#i'll consider when i'm not sleepy

[deathofacupid]

gojo's relationship with sleep was… complicated. he seemed to view it as an optional activity, like flossing or paying taxes. you, on the other hand, considered sleep a sacred ritual, and dragging him to bed felt like trying to convince a hyperactive hummingbird to take a nap.

"psst," he whispered, loud enough to be heard in the next apartment. "hey."

you groaned, pretending to be a particularly heavy sleeper.

"hey," he repeated, poking your shoulder. you swatted his hand away, a silent leave me alone conveyed through the power of sleepy aggression.

"sweetheart. darling. my bestest friend. my favorite person in the entire universe. sugar-plum. chickadee. kitten-kins. schnukapussy."

"what?" you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

"do you want to play a game? like, a card game or something?"

"what?" you repeated, your brain still trying to process the concept of coherent sentences. "it's the middle of the night. why are you awake?"

"i'm bored. my brain won't shut up. it's like a radio stuck between stations."

"and you thought waking me up would fix that? now we're both going to be miserable," you grumbled, turning over.

"…so, about that game?" he asked, sounding genuinely hopeful.

you stared at him, resisting the urge to express your frustration with a well-placed pillow. "this is what happens when you eat a whole bag of candy before bed. you turn into a nocturnal gremlin."

he shrugged. "oops."

"don't 'oops' me. i'm trying to sleep."

"but you're awake now," he pointed out, with infuriating logic.

"that's not the point!" you sighed, pulling the covers over your head.

he gave you a look that said, "please? with a cherry on top?" and, against your better judgment, you caved. you sighed, pulling him closer. "fine. no games. but i'll do the hair thing. the one that makes you sleepy."

he settled against you, all warm and impossibly comfortable. "until i'm asleep?"

"yes," you said, keeping you eyes trained on him. "until you're asleep."

as you ran your hands through his white locks, he was out in minutes, snoring softly. you smiled, finally feeling yourself drift off.

then, just as you were about to fall asleep, your brain decided to stage a revolt. wide awake. you stared at the ceiling, wondering if you could convince gojo to share his ability to function on zero sleep. to say the least, this would be a long night.

[mytheoristavenue]

Do you think you could do somewhere like where the straw hats + doflamingo are really tired after a hard day and reader offers their lap for them to lay on? And they end up falling asleep? Sorry if it's to much to ask, or if you've done something similar 😅 😭

I originally wasn't going to do this, because I don't really write for OP anymore, but sure! Also, Doflamingo will not be included, as I am not up to that point in the anime yet!

OP Strawhats lying on your lap!

Summary: After a long day, you offer to let them rest in your lap!

Warnings: Innuendo on some, mostly fluff, short

Monkey D. Luffy:

"Ugh, I'm so tired!" The captain groaned, wandering below deck after hours of standing very still at the help of the ship. Nami had condemned him to boredom after finding out how much money he blew on food the past week while in port and he had finally finished serving his punishment.

"You look it," You mused with a small smile. You rolled your eyes as he approached you, dramatically swaying. "Oh, c'mere then, before you fall over."

Luffy cheered, collapsing to the floor, head snuggly tucked in your lap, sighing happily. "You're the best..." He purred, already on the verge of drifting off.

Roronoa Zoro:

Zoro had been crabby all day, he was just tired and it was entirely his own fault. That meant it was everyone else's problem. He was currently ranting at Sanji for something silly when you whistled at him and called him over. "I'm not a damn dog! You can't just-" You patted your thigh invitingly. His shoulders slumped and he came over and planted his cheek against your thigh, not caring for who saw.

"You better stop staying up all night working out." You scolded lightly, raking your fingers through his short hair.

"Yeah, yeah..."

Nami:

"They're all just so dumb!" She groaned, pacing the floors. "You have no idea how hard it is being a secretary to these men." You simply nodded and listened, knowing better than to interject during a rant. "Like seriously, you don't wanna know how much Luffy spent on food while we were ported. And I don't mean for all of us, just for himself!"

Eventually, her pacing turned to standing, then sitting beside you, and finally, she found herself lying between your legs, face snuggled into your inner thigh, anger ebbing in exchange for drowsiness.

"Feel better?" You asked softly, petting her tangerine hair gently.

"I guess..."

Usopp:

You entered his workshop, shoulders slumping at the sight. He was slumped over the workbench again, cheek squished to the wooden surface. You rolled your eyes and approached him, nudging him lightly. "Usopp," You whispered so as not to startle him, though ultimately, your caution was for not.

He jumped, scrambling up into a straight sitting position. "(Y-Y/N)! Y-You can't just scare me like that!" You simply snickered and pulled him up and toward the small bed in the corner. "No, I gotta finish this project-"

"I'll let you lay in my lap." You offered with a knowing smile.

"O-Okay!" He smiled sheepishly, following you, collapsing in your lap without hesitation. The moment he stopped shifting, he began to snore again.

Vinsmoke Sanji:

You had watched him bustle around the kitchen all day, refusing any help offered to him. In the back of your mind, you knew, when Sanji crashed, he'd crash hard. As predicted, after the dinner dishes were finished, he made a beeline for you, hugging you tightly. "I'm so tired..." He mumbled into your ear, voice deep and groggy. "What would be the best way to charm you without exhausting any effort?"

"Consider me charmed." You scoffed playfully, pulling him over to the couch in the lounge before patting your thigh. The way he stared at you, you would have thought you'd just asked him to claim you right then and there. His face was red, eyes glued to your thighs. "Behave yourself." You wanted as he dropped to the floor and nuzzled between your plush thighs.

"Yes ma'am!"

Tony Tony Chopper:

It was typical of Chopper to get sleepy earlier than the rest of the crew, frequently curling up with Robin while the adults settled down to enjoy an evening activity together. This night was different only in one way.

"Ha, royal flush!" You laughed, laying your cards on the table and claiming the cash in the middle of it. You nearly yelped when you felt soft fur brush your calf. Looking down, you found the reindeer climbing up on the bench beside you and curling up in your lap.

"Awe..." You cooed on a whisper, shushing the rowdy rest. "Look at him..."

"It seems I've been replaced," Robin mused with a gentle smile. "How tragic."

Nico Robin:

It was known that on especially hard days, she would welcome you into her lap, uttering soothing words or reading silently while threading her long nails through your hair. But tonight was different. You could tell she was upset, despite her cool nature. When you'd finally convinced her to open up, you found that she was having unpleasent dreams involving her past.

"Can't get anything past you, can I?" She laughed sadly, before her brows shot up in surprise as you patted your lap.

"I know I'm probably not as good at this as you are..." You muttered sheepishly. "But..."

To your delight, she laid down, face up in your lap, and allowed you to play with her hair while she read quietly to herself. "You couldn't be more wrong, this is perfect." She sighed blissfully.

Cyborg Franky:

Franky had been in an awfully sour mood lately, totally uncharacteristic of him. After witnessing him get into a small argument with Usopp over a new ship upgrade thew were collaborating on, you knew you had to have a word with him. "Franky, what's your deal lately?" You huffed, hands on your hips.

"No deal," He scoffed, turning away. "What's it to ya?"

"You're acting like Zoro when he misses a nap." Your eyes narrowed sternly. He sighed.

"I ain't been sleepin' well, okay?" He finally admitted sheepishly. You softened, smiling slightly.

"Why didn't you just say so?" You climbed up on a large crate of ale, sitting at the perfect height, patting your lap. "Come take a nap, you'll feel better."

"N-Nah, I'll be good," He shook his head, cheeks a bit pink. After a bit more convincing, he finally sat on the floor, back against the crate, and rested his head in your lap as you brushed the cyan locks from his eyes and removed his shades. "You were right, this is nice..."

Brook:

The ship was eerily quiet today and for the life of you, you couldn't figure out why. Suddenly, it hit you. You hadn't seen or heard Brook all day long. After asking around, you found him in the lounge, staring at the fish. "Brook, you okay?" You asked softly, tilting your head into his view.

"Oh, yes, my dear. Just in thought." He sighed, empty sockets seemingly tracking the tropical fish as they wandered the glass enclosure. "The only I get, the younger my old friends seem." He admitted quietly and your eyes softened.

You weren't entirely sure how long had passed as you sat there with him, watching the fish interact with one another, or when you'd begun to lean into one another. "Brook?" You asked softly, eyes never looking away from the tank. "I can't do much to help but...would you like to lay in my lap?"

"I'd like that very much, my dear." He replied, patiently waiting for you to get into a comfortable position before laying out his lanky form on the sofa between your thighs. "This helps so much more than you know." The pair of you stayed that way for a while until you began to feel skeletal phalanges lightly digging into the meat of your legs. "You know, since you're in such a giving mood..."

"You're done." You deadpanned, pushing him away.

Jinbe:

You had never had much experience with Jinbe, having only known him for a short while, be he seemed to always know when the emotional atmosphere around him had changed. Thanks to this empathy, he noticed immediately when you'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed. "(Y/N)? What's the matter?" He asked, cocking a brow as you stepped below deck.

"Just in a mood..." You grumbled, coldly brushing him off. Ever patient, he simply gave you a warm smile and let you be. As the day wore on, you both found yourself winding down in the lounge. You grumpy day catching up with you, you dozed off, cheek pressed to his shoulder. Smiling fondly, Jinbe repositioned you, delicately resting your head in his lap, large webbed hand very carefully brushing the fringe from your eyes.

[girlfromflor]

kyle garrick feeds you every time he feels like he can.

it's not uncommon for him to feel self-councious about his desires – maybe thinking he's a bit weird for it, or whatever. but when he sees the opportunity to deep dive in them he's done for.

so seeing you busy writing something down like your life depends on it, he can't help but say "hey, baby? food's ready," knowing damn well you'll say you're going to eat later.

"sorry, but i'm busy right now. just let me finish this real quick..." you mumble, not even paying him a glance. he smiles at the notion because, considering your headspace, you'll either brush him off or agree blindly to whatever he has to say.

"can i feed you, then? you don't have to move, i'll bring our food for us to eat here." he offers, and you answer with "okay, thanks, love" like you usually do after he says he'd be waiting for you, automatically, not even registering the fact that he didn’t say that.

once you realize it, it’s is too late. he's sitting by your side, a plate twice as big as you usually have in his hands – because he'll eat out of the same plate he'll feed you – as he pushes a fork filled with your favorite salty food to your lips.

you don't brush him off immediately like he expected you to, you simply glance over him before taking a bite. he hums in appreciation as you chew – like he's the one eating – and takes a bite himself. and that goes until the food is all gone, you keep your task until you feel sleepy from eating so much and he kisses your lips before getting up to leave the dishes in the sink – you'll do them later.

he watches silently as you gather your things and put them away before going over at him, kissing him once again. "thank you for feeding me..." you say honestly, mumbling into his neck as you hug him by the waist.

"i love to do it, baby," he answers, kissing your temple. then, he adds: "what do you think we lay down for a bit now, eh?"

and you gladly comply, the both of you cuddling under the covers until you're both asleep and dreaming of each other.

[gumilac]

for MEGUMI, it's the quiet lazy mornings, the sun from behind the blinds falling on his face, the soft giggles ringing in his ears, and the peppered kisses being littered on his face; that he considers the best part of waking up—even the best part of his day.

you giggle and push raven locks away from his face, a sickly sweet greeting making its way to his ears, "good morning, megs."

he flutters his eyes open, blinking sleep away, a hazy figure before him before it all finally clears. he smiles lopsidedly, and reaches an arm to wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer. 

“hey darling…” he says, before placing kisses on your face. he pulls back just a bit, enough to see more of your figure—more of you. and for a sight he swears is ingrained in his mind, it always seems to catch him off-guard. still, makes his heart skip a beat. 

your smile.

"rest well?" you softly question your sleepy boyfriend.

for how much you ask? he knows the answer, always has the same one. 

so, he closes his eyes, a small smile forming on his lips and he hums an affirmative; the deep grumble of his chest as it echoes in the quiet space of your shared bedroom. you reach out to caress his cheeks, an action that makes him instinctively nuzzle in the palm of your hand.

and for megumi, it’s moments like these that tell him... 

he's home. always will be.

aki's notes. ofc when i say i'll get back into writing again, it'll be about megumi. ofc ofc ofc, i'm not megumi's gf for no reason XD i hope you guys enjoy this little sweet, sleepy, megumi drabble. i hope its a first of many fics for my term break!!!

[followthestarliight]

the LI the LADS Men are jealous of

featuring - Xavier x F!Reader, Rafayel x F!Reader, Sylus x F!Reader, Caleb x F!Reader, Zayne x F!Reader

XAVIER

Every single one, but none of them elicit a stronger reaction from him than Caleb.

It's a little funny, because while Xavier doesn't usually express emotion unless he's with you, his expressions take you out when he sees Caleb. He either pouts, glares, or stares very, very intensely at the Colonel - as if trying to will him out of existence. He finds it very hard to keep a straight face around your childhood friend, and you find it even harder to keep yourself from laughing.

It was very rare for Caleb to visit you in Linkon. He was so busy that you usually went up to Skyhaven to see him, though you hadn't gone in weeks due to the influx of missions you'd been assigned. So you were in the middle of planning a trip to Skyhaven, Xavier having insisted on coming with you this time.

"Xav, won't the Hunters Assoc-"

"I've asked for a few days leave."

"You don't need-"

"I want to," he said so sweetly, with an even sweeter smile, his bright eyes never failing to make you melt.

"...Okay."

But now, as you two were looking for accommodation - you figured that offering to stay at Caleb's was out of the question, even if you had a key - there was a knock on your apartment door.

"I'll get it," Xavier stood up, walking over to open it. His body tensing moments later told you exactly who was at the door.

"Colonel," your boyfriend greeted him formally, stepping aside, "What brings you to Linkon?"

"Just wanted to see my pipsqueak," Caleb grinned, oblivious to the sharp, terrifying glare that followed him as he walked deeper into your apartment.

Xavier hated that nickname. More than he hated Wanderers.

"Caleb!" You beamed, jumping up from the couch.

Did the Colonel really need his eyes? Xavier wondered, as he came up with a dozen different ways to kidnap and blind your poor childhood friend, who was really doing nothing wrong.

Not only did Caleb have a very annoying nickname for you, but he had also grown up with you. He was close to you in ways Xavier could only dream of being, and he knew everything about you - mannerisms, habits, favourites, likes, dislikes...much more than Xavier knew, because he was still discovering all of that. You had spent your entire childhood with the Farspace Fleet Colonel, whereas Xavier had only thus far had just over a year of time spent with you.

And...maybe he was also jealous that Caleb was more outgoing, more expressive, than he was. The stark differences between them gnawed at him, like an itch that wouldn't go away.

Xavier joined you on the couch quietly, his eyes flitting between you and Caleb as the Colonel asked you if you've been eating well and getting enough sleep. Why was he asking? Xavier took care of you, and he did it well. You ate together, and fell asleep together. He was perfectly capable of-

"Xav, you okay?" You cut off his train of thought, a worried expression settling on your face at the look on his. He looked like he was going to take out the whole city block's lights.

"I'm fine," he replied calmly, in his usual tone. Though you knew him well, and you noticed the slight pout on his lips and you picked up on the jealousy in his voice.

Once Caleb was gone - everyone had agreed it might be best if he stayed in Xavier's apartment while Xavier stayed with you - you sidled up to the pouty Hunter on the couch.

"Xav," you poked his cheek, "Were you jealous of someone I only consider an older brother?"

"No," he mumbled, trying to appear cool and collected.

You laughed, resting your head on his shoulder. Your hands slipped into the warm pockets of his hoodie, earning you the slightest of smiles.

"You don't have to worry, I love my sleepy Hunter boyfriend more than anyone," you kissed his cheek. "I'm yours, for as long as you want me."

"Forever."

RAFAYEL

Rafayel asserted multiple times that he did not ever get jealous - but for every time he made that preposterous claim, there was a time that he very obviously got jealous of Xavier.

"It's always the quiet ones!" He would retort, when you chided him for being so hostile towards your partner.

"He's harmless! To you, anyway!"

"Sure...until one day I wake up and you're gone...with him!"

Your poor, overdramatic fishie would never admit it out loud, but he was jealous of the Hunter's ability to stay calm in any situation. He was quiet, reserved, mature - not dramatic, loud and childish like Rafayel was. He was Rafayel's opposite, and sometimes...sometimes the fear got the best of Rafayel and he'd think one day you'll be tired of his antics and run off with the Hunter. Xavier also didn't necessarily need a bodyguard, so that also worried Rafayel - his deepest insecurity when it came to this one-sided rivalry was that he was too reliant on you, unlike your partner.

Today he seemed to be especially bothered by your association with the blue-eyed 'menace' - Rafayel's "insulting" nickname for him.

"Do you have to go?" He pouted, bottom lip sticking out so adorably that you were almost tempted to stay and cuddle him longer.

"Yes, I do. But I'll be back soon," you kissed his cheek.

"Mhm," he crossed his arms, sulking. "I'll give you one hour, then I'm going to drown him in the ocean for thinking he can steal you away from me!"

"He doesn't-!" You laughed. "Where did you get that idea??"

"Shhh, go now before I spit bubbles at you."

His indignant tone forced you to bite your lip so you wouldn't provoke him further with your amusement.

When you returned, the weariness drained from your system as your eyes widened, becoming comically large at the sight of the painting that was adorning the wall before you - the painting that your boyfriend was currently working on.

Red.

That's pretty much all you saw.

On the surface, it was a beautiful painting with no clear meaning or no visible references. But because you knew Rafayel, and you knew how he could be, you immediately knew that the blue and silver laced together within the chaos of the red was meant to symbolise Xavier.

"What is this?" You asked him, amused but also a little frightened.

"You like it?" His voice had an uncharacteristically unstable edge to it, "It came to me right after you left."

"...Yeah...I'll bet..."

You approached him, ready to give him a kiss, but he didn't climb down to meet you like he usually did. His eyes remained fixed on the canvas, his paintbrush moving swiftly. You tugged on his pants, thinking he didn't see you standing there, but he stubbornly refused to give you any attention.

"Rafayel!" You smacked his calf, making him yelp and drop his paintbrush, red paint splattering all over the tiles.

He finally looked at you, his expression a mix between a pout and a glare, "Yes?"

"Can you please come down?"

"That depends, are you actually going to stay with me this time or run away with your Prince Charming?"

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, "I'm considering the latter."

That got his attention, an undignified screech leaving his lips as he practically hurled himself at you. The two of you hit the ground in a tangled mess of limbs, his arms wrapping around you like tendrils, tightening when you tried to struggle.

"Rafayel!"

"Sorry, not sorry, cutie," he grinned at you, peppering your face with kisses. "I caught you, so by rule you are mine to keep."

"Technically, I caught you..."

SYLUS

Sylus never struck you as the jealous type, but you soon learned that he was not always as composed as he made himself out to be, especially whenever the name Zayne came up in a conversation.

It was harmless, too, a comment that you didn't think would be problematic. But it sparked some unwelcome thoughts in his mind.

"I'm fine, Sylus. Doctor Zayne was there. He helped finish off the Wanderer and then took me home after treating my wounds."

Sylus's jaw clenched. Why was another man taking care of you? Why was another man taking you home? That was his job, and his job alone. You were dating him, not whoever this Zayne was. So yes, maybe his possessive streak flared up a little.

So he did his research.

This doctor was well-known, and had earned a very respectable reputation. He also earned well enough to live luxuriously, but seemed to choose a simpler life instead. Humility.

He found himself scoffing as he read more and more.

But that may have been an attempt to hide his growing insecurity. He knew he wasn't good for you - quite the opposite in fact. His reputation, what he did for a living, how he handled things...he always knew you were too good for him. Before, it was easier to ignore because you were happy.

Now?

Much harder, knowing that you had someone who could take care of you just as well as, if not better than, he did. Someone who was just as pure as you, someone who lived in the same place as you and could see you whenever he wanted.

Sylus didn't tell you about this. He didn't want to make you choose. Or maybe, he was avoiding it because he was scared...that your choice wouldn't be him.

When you finally got to the N109 Zone, Sylus couldn't stop himself from engulfing you in what felt like the tightest embrace he'd ever got you in. Like he was trying to crush you, though not intentionally.

"I missed you," his deep voice was muffled by your hair.

"I missed you too," your expression softened, a warm smile on your lips as you wrapped your arms around him. "But what's prompted this sudden, unexpected affection?"

"Can I not just miss my girlfriend without having an ulterior motive?" He chuckled, pulling away to give you a once-over. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Doctor Zayne-"

Behind Sylus, Luke and Kieran shook their heads frantically, as if trying to tell you not to say what you were going to say. They were trying to be discreet, but then you frowned.

"Luke, Kieran, out," Sylus commanded, without even looking.

"Do you not like Zayne?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, now it's Zayne, hmm? What happened to 'Doctor'?" He chuckled, clearly trying to brush this off.

"Sylus."

He sighed, "The doctor seems...nice." Saying even that was clearly a struggle for him.

You laughed.

"Is my misery amusing to you, kitten?" He asked, though his eyes betrayed his own amusement. "You like seeing me suffer?"

"Nooo," you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck, "I just...it's so unexpected. I didn't think any man in existence could make you jealous...since you're the guy making other boyfriends jealous. Or, well you would, if you spoke to any other women..."

His amusement only increased, though your words did bring him comfort, "Would you like me to speak to other women, then? Test out your little claim."

"Absolutely not."

Sylus's laugh was rich, deep and full of joy.

CALEB

Like Xavier, Caleb is jealous of every single one of the LIs, though his Operation: Get Rid of The Other LIs didn't officially start until he found out about your encounters with Sylus, the head of Onychinus.

In this situation, his concern over your wellbeing (and your constant visits to the N109 Zone) warred with his intense jealousy and possessive nature. He didn't know whether to be more worried about you going into such a dangerous place so often, or worried about you being around Sylus more than he'd liked.

You had met Sylus before you found out Caleb was alive, that much he knew. The only way he could rationalise your behaviour in this regard was that he hadn't been there to stop you.

And now you spoke about the Onychinus leader as if he was a saint - which he was far from being.

"Next time you need to go to the N109 Zone, for whatever, tell me," he murmured in your ear one night, as you lay in his arms watching a movie.

"That's random..." You looked up at him, "What made you think of that?"

"Promise me," his eyes darkened.

"Okay, okay, I promise. But don't you think...that the Farspace Fleet's Colonel being in the N109 Zone would draw some...unwanted attention?"

"Last I checked, pipsqueak, you did that by yourself," his tone lightened, turning teasing.

"Hold on," you raised an eyebrow, "Are you-"

"Nope."

"You didn't even know what I was going to ask!"

"Yes I did," he flashed you a mischievous smile, "You were going to ask if I was joking. Which I wasn't."

"I wasn't-"

"Shhh, the movie is playing."

"Sylus."

Immediately the Colonel tensed beneath you. His arms tightened around your body, almost squeezing the life out of you. His hot breath warmed your neck, before he bit you.

"Don't say that name," he was trying to sound playful, but the dark undertones made you shiver. "Don't even think it."

Caleb was trying his best to keep calm. But hearing you say the Onychinus leader's name, even playfully, was really pushing his limits. His low growl was an indication of that, if his possessive bite wasn't.

"You're jealous," you laughed, amused and slightly disturbed.

"And you're mine," he growled once more. "Mine."

"That wasn't in question-"

"That guy," he pointed to a character on screen, one of the worst developed characters in the movie, with the worst appearance, "Reminded me of the Onychinus leader."

"You mean Sylus?" You laughed.

"No, the leader of Onychinus."

"So....Sylus."

"Stop that!" He growled.

"We're saying the same thing!"

"Every time you say his name, pipsqueak, I'm going to bite you. Hard."

Despite that sounding like a good thing, you shivered. When Caleb wanted to bite you as a punishment, it definitely was a punishment. He latched his teeth onto your shoulder, and kept them there until you squirmed uncomfortably and tried pushing him off. Usually leaving indents that you could not, for the life of you, make an excuse for in public when anyone saw it.

"...Alright fine...Caleb."

"Much better."

ZAYNE

Rafayel's new painting this, Rafayel's new painting that. Zayne was, ironically, sick and tired of hearing those words. Those specific words. He was a patient man, so it wasn't the other women in the hospital talking about Rafayel that got to him.

It was when you spoke about him.

Zayne was well aware that Rafayel had hired you as his bodyguard, which really wasn't a problem. You were a good Hunter, you could be trusted. But could Rafayel?

Zayne often wondered why you'd chosen him. Especially when he comes across men like the purple-haired artist. He knew he wasn't the most lively or fun person, he could be stern and restrictive, and he absolutely did not know how to flirt or be romantic in an 'aw, that's sweet' kind of way, the kind that makes people swoon.

He worked late, he couldn't spend much time with you beyond morning office visits and very rare lunches or dinners, and sometimes he had to leave during those, too.

Yet you endured everything, with a smile on your face.

And Zayne was content, for a while, knowing you had no qualms about all of this. But then you met Rafayel, the eccentric, bright-eyed artist that had a knack for flirting and making you laugh. The man whom you had much more fun with, always off doing something dangerous, or something simple like one of his art exhibitions or going to the carnival.

Things Zayne was too busy to do with you.

"Zayne?" Your voice brought him back to reality. "Are you alright?"

The doctor blinked, lifting his head to see you settling into the chair across from him, on the other side of his desk. A brown paper bag sat in front of you, and your eyes were studying his face worriedly.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, I'm fine." He adjusted his glasses. "Is this-"

"Yes," you finished eagerly, your eyes brightening, "I figured you would want some. You barely had time for breakfast this morning."

"And you think a brownie will fill me?" He asked, not realising how badly that came out until his eyes landed on your face, watching it fall as hurt flashed in your own eyes.

"Oh, well, I-" You reached for the bag. "I'm sorry, I'll-"

"Don't," he gently grabbed your wrist. "Please, don't go."

You sat back down, but stayed quiet.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, taking off his glasses, "I was just thinking about how much time you have spent with the artist, and it reminded me that we haven't spent enough time together."

"Rafayel?" You frowned. "Why-"

"Some of the nurses were talking about him," he leaned forward, his arms coming to rest on his desk. "You always laugh when you talk about him."

Your eyes widened, realising what was wrong, and then you reached over to take his hands in yours, "Because he's an idiot. Seriously. I tune out half of the things he says!"

"But...you have fun with him," the doctor frowned, as if your response didn't make sense.

"Yeah, but not the kind of fun I have with you," you smiled, then realised how that sounded. "I-I mean, not that kind of fun, but the kind of fun that...oh forget it." Your cheeks burned.

Zayne chuckled at that, "I understand." His heart fluttered at the implication.

"Ah, the romantic kind of fun, that's what I mean!" You looked proud of yourself, for finally saying it. "The dates, the cuddling, the short but incredibly sweet moments we share...Zayne, I don't have that with anyone else and I would never want to. You're what I want, and certainly what I need. A grounded, responsible man to keep me from doing stupid, reckless things."

"You do them anyway," he pointed out, though his smile was now a little bigger.

"Yes, yes, details," you waved his extremely logical point away, "What I'm trying to say here is...I like our dynamic best. You, the mature and responsible one, and me, the reckless and playful one. I don't want another me in a relationship!"

That's when Zayne laughed, a genuine laugh that only you ever heard. And you smiled, because being able to ease his worries was something you enjoyed doing more than anything else.

"I love you, Zayne. Only you."

[jarofstyles]

Use Your Head

Hi my love bugs!! Part two to Migraine is here. I'm sorry it took me a bit to edit. Last half of the original one shot but I am already planning/ have written a few patreon exclusive extensions for them. Enjoy!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 260+ exclusive writings

WC- 11.2k

Warnings- mentions of alcoholism/addiction, anxiety, prior bullying, smut, biting, soft dom!Harry, unprotected sex, creampie, slight moment of choking

Over the following weeks, Harry made a conscious effort to change how he interacted with Y/N. No more constant teasing, no more overly loud jokes to try and capture her attention. No more being straight up obnoxious. 

Instead, he found himself bringing her coffee on days he knew she was fighting a migraine, asking genuinely about her day, and going out of his way to make her life a little bit easier. It wasn’t just the guilt of it that was the driving force. Y/N was so lovely, so sweet. He’d been stupid to think that just because she was quiet that she was being judgmental or that she didn’t like him- because if he’d bothered to sit and listen to the whispers she did let out, he’d have been as enamored as he was now, months ago. And that was saying something considering how his crush had festered.

 Oddly enough, he had shared bits of his life with her that he usually kept private. It was something his therapist said was a defense mechanism for him, using humor to get people to like him but also succeed without opening up- but Y/N seemed to genuinely listen. She remembered stuff he said about his childhood dog or the fact cilantro tasted like soap to him. And to his surprise, she started opening up too - albeit cautiously. Her quiet demeanor made their late-night office chat sessions when they had to finish projects more special somehow, each small exchange feeling earned rather than forced.

It had started with her coffee order- iced mocha when she was drinking for enjoyment but an americano was ideal when she was approaching a headache for optimal caffeine. Then it ventured into the little fun facts that had him keeping a mental log of the obscure things he picked up along the way. 

She was really good at using chopsticks, she kept a tea kettle in her office and tea bags- including the ones he’d gotten her- which she would let him have if he asked.  She had a pet rabbit at home named Mocha, in honor of her favorite drink. She went to bed at exactly midnight (or tried to when her sleeping issue didn’t bug her) every night. She preferred the shape of anatomical hearts over the standard ones used for Valentine’s Day. She had an extensive TBR (he found out it meant To Be Read from google later) but she kept falling for sales and she was a sucker for a good romance so she had books in piles all over her place. All the things he learned were kept up in his head as precious information to use to make her feel more seen, more comfortable. 

So when she had mentioned having trouble falling asleep the last few days, he had taken it upon himself to grab her something his mum recommended. “It’s called sleepy time tea? S’got the cute bear on the box, so it must be decent.” He sat across from her in the break room, sliding the box across the table to her. “My mum used to deal with insomnia and she liked this one a lot. It may not fix everything but it helps make you drowsy.”

The woman glanced down at the tea box, a small smile tugging at her lips as she took in the cute bear illustration. She picked up the box, examining it further to see the ingredients before meeting Harry's gaze. "Your mum has good taste." She remarked, her voice soft but genuinely appreciative. Y/N tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a gesture Harry was starting to recognize as a sign she was a little flustered. It usually followed something he did for her. "I'll give it a try tonight. Hopefully, it helps me sleep better than counting sheep."

“Mhm.. I hope so too. I don’t mean to keep throwing gifts and stuff at you, but I remembered you saying you were frustrated by it and figured I’d ask someone who’s dealt with that stuff before.” (Harry slept like a log,so he wasn’t much help.) He tapped his fingers against his thigh in a slightly anxious pattern. It wasn’t like he was going crazy- he mainly got her coffee or in this case, tea, but the last thing he wanted to do was make it seem like he was buying her friendship. “Did you submit your part of the project yet?”

"Yeah, finally got that done yesterday," The answer came with a small smile forming as she looked up from the tea box. "I actually managed to get through the presentation without forgetting any bullet points or stuttering this time." Placing the tea carefully in her bag, the corner of her lips curling up a bit more. Fucking adorable. "Thanks for checking in though. Most people don't care about these tiny details." The truth was, she found it sweet when he did. It showed he actually listened to her talking about work stress. "Want to grab lunch later?"

Harry's face lit up at her invitation, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "I'd love that,"  He accepted easily, his voice warm and sincere. As if he would ever say no to that. "How about we go to that new sushi place down the street? I've been dying to try it out." Leaning back in his chair, he watched as she pulled up the menu on her phone. "My treat, of course. As a thank you for being so patient with me and my... previous behavior."

“Harry, you don’t have to keep making up for it. I believe you. We’re friends.” She sighed, tapping on top of the table. “You can let go of that guilt. Okay? You’ve proven yourself every day to me. As long as you don’t turn around and be a dick for no reason again, I’m fine. Really.”

A small laugh escaped him as he nodded, genuinely grateful for her understanding. It wasn’t something he probably deserved, but she was too good. "Alright, alright. No more guilt trips." He leaned forward on his desk, fingers drumming against the wood. "And I mean it, by the way. I'm truly not trying to buy your friendship with gifts. Though..." he pause. "If I wanted to treat a friend to sushi, would you say no?" The word 'friend' felt strange in his mouth now - almost too casual considering how much time they'd spent together lately.

She gave him a look, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t need you to treat me, H. Really.” It seemed like he did like to do it regardless but he’d be really sweet. As much as she didn’t need the extra things, the coffees or little treats he got her, it did make her feel appreciated- though she didn’t admit it too often because she knew he’d keep doing it.

"I know you don't need me to," he said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "But I want to. And besides, it's not like I'm buying you a whole new wardrobe or anything." He stood up from his desk, walking around to stand in front of her. "Let me just spoil you a little bit, okay? It makes me happy to do nice things for you." He gave her a small, sincere smile, his eyes searching hers. "Please?"

She sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes but ultimately gave in to his puppy dog eyes. Those things were brutal. "Fine, fine," she conceded, crossing her arms over her chest. "But only because you look pathetic begging like that." 

Harry's face lit up with a triumphant grin. "See? Was that so hard?" He chuckled, ruffling her hair slightly before she could swat his hand away. "Alright, sushi it is then. My treat."

—-

Harry found himself more relaxed than usual during their lunch. He’d been dying to try it since he’d seen a review in the paper and there was no one else he’d rather eat with right now. Being around her felt exciting just as much as it was relaxing. She was so calm and sweet, making him feel at ease even though sometimes he felt like he was buzzing when she gave him her attention. 

Was this the shit he had been missing out on when he could have just spoken to her without acting out? He’d wasted a lot of time, but she was thankfully far more gracious than he would have expected her to be. They sat across from each other at a small table by the window, the sunlight creating a warm glow around them. The conversation flowed easily, no lulls. Y/N was by far the easiest person to talk to once she warmed up to you, and he was finding out the pleasures of getting closer to her every day. "You know," the man hummed, picking up a piece of sushi with his chopsticks, "the whole office is going to drinks tonight." He paused, studying her face. "Are you planning on..."

"Going?" She finished his question, laughing softly. "Probably. I don't go out much, so when they suggest it, I’ve been trying say yes." She picked up an egg roll, dipping it in soy sauce. "You?" She asked, meeting his gaze. He was struck by how pretty her eyes were, how they almost sparkled when she laughed. It was weird how beautiful she was. How people didn’t put their foot in their mouths like he had whenever he had been around her prior. It was distracting in the best of ways.  Damn it, he really liked her.

 "Yeah, I'll go," He said, pulling himself together. The last couple of times he had ditched mainly because he had been trying to catch up on some other stuff, but considering he knew for sure Y/N would be there? There was no way he wouldn’t. "The whole marketing team will be there. You too?"

"The whole marketing team," she confirmed, nodding her head. "Including Laura and Tom, who always end up drunk and arguing about whatever anyone wants to bring up." She took a sip of her iced strawberry açaí green tea, a small smile tugging at her lips at the memory of the last office outing where exactly that had happened. "And probably Jennifer from HR, who always tries to get everyone to play truth or dare like we’re still in school. I mean, considering she’s HR she has to know that would be a major violation. Sometimes I think she tries to get it to happen so she has something to do at work considering everything is usually relaxed." Y/N laughed softly, setting her chopsticks down. "Will you be there the whole time? Or will you bow out halfway through?" Sometimes Y/N got a little overstimulated from being out at places like that and she had to leave.

"I usually stay the whole time. You know me, supposed party animal." Harry shrugged his shoulder at the title.  She was like a different person when she wasn’t at the office. He was too, obviously, but it felt more dramatic when it came to her. "But actually I… I don’t drink.” His face shifted before he smiled again, though it didn’t fully reach his eyes. “I'm the one who usually calls cabs at the end of the night when everyone is hammered." The words seemed casual enough as he picked up another piece of sushi, but there was something unsaid. 

“Oh!” She was somehow a little surprised at that. Something about Harry did give ‘party animal’ but it was mostly his extroverted nature. “I’m glad you still come out then. I can have a drink or two if I feel like it but it’s not really my thing, you know? I’m not a fan of the taste so I go for the fruity or sweet stuff.” She set her chopsticks down to give her tummy a break. The suggestion had been really good, actually. It may as well be added to her take out rotation. “It’s nice of you to do that for them, Har. Really.” She had tried not to pay him much mind in the past but the kindness wasn’t overlooked now.

"It's no big deal," He waved off her compliment, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He always did it without expecting anything in return, but hearing her say it made him feel a little warm inside. He liked that she was noticing these things now. “I um, I used to struggle with alcohol. Drinking too much. It was a nasty habit I picked up in uni and I didn’t realize how bad it was getting.” Clearing his throat, he looked down towards his plate. “S’been 5 years. It doesn’t bother me to see other people drink so it’s fine when I go out. But yeah it’s… S’a interesting dynamic.” He had no idea why he chose now to tell her that. It wasn’t something he ever really talked about at all, but… Y/N felt like a safe person.

"You're the first person at work who knows about that." He admitted quietly, stealing glances at her face to gauge her reaction. He'd spent months being an asshole around her, and now he was trusting her with this? Something vulnerable, genuinely real. Something he usually only shared with close friends or his therapist. "Most people assume I just don't drink because I'm some kind of saint." He managed a small laugh, but it was edged with something more vulnerable. "Though I’d appreciate it if you could keep that between us. I’ll take the party animal jokes over them knowing..."

“Harry, I would never.” She interrupted, reaching for his hand with concern on her face. “First of all, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You realized you had a problem and you did what you needed to do to better your life. That’s fucking amazing!” It was rare to hear her cuss but it felt like an appropriate time. “Addiction can happen to anyone at any time. But I can assure you there is no way in hell that I’d try and tell anyone your business. You trusting me enough to tell me that isn’t lost on me, okay?” Stroking her thumb over the top of his hand, she gave him a little smile.

"Damn." He laughed softly, his shoulders relaxing. He hadn't expected her to get it so quickly. Most people just made recovery sound like something that he should hide, like it was something dirty or shameful. She made it sound like any other condition. "You get it," He said slowly, his voice lower. "Like, really get it. You're not going to make a joke or something?" He wouldn’t have blamed her considering how he had treated her before. But Y/N would never. That was the difference. He had been a bit used to people reacting negatively.

“Nope. No need for jokes.” She didn’t even think about that. “We don’t even have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to. That information is safe with me. I don’t need anything else from it. We can just move on and talk about it another time, okay?” Squeezing his larger hand with her own, all she wanted to do was make him comfortable. They’d have to head back to work soon and she didn't want the conversation to get cut off if they got deeper into it, but she really appreciated him opening up. Never would she have thought that. Then again, even after the last few weeks of getting closer, there was still so much to him that she didn’t know.

Harry nodded, giving her hand a grateful squeeze back before reluctantly letting go as they both stood to throw out their trash. "Thanks." he said softly, meeting her gaze. "Seriously. That means a lot." As they walked back towards the office, he couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading through his chest as their hands brushed each others every so often. She had handled that revelation with such compassion and grace, without any of the judgment he'd feared.

 It was yet another reason why he was slowly falling for her, despite his best efforts not to.

———

The usual crowd was filling up the bar - coworkers laughing loudly, ordering rounds of shots. Y/N sat at a high-top table with a few of the infamous marketing team members, sipping her second drink- another Diet Coke, as he had heard her order. Across the table, Laura and Tom were already getting heated in their friendly argument about the rightful winner of the Grammy’s. Meanwhile, Harry leaned against the bar, ordering water for himself and checking his phone occasionally, but mostly keeping an eye on Y/N.

 It was hard to keep his eyes off of her at all, especially after she had taken her blazer off and showed her arms in the tank top she’d had underneath it. So distracting, in fact, that he’d barely noticed someone from accounting, a blonde named Michelle he’d talked to a few times, saddled up next to him. "Hey Harry."

Michelle batted her eyelashes at him, ordering herself a vodka cranberry from the bartender before turning her attention back to Harry. "You're looking pretty bored standing here by yourself," She remarked, leaning against the bar next to him. "Why don't you come sit with us?" Her hand gestured towards a group of her friends from accounting, who were laughing and drinking nearby. Harry, however, barely spared her a glance before responding politely, "Nah, I'm good here. Thank you for the offer though."

"Come on, you're usually the life of the party. Don't tell me you're just going to stand here all night." Michelle persisted, adjusting her top slightly. Normally, that kind of fljrting could worked - but the way she had said it put him off. Besides, all Harry could focus on was Y/N laughing with her team members across the room. "Look, I actually need to... Excuse me." He mumbled, excusing himself from Michelle before she could protest. Finding his way back to Y/N, he leaned down to whisper her ear. It was closer than he usually got to her and he tried not to let that get him distracted. “Please help me. Michelle’s been bothering me the last few times n’I really don’t want t’be wrapped up in all of that.”

As he spoke into her ear, Y/N could feel the warmth of his breath against her neck, sending shivers down her back that she quickly ignored. Hopefully he wouldn’t be able to notice any of the chills on her arms. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating up close, the sweetened spice making it hard to focus on the task at hand - helping him avoid Michelle. "Uh sure- What do you need help with?" She asked, turning her head to look up at him, their faces inches apart. He looked so frustrated, and for some reason, seeing him like that made her stomach flutter.

His eyes locked with hers, he saw a flicker of something in her eyes that made his stomach drop - was it just the light, or was she actually looking at him like that? He pushed the thought aside, focusing on his problem. "Can you come t’the bar and lean into me or something?" He asked quietly. "So Michelle gets the hint that I’m not interested?" He needed a buffer, and Y/N being up close to him would probably do the trick. "Please?" He added, using his puppy dog eyes to his advantage.

Y/N obliged, standing up from her seat and following Harry to the bar. As they stood side by side, she leaned into his arm slightly, making it look like they were engaged in a conversation. Michelle, noticing it quite quickly, sauntered back over to the bar, looking miffed. "Harry, can I talk to you for a minute?" She asked, trying to insert herself between them. Harry wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist lightly, pulling her closer. "Not really the best time. M’in the middle of something.”

Y/N could take a hint, looping her arm around him in turn, leaning her face against his shirt. Giving a light smile, as a response to the woman who seemed weirdly annoyed that a man that had nothing to do with her was so close to another woman. “We’re gonna leave soon, so maybe you guys can talk another day.” It wasn’t exactly catty, but it was an insinuation that they’d be leaving together. 

Michelle could put things together and make up her own mind. They could deal with that gossip later.

Michelle's face dropped, clearly not expecting such a casual display of familiarity between them. Harry felt Y/N's head resting on his chest and almost lost his breath for a second - it felt more natural than it should have. Her slight weight against him made his arm circle around her waist more securely, and he tried to focus on maintaining his composure instead of how good she smelled right now. "Yeah..." He said to Michelle, letting the word trail off as if he couldn't even be bothered with her now. "I'll catch you later."

As they stood there, Y/N's hand found its way to his back, her fingers running over the fabric of his blazer and then his dress shirt underneath. It was a simple, casual gesture, but it sent a jolt of warmth through Harry's entire body. He felt like he was melting, his arm around her waist tightening slightly as he tried to subtly pull her closer. Her hand felt so small and warm against his back, and he found himself leaning down slightly to nuzzle his face into her hair, breathing in her scent. “S’this okay with you?” He was double checking for her assurance. “Don’t want you to feel like you have t’make yourself uncomfortable for me.”

Michelle had walked away and Y/N didn’t feel the need to pull away. As nerve wracking as it was, she tried to push them off as she had felt him relax into her. He was sweet, he really was. This was the Harry under all the layers of peacocking and jokes. The type of man she actually really had begun to like.  “I’m okay.” Tilting her head up to meet his eyes, she gave him a shy smile. “Are you okay?”

"Yeah. M’great, actually." He responded softly, watching her face. God, she was so pretty. Here she was making his stomach flip with one small smile. "You know what would make this a little more believable?" He asked quietly, his voice lower than before. He was testing the waters, really. He had no idea if she'd go along with this. "If I put my hands here." He demonstrated slowly, spreading his hands over her lower back. “S’that good?”

As his hands found their way to her lower back, Y/N could feel the tingling spreading across her stomach and up her chest. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and searching, trying to gauge his expression. His hands felt big and protective on her back, making her feel small and safe. She didn't pull away, instead, she found herself leaning into his touch slightly. "Yeah, that’s... It’s nice." The reply was whispered, hoping he didn’t catch the slight quiver in her breath.

Harry watched closely as she swallowed hard, her eyes flicking down to his mouth briefly. Truthfully he was an idiot for thinking doing this would have no effect on him - here she was making his body react like he was a teenager again. It hadn’t been thought through- that didn’t mean he would stop, though. His thumbs moved slightly, massaging her lower back lightly. He saw her eyes close softly, almost like she was enjoying it.

Unable to resist the temptation, Harry leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing her ear. "You're doing great," he murmured, his voice a low, soft rumble. He couldn't help but notice how perfectly she fit against him, like she was meant to be there. His hands shifted slightly, pulling her a fraction closer. "Michelle's long gone now, but..." He hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. "D’you think we pretend for just a little longer?"

"Mhm," she hummed softly. It was hard not to show that she was borderline giddy at the suggestion. Her hand pressed more firmly against his back, hooking her fingers in his belt loops showing she had no plans to move away anytime soon. Instead, she leaned her head to rest back against his chest. 

The way her body fit against his was doing things to him - things he shouldn't be thinking about right now. Like about how she smelled so good it was making him feel antsy to inhale her scent. 

"How long d'you need?" She asked, her voice soft but steady. A small smile played on her lips as she felt his heartbeat against her ear.

"Just... five more minutes, maybe." He murmured, his voice hoarse. He didn't want to let her go, not yet. Not when she felt this good in his arms. "And then... maybe we could go somewhere quieter? Talk, if you want?" He suggested, his hand slowly sliding up her back and down to her hip. Harry was playing with fire, he knew that, but he couldn't help himself. Not when she was being so sweet, so willing to do this with him. 

“Yeah. You can drive me back to my place. Or yours.” It was a decision in a while that she was going to let him  read into however he wanted. Y/N was welcoming any bit of what could happen. If it was to truly talk somewhere else, or… more. She would be open to it.

The words had him almost losing his breath, his body tightening slightly. He wasn’t sure what he’d imagined her response to be, but it certainly hadn't expected her to suggest that. "So if I said... let me take you home to mine' - you wouldn't have a problem with that?" He asked slowly, his thumbs moving back and forth on Harry lower back possessively. He was trying to read between the lines. Was she being friendly, or was she being flirtatious? Christ, he hoped it was the latter.

“No. No problem with that.” In any other circumstances, she’d be embarrassed with how breathy her voice sounded as she replied to him. His voice was deep and soft just for her, making her feel the heat pooling in her tummy. “You can take me home, Harry.”

His pulse quickened, hope surging through him at her breathy confirmation. He swallowed hard, letting it hit him with how much he wanted this. Wanted her. "Alright then," the answer was spoken, his voice thick with restrained desire. "Let's get out of here."

———-

The drive to his place was silent but tense, filled with unspoken words and heavy glances. As soon as they pulled into his driveway, Harry turned off the engine and looked at Y/N, his eyes searching hers for any bit of apprehension- but he found none. She seemed at peace, if not a little bit happy about the situation, and he wasn’t about to waste any time. Getting out of the car, he walked around to her side, and opened her door for her - a gentlemanly habit he'd picked up and kept up. He led the way to his house, unlocking the door and stepping inside, closing it behind them.

“Did you really want to talk?” Y/N asked, peering up at him from her lashes as she took a step towards him. The foyer of his house was dimly lit, but she could see how intently he was staring at her. “Or did you bring me home to do something else?”

"I had some things I wanted to say, yeah." he admitted quietly, his voice deeper than she had heard it before, similar to how he’d spoken at the bar. There was an edge to it, one that made her feel… exhilarated. "But right now..." His hand found her waist naturally, pulling her into him. "I think there's something else I want more." He paused, his thumb moving in small circles on her hip.

“Yeah?” She whispered back, allowing herself to lean into him. “And what is that?”

"You." The words whispered were cut off before she could respond, pressing his lips against hers in a soft, gentle kiss. It started slow, almost questioning- as if he was waiting for her to pull away. Giving her the chance to do so. But when she didn't, when she leaned into it instead, his free arm snaked around her to pull her even closer. The kiss deepened, becoming a little more desperate as he felt her against him. His fingers tightened on her hip, his other hand coming up to cup her cheek, tilting her head slightly to kiss her more thoroughly.

Y/N melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back just as needy. A small noise escaped the back of her throat, one that he swallowed with his mouth greedily. Her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging slightly as she felt him groan against her lips.

Her fingers in his hair made him feel like he may lose it a little bit. Everything about Y/N called to him, but her knowing what to do without ever being told spurred him on further. Deepening the kiss further, he traced her bottom lip with his tongue and bit back a second groan at what he found. She tasted fucking perfect - sweet and subtle, like honey and peppermint, a tiny hint of her sticky soda from the bar. His own personal new favorite flavor. 

 One hand slid down her back to palm over her ass while the other cradled her face, keeping her exactly where he wanted her, practicing that control he liked to keep. He could feel her heart racing against his chest, matching his own heartbeat- But when she let out the soft whimper against his lips as it seemed like he may pull back, pressing herself closer against him instead?  Harry thought he might lose his mind.

Harry pushed her carefully backwards, taking her with him until she hit the wall. Breaking the kiss, he started to trail his lips down her neck, sucking and nipping gently at her wherever he could reach. "You taste so sweet." He murmured against her skin. "I want t’kiss you everywhere." It punctuated his words with a particularly hard suck on her neck, knowing it would leave a mark- wanting it to leave one- as his hips pressed against hers, letting her feel exactly what she was doing to him.

She gasped, head tilting back to give him better access. Hands fisted in his shirt, she tugged him closer as she felt the hard evidence of his arousal press against her stomach. "Harry," she whimpered, voice shaky. "Bite me." The words were out before she could even think about them, a demand rather than a request. She wanted his mark, wanted evidence that this really happened. Even if it was just for tonight- though she wanted more than just once. “Please? Jus’ a little bit. I want to feel your teeth on my neck.” Her hips rocked forward slightly, seeking friction.

The growl that rumbled in his chest at her words was primal, sending a shiver through her body. "Fuck, you're perfect." Harry murmured before grazing his teeth against her sensitive skin and sinking them into the juncture of her neck and shoulder. He bit down hard, not with the goal of breaking the skin but applying enough pressure that she would definitely have a mark in the morning- just as she requested.

She cried out, arching her back to give him more access as he bit down. He could feel her nails digging into his back through his shirt, pulling him closer as if she was afraid he might stop. "More." Y/N begged, panting heavily. "Harder." What she wanted was  the ache, wanted the reminder on her skin that he was really here, really doing this. "Harry, please..." She whimpered, turning her head to try and pull him into biting her again. "Again."

“I’ve got t’be careful, sweetheart.” He cooed against her skin, nipping underneath the mark he had left. “Do you like the pain, hm? Or do you like the marks?”

Y/N moaned, trying to tilt her head further to give him better access to her neck. "Both," she breathed out shakily, her body tensing as he nipped underneath the mark. "I like the pain because it hurts so good, and I like the marks because they remind me... they remind me you were really here, doing this, not just in my head." She was rambling, but she couldn't seem to shut up as he kept marking her up. "Can you give me another one?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, you can have another one." He crooned, biting down on the same spot on the other side, applying a little more pressure this time. There was doubt in his mind that he could really say no to her, not when she asked him with that tone, those eyes, and the taste of her on his tongue.  He could feel her trembling against him, hear the desperate whimpering sounds she was making. He loved it, loved how responsive she was to him, how easily he could reduce her to a shaking mess. 

"Fuck, look at you..." He murmured, pulling back slightly to admire his handiwork. Sure enough, there were two perfect bite marks on either side of her neck. She looked claimed, marked - and Christ, it turned him on more than anything else. Before she could react, he grabbed her chin, tilting her face up for another kiss. This one was rougher, more urgent than before, his tongue plunging into her mouth. One hand slid down her waist while the other tangled in her hair.

His fingers gripped her hair taut, holding her in place as he kissed her like he was starving for it, for her. His other hand squeezed her ass almost too tightly as he ground himself against her, conveying his mounting desperation without words. Each nip and suck at her lips sent jolts straight to his cock, making him impossibly harder, if that was even possible. He swallowed every whimper and moan greedily, addicted to her sounds.

"Fuck, darling." Harry whispered against her lips as he pulled back to let her breath. His hand slipped into her trousers to get a better handful of her, feeling her hum at the intrusion. All he needed was her warmth, the feel of her on his skin. He could die happy like that, most likely. 

Letting his fingers play with the edge of her panties, he knew he was in some sort of dream. After months of crushing on her, even when he had been failing, he’d dreamt of this. "You're killing me here." His breathing became heavier as he squeezed the soft flesh of her ass, pulling her harder against him. One hand kept her hair tight while the other dipped lower, almost slipping beneath the fabric but pausing uncertainly. "Can I..." he trailed off, waiting for her permission before actually sliding beneath, his voice rough with need. "Can I touch you, baby?"

Y/N let out a shaky breath, nodding almost frantically against his lips. "Yes, please." The reply was a shaking whisper, her heart racing wildly like a little hummingbird. "I want your hands on me, Harry. Anywhere, everywhere." She was so turned on, so desperate for his touch that she couldn't even think straight. His hesitation had only added to her desire, making her want him even more. "Just... please, touch me," she begged, her hips rolling against his in encouragement. "I need it."

"God, you're killing me." He growled softly, picking her up easily by her thighs. Realistically, he had been waiting for this day for ages and he wasn’t going to take her in his foyer- regardless of how badly he was tempted to. Y/N deserved a proper fuck, which included being in his bed. Somewhere she was meant to be. Hopefully one day they’d do it out here, but today was not that day. 

Thankfully there was no protest from his little dove, her legs wrapping around him automatically as he lifted her up, allowing him to walk them towards his bedroom without breaking the kiss. He couldn't get enough of her lips, her taste, anything that had to do with her. Greedy, he was so fucking greedy for anything he could get from her. 

Kicking his door open, he wasted little time dropping her onto his mattress softly, listening to her sweet giggle as she bounced on it. Watching hungrily as her shirt rode up slightly, the deposits of her body revealing more of her stomach. "Off." He ordered softly, unbuttoning his own shirt slowly. "Take your top off." Harry wanted it off. He needed to see her.

She sat up slightly, unbuttoning her blouse slowly, revealing the plain white camisole underneath that had been a layer under the sleeveless top. His eyes were locked onto her hands, watching intently as she revealed more and more of her silky skin. "Now the cami." He urged, his voice dropping lower as he unbuckled his belt, his mind desperate to see the heaven underneath.  His unbuttoned shirt tossed haphazardly onto the floor, revealing his tattooed torso. "I want it all off, sweetheart. Don’t want a lick of fabric between you and my hands."

Her hands moved slowly, deliberately, savoring the attention. She lifted the bottom of her camisole, slowly letting it peel off of her body to reveal her bare chest. Her breath hitched as she looked up at Harry, seeing that intensity in his eyes. He was staring at her like she was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen, and it made her feel powerful, desired. Never in her life had she imagined that Harry of all people would be the one to make her feel that way. She let the man stare as he pleased, letting her hair fall off her shoulders from where she had it up as she sat there, completely bare from the waist up.

“Fuck me.” He groaned, hands itching to touch. Holy shit. He had almost lost it. Her body was insane - full breasts with pretty nipples that hardened under his gaze. He had the  urge to taste them, suck on them until she let out the pretty noises he’d gotten hints of - but he didn't move. Harry wanted to see all of her first. "Off, all of it. Told you. Need t’see all of you." He ordered again softly, his voice hoarse with restraint. He watched as she shimmied out of her pants slowly, revealing black lace panties underneath. "Baby," His voice was slightly breathless as she kicked the fabric off, letting it fall in a pile beside his bed. "I think… that you're trying to kill me."

The sight of Y/N naked in his bed almost knocked the breath clean out of him. Here was this incredibly sexy woman, somebody he'd fantasized about for months, laid out before him like a goddamn dream. The soft curves of her body, the smooth planes of her skin, those pretty tits moving in time with her slightly labored breath—it was almost too much. His cock was rock hard, straining against his zipper, aching to be buried inside her. “You are the most gorgeous little thing.” He murmured, undoing the button of his trousers as he stepped closer to her form. “I knew you would look good in my bed, but fucks sake, Kitten.” He reached for her face, tilting her chin up. “Think you were made t’be here.”

As he reached for her face Y/N shifted her mouth, catching his thumb between her soft lips and sucking on it gently. The feeling of her mouth wrapped around his thumb, the subtle tug as she sucked, was incredibly intimate and distracting. Harry's eyes rolled back slightly, a low groan escaping his throat as he stared down at her.

As Y/N sucked his thumb with increasing pressure, her other hand deftly moved to his zipper, tugging it down slowly. The sensation of her hot mouth contrasted deliciously with the cool air hitting his exposed skin. He couldn't help but shudder, his hips rocking involuntarily as his aching erection sprang free. "Holy fuck." he gasped, watching her through hooded eyes. She maintained eye contact, her tongue swirling around his thumb teasingly as her fingers brushed lightly over his straining cock.

He wanted those full lips wrapped around him so badly he ached. He wanted to feel her warm breath against his stomach, the gentle suction around the tip of his cock, the way she looked up at him with those big eyes. "Enough of my thumb. We both know what it is y’really want." He growled, his voice thick as he gently pulled her thumb out of her mouth, smearing her lipstick with the saliva coating his digit as he dragged it over her lip. 

"Think it’s time for you to wrap those pretty lips around something else now." Letting his trousers fall to the floor along with his briefs in one go was exactly what he needed. Hissing slightly, he grabbed his painfully hard dick in his hand and swiped the leaking slit with his spit and lipstick coated thumb, watching her eyes as they took in every motion. “See what you did t’me? Been doin’ this to me for ages, sweet girl.” He mumbled, guiding his cock towards her swollen lips. "Do you want to suck on it

like you were sucking my thumb?"

Y/N looked up at him with those big, doe eyes, her lipstick slightly smudged from the drag of his thumb. She could feel the warm, heavy weight of him in her hand as she wrapped her fingers around his base tentatively. She could already taste the saltiness on her thumb where she had swiped the bead of moisture from his tip. "Can I?" she whispered, parting her lips slightly, inviting him in. "Like this?"

"Fuck yes," he breathed out intensely, watching as those perfect lips parted. His hand moved to the back of her head gently, not pushing, but guiding. "Just like that. Nice n’slow for me." He wanted to savor the moment she took him in for the first time, make sure it felt good for both of them. Her small hand wrapped around his base felt amazing, but he needed more.

Y/N stuck her tongue out slightly, swiping over the tip of his length. He watched hungrily as she gathered the bead of liquid there, tasting him carefully. "Mhm," she hummed softly, wrapping her lips around her teeth to hide her smile. It wasn’t something he had expected but he found it incredibly sexy - she was savoring his taste. Her pink tongue peeked out again, licking over the head like a sweet, swirling around the sensitive underside. Surely it was something he should have expected, but it made him shiver slightly, his hips jerking involuntarily. “Shit. You’re a sweet little thing everywhere, aren’t you darlin’?”

His dirty words made her stomach flutter and her core clench. She liked them too much, especially when they were laced with that deep voice. She dragged the flat of her tongue slowly down his length from base to tip. Taking her time with him was exactly what she wanted. Weeks of getting to know each other, the quiet attraction building until it was too loud to ignore, this had been on her mind more than she could admit yet. His stomach contracted sharply as she did it again slowly, watching him through her lashes. Y/N was putting on a show. 

The woman wanted to drive him crazy, wanted him to bend to her and feel as much as she had.

Harry was losing his mind. His hips were rocking gently, trying to encourage her down further each time she swiped her tongue down. She was torturing him slowly, deliberately - he could see the mischievous glint in her eye behind her lashes. He could feel his orgasm beginning to roll over just from her tongue lathing over him - but she hadn’t even taken him in her mouth yet. "Tease." The groan was loaded as he scraped her hair into his hand, pulling her back up to the tip. “C’mon, sweetheart. Suck on me a bit. Rub your little clit while y’do it. Get yourself wet f’me.”

She let out a shaky breath at his command, slipping one hand between her legs. Her fingers found her clit easily, already swollen and sensitive from all the teasing and tension they had between them. While she circled herself slowly, she opened her mouth wider, letting the tip of his length slide between her lips.  Moaning softly, vibrations pulsing around him as she slowly worked herself with her fingers. 

She was beautiful - eyes closed, lipstick smudged, fingers busy between her legs while she took his cock into that perfect mouth.

Harry knew she was getting wetter just from the sounds she was making around his length as she suckled gently, her fingers busily rubbing herself beneath his watchful eye. The slick sounds of her cunt against fingers, he knew she had to be dripping for him. He wanted to be inside that cunt so badly it hurt, but watching her pleasure herself while she took him into her perfect lips slowly was a blessing he had never anticipated getting the honor of experiencing. The feel of her soft, hot little mouth wrapped up around him, a sensation he had been gagging for. "Deeper, kitten. Y’can take some more while you rub that clit, yeah?” He encouraged hoarsely, his hand carding through her hair.

Y/N hummed around him, taking him deeper. His tip hit the back of her throat and she swallowed slightly around him, making him hiss sharply as she gagged a little. “Shit, baby. Are you alright?” His hand held her cheek, wiping the tear that had spilled accidentally from her gagging. “Didn’t mean t’do that. M’sorry, precious.”

 “I’m okay. Just didn’t anticipate it.” She reassured him, pulling back slightly to catch her breath. A devastatingly beautiful and filthy smile was painted on her slightly swollen lips before she pursed them, wetting him with her saliva and taking him back in. Mindful of his size, she relaxed her jaw and her throat as much as she could, letting him slide further back. Her fingers moved faster between her legs, swirling around her sensitive pearl.

“Yeah, that’s it. Fuck your fingers, Kitten. Get yourself open a bit for me. Need to be in that cunt soon.” He pleaded, eyes rolling back as his tip hit the back of her throat. The noise she let out was filthy, downright nasty, but she didn’t attempt to pull back. She stayed there with her throat spasming around his cock, breathing heavily through her nose. “Oh, for fucks sake… my girl.” He muttered in awe, mouth hanging open. “Should’ve known y’would be a filthy fuck. So quiet and sweet… Read all those dirty books, don’t you?”

"Mhm..." Y/N hummed around him intentionally, pulling back slowly before taking him deep again. Her fingers moved faster, sliding inside herself, stretching herself ready for him. He was big and she knew it was good to get herself ready, but part of her wanted to feel the stretch. She pulled back completely, leaving a trail of saliva along his shaft. “But you like that I’m dirty.”

"I fucking love it." He groaned, feeling his dick pulse as it hit the back of her throat one last time. At this rate he’d be spilling in her mouth sooner rather than later, but they both needed more than that. "Love that you're so quiet and sweet on the outside but a whole different person on the inside." He pulled her head back further, his cock slipping out of her mouth with a wet pop. "Now, get on the bed and spread those legs for me. Need to see that cunt before I fuck it." He demanded, his voice rough as the words tumbled out. "Want you to show me how wet you are for me, sweetheart." His voice was rough, heavy with lust as he gripped his dick in his hand and stroked it using her spit as he watched her get up back onto his bed, laying back in the duvet. "Spread those thighs nice n’wide. Want to see if you're ready for my cock." Harry wanted to taste her pussy, wanted to watch her fingers disappear inside that tight hole. 

He wanted to devour her.

Y/N listened, throwing one leg over the other slowly, spreading herself open for him just as he asked. Using two fingers, she circled her clit slowly, letting her head fall back slightly with a small moan. He watched every movement, feeling  himself pulse in his hand as she slid two fingers inside herself easily, working herself open with a muffled whimper. His mouth watered - she was wet, so fucking wet and all for him.  There was no way in hell that he was going to be inside of her and not keep her. None. 

His jaw tightened as she added another finger, stretching herself wider. The view was his favorite, watching her free hand knead her tits and arching her back as she fucked those fingers in- the lewd sound of her wet cunt making him swallow back his groan. Holy shit.

Her fingers slipped out with a wet sound and she brought them to her lips, sucking her arousal off with a needy whimper. "Please, Harry. Fuck me already." She begged, her hips lifting off the bed restlessly. "Been waiting for this for so long. Need your cock." Her head tilted back and she licked her lips, staring up at him with fuck-me eyes. "Stop teasing and just fuck me already." The desperation in her voice was clear, pussy throbbing and empty, craving him.

It wasn’t at all something anyone would expect from her, let alone Harry. She was so quiet at work, kept to herself, gave her shy little smiles- and here she was. Laying on his comforter, thighs spread as she exposed her cunt to him with the taste of herself on her own tongue, begging for his cock. It was a very quick lesson he was learning- when Y/N asked him for something, he was most likely going to give it to her.

"You're a little minx, Y’know that?" He growled, running his cock through the mess she’d made of herself before lining himself up with her entrance. "This isn't going t’be slow or sweet, sweetheart. We’ll have to save that for another time. You want me t’fuck you?" Pressing the head into her hole, he watched as her back arched off the bed ever so slightly with her hand reaching for his wrist. “S’alright, baby.” Harry softened his tone.” M’just teasing. I’m giving it to you. Just lay there and look pretty. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Pushing forward slowly, he let himself fill her inch by inch. Finally. Feeling the spasms of her cunt as he rocked his hips in, getting nice and snug as he got all the way inside of her, he couldn’t deny himself the moan that left his lips. The heaven that was her cunt wrapped around him had his body feeling hot, each roll of his body feeling her tighten up around him.

"Baby, fuck." He hissed as she wiggled slightly beneath him, her inner muscles clamping down around him experimentally. "Stop that. Don’t want t’cum too quickly." He warned hoarsely, watching her body as he filled her up. The stretch of her pussy around the girth of his cock, lips clinging to him as he pulled out and pushed back in was fucking lethal. There had been effort to slowly work her up to it, but he needed to fuck her harder. Wanted to hear the little gasps and moans coming from her beautiful mouth. "Goddamn. You're tight, baby, So fuckin’ good." He grit his teeth as she flexed again, his hips bucking forward suddenly, watching her tits bounce slightly with the force.

He kept snapping his hips forward, filling her up over and over again, the wet sounds of her taking him filling the room. Y/N’s legs wrapped around his waist as she tried to pull him deeper, her nails clawing at his chest as she whimpered and whined beneath him, breathing heavily as Harry talked lowly to her. "You like it rough, sweetheart. Can feel it. Got you dripping on this cock…" He growled, his hands going to her thighs and pushing them up and back, opening her up wider as he drove into her again and again. "Like being manhandled, bitten… what else?"

"Yes... yes, just like that- I like all of it." She gasped, her voice breaking slightly as he nailed particularly deep. He was definitely the biggest of the dicks she had ever taken and while she had thought it would be a struggle to fit it, Harry hadn’t hesitated in making her take it in the way she needed. Making her feel this full was a rarity and she wanted to feel it tomorrow, feel it everyday. The memory of his cock deep inside of her and his hands gripping her tight needed to be refreshed often and plenty. 

"Harder. I can take it, I promise." She whimpered, her nails digging into his arms, leaving crescent marks. Her hips met his thrusts eagerly, showing she was taking exactly what she wanted. "Talk to me. Love your voice so much." The girl breathed out, her face flushed with the pleasure he was so willing to give her. "Tell me how good I feel."

"You're taking it so well, baby." He cooed, angling his hips differently and hitting a spot inside her so perfectly she let out a choked noise. "Your little cunt is squeezing me so goddamn tight, like it's trying to milk every drop of cum from me." If she wanted dirty, he’d give her dirty. His filthy words echoed in the room as he kept fucked into her, watching her tits bounce before meeting her eyes. 

"Bet you'd let me fuck this needy hole anytime I wanted, hm?” Hooking her thighs over his arms, he looked down to watch her cunt swallowing him up. It was unreal to see it in person, in real time. It wasn’t just a dream. Y/N was in his bed, taking him inside of her- and she was loving it. “Bend y’over your own desk, turn the lights off and shove those scraps do fabric y’call panties into your mouth to keep you quiet. No one would bother us, think you’ve got a headache but… You’d really be taking my cock.”

It was absolutely something she had thought about, especially the last week. Y/N had her own fantasies and he had plucked that one from her head and spoke it out loud. If she wasn’t getting railed it would probably freak her out, how he had somehow read her mind- but it felt too good to think about anything but him inside of her. "You’d really do that? Fuck me on my desk?" She panted, her fingers playing with her hard nipples as he watched. “You said I-I’m the filthy one but you’re just as…just as bad.”

"You’re not answering my question." He chuckled darkly, snapping his hips up sharply and stealing her breath. "If I lifted that skirt up and bent you over your desk… Sunk my cock in this pretty hole. Would you take it?" He growled deceptively soft, his voice getting deeper. "Spread your legs wide, like you’re doing for me right now, and let me pound you while you keep quiet… Make you drip with my cum all damn day? S’that something my pretty little kitten wants t’do for me?" He knew he was dirty, knew he was an asshole - but the mental image of doing exactly what he described had him leaking inside of her.

She threw her head back slightly with a small moan, "Yes, god yes..." She whimpered softly, her mind going crazy with the thought. "You could shove your hand over my mouth while you do it..." Her body tightened around him as the fantasy felt more real. He’d been so polite their whole newfound friendship. Maybe a dirty joke or two to make her roll her eyes. Y/N knew he could be dirty, had a feeling he could fuck, but having it in real life was so different than she had imagined. It was better. "You could pull my hair while you pound me from behind... You could..." She broke off with a gasp as he hit something deep inside her that had her seeing stars.

“I could what, baby?” He crooned, feeling the droplet of sweat slowly drip down the side of his face. This was by far better than any workout he’d had recently. His workout of choice, if he had one. The poor comforter was a goner and he knew it, but there was little care about anything other than getting her to cum around his cock. “S’getting hard to talk now, mm? Taking that cock so deep… Thinking about all those filthy things. M’gonna make sure you get fucked at your desk- Gonna make sure you get whatever fuck you want. But I want to feel you cum for me.” Lowering herself, he adjusted so her legs could wrap back around his hips as he got close to her face. “You‘re so good for me. Sweetest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever felt.” That was no lie. “Been dying to get my hands on you since the very first day, and now m’not going to take them off.”

"Harry..." She whined softly, her body feeling hot and sweaty. Her thighs were slick with her juices mixed with his spit - he had spread them open and spat right onto her hole before pushing back inside. Y/N was getting close, just like he wanted. He had her legs spread wide again, watching every snap of his hips and how her pussy swallowed him. His deep voice was making her brain mushy. "Kiss me- Please?" She whimpered, dragging her nails up his back to hold the hair at his nape.

"Anything you want, baby." His lips crashed down onto hers, swallowing her whimper as he continued pounding into her. The kiss wasn't sweet or gentle - it was hungry and demanding, reflecting exactly how he was fucking her. Having her where he’d wanted her was borderline overwhelming. Finally having her, being able to taste her, feel her everywhere… That was a dream. Y/N was the dream.

 His tongue pushed into her mouth as he hit that perfect spot inside her again and again, pulling back to coax her into it. "C’mon baby. Can feel you so close t’cumming... you're right there.” The croon was heavy against her lips, feeling how she was moving against him, how she clenched around him. It was everything he’d needed. “Gonna fill this dirty little cunt of yours..." His hand moved between them and found her clit, pressing down firmly as he swiped in circles. “S’that okay, baby? Can I fill this pussy up?” His voice broke slightly, kissing her over and over between the words.

She kissed him back frantically, her arms wrapping around his neck as she squirmed with him rubbing her clit. It was too much, his dick hitting that spot, his fingers on her clit, the deep rasp of his voice as he asked if he could fill her up. It was a wet dream, but she knew she wasn’t asleep with how full she felt. Their bodies were damp with sweat, her thighs and his shaft covered in her slick, the throb she felt between her legs- there was no way any dream could make her feel this good. 

"Yes, yes, yes- give it to me. Give it all to me- you’re making me cum." She cried out against his mouth, her body seizing up as her orgasm hit her hard. “Oh my god, m’cumming. I’m cumming, you’re making me cum-“ The frantic words were cut off with a high pitched whine. Her cunt clamped down on his cock as she came, the wet sounds of him fucking her through her orgasm filling the room. "Har- fuck." The garbled moan escaped her as she took it, her nails digging into the back of his neck.

"Good girl, baby…" He praised softly, his voice muffled against her mouth as he kept pounding into her convulsing cunt. "You took it so well… Knew you would, my beautiful fuckin’ girl. Been waiting so long to have you, needed you since I met you." He moaned back, his hot breath washing over her face as he kept his cock filling her, in and out, getting her full over and over. “Soaking that cock… Don’t think I can last.” The feel of how slippery and hot her cunt was, feeling her trying to suck him in deeper, it was too much. He couldn’t hold on much longer.

"Cum inside me, please..." She begged softly, a cooed whisper as she felt him still fucking into her. Sensitivity made her shiver but she didn’t want it to stop- it oddly enough felt good, the little twitches of pleasure. "Fill me up, Harry. I want it all... I want you to cum so bad." She wrapped her arms tighter around him, holding him close as she felt him start to shake. "Give it to me. Let go... I’ve got you."

"You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me." His voice was thick with need, the way she held him close being the final straw. It was unlike what he’d experienced before. Being held that way, coaxed, her soft lips pressing against his sticky skin as she got them as close as possible, it was a new level of intimate he’d never expected from a first time with someone- but it was Y/N. Everything about her was soft and silky, comfort. The sweetest girl with his bite marks on her throat and her legs wrapped tight around his hips, pulling him in deep.

 "Fuck... I'm cumming baby" He groaned thickly, burying himself to the hilt as hot streams of his load filled her. The pleasure nearly made him feel delirious. Heart beating out of his chest, hand curled up in the comforter as his body stayed as close to her as possible. "Oh fuck.” He slurred, grinding into her. “Feel that? Feel my cum flooding your pussy, sweet girl?" The pulses of his cock as he finished made her whine, eyes fluttering as she sought out his mouth to kiss. When his hips stilled, he made sure to keep himself deep, wanting every drop inside her. "S'alright if this is my new favorite place to cum... between those pretty thighs?"

He nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing her in as she nodded with a tired giggle. She was wrapped around him completely, like a vine, running her fingers up and down his spine and her lips finding him when he pulled up from her neck. He let out a happy sound as she pressed kisses to his face before he caught her lips again, humming against them. His body was heavy on top of hers, his softening length still nestled deep inside her warmth. His kisses were gentle and slow, his hands carding through her hair as he held her face close to his, needing to feel her breath against his face. "Love how you smell�� like that peppermint tea y’always drink… and me." He murmured softly against her lips.

She released a soft giggle against his lips, feeling the ticklish slide of his stubble against her cheek. "Now you smell like me too, big guy." Her fingers played with the short hairs at the nape of his neck as she gazed up at him, wrapped around him like a koala.  “But you said some stuff…” She raised an eyebrow as he pulled his face back to look at her. “You had a big crush on me?” Her tone was teasing, a little giddy from the knowledge. “You told me that before but it hits different when you’re balls deep.”

He groaned softly, shaking his head at her teasing as he rolled his hips lazily, feeling how her walls clenched around him. "Smartass." Though he grumbled, there was a fond smile tugging at his mouth. "Yeah well, you had me chasing you for months, sweetheart. Little did you know, every time you told me to go away or that I was being obnoxious, my brain was a constant loop of 'fuck, she's gorgeous.'" He tapped her nose playfully. "So yeah, I had a crush. Have one. But m’not gonna ask you to be my girlfriend properly in this way so… Just know you’re mine, and m’gonna ask you in a far more romantic way for the proper title."

Y/n giggled again, feeling completely giddy and light - post-sex afterglow mixed with knowing he'd pined after her for so long. "Is it weird that you being such a weirdo turns me on?" She admitted with a laugh, running her fingers through his damp hair again.  “You better ask properly...That’s what I deserve." The tone was playful, but there was a dreamy look in her eyes as she thought about what romantic Harry might be like. The woman had vast knowledge of annoying Harry, Office Harry, and Friend Harry… but boyfriend Harry? Well, that made her giddy to think about. "If you ask nicely..." The hum was soft as she lightly pinched his cheek. “I may just say yes.”

“That’s my goal, cause I’m already planning on it.” That had always been his goal, even if he had completely fucked it up and had to start from scratch. Building them up was worth it, though. Having her so close, hearing her giggles, feeling her body warmth? All of that was priceless. “Gonna stock up on all your headache stuff here, too. Make sure you’ve got a stash. Have to make sure you’re taken care of always…” His lips split into another grin. “Even if I’m the cause of your headache.”

[neilsbeloved]

currently thinking about: clark kent flashing you right before you head off for work (18+)

it all started with that damn groan. that type of deep, throaty, guttural groan that you can feel in your core every time clark does it.

most of the time it tells you that clark's just woken up, that he had just finished having some fun on dreamland somewhere.

on rare times, it's an intentional way of getting your attention.

seven in the morning, you woke up, slipped away from bed, cooked enough breakfast for you to bring to work, and for clark to eat later when he wakes up. you two work at the same place—the daily planet—although your job position requires you to be at the planet way earlier than him.

you got ready after preparing your lunch. showering alone and getting ready in the other room—which clark had made specifically to be the office-slash-dressing-room for you considering the mountain of clothing you had even when you two were just boyfriends and girlfriends.

when you head back to your shared room to grab your bag and do some last minute checks for your hair and make-up, you hear that groan from behind you.

at first it was nothing. you greet him a good morning, even asking him how his sleep was—just the usual sweet and gooey stuff you two do as newlyweds. but then clark doesn't respond. at least not in a very appropriate way with the way he's still groaning from behind you.

you turn around confusedly, eyes glaring at your husband who seemed to be storing a wicked idea in that head of his.

"i've already cooked you breakfast, clark, make sure you eat some before you come to work, okay?" you remind him, slinging your bag on your shoulder as you spray on some perfume.

clark hums, running his hand down his firm abdomen. "you leavin' already?"

"uh-huh. tess just called and they need me as soon as possible somethin' about the legalities and stuff… whatever that is. i'll probably just skip over it, y'know how tess gets with those legal stuff," you ramble, clipping on your earrings.

you glance at your husband, his eyes still heavy with sleepiness as he had his one arm stretched behind him, the muscles on his neck and biceps flexing naturally.

there's a dryness in your throat and a wetness in your core just from that view. taking everything in you not to just throw tess' request out of the window and jump on your husband's bones first thing in the morning.

you shake those inappropriate thoughts away, blowing off a breath as you looked at yourself through the mirror.

"i'm off now, baby. go and get off your ass now," you walk over to his side of the bed, originally meaning to give him a kiss on the cheek when he moves his head just in time to catch your lips.

a huff leaves your throat, slapping him lightly on his bare chest as you push him away. "clark, i need to head to the office."

the glint in clark's eyes tells you he's not letting you go that easily but the way he pulls away says otherwise. plastering on a lazy smile on his lips as he nods, telling you i love you in his deep and drowsy voice.

you smile, saying the words back before heading to the door.

before you even turn the knob, you hear him call—groan—your name. the very sound making you stop abruptly, hand tightening on the doorknob.

he calls you again. this time, with a bit more strain in his voice.

"clark, what—" the exact moment you turn around, clark's pulled down the covers just below his knee, his cock springing up tall and proud.

you swallow on nothing. "clark."

"yes, baby?" he tilts his head, voice and eyes innocent, contradicting the way his free hand quickly descended down his body and onto the tip of his hard cock. the sheer size of his cock compared to his already massive hand had you subtly squeezing your legs. "i thought you had to go to work?"

your eyes shoot up at his face, the lazy smirk on his lips telling you he's got you exactly where he wants you—frozen by the door, legs clenched, eyes stuck on the lewd movements of his hand.

you blink. "you're an asshole, y'know that, right?"

"i don't know what you're—" he grunts, adjusting himself on the bed as his chest flexes. his features straining when you see his hand smother the pre-cum leaking on his tip down the length of his cock. "—talking 'bout, sweetheart. i'll… i'll be at the office in a few hours."

you sigh, shaking your head irritatedly as you throw your bag on the pile of clothes on the floor. hands quickly unbuttoning your coat and throwing it away too.

clark grins victoriously, moving to the center of the mattress as you come onto the bed. legs immediately going on either side of thighs.

his big, strong hands grabbing at your hips, massaging the clothed flesh before he pulls up your pencil skirt to bunch at your waist. fingers quickly making their way at your center. he chuckles lightly when he feels your wetness already seeping through the cotton fabric of your panties.

you drop your chest down on his, the fabric of your top scratching against his bare skin. he locks his lips onto yours, hungrily nipping at your bottom lip before you let him in without a fight.

your arm reaches down, grabbing a hold of his cock making him chuckles into the kiss. "i thought you had work to do?"

you roll your eyes, letting him adjust the two of you as he sits up so he can rest his back on the headboard. his knees propped up and legs spread apart, giving you enough room to work with. you pull your panties to the side, already angling yourself on the tip when you feel him hold your body.

"baby, it's gonna hurt," he says, the look of lust on his eyes disappearing for a second as his voice drips of concern. "let me eat you out first, c'mon, it'll be quick. get you all nice and—oohh fuck."

clark's offer was cut short when you sink down on his cock, loud gasps slipping from both of your mouths. you drop forward, head on the crook of his neck as you clutched his shoulders, letting your cunt barely adjust to his size.

"you're such an overachiever," clark clicks his tongue, holding onto your sides. feeling the way your sweet cunt pulses around the length of his cock like its begging for more.

the moment the stinging subsides and pleasure starts registering, your hips get to work.

you use his shoulders for leverage as you bounce on his cock, desperately trying to push yourself over the edge, slowly feeling yourself drip down his cock.

"so good, fuck—so fucking big, clark," you moan, pulling your head up to watch his pleasured face. eyebrows knitted, lips freely letting out low grunts. "did dream about me? dreamt about this pussy?"

"yes, shit, i-i dreamt about this goddamn cunt begging for me," he grunts, shifting his hips just slightly. the change in angle making you gasp, your hands falling down to his pecs.

clark leans forward, kissing up your exposed throat as your eyes rolled back. the tip of his cock finding your sweet spot in a moment, hitting it deliciously with each time you drop your ass on his cock. his teeth sinks onto your clavicle, just enough to have you clenching around him.

his hips thrust up as a response, cock twitching inside of you. loud pleads of his name spilled from your lips. using every bit of your energy to keep your pace steady but it was hard when the ache intensifies with each second.

"still got some energy in you, baby? don't wanna tire you out before you—h-head off to work." clark struggles to get his words out, the pleasure making him close his eyes harshly. pulling you impossibly closer as his arms wrap around you.

"should've thought of that before you showed me your cock, pretty boy," you responded, losing your hands in his hair as your hips stutter.

clark laughs breathlessly, littering kisses all over your face now, probably messing up your makeup—not that you cared.

"sorry baby," one hand drops to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh before landing a loud slap on it. you hiss, clenching around him even tighter. "you just looked so fuckin' good… can't—shit," clark stops to rest his forehead on yours, feeling his climax coming, "so good, baby, riding—bouncing on that goddamn cock like you need it."

"i need it," your voice heightens, the feeling in your core tightening. "i need it so bad, clark, fuck me, please—just give it so me." 

clark's lips pull to a smirk, both hands now on yours ass before he starts helping you bounce yourself on his cock. every inch, every vein that ran through his cock etching itself on your gummy walls like it was field notes.

your moans turn into incoherent begging, clark's name leaving your lips like a damned prayer as clark himself struggled to keep his moans in.

he continued helping you up and down his cock, meeting your cunt with thrusts of his own. the walls shaking with how harsh he's driving himself into you. he's gripping your ass tightly, cock twitching as you clench uncontrollably.

"don't stop, don't stop—right there! o-oh! clark!"

"yeah? right there, baby?" clark watches as you drop one hand to your chest, fondling yourself shamelessly whole he focuses on fucking you even deeper—harder.

when he feels your legs twitch, threatening to close around his body, he knows for a fact you're close.

clark takes one hand away from your ass and slides it over your slit, expertly finding your clit as he begins to rub messy circles on the bundle of nerves.

you scream, finding every nerve on your body on fire. clark's name bouncing off the walls like a cry for help while clark desperately groaned yours. the lewd sound of skin on skin slamming against each other filling your ears.

one more thrust from clark on that spot and you're spilling hopelessly all over his cock, stars appearing in your eyes as you shook on top of him. shortly after, you feel him slow down, letting you work down your high as you feel his own come paint your insides. the feeling made you moan deeply, your body stiff and eyes rolled back.

clark rolls his hips, kissing all over your cheeks and forehead as he leans back on the headboard. his hands intertwining with yours as he takes you in for a warm kiss—a stark difference from the way he was moving a few seconds ago.

"that was…" clark's breathless, chest heaving up and down. "…wow."

your eyes peel open, clark's fucked-out eyes and disheveled hair making you clench around his length one more time.

"you're driving me to work." you tell him, jabbing a manicured on his chest.

clark laughs when you get off of his lap, your knees nearly giving out, almost falling to the wooden floor if not for clark quickly holding your waist with one hand.

he gives your ass one more slap before he gets off of the bed, towering over you with a lovestruck smile.

"yes, ma'am."

(yes, this is inspired by one of those tiktoks where someone flashes their partner right before they head to work)

[sweetpascal]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 — 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐱

pairing: perv!stepdad!joel x fem!reader

summary: only one more day remains in the week before your mom returns home. your feelings for joel have deepened, and he's aware of it; it's evident to him. he's tempted to maintain his distance, yet he can't deny that you've become the most captivating presence in his life.

warnings: MINORS DNI. DUB-CON. NON-CON. big age gap [18/52], pussy inspection, fingering, forced squirting, pussy pronouns, joel "just the tip" miller turns into joel "i'll make it fit" miller, TW: light vaginal bleeding, belly bulging, reader is considered petite in height and body type, two (2) pussy spanks, missionaryyyy, choking, finger sucking, dacryphilia, joel is a dirty nasty old man okay, he's a meanie, phone sex (again, joel is REALLY fucking nasty), dirty nicknames (daddy's whore, daddy's bitch), this is all in joel's pov

wc: 7.6k

notes: this series literally would have been HALTED for a while if it weren't for @taeslarityy helping me with brainstorming and constructing how i should continue this chapter. cause pookies, i was stumped. i had no motivation for this series--until yasi and her lovely fucking brain gave me a kick in the ass and got me back up again 🥹🛐 also, i'm genuinely so disappointed in this chapter. it's been such a long wait and halfway through writing, i've deleted it so many times. and even now, i'm so unhappy with the outcome cause i feel like i just rushed through it and forced myself to finish it :(( but hey, one more chapter left. 🩷

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As Joel wakes up in the morning, he senses immediately that something is amiss. He sits up with a hoarse grunt, feeling his lower back muscles pinch and pull. Rubbing his eyes to clear the blurriness, he notices an absence of warmth. The night before, he recalls carrying you to the bedroom, the very one he has shared with your mom for years. He remembers laying down, letting your trembling body curl into his, and gently hushing you to sleep. Now, he's greeted by the cold, empty space in the bed where you slept, mocking him with its emptiness.

In an instant, a surge of panic and fury overwhelmed him, fueled by the thought that you had left without telling him again. The doors unlocked, his car taken, driven wherever your little heart desires. The house's silence confirmed his suspicions of your departure. However, as he swung his legs off the bed, he halted, spotting the small figure curled up on the floor, mere feet from where he lay.

Joel's breath catches in his throat as he approaches, seeing your small form turned away from him. The gentle rise and fall of your shoulders assure him you're still breathing, alleviating his fear that something terrible had occurred. Yet, he can't help but wonder what prompted you to shift away from him to the ground while he was asleep. Were you scared of him? Did you witness or overhear the incident with your friend? Joel kneels down and places a tender hand on your shoulder.

"Baby?" he whispers, careful not to startle you. "Come on, honey, time to wake up." He gives your shoulder a firmer shake, chuckling softly as you respond with a sleepy murmur.

As you begin to wake up, the only sensations are the ache in your neck from the awkward position and an intense coldness. You chose to leave Joel's warmth after coming to the realization that you didn't deserve the comfort and coziness of sharing a bed with him. Joel had taught you not comfort and warmth, but pleasure and pain. You didn't want to start the day being a bad girl for him.

"The hell you doin' on the floor, baby?" Joel couldn't help but laugh when you spring up, nearly cracking your head against his chin. "Hey, hey, easy." The sternness in his voice had you calming down.

A moment of silence enveloped you, allowing full consciousness to take hold. With a soft whimper, you nestled closer to Joel, your nose comfortably tucking in just beneath his jawline, feeling the steady rhythm of his pulse against your skin. He pulls you onto his lap and leans back against the bed, comfortably stretching out his legs to hold you closer to his chest.

"You want to tell me why you were on the floor?" he asks quietly, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as you squirm in his hold, desperate to feel some of his warmth.

Joel feels you shrug under his hands. "I dunno," you say so softly that he has to strain his good ear to hear you properly. "I didn't want you to wake up and see me next to you. And... I didn't want to be a bad girl by staying in your bed. I-I think on the floor is better for me."

Joel is caught off guard by the response; it's not what he anticipated. He thought you would be fearful of him and would seek to keep a distance, yet remain within reach. As you look up at him, a slight widening of his eyes occurs, your lashes fluttering and the innocent smile on your lips hinting that if heart-shaped pupils were real, they'd appear in your eyes every time you looked at Joel. He doubts how much longer he can ignore this feeling before it inevitably consumes him. It's gnawing at his insides, twisting and pulling with force. It's a familiar sinking sensation, one he's experienced too often. But now, as you gaze at him with a doe-eyed look on your innocent face, Joel realizes he's in too deep. He's got you hooked, which was his intention, but now you're too hooked. He's searching for an escape. He needs a way out. The voice in his head is screaming, growing louder, louder, LOUDER.

Get out, Joel. Get out. Get the fuck out. Run. Don't get too close. Don't let her fall too deep. Run. Run. Run. Make it hurt. Ruin in. Ruin her. Make her hurt. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out.

"Daddy?"

The sound of a soft voice causes his eyes to fly open, not recalling the moment they had closed. The voice fades away, leaving silence behind. He senses your presence; your skin, your weight, your gentle breath against his neck. You are all he perceives. Yet, this incites anger within him. The sensation is overpowering, his skin grows warm as the walls seem to draw nearer. Joel's breath quickens. Disregarding the concern on your face, he chooses to shut his eyes once more, withdrawing his hands from you to form tight fists.

"Daddy?"

Once more, it's your voice, yet softer and fainter. Joel's jaw tightens, and he grinds his teeth while your voice sears through his ear canal, coiling throughout his brain and delving deeper into the membrane. He tries to steady his breathing, but flashes of your body, bruised and battered, eyes fearful with tears, pussy leaking all over his cock show up behind his closed eyes like a slideshow, and it's as though he was suddenly injected with a drug directly into his veins. His breath steadies and his hands relax. Joel's eyes open to a half-lidded gaze, emotionless as he stares back. He understands the necessary actions; it's for the best. He won't let himself become entangled in any feelings you may harbor towards him.

That's not who he is, nor who he will ever become.

It has been exactly sixteen hours, thirty-two minutes, and forty-eight seconds since the last time Joel has kissed your lips. His body is aching to feel their plush softness and subtle sweetness. To feel them wrapped around his thick cock, tightening all around and swallowing down his cum. To feel them pressed into his neck as you struggle to keep in your little whimpers of sinned pleasure as you fall apart on his fingers. Joel can feel the monster within him, howling and screeching to be released.

He can't.

He won't.

Joel confronts the intricate desires he diligently avoided. Their abrupt emergence, without a moment for him to brace himself, leaves him feeling disarrayed and distant from the man he strived to become. The facade he maintained for years has dissipated. Gone is Joel Miller; the husband, stepfather, boss, and big brother. Now, there was Joel Miller; pervert, predator, stepfather that creeps on his wife's daughter, violator. All the things he has desperately tried to hide away, he now became.

The haunting is relentless, day after day. Living in the same house as the person who evokes such darkness is excruciating. He feels akin to a caged animal, circling endlessly, biding time for an opening to pounce on any unsuspecting individual. Joel is convinced that the only escape from this torment is to confront it head-on. He knows. He also knows it's sick and disgusting, but it excites him unlike anything else. He enables it.

Joel watches from afar, conscious of the negative impact his behavior has had on you today. He notices your fidgeting and the way you quiet down when his glare falls upon you. Your averted gaze and pouted lips communicate all he needs to understand. This experience is as torturous for you as it is for him. Nonetheless, the voice persists, refusing to be silenced. This withdrawal seems to only fuel its anger, making it more aggressive and deafening. It's pushing Joel to the brink of madness.

You had to have known what you're doing to him. Joel firmly believes that you're being a fucking tease on purpose, wearing your soft sleep shorts and paper-thin camisole tank top. When you bend down, Joel could see how your shorts tighten around the shape of your ass and pussy lips, giving him a tasteful view of camel toe, and if he looks any closer, he could possibly see a wet spot on the fabric. He knows what you're doing, whether you know it yourself or not. It's like your body calls out to him, begging to be defiled, begging to be touched by his perverted hands. Whether you know it or not, you need him as much as he needs you.

The house is enveloped in silence. Joel has not uttered a single word for several hours. The quiet has persisted from morning until late afternoon. Nursing a beer, he attempts to divert his mind and avoid being overwhelmed by thoughts of you, his stepdaughter. The task was proven to be the most difficult he's ever had to endure considering the fact that you took a seat beside Joel on the couch and now, you won't stop fucking moving.

It would be a minute of stillness. Then, you would huff and shuffle in your seat, bare thighs brushing against Joel's jean-clad thigh. It was clockwork. Every time he tilted his head back to take a gulp of his beer, your movements jostled his side. With each sip, he grunted and nudged you roughly with his elbow, trying to push you away, yet you edged closer after each shove.

"Enough," Joel grunts for the umpteenth time, opting to use his hand this time to shove you away, albeit harder than the rest. "Sit your ass over there and give me some fuckin' space."

He notices your trembling lips and the tears brimming in your eyes. With a deep sigh, he pinches the bridge of his nose. All he desired was to savor a beer in the afternoon without your tears for every mistake he made, yet he realizes it was a situation he brought upon himself. Evidently, he has managed to reduce you to a state of dependency. Now, it was time to break you down even further until you can no longer cry, only accept your fate.

"Alright," he sighs once more, taking a sip of his beer before turning to you. "What's goin' on? Hm? Why is so goddamn important that you have to be glued at side?" Joel didn't intend to come off as harsh, but his nerves were ablaze, everything was humming, his clothes felt constricting, and the thought of your mother lingered in his mind, an unsettling presence.

He notices you curled up, knees drawn to your chest and arms encircling them. Resting your chin on your knees, you cast him a nervous glance. Joel lifts his eyebrows and gestures with his hand, urging you to speak. He understands that your attachment to him isn't your doing; it's precisely what he desired. Yet, he can't deny the thrill he gets from your reliance on him. Knowing that he's the one you yearn for fills him with a smug satisfaction, inflating his ego immensely.

A young, pretty little thing like yourself eager to please a dirty old man like him.

Clearing your throat in the softest way possible, you tell him, "I've been getting that feeling again... down there. And it won't go away no matter how many times I try to think about something else. I need your help to make it go away, Daddy. Please, help me." The last sentence comes out as a whisper, almost like a secret you're trying to keep for yourself, but Joel heard every word.

Looking at you right now, his sleezy eyes swallow every inch. His fingers twitch on his lap as his hand tightens around the neck of the beer bottle. There's a warmth stirring in his gut. His jaw tensed and clenches as he tries to fight off the sexually violent images of you in his mind.

With the way you're staring at him, Joel knows what has to be done.

That's where he has you now, laid out on his and your mom's shared bed, bare naked and trembling, silky thighs spread wide open with your hands under the crook of your knees to keep them that way. Joel is kneeling between them, clad in only his jeans, his shirt long gone. He's staring down at you like a feral wolf waiting for the perfect moment to attack the pathetic bunny cowering in a tree stump. His mouth waters as he thinks about sinking his teeth into your flesh and drinking your sweet blood. His hands tremble as they start to stroke along your inner thigh, savoring the way you tremble under his fingertips.

"She's just drooling for me, ain't she?" Though the question was rhetorical, you still nod. Joel grins and lets out a deep chuckle before biting down on his bottom lip as his thumbs get closer to your sweet pussy.

He knows he's teasing at this point. The little flutters your pussy gives him tells him all that he needs to know. He only wonders how far he'd have to go for you to finally crack and lose composure. A pearly drop of slick slowly pools out of your hole and slides down to your other tight-ringed hole. Joel catches it with his thumb and gently swipes it up to your clit before pulling his thumb away, a string of arousal connecting from the fingertip to your clit. He sees you glancing down at it as he shows it off to you with a sadistic grin on his face.

"You see that?" he whispers, his plush lips parting as he continues swiping through your slick, subtle wet noises colliding with the sounds of your heavy breathing. "So messy down here, honey girl."

Joel's dick thickens underneath the two layers he wears on his bottom half. The throbbing is constant, his heavy balls pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He's surprised the button of his jeans hasn't popped open. With one hand, he unbuttons and slides down the zipper agonizingly slow. Your eyes are on his hands the entire time. Joel lets out a quiet laugh when his hardness forces the zipper to slide down the rest of the way on its own.

With his cock comfortably breathing, both hands are now back on your inner thighs, thumbs still close to the lips of your pussy. With gentle movements, he uses his thumbs to spread apart your lips to get a better look of your sopping hole. Pearly strings connecting from one lip to the other, your pretty labia spreading open like a blooming flower, your swollen clit throbbing for attention. Joel is in awe and falls into a hypnotized state the more he stares at your fully exposed pussy. His fingers are curious as they stroke along your lips, further dampening the light dusting of hair that keeps your mound warm and protected.

Joel eagerly listens to every little noise you make. His movements are torturous, and he knows he's being mean by not giving you what you asked for. The little trembles of your thighs and your weak moans when his fingers purposely avoid your aching clit. His lips part and he can feel drool at the corners. Licking it away, Joel continues to trace your pussy lips with his thumbs, further observing the clenching and unclenching of your non-stop dripping hole.

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath, fingers catching the slick repeatedly to avoid it wasting onto the bedsheets. In a louder voice, he says in a smug tone, "She jus' won't stop leakin' everywhere."

Joel's mind is reeling the more he inspects your dripping pussy. He can practically taste you on his tongue. A husky, low growl escapes from his chest before he could stop it. He can hear that voice again, feel those claws sinking into his shoulders from behind. The rattling of the cage gets louder and more violent. Joel's eyes shut as fast as his hands left your body as he tries to shut out that dark voice coaxing him to do more damage. He lets out another low growl and shakes his head to himself.

"Daddy?" he hears your sweet whimper fill his ears. "Make it go away."

Joel wants to make it go away. He wants to make everything go away. He needs to or else this feeling won't stop. It'll only get stronger and stronger the more time passes. He knows what has to be done. Then, silence. He opens his eyes, his breathing heavy and labored. The two of you make eye contact, and Joel feels like his heart is about to burst through his chest from how hard and fast it's beating.

Without another word, his middle finger slowly sinks inside your pussy, your tightness sucking him deeper. There's a steady trembling in your thighs as you fight to shut them. Joel's thumb strokes your swollen clit in firm, tight circles. He crooks his finger and lays his free hand across your mound and applies pressure, pinning you between his palm and the mattress.

"What..."

He knows what you're about to ask, but he doesn't let the question slip from your lips before he's fucking his middle finger in and out of your pussy while simultaneously curling his finger against your spongy pleasure spot, all the while pressing down above your mound and rubbing your clit. The wet sloshing of your wetness being spread all around his finger, palm, and your thighs is an embarrassing noise that has you covering your face. For some reason, that pisses Joel off.

"Look at me!" He practically yells and yanks his finger out of your pussy to land a hearty smack directly over your clit. The loud smack has you yelping and squeezing your thighs together as you yanked your hands away from your face to look at Joel with a pained expression.

He shoves your thighs open with brutal force and shoves his middle and ring fingers inside your pussy this time, the tightness increasing from the sudden intrusion. You let out a louder yelp and reach down to grab his arm with both hands, but Joel slaps them away like he would an annoying mosquito. He moves his hand with vigor, fucking his fingers up against that one spot that makes you leak and shake. There's an abundance of wetness that splatters all over your inner thighs and on Joel's palm. His tongue tingles to clean up your sticky mess.

"Goddamn, you're so fuckin' wet, babydoll," he groans filthily, forcing himself to look between your legs. His calloused fingers are shoved so deep inside your pussy, the same ones that have been inside your mother numerous times. Joel is a disgusting man for the satisfaction he feels, knowing that these are the same fingers that have made your mom cum. And now, he's going to make you, his stepdaughter, cum on them in the same way.

Joel presses down onto your pelvis as he keeps the heel of his palm against your clit to apply delicious pressure. He moves his hand up and down rather than forward and back. He can feel his fingers stabbing at the ribbed spongy spot repeatedly, the wet sloshing growing louder the faster he does it. Your moans are garbled and stuttering from his unrelenting pace.

"That's it, babydoll," he grunts quietly, biting down on his bottom lips as he fights to slide in a third finger. If he's going to open up that pussy any further, it's going to be around his cock.

"Stop, stop, stop," you squealed and kicked your legs, trying desperately to pull your body away from his fingers. "I have to pee!"

Joel goes harder and faster, his palm practically slapping against your clit in time with his fingers. The final moan you let out was demonic, of some sort. It didn't sound like it was coming out of a teenage girl, but more from a deranged older woman. Then, a stream of wetness splashes out and splatters all across Joel's forearm and onto the bed sheets. It was fucking never-ending. Your pussy keeps sucking in his fingers, fluttering all around his knuckles. He pulls his fingers out and lands another smack onto your pussy, paying extra attention to your needy clit.

He knows what he has to do. He knows what has to be done.

He rests heavily on top of your body, one forearm planted on the bed beside your head as the other moves between your bodies to lower his jeans and his boxers, not quite shaking them completely off. You're still trying to catch your breath, not exactly understanding what it was that just happened, what it was that you just felt, and why it felt so good. Joel can see it in your eyes, the unspoken questions on the tip of your tongue. He hushes you softly, his lips just a hair away from yours.

"Daddy's goin' to do the tip again, okay? Just the tip, babydoll, I promise," his voice is quiet and soft, his breath tickling your lips like a kiss from the wind.

He doesn't care enough to hear your response or to see if you want to do this or not, but he's already pressing his tip against your sticky hole and pushing inside. Joel's hoarse grunt was muffled as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, his big, heavy body sagging further onto yours. His hips slowly move forward and forward and back, fucking his mushroomed tip in and out of your eager hole.

"Oh, my God," your sweet little whimpers whispered in his ear as Joel's hips continued their steady pace. "Too...much." Your voice is clouded with a tinge of pain as he fucks an inch deeper, and then two inches deeper. "Daddy... Daddy, s-slow down!"

Joel's mental state is clouded with depraved lust, pleasure, and ecstasy. His cock sinks deeper. His vision is cloudy, and your voice sounds far away as your pussy sucks him in. He finds himself shutting you up by slapping a big hand over your mouth and pressing some of his weight down onto it. Joel's head lifts up, and he's inches from your face. Your eyes are wide and filled with tears, one hand grabbing onto his shoulder as the other desperately grabs onto his forearm.

"You can take some more," he breathes heavily, his beer-laced breath causing your eyes to flutter shut as you fight to pull away from his face, but Joel clamps his hand down tighter against your mouth, pinning your head down onto his pillow and constricting your movements.

The figurative crate in the recesses of his mind is rattling violently, the voice inside escalating, almost yelling for Joel to let go and inflict pain. This is the necessary action. It's a now or never situation. His skin turns scorching, almost too hot to touch. Every sense is inundated by your presence. Time has run out. The voice is reverberating in Joel's mind, fully taking control.

The chains are gone. The beast has awoken. He is free.

A small scream against Joel's palm has him breaking free from the darkness that has taken over. He's sure he looks feral right now. The widening of your eyes showcases terror. Joel glances down and notices that his cock is now halfway inside your pussy. He doesn't remember sliding his hips deeper into yours. He feels how tight you've gotten, your pussy almost begging for him to not go any further.

"Look at that," he mumbles to himself, pulling his cock two inches out and seeing the tiniest smear of blood around the thick base. "Seems like this little pussy can't all of me, huh?" Joel leans back down, laughing right in your face as he pushes his cock back inside. You're kicking at the back of his thighs with the heels of your feet now, trying to shake your head at him, but he tightens his hand once again. "Don't worry, honey girl," he grunts breathlessly. "Daddy will make it fit."

And with that, Joel reels his hips back and slams the last few inches into your pussy, hearing with glee as your breath gets caught in your throat and your eyes cross and roll into the back of your head. The rhythmic push and pull of your cunt tightening around his cock had his heavy balls throbbing as heat builds stronger in the pit of his stomach.

Joel groans huskily, lowering his heavy body onto your own and slowly moving his hips forward and back, pulling out shallowly and pressing in deep. He makes sure you feel every single inch.

"Feel how deep I am in your tummy, babydoll?" he breathes heavily, his tongue thick in his mouth as his throat suddenly feels dry. Joel can feel his senses slipping as he loses control. He's been waiting for this day for months, and now that he finally has it, he doesn't want to let it go. This whole power dynamic went straight to his head, further inflating his already massive ego. Feeling your virgin cunt being deflowered around his cock was unlike anything he's ever felt.

Your eyes are blurry with thick tears that roll down your cheeks and slide along Joel's fingers. He pulls out again, slowly pushes back in, and repeats the process until the light smearing of blood disappears. He gruffly hushes you and pulls his hand away to shove two thick fingers into your mouth.

"Attagirl," he mumbles to himself as he obscenely pushes down on your tongue to widen your mouth. "Show me what that tongue can do." He slides his fingers forward and back along the pink muscle, mimicking the motions of his hips. He goes as far as to shove his fingers towards your uvula to make you gag. Drool slides down the corners of your lips as strings of spit crudely connect from your tongue to Joel's fingers.

He grins wolfishly. Oh, this is going to be fun. To have you under his body, cunt squeezing and choking his cock, knowing that you will forever live with the moment of your disgusting stepdad taking your virginity. Joel doesn't give a flying fuck on how this is going to affect any future relationships you might have with another man. Right here, right now, you belong to Joel. You know it, he knows it. Within the walls of the bedroom he shares with your mom, you belong to him whether you liked it or not. He's going to take, take, take, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Joel lifts the bottom of his shirt to watch the hypnotizing sight of your swollen pussy repeatedly sucking him in. Virgin blood was now replaced with that sticky slick he grew to love over the last few days. The sopping wet sounds of his hips smacking into yours, your stickiness covering his thick, dark pubic hair and happy trail. Joel looks up to watch your face as he starts to really fuck you. With one hand still trapped between your lips, he uses those fingers to hook behind your bottom teeth and force your head down as his other hand cups the back of your head to grab your hair in a fist. Yanking your head down, you're forced to watch his girthy cock violate your pussy for the first time.

"You fuckin' see that?" Joel pants heavily, his own lips parted to let out a few strained grunts. "See how your little pussy sucks me right in? You see that shit, right?" He sounds too cocky for his own good, but he has every right to be. Your mom was never wet enough or tight enough for him. Having her daughter nearly drowning his dick and choking the life out of it was an accomplishment he'll proudly wear like a medal of honor.

"Daddy," you called out to him, but a garbled, drooly mess came out from his fingers still hooked behind your bottom teeth. "Aaahhgghh!!" The next moan was practically punched out of you once Joel started to put some weight into his next few thrusts.

"Thaaaat's it," he has the audacity to laugh at the sudden reaction he pulled from your trembling body. "She's feelin' it now, ain't she?"

More tears spilled down your cheeks, and Joel's depraved sense of self forced him to swipe his spit covered fingers across the wetness to shove back into your mouth, forcing you to taste your tears on your tongue. The tiny moan you tried to hide wasn't ignored. Joel knows you want to let loose and enjoy what he's giving you, but he remembers what's going to happen if you enjoy it too. He can at least make it hurt just for a little, right?

Pulling his hands completely away from your head and face, Joel places them into the crook of your knees to force them to your chest, further spreading you open and giving him more room to work with. Joel doesn't bother to double check if the positioning is comfortable before he's driving his hips so fast and deep against yours, not even giving you time to breathe between each violent thrust. His head tilts back, his grin widening as he hears your pained yelps, feeling your hand desperately grabbing onto his forearms and scratching your nails down his skin, no doubt leaving deep marks.

"This is what a man's dick feels like," he grunts ferociously like a wild beast. "Quit your fuckin' whining and take this dick. Fuckin' take it. Take it. Take it." Joel's fucking you like a madman now, balls so heavy and filled with cum, smacking against your lightly bruised ass cheeks. Your wetness is splattering all over his jeans and your inner thighs. He glances at your face and sees the expression you wear--eyes rolled back and mouth open to let out ungodly noises.

Fuck, you're really enjoying this. No matter what Joel does, you're going to like whatever he does either way. He's tainted you. He deflowered you and rotted you inside and out. You're no longer that sweet, innocent girl he helped his wife raise. No longer did you have that girl-next-door personality. You were his little experiment, his naive toy to play with when he got bored of your mom and needed something new and young. He's in too deep, literally and figuratively. Your dripping wet pussy tightening around his girth has Joel coming back down to reality.

"Jo-oel! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!!" Your little squeals were music to his ears. The noises his cock was forcing out of you were ones you tried to keep hidden, but the pleasure was too intense to keep quiet about. "Right there!! Ri-ight... there!!"

Then, a shrill ringtone fills the room. Joel's back pocket is vibrating, and his hips freeze as if he were being held in a stickup. With his cock still so very deep inside, he glances down and sees a visible bulge in your stomach. He can faintly map out the shape of his mushroomed tip. He pulls out and pushes in again, completely hypnotized with the sight of your belly bulging from his massive cock. You seem transfixed on it as well, your own lips parted in wonder and eyes wide in awe. The phone rings again. Joel hisses a curse under his breath and reaches into his back pocket.

"It's your mom," he gruffly tells you and leans in close to point a finger in your face. "Not a single sound, you hear me?" His heart is pounding as if he ran a marathon. He's nervous, there's no lie there. Thankfully it's not a face call, but still. Joel can't shake the feeling away as he swipes his thumb to answer the call.

"I called you twice. Why didn't you answer the first time?"

Joel rolls his eyes immediately and tries to steady his breathing. Of course, no hi, hello, nothing. She had to go straight into getting on his case about not answering fast enough. His patience was wearing thin. He had half a mind to lay his cards out on the table and tell her he was too busy fucking her daughter to care.

"I was takin' care of a little problem I was havin', honey." Joel lets out a strained moan when your pussy clenches around him accidentally. He shoots you daggers, his glare burning into your skin as you hastily cover your mouth with both hands when he retaliates by shoving his dick so deep into you, it causes the stomach bulge to return.

"Oh, yeah? Well, what if I was dealing with the same problem?"

Her voice dropped into a sultry tone, and Joel's eyes rolled once again before he glanced down between your bodies. He uses his free hand to splay across your mound to rest his thumb against your swollen clit. He traces faint circles around the pearl, relishing the twitch in your thighs and your labored breathing.

"Yeah? You wanna do it together while I still have time?" Joel's hips start fucking into you again, slow and deep, just how you like it. He almost sounds bored when he talks to your mom, but his eyes are wild and filled with want as he stares at your wanton expressions.

"I miss your dick, Joely. Ugh. I need it."

Her moans turned Joel off, especially with that stupid fucking nickname she always called him. The sound of your shaky breathing and warm, wet, tight cunt soaking him brought him back to the present. He can block out your mom's voice and focus on what he's providing you. With one hand keeping the phone pressed to his ear, his other hand bats your hands away from your mouth and instead possessively holds onto your throat as he starts fucking you with rhythm.

"You jus' like this dick too much, don't you? Can't fuckin' live without it," he's making eye contact with you as he talks to your mom. He makes sure that you know he's talking directly to you. With his big hand firmly holding onto your throat, he can feel your skin becoming warmer as the eye contact causes you to fluster.

You nod as best as you can, his hand tightening around your throat to cut off any sounds you were about to make within a few seconds. The steady thwack of his hips against yours could be mistaken for his fist around his own cock to your mom. Joel makes sure to not sound suspicious in the way he's talking. Though he's speaking more to you, he doesn't want to use any of the words reserved for you to be used on your mom. Having her figure out what's been going for the week that she's been gone is not what Joel needs right now. What he needs is to fuck you stupid, doesn't matter if your mom is cockblocking him in the process.

"That's right, honey," he mumbles into the receiver, but loud enough for you to still catch on to his slurred words. He tosses you a wink, pressing his fingers deeper into your throat as he fucks you faster. "Takin' this fuckin' dick so good, huh? Only thing you're good for is takin' this fuckin' dick." He growls the last two words, your moans garbled and incoherent and strained from the pressure around your throat.

Joel takes the hint to release your throat and allow you to get a few gulps of air once he realized you were on the verge of passing out. He shoves his middle and ring fingers into your mouth, forcing you to lick along his gold wedding band. Joel puts the phone on speaker and lays it beside your head on the pillow. He puts a finger to his lips and carefully maneuvers your legs onto his shoulders. There's really nothing like half-assed phone sex with his unassuming wife while he fucks her teenage daughter on the other line.

How stupid of both of them, being hassled by the same man for entirely different reasons. Joel is a disgusting, sick man. But God, if it doesn't make his dick rock hard right now. He knows he can't be stopped, and that's the fun part of all of this. No matter how hard anybody tries, Joel is going to keep doing this over, and over, and over again.

"I can't wait for you to fuck me again, baby. Ugh! I need it."

Joel looks deep into your eyes as he grinds nice and slow into your leaking cunt, your swollen clit crushed against his pubic hair with his balls pressed firmly between your ass cheeks. In a husky voice, all while maintaining eye contact, he tells your mom into the phone, "I'll fuck you nice and good, honey. I'll fuck you so good, I'll ruin every other man for you."

And with that, he gives you a kiss that was all tongue, teeth, and spit, all the while your mom's exaggerated moans were ignored. She's talking, but neither of you are paying attention. Joel is so focused on devouring your entire mouth with his that he doesn't register your mom calling his name until you're frantically tapping his arm to get his attention back onto the phone.

"I said, do you miss my pussy, Joely?"

"You know I do, honey," he answers almost robotically as he refocuses his attention back on kissing you sloppily. He pulls away from a brief moment to roll his hips deep into yours, swallowing down your squeaky moans with his lips. Your mom is talking again, but Joel doesn't bother to respond. Instead, he lifts himself onto his hands and starts fucking you vigorously.

Hips smacking into hips and wet, sloppy noises fill the room. You're trying your hardest to contain your moans and not cum so suddenly, Joel can see and feel that. He's grunting heavily, his entire lower half smeared and covered in your sticky slick. For such a virgin, you sure do get wetter than the local neighborhood whore that Joel has numerously encountered many years back. There's a saying that goes: Virgin pussy is the best pussy, any man will agree. And Joel stands by that statement as he feels it from his own stepdaughter. It's an ego boost to feel something so warm and tight get so incredibly wet for him, and only him.

"Fuuuuuck, I can hear how wet this pussy is for me," Joel says loud enough for your mom to hear, though he directs it towards you. The pinch of your eyebrows and the rolling back of your eyes tells him more than what you can say aloud.

"Fuck, Joely, I'm gonna cum!"

Joel is fucking into you harder than you can comprehend what's happening. He smacks a hand over your mouth to muffle your little punched out moans. He grunts and growls like an animal, sweat trickling down his spine, further staining his shirt. His heart races at the speed of a cheetah. He feels like the most powerful man as he watches you start to fall apart under him.

"Cum for me," he breathes out, the warmth in his gut getting stronger as he rubs your clit with a shaky thumb. "Fuckin' cum all over my dick like a good fuckin' whore, huh? Are you Daddy's whore? Tell me... aagghhh!!... Tell me you're Daddy's fuckin' bitch."

"Uuhhh, Joel?"

He reaches over to hang up and toss his phone onto the floor with a clatter before leaning completely onto your body, folding you into a pretzel and fucking you with violence. You let out a piercing wail as he fucks the air out of you. Your nails pinch his skin, no doubt drawing blood. Joel's grunting in your face, warming your already heated skin with his beer breath. Tears roll down your temples as you hold onto him for dear life.

"I-I... hhnnggh..." You can hardly speak, let alone open your eyes to tell him exactly what you want to say. "Daddy... I-I... I lo-ove you!"

Joel is taken aback, letting out a surprised moan when your cunt rhythmically contracts around his cock as you cum, and you keep cumming. It doesn't fucking stop. Your pussy is so wound tight around him that Joel couldn't pull out if he wanted to. Squeaky little moans and shaky cries, you hold onto him tighter as your pussy relaxes.

His cock still lodged inside your swollen cunt, Joel observes you in silence. Your words are still echoing in his ears. His cock is nearly soft as it rests comfortably within your ribbed, fleshy walls. Love. Love. Love. You love him. You love him. And it has to be in the same way girlfriends love their boyfriends and wives love their husbands, which isn't the relationship the two of you have.

Joel pulls out before he realizes what exactly he's doing. He hastily tucks himself back into his ruined boxers and zips up his equally ruined jeans. He tossed you your clothes without giving you a single glance.

"Clean yourself up and get dressed. We need to talk," he gruffly says and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him for a dramatic effect.

He paces in the hallway, both hands running through his hair frantically as he tries to figure out what the fuck just happened. That dark, evil voice in the back of his mind returns. It's creeping in slowly, and soon, it overcomes him, drowning him in its darkness.

Look at what you did, Joel. Look at what happened. Love is involved, the one thing you were afraid of happening. Make it hurt. Cause more pain. Do something, NOW.

He's sitting on the couch by the time you come down the stairs, a subtle limp in your step from the rough fucking he gave you just minutes prior. Your clothes are disheveled, and your shirt is on backwards. You're twiddling your fingers and looking down at the ground like a guilty kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Joel's elbows are pressed into his knees with his hands cupped over his mouth in thought. His mind is racing, his thoughts screaming and hollering. For the first time in a long time, he doesn't know what to do.

"Daddy?"

Your gentle voice fills his ears, and he has to force himself to shut his eyes to avoid looking in your direction. He feels the warmth of your presence sitting beside him on the couch. Fuck, he can even smell the thick scent of your pussy, and he wonders if you even cleaned yourself up like he done told you to do. There's a tick in his jaw the more silent he stays. He feels like the first word he utters is going to make him explode.

"Joel?" you whisper meekly, tenderly grabbing onto his tense bicep and flinching when he suddenly jumps up to his feet.

Joel's arm burns from your touch. He doesn't know what to do with himself. He paces back and forth like a tweaker at a gas station, itching to get their hands on some drugs or alcohol. Joel knows that he's royally fucked. He never meant for you to get feelings for him. He thought he was doing the opposite with the way he's been acting with you.

"You stupid fuckin' girl," he barks out a cruel laugh and wipes a hand down his mouth as he shoots around to stare at you with a new fire in his furious eyes. "You don't know what love is, you hear me? You do not know what love is and you sure as hell ain't goin' to get it from me."

He can see his words shoot at you like bullets. The sag in your shoulders and the crestfallen expression you wear on your face was a clear indicator that what he said truly hurt you.

"Excuse me?" your question comes out soft and broken. "You... You don't love me?"

Make it hurt. Ruin it. MAKE IT HURT, JOEL.

"No, I don't," he speaks lowly. "You're real fuckin' dumb to think otherwise, sweetheart. You think all the things I've done to you were from a place of love? Huh? What, you think I really cared about those little feelings you had? News flash, you're just a kid. I ain't your boyfriend, and I sure as hell ain't gonna be a husband for you. I mean, you really think another man will want you after I've already had my fun with your body, hm?"

Joel knew it was a low blow, but he needed to go in for the kill. The way you're looking at him drastically changed into a look of pure hatred and venom. Hot tears spill down your cheeks as he watches you take in his harsh wordss

"I hate you," you wept quietly. "I-I hate you, Joel Miller. You... You bad, bad man."

He leans over with his hands planted on his knees as he slouches to your height. He gives you a mocking pout. "No, sweetheart, you don't hate me. If you hated me, you wouldn't have let me slide my dick inside that pussy of yours and take what was meant to be for a boy your age. Ain't that the truth, hm? No, instead, you let your ol' stepdaddy work his way into your empty little head and make you think that you're really worth somethin'."

He can see in that moment your heart breaking. He stands up straight again, looking down at you with disdain and shakes his head, tsking as he does so. You don't bother to look at him as he fixes your hair over your shoulder. He smiles a little at the flinch you give. When he roughly grabs your jaw in his hand and yanks your head up to look at him, he leans in real close again.

"I still own this pussy whether you like it or not."

And with that, Joel Miller has completely ruined your heart.

taglist:

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[leighsartworks216]

Damn Him

Father!Zayne x Mother!Reader

I NEVER write baby fics or anything with kids and shit EVER. So when I got this idea and felt something deep in my core about it, I simply had to get it out of my system. I'm sorry ;-;

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, angst (at the end), family fic, breasts, Dawnbreaker, swearing

Word Count: 1,275

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AO3

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Crying broke through the still night air. They crackled slightly, muffled through the baby monitor on your bedside table. Nonetheless, you were awake.

The bed is already starting to shift when you're opening your eyes. You blindly reach out and grab onto the soft sleeve of Zayne's pajama shirt.

"I've got it..." you murmur. "She's prob’ly hungry."

He watches blearily as you slowly push yourself up into a sit. "Are you sure?"

You hum, nodding. You let go of him and pick up the monitor, waving it in the air with a playful, yet sleepy, grin. "It's on my side tonight, remember?" You turn down the volume, set it back down and get to your feet. "Go back to bed, lovey. I'll be back soon."

Zayne sighs, but he stays where he is as you pull a cardigan of his around your shoulders. He listens to the sounds of your shared home: the quiet shuffle of your slippers, the hiccuping cries of your daughter, the soothing lilt of your voice as you calm her down.

He glances at the digital clock beside him. It's only 2am; there's still plenty of time to get enough sleep for work tomorrow. As much as his body wants to fight the exhaustion and join you, he knows you'd scold him if he tried. He trusts you, anyway. There's nothing he can do right now to help.

So, he slips back under the blankets and turns onto his side. As the blankets fall into place, the rustling silences, and he tunes back into the lullaby you sing. It leads him down into the embrace of a peaceful slumber.

When next he wakes, he's disoriented. He blinks droopily at the emptiness of your side of the bed, then at the clock that reads 3:30am. There's no distinct sounds coming from the baby monitor. Down the hall is quiet. Why aren't you in bed?

He pushes the blankets off of himself and sits up, sliding on his slippers like it’s second nature. The cool air of the bedroom doesn't bother him as he crosses the room and out the door.

The door to the nursery is wide open. Blue moonlight pours though, spilling onto the floor and up the opposite wall. He squints slightly as he peeks inside. Any fears he could have vanish as he sees you.

You're sitting back in the armchair beside the window, head tilted back at an awkward angle and mouth open around quiet snores. Your shirt is pulled down to expose one of your breasts. Your daughter is using it as a pillow as your arms securely hold her, even as you are fast asleep.

Zayne drinks it all in. Your sleep-rumpled hair and dark eye bags, the shimmer of a drool trail along your chin, the uncomfortable way the collar of your shirt pulls against the underside of your breast. Your daughter, Jasmine, his beloved little flower, clinging with her tiny baby fists to his cardigan you stole, her chubby cheek resting against your skin and the other catching a stray moonbeam. He considers taking a photo of the moment, though he eventually decides against it. His two girls need to be put to bed and he doesn't wish to delay that any longer. Besides, if nothing else, this moment has been seared into his mind. That is enough for him.

He's as quiet as can be as he crosses the room to the chair. Carefully, he slowly pries Jasmine's hands from the cardigan. Her body is so small and warm in his hands as he lifts her into his arms. Oftentimes, he's overwhelmed with the desire to hold her forever, to feel her tiny little heartbeat alongside his own. Just like people save ultrasounds or ink-presses of their child's feet and hands, Zayne wonders if it would be strange to save an echocardiogram as a memento.

She doesn't stir as he lays her down in the crib. Her long, dark eyelashes curl over her round cheeks, picturesque. Her onesie is covered in little snowmen. He should make one for her with his Evol tomorrow. He can only imagine the bright-eyed stare she'd give him as he creates such cute things out of thin air.

Leaning down, he presses the lightest of kisses to her head, just barely starting to see hair growth. Now to take care of the other girl in his life.

Nimble fingers pull your shirt back over your breast, drawing the open sides of the cardigan together to keep you warm. He debates between waking you or not. And although he really should wake you, he ends up lifting you from the chair and into his arms. The moonlight caresses his back as he carries you down the hall, back to your bedroom. He tucks your feet in first as he lays you down before pulling the blankets up over you. Just as he did with Jasmine, he kisses your forehead, willing portions of his soul to transfer to you in hopes he can somehow get across how much he utterly and truly loves you.

He grabs the baby monitor before he rounds the bed back to his side. He turns the volume dial back up and sets it on his nightstand beside the clock. You'll get onto him about it being your turn to take care of the baby for the entire night, a system born out of his tendency to do everything himself due to his workaholic nature. He'll accept the scolding come daylight. You'll forgive him. You always do. Even if it's with an exaggerated sigh and a fond eye roll.

He lays on his side to face you, the love of his life. He couldn't dream of being anywhere but here, by your side, as he allows sleep to overcome him once again.

-

He wakes up.

Hollow.

He always feels hollow after dreams like that. And why shouldn't he feel the weight of what is missing in his life?

His bed is empty save for him. The room down the hall is full of random stuff he can't be bothered to worry about. It's a guest room; he's not having any guests over, so why bother?

The void within him cries to be filled. It opens like a yawning mouth, only an unfathomable depth waiting within, yearning for that life. The life that doctor has. A life he can never have.

Never will he be able to wake up to your face right beside him. Never will he be able to hold his daughter. Never will he be able to have that life with you.

It isn't fair. It's not-

He presses the balls of his hands into his eyes, biting back the shuddering breaths and the sting of tears. He’ll be forced to watch his daughter grow up through that doctor’s eyes. And it’s not even his. He has no rights to make a claim on her. He never will.

Relegated to watching you grow old through someone else’s eyes, instead of being there with you, to hold and help and love.

The sensor beeps nearby. He turns his head to look, blinking away the moisture in his eyes and meeting the breaking dawn that shines in through the window. A red dot blinks at him. It’s only a few blocks away.

He imagines for a brief second if the victim this time was you.

You, carrying a little baby in your arms, calling him a murderer. The idea of taking her life-

He closes his eyes and wills the thoughts away. Damn that doctor for having the life he can never have. Damn him.

---

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[mari-positas]

baby, i’m yours

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You remind Joel that you’re his.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION however she does wear Joel’s t-shirt and he semi lifts her onto a counter? sorta but not really? UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (Joel is in his 50’s but reader’s specific age is not mentioned). established relationship, sort of. consumption of food (if you are allergic to peanuts, i so sorry). angst, Joel and Ellie’s strained relationship is lightly implied, Joel is insecure, it’s implied reader did some horrible things in her past, reassurance, brief smut, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, consider it a quickie idk. apologies if i missed anything.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this short lil thing has been sitting in my drafts forever. i finished it while i was in ireland and finally had the chance to sit down and do a quick edit and when i say it was quick, i flew through it so i could hop onto my next wip so please excuse any errors! here’s a spotify link to the song if anyone’s curious, it’s an oldie but a goodie although it may not be everyone’s cup of tea.

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Joel rolls over in bed, his arm outstretched and seeking the warmth of your soft, naked body.

“Mmph,” a small, sleepy groan falls from his lips as his long, thick fingers feel around on your side of the bed—of his bed. Of course, you have your very own bedroom in the house you all had been placed in when you first arrived in Jackson. Your very own bed to sleep in is just down the hallway, but lately, you’ve been waking up beside him a lot more often than not, especially now that Ellie’s a bit older and she’s gone and made herself her own space out in the garage behind the house. Being under the same roof as Joel did those two more harm than it did good, and while you missed having her around, it was for the best.

“She’ll come around, Joel,” you’d assured him. “I know she will. She just needs a bit of time is all.”

“Hope you’re right, darlin’,” he had murmured sadly in response.

Still lost somewhere in between sleep and full consciousness, Joel continues feeling around for you, but all he finds are the wrinkled sheets, cold and abandoned. Confused, his eyes finally flutter open and with a painful protest from his sore, stiff back, he sits up, blinking furiously as he looks around the darkness of his bedroom. The door’s been left cracked open ever so slightly, and as his vision adjusts now that he’s fully awake, he notices the dim glow of the hallway light that’s peeking through into the room.

He turns and glances over at the old digital alarm clock perched on his nightstand, the obnoxious, bright red numbers practically screaming at him that it’s a quarter past midnight. With a small, tired grunt, Joel switches on the lamp beside the clock and swings his legs over the side of the mattress, goosebumps erupting across his flesh the instant that his bare feet meet the cold, hardwood floor. He stands and fumbles around for his clothes, which he’d tossed carelessly somewhere over his shoulder hours earlier when he’d been lost in the heat of the moment with you. He finds his faded, navy blue sweatpants strewn across a chair next to the door and pulls them on over his naked lower body before searching for his t-shirt. When he doesn’t immediately see it, he doesn’t bother, figuring that it’s just going to come back off when he climbs back into bed with you.

Padding out of his bedroom, he makes his way down the hallway, heading towards the staircase. As he draws closer, he hears it—the soft music that’s coming from downstairs.

Baby, I'm yours

and I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky

yours until the rivers all run dry

in other words, until I die

He’s led towards the kitchen and that’s where he finds you.

Joel wants to be annoyed. 

Fuck, he tries to be annoyed. But he can’t help the way that the corners of his mouth threaten to turn upwards when his eyes take in the sight before him.

You’re standing at the center island slowly swaying your hips from side to side along to the beat of the song that’s playing from the record player perched next to the instant coffee maker on the counter behind you. He’d nearly wrung your neck when he found out what all you had traded just to get your hands on it, but you loved that thing more than life itself it seemed, so he couldn’t stay mad for very long. You’re making yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—the peanut butter you’d learned how to make yourself with the old food processor he found deep in one of the kitchen cabinets, and the strawberry preserves you had picked up from the market earlier that week. Clad in nothing but his t-shirt, you’re singing along quietly to the lyrics as you finish making your late night snack.

Baby, I’m yours

and I’ll be yours until the sun no longer shines

yours until the poets run out of rhyme

in other words, until the end of time

Joel leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he watches you carefully lick the remnants of peanut butter off of the knife you’re using before setting it down on the counter. You then pick up the two pieces of bread and slap them together—you’d also learned how to bake homemade bread using some old nineties cookbook you had found in the commune’s library. Your sourdough is the reason he had to go up a notch in his belt.

Sandwich in hand, you do a little spin, humming happily as you take your first bite.

Joel loudly clears his throat from the doorway.

Startled, you whirl around and freeze, your eyes wide.

“Enjoyin’ yourself there, darlin’?” He asks amusedly as he approaches you.

“Jesus Christ! You scared me, Joel!” You hiss at him. You then realize what time of night it is and a look of guilt crosses your features. “Oh shit. I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I honestly thought that I had the volume down low enough in here—”

Frowning, you turn around and reach towards the record player to turn the music off, but much to your surprise, Joel stops you. “No, s’okay. I woke up on my own,” he assures you. “I reached over for you and you were gone.” The admission slips before he can even think to stop it. He notices how taken aback you are by what he’d just said and quickly asks, “What’cha doin’ up so late, anyway?”

“I was hungry,” you tell him, sheepishly holding up your food. You always have one hell of an appetite after Joel was through fucking you senseless. You take another bite and offer it to him. “Want some?”

“Sure.”

He accepts and takes a corner of the sandwich before handing it back to you. His fingers brush against yours and his face burns at the contact.

Fucking Christ. 

You’re standing there in nothing but his fucking t-shirt after he had, yet again, made you his in his own fucking bed, and that’s what gets him?

Truth be told, the only time he holds your hand is when he’s inside of you—his fingers lace with your own as he comforts you and praises you for being such a good girl for taking his cock the way you do.

For being so, so fucking good for him.

He’s thought about taking your hand in front of others. Particularly when he notices the way some of the men in town stare at you. Joel wants to make it known that you’re already spoken for. Only, you’re not spoken for, not really. 

You’re his, but you’re not really his. It’s not that he doesn’t want to take the leap and acknowledge the two of you are far more than just patrol partners, far more than just two people who fought like fucking hell to get some smart assed teenager—and the world’s only hope for a cure—across the country.

He feels undeserving of it. Of you and your heart.

Several seasons had come and gone since you’d both arrived in Jackson with Ellie in tow, and somehow, Joel still can’t fathom what you’re doing by his side. She’s out of the house now and there’s nothing tying you to him, so why are you still here?

He’s so much older. Closer and closer to being on his way out, while you still had your entire life left ahead of you. He’s worn down, hardened from the post outbreak world. And you, you hadn’t lost any of your softness, your sweetness. Not even after the things you’d been forced to do to survive because of him.

You could meet someone younger, someone closer to your own age. You could marry, even start a family. You could be with someone who could give you a good life, the life you deserve.

The life that he’s too fucking broken to give you.

“Joel?” Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. M’fine.” He gestures to the record player with a nod of his head. “Y’know, this song’s older than me. By a few years. Came out in the early sixties.”

Joel half expects you to make some wisecrack joke and tease him over his age like you have done in the past—especially when the kid would get you going. Instead, he watches you set what’s left of your sandwich down and brush the crumbs from your hands before holding one of them out to him.

Confused, he stares at it for a moment before his dark eyes meet yours. “What are you doin’?”

“Dance with me,” you say, smiling at him.

“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me, right?” When he realizes you’re being serious, he shakes his head. “Y’know I don’t—I can’t dance.”

Dropping your hand back down to your side, you turn around and flip the record, starting the song over again before whirling back around and taking Joel’s hands in yours.

“Just follow my lead,” you tell him as you place them on your waist. Your own hands settle themselves on his broad shoulders, his skin warm beneath your fingertips. “Don’t overthink it.”

“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” Joel grumbles underneath his breath, however he finds himself moving along with you without further protest. Subconsciously, he pulls you closer against him as the two of you slowly sway from side to side along to the beat of the music. He chuckles, “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”

“And your point is?” You rest your head on his shoulder and exhale a soft, contended sigh.

Joel’s lips threaten to pull down once more.

Could it be that you’re actually content with him?

Head still on his shoulder, you sing along softly with Barbara Lewis. 

“I’m gonna stay right here by your side

do my best to keep you satisfied

nothing in this world can drive me away

‘cause every day you'll hear me say…”

It quickly becomes too much for him. Joel’s hands leave your waist. Taking your wrists, he tugs your arms from around his neck and gently pushes you away from him. “Why?” he finally asks the question that’s been hanging off the tip of his tongue for the better part of the last three years. “Why me?”

You stare at him, puzzled. “What?”

“Why me?” he repeats himself. “Why me when you can have anyone else—”

Your reply is prompt and you say it so simply.

“Because I don’t want anyone else.”

“You deserve better.”

You peer at him curiously. “I deserve better?”

“You do. Ain’t got no business being with someone like me. After all the terrible shit I’ve done—”

“I did the same exact shit, Joel. Sometimes I did even fucking worse.” Somehow, softness laces your tone. You have never been angry with him and you weren’t about to start now. “What makes my hands any cleaner than yours?”

Joel begins to sputter. “M’older than you. Much older. Should’a been a lot more careful. Should’a done more so you didn’t have to do those things.”

His hands still curled around your wrists, you reach up and gingerly cradle the sides of his face. He winces, but then quickly melts into your touch, the very same touch that could heal his wounds, if only he would allow it.

“I made my own choices,” you remind him, quietly. Neither of you realize the music has stopped. “Quit acting like blood doesn’t stain my hands too because it does.”

His lips press into a tight line. “Blood stains your hands ‘cause of me. S’my fault. I was responsible for you. I was s’pposed to take care of you. I didn’t protect you the way I should’ve.”

You sigh.

“When are you going to stop blaming yourself, Joel?”

The muscle in his jaw ticks as it clenches. He averts his gaze, his eyes falling to the floor. He doesn’t answer.

You stroke the scruff of his beard lightly with your thumbs. “When are you going to stop thinking you’re not good enough for me? What’s it going to take for me to prove to you that you are all I could ever need and want?”

“You’re just wastin’ your fuckin’ life on me, darlin’. S’the truth and you fuckin’ know it as well as I do.”

Pulling your wrists out of his hands, you pivot on your heel and suck in a sharp breath, stubbornly blinking back the tears stinging your eyes. You’re frustrated.

It cuts you to your very core to know the man you’ve grown to love more than anything and anyone else on what’s left of this fucking planet can’t see that he’s enough. He’s more than enough.

Joel bites back his own frustrated sigh. He knows he can’t rely on you to tell him, rely on the reassurance—he needs to do his part and believe it. If he keeps trying to push you away, he just may very well succeed one day. He will lose you.

After a moment, he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around you, his lips lightly brushing your neck. “M’sorry,” he mumbles, his own voice thickening as a lump forms in the back of his throat. He’s quick to swallow it down. “Jus’ have a hard time believin’ you’re mine. S’almost like my mind is lookin’ to prove me wrong.”

“But I am yours, Joel. I’m yours, I’m fucking yours.”

It’s more than just reassurance. It’s an oath, one you’ll honor for the rest of your life.

He holds you tighter. “Yeah?” He nips at the delicate spot right below your ear, his teeth scraping along tender flesh. “S’that right, baby? You’re all mine?”

“All yours,” you confirm breathlessly as his hands slowly begin trailing down the length of your sides, his fingers skimming the hem of his t-shirt.

Joel swiftly turns you around in his arms and slips his hand between your thighs. The next thing you know, he has you backed up against the counter and he’s shoving his sweatpants down, freeing his hard, thick cock. With one of your legs hooked around his waist, he buries himself into the warmth of your cunt and begins to deliver smooth, languid strokes.

“Say it again, baby,” he rasps into your neck. He coaxes your other leg up and around his waist and his large hands curl securely underneath your thighs as he bucks up into you. He’d deal with the back pain later. He pants, “Need—need to hear you say it, my sweet girl.”

You hold onto the countertop behind you as he fucks you, your fingernails digging into the laminated wood. “Fuck, I’m yours,” you moan into his shoulder. “I’m all yours, Joel. Oh fuck—”

You say it over and over again and he believes it.

He finally fucking believes it.

Sweet nothings fall from his lips with each thrust.

“S’lucky you’re all fuckin’ mine.”

“My beautiful, beautiful girl.”

“Gonna keep you for the rest of my fuckin’ life.”

When he spills into you, there’s no regret on his part nor yours. You’d always wanted to feel him come inside of you—secretly, so did he. Joel’s deep, guttural groans bounce off of the kitchen walls as your pussy fills with him, with all of him, taking as much as it can before he begins leaking out of you and down the insides of your thighs.

“Jesus,” he exhales. He dips his head for a kiss. “You’re all messy now, baby,” he mumbles against your lips. “How’s about we go upstairs and get back into bed so I can clean you up?”

Giggling, you mimic him and remind him of what he’d said earlier. “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”

Joel grins. “And your point is?”

You laugh again as he leads you out of the kitchen and back up to his bedroom—to yours and his bedroom.

[ozzgin]

Is it just me or can I imagine a yandere with a darling who’s immune system and possibly everything about them just screams weak and pathetic, BUT their darling is actually very strong mentally and has and will create the most fucked up, batshit crazy inventions from what used to be harmless to something that can help them escape and possibly destroy everything in its path.

But at the end of the day, they become sleepy koalas who hug whoever is near them and fall asleep :)

This could be a request or rant, whatever you can think of! I just wanted to see how different yandere writers would interpret this small imagination of mine <3

But as always, stay safe and take care! everyone needs a break some time to time~

Sorry, but the moment I read the Darling's description, I instantly thought of Dr. Finkelstein from Nightmare Before Christmas. You know, Sally's inventor. 😭 So let me quickly write this down while I'm in my Shelley vibes, because I like the idea a lot. With a little twist, if you don't mind. :)

Yandere! Monster x Inventor! Reader

A frail inventor, and their affectionate rag doll that has been carefully stitched together for the purpose of a caregiver. An artificial existence, trapped within the confines of your lonely tower. Or so you might think.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, obsessive behavior

"I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel..." [Frankenstein]

You dangle an old, rusty bell for a good minute before leaning back in your chair. The barely audible chimes are quickly swallowed by the loud, mechanical groans of the gears and engines occupying most of this room. No matter, his ears are good. You picked them yourself. And surely enough, within moments, the door to your laboratory opens and someone cautiously walks in.

A tall, slender man. Or rather, something meant to resemble a man. The skin is a clumsy patchwork of blues and grays - you're no talented seamster, sadly - gathering together the body parts in what feels like a parodic attempt at mimicking God and his image. You gaze at the creature approaching you with a tray of tea and sweets. Scarcely your best work, if you must adhere to honesty. Regardless of the quality of your labor at the time of creation, you are proud of the result. How could you not be? You know this man better than you know yourself. Every organ, every artificial nerve cord, every blemish and stitch of his body was placed according to your intentions. A masterfully detailed project that took you years to complete; not an easy feat considering the lamentable state of your health.

"Here's your deadly nightshade tea." The man places a small, porcelain cup on the desk. "Do let me know when I should take you to bed, (Y/N)." You wave your hand dismissively and stretch out your limbs. "Not yet. I am almost finished", you respond, returning to the mound of metal scraps and pipes before you. "Can I ask what you're making?" The pale creature lowers himself to your level, a curious smile plastered on his face. "It's a mechanical heart", you reveal boastfully. "Like the one I have?" You run your hand through the creature's hair affectionately. "Almost. I'm testing out a different way to build the valves, for a more efficient pumping cycle." You continue to explain the intricacies of your novel mechanism, occasionally sipping on your tea. "Who knows, you might have a sibling in the near future."

The man's smile drops in an instant, and his sunken eyes widen at your statement. "What? Am I- am I not enough?" You glance at the creature as he becomes increasingly frantic. "Don't speak nonsense. If it comes out alright, I'll upgrade your own parts as well. I'm a disciple of scientific virtue, of continuous improvement." Nonsense? Vile treachery! You might've chiseled the brain that throbs within the walls of his skull, but his mind is his alone, and you seem to lack a fundamental understanding of his feelings and thoughts. His ardent confessions of love are met with mockingly pitiful grins, in the way a parent soothes a needy child. Even now, your eyes reflect nothing more than sympathy towards his protest. A childish tantrum is what you're most likely thinking. You've no time for emotional bagatelles. He can read you like an open book.

You simply won't understand. There is no place for a stranger in the life he's crafted with his very own hands: you, and him, and the evening tea with a side of butterscotch biscuits, and the bedtime talks, and the stripped branches of the decaying tree that rap at the windows on stormy nights. You might be the Inventor, but he is not just a mere, humble servant, a rag doll to be tossed around or toyed with. As you will soon discover, after all.

You awaken in the midst of night with your temples burning from a much too familiar headache. Although it's not just the pain that has disturbed your slumber. You can hear rattles and thuds coming from the upstairs laboratory. An intruder? Oh, your creations! The sound of glass breaking and metal scraping sends you into spiraling despair. You fumble to reach the nightstand, patting the surface in search for the bell and keys. You shake the handle in a panic, unable to find anything else in the darkness.

The chaotic rustle abruptly stops, followed by descending footsteps. You hold your breath as the chamber door opens, but it's none other than your creature. "Another flare-up? Shall I bring you some medicine?" the man asks with monotonous courtesy. "What have you been doing? What's all that noise?" you demand, agitated, but upon lifting yourself off the mattress you discover your legs are numb and uncooperative. The man hurries to your bed with a worried frown, and you hear the familiar clatter of the keychain coming from one of his pockets. "Have you taken my keys? Cease this foolishness at once!" Indifferent to your reproach, he places a firm hold on your shoulders and forces you back down, tucking you in effortlessly.

"You must forgive my impertinence." he says in a pleading tone. "I do not wish to impede the works of your genius. As your partner, however, it is my duty to prevent you from making mistakes." You furrow your eyebrows at his words. "What mistakes? My invention was flawless!", you argue fervently. "Indeed it was, but not its purpose. What need have you for another being?" It is the creature's turn for a passionate speech. He stands up with a confidence you don't recognize and continues: "You should know by now that I am fit to perform any role. That of your servant, your caregiver, your lover, or anything else you may desire. You can resume your tinkering starting tomorrow, but such blasphemies to our bond as the one today will not be tolerated." He straightens his vest and reaches for the door handle. "I will prepare some tea to help you rest."

Inconceivable. Your own creation, built with your own hands...Has something escaped your attention? His dialogue is deranged, tainted by madness. "Have I done something wrong?" you mumble to yourself, deep in contemplation. "Nonsense." the creature turns to face you briefly. "It was you who created me after all. Everything is perfectly splendid."

[hellsslibrary]

For an obey me request can I have some pillow princess belphie? Ik he wouldn’t do any work when having sex lol. Dom top male reader pls!

"Shh, baby, you don't have to... Or I'm joking, mmm?"

#a.n. : The internship at the university is over, so... :)

!!Warnings : top!dom!male!reader, sub!bottom!Belphie, A HUGE amount of teasing (the whole sex is based on their idea), praise kink, complaints from Belphie, but they are playful, raw penetration, open ending, mostly focused on foreplay (because I love foreplay too much, yeah), Belphie in demonic form and... Weird use of his tail (nothing nasty or scary though, it's funny), handjob, fingering, the reader is the MC, it is implied that the reader is larger than Belphie.

"Belphie... Don't be so grumpy. It'll be fine anyway. You don't have to try, I'll do all the work... Please?" You ask for probably the hundredth time and Belphegor just sighs, but otherwise doesn't move, lying too comfortably right now.

You've been trying to convince him to have sex for the last fifteen minutes, but he told you that he was more lazy than usual today. And he just didn't want to even move, but your words kept creeping further and further under the cortex of his brain, wanting to agree, despite his laziness. After all, how could he refuse his favorite and only human?

"Well, if you say you'll do all the work, MC, then fine..." He mumbles, lazily rolling over onto his back, getting comfortable, fidgeting for about half a minute, and then just freezing.

"Thank you, thank you! You really don't have to do anything!... Or maybe I'm kidding," You let out a chuckle, which is quickly silenced when Belphegor's tail wraps around your head, covering your mouth, but then drops back down.

"You do all the work," He mumbles, letting his legs fall to the sides and looking at you silently, waiting.

And of course, you don't keep him waiting. Your hands move down to his black sweatpants, slipping your hand under the waistband and pushing them down far too slowly for Belphegor's liking.

"You said you'd be quick... I'm sleepy," He complains, lightly slapping your knee with the tip of his tail, but otherwise doesn't complain, remaining slightly embarrassed by how the tent in his underwear has become much more visible.

"Who's keeping you awake? You can fall asleep just fine. You've fallen asleep just fine the last few times."

The demon just sighs, closing his eyes, letting out a ragged breath as you squeeze his cock through his underwear. His slender hips twitch, wanting more contact, wanting relief. And he whines as your fingers hook into the elastic again, this time on his underwear, pulling it down.

Your hand wraps around his cock, taking up the part from the base to the part below the head. A whimper escapes the brunette's lips as your thumb runs along his slit, lubricating the precum from there onto some part of his cock, making your movements a little easier.

His cock stands tall and proud, twitching at your direct gaze directed at it. The head is already dripping with precum, which is a little premature considering you've done literally nothing. But hey, who's complaining?

"Well? Are you going to make me cum or something?" He asks slightly annoyed, trying to spank your knee with his tail again, but you hold it in your free hand, watching as his cock hardens even more.

"Maybe I tricked you and you'll have to push into my hand. What do you say then?" You answer with obvious mockery, not paying attention to how his tail continues to spank your wrist more than once, and Belphegor's eyes literally began to glow.

"MC..." He drawls in an unreadable tone, although from his face it is clear that it is more of a plea.

His eyebrows are arched in such a manner as if he is about to cry; crystal tears will flow from his eyes, pouring down his cheeks red from excitement and embarrassment, falling down onto his still untouched neck. His pupils are dilated, his irises glow a pleasant purple hue, crystal drops glitter on his long eyelashes. His lips, which are slightly bitten and plump from this, twitch and shine with moisture; they are slightly open from the heavy breathing of their owner from the sensations that he is going through.

And oh God, he looks simply inimitable and so beautiful that you can’t continue teasing him (he is a small manipulator, he-he). Your palm slightly squeezes on his shaft and you begin to move your hand in a slightly faster, rhythmic tempo, which makes his back arch incredibly.

You can’t help but bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathe in his scent, feel his clearly accelerated pulse under your lips. A groan escapes his lips as he feels you bite that spot, and then your lips suck on it, leaving a mark that will turn into a bright purple hickey later.

"M-MC... I can't cum like this, please..." He practically chirps, grabbing your shoulder, pulling his head back to give you better access to his neck.

"Shh, you're doing great, dear. You can cum for me like this, right? Come on, try... I'll make it a hundred times better for you later," You whisper, moving your lips higher, kissing the patch of skin behind his ear, making him shudder.

Your hoarse whisper, your hand on his hot cock, your scent so close, your gaze only on him... And as soon as he feels his precum start to flow down, over his balls, and even lower, he cums. Not even trying to hide a single sound, too focused on one single task. He is feeling good. And it's your fault.

"Well done, I'm so proud of you... You came so fast and so much, it's amazing for you," You coos soothingly, kissing his cheeks and brushing the hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, revealing his face in full.

"Fingering?" You ask, looking down at your hand, pulling it away from his cock, wiping his cum onto the sheets that would be ruined even more later.

He nods silently, probably unable to even attempt to say anything coherent right now, so you simply spread his legs further, reaching for the packet of lube in your pants pocket.

"Are you sure you're ready? I can wait a bit," You ask again, earning the inevitable kick to the knee from his tail, and he just shakes his head.

"I'm a demon, I'm not even overstimulated... yet," Belphegor mumbles, barely managing to form anything normal, and only spreading his legs wider.

You rip the packet apart with your teeth, pouring the contents onto your fingers and then sliding both fingers in at once, which he accepts with absolutely no problem.

"I didn't bring a condom, by the way..." He just waves your words away, already holding his eyes closed, while fat tears form in the corners of his eyes, which you kiss to keep them from rolling down.

He wraps his legs around your waist lazily, causing you to even hold one of his thighs... This brat, ugh. Your fingers slide in and out of his velvet walls, which wrap around your fingers, not wanting to let you go. Obviously desperate whines escape his lips as you purposely hit his prostate every time.

"Just fuck me already... Or I'll ban you from sex for a month."

You just blink like an owl at this threat. Obviously not real, though. But you still comply, pulling your own pants down with your clean hand and sighing in relief when your cock is finally out.

Your dirty hand coats your cock in the remnants of lube and you grab his hips, inhaling and lining up your tip with his entrance. You both moan at the same time as you slowly begin to push in until you bottom out inside him.

"I wasn't kidding about banning it."

You hold still, giving him time to adjust, and yourself too, to be honest. You feel like you're about to cum just from the look on his face, you exhale and he opens his eyes.

He tightens around you, making you hiss and start thrusting into him, causing him to fall back against the pillows in relief, grabbing the sheets underneath them. And you just realize that no matter how much he insists on 'faster', you're not leaving here until at least half of his stamina is gone... Oh well, here we fo again.

[vxnillabxn]

Ahhhhh the one you wrote of Zayne not wanting reader to go home is so sweet. Can you do one of Sylus too arthur?

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus x gn!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ fluff, a bit possessive!sylus but we love him! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚hehehe, i love writing sylus! i don't really interact with him inside the game because he makes me nervous and a bit blushy, ngl 𐔌՞꜆.  ̫.꜀՞𐦯, but i love writing for him and imagining his little mannerisms and gestures! enjoy, my sylus' darlings! ♡

you love visiting and bothering your boyfriend, though he'd never dare consider you bothersome, no matter how many times you test his patience.

either by asking dumb questions repeatedly, or by interrupting him in the middle of cooking or work, you absolutely love spending time with sylus.

even when his gaze does manage to intimidate you.

just a tiny bit.

“sy, let's sleeeep.”

you groan.

but he's wide awake; after all, he literally woke up an hour ago.

you poke his arms, his chest, his torso, but he just looks at you, breathing slowly and deeply.

“come on! i'm sleepy, let's take a nap! or… cuddle? don't you want to cuddle? please!”

you kneel in front of him on the couch and shake him by the shoulders until he finally takes your hands, spins you around, and ends up hovering over you.

oh geez.

“are you done?”

his nose is brushing against yours, and you could literally just pout your lips and they'd meet his.

but you don't.

instead, you nod.

“good. i do want to cuddle, but i need you to stay still, kitten.”

and you do, letting him gently guide you onto your side so he can spoon you.

he wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his nose into your nape.

you smile, knowing you finally got what you wanted from the start.

until you glance at the gorgeous clock in the living room.

crap!

you sit up abruptly and grab your bag.

“sy! it's super late, i need to go! i'll come back later, goodby—”

he pulls you right back onto the couch, this time pressing your face against his chest.

you gasp.

“stay.”

his voice is firm, almost stern.

obviously, he could mean “stay still and don't you dare move after nagging me for twenty minutes straight.”

or maybe, he means “don't you dare leave my side after just being next to me for two miserable minutes.”

“but sylus, i—”

he pulls back just enough to look at you. his lips are pressed into a thin line, brows slightly furrowed, and his hands dig ever so lightly into your waist.

“stay.”

he repeats it. and this time, judging by the subtle way his brows now knit together, you know he really means “stay with me.”

you stare at him, then let your bag drop to the floor before cuddling into him again.

he lets out a quiet sigh of relief and you gently nuzzle your nose against his sharp jawline.

“i'm sorry.”

you whisper.

he cradles your head, long fingers tangling in your hair.

“what for, sweetie?”

you sigh, closing your eyes, almost wanting to purr as he massages your scalp.

“for trying to leave, silly.”

he hums in response, then tilts your chin so your gaze meets his.

“as long as you stay, you're forgiven.”

you know you have so many things to do.

but then again, sylus had tons of things to do too, and you still took him all to yourself.

it's only fair to stay, then.

so you quickly forget everything else. you turn off your phone so no one disturbs you, and climb on top of him.

his hands roam lazily up and down your back until they settle on your lower back.

obviously, he won't sleep. but he'll relax, having a sleepy you, about to softly snore and drool on his chest, perfectly resting on top of him.

and as he looks at the clock, then back at your phone, he knows there are plenty of things to take care of.

first, no more worrying about the time.

second, no more going back to your place.

third, no more spending nights apart ever again.

and the best way to do that?

marrying you.

because it's ridiculous —completely unacceptable— for either of you to return to an empty house after a date, and even worse to say goodbye and then suffer through the absence on a cold bed until the next morning.

he doesn't like it. so, of course, he'll change it.

and the day he does… oh, you're in for a wild ride.

he'll be a little more patient when you nag him, but he'll make up for all those nights you had to sleep alone, or when he reluctantly had to let you go home, even when it physically pained him to see your sad eyes.

and you, on the other hand, will have to make up for all those nights he had no cute kitten on his chest making biscuits, like you are now.

so once he finally slips that ring onto your finger and carries you away forever, you'll never have to say “goodbye” to him.

your eyes will never show longing before he leaves, and you'll never miss or be apart from each other's embrace.

ever again.

he kisses the crown of your head, and you smile softly in your sleep, enjoying the tender gesture.

but for him, it is a way to seal his silent promise.

or rather, his vows to you.

[hardly-an-escape]

I believe with all my heart that Buck still struggles during thunderstorms after being hit by lightning. luckily Tommy makes an extremely effective weighted blanket.

Tommy awakens, in the early hours of the morning, to a clap of thunder and an empty bed.

He feels sleepily for Evan; that side of the bed is still warm, so he can't be far, probably just in the bathroom.

He dozes off again. When another rolling burst of thunder startles him back to consciousness a few minutes later, Evan is still gone and the sheets have cooled. The rain is clattering hard on the skylight above their bed. With a groan, Tommy hauls himself out of bed to look for his boyfriend.

Evan is not in the en suite bathroom. Nor is he in the office, where he sometimes retreats to read when he can't sleep; nor yet in the kitchen. Tommy stands in the living room, hands on hips, blinking blearily and considering where he might look next.

Then he notices the blankets on the floor.

They’ve got one of those L-shaped couches with the chaise on one side, big and deep enough for two bulky men to cuddle on. Evan has wedged himself against the couch legs in the corner of the L in a pile of blankets and throw pillows, and Tommy doesn’t miss the fact that he’s about as far from the living room windows as it’s possible to be.

Even bleary-eyed, he doesn’t miss the fact that the blinds and curtains are both tightly closed, though he’s sure they’d been open when they went to bed, to catch the last few rays of sunset before the cloud cover rolled over Los Angeles.

Outside, the rain beats heavily against the sidewalk and the roof and the windows and thunder rumbles again across the sky. Inside, Tommy lowers himself down to the living room floor with a grunt and adds himself to Evan's pile of pillows.

"Hey," Evan says, voice sleepy and small.

"Hey," Tommy replies, insinuating one hand into the nest to gently hold the back of Evan's neck. "Storm getting to you?"

"Yeah. Normally it wouldn't, you know, bug me, but I was already having this weird, like, anxiety dream about my sister, and when the thunder and lightning woke me up, it just –"

"You don't have to explain, sweetheart," Tommy cuts in. "I get it."

"It's embarrassing," Evan says, muffled.

"It's not. We have a scary job. Every firefighter I know has something like this, a call or an injury that stuck with them, and not in a good way. Yours just happens to be a little more... visceral, I guess, than some people's."

"I guess. Thanks for coming to check on me."

"Of course." He can feel Evan flinch as another clap of thunder is followed almost immediately by a bolt of lightning that makes the room glow briefly, even through the blinds and curtains. Tommy tightens his grip on the back of his neck. "If you need to stay down here, I'll stay with you, but I think my back and your leg will thank us if we can make it onto the couch."

Evan considers. "Will you lie on top of me?"

"Sure."

They maneuver themselves and the blankets onto the long side of the couch. After some adjustment, Evan ends up on his belly, bad leg cocked to the side and face turned toward the back of the couch, clutching a throw pillow to his chest while Tommy plasters himself against his back like the world's heaviest weighted blanket.

"Okay, you were right, this is so much better than the floor," Evan says, sighing happily, and Tommy grins, and rubs his nose on the back of Evan's neck, and kisses the curve of his ear.

"Tomorrow I'll look for some blinds or something we can put on the skylight, okay? It would probably help if it didn't feel so exposed, right?"

There's a long, silent beat. "You don't have to do that just for me," Evan says eventually.

"Eh, it gets too bright in there anyway. I'm an old man, remember, I need all the help sleeping I can get. And besides," Tommy adds quietly. "I want to do things for you."

"Oh, well in that case," Evan says. "Yeah, I think it would help."

"Then we'll do it," Tommy says simply. They lie there for a few minutes, listening to the wind. The rain is still heavy, but it sounds like the worst of the weather system is receding, blowing away to wherever storms go when they've blown out all their furious energy. Evan's breathing has evened out, and the tension is receding from his body as the storm gets quieter and quieter.

“Do you, uh, do you remember that storm?” Evan asks. He doesn’t have to specify which storm.

“I do, actually. I was supposed to be doing some training runs that night, but all non-emergency flights got grounded. And then the next day, everybody and their granny heard about the guy who literally got struck by lightning. That was pretty memorable.”

Evan sighs. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess it was, wasn’t it?”

There’s this feeling welling up inside his chest like water from an underground spring. It’s this combination of marvel and abject gratitude and a dash of there but for the grace of God go I, and Tommy is searching for the right words to try and tell Evan what he’s thinking.

“I’m really glad you’re here, sweetheart,” is what comes out.

Evan wriggles happily underneath him. “Yeah, me too, babe.”

“No, I mean –” Tommy clears his throat against the sudden lump. “I mean, you don’t know how glad I am you’re here. There’s so many things that – that could have taken you away from me before I even got the chance to have you. And I would never have known – I wouldn’t have even known you were missing from my life.”

"Yeah," Evan says softly. "Yeah, I think about that sometimes, too. When Chimney told me about saving you from that explosion, back in the day... he was laughing about it, kind of, but I kept thinking, like. That could have been it. No more Tommy."

"No us," Tommy murmurs.

"No us." Evan cranes his neck around. They can't quite kiss, not at this angle, but Tommy can press his forehead against Evan's temple and breathe him in. The smell of his nice moisturizer and under that the smell of his skin, so fragile and so dear.

[allllium]

Sleepover

~ Soft!Jason is the best Jason

~ WC: 1,566 [Fluff, Hurt/Comfort]

- You and Jason have a sleepover

You and Jason have been dating for a couple months at this point and he has yet to sleepover at your house. Not only that but he's never allowed you to sleep at his overnight. For a while you didn't know whether or not to be offended by this but Jason quickly assured you that wasn't the case.

You know Jason went through some shit, as much as he's tried to hide it, the scar on his chest isn't something he can easily hide from the light. Although he's yet to explain everything to you, you try your best to understand some things he simply can't do.

Once you finally accepted that spending the night with Jason wasn't something you'd be able to do, he surprised you.

“Hey sweetheart.” He greets you as you answer the phone.

“Hey Jay, what's up?” You don't know why he's calling you only an hour before he's coming over for dinner, but to each their own.

“Nothing much. I was just wondering how you felt about having dinner over at my place?”

“Oh um yeah we can do that. Is there any reason?”

“Do I need a reason to cook for the one I love?” He was gonna cook at your house anyway.

“You know you were gonna have to cook at my place anyway, what's really going on?”

“Nothing, baby. I'll see you later?”

“Yeah I'll be there.”

As suspicious as it was, you got ready and began your short journey to Jason's place. Even though you don't know what's about to happen you've eliminated a few options. There's no way he'd want you to come to his apartment if he was going to dump you. Not that he would either way. You think.

When you push open the door, you can see that Jason has already finished preparing dinner. He's now trying and failing to light candles on the table.

“Need help with that?” You ask him, taking off your shoes by the door.

“No, I got it.” He gets the candles lit and turns to greet you properly. With a very excited kiss from your boyfriend and a very fancy dinner, you know something is going on.

“Hi Jay.” You smile sweetly. Giving him a tender hug.

“Hi. I'm glad you're here.” Looking into his eyes you can see the vulnerability shining through.

You look around his apartment to see nothing but furniture. You're well aware of Jason's neat freak habit but somehow something seems different. You decide not to read anything into it, considering he constantly cleans your own apartment when he comes over.

“I'm glad too. But can I know why?” It's not that you don't want to be at his place, it's just that you rarely are. You can count on your hand the amount of times he has invited you to his instead of suggesting yours.

“I just want to enjoy a night here, with you.” That's vague.

“Okay? What's for dinner?” You decide to change the subject, he'll tell you what he's thinking about eventually.

You and Jason eat your dinner in almost complete silence. It's comfortable silence, not that awkward silence when you just don't know what to say. You can tell he's overthinking something but you don't know whether or not you should ask about it. The last thing you want to do is pressure him into talking.

Soon after you move onto the couch to watch a movie. Despite your insistence to clean the dishes before laying down, he drags you with him to watch a movie. Something you've never seen before and low-key have no interest in but you're happy just laying with him while he enjoys it.

“Mm Jay.” You poke at his shoulder and try to get his attention. He quickly looks up at you from his position with his head laying in your lap.

“What's up sweetness?” You can barely hear him though the sleepiness coating his voice.

“I should probably go.” You whisper. This is usually the point where Jason politely but firmly kicks you out. He always tries his best not to be mean about it.

“No?” He says as a question.

“What do you mean? You want me to stay a little longer?” Your heart beats faster as you realize what he might mean. This is ridiculous. So he might want you to stay the night. No need to have a heart attack over it. It's just sleeping.

“Can you stay the night?” He asks, even quieter than before, like he's prepared for you to say no.

“Of course I can.” You immediately confirm, continuing to scratch his scalp as if your heart's not about to beat out of your chest.

“I'm sorry I haven't asked you before.” He begins to explain, you try to tell him he doesn't need to but he continues. “I've wanted to for a while now but I haven't been able to. It's because of you, I have nightmares and I've been too scared to really deal with them. But you make me feel more relaxed than I have ever been.”

“I make you relaxed?”

“What? Is that the only thing you got from that?” He seems genuinely surprised at your single question.

“Well yeah. I like knowing that you feel relaxed around me.”

“You're not worried or anything?” He pulls his head out of your lap to make eye contact as you talk.

“Worried? About what?” You raise your eyebrows in confusion and try to think about something you should be worried about. There's nothing you can think of.

“Well I don't know. Like having your sleep interrupted or having to deal with me in the middle of the night.” The more he talks the more anxious he gets. You can tell he's starting to doubt his decision to ask you to stay.

“Of course not. It's not like I get enough sleep anyway and I am more than happy to help you if that's what you need, at any time.”

“You really do need to get more sleep.”

“Okay Mr falling asleep on me.” You roll your eyes in sarcasm.

“C'mon that's on you. You can't play with my hair and expect me not to react. I'm only human after all.”

“Hmm I'm not too sure about that, you're too perfect to be human.” He gives you a big grin as he stands off the couch and starts to pull you off as well.

“Then I guess we'll be aliens together.” He pulls you into him and looks deep into your eyes.

“Such a sweet talker.” You rebut, trying to keep distracted from the butterflies filling your stomach.

“Yeah, just for you.” He spins you both in the direction of his bedroom. Yeah those butterflies are too strong to ignore.

Sitting on his bed, he stands off to the side of it, contemplating something.

“It's okay Jay, I can go if you need? Or sleep on the couch?” You try to stand but he immediately pushes you back down.

“No fucking way.”

“Are you gonna come sit with me?”

“Yes. I'm just thinking.”

“About?” You gently reach over and pull his hand into yours. Softly coaxing him closer.

“This. Us.”

“Hm all good things?”

“Yeah all good.” He smiles and joins you on the bed.

“Good. I really like you.”

“I really like you too.” You can't hide your smile once you see the slight red tint his face has taken. “Do you want something better to sleep in?”

“Yes please.” Without another word, he grabs you some clothes of his, and lets you change privately.

Soon enough you're laying on your side in his bed with him pressed up behind you. His arms quickly make their way over your body to pull you as close as possible.

“This might be the comfiest I've ever been.” He sleepily tells you, warm breath hitting the back of your neck.

“Me too. Your bed is extremely comfortable.”

“I hope so, I want you here all the time.”

“That can be arranged.” You dig yourself deeper into his bed and arms. You feel as if you've been buried in a giant cocoon of warmth and you never want to leave.

It doesn't take long for you both to fall into a deep sleep, and although you expected it, neither one of you wakes up throughout the night.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Jason greets you sweetly from his place by the stove. The smell of pancakes overwhelms you.

“Good morning Jay. Why are you up so early?” You sit on the counter next to the stove, watching him move gracefully as he cooks.

“I wanted to thank you. I know pancakes aren't the best thank you gift but it's all I have at the moment.”

You quickly cut off his rambling, “thank you gift? For what?”

“For staying with me. Last night was the first night in a long time I haven't woken up from a nightmare.”

“Oh Jay, you don't need to thank me for that. I'm more than happy to be with you.”

You hop off the counter and take the spatula out of his hand. You place your hands on either side of his face and pull him in for a gentle kiss.

“I really like you.” He whispers against your lips.

“I really like you too Jay.” You whisper back, smiles blooming on both your faces.

[aangelinakii]

PERFECT FACE.

— scars are just surface.

summary : jason, littered with scars, has felt self-conscious of himself ever since he was resurrected. you're here to keep him grounded.

note : this is based off a passage i saw on pinterest, which is the passage of a real book, so i'll include that right at the end so everybody knows i'm not claiming ownership over it bleh :P

potential tw : mention of cuts and scars mentioned in detail, but not sh just general injuries and ailments

dark oil caught under his short nails, jason scrubbed and scrubbed until the soap foamed and stripped his skin of the roughness of the night before; he'd never come home so exhausted, barely kicking off his boots and removing his red helmet before tumbling into bed beside you.

twisting the metal handle on the tap, water came gushing out the faucet, and he continued to scrub at the grime he'd left, seeping into the lines on his palm.

jason wasn't one to wake up late, but when he only found his way back home at four this morning, when the pitch sky was bleeding blue, maybe he could forgive himself this once for waking up at six in the evening, the colour outside not too indifferent from the one he'd said goodnight to.

he'd heard you come back home a few minutes ago, in the time he was examining his face in the mirror.

it had been years — far too long — since he woke up, dripping from head to toe in a fluorescent green liquid, his body feeling suddenly too heavy, unsure how to hold himself upright.

by now he'd gotten used to it, how he needed to be soft with his hands, despite the sheer size of them, along with the rest of him; he needed to stay mindful of how he handles things, for the biceps that bulged beneath any t-shirt channeled the strength to knock a guy out with a single punch.

yet, he's always been considering how to behave towards others, that jason still hadn't really come to terms with how to treat himself; how to look in the mirror without a pang of nostalgia for the little boy before everything that had happened. how to look in the mirror without a pang of self-loathing forming beneath his ribs, for the scars that littered his face rendered him unrecognisable, if you took away the rambo-strong body.

behind him the handle jiggled, and the door opened, your soft footsteps entering the room, and jason leaned down to splash the cold water over his sleep-smooth face, coolness running over his tired, puffy eyes.

"good morning, mister todd," you chuckled, running a hand over his t-shirt-clad back, where you could feel the muscles stretching and moving, no doubt a few knots here and there you'd offer to tackle later on the couch.

as soon as you'd locked the door back behind you when you came home, you were in the bedroom changing into comfy, casual clothes, not wanting to stay any longer in your work attire than you had to.

"sleep well?"

the room went quiet as jason turned off the tap, and you passed him a clean face flannel from the towel rack — he gave a still-sleepy grunt as his face disappeared behind it.

with a small step forward, you brought your arms up to wrap around jason's waist, your chest coming to press against his back, chin resting right on an especially knotty spot, for jason almost flinched away.

he gave a great sigh, and your eyes fluttered closed, the side of your face turning to rest against the fabric of his top, slightly sweaty from his sleep, the natural musky scent of him filling your nostrils.

when you awoke that morning, jason was still clad in a gunpowder-ridden leather jacket and his cargo pants, ripped and torn by his hamstring on one leg. after waking yourself up a bit, you'd exerted all your energy trying to peel off the jacket and unbuckle his pants, almost tripping over his discarded boots in the meantime.

it seemed he'd kept on his t-shirt, but had pulled on a pair of linen pyjama pants since then.

as you stood with him, allowing your own stress from the work day to dissipate into atoms in the small bathroom around you, the air grew still. you knew what jason was like when he was groggy and just barely awake, but this was... different.

eyes fluttering back open, you pushed yourself up onto your toes and peered over jason's shoulder, only to find his grey-green eyes already piercing into the glass of the mirror.

it wasn't difficult to notice the blemishes along his skin, cuts and bruises bleeding into flesh all up and down his arms, scars lighter in colour against his pale olive. but you looked at this face every day — if you could sit and stare at him, and never have to sleep again, that's absolutely what you would do — and you could tell when jason had acquired some new additions.

tonight he had a small chunk from the shell of his ear missing, the skin near it pink and angry, and a still-open cut slicing through the arch of one of his brows. his nose hadn't been forgotten about, either, a cut — not as bad as the others — slicing down the side and to his nostrils.

how he gets himself into these situations, you'll never know — but jason knows you'll never ask, and you know he'll never tell.

a less-than-content sigh shuddered past your lips as you pulled away from him and stepped round to his side, eyes never leaving his in the mirror, although his own gaze was set on himself. something almost... disappointed? in himself?

"hey," you hummed, nudging his forearm carefully, noting the harsh grip on the flannel he'd dried his face with. "you seem upset, did something happen while i was out?"

it took him a minute, but jason carefully jutted his bottom lip out and vaguely shook his head.

examining his expression further, there was no doubt about it: something was up, but that was about where your detective skills were limited. there was no way of knowing what.

a silence rolled along, your stare soft but unrelenting as you kept it on jason, trying to catch every micro-expression, every accidental muscle twitch — but it seemed jason couldn't keep things secret for long.

his stature deflated, the strong wall you usually knew him to be crumbling down a few blocks, and his eyes flickered down to the sink, pale droplets still trickling down the drain.

"i'm really ugly."

eyebrows furrowed together like you were personally offended, you took an assertive step in front of jason, slotting yourself as well as you could within the gap between him and the sink.

with an iron grip, although not trying to scare him, you took hold of his arms, staring up at him but not forcing him to look at you.

"i can't believe you would say that," you couldn't help but blurt out. it was the wrong move, could make him think something was wrong with being insecure. "do you know how the room lights up every time you step inside? how my heart flutters when you speak?"

the pressure of your palms lightened against him, but your thumbs pressed in slightly. "sometimes you meet my eyes when we're brushing our teeth together, and you smile with a mouthful of toothpaste, and i don't stop thinking about it until you do it again the next day."

that seemed to cause the twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

"and when i wake up before you, i want to stay in bed to see how peaceful you look asleep, knowing you're probably so tired from patrol, but you still made it back here, into bed, with me. your heart is just as kind as your eyes."

a line formed, connecting the edge of his smile to the cut on his nose, and his eyes finally mustered up the courage to meet yours, wondering if they're as kind as you said they were.

then the smile faltered, and jason looked back up at the mirror. "i think i'm just not used to myself yet. i still feel like i should be... little."

your hands trailed up his arms, to find purchase on the sides of his head, fingers moving through black hair, all over the place from his long sleep.

"you're exactly who you were always meant to be. maybe it came about a bit faster than it was supposed to, but you've adjusted so well." you swiped his fringe back, out of his eyes, revealing the extent of that cut in his eyebrow, causing you to sigh softly. his eyes were back on you, admiring — how could someone possibly feel this way about him?

as your gaze swept over the rest of his face, dusting along the healed scar at the corner of his mouth, one drawing a line vertically down his cheekbone, warmth seeped through your bones, a comfortable ache settling in your ribcage. he had scratches and scars peeking out from the neckline of his top — and not to forget the chunk missing from his ear that you were trying to avoid touching, more for his sake than yours.

"you're so handsome, jason." you couldn't help it. you met his eyes again, smile tired from your long day, but that didn't make it any less true.

before you, jason gave a shaky exhale, struggling to maintain eye contact. but he was trying, really, really trying.

"doesn't that face get you everything you want?" it came as a chuckle, a soft shake of your head in disbelief. maybe because you were always looking for it, because you believed it so, but his family did everything they could for him; not because they had to, or had been asked to, but because they wanted to, because they loved him. it went similarly with you. there was just something charming about him that he didn't seem to realise.

finally, a soft pressure formed around your back, the familiar hold of an arm.

jason appreciated words, but that didn't mean he was always the best with them — but that's what was so special about him, he always tried. "yeah," he smiled. "it got me you."

and for the first time that day — much too late if anyone asked your opinion — jason dipped down to meet your lips, sweetly brushing that work weight from your shoulders.