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stxrsniolo · 12 days ago

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ㅤ ݁ ꉂ rough makeup sex with harsh leader!matt ᴖ ֽ ㅤᷭ

warnings explicit sexual content. anger and resentment. power dynamics. rough sex. combat and violence. emotional conflict. dubious consent. intense emotional scenes.

pairings: harsh leader!matt x fresh meat!reader (asks and requests about this pairing are open)

find more of this pairing here: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

y/n was finally having a moment to herself, her free time a rare commodity in the relentless schedule of the special agent training base. she was in her small, utilitarian room, trying to find some peace, when the door burst open. there stood matt, his presence commanding, his eyes burning with an intensity that was both familiar and unsettling.

"follow me," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument, the boston accent thick with authority. grudgingly, y/n complied, her steps heavy with the weight of her resentment, her heart still sore from the words and the harshness of the last training session.

matt led her to an area of the base designed for physical training, the floor covered in mats, surrounded by equipment for combat and conditioning, the air thick with the scent of rubber and sweat, the echoes of past exertions lingering.

"why am i here? wasn't humiliating me in front of everyone enough?" y/n spat out, her voice laced with pain and defiance.

matt didn't answer right away, his gaze softening for a moment before he masked it with his usual stern demeanor. "we're going to work on your combat skills," he said, though the truth was he wanted this moment alone with her, to touch her, perhaps even to make amends in his stubborn, twisted way.

y/n scoffed, her anger palpable. "i'm not your plaything to be jerked around whenever you feel like it."

he stepped closer, the tension between them electric. "then prove you're not just a plaything. show me what you've got," matt challenged, his voice low, a mix of provocation and something else, something he wouldn't admit.

the sparring started with y/n throwing herself into it, her movements fueled by her anger, her strikes aimed at matt with a personal vendetta.

she came at him with a ferocity that matched her inner turmoil, her fists flying, each hit a physical manifestation of her resentment while matt, for his part, allowed her hits, his body absorbing the blows, a part of him feeling he deserved this, another part finding the aggression strangely arousing. he blocked some, but let others land, her fists connecting with his chest, his arms, his face, each hit a release for her, each one stoking his own fire.

"you think this makes up for anything?!" she yelled, her punches fueled by her resentment, her sorrow, her frustration, landing a particularly hard punch to his jaw, making him grunt.

matt's patience snapped.

he countered with his own force, his training taking over, his fists finding her, not to hurt, but to engage, to push her further.

they grappled, their bodies close, the fight turning from a training session into something more personal, more primal.

y/n managed a kick to his side, her foot connecting with a thud, but matt wrapped his arms around her, bringing her down to the mat with him, the impact hard, their bodies rolling, struggling for dominance.

"answer me, you fucking asshole," she hissed, her breath hot, her eyes blazing with defiance as she tried to knee him, but he was quick, his leg pinning hers down.

matt's control was slipping, his own anger, his own desire, mixing into a dangerous cocktail when he pinned her wrists above her head, his body covering hers, his breath hot against her face. "no," he growled, "but this might."

his lips crashed against hers in a kiss that was all punishment and desire, rough, claiming. y/n struggled, her anger still blazing, but the heat of his body, the intensity of his kiss, began to melt her resistance.

"fuck you," she hissed between kisses, her hands now clawing at him, pulling him closer even as she fought against the desire he was forcing upon her.

matt didn't give her time to think, his hands already working on her clothes, his touch rough, possessive. he tore at her shirt, buttons flying, exposing her skin to the cool air of the training room, his fingers found the waistband of her pants, yanking them down, revealing her to him while his cock was getting harder, throbbing with a need that had been building since their confrontation, its length and girth heavy with desire, the head already slick with pre-cum.

"i'll fuck the anger out of you," he promised, his voice a dark whisper, his hand guiding his erection to her entrance.

he didn't bother with foreplay; this wasn't about tenderness; he entered her with a thrust that was all about domination, about making her feel his presence, his power.

his cock stretched her, the sensation overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure, her body adjusting to his size, each thrust was deep, brutal, his hips snapping against hers, his body covering hers completely, their sweat mingling on the mat.

"still angry?" he grunted, each movement a testament to his strength, his cock hitting that spot inside her that made her moan despite herself, her body betraying her with every shudder.

"yes," she gasped out, her voice a mix of defiance and ecstasy, her breasts heaving with each breath, her nipples hard from the friction of their bodies. her legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper, her body responding to the raw, primal need between them.

matt fucked her with abandon, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her onto him, the sounds of their bodies meeting loud in the empty training area. He was relentless, his cock sliding in and out of her, the slickness of her arousal coating him, each stroke stoking the fire within them both.

he grinned and watched her face, the mix of anger and pleasure, her body flush with exertion and arousal. when she came, it was with a cry that was as much rage as it was release, her body shuddering under him, her pussy clenching around his cock, milking him.

matt followed shortly after, his release a mix of relief and something akin to sorrow, his thrusts slowing as he filled her, their breaths mingling in the aftermath.

as they lay there, the sweat cooling on their skin, matt finally spoke, his voice softer now, the edge of his usual command gone. "i pushed you too hard, i’m sorry.”

🐦‍⬛ ㅤּㅤㅤ˻ㅤ whisper ㅤ˺ᅟ⠀ i appreciate the love shown through reposts, but let me be clear: my tales are not to be copied or adapted without a whisper to me first. my words are my treasure, and i guard them jealously.

my murder of crows: @courta13 @chrislilcumslvt @marrykisskilled @chrislova @sturnshood @inspiredangel @strnilolover @emely9274 @sturns-mermaid @blushsturns @ariieeesworld @pixie-sticks-are-good @luvjaeeee @sturnslutz

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writermuses · 10 months ago

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With a shrug, Graham nodded. "I've known you for how long now? I know your level of kitchen skills, Cookie." The light was back in his eyes just hearing her laugh. Still, it was hard for his own to reach his eyes because he was feeling awkward for letting his thoughts and emotions get the best of him. It wasn't even on Graham's radar that Brooke was thinking about him walking. "No, you're not stupid. I'm used to being on my feet. I'm just tired. Don't read into it like that."

Watching Brooke shuffling through her fridge and then flipping through her recipes had Graham's tortured heart in knots. He loved the domesticity of this agreement and hated himself for wanting it all the same. His friendship with her was so important and Graham had to remind himself that she didn't want him the same way he wanted here. "I've never had veggie pasta. Does that mean the noodles aren't actually noodles or that there are vegetables in the pasta?" He wasn't going to complain, he couldn't remember the last time he actually had vegetables. He moved to the candles and felt lost, scratching the back of his neck before looking at her and laughing nervously. "I have no idea what anything is. I may as well be assembling a bomb over here."

"I'll make food, if you want me to. I'm not that great of a cook though," she chuckled, then shook her head and waved her hand at him. "No, no, you've been on your feet all day, I'm stupid for even suggesting we walk." She felt extra guilty having him stand on his feet for another three hours at the studio, his feet must be in agony and he wasn't showing it. He didn't say anything. Why didn't he say anything? He could have asked for a chair at the studio? She would have asked for one for him. "You should sit, let your feet up. I'll make us something." She hadn't been in the mood to cook, but maybe this would be good. She could distract herself with a recipe, instead of think about the heated tension she was feeling for him. Looking in her fridge she saw what she had, rotating through a few recipes in her head she'd decided. "How does Veggie Pasta sound?" she asked him, with a smile as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail. She reached for pre-heat the oven and set a dial for the stove top. "Everything candle related is in the corner if you want to take a peak." she suggested, feeling the need to give him something to do.

#loveofcharacters #ref: graham x brooke #thread: graham x brooke 02

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doliacuddles · 8 months ago

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SHADOWS OF A MARRIAGE.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖵𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖯𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌.

𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇! 𝖠𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

❝In our gazes lie the secrets of a love that never had its chance, trapped in a silence that screams the tragedy of what could have been and never was.❞

The clock struck six in the evening when Alastor's familiar footsteps echoed down the hallway, sending a shiver down your spine. You hastily finished setting the dinner table. Today, your parents were visiting, and although Alastor's presence always made you nervous, you knew he would maintain appearances in front of them as the charming gentleman everyone believed him to be.

The door opened with a soft creak, revealing Alastor entering with his characteristic elegance. His brown eyes met yours, though the smile on his lips didn't reach his eyes.

"Dear, is everything ready for dinner?" he asked, his melodic voice carrying a subtle authority.

"Yes, almost everything is ready," you replied, feeling the tension grip your shoulders. You knew every detail had to be perfect.

"Good," murmured Alastor, approaching you with determined steps. His hand rested on your waist with a firm but controlled pressure, forcing you to look up at him. "Remember to behave, I don't want to disappoint your parents," he added in a low tone, his eyes gleaming with an intensity that made you swallow hard.

You nodded carefully, trying to hide the nerves coursing through you. You knew any slip-up could provoke his displeasure, and that was something you couldn't afford.

A few minutes later, the sound of a car pulling up in front of the house resonated like a silent announcement of your parents' arrival. Alastor released his grip on you with a speed that surprised you, instantly transforming into the charming and attentive man your parents knew. With a warm smile lighting up his face, he opened the door with a courteous bow.

"Welcome, sirs!" he exclaimed with a soft and cordial tone, extending a hand to help your mother out of the car. "It is a true pleasure to have you here tonight."

Your parents responded with radiant smiles and gestures of gratitude for the warm reception. They entered the house, admiring its beauty and warmth, while Alastor maintained a friendly and sociable demeanor, as if he were the perfect host.

During dinner, words flowed gracefully and easily among the diners. Alastor made an effort to capture your parents' attention, weaving fascinating stories about his work and achievements, ensuring they felt comfortable and entertained. Occasionally, his eyes met yours, his gaze soft and welcoming before your parents, but you knew that behind that mask of cordiality lay something darker and more enigmatic.

The atmosphere, though seemingly light and jovial, was permeated with a subtle tension hidden beneath the surface of kind words and forced laughter. Every comment from your parents became a risky balancing act, fearing that any misstep could reveal the true nature of your marriage.

When dinner ended, your parents retired to the living room, taking the conversation with Alastor with them. You took advantage of that brief respite to clear the table and wash the dishes, seeking a few minutes of peace away from his oppressive presence. However, the silence didn't last long before you felt his closeness behind you.

"Come to the living room, dear," his voice resonated with an authority that brooked no argument. "Our guests wish to enjoy your company as well."

You took a deep breath to calm your racing heart and nodded, drying your nervous hands before following Alastor back to the living room. Upon arrival, you were surprised to feel his arm firmly around you and the softness of his lips on yours, a gesture that left you breathless with its unexpected intimacy.

A gentle applause from your parents filled the space, delighted by the display of affection. "It's wonderful to see you so happy," your mother commented with a satisfied smile.

Alastor kept his arm around your shoulders, caressing you tenderly as he responded with his usual elegance, "We strive to keep the flame of love alive, don't we, dear?"

You forced a smile, feeling his hand on your shoulder weigh like a constant reminder of his control over you. "Yes, of course," you managed to say, while your heart still raced in your chest.

The atmosphere changed subtly after your parents expressed their desire to see the family grow. The talk became lighter and more relaxed, but a shadow of tension lingered in the background.

Then, your father, with a knowing smile, mentioned something that made your shoulders tense involuntarily.

"So, Alastor," he began, his voice carrying a note of expectation, "have you considered expanding the family? We would love to have grandchildren soon."

The silence that followed was palpable, filling the space with an almost imperceptible uncertainty. Alastor, with his characteristic ability to handle delicate situations, responded without losing his composure.

"Well, it's a topic we've discussed," he said calmly, his measured tone revealing calculated caution. "But we believe it's important to take our time to ensure everything is in place before taking that step."

Your mother nodded, but couldn't hide the bright curiosity in her eyes. "Of course, of course. But you can't wait too long, right? It would be wonderful to have little ones running around here."

Alastor maintained his smile, but you noticed a subtle tension in his jaw as he responded diplomatically, though his words revealed an inner reluctance.

"Of course," he said, squeezing your shoulder slightly as a gesture of support. "We want the best for our future, and when the right time comes, we will be delighted to share that joy with you."

Your parents seemed to accept his response, but the tension in the air persisted, like a small knot in the stomach that refused to untangle. The conversation drifted to more trivial topics, but deep down you knew the subject of children would arise again in the future, raising deeper and more emotional questions about the future of your relationship with Alastor.

When the night finally faded and your parents said their goodbyes, the atmosphere in the house changed dramatically. The warmth and kindness that had filled the air were replaced by the cold reality of your relationship.

"It was a magnificent performance, don't you think?" murmured Alastor, his voice now cold and calculating. "I hope you enjoyed seeing them again. I certainly did."

With deliberate steps, Alastor retreated to his study, leaving you alone in the growing darkness of the living room. You knew the facade had to be maintained, at least for now, until you found a way to escape his control. But at that moment, your only option was to keep going, even though each step was a test of emotional endurance, just to avoid disappointing everyone involved.

The night fell like a dark mantle over the house, enveloping it in a tense and almost palpable calm. Alastor and you retired to your respective beds, as usual, each lost in your own thoughts. The room was bathed in a twilight barely broken by the silvery light of the moon filtering through the partially open curtains. The silence, dense and oppressive, filled the space, charged with unspoken emotions and latent tensions.

You were on the verge of sleep when Alastor's voice resonated in the stillness, breaking the delicate balance of the night.

"Do you think my mother would have wanted me to have children?" he asked, his tone unusually soft and reflective, as if exploring unknown territories within himself.

The question left you stunned, a lump forming in your throat as you struggled to find an appropriate answer. You feared opening the door to a conversation that could reveal more than you were willing to face. You opted for silence, pretending to be asleep in an attempt to hide your own emotions. You controlled your breathing, trying to make it appear calm and even, although inside, your heart was pounding, reflecting the uncertainty filling your mind.

However, you could feel Alastor's gaze piercing your back, intense and penetrating, as if trying to unravel every thought crossing your mind. The weight of his gaze was overwhelming, a weight that oppressed you and made you feel vulnerable in the darkness of the room. Every second that passed under his scrutiny seemed an eternity, as if time had stopped only to increase the tension between the two of you.

Finally, you sensed a change in the atmosphere when Alastor moved in his bed, his attention apparently diverted to some invisible point in the distance. The silence returned forcefully, enveloping the room in a tense stillness. Though his words no longer filled the space, the question he had left hanging in the air resonated in your mind like a persistent echo.

You knew that question was not just a passing curiosity; it was an open window to something deeper and possibly darker within Alastor. The mere fact that he mentioned his mother, a figure he rarely spoke of, added a layer of complexity and mystery to the situation.

You longed for mental peace, but doubts and fears continued their incessant dance in your mind. What did that question really imply? Was it a sign of some change in Alastor? Or was it just another ruse to keep you on edge, never allowing you to truly know his thoughts?

Finally, exhaustion overcame your worries. Slowly, you let yourself be carried away by sleep, though the uncertainty remained latent in the depths of your being.

Intellectual property of @doliacuddles.

𝖳𝖺𝗀𝗌; @seraphiccharlie @catticora @verosikavibes @mo-0-o @alastorthirsty @its-a-dam-blue-brick @speedycoffeedelight

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor

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stvharrngton · 1 year ago

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don’t leave me hangin’ on the telephone

a/n: just a lil somethin somethin i wrote inspired by a certain blondie song :^)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, phone sex, masturbation (both f and m), dirty talk, friends to lovers sorta, hint of perv!steve if you squint

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @nix-rose

Your back hit your bed with a quiet thud, your clothes still stuck to your body, one shoe off, one shoe on. The bottle of wine, or two, you shared with Nancy sounded like a great idea at the time but now the room was spinning and your skin was buzzing, it seemed less so.

Groaning, you managed to get your other shoe off, downing half the glass of water you’d left on your nightstand. You glanced at the red numbers on your alarm clock, 12:02 they read, and then at the phone on the table.

Wine always had you like this. A little needy, a little desperate. Hot under the collar and skin clammy, usually fixed with a cold shower or a hand shoved down your panties.

You took your bottom lip between your teeth, toying with the flesh as the scenario you imagined swirled around your brain. He’d been on your mind all night, in fact, he was never off your mind. A crush on your best friend that he was totally oblivious to.

“Fuck it,” you sighed, picking up the phone and dialling the number you had memorised long ago. It rang out a couple times, a part of you hoped that he wouldn’t pick up but another part of you hoped he really fucking did.

“Hello?”

Your heart was in your throat as the person on the end of the line answered, their voice gravelly and rough as if they’d just woken up.

“Hi, Stevie,” you whispered as innocently as you could. Fingers curling around the phone cord as you try your best to remain calm.

“What time is it, is everything okay?” your heart swooned at the quick change of tone in his voice, the panic evident. Steve knew you were hanging out with Nancy tonight and there would be alcohol involved, he just hoped you hadn’t gotten yourself into any trouble.

“A little after midnight,” you replied, your fingers toying with the strap on your top, thighs squeezing together at the mere sound of Steve’s voice on the other end, “and I’m okay, just wanted to hear your voice s’all.”

Ouch, subtlety was never your thing when tipsy. You could only imagine the look on Steve’s face in the dark of his bedroom, hair still full of sleep, lips soft and pink, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” You could hear the cockyness clear in his voice, the sound making you gnaw on your bottom lip out of arousal.

“No reason.” You lied. There was a reason, a reason that you hoped Steve would be able to pick up on so you wouldn’t have to utter the words yourself. Something told you that you were both on the same page.

Steve thought he was dreaming when he answered the phone and you were on the other line, voice sweet like saccharine. Truth be told you were all Steve thought about. His gaze follows you whenever you aren't looking, thoughts circling his mind about how his life would be ten times better if you were his girl. Innocence interrupted by impure dreams of how good you would look bouncing on his cock whenever you would wear that skimpy red two piece by his pool, or that skirt was a little too short.

“I’ll just hang up then if you won’t tell me, sweetheart.” Steve teased.

“No!” you cried, internally closing in on yourself at how desperate you sounded, “No, please don’t go.” Your fingers were now teasing the waistband of your shorts, your need to keep Steve on the line ever present.

Steve chuckled on the other end, hushing you as you got yourself worked up. “Fine, fine,” he started, “but you gotta give me something here, love.”

You groaned, cursing as you hoped he wouldn’t actually make you say it. “Just keep talking, please?” you asked, fluttering your lashes wishing he could see, “I just need to–” you cut yourself off, preserving your dignity.

Steve played along happily, engaging in small talk until he could hear the quiet breaths and subtle groans coming from the end of the line, “Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” he blurted out.

You could only respond with a small moan, your fingers now situated in your panties, your index finger teasing your throbbing clit. Your eyes shot open as soon as the noise left your mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in total embarrassment.

“Fuck,” Steve whispered under his breath, “are you touching yourself, pretty girl?” he cooed, his attention fully on the sounds you were making on the other end of the line.

“No, I–” your voice quivered, “you think I’m pretty?” you asked innocently, Steve’s words suddenly registering in your foggy brain.

Steve chuckled, running a hand through his messy bed hair, “I do, yeah,” you could hear his breath become a little heavier, a little more shaky, “but I’d think you were a whole lot prettier if your hand was in those panties.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, your clit throbbing beneath your fingers. All you could hear was your racing heart beat, all the blood rushing to the tips of your ears. Steve’s voice rang in your ears when he spoke up again.

“You still there, babe?” He asked, minor concern mixed with self assuredness lacing his voice.

“I’m still here, Stevie,” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you.

“Good girl,” he cooed, “gonna tell me what you’ve been thinkin’ about?” he asked, his own palm running down his chest now, fingers sitting pretty at the waistband of his boxers.

You considered not answering, considered telling him some lie that somehow ended up with your fingers playing with your pussy to the sound of Steve’s voice, but fuck it, you were too far gone.

“Y-you.” Your voice was shaky, full of adrenaline and wracked with nerves. You squeezed your eyes shut as you waited for his response, your thighs clenching as your clit throbbed in anticipation.

“Yeah?” he questioned, “What about me?”

You sighed in response, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. You cursed Steve at the boldness of his question and you knew he would pull the answer from you one way or another. On the other hand your head was too fuzzy and all you could think about was the tension in your lower stomach and Steve.

“Your fingers.” you breathed, fingers now circling your clit once more.

“Oh yeah?” Steve chuckled, “What about my fingers, pretty girl?”

The pet name made you swoon and your heart beat faster, “How good they’d feel in my pussy,” you whispered down the phone. You were now long past caring about any feelings of embarrassment or preserving any dignity.

You heard Steve mumble out a curse on the other end of the line before he spoke again, “Mm, I bet they would. Why don’t you take your fingers and pretend they’re mine for a minute, hm?”

“Fuck,” you whined as your fingers moved further south, circling your entrance before you plunged a single finger into your cunt. You breathed a sigh of relief at the feeling, a sound that went straight to Steve’s cock.

The boy had his fingers wrapped around his length now, softly tugging as his lips parted, praying to God that this was real and wasn’t some sort of cruel dream. He had the girl of his dreams moaning and whimpering on the end of the phone line, Steve swore he had died and gone to Heaven.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He cooed, his voice sticky sweet and a sexy kind of patronising.

“Y-yes,” you moaned, trying your best to curl your finger like you imagined Steve would, “but it would feel better if it was the real thing.”

“I’m sure it would, honey,” you heard Steve mumble, before hearing the sound of him clearly spitting into the palm of his hand rang loud in your ear, the sound going straight to your core, your arousal coating your fingers and leaking down onto the sheets, “and I’ll give you the real thing, real soon, I promise, but can you do one thing for me?”

Your fingers slowed as your eyebrows pinched together before you stuttered out, “Yes, Steve, I’ll do anything.”

Steve wished you could see the smirk on his face at your response, his fingers still wrapped firmly around his aching cock as his spoke, “Wanna grab that flesh coloured toy I know you keep in your bottom drawer and fuck yourself with it f’me?”

You gasped at his request, your movements all but stopping in their tracks. You wracked your brain as to how he would know what you kept in that drawer but you were all but stumped. The silence on your end of the line had Steve wondering if he’d crossed a line and taken it too far but he couldn’t help himself.

Truth is, he’d seen the silicone length, complete with veins, tucked away when you’d left the drawer open accidentally when you’d excused yourself to the bathroom a month or so ago. And Steve found it simply impossible to get the image of you filling yourself up with the toy out of his mind.

“Is that okay?” Steve asked, bottom lip held firmly between his teeth now. Heat rising to his cheeks at the thought of being rejected. He could hear you moving and rustling at the other end, the anticipation making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His heart was racing, his hands growing clammy. Saliva thick in his mouth as his stomach churned with nerves.

You settled back against your plump pillows with the dildo in hand, holding the phone to your ear once more. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you stared at the toy, “I have it.” you squeaked out, feeling yourself get wetter by the second.

“Oh, that’s a good girl,” Steve purred, his fist beginning to pump at his cock once more, “now can you suck on it a little? Get it nice and wet f’me, baby.”

You mumbled a little mhm down the phone and Steve could only imagine what you looked like with, could only dream about what you would like with his own cock in your mouth, bright eyes blinking up at him and spit dripping down your chin. Fuck, what Steve wouldn’t give to see that.

You whined down the receiver as your hand was preoccupied, leaving you to only be able to squeeze your thighs together. The sound of you sucking and slurping on the silicone cock made Steve impossibly harder, his cock now aching and throbbing, the tip angry and leaking precum.

Steve’s jaw went slack at the sound of the dildo hitting the back of your throat, gagging on the toy, a string of spit still attached to the thing as you pulled it from your mouth. You breathed heavy down the line as you regained your composure.

“Christ,” Steve groaned, his stomach tensing as he squeezing his eyes shut, “why don’t you stretch out that little hole for me?”

You gulped at his words, teasing yourself with the toy like you usually did. Letting the tip of the dildo brush over your clit a couple times before you pushed the head into your entrance, wincing at the sweet little stretch it created. You moaned loudly once you sunk the toy a quarter of the way in, moving it in and out slowly.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve cooed, “can you go a little faster for me? Wanna hear how wet that pretty little pussy is.”

“Fuck, Steve,” you moaned before obeying his wishes, speeding up your movements, fucking the dildo in and out of your cunt faster now. In a deliberate attempt to tease the boy, get him real riled up, you pulled on the phone, stretching the cord until the receiver was closer to the apex of your thighs.

The loud sound of the wet slap of your pussy as you fucked yourself with the toy boomed over the line and Steve reacted as expected. Hand tugging on his cock faster now, his feet firmly planted on his mattress as he bucked his hips up into his hand, his breath getting heavier and his moans getting louder.

You brought the phone back to your ear so you could moan out the boy’s name, “Oh, Steve,” you whimpered, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten.

“You’re doing so well, honey, fuck–” Steve groaned, “taking that cock so well, huh? Can’t wait to see you take the real thing, shit, bet that pussy’s just the sweetest little thing, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, yeah, Stevie,” you whined, bucking your hips to match the movements of the toy, “wish you were here. Need your cock so bad.”

Steve wasn’t even here and you were already so fucked out, so close to your orgasm, one you knew was going to wipe you out. The sound of his strained voice over the line, his unruly and raspy moans were driving you insane.

“Don’t worry pretty girl,” he cooed, “you’ll get it real soon, I’ll fuck you real good, nice and deep. I bet that’s how you like it, hm?”

Once Steve opened his mouth the words wouldn’t stop. There was no going back now, no hiding any feelings, no sparing himself of any embarrassment. The poor boy was drunk on you, drunk on the sweet little whines and whimpers that found their way down the phone receiver.

“It is, yes, fuck, it is,” you cried, “I need to cum, Steve, please?” You dropped your grip on the toy, your fingers resuming their circles on your clit, your movements becoming faster, “Oh, please can I cum?”

“Fucking hell,” Steve groaned, his own orgasm around the corner, “yeah, go on baby, cum for me.”

The boy’s words pushed you over the edge, your legs shaking as you writhed on the bed. Your pussy fluttered as you came, moaning Steve’s name down the receiver like a song, the sweetest melody that Steve had ever heard.

“That’s my good girl, does that feel good?” Steve’s palm was slick with his own spit as it was wrapped tightly around his cock, pumping his fist harder and faster. Steve moaned loudly as you rode out your high, his own climax a stroke of his cock away.

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, toes curling into the sheets as he came, painting his stomach with ropes of hot cum. Babbling words of praise and incoherent moans into the phone, followed by heavy breaths.

The line went quiet for a beat, nothing to be heard but the both of you catching your breaths and regaining your composure. Your head became clear now, no longer tipsy, no longer desperate, suddenly realising what had just happened. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you went to speak, before Steve cut you off.

“I think I owe you a real date after that,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “pick you up at 7?”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington blurb #steve Harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfiction #k.fic

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izadorable · 2 years ago

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Brooke had a point. Why fish in a small and smelly pond when there were so many better alternatives in New York. "Okay lead the way." She loved that Brooke was taking charge. In the beginning it was always her leading. Brooke was really starting to grow and flourish on the Westside. It was beautiful to see. Once inside, she wrapped her arms around Brooke's shoulders from behind and leaned into her. The frat house was shameless. Everything was turned upside down and there were people fucking on the couch and in the kitchen. "You mean Kevin?" She hasn't seen him in a couple of days because he got into an altercation with River, but now River could rot in hell for calling her a whore. "Kevin is trouble, girl. His friends are no better." But she supposed that was the exciting part wasn't it? Therefore she shot Kevin a quick text. He replied within seconds saying he'll come pick them up with his friend Romeo. "Apparently he's with his friend Rome. I did some digging and found his insta. I can tell them forget it if you don't think he's hot. Personally I would fuck him."

"Beer pong?" She gets they're at a frat party but come on, ew. "The last thing I want is to breathe in someone else's beer breath." The more she thought about it, and the more she looked around, the more she noticed how slim their pickings actually are. "As fun as that sounds, I've got a better idea." Brooke grabbed both of Isadora's hands and led her through the living room. "Wanna get out of here and go someplace else? Surely, there's gotta be something better to do on a Friday night. What about your friend? The one you were caught fucking a week ago. Does he have any hot friends?"

#( brooke & isa ) 02 #broobie

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dc-megatournament · 2 months ago

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A Master List of fighters in the “Batman vs Everyone” tournament so far

If a character isn't listed here, they haven't been submitted.

List of the Fights Already Posted w/Results (in Alphabetical Order)

Red = Lost fight Against Batman

Green = Won fight Against Batman

Blue = a third option was taken

Adam West Batman =

Amazing Man/Will Everett = Lost

Ambush Bug/Irwin Schwab = Lost

Amy Rose = Won

Angus MacGyver = Lost

Animal Man/Buddy Baker = Lost

Ant-Man/Hank Pym = Lost

Aquaman/Arthur Curry = Lost

Arsenal/Roy Harper = Lost

Atom Smasher/Albert Rothstein = Lost

Avatar Aang = Third option; Bruce attempts to adopt Aang

Azrael/Jean Paul Valley = Lost

Aztek/Uno = Lost

Baked Beans = Won

Barbie = Won

Batgirl/Cassandra Cain = Won

Batman Beyond/Terry McGinnis = Lost

Batwing/David Zavimbe = Lost

Batwoman/Kate Kane = Lost

Beast/Hank McCoy = Lost

Beetlejuice = Lost

Ben Tennyson = Lost

Big Barda/Barda Free = Won

Big Hero 6 = Lost

Black Canary/Dinah Laurel Lance = Lost

Black Cat/Felicia Hardy = Lost

Black Lightning/Jefferson Pierce = Lost

Black Orchid/Susan Linden = Lost

Black Panther/T’Challa = Won

Blade/Eric Brooks = Lost

Blue Beetle/Jaime Reyes = Lost

Blue Beetle/Ted Kord = Lost

Blue Devil/Dan Cassidy = Lost

Booster Gold/Michael Jon Carter = Lost

Brody Foxx =

Bucky Barnes = Lost

Buffy Summers = Won

Bugs Bunny = Won

Captain America/Sam Wilson = Lost

Captain America/Steve Rogers = Lost

Captain Atom/Nathaniel Adam = Lost

Captain Cold/Leonard Snart = Lost

Captain Jack Sparrow = Lost

Captain Marvel/Billy Batson = Won

Captain Marvel/Carol Danvers = Lost

Cassie Hack = Lost

Catwoman/Selina Kyle = Third Option; They make out instead

Citizen Steel/Nathan Heywood = Lost

Cosmo and Wanda = Won

Crazy Jane =

Cyblade/Dominique Thiebaut = Lost

Cyborg/Victor Stone = Lost

Cyclops =

Danny Phantom =

Darwin/Armando Muñoz = Lost

Deadman/Boston Brand = Lost

Deku/Izuku Midoriya = Lost, Gains a father through Batman

Detective Chimp/Bobo T. Chimpanzee = Lost

Doctor Doom/Victor Von Doom = Won

Doctor Fate/Kent Nelson = Won

Doctor Fate/Khalid Nassour = Lost

Doctor Fate/Linda Strauss = Lost

Doctor Light/Kimiyo Hoshi = Lost

Dolly Parton =

Donald Duck = Won

Dr. Mid Nite/Charles McNider = Lost

Dracula (Castlevania) = Lost

Echo/Maya Lopez = Lost

Eda Clawthorne = Lost

Ed Dillinger =

Elektra Natchios = Lost

Elongated Man/Ralph Dibny = Lost

Elric of Melninbone =

Elsa = Lost

Elsa Bloodstone =

Emma Frost = Won

Enchantress/June Moone = Lost

Etrigan/Jason Blood = Lost

Eva-02 =

Ezio Auditore =

Finn & Jake = Won

Fire/Beatriz da Costa = Lost

Firestar =

Firestorm/Jason Rusch = Lost

Firestorm/Ronnie Raymond = Lost

Gabby Kinney =

Ghost Rider/Johnny Blaze = Lost

Ghoulia Yelps =

Godiva/Dorcas Leigh = Lost

Godzilla = Won

Goku = Won

Green Arrow/Connor Hawke = Lost

Green Arrow/Oliver Queen = Lost

Green Goblin/Norman Osborn = Lost

Green Lantern/Guy Gardner = Lost

Green Lantern/Hal Jordan =

Green Lantern/Jessica Cruz = Lost

Green Lantern/John Stewart = Lost

Green Lantern/Kyle Rayner = Won

Green Lantern/Simon Baz = Lost

Grumpy Bear =

Gundam Aerial = Lost

Gwen Tennyson = Lost

Gypsy/Cynthia Reynolds = Lost

Hatsune Miku = Won

Hawkgirl/Kendra Saunders = Lost

Hawkman/Katar Hol/Carter Hall = Lost

Hawkwoman/Shayera Hol/Shiera Hall = Lost

Heather (TDI) = Won

Hellboy = Lost

Hello Kitty = Won

Hua Cheng = Lost

Hulk/Bruce Banner = Lost

Human Torch/Johnny Storm = Lost

Huntress/Helena Bertinelli = Lost

Invincible/Mark Grayson = Lost

Invisible Woman/Sue Storm = Lost

Iron Man/Tony Stark = Lost

Jade/Jennifer-Lynn Hayden = Lost

Jar Jar Binks = Lost

Jenny Wakeman/XJ-9 = Lost

Jerry (Tom & Jerry) = Won

Jesse Quick/Jessie Chambers = Lost

Jessica Jones = Lost

Jim Gordon = Lost

John Constantine = Lost

John Wick = Won

Joker (Persona 2) =

Katara =

Katana/Tatsu Yamashiro = Lost

Katsuki Bakugou = Lost

Kim Possible = Won

Kirby = Won

Ladybug/Marinette Dupain-Cheng & Cat Noir/Adrien Agreste = Lost

Legion =

Light Yagami = Lost

Link =

Lobo = Lost

Luke Cage = Lost

Luke Skywalker = Lost

Madame Mirage/Angela Temple = Lost

Madame Xanadu = Lost

Magik/Illyana Rasputin = Won

Man-Bat/Dr. Robert Kirkland Langstrom = Lost

Manhunter/Kate Spencer = Lost

Mariah Carey = Won

Mario & Luigi = Won

Martian Manhunter/J’onn J’onnz = Lost

Mary Poppins =

Maxima = Lost

Max Tennyson =

May Chang =

Megatron = Lost

Metamorpho/Rex Mason = Lost

Mickey Mouse =

Mighty Morphin Power Rangers = Lost

Mister Miracle/Scott Free = Lost

Mizu = Lost

Mon-El/Lar Gand = Lost

Monkey D Luffy = Won

Moon Knight/Marc Spector = Lost

Mr Rogers = third option; convinced Bruce to go to therapy

Mr Fantastic/Reed Richards = Lost

Ms Marvel/Kamala Khan = Lost

Mystery Inc (Fred, Daphne, Velma, Shaggy, Scooby) = Won

Naruto Uzamaki = Lost

Nightcrawler =

Nightshade/Eve Eden = Lost

Nightwing/Dick Grayson = Won

Nimona = Won

Oracle/Barbara Gordon = Won

Orion = Lost

Percy Jackson = Won

Phantom Stranger = Lost

Phineas & Ferb = third option; Batman hires P & F

Pikachu = Won

Pink Panther = Won

Plastic Man/Patrick "Eel" O'Brian = Lost

Powergirl/Kara Zor L/Karen Starr = Lost

Powerhouse/Naomi McDuffie = Lost

Power Puff Girls = Third Option; Batman recruits the PPG

Queen Hippolyta = Won

Raven = Won

Red Hood/Jason Todd = Won

Red Tornado/Ulthoon = Lost

Regina George = Won

Rick Grimes = Lost

Robin/Damian Wayne = Lost

Robin/Tim Drake = Lost

Rocket Red/Dmitri Pushkin = Lost

Rocket Red/Gavril Ivanovich = Lost

Rogue/Anna Marie LeBeau = Won

Sailor Moon/Usagi Tsukino = Won

Saitama = Won

Sally Jackson = Won

Sanderson Sisters (Winifred, Mary, Sarah) = Lost

Sara Pezzini = Lost

Shade, the Changing Man/Rac Shade = Lost

Sharon Carter = Lost

She-Hulk/Jennifer Walters = Lost

Shen Qingqiu = Lost

She-Ra/Adora = Won

Shredder =

Slenderman =

Snoopy & Woodstock = Won

Sogeking/Usopp = Won

Sokka =

Sonic the Hedgehog = Won

Spawn/Al Simmons = Lost

Spider-Man/Miles Morales = Lost

Spider-Man/Peter Parker = Won

Spider Woman/Jessica Drew = Lost

Spoiler/Stephanie Brown = Won

Squirrel Girl/ Doreen Green = Won

Stan Pines =

Star Butterfly = Lost

Starfire/Koriand’r = Won

Starman/Mikaal Tomas = Lost

Star Sapphire/Carol Ferris = Lost

Steel/John Henry Irons =

Steven Universe = Third option; Batman attempted to adopt Steven

Stitch/Experiment 626 = Won

Storm/Ororo Munroe = Won

Strawberry Shortcake = Won

Supergirl/Kara Danvers/Kara Zor-El = Won

Superman/Clark Kent/Kal El = Won

Taylor Swift =

Terezi Pyrope = Lost

The Atom/Ray Palmer = Lost

The Atom/Ryan Choi = Lost

The Bride/Beatrix Kiddo = Lost

The Crow/Eric Draven = Lost

The Cullens (Carlisle, Esme, Edward, Jasper, Rosalie, Alice, Emmett) = Lost

The Darkness/Jackie Estacado = Lost

The Doctor = Third Option; Bruce becomes The Doctor's companion

The Flash/Jay Garrick = Lost

The Flash/Wally West Lost

The Punisher/Frank Castle = Lost

The Question/Renee Montoya = Lost

The Signal/Duke Thomas = Won

The Warner Siblings = Won

Thor = Lost

Tigress/Artemis Crock = Lost

TMNT = Lost

Tom Cruise =

Toph Beifong = Won

Troia/Donna Troy = Won

Tyson (Percy Jackson) =

Uncle Iroh = Won

Vampirella = Lost

Vibe/Cisco Ramon = Lost

Vixen/Mari McCabe = Lost

Walter White = Lost

Wasp/Janet Van Dyne = Lost

Winry Rockbell =

Wei Wuxian =

Wolverine/James “Logan” Howlett = Won

Wolverine/X-23/Laura Kinney = Won

Wonder Woman/Diana Prince = Won

Wonder Woman/Nubia = Won

Word Girl/Becky Botsford = Won

Xie Lian = Lost

Yami Yugi = Lost

Zheng Shang-Chi = Lost

Fights That Have Yet to Be Posted (also in Alphabetical Order)

Alfred Pennyworth

Alphonse Elric

Amadeus Cho

Anomalocaris canadensis

Andros (Power Rangers)

Annabeth Chase

Arceus

Artemis

Baldi

Batman/Jace Fox

Batwing/Luke Fox

Bill Cipher

Bingo Heeler

Black Widow/Natasha Romanoff

Bluebird/Harper Row

Bluey Heeler

Captain Kirk

Crazy Jane

Cure Flora

Cybersix

Daredevil/Matt Murdock

Darth Vader

Dazai Osamu

Duck (Princess Tutu)

Duolingo Owl

Edward Elric

Element Woman/Emily Sung

Eliot Spencer

Ellie (TLoU)

Elon Musk

Emu Otari

Flamebird/Bette Kane

Ford Pines

Geo-Force/Brion Markov

Giovanni Zatara

Hawkeye/Clint Barton

Ice/Tora Olafsdotter

Iceman/Bobby Drake

Ichigo Kurosaki

Inuyasha

Jean Grey

Jenny Sparks

Joe Hendry

Joel Miller (TLoU)

John Egbert

Joker - Persona 5

Julio Richter

Jubilee/Jubilation Lee

Kazuma Kiryu

Kisuke Urahara

Kuchipatchi

Lan Wangji

Lieutenant Columbo

Lin Manuel Miranda

Lionblaze

Luo Binghe

Martha Wayne (Flashpoint)

Midnighter

Ms Frizzle

Obsidian/Todd Rice

Onyx Adams

Optimus Prime

Ozymandias

Plastique/Bette Sans Souci

Prodigy/David Alleyne

Puss in Boots

Roronoa Zoro

Roy Kent

Ryu (Street Fighter)

Santa Claus

Scar (FMA)

Solid Snake

Spectrum/Monica Rambeau

Stargirl/Courtney Whitmore

Steve (Blue Clues)

Swamp Thing/Alec Holland

The Flash/Barry Allen

The Immortal Snail

The Pope

The Question/Vic Sage

The Ray/Ray Terrill

Seshomaru

The Thing/Ben Grimm

Tin Tin

Tumblr Anon

Ultraman

Vacuum from Teletubbies

Velvet Crowe

Voltron

Zatanna Zatara

#dc #dc comics #dcu #dc mega tournament #justice league #batman #batfam #marvel #mcu #marvel comics #batman vs everyone

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harleystuff · 26 days ago

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Leo Woodall Gif Pack

[LINK] In this gif packs you will find 387 gifs (275*167) of Leo Woodall as Edward Brooks in ‘Prime Target - S01 E01 & 02’. I made these gifs from scratch, so please don’t claim them as your own and do not repost them in gif hunts (instead link back to this page). You may crop/use them in crackships & stuff, but please don’t forget the credit ! (& since I’m kinda curious, I’d very much like to see :p) Likes and reblogs are appreciated! (Mega link can be found in the master folder) Content warning : semi-nudity, drinking

#leo woodall #leo woodall gif pack #gif pack #leo woodall gifs #gifsociety #prime target #edward brooks

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lovecla · 18 days ago

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𖧷 · 　° .　 ♡ ⊹ QUINN HUGHES MASTERLIST

✶ 𝑎u’s:

01. take your pain away.

before becoming a world-known model, madison carter was someone else. she was quinn hughes’ best friend, and he was her favorite person in the world. until things changed and nothing was ever the same. | nsfw

02. meant to be mine.

as the daughter of one of the most important coaches inside the nhl, there are a lot of things natalie brooks cannot do. dating the captain of the vancouver canucks, quinn hughes, is one of them. | nsfw

✶ 𝑠ingle 𝑐hapter:

01. stuck with you

of all the things y/n thought she was going to do on christmas eve, being stuck with her sister’s brother-in-law, quinn hughes, wasn't one of them. | nsfw

02. favorite kind of night.

when you found out your boyfriend of two years had been cheating on you the entire time, you do what every girl does when they get cheated on: you fuck his best friends. | nsfw

#qh43 #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes imagine #captain quinn #quinn hughes #vancouver canucks x oc #vancouver canucks fic #vancouver canucks imagine #vancouver canucks

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dead-lights · 1 year ago

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portraits of the vatore siblings [in-game wall art]

I'm having a lot of fun putting the Vatores in period clothes, so I made some renders of them dressed up in 1890s-1940s clothing and threw them into that big frame from Vampires.

download [sfs]

This was a pretty big project: 3 cc wall art pieces covering 6 decades of fashion with 12 separate outfits, which resulted in 18 individual renders and 144 total swatches. Also, the frame itself is huge. I prefer them sized down (shift + [ in buy mode) but they are 100% the type to own larger-than-life portraits of themselves.

My hc is that the Vatores were born in the late 1930s/early 1940s, so imo they aren't actually old enough to have worn any of these clothes when they were first in style. I think they dressed up like it’s old times and took a buncha pictures just to confuse people trying to figure out how old they really are. Sibling bonding!

Included below are all 18 renders, with cc and full color below the cut.

1890s

1900s

1910s

1920s

1930s

1940s

I'm a little obsessed with Lilith's 1940s look ngl

lilith

1890s

hair: granny bun by @saurusness

hat: fine feathered hat by @gilded-ghosts

earrings: rose in the garden earrings by @rustys-cc

dress: the ida dress by retro-pixels (direct link)

pose: from mademoiselle by @blackpanda-ts4

1900s

hat: striped bow hat by @lilis-palace

hair: bertha by @buzzardly28

earrings: arthur earrings by @yakfarm

outfit: dress: edwardian huntress dress by @elfdor

pose: also from mademoiselle

1910s

hair and flower accessory: gibson curl updo by @the-melancholy-maiden

earrings: arthur earrings by yakfarm

dress: rose lunch dress by @happylifesims

pose: also from mademoiselle

1920s

hair: maxie by @raindropsoncowplants

lipstick: clara by @chere-indolente

dress: 1920s evening dress 06 by happylifesims

pose: from the louise brooks posepack

1930s

hair: gigi by @simadelics

coat: 1930s female coat 02 by happylifesims

pose: from barstool poses ii by @katverse

1940s

hair & dress from forties film noir by gilded-ghosts

pose: from monday poses by @ratboysims

caleb

1890

hat: 1920s top hat by happylifesims

1900

outfit: men's casual edwardian suit by @historicalsimslife

hat: 1920s bowler hat by happylifesims

1910

hat: 1920s fedora hat by happylifesims

1920

hat/coat: dmitri hat & coat by happylifesims

1930

fedora shape no. 2 by happylifesims

1930s male trench coat 01 by happylifesims

1940

hat: fedora shape no. 1 by happylifesims

suit: paper, ink, & sorrow suit by @anachrosims

sibling poses

jane austen poses by @atashi77 (both 1890)

model poses 32 (lilith 1900, 1920, 1930, 1940) and male poses 11 (caleb 1900, 1910, 1920, 1930, 1940) by @helgatisha

edwardian socialite by @funkyllama (lilith 1910)

@occult-cc-finds

#lilith vatore #caleb vatore #ts4cc #ts4 cc #ts4 buy #ts4 lookbook #ts4 vampires #ts4 wall art #ts4 decor #ts4 historical #ts4 premades #dead-lights cc #deadit #ts4 victorian #ts4 edwardian

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backside-into-the-heavenly · 11 months ago

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Wiscasset, Waterville, & Farmington 9 crosses the Humanson Brook Trestle. 02/2024

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kentobb · 3 months ago

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hiromi higuruma x female secretary (AU).

chapter 02 > chapter 04

chapter 03

Hours later, your eyes flutter open, the harsh glare of the hospital lights immediately making you wince. You groan softly, shifting your gaze around the room. The sterile walls and distant hum of machinery confirm where you are, and you curse yourself under your breath.

Your eyes land on Higuruma, slouched in the chair beside your bed. His long legs stretch out before him, his head tilted slightly to the side as he sleeps. His button-down shirt is wrinkled, stained with blood—yours and his. Bandages cover his forearms, evidence of his own injuries from the accident.

The sight catches you off guard. Has he been here all day? Why hasn’t he left?

You try to sit up, your body protesting with a dull ache. As you adjust your position, the bed lets out a faint creak, loud enough to jolt Higuruma awake.

He blinks a few times, his expression hazy for just a moment before his sharp, professional demeanor takes over again. Straightening his posture, he stands, brushing his hands along his slacks.

“You’re awake,” he states, his voice firm but neutral. His eyes sweep over you, assessing your condition with clinical precision. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” you mutter, your voice hoarse. Your gaze flickers to his shirt again, guilt gnawing at you. “Have you… been here this whole time?”

He avoids the question, instead taking a step closer. “You’ll be staying here for at least two more days,” he says matter-of-factly.

Your eyes widen, and you immediately shake your head. “No, I can’t. I have to work. I can’t afford to stay here.”

His expression hardens, his cold, authoritative tone cutting through the air. “You’re not moving from this hospital bed until the doctors clear you. That’s not up for debate.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off before you can get a word in. “As for the bill, I’ll handle it. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Your stomach twists with discomfort at his words. “No,” you say firmly, meeting his eyes. “I can’t let you do that. I’ll figure it out on my own.”

His jaw tightens, and he steps closer, his presence looming. “This isn’t a negotiation. I’m paying the bill, and you’re staying here. That’s final.”

You bristle, frustration bubbling in your chest. “I don’t need your charity,” you snap, your voice shaky but defiant.

His gaze narrows, the icy sharpness in his eyes making your resolve falter. “Charity?” he repeats, his tone low and cutting. “You were in an accident on my time. As your employer, I’m responsible for your well-being. This has nothing to do with charity.”

The weight of his words hangs heavy in the room, his commanding presence silencing your next argument. You shrink slightly under his intense gaze, but the stubbornness in your chest refuses to let you back down completely.

“You don’t have to do this,” you murmur, your voice quieter now.

“And yet, I will,” he replies, his tone brooking no further discussion. “Your health is non-negotiable. If you have an issue with that, you can take it up with me after you’ve recovered.”

You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. His cold demeanor is as intimidating as ever, but there’s something beneath it—something unspoken that you can’t quite decipher.

Finally, you look away, sinking back into the pillows with a resigned sigh.

He watches you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before nodding curtly. “Good.”

As he steps back toward the chair, you can’t help but steal a glance at him, wondering why he’s so insistent. Why does he care so much?

Hours drift by in quiet tension. Higuruma stands near the window, phone pressed to his ear. His voice is low and clipped, the kind of tone that suggests he’s restraining himself from outright frustration.

“I said a simple change of clothes. Not a parade costume,” he mutters, clearly annoyed.

On the other end of the line, whoever he’s speaking to seems to be taking none of this seriously. His irritation grows with each passing moment, and he pinches the bridge of his nose as if willing himself to remain calm.

“No, I don’t care about what’s in fashion right now,” he snaps finally, his free hand curling into a fist. “Just—” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “Just bring me something decent. And hurry.”

With that, he hangs up, his patience worn thin. His jaw tightens as he exhales sharply, muttering something under his breath about incompetence.

Moments later, a nurse walks in, carrying a tray of food. She places it gently on the small table in front of you before flashing a kind smile and leaving.

You glance at the tray, your stomach growling softly, but as you try to pick up the utensils, pain shoots through your hands. Your fingers tremble, and the effort to lift even a simple fork feels impossible. Frustration wells up in you, but you keep trying, determined to manage on your own.

Higuruma notices.

Without a word, he walks over, his stern gaze softening just a fraction as he watches your futile attempts. He kneels beside your bed, taking the tray and placing it on the bedside table. Then, to your utter surprise, he picks up the utensils himself.

“What are you—?” you start, your face flushing with embarrassment.

“Stop struggling,” he says curtly, his tone firm but lacking its usual coldness. “Let me help you.”

Your protest dies in your throat as he scoops up a small bite of food and holds it out to you.

“I can manage,” you stammer, but the pain in your hands betrays your words.

His gaze meets yours, unwavering and commanding. “No, you can’t,” he replies evenly. “And I don’t have the patience to watch you injure yourself further.”

Reluctantly, you open your mouth, letting him feed you.

The act itself is simple, but the tension in the room shifts. With each bite, the air grows heavier, an unspoken warmth settling between the two of you. Despite his usual detached demeanor, his movements are careful, almost gentle. His focus is entirely on you, and you can’t help but feel your heart race.

At one point, your eyes meet.

The world around you seems to pause, the hospital sounds fading into the background. His gaze is intense, yet there’s something different—something softer, more vulnerable. Your breath hitches, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks.

He doesn’t look away either. For a moment, it feels like there’s something unspoken passing between you, a connection that neither of you can explain.

But just as the moment deepens, the curtain suddenly yanks open with a loud swish.

“Well, isn’t this cozy?” a teasing voice interrupts.

You whip your head toward the source, face burning with embarrassment, and there he is—a tall man with bright eyes and an infuriating grin plastered across his face.

Higuruma straightens immediately, though his hand still lingers on the tray. His usual professionalism snaps back into place. He glares at the intruder, clearly unimpressed.

“What are you doing here?” he asks sharply, his tone laced with irritation.

“Delivery service,” the man chirps, holding up a neatly folded set of clothes. He looks between the two of you, his grin widening. “But, wow, I didn’t realize I’d be walking into a scene straight out of a rom-com.”

Your face feels like it’s on fire as you stammer incoherently, trying to explain, but the man’s gaze is locked on Higuruma now.

“Feeding her by hand? Really? I didn’t know you had it in you,” he says, laughing.

“Enough,” Higuruma growls, setting the utensils down with controlled precision. “Do you ever know when to stop talking?”

The man ignores him entirely, turning his attention back to you with a wink. “You must be the famous new secretary I’ve heard so much about. Lucky you, getting the VIP treatment.”

“Out,” Higuruma commands, his tone low and dangerous.

“Alright, alright,” the man concedes, raising his hands in mock surrender. As he steps back, he can’t resist one last jab. “But seriously, Higuruma, you’re slipping. I think I saw a hint of emotion there.”

The curtain closes behind him, leaving you and Higuruma in a suffocating silence. You peek at him nervously, but his expression is unreadable.

After a moment, he exhales sharply, grabbing the fork again. “You still need to eat,” he mutters, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant.

You nod timidly, letting him continue, though your heart won’t stop racing—not just from the embarrassment but from the undeniable shift in the way he’s treating you.

The rhythmic beeping of the machines monitoring your vitals fills the quiet hospital room. Higuruma sits in the chair by your bedside, case files spread across a small portable table he brought in. His shirt is freshly changed, courtesy of the earlier delivery, but his tie hangs loose, and his sleeves are rolled up. His focus is split—half on the legal notes in front of him, half on you as you sleep, a side effect of the painkillers easing you into much-needed rest.

The phone on the table vibrates, and he sighs, rubbing his temples before answering. “Higuruma,” he says curtly, already anticipating some inconvenience.

“Ah, there you are,” a familiar, calm voice responds. It’s Nanami Kento, a fellow attorney and frequent collaborator. “I was starting to think you’d gone entirely off the grid.”

Higuruma leans back in his chair, keeping one eye on you. “Nanami. If this is about the reunion, I already know I couldn’t make it. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“No need,” Nanami replies smoothly. “I understand. I just wanted to check in. How are you holding up after the accident?”

Higuruma pauses for a moment, his fingers tapping the armrest of the chair. “Fine,” he says shortly. “Minor injuries. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Nanami hums thoughtfully on the other end, sensing the deflection. “And the cause of the accident?”

“The suspect fled the scene,” Higuruma answers, his voice tight with frustration. “I was going to ask if we had any updates.”

“We’re working on it,” Nanami says. “Local authorities are combing through evidence. No name yet, but they’ll find something soon.”

There’s a brief silence, broken only by the sound of Nanami clearing his throat. “And your secretary? I heard she was injured.”

Higuruma stiffens slightly, his tone cooling. “She’s recovering.”

Nanami chuckles softly, sensing his colleague’s avoidance. “You sound invested. That’s unlike you.”

“It’s nothing,” Higuruma replies, though his clipped tone betrays him. “She’s an employee. It’s my responsibility to ensure she recovers fully before returning to work. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Nanami says, his voice laced with amusement. “Well, you should go home and rest. The hospital isn’t the most comfortable place.”

“I’m staying” Higuruma says firmly, without hesitation.

The line goes quiet for a moment. “With your secretary?” Nanami asks, his tone less teasing, more curious.

“Of course,” Higuruma replies, as if the answer is obvious.

Nanami exhales through the phone, clearly surprised but wise enough not to press further. “If that’s your decision, then I won’t argue. Do you need anything? Any assistance with the cases while you’re there?”

“Yes,” Higuruma says, his voice softening slightly. “And… if you could keep Gojo away, that would be great.”

Nanami chuckles, understanding immediately. “Ah. I take it the ‘delivery service’ wasn’t quite to your liking?”

Higuruma pinches the bridge of his nose, his tone turning sharp again. “He’s insufferable.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Nanami says, his voice carrying a hint of humor. “In the meantime, let me know if anything else comes up.”

“Will do,” Higuruma replies, his voice steady. “Thank you, Nanami.”

The call ends, and Higuruma places the phone back on the table, his eyes drifting to you again. You shift slightly in your sleep, murmuring something incoherent, and he leans forward instinctively before catching himself.

He exhales slowly, turning his attention back to his files, though his mind remains stubbornly occupied by the soft rise and fall of your breathing.

The soft hum of the hospital room is the only sound that fills the air, apart from the faint rustle of paper as Higuruma shifts in his chair. The early morning light filters in through the blinds, casting thin beams of sunlight across the sterile walls. Higuruma wakes with a quiet groan, stretching stiffly, his neck protesting the awkward sleep position. He blinks a few times, momentarily disoriented, but then his gaze immediately lands on you.

You’re trying to adjust in bed again, shifting your body, your uninjured arm reaching out, but the bandages and the IV make it a slow, frustrating process. The discomfort is evident in the way you scrunch your face, shifting your weight from side to side, unable to get comfortable. He watches you for a moment, noticing how you avoid looking at him entirely.

“You’re going about it wrong,” his voice rumbles quietly, the gravel in his tone betraying the fact that he just woke up.

You freeze for a split second, as if startled by his voice breaking the silence. Slowly, you glance at him, but the moment your eyes meet, you quickly avert them, looking anywhere but at him. His gaze hardens slightly as he watches you struggle. There’s no trace of the softer side of him that occasionally emerges—it’s the professional Higuruma, the lawyer who doesn’t waste time with unnecessary words or sympathy.

“Shift your weight to your left side. Then, use your uninjured arm to prop yourself up,” he instructs, his words steady and calm, as if he’s giving a briefing to a colleague, not someone in pain. “It’ll help relieve the tension in your back.”

You hesitate before following his instructions, and after a few seconds, you manage to settle into a more comfortable position, your breathing evening out. The relief is palpable, but still, you don’t look at him. You turn your head toward the wall, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise in your cheeks.

“Thank you,” you mumble softly, the words slipping out reluctantly.

He watches you for a beat longer, then leans back in his chair. He lets the silence stretch between you two, but it’s different this time. There’s an undeniable tension in the air, one that neither of you can ignore. Higuruma, still watching you, clears his throat and decides it’s time to address the thing that’s been hanging in the room since yesterday.

“About the coffee,” he says, his voice cutting through the silence.

You freeze once more, your eyes wide with a flicker of panic. It’s almost like you’re trying to will yourself to vanish into the bed, as though the topic would just disappear if you didn’t acknowledge it. But it doesn’t.

“Coffee?” you murmur, purposefully trying to feign confusion, to act as if the incident never happened.

His gaze sharpens, unwavering. “Don’t pretend you don’t know,” he says, the coolness of his tone making it clear that he’s not buying your act. His eyes narrow as he leans forward slightly in his chair, watching you carefully. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You bite your lip, and for a moment, you can’t find the right words. Finally, you let out a small sigh, defeated. “It’s nothing, really,” you mutter, trying to brush it off, but your voice trembles slightly.

Higuruma stares at you, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “Fine,” he says, his voice flat and cold, but there’s a slight edge to it. He knows you’re lying, and somehow, you can tell that he knows it. He doesn’t push any further. He simply lets the silence sit heavily between the two of you for a moment longer.

Another long pause, and then, he changes the subject. His tone shifts, becoming colder, almost clinical. “Your medical records didn’t list any emergency contacts,” he begins, his eyes fixed on you, waiting for a response. “The hospital had to get my permission for your treatment. Why?”

You tense at the question, your fingers absently picking at the blanket, not meeting his gaze. The room feels suddenly smaller, the weight of the question hanging over you like a dark cloud. You don’t want to talk about it, but you also don’t want to seem like you’re hiding anything. With a deep breath, you speak.

“I don’t have any family,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “My mom passed away a few months ago… and I never knew my dad.”

The words feel like they’ve been lodged in your throat for a long time, and now that they’re out, there’s no taking them back. You feel exposed, vulnerable in a way you didn’t expect. Higuruma doesn’t respond immediately, but you can feel his eyes on you, searching for any signs of discomfort. His face remains impassive, but you can’t shake the feeling that he’s processing what you’ve said.

For a moment, he says nothing. His gaze drops briefly to the papers on the side table, then to the window. He seems to be gathering his thoughts. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he speaks again, his voice carefully neutral. “I see.”

His words are like a wall, professional and detached. He doesn’t offer sympathy. He doesn’t try to make it better. He just acknowledges it, as if it’s simply a matter of fact, like one of the many pieces of information he has to process on any given day.

You try to look away, but his gaze pulls you back. His silence speaks volumes, and you suddenly feel like you’re the one being scrutinized, as if your entire life story has just been put on display for him to dissect.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, unsure of what else to say. You wish there was something you could add to make the situation less uncomfortable, but you’re not sure what would help.

Higuruma doesn’t offer a reply this time. He simply stands up and adjusts his tie. “Rest,” he says briskly, almost like a command, not bothering to look back at you.

You nod, still feeling the weight of the conversation linger in the air between you. As he walks out of the room to take care of whatever it is he needs to do, the door clicking shut behind him, you let out a quiet sigh and settle back into the bed, the quiet hum of the machines now the only sound in the room.

#jjk #jjk angst #jjk fluff #higuruma fluff #hiromi higuruma #higuruma hiromi

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