#So just know their deal is passed even being strained

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Movie William judges Vanessa's friends..

[enhalouv]

hyung line - when you want his attention while he's on the phone

a/n: another lil easing in w some pov !! hope u enjoy hehe

pairing: enha hyung line x fem!reader

warning: SMUT!, corporate!enha hyung line, derogative language (c!nt), oral, unprotected sex, voyeur, public-ish sex, a mention of a foot, cursing, lil dub-con

w.c: 1,541

Heeseung

“Well, I’ll be in the office quite late, so there shouldn’t be a problem with finishing it.”

Heeseung’s playing with the papers on his desk, a contract awaiting his signature. He knows it’s important, but it’s 3 hours past work hours and he’s finding it difficult to concentrate on the vital information dump. 

Nonetheless, he tries his best. Soon enough, he finds himself absorbed in hearing what his colleague says regarding a business deal they’re both working on. 

He’s so distracted, he almost misses you walking in. 

Almost. 

It’s hard to miss you when you’re in the lingerie set he brought you back from his business meeting in London. You look beautiful. Heeseung leans back on his chair, hand gripping the armrest as he shifts his legs forward to relieve the pressure of his growing erection. 

The set was something he noticed in the shop window of a high-end sex store. Heeseung imagined your beautiful body gripped tight by the material of the lingerie. He hadn’t even hesitated to buy it, disregarding the quadruple-digit price tag entirely. The lingerie was barely concealing anything. Mesh and lace exactly hugging your skin the way Heeseung knew it would. God, he’s drooling. 

“Well, the client needs to confirm the fee estimate before we can get started. But he’s barely responding…”

The voice of his colleague flows in one ear and out the other, his attention solely on the way you stroll into his room. His breath hitches when you drop onto your knees in front of him. 

“Pay attention to your call, Hee. It must be important.” You’re being cheeky. Lips pulled into an innocent smile like you’re not working to unbuckle his belt. 

Heeseung’s straining through his slacks, his grip on the armrest of his chair tightening as you palm his cock. 

“Heeseung?”

His attention gets drawn back by the call of his name. “Yes?”

“Were you listening?”

“Sorry,” Heeseung chuckles, a hand going to grip the back of your head as you mouth at his cock through his underwear. “Just got a bit distracted there, what did you say?”

“I was saying…”

The call drifts out of his mind, his phone dangling precariously in his fingers. His business partner continues to update him on something- Heeseung doesn’t care. All he cares about is the warmth your wet mouth provides as you suck his cock down your throat. 

Jongseong

You’d been acting up. Whined and tugged at Jay to give you attention while he answered an important work call. 

You were being a brat. 

Jay wasn’t so nice when you acted out. So, now you’re on all fours, being pounded by your boyfriend from behind. A hand firmly covering your mouth to prevent any noise from coming out, less the person on the other end hearing how Jay makes your head spin. 

He’s relentless with his thrusts, a hand pushes your back into a deeper curve, and the other holds a phone to his ear. He’s responding with a steady voice, one that doesn’t give away the way he’s got you unravelling on his cock. 

“Actually,” Jay cuts the other person off, slowing down his thrusts and pushing in deeper. “Can you relay that to my assistant, she’ll be much better at ensuring this job gets completed.” 

You’re barely paying attention, the new pace making you drool from how deep your boyfriend is going. 

“She’s here right now, let me pass you to her.”

Without hesitation, Jay leans forward pushing deeper into you and puts his phone against your ear. You begin to panic as Jay shows no signs of stopping. What the actual fuck is he thinking?

“Hello?”

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!

“Go on, love,” Jay’s voice is low as he speaks to you, careful to not let it get caught by the phone’s microphone. “Answer him.”

You grip the phone hard against your ear, trying to breathe deeply to steady your voice before responding, “Yes, h-hello, I’m Jay’s assistant. Please c-continue.”

The voice on the other end filters in and Jay’s being kinder and slowing down his thrusts, hips resting against your ass as he pushes shallowly into you. You’re thankful that he wasn’t being heartless, and you try your hardest to listen to what’s being said. 

But before long, your hand slaps against your mouth as Jay pushes your back as deep as it curves and grips your hips and thrusts in so deep, you see stars. Jay begins a brutal pace, uncaring of how hard you’re trying to be quiet. 

You’re absolutely fucked. 

Jaeyun

He should be listening to his colleague on the other end of the call. This was an important business deal that would cost his company thousands if he fucks it up. 

But you’re right in front of him with two fingers deep in your cunt, and his attention was otherwise occupied. There’s no way his eyes, let alone mind, could drift from the way you play with your pretty pussy.

You’re spread out on his desk, one leg up and the other hanging between his own. The heel of your foot presses against his hard-on, the pressure not being enough for his cock. His hips subconsciously grind up into it, his slacks straining against his thighs at the motion.

“Will you be in tomorrow? I want us to delegate some tasks to the team.”

Jake hums absentmindedly, lips tucked between his teeth as you slip your fingers out and lead them up to your mouth. He tries his best not to groan into the receiver as you lick your fingers clean, spit dribbling out your mouth in an obscene mess. 

Fuck this. 

He puts his phone on speaker and places it on the other end of his desk. With his now free hands, he grabs your hips and pulls you closer to the edge of his table and immediately shoves his face in between your thighs, desperate to taste your sweet cunt. 

Your thighs wrap around his head, hands gripping his hair tightly as his tongue flicks against your clit and slides against you. His fingers creep up your leg making you shiver. You're straining hard to be quiet, biting onto the palm you've clasped over your mouth.

Jake's fingers circle your hole, huffing out a laugh when your whole body jerks at his teasing, and slides two in. He works two digits into your cunt, cum squelching as he pushes in deep. His mouth is back on your clit, sucking the sensitive nub into his mouth, loving the way you tense in his hold.

“Jake, you there? What was that sound?”

Parting from your clit, Jake still fucks his fingers into you. Uncaring of the way you're gripping his dress shirt, eyes squeezed tight as you're nearing closer and closer to orgasm. There's no way he's going to stop now.

“Yeah,” Jake sighed, his voice strained. “I'm listening. Just getting ready to head to the gym. Uh- stretching and stuff.”

“oh, okay… anyways-"

Jake doesn't hesitate to get his mouth onto your cunt just as you shake in his hold, cumming straight on his tongue. So worth it.

Sunghoon

Sunghoon’s barely paying attention to his boss in the other line as it is, but the moment you walk in with the cute loungewear set he bought you, his attention entirely zeros in on you. 

The shorts are tiny and ride up your thighs as you walk towards him. There’s a cheeky smile on your face, and Sunghoon should know by now that’s never a good sign. But really, he can’t find his attention deterring from how glorious your legs look. 

With no words being exchanged, you perch yourself on his lap. Sunghoon’s free arm immediately wraps around your waist, and he pulls you in close. He stretches his arm out with the phone so the microphone doesn’t pick up the chaste kiss he leaves on your lips.

“Hi there, darling.”

Sunghoon is infatuated with you, eyes never straying away from your face. He can’t find himself caring about the possible reprimanding he’ll get tomorrow for not listening to his boss’ instructions. His girl is in his lap, looking unbelievably gorgeous and grinding down into his half-hard cock. 

Wait. 

His mind short-circuits as you continue to roll your hips, a devious smile on your face as you watch Sunghoon’s reactions. 

You pull his pants down until they’re halfway down his thighs, gripping his cock to stroke him a few times. Sunghoon’s hips jump at the contact, thighs tensing at the feeling. 

You eventually lift yourself up with Sunghoon’s help, pulling your shorts to the side to show your dripping cunt. No panties. Good God. 

Your hips circle the tip of his cock, teasing. He hisses when you slide down on his cock, you’re tight and so, so warm it has his head tossing back in pleasure. 

“Sorry? What was that, Sunghoon?”

His boss’ voice filters through and Sunghoon has to remind himself he’s actually on a phone call. But the way you’re rolling your hips in his lap is making it a difficult task to remember. 

“Ah, sorry, I just got a paper cut,” he lets out a fake chuckle, gripping your ass harder. 

You continue to bounce on his cock and Sunghoon continues to lose his mind.

[tender-rosiey]

hiii 😭 I REALLY LOVE UR GOJO X YN SO MUCHHH 😔😔 I was also wondering like maybe what if y/n has a wound, like any where 🥲 it could be either on her back, arms, legs but she doesn't wanna tell gojo abt it and she hides it, then he will find out about it either she winces when gojo hugs her, starts wearing long sleeved clothes or her shirt lifts up while sleeping 🤧 TYSMM❤❤

strain — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: I am honored that you like my works, love! hope you enjoy this as well 🫶💕🫶 also happy birthday to the man, the myth, the legend: gojo satoru!! (it’s still his birthday in my country so hush I am not late)

you are more than a capable sorcerer. in fact, you are one of the strongest in the field.

however, like anyone else, there are some moments where things get a little out of hand, and you come back bearing a rather long slash on your left arm.

but since it’s pretty late, you decided you will bother shoko about it in the morning. that is how you’re finally in your home, with satoru nowhere to be found.

you frown lightly at the fact that he is still out there fighting curses, but a part of you feels relieved that you don’t have to explain your situation right now.

the night should pass by smoothly, and you will go to shoko tomorrow: a fool-proof plan!

so you do what you can to sanitize the wound, and cover it until you can get it treated properly. you also take the chance to indulge in your favorite snack as a good job treat.

after finishing your food and tidying up for the day, you’re finally in bed, all-cozied up and avoiding anything touching your wound as much as possible.

a deep breathe in, a deep breathe out, and you slowly drift to sleep.

not much time passes before satoru’s familiar footsteps echo throughout the house.

your husband has an abundance of energy.

but it seemed like today’s missions have drained him a bit more than normal, so he skips eating anything and heads straight to your shared bedroom.

his heart softens, and his muscles relax upon the sight of you tucked in bed. he walks to press a small kiss on your forehead, quickly changing into his pajamas and settling right by your side.

he stretches a bit and turns to spoon you as per usual, eyes closing in contentment.

but you wince, even if adeptly, and it sends alarms ringing through his head.

he jerks up, and his hand is instantly placed on your arm again, softly. there is an ever so faint change in your expression as your eyebrows furrow, and he has never pulled his hand away so fast.

he keeps debating in his head whether to wake you up or not, but he swiftly settles for the former.

he needs to know what happened. so he, regrettably, nudges your sleepy form, “y/n?”

you groan, but, nonetheless, you reply, “…what?”

while satoru often likes to base theatrics around his every move and phrase, but he also knows when to get straight to the point, “did you get hurt on today’s mission?”

you’re no longer half-asleep, and you quickly sit up, eyeing your husband. knowing there is no escape nor denial, you fidget with your fingers and nod slowly.

then you hurriedly utter, “but I was going to see shoko first thing in the morning; I promise!”

he nods slowly, holding your hands in his own. you’re left to look him in the eyes. satoru’s eyes being exposed makes him feel so vulnerable, or at least that’s how he is with you.

you can see every wrinkle, and every crease; you can see what he is thinking about in real time. he has long given up hiding anything from you, and, besides, it feels fresh to just let go.

but right now, as you look into his eyes, you see them swarming with confliction, pain, and worry.

he doesn’t scold you about not going right now because he knows that you will tell him that you either thought it wasn’t a big deal or that you didn’t want to bother shoko with it.

instead, he settles on a hushed whisper of “can I see it?”

you throw him a confused look, “why? I am getting it treated tomorrow anyway,” then you smile, “it’s not going to permanent if that’s what you’re worried about.”

he shakes his head, “it’s not that; I just—“ he takes a deep breath then looks at you pleadingly, “just let me see it.”

perhaps it’s to silence his thoughts and to show him that you’re truly okay, as okay as you can be.

you’re still alive, and that’s what matters, he thinks. nevertheless, he feels the need to see just how serious is the wound anyway.

reluctantly, you slowly take off your jacket to reveal the poorly bandaged gash on your arm.

he looks up at you, asking for permission because even if he needs to see it for his own selfish reasons, he has to put you above anything and everything else.

you nod, giving the free reign to slowly take off the bandages. you can barely hold back any pained noises, but you can’t help the wincing of your body.

satoru’s frown deepens, and with every move, your husband’s heart aches. it goes like that until the wound is finally unveiled.

you feel satoru observing the cut so intently that you look away. satoru curses everything that he can think of, and never has we wanted the ability to heal others more than right now.

he straightens his back, “that’s a deep cut, y’know.”

“I know…”

“you also realize that the wound could’ve hit your chest and inevitably heart, right?”

you huff, “listen, if you’re going to give me a lecture or keep making me feel bad about it then I will have you know—“

“you could’ve died.”

you notice the strain in his voice, so you turn to finally look eyes with him. he looks pained, so hurt, maybe even terrified at the fact that there was a chance that he could’ve lost you.

your expression immediately becomes that of sympathy, “but I didn’t, and dwelling on the fact that I might’ve died will only bother you for no reason,” you hold his hand, “I am here and alive, aren’t I?”

your husband sighs, resting his head on your right shoulder, “you’re hurting my poor little heart whenever you put yourself in danger like that.”

a giggle escapes your lips, and your hands naturally find their way in his hair, fingers gently carding through, “whatever shall we do.”

“if things went my way then you would just stay home looking all pretty like you always do,” he states, and you roll your eyes.

“well, they’re going my way tonight, so—“ the clock strikes twelve, “happy birthday, silly boy.”

his eyes widen and he pulls away to look you in the face. he blinks dumbly then looks at what’s in your hands: a cupcake with a candle.

a wide grin of unbridled joy appears on your husband’s face. his eyes shimmer in the moonlight as he laughs, “I really didn’t expect it this time!”

“you outdid yourself, pretty girl,” he hums, hand caressing your cheek.

“I still have a lot more things for you,” you beam with pride. satoru can’t contain himself anymore, and he pulls you into a loving embrace.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs beside your ear, pressing a light kiss to the side of your neck.

you pat his back, “I love you too, ‘toru,” you laugh, “but you’re pressing on my wound, and I think I am just going to cry and not because of overwhelming love.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[augustinewrites]

the dull throb resonating over your entire body is what eventually rouses you, slowly bringing you back into consciousness. your head feels like a sword’s been driven through it, leaving your mind muddled.

the first thing you see is satoru hunched over your bedside, his hand carefully clutching yours. you call his name, but your voice is hoarse and scratchy and barely above a whisper.

he hears you regardless, eyes wide and alert as he lifts his head. he looks tired, dark circles stamped under his eyes and an unusual stiffness in his movements.

“you’re…okay,” he says, strained. as if he can’t believe it. you hum in response - because it’s all you can manage at the moment - feeling your eyelids begin to droop your will. “get some more rest. i’ll call shoko.” 

the gentle brush of his lips against your forehead is the last thing you feel before drifting back to sleep.

_____

you’re not sure how much time has passed when you come to. now, the room is illuminated by honeyed lamplight and you see shoko and satoru talking quietly at the foot of your bed. 

“glad to see you’re still with us,” your best friend smiles once she notices you’re awake. she moves to your side, leaning over you to pull back the thin blanket. there’s a swathe of bandages wrapped around your shoulder and a sling immobilizing your arm. 

“how do you feel?” satoru asks, that worried look still set in his expression. 

“i‘m fine,” you manage to answer, trying to blink the room into focus.

“you need to be more careful,” shoko tells you, peeling her gloves off and tossing them into the trash. the usual air indifference in her voice is gone, replaced with concern. “take satoru with you next time. not because i think you’re incapable of doing your job, but so he can do the corny, heroic thing and take the hit for you. god knows he could stand to be humbled every once in a while…” 

“thanks, shoko,” your boyfriend scoffs, but the way his hand grips yours tightly tells you he’d be more than willing to be your corny hero. 

you hate the way they look down at your prone form as shoko goes over your treatment plan. it makes you feel small and weak, and you are neither of those things. 

“can you help me sit up?”

“you shouldn’t be moving around–” 

your body burns with protest as you awkwardly push yourself up anyway, exhaling a pained hiss as gojo swears, reaching out to help steady your trembling torso as shoko shoves pillows behind your back. 

“i’m fine,” you argue, trying to ignore the throbbing behind your temples. you don’t remember exactly how you’d ended up in the school’s infirmary, just remember the way pain had exploded across your left side when you’d been hit.  

“you almost weren’t,” he says quietly. a deeply haunted look clouds his face as he recalls what must have happened after you’d been brought in, and you feel guilty for not being able to remember it. 

so you let him squeeze into bed next to you, let him carefully pull you into his chest and hold you until you feel the tension in his body dissipate. you know he needs this a little more than you do, know that the knowledge of you being okay isn’t enough. it won’t stop the fear and anxiety of losing you from gnawing on the edge of his sanity.

“i wanna give the flowers–”

“so you can take all the credit? i’m the one who bought them!”

your pained grimace easily turns to a smile when the door opens to reveal megumi and tsumiki, who are both gripping a bouquet of flowers. nanami follows them in, wearing the tired look of a man that’s never spent more than three hours dealing with moody preteens raised by gojo – until today.

_____

your family spoils you over the next few days. the three of them falling asleep on the little couch in your room, tucked under gojo’s arms every night until you’re cleared to go home. even then, they don’t leave your side. tsumiki snuggles next to you to watch movies and bakes you little treats. megumi reads to you from the book you’d been going through together and listens to your favourite records with you after school. 

satoru posts himself by your side. you like having him around. like the gentle way he handles you when working through the stretches shoko prescribes. like watching the way his hands move he diligently slices wedges of fresh fruit. 

you like being the focus of his single-minded attention, but you know how restless he can get when he doesn’t go off to work. rightfully so, because the jujutsu world would probably fall apart without him.

“you can go if you want,” you say one day, when he gets off a phone call with yaga. “i’ll be okay for a few hours.” 

he doesn’t get up, instead beginning to peel a plump orange (you’d never noticed how nice his hands were until now). “no, nanami’s still covering for me.” 

“satoru,” you sigh, taking an orange slice from him. “there’s a lot going on, you have bigger fish to fry.”

“i’m not going anywhere,” he tells you firmly, looking like he’d physically fight the idea of leaving your side. “you’re my fish.”

[im-ovulating]

I think Tate should pin reader to a wall and fuck her. W me deserve a treat this Halloween season, and slutty Tate is such a nice thing.

(A/n: I think that's the best idea you've had yet. Slutty Tate is really all I need in this life🫠)

(Forgive the writing rust, it's been a minute)

(Not proofread)

(Pretend it's still October for me, yeah?)

Word Count: 1,611

Summary- Run, baby, run.

Warnings: Chasing, Unprotected Sex

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Tate Langdon x Fem! Reader: Run

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

"Oh, my fucking god, Tate!" You screech as you use the banister to make a sharp turn. Tate thunders down the stairs after you in that stupid mask he found.

"C'mon~" He rasps out. "Don't you wanna play?~"

You round the kitchen island, circling it to keep distance between you. His vocal fry makes your cheeks burn; the innuendo in his phrasing doing nothing to help the heat.

"Don't -" You cut yourself off with a scream as Tate all but lunges around the island at you.

And you're running again, through the living room, past the home office, until you spot the basement door in your peripheral. You shoot off towards it, ripping the door open and sprinting down the stairs. You use the support pillars to your advantage, losing him in the maze that you call a basement.

You can hear his heavy steps as he taunts you. Boot clad feet clicking and echoing through the dark room.

"Y/n~" He singsongs. "Come out, come out wherever you are~"

His voice is muffled by the mask.

You slip around the last outcropped wall and plaster your back to the brick.

A shiver runs up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck stands on end as it suddenly goes deadly silent. The only sound in the damp room is your ragged breathing that gets poorly muffled by your hands.

Why did you think the basement was a good idea? You've done nothing but effectively trap yourself.

You're a sitting duck down here. Your best chance at escaping him is if you can manage to get back up the stairs and make a break for the front door. In theory, it's easy. The door is just a few paces to the right of the basement. But this is a ghost you're dealing with - nothing is that simple with him.

Nonetheless, once you steady your breathing, you start inching your way back to the steps.

Thank the gods you decided to put off putting your shoes on; your socks make your steps silent as you scoot around a corner. Your eyes adjusting to the pitch black does nothing to quell your paranoia; if anything, it merely heightens it. The knowledge that you could turn your head at any point at be face to face with your pursuer has your heart frantically beating against your ribs as if aching to smash through the bone. The quiet roars in your ears as you strain to hear even the slightest shuffle in the dark.

Wait-

No. That was your pulse in your ears...

'Where is he..?'

Every step you take feels like it's being watched like a hawk, and, at this point, you don't know if you're just psyching yourself out or not. Something moves in the corner of your eye, but when you whip around, you're met with nothing.

'This isn't funny anymore...' your mind unhelpfully supplies.

Taking a shuddering breath, you make up your mind and call out into the pitch.

"Tate? Please, this isn't fun anymo-"

A hand covers your mouth, an arm snaking across your stomach to drag you back. You thrash, desperately trying to rip the hand off. Your protests remain muffled as your captor pins you face-first to the nearest wall.

"Gotcha~" Tate quips, his breath fanning your neck. "Are you scared, baby?"

So, he ditched the mask... 'Finally,' you can't help but think.

You shake your head despite the answer being an obvious 'yes'. You can feel his cock pressing into your ass, getting harder with each passing second.

"No?" His hand slips from your mouth to your jaw, tilting your head back, "Liar."

With that, Tate slams his mouth to yours, hungry and not afraid to satiate himself.

You know it's wrong. That being hunted down and caught shouldn't make you feel this way, but it does. It does. It makes your tummy get all hot and fuzzy - makes your head cloudy and hazy.

And Tate knows it.

He knows this dirty little secret of yours and loves to entice it. Because, just as much as you love the chase, he loves the hunt.

The arm around you slides down until his hand can slip into your pants.

"Not only are you a liar -" he murmurs into the kiss, "- but you love that you're scared. I bet you're soaking through your panties, too, aren't ya?"

His fingers finally reach your folds, easily stroking you with all the slick that's shamefully accumulated. "Knew it~"

Tate breaks the kiss and pulls his hand out. Lifting his hand to your lips, he barely has to mutter out an 'open' before you're accepting the digits into your mouth.

You can feel his dark eyes boring into you as you suck your own juices from his fingers.

"Good girl..." His thumbs along your jaw with his free hand before pulling his digits from your mouth.

Tate turns you around and pins you to the wall once more before leaning down to kiss you again. It feels like he's devouring you; eager to eat you until there's nothing left for him to take. His tongue slips past your lips, tasting all you have to offer and still some. It's when he starts to work at your jeans that you pull away.

"Down here?" You ask, as you attempt to catch your breath. Tate makes that easier said than done by shifting to focus on your neck.

You can feel the shit-eating smirk that spreads against your neck as he mumbles out a "Why not? You had no problem soaking your panties down here."

He belts out a laugh at your offended gasp and as much as you want to snark back, you can't deny that he's right. So, instead, you huff out an "Asshole" as you relax against the wall. Wasting no time, Tate shoves your jeans down until you're able to kick them off; after unbuckling his own, he hikes your leg up and lines his cockhead with your entrance with an almost evil grin.

"Tate, don't you fucking dar-" You're cut off with a yelp as he shoves himself to the hilt with one motion.

"You love it," he grunts. And you do.

He pulls out to the tip before thrusting back in. Again and again, he builds up to a frenzied rhythm as the wet sounds of your arousal echo through the basement and all you can think is how glad you are that you're the only one home.

You can feel the staccato of your heartbeat as it mirrors his trusts.

You can barely breathe with how hard he's slamming into you, but he still has you all but clawing at his back, so it's not like you can complain. He isn't much better with how he's basically growling into your neck, sucking and biting a pattern into your skin as he fucks into you.

"How are you still so fucking tight?" He groans out, grinding his cock into you before pulling out. Tate flips you around once more before pushing back in.

Your cheek scrapes against the wall with a few trusts before you're able to get your palms against it. Using your new leverage, you start to press back, meeting him trust for thrust as he draws out grunts and groans from both of you.

The hot, wet slide of him in your cunt has your brain going empty of anything but Tate and the growing need to cum. You can feel the steady build up, the tension mounting in your muscles as he guides you closer and closer to the edge.

You're not even sure what sounds your making; all you can hear is the heavy breathing and growled curses that Tate is releasing. His hands snuck up to play with your tits at some point and with each tug and pinch, your back arches more and more as electricity starts to crackle in your veins.

"God, I'm close," you pant out. "Please, Tate..."

You feel the tip of his nose trail up your neck as he inhales your scent. "You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" He mumbles once his lips meet the skin just below your ear.

He slips one of his hands back down to your clit, "Then cum."

With one last tug to the sensitive nerve, your vision blurs as you cry out his name. The static in your limbs shoots out, spreading through your fingers and toes and tosses your head back against his shoulder. You don't even register your legs going out until Tate's arm tightens around your waist, keeping you up as he chases his own release.

"Hold on, baby," He rasps, "Just hold on for me a little longer-"

The continued stimulation keeps your eyes shut as your forced to take what he gives. Any rhythm he had is gone as he pounds into your cunt like an animal; you could cry out in relief once you feel his hips start to stutter. And you do. As soon as you can feel the thick, hot ropes of his cum pump into you, the tears fall; the overstimulation makes your legs quiver, but ecstasy still hums in your veins.

You don't register the muttered praises Tate presses into your shoulder until your breathing evens out and your heart stops hammering in your ears. "You with me, Pretty?"

Nodding, you test your legs, finally taking the strain off of Tate, though his arm stays firmly locked around your waist. Blinking the remaining blurriness from your eyes, you turn your head to face him before getting pulled into a kiss.

"There she is," he whispers against your lips.

(3 years and I still don't know how to end smut🤪)

[gor3-hound]

don't hold your breath(nobody's home)

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dead dove, uncle-niece incest, non-con, loss of virginity, very minor blood description, forced alcohol consumption, alcoholism from leon ofc, reader gets slapped, age gap, guilt, one threat, fingering, p in v, non-consensual creampie, crying, idk leon feels entitled cause his brother sucks, reader hinted at having nice tits idk

a/n: sorry if this sucks ass... my motivation for writing has been non-existent w real life stuff n all the drama so... i feel like this is awful but here we are. title from razzmatazz by idkhbtfm... not proofread i'm sorry </3

word count: 1.9k words

Leon knew he had a drinking problem. He just hadn't realised it had gotten this bad. He couldn't even get his dick up with viagra anymore. He frowns as he looks down at the brunette he was planning to fuck, tempted to try and just push it in soft.

He ends up just kicking her out to drown his sorrows. He wasn't dealing with this shit tonight, not when he was seeing his asshole brother tomorrow. Pretty wife, perfect kids. His job pays better than Leon's ever will, and he didn't need to undergo years of trauma. Lucky bastard.

Leon does what he does best that night and drinks enough whiskey so he can pass out without worrying about the nightmares coming to ruin his night. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

He hasn't seen you in a good six years. You were still playing with dolls and shit when he last visited. Makes him feel stupid when he brings you a plushie as a gift. Clearly he forgot how time worked, cause he still expected you to be thirteen. You still hug him and say thank you, sweet as ever. When his brother said he'd be watching the house and looking after you, he didn't expect to see you so... grown. Too old to need a babysitter, really. Even if your parents are gonna be gone for a week.

He gulps as his hands settle on your hips, trying to prevent you from pressing against his hardening cock. Down boy. At least his dick still works. It just took his college-aged niece to get it up. Doesn't help that you've got your tits smooshed against his chest.

Therapy was gonna be a doozy this week.

He could only pray that this doesn't turn into anything. The last thing he needed was his dick being the thing that got him thrown into prison for doing something stupid to you, no matter how cute that body of yours is. That's a new one, he thinks, mentally slapping himself for even thinking about touching you like that. He'd never do it, of course. That's sick, and he knows it. He's just so frustrated. And you're hot. A total babe. Somehow, you managed to get a better rack than your mom. Must be the Kennedy genes coming in. Leon's got tits for days.

He knew he had a drinking problem, but he never thought he'd lose himself this much. He never thought about hurting anyone. He's not a bad guy. It's just that every time he tried to be with someone, he just couldn't get his body to react the way he wanted. That's what the oxytocin was for, he thought, already thinking about taking a swig of whiskey from the flask in his pocket. If only that fucking stuff worked on him. The part of his brain that controlled his cock seemed to be permanently on vacation, and his wires clearly got crossed somewhere if he wants to fuck his own blood.

Whatever. He could get through a week alone with his niece without any trouble. He's faced worse monsters than the ones making themselves present in his mind right now. He'd keep his distance, and all would be okay.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That didn't work. Of course it didn't. You were just as clingy with him as you were when you were a kid, following him around like a lost puppy. He's convinced he's clutching the glass of whiskey in his hand hard enough to shatter it as you curl up against his side. His cock is throbbing, and he seriously hopes you don't notice how the fabric of his jeans is getting a little strained.

You really need to stop with those tits. He's gonna lose it if they brush his arm one more time. He's not sure what it is about you, particularly, that has him acting like a teenage virgin again, but his self-control is wavering by the second. He hasn't paid a single second of attention to the movie he was meant to be watching to keep his mind off of you.

Fuck this.

He takes a swig of whiskey that drains half the liquid in his cup in one gulp. Liquid courage and all that. Maybe he'd drunk a little too much while he was here, ‘cause his brain clearly isn't working right. Not when he's pinning you to the couch, kissing your neck despite your protests.

“Leon… Leon, what're you doing?” You force out, small hands pressing at his chest as if you'd be able to knock him off. Cute. He'd fought creatures six times your size. You didn't stand a chance. 

He starts undressing you, and you start writhing and crying, hitting his chest with clenched fists. He swallows the lump that builds in his throat, wiping the tears that fall down your cheeks.

“Shh… it's okay, I'm… I'm gonna take care ‘f you.” He murmurs, his voice slightly slurred from how much he'd drunk. You cry even harder when he presses a finger into you, making the guilt rise up faster in him. That's not fair. He's being nice. God didn't bless him with much, but at least he gave him a fat cock. You should feel lucky he's prepping you. Not making him feel bad.

“Hey.” He warns, shoving another finger in just to shut you up. You finch when he scissors you open. Poor thing. “That's enough. One more complaint for you, and I'll just force myself in.”

Shit. Now he really does feel like a monster. He's not drunk enough to handle the pure terror on your face at his words. He fumbles on the coffee table with his free hand as he lazily pumps into you with the other. Glass? No. Bottle.

Maybe you need some, too. Get you nice and pliant so you'll take his dick without bitching. Not a bad idea. He twists the cap off with his teeth, gulping some of the liquid down himself. He takes another mouthful before leaning down to kiss you, spitting the liquid into the back of your throat. He keeps your mouth on yours even as you try to jerk away, making sure you swallow it.

You really are adorable as you start coughing and spluttering. Such a sweet thing, you probably hadn't even drunk before. He lifts the bottle to your mouth, pouring some more into your mouth before setting it down, covering your mouth. “Swallow.”

He starts thumbing at your clit as he fingers you, relishing in the ways your whimpers turn into soft moans, your hips bucking against his hand. He manages to coax an orgasm out of you with a few more touches, a big smile spreading across his face.

“There we go, sweetie. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?” He coos, unbuttoning his jeans. The sound of the zipper has your eyes widening in horror, and he tuts softly. “What're you giving me that look for? It's your turn to take care of me now.”

There goes the begging and pleading again. It has his brows pinching together as a frown tugs at his lips. You really are his brother's kid. So goddamn ungrateful. He just took care of you, and now you just want him to… what? Fist his dick in the guest room?

He smacks you so hard your head snaps to the side, your breaths coming out in short gasps. You look better like that, tears stinging your eyes but your body completely limp. He can see the fight draining out of your eyes.

“I was gonna be nice.” He mumbles, brows furrowing as he lines his tip up with your entrance, forcing himself inside in one thrust. He groans loudly, shuddering as your tight heat envelops him. His eyes look down, locked onto your cunt as he fucks into you with long strokes. He freezes when he notices blood. He's not sure if he's happy or disgusted that he's your first. No wonder you put up such a fight.

You keep weakly begging him to stop, but your pussy is gushing all over him. It's not his fault he can't stop – you're giving him the hottest look he's ever seen, and your puffy cunt is so fucking greedy for his cock, sucking him back in everytime he starts to pull out.

“S-sorry… I'm so sorry…” He grunts, picking up the pace of his thrusts, groaning at the sound of your punched out moans as he drives into you with as much force as he can muster. You almost sound like you're enjoying it, but you're still fucking crying and he can't take it. His heart hurts.

“Baby, please…” He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see the betrayal on your face. His arms tremble as he holds himself up, sloppily fucking into you. “I'm sorry… just stop cryin’, please…”

Every time his hips smack the fat of your ass, you're moaning out a ‘please’. With his eyes shut, he can pretend you're begging for more. That you like this. That is, until you start saying ‘stop’. He winces, but the movement of his hips doesn't falter.

“Fuck, baby… please stop begging.” He pleads, throwing his head back as his tip kisses your cervix. He whimpers as it makes you tighten around him, angling his thrusts to hit that spot each time he fully sheaths himself inside of you.

“I-I can't stop…you feel so… fuck. So fucking good. M'so close.” He groans. He can't even find the strength to pull out anymore. He buries himself balls deep in your cunt, grinding himself into your tight heat.

“L-Leon… please.” You say weakly, chest heaving with heavy breaths as panic sets in, your hands pushing at his chest. “Y-you gotta pull out, you can't… you can't.”

“What?” He breathes out, cracking his eyes open to look at you again. He looks genuinely confused. Why would he ever pull out when you felt so good? He can't bring himself to. “Baby, no. I'm cumming inside of you. Can't pull out now.”

That seems to bring your fight back. You start struggling under him again, punching him with all your strength. Luckily, that's not a lot. Especially when you're sluggish from your first time drinking and getting fucked. It's Leon's lucky day.

“Shit, baby. Don't look at me like that.” Or do. He's gonna cum if you keep staring up at him with that wide-eyed expression. “No need to be so scared, princess. I just… shit. Can't help myself.”

Doesn't take longer than a minute after that for him to finish. He buries his face in your neck, whining as he cums. His cock kicks inside of you, the warmth of his release filling every inch of you. You start sobbing all over again, slumping weakly against the couch.

He lies on top of you, his weight pressing you down into the couch. He pets your hair like you're a doll, his fingers carding through your hair.

“I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me. I'll be so good. Do whatever you want. Didn't mean it.” He murmurs, kissing your cheek over and over as if he's trying to get you to relax. He keeps it up until you fall asleep, wrapping you up in his arms.

When you wake up in the morning, you're fully dressed in your bed. You almost think it's a dream until you feel the dull throbbing between your legs.

[florawrites-blog]

Audacity - enhypen

-Enhypen reaction to you babying their members

Lee heeseung - 이희승

In the warmth of the cozy living room, the aroma of freshly made soup filled the air as you sat beside Jay, who looked pale and exhausted. He’d been the one to care for everyone else, but now, with a fever making him weak, it was your turn to return the favor.

You gently stirred the soup, bringing the spoon closer to his lips. “Come on, Jay, just one more spoon. It’ll help you feel better,” you encouraged, your voice soft and reassuring.

Jay, eyes barely open, managed a small, grateful smile. “I can do it myself,” he mumbled, but his body betrayed him as he struggled to lift his arm. You shook your head, insisting he let you help.

Just as you were about to offer another spoonful, a loud throat clearing interrupted the moment. Startled, you turned to see Heeseung standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable. His eyes flicked from you to Jay, then back to you. The silence that followed was heavy, almost tangible.

Heeseung didn’t say a word. He simply walked past you, his gaze lingering a little too long before he disappeared down the hallway. You frowned, confusion settling in as you finished feeding Jay.

Later that evening, you found Heeseung in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, staring at his phone. You approached him cautiously, placing a hand on his arm. “Heeseung, is everything okay?”

He looked up briefly, his expression still guarded, before returning his attention to his phone without a word. The cold shoulder he was giving you sent a shiver down your spine.

“Are you upset because of earlier?” you asked, trying to get him to open up.

Heeseung remained silent, his face giving nothing away. The tension in the air was palpable, and it hurt to see him like this, especially when you didn’t fully understand why.

You sighed, stepping closer to him. “Heeseung, talk to me. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s nothing,” he finally muttered, cutting you off. But his tone said otherwise. The distance between you, despite being only a few feet, felt like a chasm.

The rest of the evening passed in a strained silence, and even when you tried to engage him in conversation, he kept his responses short, never looking directly at you. The warmth and affection that usually filled the air between you two were replaced by an uncomfortable coldness.

As you lay in bed that night, Heeseung’s back turned towards you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong. You reached out, gently placing your hand on his shoulder. “Heeseung, please… I’m sorry if I upset you.”

He stiffened under your touch, but after a long pause, he sighed deeply, finally turning to face you. “It’s just… seeing you with Jay like that, taking care of him… I know he’s sick, but it made me feel… jealous, I guess,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart ached at his words. “Heeseung, you know you’re the one I love, right? I was just helping Jay because he needed it.”

“I know,” he said, his voice softer now, the anger in his eyes replaced by vulnerability. “But I couldn’t help feeling like… maybe you care for him more.”

You shook your head, reaching out to cup his cheek. “That’s not true. I care about all of you, but what I have with you is different, special. You’re my boyfriend, Heeseung, and I love you.”

Heeseung’s expression softened, and he finally pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “I’m sorry for giving you the silent treatment. I just didn’t know how to deal with what I was feeling.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered, relieved that the tension between you was melting away. “Just don’t shut me out again, okay? We can talk through anything.”

He nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I promise. And I’ll try not to get jealous so easily next time.”

You smiled, snuggling closer to him, feeling the warmth return to your relationship. The silence that had once felt so cold was now comforting, filled with understanding and love.

Park jongseong - 박종성

The morning sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow in the room as you stood in front of Jungwon, carefully fixing his tie. He was dressed in a sharp suit, ready for an important event, but there was a hint of nervousness in his eyes. You smiled, trying to ease his anxiety.

"Look at you, you look adorable," you said, your voice filled with affection as you adjusted the knot on his tie.

Jungwon blushed slightly, offering a shy smile. "Thanks, I just want everything to go smoothly today."

"You’ll be amazing, don’t worry," you reassured him, smoothing down the fabric of his suit jacket. "Now, go out there and show them what you’ve got."

Just as you finished, you turned around and froze. There, leaning casually against the door frame, was Jay, his eyes locked onto you. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze—maybe curiosity, maybe something more.

Jungwon, unaware of the tension, flashed a quick smile at Jay before heading out to the event. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with your boyfriend.

You approached Jay with a smile, arms open, ready to hug him, but he remained still, his eyes still locked onto yours. As you got closer, he tilted his head slightly and spoke, “Wow, princess, don’t you think you’re babying him a bit too much lately?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, hitting his chest playfully. “Oh, come on, Jay. You baby him more than I do! And he’s literally the cutest, so you can’t blame me.”

Jay’s serious expression softened as he let out a small laugh, his arms finally wrapping around you, pulling you close. “Okay, okay, you’re right. He is the cutest. But…” he leaned down, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper, “remember, he’s my son, not yours.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Fine, I’ll try not to ‘baby’ him too much. But you’re not off the hook either, Mr. Overprotective.”

Jay grinned, tightening his hold on you. “Deal. Just don’t forget who your number one is.”

“I could never forget,” you murmured, leaning up to kiss him, the playful banter giving way to a tender moment. Jay’s initial jealousy was all but forgotten, replaced by the warmth of your shared love.

Sim jaeyun = 심재윤

You and Ni-ki were sitting on the floor of the living room, intense concentration written on both your faces as you played a competitive game. Ni-ki had been winning most of the rounds, as usual, but this time, against all odds, you managed to pull off a victory. The rare moment of defeat caught Ni-ki off guard, and he stared at the screen in disbelief.

You couldn’t resist ruffling his hair playfully, a grin spreading across your face. “Can’t win them all, Ni-ki,” you teased, enjoying the rare moment of triumph.

He pouted slightly but then shrugged it off with a smile, accepting his loss with grace. As you got up to grab some water, you turned around and spotted Jake standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and the biggest pout you’d ever seen on his face. If someone else saw him, they’d probably think you’d just taken away his favorite toy.

You walked over to him, trying to hold back a laugh at how dramatically upset he looked. “Jake, what’s wrong?” you asked softly, reaching out to touch his arm.

But instead of answering, Jake lowered his head in an exaggerated manner and began walking away, his steps slow and heavy as if he was carrying the weight of the world. That’s when it hit you—he was jealous. The realization made you burst out laughing, and you quickly followed him, your arms wide open, ready to pull him into a hug.

Jake, however, quickened his pace, determined to stay just out of reach. “Come on, you big baby, come here and let me take a look at you,” you called after him, your voice filled with amusement.

“No, go away from me,” Jake replied dramatically, glancing back at you with a hurt expression. “Go to Ni-ki and let me die because apparently, you hate me.”

You rolled your eyes, still laughing at his antics. “Oh, please, be for real, Jake.”

“Oh wow, so now it’s just Jake, okay,” he said, his tone even sadder, but you could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Not wanting to drag it out any longer, you finally caught up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. “You know I love you, right?” you whispered into his ear, clinging to him.

Jake let out a dramatic sigh but finally relented, turning in your arms to face you. “I guess I can forgive you… this time,” he mumbled, though his pout remained.

You grinned, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, my big, jealous baby.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that, pulling you closer. But for the rest of the day, you noticed him sending death glares in Ni-ki’s direction whenever he thought you weren’t looking, making you shake your head and smile. Jealous Jake was something else, but you loved him for it.

Park sunghoon - 박성훈

You stepped into the dorm, the familiar sounds of the boys unwinding after practice filling the space. Your boyfriend, Sunghoon, had just come back with the rest of the group, and you were excited to see him. But before you even thought about greeting him, your concern was elsewhere.

Spotting Jake sitting on the couch with his leg propped up, you hurried over, worry etched across your face. “Oh my God, look at you! You look so bad. How’s your ankle now?” you asked in a baby voice, your eyes filled with concern as you kneeled beside him.

Jake gave you a sheepish smile, appreciating the attention. “It’s not too bad, really. Just a little sore.”

Before you could ask anything more, you felt a sudden tug on your hoodie. You barely had time to react before Sunghoon, his face a mix of annoyance and jealousy, pulled you away from Jake with a firm grip. His glare could have frozen over a volcano, and he didn’t say a word as he guided you to his room, closing the door behind you.

Once inside, he let go of your hoodie and crossed his arms, looking at you with narrowed eyes. “Seriously? The first thing you do when you get here is run to Jake? What about me?” he scolded, his voice a mix of frustration and hurt.

You bit your lip, trying to keep a straight face as he continued. “I’m your boyfriend, and I’ve barely seen you all day. And you—”

But as he kept talking, you realized you had other plans. He was adorable when he was upset, but he was also talking way too much. Without warning, you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, and pulled him down into a kiss.

Sunghoon’s words immediately died on his lips as he melted into the kiss, all his frustration evaporating in an instant. You felt him relax, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer.

When you finally pulled away, a small, satisfied smile played on your lips. “I’m here now, okay? And I’m all yours,” you whispered.

Sunghoon sighed, his expression softening as he leaned his forehead against yours. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he muttered, but there was no real anger in his voice anymore.

You chuckled, giving him another quick peck on the lips. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

He couldn’t argue with that, pulling you into his arms for a long, warm embrace. The earlier jealousy was forgotten, replaced by the comfort of having you there with him.

Kim sunoo - 김순우

You were sitting on the couch with Sunghoon, casually chatting about your day when he suddenly sighed and looked down at his stomach. “I think I’ve gained some weight recently,” he mumbled. “Maybe I should start dieting.”

The moment the words left his mouth, you instantly shifted into full-on mother mode. “Absolutely not!” you exclaimed, moving closer to him. “You don’t need to diet, Sunghoon. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

Ignoring his awkward chuckle, you gently grabbed his face, cupping his cheeks in your hands as you lectured him. “You need to eat well and take care of yourself. No more talk about dieting, okay? Promise me.”

Just as Sunghoon was about to respond, a loud, dramatic gasp echoed through the room. You turned to see Sunoo standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open as if he’d just witnessed the most shocking betrayal. He looked at you with the ugliest side-eye he could muster, his expression full of exaggerated disbelief.

“Wow, Y/N, just wow,” Sunoo said, his voice dripping with melodrama as he turned away, clutching his chest like someone had stolen his most prized possession.

You blinked in surprise, realizing what this was about. “Oh, come on, Sunoo, don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, trying not to laugh.

But before you could explain further, Sunghoon, clearly not wanting to be caught in the middle of this, awkwardly excused himself and disappeared in a flash, leaving you to deal with Sunoo.

You got up and followed Sunoo, who had dramatically flopped onto the nearest chair, his back turned to you in mock offense. “Sunoo, you know I love you too, right?” you said, trying to coax him out of his sulk.

He glanced back at you, still pouting. “But you were babying Sunghoon. You’ve never babied me like that.”

You sighed, knowing you had to make it up to him. “Okay, fine. I’ll make it up to you. What do you want?”

Sunoo’s eyes lit up instantly, his pout disappearing as he turned to face you fully. “I want you to stay up all night and watch a K-drama with me. Of my choice.”

You groaned playfully, but there was no way you could say no to him. “Deal,” you agreed, rolling your eyes but smiling at the same time.

Sunoo beamed, his previous sulk completely forgotten. “Good! And you’d better not fall asleep halfway through,” he warned, wagging a finger at you.

You laughed, pulling him into a hug. “I won’t, I promise. But you owe me one next time.”

Sunoo grinned, snuggling into your embrace. “We’ll see about that.”

And so, as the night wore on, you found yourself curled up with Sunoo, binge-watching his favorite K-drama. It was a small price to pay to see him happy, and despite the tiredness creeping in, you couldn’t help but enjoy the moment.

Yang jungwon - 양중원

The day had been going well enough until Heeseung’s members decided to tease him mercilessly. They poked fun at him for being “hoe-less,” joking that he couldn’t even get a girl if he tried. It was all in good fun, but you could see the way Heeseung’s shoulders slumped just a little, the smile on his face not quite reaching his eyes.

You couldn’t stand seeing him like that. Without a second thought, you moved to sit beside him, wrapping your arms around him in a comforting hug. “Don’t listen to them,” you said softly, your voice full of affection. “You’re amazing, and any girl would be lucky to have you.”

Heeseung blushed, You continued to baby him, gently stroking his hair and showering him with compliments, doing everything you could to make him feel better because as much as you know his members meant it as a joke heeseung confident was getting bruised.

But as you did, you felt a pair of eyes boring into you. Glancing up, you saw Jungwon across the room, his gaze fixed on you with a look that could almost burn a hole through you. His expression was unreadable, but you could sense the tension in the air. For the rest of the time you spent with Heeseung, Jungwon didn’t say a word to you. He just watched, his eyes never leaving you.

Later that evening, you noticed that Jungwon was acting distant. He barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was brief and curt. The playful, affectionate Jungwon you were used to was nowhere to be found. When it was time for bed, he even skipped your usual goodnight kiss, which left you feeling hurt and confused.

Determined to fix whatever was wrong, you reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward you. “Jungwon, what’s going on? You didn’t give me my goodnight kiss,” you said, your voice laced with concern.

But Jungwon just stubbornly turned his head away, refusing to meet your eyes. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled, but his tone said otherwise.

You sighed, feeling a pang of frustration. You tried tugging at his hand again, hoping he’d relent, but he remained stiff and unyielding. Finally, you gave up, feeling more hurt than ever, and turned over in bed, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in your chest.

Sleep didn’t come easy. Even as you drifted off, you found yourself mumbling his name, a soft plea for the closeness you were missing. Unbeknownst to you, Jungwon had been watching you the whole time, his heart twisting at the sight of you so vulnerable and longing for him.

Suddenly, any lingering frustration he felt melted away, replaced by an overwhelming urge to hold you close. Unable to resist, Jungwon leaned over and began covering your face with soft, rapid kisses, unable to stop himself from expressing just how much he adored you.

The sensation of his lips on your skin stirred you from your sleep, and you blinked up at him in surprise. “Jungwon?” you mumbled, still half-asleep.

He didn’t stop, pressing kisses all over your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, until you were fully awake and giggling beneath his affection. “I’m sorry,” he whispered between kisses. “I didn’t mean to be so distant. I was just… jealous, I guess.”

You smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You know you don’t have to be jealous, right? You’re the only one I want.”

He finally stopped his assault of kisses, pulling you close and nuzzling into your neck. “I know. I’m sorry for being stubborn earlier.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured, running your fingers through his hair. “Just don’t shut me out again.”

He nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, finally giving you the goodnight kiss you’d been waiting for. “I won’t. I promise.”

With that, you both settled down, tangled up in each other’s arms, and the rest of the night passed in peaceful, contented sleep.

Ni- ki -남편

You were lounging on the couch with Sunoo, scrolling through pictures on your phone from yesterday’s fan sign. As you came across a particularly adorable photo of him, you couldn’t help but gush. “Sunoo, look at this! You were so cute yesterday,” you exclaimed, showing him the picture. “I swear, you’re my bias!”

Sunoo giggled, clearly enjoying the praise. “Really? I was just being myself.”

“Well, your ‘just being yourself’ is enough to make everyone fall for you,” you continued, your voice full of affection. “You’re seriously the cutest, Sunoo.”

As you continued to shower him with compliments, you noticed a shift in the atmosphere. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ni-ki sitting nearby, his expression growing darker by the second. He wasn’t saying anything, but you could practically feel the waves of jealousy radiating off him. His usual carefree demeanor had been replaced by a subtle sulk, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Realizing what was happening, you quickly tried to smooth things over. “But, of course, my absolute favorite is you, Ni-ki,” you said, turning your attention to him. “No one can compare to you.”

But Ni-ki was already deep into his jealous funk. He crossed his arms, avoiding your gaze, and mumbled something under his breath. You could tell he wasn’t going to be easily convinced, and it seemed like you’d have to work a bit harder to get back into his good graces.

You got up and walked over to him, kneeling in front of him so you could look up into his eyes. “Hey,” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand. “You know I love you, right? No one else could ever take your place.”

Ni-ki didn’t pull away, but he also didn’t respond. He just kept his eyes fixed on the floor, his expression unreadable. You sighed, realizing that this was going to take some serious effort.

For the rest of the day, you devoted yourself to babying Ni-ki. You followed him around, insisting on doing little things for him, like bringing him snacks, fluffing his pillows, and even giving him a back massage. Every time he tried to brush you off, you’d just smile and keep at it, determined to break through his jealousy.

At first, he resisted, remaining stubbornly distant. But as the hours passed, you could see his defenses slowly crumbling. He started responding to your efforts with small smiles, and eventually, he stopped resisting altogether.

By the time the evening rolled around, Ni-ki was finally starting to warm up to you again. He let out a long sigh as you sat beside him on the couch, leaning into you a little. “You’re really annoying, you know that?” he muttered, but there was no bite in his words.

You grinned, taking that as a sign that he was coming around. “Maybe, but you still love me,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

You leaned in, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry if I made you feel left out earlier. You’re always my number one, Ni-ki.”

He finally relented, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Okay, fine. Just… don’t forget about me next time.”

“Never,” you promised, planting a kiss on his cheek. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

He chuckled, finally letting go of the last bit of his jealousy. “I guess I can live with that.”

The rest of the evening was spent in comfortable silence, with Ni-ki’s jealousy fully melted away. He was back to his usual self, and you were more than happy to have your playful, loving boyfriend back in your arms.

[justauthoring]

the winner takes it all.

in which, leander prewett is a prick and sebastian shows him not mess with his girl.

a/n: i truly am the queen of being late to the partyyyyyyyyyyyy (ive wanted to write for sebastian since hogwarts legacy came out but just finally got around to finally writing for him :) )

warnings: leander prewett bashing because i said so :), being drugged?

pairing: sebastian sallow x f!slytherin!reader

“I don’t need to have eyes to know you’re staring, Sebastian.”

Ominis’ rather bland comment pulls Sebastian from the spiraling thoughts that had been coursing through his mind, a blink of the eye as he shifts, turning to face his long time friend with a frown. 

“I’m not staring,” Sebastian argues, voice sharper than he meant it to be. Guilt runs through him when he realizes he’s being unfairly cross with Ominis, a boy that despite all has had to deal with Sebastian’s rather cross moods as of late and in the grand scheme of things, has done so with very little complaint.

“Sorry,” Sebastian sighs after a moment of silence passes, shoulders sinking. “It’s just…”

Ominis sets his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder across the table, squeezing reassuringly. “You don’t need to explain, Sebastian. I understand,” he offers softly, voice warm with what is meant to be comfort. Sebastian, despite the hurt in his heart, does feel himself ease, even if only a little, at Ominis’ words. The boy has always been exceptionally good at understanding others and knowing what to say to help someone—something Sebastian often found he lacked in retrospect. But then again, given who Ominis was, it made complete sense for him to understand and see things other’s couldn’t (even if he lacked the actual sight to do so).

“I just worry you’ll do something rash,” Ominis adds tentatively, as if afraid of Sebastian’s reaction. 

But Sebastian isn’t offended—honestly, he’s been rather scared of his own limits as of late. Especially when he was faced with that mocking grin and gaze that seemed to scream; I beat you.

It all started two days ago when, instead of meeting Sebastian in your shared common room as you normally did, you never showed up. The act was odd but Sebastian had brushed it off as a simple lack of communication, figuring you’d headed to the Great Hall ahead of him for whatever reason since Anne had assured him you weren’t in your room. Maybe you forgot to let him, he figures; the possibilities of why you’d left early were endless and it wasn’t like Sebastian wasn’t capable of walking the halls without you so he’d shrugged it off and joined Ominis and Anne instead.

It was really when he entered the Great Hall that everything went wrong.

Despite his brush off earlier, the second he was in the hall, his eyes had strained to search for you, missing the familiar and comfortable conversation he could find in you. He missed seeing your face first thing and making you laugh with one of his silly quips or light teasing, watching you stuff your face full of food because you couldn’t possibly just choose one thing and rather had to have it all and—

And all of that seemed to feel a lot worse when he finally found you and saw you sat at not only the wrong table but with Leander Prewett of all people. If that wasn’t bad enough, you were practically sitting on his lap, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist as you cuddled into his side, giggling as the boy practically fed you.

Sebastian’s feet had moved on their own, despite Anne’s worried call after him and Ominis trying to grab him (because despite not being able to see what Sebastian had, he’d known the boy long enough to know something was terribly wrong). Neither of them had mattered in that moment as Sebastian blindly made his way over to the Gryffindor table, ignoring the curious pairs of eyes that watched him, marching straight up to you and Leander. The latter lazily glanced up at him, looking entirely too smug and pleased about himself as your eyes slowly flickered over to him, blinking, before smiling; “Sebastian!”

The way you’d called his name sounded all wrong. Although you looked pleased, a bright grin on your face, your eyes weren’t sparkling with the mischief he’d come to expect from you and rather you looked dazed.

Lovesick. The word made Sebastian want to throw up.

“Can we help you, Sallow?” Leander grinned, tilting his head in mock curiosity.

Sebastian’s lips part, but he hesitates, bewildered. His eyes flicker from Leander, to you, to the grip he has on you, to the way you’re holding him. “What… what the bloody hell is this?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Leander asks, voice sickly sweet. “Y/N and I were just enjoying breakfast together, weren’t we, love?” And to add to it all, Leander presses a kiss to your cheek and what shocks Sebastian most of all is that you don’t push him away or slap him or anything—you… you respond to the kiss.

Now, it wasn’t like you hated Leander. You knew of Sebastian’s… distaste towards the boy, and that Anne and Ominis in one way or another felt the same, though just not as much. You didn’t care for the boy either, as you’ve told Sebastian plenty, but you’d told him plenty of times not to be too mean or cruel or at least, try to get along with him.

Sebastian feels like he’s going crazy—was this why? Did you want him to at least try and get along with Leander because all along you’d had a secret crush on him or something? 

Had Sebastian misread everything?

The walks together every morning? The late nights spent together? The lingering touches? Longing looks? Flirts and teases and…—

“That’s right,” you grin at Leander, brushing at his bright, red hair and smiling. 

“But…” Sebastian swears he sounds more pathetic than he ever has… he certainly feels it. Watching you stare at Leander with that lovesick expression, smiling and touching him and… had Sebastian just never seen it? Had he been that blind by his own emotions? “You weren’t in the common room this morning,” is what he eventually manages, though it’s rather pointless.

It was obvious where you were.

“Oh,” you call out, blinking, as if you’d just remembered—oddly, that hurts the most. That you’d… forgotten about him. “Sorry Sebastian, I had such an urge to see Leander this morning and… well, I’m glad I did. Because I was finally able to tell him of my feelings,” you smile at him, cupping his cheek. “And i’ve never been so happy to hear he returned them.”

Sebastian’s lips part, his gaze shifting to Leander who’s watching him carefully.

The glare is clear. The meaning is plain.

I win.

Thankfully Anne is flanking his side before he can make more of an embarrassment of himself, grabbing Sebastian firmly by the arm and offering you a small, albeit bewildered smile and a glare at Leander before leading Sebastian away.

It had been two days since then and you hadn’t left Leander’s side once.

The only time you were alone was in the classes you didn’t share with him, and despite the fact that Sebastian had luckily shared one of those classes with you, his hopes at finding out some sort of answer had been quickly squashed when you spent the entire class in a daze. You hadn’t paid attention to the professor at all and spent your time staring off in a blissful, oblivious smile, ever so often whispering Leander’s name under your breath.

Sebastian was heartbroken. And angry. And hurt. And everything in between.

“I want to,” Sebastian admits to Ominis as he pulls himself from the memory. But, then, he sighs. “I won’t though. If… Y/N is happy, well, I guess there’s nothing I can do about that.”

Ominis frowns. “You’re not going to fight it even a little?”

Sebastian turns to him, confused; “you just said you didn’t want me doing that.”

“I just don’t want you to do anything rash,” Ominis argues, shaking his head. “It all still feels so strange to me. I mean, had Y/N given any sort of inclination about her feelings for Leander? I certainly don’t remember her saying anything and neither does Anne.”

Sebastian pauses, “well, no… I guess not. But maybe it was because we’d been clear how we felt about him.”

“Still,” Ominis expresses, leaning forward. “It’s so sudden. She went to bed fine and then woke up that morning and she’s barely spoken two words to us since. We were once her best friends, no?”

Sebastian had been so caught up in his own hurt he hadn’t even begun to think about how Ominis and Anne must be feeling. They were your best friends just as much as they were his after all and it wasn’t just Sebastian you’d steered clear of… you’d been avoiding all three of them like they were the plague. 

Sebastian sighs; “I think she’s just—”

“—She’s been poisoned!”

Both Ominis and Sebastian rear their heads back in surprise at both Anne’s words and her very sudden arrival, not to mention the loud bang that echoes as she slams the box in her hands onto the table with no care for those around. Some Slytherins nearby send her glares but she ignores them, her wide eyes strictly on both Sebastian and Ominis as she pants, out of breath.

“Anne,” Ominis calls, blinking. “What are you talking about? Who?”

“Y/N,” she all but breathes, turning to Sebastian who’s sat beside her. “Y/N’s been poisoned.”

Sebastian’s brows furrowed; “what the bloody hell are you talking about?”

“Look,” she calls, pushing the box in her hands forward. Sebastian eyes it as she takes the lid off, taking in the red and gold wrapping paper, before eyeing the wrapped piece of chocolate Anne pulls out of it. 

Sebastian stares; “it’s chocolate.”

Anne huffs, exasperated. “It’s laced,” she explains, pushing it to Sebastian’s face. “Smell it.”

Completely baffled but unable to resist with the way Anne is shoving the chocolate in his face, Sebastian does as he’s told. Leaning forward, he takes a small whiff, almost immediately frowning in confusion when he does; “it smells like… Y/N.”

For a moment, Anne pauses; “well, that fits,” she laughs, before pulling the chocolate closer to her. “It smells different to me. It smells like—” but she hastily cuts herself off, growing red in the cheeks as her eyes flicker over to Ominis.

A moment passes.

“Okay…” Ominis finally sighs, probably the most confused. “But what does this have to do with Y/N being—” He halts, eyes widening. “Amortentia!”

Anne grins; “exactly.”

“What?” Sebastian cries.

“I found these chocolates on Y/N’s bed,” Anne explains, “with a note attached, signed by Leander.”

The cogs in Sebastian’s mind slowly click together.

“He… he drugged her!” he calls out in disbelief, feeling a new wave of rage flood through him. His eyes snap back to his right, where he’d been staring before, where you are, coddled up next to Leander as he smiles sickly down at you, touching you, kissing you. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Anne is quick to grab onto him, “no.” And at the bewildered look he sends her, she frowns. “We need to get her to Blainey. She’s the only one who can heal Y/N and then the school will deal with him.”

Sebastian wants to argue but despite the anger radiating through him, he knows his sister is right.

-

Your head hurts as you blink away, the bright light above your head causing you to moan in dejection, confused.

Where were you?

Pressing a hand to your face, you try to block the light, using your other hand to push yourself up, slowly, since your whole body hurts in a dull ache everywhere. It takes you a moment to realize you’re in the hospital wing, recognizing the startling white of the room, before a set of hands are falling on you, pulling your attention to your left.

You gasp, panicked, until you see a familiar pair of warm brown eyes staring back at you in concern.

“Sebastian…” You mumble, voice coarse.

He shakes his head at you; “don’t push yourself.” He urges gently, his hand on your back as the other reaches behind you, helping prop you up with your pillows. You let him, still confused, as you glance around the room.

“How… How did I get here?” You asked, not remembering how you ended up here or why… actually, everything feels like a dull blur. The last thing you clearly remember is coming to your dorm after a long day of classes, surprised to see a box of chocolates on your bed and they’d been from… Leander!

Your eyes snap to Sebastian; “Sebastian! I think… I think I may have been poisoned by—”

“Leander Prewett,” Sebastian cuts in, face darkening as he nods at you. “Yes, well, Y/N…”

“You were given the love potion, my dear,” Blainey calls out, stepping into your view with a sheet of paper in her hands, eyes slowly flickering to meet your own with a worried frown. “Amortentia,” she nods, lips pursed. “Thanks to this young man, I was able to give you the remedy rather quickly but it looks like you were drugged for at least a couple days. Your body aches because of the antidote, so I’d like to keep you for a few hours just to make sure everything is alright but overall, there should be no lasting effects.”

Stunned, you let her words register.

Letting your hands fall numbly to your lap, you stare at them.

“Y/N?” Sebastian calls out quietly, pulling your eyes on him as he glances at you in concern. “Are you…?” his words trail, not really sure how to gauge the look on your face.

“I’m alright,” you whisper, “just… embarrassed.”

Sebastian shakes his head; “it’s not your fault—”

The door slamming open catches both of your attention, and your eyes widen when Leander comes storming into the room. The concerned look on his face is quickly replaced with rage when he sees Sebastian at your side, and Leander wastes no time; “just what are you doing—”

But Leander never gets to finish what he’s saying because in the next second Sebastian’s fist is colliding with his cheek, hard, and knocking him off his feet and straight into the ground. Nurse Blainey lets out a cry in surprise as you jump, body tensing as your eyes flicker from Leander to Sebastian, but you’re not afraid. At least not of Sebastian. Rather, his actions fill you with an odd warmth.

“I normally wouldn’t send you straight to detention for that, Mr. Sallow,” Professor Weasley’s voice rings out as she makes her way inside the room, and your eyes widen when you see Ominis and Anne trailing closely behind her. “But given the circumstances, I guess I’ll let such violence pass this once. Just don’t let it happen again, Mr. Sallow.”

Still breathing heavily, Sebastian takes a step back, his eyes easing when he turns to look at the professor. “You got it, Professor Weasley.”

“Now, Mr. Prewett,” Weasley’s voice calls out and the boy jumps as her steely eyes fall on him, scrambling to his feet as he looks around at everyone. “I believe you and I need to have a long chat.”

“B-But—” Leander sounds absolutely pathetic, his eyes falling on you as you simply glare at him, arms crossed over your chest, before falling on Sebastian who grins at him widely.

I win.

“Now, Mr. Prewett.”

Leander all but skulks out behind Weasley.

The second he’s gone, Anne rushes to your side, taking your hands in hers. “I was so worried when you started acting like a lovesick fool for Prewett of all people,” she cries, shaking her head as your cheeks burn, thinking of all the embarrassing things you must’ve been doing for the past few days. “I’m so glad none of it was real.”

Letting out a light laugh, you rub at the back of your neck; “I imagine I embarrassed myself quite a bit, huh?”

“A little,” Ominis says honestly, grimacing. “But it wasn’t your fault and the school is sure to know that when Leander is expelled for using a potion on you like that.”

His words bring comfort, even if a little.

“Y/N must be tired, guys,” Sebastian calls out after a moment. “Let’s leave her to rest.”

Ominis nods, offering you a small squeeze on the shoulder before pulling Anne with him who just grins at her brother; “I trust you’ll take good care of her for me though, won’t you, brother?”

Sebastian’s cheeks burn red and you turn away, but he doesn't argue.

Once Anne and Ominis have left, Sebastian returns to the seat he’d been in beside your bed, Blainey having left to give the both of you a bit of space. There’s a silence that swallows the both of you, and then, slowly, you let your hand fall on his.

“I’m sorry.”

Sebastian blinks, turning to you. “Why are you…”

You bite your lip, looking at your lap, cheeks flushed. “Whatever I did… I know Ominis said it already, but really, none of it was me… you know that, right?”

Sebastian flips his hand, taking yours in his and squeezing. “You have no idea how reassuring that is to hear.” 

Your eyes snap to his, lips parting.

He shakes his head. “Even when Anne discovered you’d been drugged, there was still a part of me that… I–I guess, it’s just… seeing you act that way with him, kissing and holding and-and being with him like that… It made me terribly uncomfortable.”

You shift, leaning closer to him; “just uncomfortable?”

“Jealous.”

He glances up at you, and you meet his eyes, hand still in his as your free hand reaches forward, daring yourself to brush your fingers through his curls. Sebastian lets you, eyes watching you, before suddenly he’s leaning forward and then his lips are on yours, soft and warm albeit nervous, pulling away too soon as your lips part and you stare back at him.

“Incredibly jealous.”

You smile softly, “I didn’t mean any of it.” You whisper, emphasizing the words. “I didn't mean any of it with him because I wanted it to be with you, Sebastian.”

He grins, his face easing for the first time since you’d woken up and the sight of it is enough to fill you with warmth.

Then, Sebastian’s lip part and he’s grinning a little too widely; “that’s a relief because it was almost embarrassing for me to see you fawning over—”

You cut him off with a sharp slap to his shoulder, one he gasps in response to, holding the offended spot but the grin never fades from his lips as he smirks over at you.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”And of course, his eyes sparkle with glee; “nope.”

[pascalssbabyy]

Desperate 💦

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ Explicit

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: You leave Joel in a uncomfortable situation all day while you’re at work. Hours go by and Joel struggles to keep his craving under control. And once you’re home, Joel can’t seem to give you his full potential.

Warning: 18+ SMUT, no use of Y/N, no age mentioned, mostly Joel’s pov, pet names (from both), Joel is a little sub in this but he’s a little dom too?, F!oral, blowjob, Joel gets blue balls, P in V, unprotected sex (don’t be naughty!), Joel's very horny in this, doggy style, premature ejaculation, creampie, overstimulation, rougher sex near the end, one cheeky ass slap, Joel comes twice (love that), Joel is soft and needy so make sure you’re ready. Also, I write the word cock wayyy to many times in this.

🤍 Okay listen, because I have somethin to say. The thought of Joel being so desperate and finishing early has me actually weak and I had to write about it. It’s such a compliment when this happens! Anywayyy, I hope you all had an amazing New Year!🫶🏼 And please enjoy my first fic of this year 🩵

If you’d like to be added to my Taglist. Please let me know! @harriedandharassed @mumma-moonchild @millercontracting @chyannealaniz 🤍

Joel's week had gone agonisingly slower than usual, but thankfully, his weekend off had finally arrived. The weekend was always the time Joel would cherish the most; not having to wake up in the early hours of the morning to spend twelve-plus hours then cutting, shaping and assembling wood that would soon have him shouting obscene profanity into the air or hands trying not to gouge his eyes out from the tense strain he felt in them. He wouldn’t arrive back home late almost every night, exhausted, worn out and in desperate need of sleep.

Joel didn’t have to deal with any of that on the weekends. He didn’t have to put up with impatient customers or irritating coworkers. Instead, he’d wake up feeling refreshed, cheerful, and eager to spend the days with you.

But for Joel, this day would be different than the others. Your work was currently understaffed, and had asked if you could go in for a full day, and Joel knew instantly, being the people pleaser you were, you wouldn’t turn it down.

You were only going to be gone for a little while, surely what could go wrong?

⏰⏰⏰⏰⏰

Joel's 'issue' had started early in the morning when he abruptly woke up just before your alarm, with his cock immediately begging for attention, needing your attention. Joel knew he should let you sleep, knowing you’d both been up late last night with a similar issue he was currently dealing with, but how could he not? You were facing away from him, hair spread out and resting over your pillow with the cover under your armpit. His lips would eventually wake you with tender kisses and roaming hands would glide across your naked thighs, with his own hips thrusting into you, his hard cock rubbing up against your back and a quiet mumble of a good morning baby now caressing the side of your cheek.

It’s the first time Joel opens his eyes, and he stares immediately at you, watching you with a hooded gaze, his pupils adjusting to the dark surroundings. His eyes observe the way your lashes flutter against your face, your eyelids lazily opening, limbs stretching out, and your face pulling inwards as you alter to the morning sun subtly passing through the spilt in your closed curtains and to Joel's now- wondering mouth and hands.

"Joel…" You hum his name, and he groans at the way it falls weakly from your lips, sounding so soft and warm, his length throbbing inside his confined boxers with how it vibrates onto his skin.

“G’morning baby,” Joel repeats, shuffling himself even closer and wrapping both arms around your waist, caging you in as his head falls into the crevice of your neck, his silky curls tickling the side of your face.

His hard cock lies on your lower back, and your body shivers.

"Joel, honey we can't. I have work today, remember? I'll be late—" you whine, your voice unforgiving, but your body soon reacts to how his hands mark and trace your skin.

"Mmm come on sweetheart. Please. I'll be nice and quick, I promise.” Joel's already pulling the covers off, and you gasp at the crisp breeze that falls onto your bare skin, his fingers sliding your wet panties down your legs, his lips moving lower and lower until his teeth gently bite down on the flesh on your thigh.

He stares at your soaked cunt and spreads your folds open with the tip of his finger, you were always so fucking wet and ready, and Joel unintentionally licks his lips at the sight.

“Jus’… please. Just lemme have a taste, s’all I need."

The next lie leaves his mouth with sheer certainty and confidence. “Only need five minutes baby.”

You look down at him with your eyebrows raised.

And that look has Joel thinking, “shit yeah, okay. Maybe ten, give me ten.” And you chuckle at him, your hands soothing his broad shoulders.

“Alright Joel. You’ve got ten minutes. I can’t keep being late, not this time okay?”

He gives you a reassuring nod, his wet lips moving down as he sucks your clit into his mouth, your hands reaching into his hair from the sudden shock.

“Oh my god—yes Joel,” you pant, fingers pulling tightly on his curls, and Joel groans at the harsh pull, the sound wavering causing your hips to buckle up, pushing his face deeper into you.

He hums into your needy cunt, his eyes dropping shut whilst he pushes his two fingers into your hole, curly them up and hitting your pleasure point.

He licks at your folds and gives your clit a light flick, “You look s’good spread out like this for me baby.”

The air is covered in your blissful moans, the sound of your arousal wetting Joel's fingers and sliding down his knuckles and wrist while he fucks you at a steady pace.

“Fuckin’ dreamt about this pretty pussy.”

Joel loves to build it up slowly, to get you right there at a pace where he knows you’ll beg and beg and beg him to make you come, each curve of his fingers and his tongue teasing you closer to your release.

And fuck can Joel feel it right now. He can see it in your face, those short bursts of air being pulled into your lungs, your back curving off the bed, your thighs and hips shaking, and walls hugging his calloused digits.

“M’that’s it, baby,” he ushers, “I know you can feel it. Go on, let go f’me.”

And you do, so effortlessly too, your pussy releasing that pressure and gushing your arousal all over his mouth and stubble, your cunt twitching and convulsing on his fingers as he keeps up with his rhythm, prolonging your orgasm as he helps you ride out your high.

Joel unlatches his lips from your abused clit and pulls his digits out of your cunt, lifting his body so he’s back on top of you with his mouth dropping down onto yours, his moustache and stubble wet with your release as he deepens the kiss.

“Christ, you taste fuckin’ incredible. Could stay in between your legs all day.” Joel praises, kissing your neck until his lips lick, bite, and nibble at your collarbone.

He bends his arm so it’s flat on the mattress to hold his weight while he inches his other lower and under the waistband of his boxers, “Let me feel your pussy on my cock darlin’.”

You cease Joel’s movements before he goes any further. “Joel…” you moan, “I—baby, we can't. You promised. I have to get up. We'll get back to this when I’m home, okay?”

Joel let’s out a whine in the crevice of your neck. Fuck he doesn't want to stop, but he knows he needs to.

"Come on baby,” he attempts to protest, “I don’t think I can wait. I really need you now.”

Your alarm on your bedside table gives Joel the exact answer.

You pout your lips at him, your eyes pondering into his own, smiling at his neediness. “Don't give me that look, Joel. You can wait. I'II be back home before you know it, and then you can have me however you like."

Joel groans at your words, his eyes drooping down at you. He lifts his body off you so he's back to lying on his side of the bed, arms slumped over his eyes to hide his sexual aggravation.

⏰⏰⏰⏰⏰

Joel watches you freshen up and get ready in the bathroom, his body still slumped in the warmth of the covers. You take a quick shower, brush your teeth, make yourself look presentable, and change into your work clothes. Now, you are all set and prepared to leave the house.

With the time that it’s taken you to get yourself up and going, Joel thought his body would’ve relaxed by now, but throughout all of his observing of you, his cock was still hard.

His length was throbbing, and his tip was now leaking in his boxers, and so sensitive to touch when he'd add minimal pressure on it to relieve some of that heavy strain.

A few minutes later you come back into the bedroom, giving him his usual morning coffee and a quick see you soon honey and a kiss goodbye on his lips. But before Joel can muster up another word to keep you here, the bedroom door shuts, leaving him in his train of thought.

His body falls back on the bed in failure, groaning at his knowing regret.

He knew as he lay there he could make himself come, and fuck it would be so easy if he did. The sweet taste of your arousal still lingered on his lips and fingers as he brought them up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits and sucking the remains of your taste off them, a painful sigh erupting from his throat.

Your taste makes his hips buckle up involuntarily, bringing back that vivid memory of being back in between your legs again.

As his cock rested heavy in his boxers, Joel still hadn’t touched himself, not even once. And even though he needs to, he decides he’s going to wait. He actually wants to wait. So once you’re back home, he’ll get to show you how much he’s missed you.

But fuck Joel was well aware at how hard it was going to be to ignore that temptation.

⏰⏰⏰⏰⏰

When Joel gathers enough energy, he crawls out of your shared bed and prepares for the day. He starts by making himself some breakfast, pairing it with the now cold coffee you made him. He then takes a quick shower, brushes his teeth, and finishes off by grabbing a fitted top from the drawer and pairing it with jeans.

He tries to find things around the house to fill up the hours until he sees you; he checks his unread emails and has another cup of coffee; he also cleans and finishes the leftover chores.

He struggled to push the feeling to the back of his mind, to avoid the pulsating he felt in his jeans but fuck he couldn’t help it. He still feels it, that craving. It continues to grow and spread all across his body, it starts to cover all aspects of his mind.

Joel’s established that this was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

⏰⏰⏰⏰⏰

You had been gone for three hours now, not that Joel was checking his watch every half an hour, and it couldn’t have gone any slower for him. Joel as expected, had eventually run out of chores and jobs to do, so he dropped himself down onto the sofa with a heavy thump.

How was Joel going to last the whole day like this? It’s bad enough that he’s bored, but to top it off his cock is still fully hard. And whenever he looks down, his neediness is clearly evident in the way his jeans are pressurised around his crotch.

Maybe if he messaged you and tells you about his 'current situation', you'd make him feel somewhat better.

So he reaches over and grabs his phone, which rests on the coffee table.

Joel: Darlin’. I’m sorry and I know you’re busy but fuck I’m going mad here. I’m still hard from this morning and you’ve been gone for 3 hours. I need you.

He gazes down at the screen, thumbs shaking and whispering a please fucking answer to himself. You’re going to be occupied with jobs he knows that, he just hopes you’ve got your phone on you to help ease him and his ongoing position.

His heart thumps when he sees those familiar dots appearing on the screen. Thank god.

You: Well hello to you too.

You: What's gotten into you, babe? Haven’t you just had me?

You: Wasn’t tasting me this morning enough for you?

Of course, you push and spur him on. The fact that he's messaging you like this, telling you how much he wants you, how he’s still hard for you and how much his cock needs you, for you to then just tease him about it has him yearning for you even more.

Joel: No it wasn’t enough darlin.

Joel: You’re never enough.

Joel: Need you to sit on my cock baby. I’m so fucking hard just thinking about it. Wanted it so bad this morning.

Joel: I don’t think I can last if you’re not here in the next hour.

Joel: Please, baby. I really can’t wait till you get home.

Before Joel met you, he had never been like this. He never was the type of man to be overcome with a passion for someone or even sex in general. It hadn't even been twelve hours since Joel felt the comforts of your pussy on his cock, and by the way he was acting, you’d think it had been fucking months.

You: Well you'll have to wait babe.

You: I'll be home soon, just hold tight.

You: I know you can do that for me Joel.

He groans at your sternness, his head falling back onto the sofa and throwing his phone to the side.

⏰⏰⏰⏰⏰

Four hours till you’d be home.

And all Joel had done was waltz around the house like a madman. Packing the rest of his day with unnecessary jobs or current projects that needed to be finished for next week when he was back at work on Monday.

He eats random contexts from the fridge, he fixes the kitchen tap that started leaking just the other day, he even makes himself a neat whisky with ice, yes it’s that bad, hoping the alcohol with relax the thumping of his heart, the heat flowing through his veins.

He paces around the front room, his body striding from one side to the other. Pull yourself together Joel. Stop fucking thinking about it.

Fuck this he thinks. He can’t take any more of the waiting. He reaches back and pulls his phone out of his jeans pocket, preparing to bombard you with desperate and continuous messages;

Joel: Darlin come home please.

Joel: I can’t take this anymore.

Joel: Thinking about this morning and how you felt on my fingers.

Joel: Fuck baby you tasted so good, licked you off of my fingers when you left.

Joel: Need to feel your pussy around me darlin’. I'll be so good to you, give you whatever you want.

Joel: Gonna fill you up just how you like it.

As Joel began to type his promises to you, his own conscience comes crashing forward, his feet hesitant and stalling to an immediate standstill.

Shit. What would eventually happen when you walked through the door? Could he even give you his full potential when you do? How was he going to fuck you when his cock was so close to coming already?

Joel had been hard for the past five hours now, and he knew indefinitely that the moment his cock is engulfed by your warm and wet walls, he’d without a doubt, come.

This need to have you starts to make his mind dizzy, his vision is clouded and becomes blurry. It causes his knees to buckle under him with each weak step he takes. It causes his body to feel hot, his skin sticking to the material covering his body, his forehead cascaded in a thin sheen of sweat.

He needs to come. No, he has to come if he's planning on fucking you when you get home. And Joel can't wait much longer for you to reply to his texts, so he hits the call button, waiting to hear the sound of your voice.

And just a few seconds later, you answer.

"Hey Joel. Y’called just at the right time. I’m just going on my break.” Your voice comes out a little breathless, it’s mumbled like you’ve been busy with something on the other end.

“How are you honey? Sorry I haven’t texted you in a while."

He wipes his dampened forehead with the back of his hand, his lower limbs squeezing the muscles in his thighs. "Hey, baby.” Joel chokes, coughing out the strain in his voice. “Why don't y’come home on your break?”

He waits for you to say something, but there’s nothing as he prays your following words are yeah okay baby, sure. I'll be there in five.

A silenced chuckle leaves your end of the phone. “You know I can’t do that, Joel. I’ve only just got half an hour, and it takes me twenty to get home. Why? What’s wrong?”

He digs the tip of his fingers into his temples, “Don’t act like this, y’know exactly what’s wrong. Christ sweetheart you're killing me here. I need you to come home, like right now."

He swears he can feel your smile against your phone.

“It’s that bad huh?”

“Yes. Please sweetheart. I’m begging you.”

"Poor Joel. You need me that bad do you? Is your cock still hard since you texted me last?"

Your fucking voice. The way you playfully edge him on. The way the sound travels down and straight to the tip of his cock, his arousal seeping all over his boxers.

It lights up a dangerous spark, his hands pulling at his belt as Joel unbuttons his jeans and lifts his hips up to pull them down his thighs.

This is the first time he’s looked at his cock since he got changed this morning, and fuck he was wet. So wet. Joel wraps his hand around his girth and instantly has to tighten his first around his tip he’s that close to coming, and he wants to make sure you hear all of it.

He bites on his bottom lip, his voice quivering. "Yes…fuck darlin’, I’m still hard. I don't— I don’t think I can wait any longer. Jus’—shit keep talkin’ to me like that.”

Joel’s breath hitches in his throat, the sound of his deprived moans becoming higher and higher in pitch, until it’s cut off with your voice ringing in his ears.

“Are…are you touching yourself, Joel?”

His voice breaks, and the squelching of his hand stoking his cock fills the room, the slick pooling at his head getting wetter and more projecting. “Yes, I-I need—fuck baby’m gonna come."

"Don't you touch yourself Joel. I mean it. Don’t come. You better stop and wait till I get home.”

He can sense you’ve abandoned everything you were doing, putting full attention to the situation in hand. “Be a good boy Joel and wait for me.”

He nods at your demanding words, faltering his movements and it makes his eyes water. Fuck he was so close.

Joel chokes out a shaky yes before the phone call ends, your low and commanding voice echoing in the back of his mind.

Don't touch yourself Joel. I mean it.

⏰⏰⏰⏰⏰

You should have been home twenty minutes ago, and Joel was officially at his wits end, feet banging on the old oak wood flooring and hands in his hair to let out some of his built up frustration. You never had to do any overtime, you’d always arrive home at the same time each shift.

So why weren't you home?

Joel feels like he could pass out he’s that desperate. How he’s lasted the full 8 hours without coming is beyond him.

His ears pick up the sound of a car door shutting, your footsteps following up the driveway, only this time they're much louder; they’re rushed. He knew his words and texts affected you as much as it did him. So when Joel's gets up from the sofa to open the door for you, and when he sees your body standing in the doorway, his heart freezes.

You smile up at him. "Hey Joel. Sorry I’m late the traffic was—” Your words are knocked from your lips when Joel drops his head down and collides his mouth onto yours, a heavy exhale leaving his nostrils.

Joel pulls you inside whilst grabbing the back of your head and slamming the door shut before he pushes you up against it, your back colliding with the wood as he presses his chest into yours.

His cocks hard and thick, digging into your thigh causing you to gasp openly into his mouth.

He needs you to understand. He licks and pours his wants into your mouth in hopes you know that he had listened to you, that he didn’t touch himself after your words, even though he needed to, that he had done what you asked.

That he had been good for you.

Joel’s hovers his lips so there merely just touching yours, his eyes dark and pupils blown, "fuck baby. M’gonna explode if I don’t have you now. Shit—I need to fuck you."

And who would you be to deny him? He had done just what you’d asked of him, and that was clearly evident in the way he was pressing his cock closer to you.

You smooth his jaw with your thumb, and his head falls into the feeling. “You’ve been s’good for me Joel. Not touching yourself. You gonna let me help you? You gonna let me make you come?” You capture his lips with a quick kiss, using both hands to undo his belt, with Joel’s eager hands joining in and helping you undo the buttons, his stare concentrated on your bruised lips.

You swiftly drop to your knees and Joel groans at the sight. "Fuck sweetheart, I won’t last if you—"

"Shush, Joel,” you calmly interrupted him, looking up and hooking your fingers into his belt loops.

“Want your cock inside my mouth first.”

Joel doesn’t know why, but he’s assisting you as you pull his jeans and boxers down in one fleeting move, his thick length bouncing up and now only inches away from your face.

Joel doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard. His tips painfully red and swollen, his shafts decorated with long veins that coated the sides of him, and his pre-comes everywhere. It’s messy, and it makes your mouth water.

“Fuck Joel you’re so wet. I’ve been neglecting you haven’t I. So big and desperate for me aren’t you.”

You grab his hard cock in your hand and bring the tip of his length to your mouth, swirling your tongue along his slit and collecting the pre-come around his head, the salty taste of him pouring all over your tastebuds.

"Fuckkk baby I can’t—" his words are cut off with a sharp intake of breath, your mouth on him instantaneously bringing his orgasm to the surface.

“You can baby,” you praise. “Just hold on for me. Let me do this for you.”

And that’s when you take his length all the way down your throat, alternating between licking the sides of his cock and sucking his tip into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and hands gripped firmly to his trembling thighs.

"Christ—” Joel grits, “sweetheart m'not gonna last if y’keep that up."

You release his cock from your mouth and look up towards him, fluttering your eyelashes at him as you slowly stoke his length with your hand.

"Why Joel? You gonna come? You gonna come down my throat if I don’t stop?”

You had a filthy mouth when you put your mind to it. Joel musters up a feeble yes, his one hand bracing itself on the door, and the other is in the back of your hair. He needs to come so bad, and he’d want nothing more than to come down your throat, but he wants to be inside you when he does.

His stomach tenses in, and it hits him. One more pull of your fist on his cock he’s going to come in your hand.

"O-okay Darlin’. Fuck now y'gotta stop. Shit I’ve waited too long for this to end now."

You remove his wet cock from your grip, raising back onto your knees with a wobble as Joel discards his jeans into a pile in the hallway.

“Y’gonna fuck me now, Joel? Gonna fuck me hard?” You beckon him to follow you up the stairs, your hand interlocked with his.

Joel’s minds in a twisted state. What the fuck is he going to do? You almost pulled an orgasm out of him just moments prior, and now you expect him to fuck you?

And fuck you hard?

Yep, Joel’s screwed.

⏰⏰⏰⏰⏰

Joel treads behind you, and once your feet make their way into your shared bedroom, you both take turns to remove each other's clothing, well, what's left of Joel's until finally, you’re both naked and bare, pushing Joel onto the cushioned mattress by his chest.

You take a seat on top of him, your pussy resting on his lower belly as your mouth collides with his again. It quickly becomes sloppy and rushed, tongues dancing with one another, whimpering desperately into each other’s mouths.

Joel flips you so you’re resting on your back, his lips following down your naked body as he nibbles and licks at your breast, flicking your taut nipple with his tongue and sucking it into his mouth while his one hand plays with the other.

Joel spreads your legs apart and nestles his body above you, his fingers roaming lower and lower so they glide in between your already-soaked folds.

Maybe if he can make you come first, he won’t feel as bad.

“Please, Joel,” you beg, pulling him back up by his shoulders and kissing his lips.

“Sweetheart, let me—,”

“I thought you needed to be inside me,” you murmur, pulling your body up and around as you rests on all fours, arms bent and back arched, your wet pussy now on full display.

“Wanna feel y’deep Joel. Want you to fuck me like this.”

Well shit.

Joel settles himself behind you, perching his cock at your opening and that minor touch already feels too good, he just fucking prays he can last long enough to feel you come around him first.

“You ready aren’t you darlin’. Y’sure you’re ready for me?” He knows he’s overthinking, but he has to make sure that you enjoy this as much as he’s going to.

“Yes, Joel I’m ready,” you promise. “Just please, fuck me already.”

Joel takes a deep breath in before pushing his hips forward, his cock sliding into your velvety walls with so much ease, every inch of his girth becoming engulfed and squeezed as he glides more of himself into you.

You felt tighter than usual, and Joel knew it was because he hadn’t used his fingers to assist with the stretch he knew his cock would give you. Your pussy chokes him, and he’s surprised he didn’t come right there and then.

Once the hairs above his cock meet your ass cheeks, you instantaneously circle your hips, and Joel's hands are quick to grasp onto the plushness of your waist, abruptly stopping your rhythm.

Fuck don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t come.

Joel hisses through his teeth, "f-fuck darlin' jus’. Shit… just—give me a minute."

You whine in protest and the sound makes Joel’s whole body shudder.

If only you could see him right now. If only you could see how he’s already out of breath, how he's looking everywhere apart from you, because he knows if he peers down and sees how well his cock is stuffed inside you, that'll be it.

And it’s the fact that Joel can hardly put in the work. Hands resting on the curve of your waist as his hips directly quaver behind you, he’s barely moving, and that compressed knot in his stomach and the feeling of your walls convulsing around him immediately becomes too much.

He knows your oblivious to how close he is, eyes falling shut, back curved and mouth hung open.

"Fuck Joel…," you moan, "mmm y'feel s'good."

Joel can feel it. His balls begin to tighten, and his cocks way too sensitive; that heat felt boiling in his body, his orgasm rising with each slick glide of your cunt on his length, the pulsing of your walls being too much for him to hold onto.

You're so incased on the pleasure of Joel's cock stretching your cunt open that you don't realise when his hips suddenly stop behind you, his back arching forward, his head falling into the bend of your spine.

He clenches his eyes firmly shut, "okay, m’gonna come”, he warns, blurting out the confession in rambles to apprise you and give you a heads-up before he boils over. "Fuck baby, l can't—" his voice is cut off before pulling your hips back in one deep thrust.

"Holy shit, I'm—" his tone ceased by the long and drooled out moan withdrawing deep within his chest, his cock spurting his hot seed inside your warm walls.

It completely knocks him out, and fuck he’s never had an orgasm this intense before, and the relief it gives him floods all over; his body shakes as his nails dig deep into the flesh of your hips, prolonged and ragged moans floating through the thick air as his teeth bite into your shoulder blade in attempt to keep him quiet.

He repeats your name over and over and over. Like it’s the only word in his vocabulary, like his minds blank and all that hides behind it is you.

You gasp at the mixture of lust filled sensations; the way Joel’s wet skin is glued to your back, his drenched curls scattered across your skin, his cock throbbing and hot as his come paints your insides, his hold indefinitely leaving marks on you, traces of his pained and awaited pleasure.

When Joel’s high subsides and his eyes aren’t clouded with white specks, he lifts his head where it had settled on your back and kisses your shoulder, wrapping both arms under your body, hugging you in a warm embrace.

"Christ sweetheart..." his breaths out, his voice quivering and low, "I couldn't hold it. Shit I've been so fucking hard since you left this morning and I—”

“Joel, honey…” you turn your head towards him, giving his cheek covered in sweat a soft peck.

"—N’you felt so good and tight I just couldn't help myself—”

"Hey,” you gently say. “It's okay Joel.”

Your chest fills with pride with how effortlessly it had taken Joel to fall apart above you. How with only a few minor thrust of his hips had thrown him straight over that edge.

He’s keeps himself nestled inside you, his hand cupping your jaw as he kisses your lips.

“Wanted you to come,” he sighs. “Fuck I should’ve— you always come first.”

Joel’s never been a man to reach his own limit before he’s made you feel good. Wether it be with his mouth, his fingers or his cock, he always has your pleasure in mind before anything else.

“It’s not over yet Joel. You can still make me come.”

And he’s gonna. He eyes holding that determination as the two of you easily sink into that well known pattern, Joel’s tongue exploring the inside of your mouth and swirling your hips around with his strong grip, pulling your ass back onto his still hard cock.

A precious moan leaves your lips when Joel's hand hooks down and under your body, his middle finger circling your clit, causing your pussy to squeeze his cock again.

“Fuck baby,” he murmurs, “this pussy feels so fucking good wrapped around me.”

You need him to move. “Joel. Please,” you whimper.

You start moving your hips on your own this time, orbiting them in small and impatient circles, and Joel simply let’s you, straightening his back and watching how your body moves on its own accord.

Joel's voice comes out more confident, more focused. “Been so mean, haven’t I baby. Putting myself first. Not making my girl come like the good girl she is.”

Joel finally looks down at where you’re both connected, and the sight is filthy. He stares at how easy his cock fills your pussy, your own arousal and his thick, white come covering all of his length and leaking out of your hole and down on the bed cover below.

“Made such a mess baby,” Joel says, his free hand giving you ass a harsh slap, the plushness jiggling from the hit. “Pretty pussy’s already being filled and she still wants more.”

“Oh my—yes Joel,” you sob, “please.”

Joel grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling your head back as you spine arches into shape.

“Go one baby. Gonna watch you come while you fuck yourself on my cock.”

You use all of your energy to drag yourself backwards onto Joel, using all the weight in your arms to help push you back and forth, his cock hitting that soft and spongy spot inside making you moan and whimper his name over and over.

Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel.

“Yeah? That’s it’s baby. Tell me who’s making you feel this good.”

“Yes Joel, f-fuck it’s you—,” you cry, the pleasure overcoming your words.

“That’s fucking right. Keep going baby, keep fucking yourself. Y’doing so well.”

You pull your lip in, your teeth biting down on the flesh before you muster up a yes. Yes thank you Joel. Thankyouthankyouthankyou.

This might be too much for Joel. He’s never endured or persisted on fucking you once he’d already finished, and it makes his body feel like it’s on fire. His skin scorching hot as your ass cheeks slap repeatedly against his groin, his eyebrows furrowing as his cock becomes sensitive to your pussy.

His finger continues to strum over your bundle of nerves, beckoning you further into your own orgasm.

“Joel—please. I’m gonna come,” you confess, moving your hips backwards and forwards at a now much faster pace.

“Go on darlin’,” Joel grunts, “make yourself come, lemme feel it.”

His words of encouragement are the last push you need, and your high washes and crashes over you in vigorous waves, arms shaking as your top half falls onto the mattress below, your moans being muffled by your pillow.

He thrust his own hips in and out of you, “mmm now that’s a good girl. Fuckin’ hell your pussy’s soaking me baby.”

Your fingers grip hard onto the quilt below, with every curse and whimper spilling so willingly from your mouth, and Joel’s continuous praises assisting you through it.

Joel's eyes can’t move away from the scene unravelling in front of him. His cock starts to feel tight and responsive again, fuck could he come again? Shit, he think he could.

Joel can see that you’re body’s no longer shaking, he watches how your face lifts out of your pillow, how your eyes only just open a smidge, with a look of satisfaction displayed across your features.

But his hips begin to move again, increasing their pace and they get rougher, holding your back down with his palm but keeping your ass in the air, fucking his cock hard inside you, his stomach pulling tight and his jaw locking shut.

“Holy fuck,” Joel howls, hips slamming into yours, “yes fuck, m’gonna come again.”

You gaze up at him and your walls pulsate, “please, Joel. Yes—please come inside me.”

Joel’s orgasm rushes through him for the second time tonight. Something he never fucking expected. And he’s surprised when he feels his cock shoot more of his come inside you, your cunt milking him dry and shaking his head in shock at his own ability.

Joel’s hips eventually come to a stop, his body no longer trembling. He lifts you up so your’e sat on his thighs, chest rising as he attempt to recatch his breath.

“Jesus. Fuckin’. Christ.” Joel breaths. “Shit that…that felt fucking incredible.”

Your arm moves above and you wrap your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck, holding and keeping his body up close.

You hum into his neck, “wasn’t too much for you, was it Joel?” You question, looking all over his features as he gives you a consoling smile.

“No sweetheart, it wasn’t.”

And you smile back at that, bringing his lips down just so they’re ever so slightly touching yours.

“I might have to leave you with a boner more often if that’s the result of it. What d’you think?”

He raises his eyebrows at you, shaking his head in immediate disagreement.

“Absolutely not. Fuck darlin’ I don’t think I can go that long again. You can be late for work next time.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked please show a girl some love and tell me what you thought!🫶🏼🩵

[robjn93]

˗ˏˋ stephanie brown accessible entry point

this is a list of comics to understand the basics of her character! ive seen a lot of people who didnt know where to start to read so ive compiled this list to make it as easy as possible for new readers to get into stephanie brown

who is stephanie brown?

daughter of the criminal and abusive father cluemaster (arthur brown), she became the spoiler to ‘spoil’ her father’s robbery and overall to protect herself and her mother from him. eventually she digs the vigilante life. she becomes robin briefly and is currently one of the batgirls!

as SPOILER:

⟢ secret origins: 80-page giant

this comic /technically/ is set in the future and is steph ‘telling the story of her childhood’ but honestly i find it pretty suitable even with no context and a must read in my eyes to understand her motives and character

⟢ detective comics 647 - 649

her first appearance… with the iconic brick in the face 😭 this comic is not set in a precise timeline, just post-robin 1991 and pre-knightfall so you can read it with no context as well!

⟢ showcase ‘95 #5 (second story)

PLEASE READ THIS i never see it in reading lists and its sooo important to me. it shows steph’s strained relationship with her mother when her dad is not in the picture and briefly some of her school life!

i’d say read robin (1993) afterwards because it consistently features steph, as much as it is ‘tim’s solo run’, but here THE most important stories (they were very hard to pick)

⟢ robin (1993) #3 - 5

her first appearance in the monthly! and lordd the timsteph here makes me sick. tim being saved by steph 🫶 also more on her and her mom as crystal is starting recovery from drug addiction

⟢ robin (1993) issue 15 - 16

not gonna lie, a huge part of me wants me to suggest it because you get to see arthur get his ass kicked by steph (sweet revenge) but theres also steph being saved by tim for a change and more on steph’s relationship with her dad

⟢ robin (1993) #35

this story for me conveys properly the impact that steph’s upbringing had on her sense of justice and morality being fundamentally different from batman and robin’s, something tim and bruce just can’t understand

⟢ robin (1993) #40 - 41

warning / implied SA (ariana ☹️) the story is a two-parter, steph’s side in issue 40 uses diary entries to explain how she feels about the whole vigilante ordeal. issue 41 is more timsteph oriented but it shows tim finally acknowledging his feelings for steph

⟢ huntress/spoiler: blunt trauma

this story happens during cataclysm but its not necessary to read the whole thing + dean’s first appearance 😒 he is the scumbag bastard ‘father of steph’s child’ + helena and steph linkup!!

⟢ robin (1993) #54 and 56-57

BAD CASE OF THE STEPHS MENTIONED + steph and crystal bonding and tim and steph getting together!!! + robin 57 as guilty pleasure :3 their first official date

⟢ robin (1993) #58-65

warning: dixon tackling teen pregnancy. we all know how that goes. remember dean? well steph got pregnant! and that guy bailed on her. dean when i get you. this arc breaks me everytime, steph you deserve the world ☹️

⟢ lewis era robin (1993) aka robin #100 - 120 HEAVY ON ROBIN 111

warning for SA / glimpses on steph’s childhood + dealing with the fact that her father is dead etc etc that will just make you think we should all just kill ourselves yk!!!!

as ROBIN:

⟢ robin (1993) #126 - 128

warning: debatable writing. robin steph! but take everything with like 5 pinches of different salts 😭 its bad y’all but it is essential. dan didio when i get your ass. dan didio when i get youuu

⟢ steph is dead! arc aka batman 634, detective comics 800 and 809, batgirl 62

i fucking hate war games so im not putting y'all through that. here instead: tim being so overcome by grief he can barely react to steph's passing, bruce remembering steph and cass hallucinating her as she is about to die

after that please just imagine that steph came back cause about every issue after her death was the worst ooc writing ever so, again, not putting you guys through that (its tough for stephanie brown fans)

as BATGIRL:

⟢ batgirl (2009)

i wanna say im conflicted about its writing but its about the best thing steph had post-revival. they constantly insult her spoiler legacy so not a fan of that!! but it is essential and i mostly like the rest so whatever :3 steph’s uni arc!

after that honestly nothing happened for her character, so heres on hoping she gets more stuff

[solxamber]

Rest Assured - Jamil Viper x reader

4 times you see Jamil nearing his breaking point and the 1 time you intervene

You’ve always prided yourself on being observant. Some might call it nosy, but you prefer thoughtful. After all, if you didn’t keep an eye on things, who would? Especially when it came to someone like Jamil Viper, who, despite his best efforts to appear unfazed, was absolutely not fine.

And lately, it’s been like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

The guy was practically doing everything—cooking, cleaning, managing Kalim, studying, practicing, and dealing with an endless amount of Scarabia chaos. But today? Today felt like the universe decided to crank up the difficulty setting on his life, and you were determined to intervene. But first, you needed to observe.

Instance 1: Spaghetti Saga

It began in the kitchen, where Jamil was, unsurprisingly, cooking for the entire dorm. Kalim, bless his overly-enthusiastic heart, had announced a Scarabia Spaghetti Spectacular—an idea that seemed innocent enough on the surface. Until you realized that Kalim had no intention of helping. Well, he tried. Keyword: tried.

“Jamil! Jamil!” Kalim ran into the kitchen, arms full of ingredients that had no business being in spaghetti. “Look! I found some strawberries! And these marshmallows! They’d go perfectly in the sauce, right?”

Jamil froze mid-stir, his hand gripping the spoon so tightly you were concerned it might snap in two. Slowly, he turned to face Kalim, a polite but strained smile plastered across his face. “Strawberries? In spaghetti sauce?”

Kalim nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! It’s sweet, right? Sweet is good!”

Jamil’s eye twitched, just a little. “Kalim… no.”

“But—”

“No strawberries. No marshmallows. Please.”

Kalim deflated slightly but wasn’t deterred. “Okay! No problem! I’ll just add them to the salad instead.”

Before Jamil could react, Kalim darted off, presumably to wreak havoc on the next innocent dish. You caught the moment Jamil whispered to himself, “I’m in hell.”

And that was only the beginning.

Instance 2: Basketball Breakdown

The next incident occurred during basketball practice. Now, Jamil was usually the best player on the court, no question. Quick reflexes, sharp strategy—he could wipe the floor with the other teams without even breaking a sweat. But today?

Today, it was like he forgot what a basketball was.

It started innocently enough. A pass here, a dribble there, nothing out of the ordinary. But then one of the players tossed him the ball, and Jamil, in a moment that defied all logic and reason, missed it entirely. The ball smacked him square in the face with an audible thud.

The gym went silent. You could hear the collective gasp from the team, all eyes on Jamil, who stood there frozen, gripping his nose.

“Jamil!” Kalim shouted from across the court, jogging over. “Are you okay? Here, I brought some ice just in case!” He whipped out a handful of ice cubes from his pocket, offering them as if this was a totally normal thing to do.

Jamil stared at him, then at the ice cubes, and for a brief moment, you swore you saw his soul leave his body. But instead of snapping, he simply nodded, took the ice cubes, and walked off the court in silence, leaving everyone else standing there in stunned confusion.

“Did he just—?” one of the players started to ask, but you shook your head. “Don’t.”

You made another mental note. This was getting serious.

Instance 3: Paperwork Pandemonium

After practice, you found Jamil in his dorm room, surrounded by a sea of paperwork. And, of course, Kalim was there too, oblivious to the storm brewing in Jamil’s head.

“Jamil, can you help me organize these?” Kalim asked, holding up a stack of papers. “I don’t really know what half of them are, but they seem important!”

Jamil glanced at the pile with a deadpan expression. “Kalim, that’s the inventory for the next three months. You were supposed to file this weeks ago.”

Kalim blinked, still smiling. “Oh… well, I knew it was important!”

Jamil’s fingers twitched as he grabbed the papers from Kalim, scanning them quickly. “These are all overdue. We’re going to get fined if we don’t submit them by tomorrow.”

Kalim’s eyes widened in horror. “Tomorrow?! Oh no! What are we gonna do?”

Jamil took a deep breath, visibly restraining himself. “We aren’t going to do anything. I am going to fix this. Again.”

Kalim, ever the optimist, beamed. “Thanks, Jamil! You’re the best!”

And with that, he was off to who knows where, leaving Jamil alone in the paperwork disaster zone. You watched as he stared at the pile in front of him, his eye twitching again. He muttered something under his breath—something you were pretty sure wasn’t very polite.

You added another mental note. He was hanging by a thread.

Instance 4: The Final Straw (Almost)

The fourth instance happened later that evening, when you found Jamil in the library, supposedly studying for finals. But when you approached his table, you found him sitting there, staring blankly at a textbook. His pen was poised over a page, but he hadn’t written a single word.

“Hey,” you said softly, sitting down next to him. “How’s studying going?”

He didn’t answer at first, just continued staring at the book like it held all the answers to his existential crisis. Finally, he sighed. “I can’t do this.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t… I can’t handle all of this. Kalim. Finals. The dorm. Everything.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice. “It’s too much.”

You stared at him for a moment, then reached over and gently placed your hand on his. “You don’t have to handle it all by yourself, you know.”

He looked up at you, exhaustion clear in his eyes. “Who else is going to do it? Kalim? The other students? No one can do it like I can.”

You could hear the defeat in his voice, the resignation. He truly believed he was stuck in this never-ending cycle of responsibilities, with no way out.

That was it. You’d seen enough.

The Fifth Time’s the Charm: Break Time for Jamil

Without another word, you grabbed Jamil by the arm and pulled him out of the library. He barely had the energy to protest, following you like a zombie as you led him to a quiet, secluded spot in the courtyard. Once there, you gently pushed him down onto a bench.

“Sit,” you ordered, and to your surprise, he didn’t argue.

He sat there, looking completely drained, his usual sharpness dulled by exhaustion. You sat next to him, feeling your heart twist as you saw just how close he was to breaking down. This wasn’t the Jamil you were used to—this was someone who had been running on fumes for way too long.

You didn’t even think. You just acted. Before he could react, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

Jamil stiffened at first, clearly not used to such open displays of affection. But after a few seconds, he slowly relaxed, leaning into your embrace like a man who had been drowning and finally found a lifeline.

“I’m so tired,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You hugged him tighter, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I know. You’ve been doing too much for too long. You need a break.”

“I can’t,” he muttered, shaking his head. “There’s too much to do.”

“Screw the to-do list,” you replied. “You’re not a machine, Jamil. You need to rest, or you’re going to collapse.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just leaned into you, letting himself be vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before. You could feel the tension slowly draining from his body, the weight of his responsibilities finally lifting, if only for a moment.

And then, before you knew it, he was asleep.

You blinked in surprise, looking down at his head resting in your lap. His breathing had evened out, and his face, usually so guarded and composed, was now relaxed in peaceful slumber.

You couldn’t help but smile, gently running your fingers through his hair. He needed this more than he’d ever admit. And you? You were more than happy to be his pillow.

Jamil didn’t wake up for a while, and when he finally did, it was gradual, the soft sunlight filtering through the trees casting a warm glow over the courtyard. His lashes fluttered against your lap, his brows furrowing slightly in confusion as he blinked awake. The moment he realized where he was, nestled against you, his cheeks flushed and honestly, he looked adorable.

“I—” Jamil began, his voice thick with grogginess as he pushed himself up, wincing at the stiffness in his muscles. “Did I fall asleep?”

You offered a soft smile, brushing a few strands of his hair away from his face. “Yep. Right in my lap, too. You must’ve been really tired.”

His eyes widened, and the blush on his cheeks deepened. Jamil rarely let his guard down, but right now, he looked almost vulnerable, caught between embarrassment and gratitude. “I’m… sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Jamil,” you interrupted gently, placing a hand on his arm to keep him from sitting up fully. “Don’t apologize. You’ve been running yourself ragged, and you finally let yourself rest. I’m glad you did.”

He stared at you, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. His shoulders sagged, and for once, he didn’t try to fight it. He stayed close to you, his body still angled toward yours, like he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away completely.

You could see it, the weight of the exhaustion he’d been carrying for so long. The lines of stress etched into his face, the constant need to be on alert. Jamil had always been the responsible one, the one who took on everyone else’s burdens. But now, in this moment, you wanted to be the one to take care of him.

“Hey,” you said softly, threading your fingers through his hair again, watching as his eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “How about we get out of here? Take a break. A real break.”

Jamil’s eyes opened, and he frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, let’s go somewhere. Just the two of us. Somewhere far away from all of this. No Scarabia, no endless responsibilities. Just… us.” You leaned in a little closer, lowering your voice as if you were sharing a secret. “You deserve it, Jamil. You’ve done more than enough. It’s time to take care of yourself.”

He hesitated, his frown deepening, as if the very idea of abandoning his duties was too much to comprehend. “I can’t just leave… there’s too much to do. Kalim—”

“Will be perfectly fine,” you interrupted, your tone leaving no room for argument. “And besides, I think Kalim would be all for this. In fact, I bet he’d love the idea.”

Jamil looked unconvinced, but before he could argue further, you gave him a gentle nudge. “Think about it. You could actually relax for once. No one bothering you, no one asking for a hundred different things at once. Just peace and quiet. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

He glanced down at his hands, clearly mulling over your words. You could tell he was struggling with the thought of letting go, even just for a little while. Jamil had been in control for so long, it was hard for him to imagine a world where he didn’t have to be.

But you weren’t about to let him slip back into that cycle.

Reaching out, you gently cupped his cheek, tilting his head up so he was looking at you again. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, Jamil. Let me take care of you for a change.”

His breath caught at your words, and for a long moment, he just stared at you, something soft and unspoken passing between you. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned into your touch, his eyes slipping closed as he exhaled a long, weary breath.

“I don’t know if I know how to relax,” he admitted quietly.

You chuckled softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Good thing you’ve got me then. I’ll teach you.”

There was a beat of silence, and then, with a small sigh, Jamil opened his eyes again, his gaze meeting yours. “You really think we could just… leave? Just like that?”

“Absolutely,” you said, the determination clear in your voice. “We’ll go somewhere beautiful, somewhere quiet. No one to bother us. Just you, me, and a whole lot of nothing.”

Jamil let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head slightly. “And what about Kalim? He’s bound to make a mess of things if I’m gone too long.”

“Don’t worry about him,” you said with a grin. “We’ll get him on board. Heck, Kalim will probably help us pack.”

And as if summoned by your words, Kalim himself appeared around the corner, grinning ear to ear like he’d just heard the best news of his life. “Did someone say vacation? I am so in!”

Jamil stared at him, his expression caught between disbelief and mild exasperation. “Kalim—”

Kalim bounded over to you both, practically vibrating with excitement. “Oh, Jamil, this is perfect! You’ve been working so hard lately, you totally deserve a break! You should l go somewhere fun! Ooh, maybe a beach? Or the mountains! Or, ooh, how about a floating island? I heard there’s one with the best sunrises!”

“Kalim—” Jamil tried again, but Kalim was on a roll.

“I’ll even help you pack! I can get everything ready! Don’t worry about Scarabia, I’ve got it all covered!” Kalim’s grin widened as he clapped Jamil on the shoulder. “You just focus on relaxing!”

Jamil blinked, looking thoroughly overwhelmed by Kalim’s sudden enthusiasm. “I… don’t know what to say.”

“How about ‘yes’?” you teased, nudging him again. “Come on, Jamil. You deserve this. Let yourself have something nice for once.”

Jamil glanced between you and Kalim, clearly torn. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the part of him that still wanted to cling to his responsibilities, to keep everything in order. But then, slowly, his expression softened. He let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“…Fine,” he muttered, his lips curving into a small, tired smile. “But only if you promise we’re not going anywhere too ridiculous.”

Kalim’s eyes lit up, and he practically bounced on the balls of his feet. “Yes! Don’t worry, I’ll find the perfect spot! You’ll love it!”

But before Kalim could dash off in a whirlwind of excitement, there was a sound behind you that made you groan inwardly—Crowley.

The headmaster sauntered into view, his usual over-the-top grandeur evident in every step. “Vacation, you say? Oh, I’m afraid that won’t be possible! You see, I was just about to ask you two for some assistance with a few important matters—”

Before he could finish, Jamil stood up sharply, his expression darkening. For once, it wasn’t the usual calm, collected Jamil standing in front of you. This Jamil was one step away from grabbing Crowley by the collar and shaking him like a rag doll.

“Headmaster,” Jamil began, his voice low and dangerous, “I have been running this dorm, managing everything from meals to paperwork, while studying and handling Kalim’s disasters for months. I have not had a break. I am this close to losing my mind.”

Crowley blinked, clearly taken aback by Jamil’s sudden intensity.

“If you try to take this vacation from me,” Jamil continued, his tone flat but terrifying, “I swear I will not be responsible for what happens next.”

Crowley opened his mouth to protest, but one look at Jamil’s expression—wild-eyed, teetering on the edge—was enough to make him think twice. “Ah, well, I suppose the matters can wait! Yes, yes, of course! You both deserve some time off. Enjoy your… rest.”

Jamil didn’t wait for any further confirmation. He grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet, and shot Crowley a glare that could have melted steel. “We’re leaving. Now.”

You tried to suppress your laughter as Jamil practically dragged you away, Kalim bouncing along happily beside you.

Once you were a safe distance from the courtyard, Jamil finally slowed down, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He glanced down at you, his hand still holding yours.

“You really think this is going to work?” he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

You grinned, squeezing his hand gently. “Absolutely. I’ll make sure of it.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you saw Jamil smile—a real, genuine smile, soft and full of relief. He leaned in closer, his voice low as he whispered, “Thank you. For… everything.”

Your heart fluttered as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering just a little longer than necessary. “You deserve it,” you whispered back, resting your head on his shoulder. “And I’ll be right there with you the whole time.”

Jamil chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around your waist as you both walked off, Kalim already rambling about potential vacation spots. But for now, you didn’t care where you were going. All that mattered was that it would be the two of you together.

Masterlist

[transformers-spike]

Hello ummm can I order a uhh wholesome Starscream x human!SO with the SO being into praising him and caring for him? And he of course is drinking it all up because he needs love and reassurance more than he could ever admit

Yet again my brain decided to go for a full length novel, so I had to pull back and came up with this. Think of this as them before they got together:

“Are you alright?” “Of course I am! Why would you think otherwise?” he snarks, puffing up like a disgruntled cockatiel. You squint and look him up and down with the most “dude, just admit it” expression you can muster. He glares at you for what feels like ages, ridiculous brow plates knitted into a “fucking try me” V. You sigh, take off the welding mask and put down the torch. “I’m worried about you.” Those very same brow plates shoot up to the sky. “Pah! I don’t need your worry!” he scoffs like he isn’t bleeding out in the middle of the woods. “Sure you don’t, but I’ll have you know there’s only so much I can do! We should call Ratchet.” His fist slams to the ground, you stumble but manage to catch yourself before falling face first into the deadly spikes adorning his stiletto. Death by high heel isn’t on your “appropriately ironic deaths” list, but you should add it. If your brain didn’t slosh inside your skull like a snowglobe in the hands of a petulant two year old, you could have sworn the mighty ex-commander of the Decepticons looked apologetic for a split second. “I would rather not deal with the likes of the Autobot medic,” he declares in a slightly softer voice, although not without his usual amount of scorn. “After all, you’re doing just fine,” he croons in a sly, buttering tone. Maybe you could have believed him if he hadn’t been constantly berating you for fucking up the impromptu surgery. You are not a medic, goddammit! Much less well-versed in the art of welding shut a metal alien from a planet light years away! You’re just some car junky with pyromaniac inclinations! But seeing him this way… covered in grime and energon, wings hanging low and servos shaking. You’re glad you didn’t send him to voicemail.

You pat his leg. “Thanks, but if this happens again I’m calling Bulkhead to haul your ass back to base whether you like it or not.” Putting on your welding mask, you keep working. Starscream stays oddly quiet, not even bothering to beep at you indignantly when your torch falls out of line. It’s no Picasso, but the bleeding has stopped. After you step back to give him some space, he tests out his leg, standing up and shifting his weight from side to side. The injured leg strains but does not collapse. “Good?” you ask. “Manageable,” he mumbles in his typical “it kinda sucks but I have to be grateful” way.

Pride fills you up like a single mom downing martinis during happy hour. Although not the best compliment, it’s a Ritz-Carlton coming from him.

“Do you want to go back to base? Or just… hang out here? In the middle of the woods?” He wrinkles his optical ridge at you but doesn’t answer.

“Okay,” you drawl out, taking a seat on possibly the most comfortable rock in Nevada. Years pass by – or so it feels like – waiting for the usually extremely bitchy (thus chatty) bot to break the silence. He does not. “I think I should go,” you sit up and thumb at your car, parked all the way across the woods on the main road, a good hike from where you’re currently at. “Don’t,” he hisses. His expression is almost… forlorn if not for his angry brows. Oh fuck off, the emotionally constipated airplane war criminal can’t ask you to hang out without hurting his pride. Which makes you the responsible adult of the situation compared to the billion year old metal chicken. And by God, you are the least responsible person you know (excluding Starscream).

So you sit your ass back down and lock eyes with said chicken. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what happened?” you ask, fully expecting him to shut you down by calling you fleshling and waving your humanity over your head like a shitty “begone” charm.

Instead, he thinks about it, averting his gaze from you and turning it to the vast wilderness beyond the trees. “Vehicons,” he states bitterly. “Either it was a purely coincidental dogfight or… Megatron is after me.” His whole frame shudders, wings sinking as low as they can go.

“I see.” You pause to take a deep breath. “Do you want to tell the Autobots?”

He shakes his helm and loosens a self-deprecating chuckle from his vocalizer. “Like they would listen to me.” You scrunch up your nose. “How about I tell them? Would that be easier for you?” His optics widen for a brief moment before returning to their perpetually conniving state. “I’m not delighted with the option, but it’s preferable considering their propensity for gathering unsolicited information.” The silence returns. “Hey, I know it’s not the best time to bring this up. But you don’t even have to answer, just please hear me out.” He peers at you wordlessly. “You’ve been through-” you gesture at dry neon blue energon adorning his frame “-a lot lately. I’m not asking you to talk about your feelings or anything like that, but if you ever need someone to just… be around, I’m here.” His expression hasn’t shifted one bit. It’s completely unreadable. You continue on with gritted teeth. “Personally, I’ve never defected from an extremely violent faction and been hunted down through the sky, but I find it’s easier to suffer around friends and family. They help shoulder the pain.”

He arches a metal brow. “Are you implying we’re friends?” “I mean-” you stammer, “I definitely consider you a friend. If you don’t, that’s fine, I’m not forcing you or anything. To each their own. But that’s beside the point-” A lengthy chuckle cuts you off. “Does a friend answer their comm in the middle of the night cycle and perform surgery with sub-optimal tools?” You’re not sure if he’s insulting you or trying to make a meaningful point. Maybe both. “If so,” he continues, lips quirking into an intimidating but somehow genuine smile, “we are friends.” Your brain flatlines. “Oh,” you whisper. “OH,” it hits you like an F-15 Fighting Falcon at full speed. “I… okay. So, um, if you want to hang out and stuff, I can stick around until five o’clock. Then I’ll have to leave and get ready for work.”

“Good enough,” he scoffs good-naturedly, having returned to his bitchy old self with slightly less bitchiness. But the smile he doesn’t bother hiding betrays something deeper. Starscream is your friend. Starscream called himself your friend. Holy shit, you think you’re going to have an aneurysm.

[hayatoseyepatch]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: One of Endo's favorite pastimes is flustering Sakura and his cute little girlfriend, but what he hears when going to find you both winds up with him being flustered instead.

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗: Haruka Sakura & Yamato Endo (Wind Breaker)

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.2k

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘: Fem!Reader x Sakura ft. Endo (Hybrid) ⚠️NSFW Dark Content⚠️.

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: Voyeurism, male masturbation, descriptions of penetrative sex, spitting, implied bisexual Endo, semi-public sex, praise, degradation.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: This was honestly one of the more fun ones for me. Idk I just like the idea of Endo being in love with Sakura and his partner (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ Maybe they knew maybe they didnt, who knows. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! My full masterlist for my kinktober can be found here.

Endo had wandered around the crowded him in search of Sakura and his cute little girlfriend. Chika was enraptured In a one-sided conversation with Umemiya, having not paid attention to his tattooed counterpart for the last fifteen minutes. Now that their tensions were over for years at this point, Endo and Choka often even found themselves invited to Bofurin reunion parties. One of his favorite pastimes had always been hanging around Sakura. Once they were on “friendly” terms Endo very quickly discovered just how easy Sakira was to fluster and he took advantage of every single moment he could get a rise out of him. He found no greater pleasure than seeing him all red cheeked and angry, his little tsundere.

And then there was you, his cute little girlfriend who was just as easy to rile up. With Sakura gaining more experience with dealing with Endo and the others it was a bit harder to get him to procure that delicious reaction from him. However, a few well placed words and a brush of your hair from your face and Sakura was fuming. Just how he liked him.So off he went in your shared home to go looking for you both, probably tucked in a crowded corner, the two of you not huge fans of the crowded scene.

And that’s when he heard it.

A high-pitched breathy whine, a name falling from someone's lips in the most delectable sound he thinks he’s ever heard.  “Haruka.”

Endo was quick to slide, back flush against the wall next to the door of your shared bedroom. His heart racing in his chest. Were you two…. Here? With all of your friends just a staircase away? Endo could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, and the blood rushing to his cock hearing Sakura speak, the sounds that had been so freely falling from your lips now slightly muffled. He presumed he had a hand over your mouth. “I know, kitten, I know. But you have to be quiet, someone might hear.” Sakura’s voice was deep and breathy, in a tone Endo had never heard before.

And it made Endo’s cock throb in desperate need.

Endo closed his eyes, head resting against the wall as his hand slipped down o palm his aching cock through the fabric of his jeans. Straining his ears to listen, he heard it. The delicious sound of skin slapping against skin, your muffled moans around Sakura’s palm. Imagine what you both looked like. So desperate and needy, you both sounded so fucking sexy. And Endo wasn’t sure if he was more jealous of you, Sakura, or the fact that he wasn’t between you both. He knew himself, he knew his flirting with you both was nothing meaningless. Knew that he’d give anything to be with you both, even just once.

The door was cracked, he knew it was from the moment he approached. But it took all of his courage to peek through the crack, eyes blowing wide as he saw you both. Sakura had you impaled on his length his hand covering your mouth to muffle your cries. Fuck. You both looked so perfect. He watch with unblinking eyes as Sakura’s large hand moves, opting instead to cup your face. His fingers pressing into your cheeks, allowing your mouth to open. He watches in shock as the other man lets a glob of saliva pass through his lips and into your waiting mouth.

“Go on and swallow for me, yeah princess? Or maybe I should make you hold it in your mouth, see how well you can moan against a mouth full of my spit.”

Sakura’s tone is teasing, almost cruel, he had never seen him like this. It had hs own throat contracting, swallowing dryly as if it was his mouth Sakura had spat into. Reaching down he unbuttons his pants, tugging down the zipper without ever letting his eyes leave the scene playing out in from to him. He bites hard on his bottom lip, stifling the gasp of breath that threated to alert you both to his presence when his fingers reached into his boxers to wrap around his cock. A shudder wracking his bode when you stick your tongue out, alerting both men that you had swallowed Sakura’s spit just as instructed. Making both of them groan in unison.

“That’s my girl, daddy's pretty little kitten, always so good for me. Now you have to be quiet, you still wanna be able to cum on my cock don’t you?”

Endo watches as you nod looking at him, clearly already fucked dumb for however long you had both been up here. Sakura grins, placing a sweet kiss to your lips before resuming his movements. His hands hook under your knees, pressing your knees to your chest, now able to hit a much deeper angle. Groaning a long low growl of your name and a slew of profanities as the sound of his hips meeting yours fills the room once more. For someone so concerned with how loud you were being it seemed like Sakura was having trouble of his own. Endo watched as he fucked you, timing the rhythm of the fist pumping his cock with the ruts of Sakura’s hips. Setting the same pace so it felt like he was involved in your intimate moment.

Sakura’s hips don't falter, Endo watches in fascination as he keeps up his speed, though it seemed with each snap of his hips he was only hitting deeper with each pass. Watching the angling of  his hips just right to find that sensitive spot deep inside your walls, grinning maliciously when he does so. His chuckle is deep, cruel, against your neck when he's rewarded with your pathetic attempt to muffle a whimper of his name. All the while Endo’s fist never stopped moving pumping his throbbing shaft to the sight of the both of you, rutting his hips pathetically into his own touch wishing it was him inside you instead, wishing Sakura attempted to keep him quiet with his cock down his throat. He was embarrassed at how quickly he felt the coil tightening in his belly, however, it didn’t seem like he was the only one on edge. Watching your eyes blow wide, looking desperately up at Sakura as you spoke.

“Haru.. Haru please.. gonna, I’m so close~”

He had to stop himself from whimpering that he was too, hand moving faster to keep in time with Sakura’s increase in speed, it seemed like he was desperate to cum too. Mentally begging you both to cum with him as white blurred the edges of his vision. The sounds of Sakura kissing you messily, the squelching of your cunt echoing off the walls as your muffled cries melted with his own as he was thrown so violently into orgasm. Painting his hand and abdomen with his seed, eyes wrenched shut. Catching his breaths, he tucked himself back into his pants, slinking off to the nearby bathroom to clan himself. The heaviness of his actions weighed on his shoulders as he only had one thought in his mind.

How was he going to get into that bed with the both of you.

𝕯𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖇𝖞 @/𝖈𝖆𝖋𝖊𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖊 & @/𝖘𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖐𝖆-𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖘.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @littleplantfreak @maruflix @umemiaa @stunies @eevees-hobbies @143-ilyuu @uzxotic @princesstiti14 (𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙/𝖉𝖒/𝖆𝖘𝖐 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖆𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖘) (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

[honeydippedwaffles]

Smallest Drop

Summary: Tav overhears Astarion complaining about their situation and decides to do what she can to make it a little better for him and she ends up surprising him in the process.

Tav isn't referred to by name. There might be a part 2 if this is well-received.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 1.8k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

It started when she overheard a passing comment from behind her, grumbled in response to something Lae’zel said.

From the earliest parts of the day, they’d been making their way through difficult terrain; surrounded by thousands of bugs and mud up to their ankles. She’d tried not to complain about it though Astarion never shared her focus on quiet suffering and he had a fair point.

Though they’d managed to set up a fairly comfortable camp outside the grove – not wanting to impose nor deal with the druids for too long – they hadn’t really found any chance to properly bathe since their abduction.

The late afternoon glinted into her eyes as an idea presented itself.

She slipped away from the group almost excitedly to find the abandoned house where she’d spied it not long ago. After making sure it contained no nasty surprises, she’d left. It didn’t really have a roof and the majority of it had been burned down by some form of magical fire but most importantly, it had a tub.

One night together shouldn’t have made her so weak for the elf but despite all his sweetened words and falsities, he captivated her attention. She knew he meant little by it but sometimes those words made her days brighter regardless.

And she wanted to return the favour given how the muddy path came from her badly thought-out route.

The river running close by provided her with clean and cool water, not the easiest to move in large amounts but still able to fill the tub. It didn’t leak (a minor miracle) and she managed to use a little more of her already-exhausted magic to get a few charms warming the water up.

She smiled at her work proudly and left the charms to do her work while she made her way back to the grove to get some soaps.

Her shoulders shook a little as she eyed her small surprise. Proud and excited, she now faced the greatest of tasks.

Encouraging Astarion to actually step away from camp.

“No, thank you,” he said, dismissed her with the casual wave of a hand. “I’ve had quite enough traipsing through the forest for one day. If you want to continue finding every possible swamp insect to attack you, you’re welcome to be my guest.”

She sighed. “But I have something to show you. It’s a surprise.”

He smiled, strained. “My, aren’t you a desperate little thing. Maybe I’ll join you a little later in the night but for now, I’m afraid I don’t have the energy or the interest.”

“No, it’s not…” she groaned. “It’s just a bath, alright? I overheard you complaining about being dirty earlier so I found one for you.”

“Did you now?”

“Yes. Come along. Those runes aren’t going to last forever and I know you’re going to fuss about the water temperature.”

Astarion chuckled and she immediately knew he didn’t believe her. “I appreciate the creativity, darling. Really, I do, but you’ll find direct offers are far more effective on me.” He leaned closer and she became suddenly aware of how many eyes watched them from around the camp. “But if you’re really going to such lengths, I’m not going to deny you forever.”

Flushed, she stepped away and ducked her head. “Fine. I’ll use it myself but you better not complain once more about it.”

She ignored the slightly concerned expressions of her friends as she stormed back into the tree line by herself. Why she even thought he’d appreciate it… she shouldn’t have even bothered offering it to him. She really needed to be more selfish if she wanted to not get turned down by the vampire spawn again.

It stung more than she expected it to, even if she wasn’t offering anything more than an actual bath.

She brushed her fingers over the surface of the still-warm water when she got there and sighed. It still felt like a waste, even if she used it. Amazing how homesick she’d grown for her house when stuck out in the wild with nothing more of comfort than a single bedroll.

Maybe she should have stolen one of those beds from the goblin den they cleared.

The floor creaked and her hand flew to her weapon, spun around only to find a very arrogant elf who appeared annoyingly surprised.

“My, so it wasn’t even a ploy alone,” he said. “You genuinely managed to find a bath. I respect your dedication if nothing else. There are certainly easier ways of seeing me undressed.”

She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the water. “I was trying to do something nice for you but as you’re not interested, feel free to return back to camp.”

He stepped close enough to brush his fingers against her cheek. “Whoever said I wasn’t interested?”

“You did. In very direct words.”

“Well, things change. I’ve decided you’re quite right. It’s been far too long since I got to wash and you’ve been so sweet, setting it all up for me. I couldn’t be rude and turn you down right now, could I?”

Cursing the elf beneath her breath for his indecisiveness, she moved to walk past him. “Enjoy.”

Once again, she surprised him and Astarion took a second to respond, calling to her as she reached the edge of the charred flooring.

“You’re not joining me?”

She looked back at him. “Am I meant to be?”

“Why, yes. I can hardly be expected to do things like washing my hair all by myself. What if I get lonely or attacked?”

She frowned at him but he kept smiling at her in the same insistent way he did when he wanted something. The corner of his lips pulled up as though he knew a joke and didn’t want to share it. She couldn’t help herself but relent under his burning gaze; he’d done the same thing when she’d agreed to let him drink blood from her throat. Perhaps she should be concerned with where her willpower went when it came to this man.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll help with your hair if you really need.”

“How fun.”

He insisted on being as distracting as possible when he got undressed. His constant glances at her met nothing in return but she couldn’t help glancing at the scars as he lowered himself into the tub.

Their ridges made her uncomfortable. Not knowing what it said frightened her for Astarion’s safety rather than her own.

Nothing good ever came from runes carved into flesh.

“There’s no need to act so shy, beautiful. You’ve seen me in far more compromising situations than this.”

She wouldn’t call their night together compromising but she ignored the comment regardless. His soft sigh of relaxation as he settled into the water worked wonders for clearing up her irritation.

How he managed to be so magnetic astounded her. She found a spot to sit behind him and slowly, gingerly, began to help him with his hair. Despite being ridiculously soft considering how long they adventured in the wilderness, it needed some careful care and attention.

She took care to stay gentle when she found where tangles turned into knots and worked them free without pulling. He gave a small hum when she had to give a soft tug and she took it as an okay to use a little more force.

“We don’t have much to work with but I did manage to get some things from the grove,” she said. “It won’t be up to your standards but I don’t think anything really is.”

Cagey about his past, all she knew surrounded the small snippets he gave her when upset or ranting. She doubted he’d ever had much time to fuss over which hair products he used, too busy watching over his shoulder for a constant threat. He still did so now when he thought nobody could see. His meditation never held him deeply as sleep took her.

“Regardless of whether or not it’s professional, I won’t complain about your skills with this.”

“Skills at detangling your hair?”

“At winning my favour.”

She frowned a little and focused on the white locks where they curled between her fingers. “I’m not only doing this because I want to impress you.”

“I’m sure you have other motivations,” he hummed, teasing. “But you know you’re more than welcome to join me whenever you’re ready. You chose a good-sized tub for both of us.”

She ignored him again, instead focusing on working out a tight knot. Once done, she encouraged him to lean back a little so she could massage the soap gently into his hair, rubbing soft circles against his scalp until his eyes fluttered closed and the smallest hint of relaxation showed in his expression.

Good. He carried far too much tension and she stopped herself from continuing the slight massage down to where she could see the stress in his neck and shoulders. How uncomfortable it must be but she didn’t want to encourage whatever strange idea he had about this situation.

Still, even if she hadn’t planned anything, she couldn’t deny her attraction.

She wanted to press her lips to the pale skin of his neck and trace the path of the water droplets as they pooled against his collar bone. She wanted to trail her hands over his sides and pull him close.

She coughed to stop her thoughts before they ran too far.

If the parasite in her skull didn’t kill her soon, she may just die from the way this elf made her heart pulse unnaturally fast.

“Everything alright?”

He sounded… well, still as flirtatious as ever but more concerned than she thought he would. She snapped her attention back to him and almost lost herself in those stunning eyes.

If she wanted to, she could so easily fall prey to his sweetened words and he really wouldn’t mind. He would encourage it even.

She finished washing the last of the soap from his hair and stood up somewhat uneasily. Pride still shone in her chest as he sat up properly, appearing far cuter than she anticipated with his hair falling flat against his skin.

She saw the invite on his lips before he even said it. Watched him flick whatever switch he had to draw her in and she hurried to leave.

“I’ll see you back in camp, alright?”

His confused expression followed her as she stepped away from the building but he didn’t call her back. She found her way back to camp with a slight heave to her chest and a desperate need for a distraction.

Though she really should have thought it through before she asked Lae-zel to spar with her. The bruise kept her up for the entire night – long enough to realise he didn’t come past for a taste of her blood in the evening.

[sammylkcho]

Please.. Forgive me.

Warnings/Notes: vague descriptions of dismemberment, descriptions of gory scenes, angst, deaths, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, mentions of suicide, more questions than answers

"I'm sure we’ll be able to get out of this, especially with Painter’s help.. distracting those disposables Urbanshade brings so we can grab the crystal" you said in a cheerful voice, swinging your legs back and forth from the box you were sitting on.

Sebastian let out an uncomfortable hum, his attention glued to the files marked "CLASSIFIED" in bold letters. He was pouring over the documents without even a glance away, barely even pausing to breathe. You’d seen him work himself to exhaustion like this before, sometimes even passing out from the strain. Secretly, you were starting to worry he’d begin hallucinating from the lack of sleep.

Your face unconsciously tightened into a frown, and your lips pressed into a thin line as you noticed his anxious habit—running a hand through his hair and trying to tuck it behind his fins. It reminded you of when he’d always push the hair falling down each side of his face behind his ears back when he was (well, still is) human.

Quickly replacing your frown, you kept chatting away about all the things you could do once you were back on the surface. You mentioned how living by a nice beach could be a fresh, relaxing start for both of you after everything. Painter could even capture the beauty of the sunsets there.

There was no sign he was listening, but you knew his mind was elsewhere. Still, you kept talking—it was a surefire way to help calm your own nerves.

Listening to Painter ramble on about whatever he liked—a new drawing or sketch he’d made, or even just complaining about the disposables—was one of the only things that could ground you, helping keep you tethered when your thoughts began to consume you. Somehow, it both soothed you and brought back all the anxieties you were left with at the end of each day.

Sometimes Painter noticed the shifts in your mood and asked about them. Usually, you didn’t tell him anything to avoid worrying him, letting him continue his usual ramblings, but today was one of those rare moments when you let a thought slip.

“.. Are you alright? I started complaining about Sebastian, and you didn’t even jump in to defend him or argue about it” he noted, trying to keep the worry in his tone hidden. Being soft or consoling wasn’t something his programming was used to after all his time in a place like this.

You looked down, trying to find the right words to explain to the AI the emotional mess you were in now (and, honestly, always) and to make him understand, even just a little.

“It’s just... Is it wrong that I’m becoming numb to someone dying? I used to feel sick, to gag whenever I saw a disposable’s corpse, and now it doesn’t faze me—their deaths or the brutal injuries. It’s like it doesn’t gross me out at all. I think picking through bodies with Sebastian is getting to me...” You chuckled softly, though it was more out of hollow irony than anything.

“And besides, it’s hard trying to help Sebastian when he only lets me tend to the disposables that end up here. Other than that, he doesn’t let me help him physically or mentally.”

You ran a hand through your hair, trying in vain to calm yourself or slow down the racing of your thoughts. You felt your breathing grow ragged, your hands shaking beyond your control as if they were reacting all on their own.

“It’s exhausting... I want to help him a little because I know the hell he’s dealing with, but I also have no idea what goes through his head, especially when he won’t tell me the full story.”

Your voice wavered, your teeth chattering as a tremor started to take over your body.

“He tells me I can’t help him when I can’t even help myself. I can handle my mess and his at the same time; I know I can.”

You could hear Painter’s voice saying something, but it didn’t register.

“I know I can do it, I’m fine. I wouldn’t get tired of hearing his complaints or thoughts.”

There was Painter’s voice again. What was he saying?

“I can handle it, I’M FINE—”

“You’re bleeding!”

Painter’s voice came through the old computer speakers so loudly you swore it sounded distorted.

You tasted something metallic on your lower lip, and your tongue quickly recognized the taste of blood when you licked it, realizing what it was.

You looked down at your hands, now stained red, with the indents of your nails pressing into your palms.

When you blinked, trying to focus on your surroundings, you noticed your eyelashes were wet, and your cheeks felt uncomfortably damp. You had been crying too.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Sorry.” You didn’t even know why you were apologizing or what for. You just felt the need to after putting poor Painter through this, letting him see you unraveling over your anxieties, showing him this sorry state.

“It’s okay... Just.. do you want to talk it over more calmly?” he asked, his words sounding a bit awkward as he wasn’t sure what to say or do.

You quickly shook your head, wiping your tears away with your sleeve. You braced your hands against the floor to stand, relying on it to steady you because your legs were still trembling. You didn’t trust yourself to get up without some support, given how shaky you still felt.

Before Painter could say anything else, you left as quickly as you could, trying to drown out the voices in your head blaming you for burdening him, for voicing your problems aloud. You didn’t deserve even his pity.

You were pathetic—worse than pitiful.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to show up at Sebastian’s shop, the place you called home.

You sprinted quickly into one of the rooms down the long hallway you’d been running through. Instinct drove you under the desk in the wide room, both hands clamped over your mouth and nose to stifle the sound of your heavy, panicked breathing. You needed to hide from this monster.

Scenes of the person you were escaping from replayed in your head like a film.

It was just another disposable who’d somehow made it this far while you’d been with Painter. You’d spotted him at a distance in a dark room before the voices over the speakers cut through the silence, alerting you and the disposable who was now only inches away from you.

“There’s another person inside the facility. They violated company regulations and are complicit with Z-13. Their elimination will yield twice the initial reward.” The HQ voice blared through the speakers, making you gasp when it mentioned your name.

You’d forgotten that some of the cameras still worked throughout the facility, likely monitoring the disposables and reporting on what was taking them down along the way.

The moment you took a step forward and your footfall echoed across the room, you felt a burning gaze on the back of your neck. Without daring to look back at the person behind you, you took off running, a prey fleeing from its hunter.

The sound of a missed gunshot made your blood run cold in an instant. You didn’t even want to ask how he got a weapon, but he had one—and you were completely defenseless.

That’s what brought you here, crouched under the desk, silently praying to God that, just this once, he would listen and spare you from this person.

You prayed to God, to Eyesfastion, hoping they’d appear out of pure chance and force him to look them in the eyes. Or for an Angler to come roaring through the rooms, Chainsmoker to slow his steps. Any miracle.

Of all the times you’d wanted to be six feet under, wished for death to just take you already, this time you didn’t want to go. No matter how often you’d begged for death to come, this time, you wanted to live.

You held your breath, clamping down on it entirely when the sound of firm footsteps filled the room where you hid.

Closer and closer.

The desk creaked as something leaned against it. He was mere inches away. You could hear his breathing and the clank of the gun as he set it on top of the desk.

Your shaking eyes drifted to the glass in front of you, showing a view of the vast, deep ocean no other human besides Urbanshade could ever witness at such depths. Due to your crouched, hidden position under the desk, you couldn’t see your own reflection in the glass, but you could see his. A sharp gasp escaped you when you saw the appearance of your hunter.

His gaze immediately dropped downward as your gasp echoed through the room. His hand swiftly gripped the gun before he moved around to the back of the desk.

Sebastian was tucking away documents and small DNA samples he found into the neoprene suit of the now-deceased expendable, also grabbing the unused batteries. He stored everything in the small pouches strapped along his tail.

When he finished organizing everything and made sure it was all in place, he started heading back to his tent, the quick thought of seeing you there to talk non-stop just to fill the ever-present silence. A humorous smile crossed his face; this time, he’d make sure to join the conversation.

The door indicator’s number flashed, crackling quickly, before the face of Painter appeared on the screen.

"SEBASTIAN."

The AI’s shout disoriented him for a couple of seconds, leaving him confused by its sudden appearance. Painter usually waited until Sebastian visited him in his usual location to relay any messages, so seeing him appear here and shout was odd.

"What’s going on? I’m doing inventory on the expendables, so you can tell me whatever you need later, you stupid—"

"Shut up, you filthy fish, and get to room 65. They’re in danger."

The mention of your name and that you were in danger ignited something inside him.

You had already mastered the dangers of this place, even if you still trembled with fear after an Angler encounter. What had stopped you now?

He didn’t take the time to respond to the AI, instead moving as fast as his instincts could carry him to the room number. He knew the place like the back of his hand and was only six rooms away—just a little more, and he’d be there.

He was greeted by a wide hallway and the stench of blood, sharply invading his senses and nostrils. The smell was sickening, but he could bear it for a few minutes—though this time, it felt disturbingly familiar.

The stench led him to a room where he immediately noticed blood-stained glass, crimson trails streaking downwards. The sight disgusted him more than anything else, for no clear reason.

His third hand moved to his three-barreled shotgun. Although he heard nothing, something told him that wasn’t a good sign.

His breath caught entirely when two bodies came into view, and he recognized yours immediately, even though he tried not to.

You were covered in blood, both your own and your attacker’s. Dried blood streamed from your nose, bruises becoming clear against the pallor of your skin. You had two gunshot wounds: one in your stomach and another in your leg.

Then he looked at your attacker.

The blood on the attacker’s face made it hard to see him clearly, but gray hair and a graying beard showed through wrinkles and lines that marked his features.

He had also been shot, but his wound was on the forehead, and there were a series of scratches on his neck, arms, and face—made with fierce aggression.

Sebastian could almost picture the possible scenario that led to all this.

A fleeting thought crossed his mind, wondering if your pulse might still be beating, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

He heard no breath, no desperate gasping for air. Nothing.

The silence terrified him; you were supposed to fill that silence with words, turn that "nothing" into "something."

Had your attacker enjoyed your suffering? Had he even regretted, at any moment, the shots he’d fired at you? Had he seen you lifeless and felt fear at his mistake? Would he have slept soundly knowing he’d killed you?

No.

No, he didn’t believe it.

He would have made him regret being alive. He would have killed him in a worse way than he killed you.

He would have made him swallow his own teeth, fingers, and scraps of skin while he was still alive. Being alive would have been its own torture.

More than anything, he wanted to avenge you, to have done something so that this repulsive creature hadn’t killed or tortured you, even if in some "stupid" way.

…

He needed you.

[cevansbrat0007]

Worthy of You

Summary: After being forced to confront his own demons, Ari begins to question whether or not he is worthy of you.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of War/Combat, References to PTSD, Night Terrors, Manhandling, Brief Depictions of Violence, Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Looking back, you’re not sure what it was that woke you. When you’d arrived at Ari’s place that evening you’d been bone tired, exhausted after a long day at the shop. You’d barely had enough energy to drag yourself into the shower before shutting off the lights and crawling under the covers. 

Ari had known you were tired. He’d been able to hear it in your voice when you’d spoken on the phone as you were locking up. Which has prompted your handsome Beast to order you to rest, under the assurance that he was more than capable of fending for himself for dinner.

So you’d taken him at his word and gone home to do just that. And since you’d suspected that he wouldn’t be home until late, you hadn’t felt the least bit guilty about passing out early. You’d been confident that he’d find his way into your bed eventually.

Just like he always did. 

By the time he actually joined you, you’d been fast asleep. You hadn’t so much as flinched when he’d wrapped one thick arm around your waist. Nor had you stirred when he’d dropped a gentle kiss on your forehead.

None of it had been enough to disturb you. Even now, you couldn’t quite put your finger on what exactly pulled you out of dreamland. You just knew you were awake. However, it’s the sound that comes next that spurs you into action. 

The whimper comes out soft, almost delicate. Barely above a whisper. And the moment it reaches your ears you realize that something is very, very wrong.   

Ari.

Now on high alert, you fling off the covers before pulling yourself up on your knees. Immediately you notice the stiffness throughout his body, his corded muscles straining in a way that seems almost unnatural.

“Baby.” You whisper, your hands hovering nervously over his chest. “Ari, baby, wake up!” 

But he doesn’t respond. His eyes never open. Instead he whimpers again, the noise coming from somewhere deep in his throat. It’s louder this time – sounding more pained, more mournful, than the last.

Unsure of what else to do, you go to cup his face with your hands, surprised to find it wet with tears. He cries out then, his big body jerking as if he’s trying to get away from something. 

Or someone.

“Ari!” You try again as you give into the urge to grab him by the shoulders and give him a good shake. “C’mon, honey – wake up! Please –”

What comes next happens so fast you barely have time to scream, let alone process the situation. All you know is that one second you were sitting up and now you’re laying flat on your back with Ari looming above you, both of his large hands wrapped around your throat. 

Too shocked to speak, your own hands immediately fly to his wrists, tugging hard. It earns you nothing.

As he gazes down at you, you can’t help but notice the way his normally bright blue eyes appear glassy, almost vacant. And that’s when you realize that you’re no longer dealing with the man you love. He is long gone, and in his place is someone you don’t recognize. 

“You’re safe, Ari.” You rasp, silently pleading for him to release you. “It’s just me. It’s your Bird.” You feel your eyes well up with tears when he doesn’t so much as blink. 

Heart pounding in your ears, you decide to focus on trying to slow down your breathing. You’d be of no use to either one of you if you allowed yourself to spiral down into a panic attack.   

“Please, Beast. You’re scarin’ me.” You croak, hoping that might resonate a little more. Right now you just needed to get him back. You could figure out the rest later. 

Thankfully, your words have an almost immediate effect. His grip on your neck loosens at the same time his head dips. A beat goes by before he looks at you again. But when he finally does his dazzling blue eyes are clear and unmuddled, letting you know that your man is home.  

And deep down, there’s a part of you that’s convinced that he had gone through hell and back just to get to you.

The feeling of relief flooding through you has your lips curving into a smile. Just in time for you to watch Ari recoil in horror once the reality of what he’s done sets-in. 

“Fuck!” 

The snarled curse has him scrambling off of you and launching himself out of the bed. He stares down at his hands, repeatedly clenching and unclenching his fists as he tries to piece together the events of the last few minutes. 

Once it all clicks into place, he looks utterly shattered. You had a broken man hovering a mere five feet away from you. And in a moment you were gonna do your damnedest to begin the process of putting him back together again.

Without thinking, you allow your fingers to brush along the slightly reddened flesh of your throat. The skin wasn’t tender, and you weren’t in any pain. Two very good things.

But when you open up your mouth to tell him that, he manages to beat you to the punch. 

“What did–?” Ari’s voice comes out low and hoarse. “Are you hurt?” He runs a trembling hand through his tousled brown locks. “Did I hurt you?” 

“No.” You whisper as you go to crawl your way over to him. 

“Liar.” Comes his angry reply. “I came to with my hands wrapped around your fuckin’ throat, baby. Jesus Christ, I coulda’ fuckin’...” He turns away from you with a mournful growl before slamming his fist into the wall hard enough to leave a dent. “M’ so fuckin’ sorry.” And then he does it again, creating another hole that was almost parallel to the first.  

No big deal. You’d just get him to fix it later. That’s why the good Lord invented spackle.

“I…” Feeling helpless, your hands clutch at the soft fabric of your duvet, silently wishing you both could just crawl back in bed and pretend like none of this ever happened. “Wait – wait. Where are you going?”

You snap back into reality once you realize your Bounty Hunter is now suddenly on the move. Snagging his pants he makes quick work of pulling them up his thick, hair covered legs before donning the t-shirt he’d initially kicked into the corner earlier in the night. 

Oh hell no. You were absolutely not about to let this man leave. Not like this. 

“Ari!” You call as you hustle after him, barely pausing long enough to throw on your robe. “Just where the hell are you going?” 

"Out!"

You take the steps two at a time, ignoring the chill of the hardwood floor against your bare feet. When you find him next, he’s perched on the arm of your living room sofa as he hurries to lace up his work boots. Your heart sinks, even as a fresh wave of dread churns in your belly.

All of this felt so wrong.

“I don’t want you to go.” Your voice sounds so tiny and fragile you hardly recognize it.

Everything was falling apart in front of your very eyes, and it seemed like there wasn’t a damned thing you could do to stop it.  

“You should.”  

“But I just told you that I don’t.” It’s impossible to miss the bitter edge creeping into his tone, but for now you would do your best to ignore it. “What I would like you to do is let me tend to those knuckles.” You go to reach for him, purposely keeping your movements slow and gentle. “Looks like you banged ‘em up real good.” It almost becomes too much when Ari recoils from your touch.

But then you remind yourself that you were dealing with a wounded animal. Which meant that the most important tool in your arsenal right now was patience.    

“How about I make us both some tea?” You try in an effort to keep your hands to yourself. “Something with lavender and chamomile?”

“Need my keys.” Ari mumbles as if you hadn’t just spoken. “Where’d I leave ‘em?” He stands up, instinctively patting the pockets of his jeans as he wracks his brain for answers. “Gotta go. Gotta go. Gotta go.” He drags a hand over his face as he lets out a frustrated groan.

And then it hits you. You’d just seen his keys sitting on your kitchen counter, next to your new glass cake dome. You had to get to them first.

“I’m gonna make us both some tea with a spritz of lemon and extra honey.” Spinning on your heel, you hastily amble out of the room, all the while trying to appear innocent. Unfortunately for you, your single-minded Beast is quick to follow. 

He was stubborn, you’d give him that. But then again, so were you. And tonight you were committed to doing everything in your power to keep his ass safe at home with you. Whether he liked it or not.    

Acting unbothered, you breeze your way into your kitchen, making an immediate beeline for the keys the moment you catch sight of them. As you get closer you hear him call you by your name. 

Not one of your nicknames – not Bird or Duchess. He uses your real name, which sounds oddly foreign coming from him. And it pisses you the fuck off. 

After all, he had never been one to give you space when you felt like running or flying, or whatever the hell he always liked to accuse you of doing whenever you felt uncomfortable. Your man always demanded that you stay to talk, fight, cry, or whatever the fuck you needed to do for the sake of your relationship. 

Well, now the shoe was on the other foot. And he was gonna wear that size 13 until the damn sole fell off. 

“Don’t you fucking do it, baby.” Ari snaps when he sees you snatch up his keys just before he can get to them. “Give ‘em here.” He angrily holds out his hand. “Now.”

“Nope.” The word tumbles out with a slight pop. 

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me!” Ari curses, slapping his heavy palm down on your countertop hard enough to make your cake dome rattle. “Why the fuck would you want me here right now? Especially after all the shit that just happened?” You wince when you hear your weird-sounding name again, but it doesn’t stop you from dropping the keys into the pocket of your robe for safekeeping.     

“Because I love you.” You tell him without missing a beat before turning to grab two mugs out of a nearby cabinet. “Which means I’m not letting you out that front door. And while I’m here to talk about your night terror whenever you’re ready, I’m really gonna need you to stop calling me by that name.”

“Huh?”

One glance over your shoulder lets you know that your words – maybe even all of them – had their intended effect. Which meant that you’d just scored yourself a direct hit. Hell yeah. 

“You okay there, sugar?” You tease as you busy yourself filling your kettle with water and placing it on the stove to heat. “Tell you what, I’ll even add a splash of brandy to yours. How does that sound?”

“But you just said…” Ari trails off, his big body shuddering as he all but forces air into his lungs.

“You mean that business about not using my government name?” You giggle, feeling freer than you ever have in recent memory. “That’s because I don’t know her. I go by Bird or Duchess. Heck, I’ll even settle for baby or sweetheart. Make sense?” You bat your lashes at him, delighting in his confusion. 

Squaring his broad shoulders, your man reaches for you. His hand makes it halfway before giving up, hanging suspended in the air. Which means it’s up to you to bridge the distance between your bodies.

Keeping your movements slow and easy, you gently capture his hand in yours. And then you lean in to press a soft, tender kiss to the inside of his wrist – your eyes never once leaving his. 

He’s quiet for a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “This isn’t how it was supposed to happen, Bird. I had a whole thing planned for us tomorrow to tell you…show you…everything. And just like that I fucked it all up.” 

“No.” You murmur, your heart threatening to break when you notice his eyes shining with tears. ”That wasn’t you, Ari. I know you were somewhere else, baby. Just like I know that you would never hurt me.”

“Never.” He agrees as a lone tear spills its way down his cheek. “But how can I even begin to earn you, to show you I’m worthy enough, when I’m so royally fucked up? I mean, tonight I almost –”

“Tonight you had a bad dream.” Needing more from him, you pull his head down to take his lips in a kiss. It takes a second for him to respond, but the moment your tongue begins to tease, begging him to let you in, he’s no longer able to resist your advances.

A small whimper escapes your throat as his eager mouth dominates your own, forcing you to take everything he’s willing to give you. And when he finally lets you up for air, you’re satisfied to see that you’re both more than a little out of breath. 

But even so, you’re still quick to slap his wandering hand away from your hip. Just in case he was still thinking about ditching you. 

“Bird.” Ari breathes, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I just wanna go clear my head for a bit, okay? I promise I’ll come back. If not tonight then in time for our date tomorrow. Deal?” Feeling desperate he holds up his pinky, only to be surprised when you swerve him in favor of removing the now whistling kettle off the hot burner. 

“Afraid not, my handsome Beast.” You set about fixing your tea the way you like. “Love you though I do, I have every reason to believe that that pinky has been compromised. Which means it’s no good for at least another five hours.” You shrug, adding a thimble brandy to both mugs.

“Why do–?” Your frustrated Bounty Hunter grunts. “You don’t have to keep saying that to me – that word “love”. I would never put any expectations on you, which was something I was actually planning to say tomorrow, or later today I guess, when I…" He lets out a defeated sigh. "When I showed you that I have what it takes to keep an amazing woman like you.”   

Grinning, you hand him his mug, grateful when he accepts it without complaint. “And we still have tomorrow – or rather, today. But Beast, I’m saying the words because I mean ‘em.” You cough, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’d been meaning to say them for a while now and…tonight seemed to be the night you really needed to hear it.”

“You can still take it back.” He tells you, dutifully shuffling his way back in the direction of your living room. “I’m giving you an out, baby.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want one.” You laugh, your confidence growing with each passing moment. Gently, Ari takes your mug and places it on the coffee table next to his before pulling you down on the couch next to him. 

Feeling bold, you wrap yourself around his large frame, holding him close. Meanwhile, his fingers stroke their way along the curve of your thigh, making you shiver. 

“So…are we just gonna sit and watch the sunrise then?” He asks as he allows you to hold his cup to his mouth so that he can take a sip of his tea. “Shit that’s good.”

“If you want. Or you can tell me about your nightmare. We can talk it out. Maybe figure out what triggered it, see if we might need to go Falcon Punch somebody. And then we can watch the sun rise.”

Now it’s his turn to smile. Ari buries his face in the curve of your throat, losing himself in your sweet scent that was all uniquely you. “You still gonna let me take you on that date tonight? Let me get a few things off my chest while I spoil you, pretty lady?” He nuzzles his nose against your own.

“You give me this morning and I’ll give you tonight.” You murmur, whispering your lips along his jaw. “Because you’re worth it. And there is nothing you could do or say to make me think otherwise.”

Because you loved him. And now that you’d fallen, there was no going back. So from here on out you were going to prove that you had what it took to one day be worthy of having a beautiful man like Ari Levinson in your corner.

One sunrise at a time.

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