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#my god hes a jerk to his sister
charliemwrites · 4 months
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Sniff, sniff…. Woof.
“Johnny? Johnny, baby, come here!”
Your big wolf boy comes bounding in from the living room as you shut the front door, immediately rearing up to sniff at your neck and face and hands. Satisfied, he licks your cheek and drops down again.
“Alright, listen up, handsome.” You grab his cheeks, scritching along his jaw and grinning as his big blue eyes go dopey. “My sister and her husband are going to stay the night. You are going to be a polite boy because you love me and don’t want to give my sister anything to talk shit about. Yes?”
A sneeze that he (for once) aims away from you. You laugh, drop a kiss between his eyes.
“Good talk.”
As usual, he follows you through the house as you shed clothes and shoes and bags. You ramble about the grocery store and your day, mostly just to get it out so your headspace can be clear for the evening. Helps to have a little (relatively) listener following at your heels.
He camps out in the bathroom while you shower, licking the glass door until you scold him - per usual. And again when he tries to lick the clean water off your leg. Only starts getting restless and grumpy when he sees you change into “outside” clothes rather than pjs.
You groan as he tries to herd you away from your own closet. Must be mixed with a shepherding dog because he’s a damn pushy jerk.
“Enough, bud,” you sigh. “Look, I don’t wanna go much either. But it’ll be worse if I don’t.”
He mouths off at you, a new thing he’s started up that reminds you of a husky. Maybe you should get one of those doggy DNA tests.
“I know I know,” you coo, shimmying into a pair of pants that your sister won’t be able to tease makes your ass look flat. “I’d rather snuggle up and watch 90s vampire movies too. But I already said I’d go and this means I’ll be able to skip seeing her on her birthday.”
More grumbles, but at least he climbs up on the bed to pout. You finish dressing and head for the vanity - no way you can go out with your sister without makeup.
As you pass, you roll him over to scratch his belly - politely ignoring his reaction. God, you really need to get him in for a neutering. If you catch him humping one more pillow—
When it’s time to go, you drop down to give him one last hug.
“Be good, baby. I’ll be home soon with some new friends. I love you.”
After dinner, your sister’s husband suggests a bar. And, of course, it’s a sports bar. Man can’t go more than an hour or two without.
You and your sister chat while his eyes stayed glued to the screens. Well, she chats. You mostly just provide the audience she constantly craves, the validation she always needs.
At some point your excuse yourself to order another drink, weaving between the patrons and sighing at a chance to let your face rest for a moment. While you’re waiting, someone brushes up close behind you, startles you.
“Och, sorry, hen. Madhouse in here.”
You blink, tilt your head back to see a gorgeous pair of blue eyes shining down at you. Takes your breath away.
“Oh! Um, no problem, I get it.”
You try to scoot as much as you can - but it really is packed, especially at the bar - and the man takes the opportunity to occupy any free space you have.
Not that you’re complaining. He’s got the type of face they put on magazines with hooks like “sexiest man alive.” A killer grin as he winks down at you, arm bracing on the bar.
“Buy ya a drink for bein’ so rude?”
You’ve barely gotten the start of, “oh it’s alright,” out before he’s signaling the bartender. His stature and presence gets him instant service though, so you let it go, fidgeting restlessly.
Even his voice sounds like a sin worth committing. He’s too attractive. Too handsome to not know it; and definitely too handsome to be chatting you up and ordering you a drink.
“You here with anyone?” he asks with an edge that makes your spine prickle. Yet you almost feel like you imagine it. His tone is normal, his expression hasn’t changed and yet. Something subsonic in the timbre of his voice, maybe.
“My sister and her husband,” you reply.
“No husband of your own?”
You try to laugh, it comes out strained and awkward. “Ah, the only man in my life has four legs.”
Instead of looking annoyed by the brush off, his eyes spark.
“Dog?”
“Yup!” And okay, alarms in your head aside, you’re always happy to talk about Johnny. He’s a safe topic. You fish your phone out of your back pocket and show him your lock screen.
The man takes a quick look at the screen, an odd, private smile flicking across his face. There and then gone, before those intense eyes are locked on you again.
“He friendly?”
You laugh a bit, perk up as the bartender returns with your drink. “Not with men. Thanks for buying!”
as you turn to go, he grabs your hip. Not hard, or even too low. But you gasp quietly, the heat of his palm searing through your clothes.
“Name’s soap, by the way.”
Infinitely more nervous now, you stutter out your own and then retreat to your sister and her husband.
Spend the rest of the night pretending not to watch Soap. He doesn’t return the courtesy, eyes trained on you, lurking around the bar. So visible it seems to only you. Something about the way the light catches his eyes reminds you of when Johnny senses a threat. When he gets low and growly, hair standing on end, eyes focused.
Soap looks like he’s hunting you.
Thankfully, your sister complains about the noise after an hour or so and the three of you leave. You’re relieved to be going home.
As you step inside, you call for Johnny again.
“Wait, who the hell is Johnny?” your sister’s husband asks, an odd look on his face. “You’re living with someone?”
You snort a bit. Does he seriously not remember you talking about your dog?
“Yeah,” you joke, “he’s the love of my life, my one and only—”
You hear the clack of the doggy door and call out again. Johnny trots in panting.
“Did you just come in from a run?” you chuckle, putting a hand out in greeting.
He comes right up to you, presses his nose to the spot where “Soap” grabbed you and snuffles.
“I know, I smell wrong,” you soothe.
He grumbles and licks at your shirt, but you gently nudge him away, turning as your sister scoffs.
“You still do that thing where you talk to them like people?” She asks. “Don’t you think that’s… childish?”
“Johnny’s basically a person in a human body,” you reply, laughing. “You’ll see.”
“Dogs shouldn’t have human names,” her husband pipes up, reaching for Johnny.
“No, wait—”
Johnny snaps just shy of his fingers and puts himself bodily between you two.
“Easy!” you yelp, hooking your hand in his collar. “Sorry, I meant to warn you - Johnny’s shy with men.”
“He almost took my bloody hand off!”
“He’s just protective. Johnny, heel.”
He stops snarling, but plants himself at your feet right there, eyes sharply trained on your brother in law. Your sister snorts.
“How are you supposed to get men back here, then?”
You jump as Johnny barks, a full deep one that your rarely ever hear. Your sister startles too, then scowls.
“I don’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “Anyway, let me just get the sheets for the spare room and we can call it a night.”
Johnny stays close at your heels the entire time, though you swear he throws a nasty glance back at your sister’s husband.
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strang3lov3 · 6 months
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Halloween Special
Summary: You dress up as Joel for Halloween, and Tommy helps you enhance your costume. Joel fucking hates your costume. God, you're annoying.
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Warnings: smut, arguing, oral (f receiving) male masturbation, joel jerks himself off while eating u out, southern phrases, unprotected piv, rough sex, Joel stuffs your mouth with part of his costume to shut you up, creampie, secret Ron Swanson (Joel dresses up like a pirate the way Ron Swanson does), yee haw mothafuckas
A/N: This story absolutely can be read as a standalone, but if you like these two and would like to see more of their antics, they the Mall Rats and you can read more about them in my masterlist ! thank you @papipascalispunk for editing ❤️❤️ btw it is my birthday🎂🎉🥳i'm 21 today! And if you were feeling so inclined i wouldn't say no to some birthday wishes <3
“Why do all of these women’s costumes look like they’re from Victoria’s Secret?”, you ask as you and Joel rifle through the pile of twenty year old Halloween costumes. You’ve just gotten back from an old Spirit Halloween store with Joel, and now you’re sorting through costumes for the people of Jackson at his house. Some are salvageable and in good condition, some are old and moldy. 
Halloween doesn’t make much sense post-apocalypse. If there’s any candy left, it’s all rotten. It’s not practical for kids to trick-or-treat for baked goods and apples, the few sweets Jackson has to offer. So instead, Maria and Tommy are hosting a Halloween potluck at their home. All are invited and encouraged to dress up, bring food. The party’s tonight.
“Who knows,” Joel mumbles, “Just how it was.”
“Did you dress all slutty too?”
“‘Course I did. Turned all kinds of tricks back in my prime.”
“Then here–”, you toss Joel a nurse costume, “Be a slutty nurse for the party.”
“Yeah, no thanks.”
You snicker to yourself as you sort the piles. You’ve got girls’ and boys’ costumes sorted by size, and along with mens’ and women’s. “What are you gonna dress up as, then?”
“I dunno. Do I have to?”, Joel asks, “I don’t even wanna go.”
“Too bad, you have to. And you have to dress up, too. It’s mandatory.”
Joel rolls his eyes. “What are you going as, then?” you shrug in response. Joel tosses you a costume, the guy in the picture seemingly wearing a sort of hat shaped like a thumb. “Knucklehead’, it reads. So fucking stupid. “Get it?”
“Ha-ha,” you throw the costume back in his direction. The costumes are all sorted now, so Joel bags up each pile to take to Maria. “Do you want any help with those bags?” you ask. 
“Nah, I got it. Thanks, though.” 
“Will I see you tonight?”
“Depends. How slutty you dressin’?”  Joel opens the door and grabs the bags of costumes.
“You know, the usual. Lingerie and cat ears.”
“Mmm. Definitely stayin’ home, then. Get the door for me?” Joel asks as he’s standing in the doorway with the bags in his hands. 
“Sure,” you nod. And as Joel leaves and you shut his door, his flannel draped over a chair catches your eye. You have the best costume idea. 
You get to Maria and Tommy’s around six. Tommy greets you at the door, hair slicked back and wearing a cape, his usual toothy grin enhanced by plastic fangs. There’s red makeup resembling dripping blood from the corners of his mouth. “Hey you,” he says. “What do we have here?”
You clear your throat and speak in a lower affectation, “Shut up and quit smilin’,” before breaking into a fit of giggles. 
Tommy laughs too. “Joel?”
“Bingo,” you reply. You’re wearing Joel’s flannel and a simple pair of jeans, with an exaggerated scowl. 
“Costume is spot on, ‘cept for one thing,” you raise your eyebrows and Tommy continues, “You’re much easier on the eyes than he is.”
“Oh, stop it,” you blush and smack his arm. “Speaking of, Joel here yet?”
“Oh, yeah. Off in the kitchen or something. He’s gonna hate your costume, darlin’. Absolutely fuckin’ hate it.” 
“Good, that was the plan,” you smile mischievously. 
“I like how you roll, sister,” Tommy drawls. “An’ in fact…” Tommy looks around himself before moving a hand to your waist and stealthily guiding you to a nearby bedroom, his baby’s nursery. 
“What are we doing, Tommy?”
“Shh, be cool, be cool,” Tommy tells you. He loves your costume, but he’s got an idea. A great idea, a way to improve it. He picks up a bottle of baby powder from the changing table and sits you down, then sprinkles some in your hair and combs it through with his fingers. “Now we’re cookin’,” he says. “Gotta get you that silver fox look, like Joel.” 
 “Ahh,” you hum in agreement. Should have thought of that one. That’s good.
“And–” Tommy continues, “You gotta talk like him too. You know how to do that?” 
“Sure,” you clear your throat and speak in a low tone again, mocking Joel. “Fuck this, fuck that, fuck you–”
“Oh, very close,” Tommy laughs, “Nah, you gotta get southern on his ass, sweetheart. You know what I’m sayin’?” you shake your head no. “That’s okay. M’gonna teach ya.”
Tommy spends the next ten minutes running through a list of southern words and phrases, teaching you how to speak in a southern accent. At the end, you’re both in a fit of giggles. “God, sweetheart, I love ya. Joel’s gonna shit a brick.” 
You come out of the nursery with Tommy and make your way into the kitchen where Joel’s sitting. He’s at the counter, alone, snacking on some carrot cake. You’re still trying to compose yourself, biting your lip to hide your smile. “Howdy, pardner.”
“Uh, hi,” Joel eyes you and Tommy suspiciously. He does not like the way you’re both smiling, definitely causing trouble. “The hell are you two so happy about?”
“Nothin’.” you say, looking at Tommy. He subtly nods in approval. Don’t pronounce the ‘ing’ at the end of those words. It’s ‘In’. Nothing, nothin’. Fucking, fuckin’. Something, somethin’. “Uh, Joel, what’s your costume?”
“What’s it look like? I’m a pirate,” he grumbles. He’s got an…interesting take on a pirate costume. He’s wearing a plain button down shirt, striped pajama bottoms, and a long red tie tied around his tummy. You’re pretty sure there was a men’s pirate costume in the pile that you had sorted from earlier. 
Tommy brushes your hair from your ear and whispers something. You smile, then speak to Joel. “Well, don’t you look cuter than a dimple on a bug’s ass.” 
“Did you just have a stroke?” Joel squints at you, “Wait a fuckin’ second–that’s my shirt.”
You look down at your shirt in mock surprise, “Well slap butter on my ass and call me a biscuit! I guess it is your shirt, Joel!”
Joel’s blushing, redder than a tomato. His flannel is ill fitting, but to Joel, it looks perfect on you. He swallows thickly. You’ve got one less button closed than what he wears, and he’s fighting the urge to let his eyes fall lower. “Where did you even–never mind. You - I told you - God dammit, this ain’t–”
“This ain’t funny,” you interrupt, matching his tone perfectly. 
Tommy’s giggling like an idiot next to you, then faces his palm up by his hip for a high five. You slap his palm and this enrages Joel, who glares at Tommy. “Don’t encourage this. The fuck is the matter with you?” Goddamn little brothers. 
“What, don’t y’all like my costume? I’m you.” 
“‘Course you are,” Joel grumbles. “Though a witch would be more fitting,” He looks at you closer, “What the hell is wrong with your hair?”
“I’m a silver fox just like you, Joel.”
Joel rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Do not call me that. I can’t even look at you right now. Jesus Christ.” He eats the last of his cake, then stomps off, away from you and Tommy. 
“You,” a voice interrupts. It’s Maria, dressed as a black cat. She’s so cute. “You two are playing with fire. Tommy, leave this girl alone. Joel’s gonna wring her neck.”
Tommy shrugs. “It was her idea.” 
Maria doesn’t care. She smacks Tommy upside the head and ushers him towards the living room leaving you all by yourself. Tommy turns back to you, busted, he mouths. So you look for Joel. 
You make your way through the living room, check the porch. It’s only when you’re in a hallway that you feel a strong hand grip your forearm and drag you to the guest bedroom that you realize where Joel stormed off to. “What in tarnation?” you exclaim, and Joel locks the door. “This bedroom ain’t big enough for the two of us.” 
Joel rolls his eyes. “Shut up and take off your pants. Do it now,” he grunts. You smirk and begin unbuttoning your - Joel’s - shirt. “Pants,” he scolds you, annoyed. “You keep my shirt on for this.” 
You quit unbuttoning the shirt, “Thought you don’t like my costume?”
“I don’t,” Joel replies. You can see the tent in his pants, how achingly hard he is. You smirk. He’s all pissed off and worked up, a brutal combination. Your favorite combination. All because you’re wearing his shirt. Not really, though. You know the gray hair and the southern accent are what’s really pissing him off. You wearing his shirt is just fine. 
In a fit of giggles, you can barely get the words out, “You’re hard as a match–wait,” you pause, unable to control your laughter. You catch your breath before continuing, “Shit fire and save matches, you’re hard as a r–”
“Don’t have time for this,” Joel grumbles. In one fell swoop, he unbuttons your jeans and pulls them and your panties down your legs, tossing them elsewhere. He shoves you on the bed before kneeling at the edge, pulling you by your hips. The cold air has your skin erupting in goosebumps that are then soothed by his hot breath on your thighs, as he presses sloppy kisses into your skin. “You have no–” he kisses your other thigh, “Fuckin’ idea,” then drags his tongue up your soft flesh, “What you’re doin’ to me, wearin’ my shirt like that. M’gonna devour you, sweetheart.”
Joel startles you by licking a long, fat stripe right up your hot and slick core, groaning as he tastes you, “Fuck,” you moan, fingers carding through Joel’s hair. You know this is getting tired. Seriously. Time and place. But even with his head between your thighs, you can’t stop. You struck gold. “Heaven to Betsy, it seems I have a visitor!” 
Joel sighs as he pulls away from your core and stares at you, unimpressed. “You done yet?”
“Darn tootin’,” You get no reaction from Joel. “Yes...I’m done.” 
“So fuckin’ sick of you. S’not funny. I don’t talk like that.”
And he’s right back where he was. First he’s inhaling you, your sweet scent, he licks another long stripe up your pussy, his tongue soft and firm against your core. He drags his tongue through your folds, moaning into your skin and savoring the way you taste.  He keeps one arm wrapped around your thigh while the other is pulling down his striped pajama bottoms just over his cock, the waistband resting beneath his balls. Joel spits on your pussy, then drags his thumb up and down your core, collecting the mixture on his fingertips before spreading it on his cock. He grips himself tight, stroking himself up and down as his tongue teases your entrance, exploring your sex.
You can feel his shoulder jerk with every movement of his hand on his cock. You wish you could see it, his shaft shiny with your slick and the head red and swollen.
“Good lord,” Joel whispers against you. He eats you like he’s starved, eyes closed and lips wrapped around your clit. His fingertips dig into your thighs at a bruising pressure, his nose is buried in the coarse hair that covers your mound. “Fuckin’ good…so fuckin’ good,” Your skin, your musk, your arousal. He’s addicted to it, addicted to the taste of your pleasure. And Christ, the way his flannel drapes over your stomach, peeking over the tops of your thighs. He could die a happy man right here, between your thighs. 
“Joel,” you cry, rocking your hips against his face. You’re moving too much. He bites your thigh and holds you firmer, his bicep flexing against you under the soft fabric of his shirt.
He alternates between lapping at your dripping core, sucking your sensitive clit, and fucking you on his tongue. Whatever he wants to do to you, because this is his treat. His.
“Yeah Joel, right there,” you whimper. You can feel it in your thighs, your gut, that familiar closeness is back. Under Joel’s tongue, you’re unraveling, coming undone for him. “M’so close.”
“This ain’t about you,” he growls. “Y’got yer kicks already, didn’t you? Teasin’ me in your little getup. Pokin’ fun and bein’ mean t’me.” 
“No, Joel, I wasn’t–”
“I don’t care, sweetheart,” Joel says softly as he works himself. You hear the slick sounds of his fist slapping against his skin. “I don’t care. This ain’t about you. M’doin’ this f’me. Don’t you dare come.” 
But you do. Not out of defiance, not to piss him off further. You just can’t help yourself. The way he purrs and growls into your skin, the way his arm holds you in place so firm. And his tongue, working pure fucking magic against you. Your orgasm ripples through you violently, taking you by storm. It feels hot and electric, intense and overpowering. Generously, he works you through it, licking and lapping at you, pulling every ounce of pleasure from your body that he can get. Static rings in your ears and you’re limp, pliant on the bed, eyes closed in pure bliss.
When you finally open your eyes, you realize Joel is standing above you, breathing heavily. Cock still achingly hard in his fist. “You weren’t supposed to do that,” he breathes.
“It was an accident,” you reply.
“Accident, my ass.” You bite your lip to hide your smirk. Joel knows that look on your face. Mischief. He reads you like a book, knows that you’re not done with your little act as you pull him onto the bed, flip him on his back and mount him. He knows exactly what you’re planning. Something about saving a horse, riding a cowboy. Of course you are. God, you’re exhausting.
You reach between your bodies and line his head up with your entrance, then sink down on him. Slowly, savoring the way he stretches you out. It hurts. He didn’t use his fingers on you. But you’re committed to what you have planned.
“Joel,” you breathe, rocking your hips slowly against him. “I have something to tell you.”
“What could you possibly need to tell me now, motormouth?” That devious smirk on your face…he knows what you’re about to say, answering his own question. He rolls his eyes, exasperated, “For the love of god…Go on, then. Get it out of your system, numb nuts.”
“YEEEE HAWWW!” you squeal, and Joel lunges forward to wrap a hand over your mouth. He did not think you were gonna be that loud. The party’s loud, but not that loud. “Jesus Christ,” he hisses. “The fuck is the matter with you? You cannot scream like that…Christ almighty.”
He flips you over, pulls out of you and rips the tie off of his belly. “My fuckin’ turn, now. Drivin’ me to drink,” He stuffs it into in your mouth, “Can you breathe?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s unfortunate,” he retaliates. He wraps your legs around his waist and lines up with your entrance once more, burying himself to the hilt in a quick shove with his hips. You gasp, your voice muffled by his tie.
He finds his pace quickly, pistoning into you at a devastating pace. Hard and fast and deep, like you love. “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” he pants. “You’re impossible. You know that? Impossible.”
You can’t smile, can’t speak. With your mouth stuffed full you can do is look at him with wide eyes, and all Joel can think is god, you have no business being so pretty and so fucking irritating at the same time. Joel’s shirt is buttoned halfway up your body and he watches your tits bounce under the fabric with every thrust of his hips. Your nipples taut and hard, the shirt falling away from your torso and framing your body just so, like you’re a painting, just for him.
“God,” Joel grunts. You wrap your legs tighter around him, hold his forearms that cage your head. You look into his eyes as he fucks you, his usual sparkling brown eyes nearly black with lust. And it might get you into trouble, but you need more. Need to feel him, taste him. Pulling the tie out of your mouth, you lift your head, kissing and sucking up his neck and all the way to his jaw and his cheek still slick with your own arousal. You taste yourself on his skin as you kiss his face, lips just centimeters away from meeting his own.
Joel makes all sorts of strangled noises as he pounds into you. His muscles tense and you can feel his cock twitch and stiffen inside you, and with his last few strong and deep thrusts, he spills into you. He comes hard, painting your walls with rope after rope of his hot seed.
He catches his breath on top of you as you trace lazy patterns into his back and his scalp, his head resting against the mattress. Completely drained of his energy. You can feel him going soft. “Joel, I need a rag or something before I make a mess on this bed.”
“Oh, yeah,” He looks up, raising his eyebrows when he sees his tie in his peripheral vision. He takes it, 
“You weren’t s’posed to take this out of your mouth,” he says, “Least you stayed quiet for once. Maybe you could be quiet the rest of the night, hm?” he mumbles as he pulls out of you, wiping you down gently with the tie. He folds it up to keep the mess of his spend contained. “You do that for me?”
You smile. If only you weren’t all out of the sayings that Tommy taught you anyway. Joel helps dress you in your pants and underwear again, straightens out the buttons on your flannel. He tells you that you don’t have to give it back to him as you comb your fingers through his hair, taming it. “Joel?”
“Yeah, hon.”
“You really didn’t like my costume?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel smiles for the first time tonight, and exaggerates his own southern accent. “Bless your heart.”
You tilt your head, confused, “What’s that one?”
 “What, Tommy didn’t teach you that one?” You mumble a no and Joel hums. “S’a classic.”
“What’s it mean?”
“Well, I’d tell you to ask Tommy but you’re not allowed to hang out with him anymore,” Joel says. “Fuckin’ corrupted you. An’ it’s a shame, ‘cause I was startin’ to like you. God, he’s an asshole,” he complains, “And you are too, for that matter.”
You smile to yourself, then kiss Joel’s cheek before getting up to leave. Before you open the door, you turn to Joel, “Your costume sucks, by the way. Not even close to a pirate.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he replies. “Now get lost, you.”
When you leave, Joel adjusts his clothes. He clutches his tie in his hand, then leaves the bedroom, crashing into someone. It’s Tommy, wearing a shit-eating grin. Joel sighs, “What’d you teach her now?”
Tommy smirks. “Nothin’,” then slaps Joel on the ass, and Joel turns beet red. “Yee-haw, cowboy.”
Please please please reblog, send me asks, comment, let me know what you thought! Love your thoughts. It keeps me going and motivated to write for you all.
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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months
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Any new ideas for congratulations! It's triplets? Love the idea of Jason just freaking out and trying to figure out how to build a relationship with his kids while being made fun of by his family and said kids. Especially if he goes overprotective mode because Danny has clown trauma too and gets snagged by the joker
Jason watches as Danny- his son.- impatiently taps his fingers against the table. His boy's gaze was looking at everything, taking in the big fancy Wayne Mannor with a sort of disinterest he was not expecting of a child so young.
His sister and Brother- both with alarmingly similar names- were also disinterested, but Dani was swinging her legs, and Dan was tapping his spoon and fork against the table in a fast-paced drumming.
It's strange to know he would fidget a lot as a kid but he always resorted to finger tapping. Was the tripples little habit from him? He wonders what else they inherited and what he missed out on seeing.
"I don't understand," Jasmine said, overlooking the contract Bruce's lawyers wrote up. " Why would you want custody now? It's been five years."
"I didn't know." Jason swallows past the lump in his throat as she gives him an unimpressed stare over the paper. He feels Bruce place a hand on his shoulder, and the silent support allows him to continue. "If I have, I wouldn't have ever let them grow up without me."
"Jason doesn't want full custody," Tim cuts in with a soft voice that has tricked lesser men into selling their shares. He and the rest of his family are all sitting across from Jassmin Fenton, as she is carefully lured back to the manor to discuss their next step. "He just wants to be part of his kid's lives and would happily share that with you."
"Not telling him about the kids sort of played into that," Steph mutters tactlessly. Unfortunately, her voice carries, and the woman across from them bristles.
There is a tense moment where he thinks Jassmin is about to curse them all out before she sighs and slumps in her seat. "Well, it wasn't like I had a means to contact you when I found out. You gave me a fake name."
Jason winces. "I sort of forgot I told you my name was Petter."
"Wasn't a total lie" Dani chirps "It is your middle name."
Jasmine rubs her eyes. "Look, Jason, I don't want to stop you from seeing the kids, but this is all too much right now. I'm dealing with a lot right now-"
"You are currently homeless," Damian cuts in, causing Jasmine to stop in genuine bewilderment.
"No, we're not." Dan scoffs. "You were waiting for us at our house. Waiting to ambush us."
"The house that was on the street that Poison Ivy just destroyed," The boy says, showing everyone his phone screen. There, clear as day is, their home is nothing but rumble. Jasmine's face spams, and she quickly checks her phone, paling at what she reads.
"Oh, Ancients. It's gone. It's all gone," She whispers, gripping the phone. The three kids immediately stiffen, watching their mother with strange intensity. Too aware of what this means.
They were mature for their age, and that is never a good thing.
Oh gods. Did his children live on the streets? Had Jason's carelessness hurt his children like his parents have hurt him?
"Mom?" Danny asks and that seems to snap Jasmine out of her spirl.
"Hotel!" She gasps, hands shaking as she quickly starts tapping on her phone. Jason catches a glimpse of her screen and realizes she is making a to-do list. "I have to book a hotel room. Call the insurance company, go and try to salvage whatever we can....what else?"
"You can stay here, Fenton," Damian surprisingly offers. "Until your home is rebuilt"
"We couldn't possibly-"
"Hotels are expensive, and you must focus on other more important needs. Father certainly has the space."
Jason jerks into action. "This will also give me a chance to connect with the kids!"
Jasmine bites her lip, turning to her children. Jason could appreciate that she was willing to include them in big decisions. The three nodded, so she eventually sighs.
"Alright. But only until I can get our housing settled. And I'll pay rent"
Jason would argue but he recognized the look in her eye. She would not be sway from making payments. So he agrees, tapping his fingers on the table in a specific rhythm to make sure his family agrees too.
He knows it pains Bruce- the old man already thinks of the triplets as his grandchildren and the idea of charging them to live with him will kill him.
Jason notices the way Dan's eyes zero in on his tapping and the glance around the family members. He fights a proud grin when realization bleeds into his boy's eyes. He's got a smart one, likely aware of that the tapping is a form of Morse code.
Tim did say- after pulling up all files of the four- that his children had developed insane intelligence. Maybe he should get them tested for certification geniuses.
"Hey Mr. Jason," Dani suddenly speaks up.
"Yes Darling?"
"I suggest you remove your eyes from my mom before I remove them from your face." The little girl even punches her palm in a poor intimidation attempt. His heart melts.
Then his face turns a dark red hue at Jasmine's raised brow. Unwillingly flashes of thier last time being face-to face rise in his mind. He coughs awkwardly as his sons face become as protective as their sister, Dan cracking his knuckles and Danny reaching for a knife.
"Oh yeah" Tim deadpans watching the kids reaction "No need for DNA test. Those are definitely Jason's kids"
He agrees, he just hopes he can show his children he plans on sticking around and being the father they deserve.
No one notices Cass and Steph slip away to deal with Posion Ivy. Jason kinda wants to send her a thank you gift for making it possible to have his family move into the manor.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 months
Text
ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷ℯ ℐ 𝒸ℴ𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒻𝒾𝓍 𝒽𝒾𝓂
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
A/n- This is my third time begging for rafe requests 😵‍💫 I’m desperate
Warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, secret relationship, p in v, fem!Reader, hickeys, your brother is jj, readers adopted so anyone can read!!! Readers also kinda a jerk but she’s just a girl, mention of daddy issues,
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︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“He’s fucking insane.” Your brother mumbled under his breath, talking to Sarah. They were talking about Rafe, the same man whose bed you had been in no more than 24 hours ago.
She nodded, still upset about the arguement. You just looked out the window, the breeze felt amazing.
John B’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel as the music blared.
For some reason, your brother had managed to drag you on one of their trips, this time to the beach for a break. Your phone vibrated on your thigh, you looked at it to see a text from Rafe.
You looked around, at Pope who sat next to you, making sure no one saw the name light up on your phone. He wasn’t paying any attention, luckily.
The two of you had managed to keep the relationship secret for months, it was safer and better that way. For the both of you.
You opened up the message. He wasn’t much of a texter so it was odd.
“hey.”
You texted him a hi back, and he automatically responded by asking you what you were doing.
“Going to the beach with my brother and the rest of them. Why?”
“Oh i was gonna ask if you wanted to come over cuz I’m alone.”
“I would have come over if i knew earlier. Sorry. I’ll see you later maybe?”
“Okay”
You left him on read when JJ called your name, making you turn your phone off and look at him.
“Yeah?” You looked at him.
“I was asking if you brought the towels.” He said, voice laced with annoyance. He said your name twice.
“Yeah. I did.” You nodded, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. You seriously needed to stop letting your younger brother telling you what to do.
Soon after, the car was parked and you all left the car, you opened the trunk and everybody carried their things to the sand, where you all set up your things.
You lifted your arms, throwing your shirt onto the towel and then your shorts, so you were only in your bikini.
You sat down on a folding chair that was there, shutting your eyes. They all laughed and had fun, while you stayed away from them.
Later, Rafe texted you with a video. A video of him jerking off with a little message underneath saying he missed you. The man was always horny.
You got up, sighing and making your way to the group. You threw your shirt and shorts over your bikini.
“I gotta go do something. So I’m gonna take the car, you can find another way home.”
“What? That’s bullshit.” Jj started, his words slurred.
“It’s my car, and I have shit to do.”
“We’ll find another ride. It’s fine.” Sarah interrupted, you looked at them, she handed you the keys and you said goodbye.
“God I fuckin’ hate her sometimes.” He mumbled when you left, downing his drink.
“She’s your sister, she’s probably just going through a rough time.” Kiara defended.
“Yeah. You’re right.” He mumbled, remembering the argument that you had with your father before you left.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“omw” you texted Rafe as soon as you got into the car, practically speeding to his house. You got out the car, and you texted him you were there.
He came to the door and opened it, you were met with the sight of a towel wrapped around his waist, hair wet. He had just taken a shower.
You walked in, and the second you did, his lips were on yours.
“Missed you.” He mumbled when you left his lips for air, you nodded and kissed him again, your hands running through his hair.
His hands traveled to your ass and he pat it gently, a silent sign to jump. You did so, your legs wrapped around his waist as you were against the wall.
Your lips never left his until he softly put you down onto his bed.
“Missed you too.” You giggled out as he unwrapped the towel from his waist, seeing his cock already hard, the tip red and angry, some pre cum already leaking out. Your shorts were gone and you were left in the bikini now.
“I saw you in the post Sarah made- in this fuckin’ bikini.” He mumbled, he was on top of you now, his lips ghosting yours.
“Is that what the video was about?” You said quietly, a small smile on your face.
He nodded, and crashed his lips into yours again, your lips were swollen from all the kissing at this point, but you loved it. You loved every second.
You moaned into the kiss when he slid his tongue into your mouth, a free hand went to take off the bottom, and the top you had on.
“God, fuckin’ hate your brother and his friends, they’re keeping me away from you.” He mumbled, his lips leaving yours again to suck on your neck, leaving hickeys.
“Rafe! Everyone’s gonna see!”
“Shh. It’s okay. Jus’ cover them up with your makeup or some shit.” He grumbled over, continuing to suck on the skin, making you cry out.
Once his assault on your neck was over, he kissed your lips one more time, a quick peck. Then he was collecting your arousal on his fingers, a small smirk on his face as he looked you in the eyes.
He brought his soaked fingers to his face, and put them in his mouth, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he savored the taste.
You moaned out, fuck that was hot. His eyes went back to you and he held your thighs apart, jerking his cock a few times before lining it up with your entrance.
Luckily your wetness was enough for him to slide in with ease, you both moaned out now, his hands gripped your thighs.
“Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” He mumbled, he struggled to not come right then and there when your walls pulsed and you gripped onto his cock like a vice.
He began to move, and if there’s one thing you learned about Rafe Cameron, it was that he did not like going slow.
His thrusts were quick, having the bed squeaking underneath you everytime. You cried out his name, you clawed down his back as his body was against yours.
“Oh- oh my god-“ you said, voice loud.
“Not God, only me baby.” He chuckled, but his words didn’t even register in your head. He had fucked you dumb, completely.
Your eyes were glossy, you felt full, your eyes screwed shut as you moaned out.
The coil in your stomach felt like it was about to burst, and you shouted out his name, so loud that the neighbors could probably hear. He wanted everyone to hear, though.
“R-Rafe!”
“Cum for me, Angel.” He mumbled, he already knew with the way your walls gripped onto his cock and the way your toes curled.
You came with a loud cry, your eyes opened to see him over you, panting and groaning. You tried to close your legs, it became too much.
“T’ much, Rafe.” You moaned, but he was focused on his own orgasm. He groaned and mumbled your name was he came inside you, his cum shooting into your womb.
He sighed and panted above you, you breathed heavily.
“You’re on the pill, right?”
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illyrian-dreamer · 7 months
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Our Girl – Part 4
Azriel x Cassian x fem reader angst
Summary: Deeming you unfit for a mission, the Inner Circle have betrayed your trust and shattered your life’s mission to avenge you sister. And the two males you love most were at the centre of it all.
Word count: 7.3k
Warnings: Smut [18+, minors DNI]
You stared at the gold invitation, cursive writing announcing Cresseida to be wed in a months time. And there was your name printed, Y/N and partners. You had scoffed when you first saw it – maybe in another life.
You were chewing your lip, lost in thought on whether to attend or not. You knew at the least, Rhys and Feyre would attend the wedding – that meant seeing them. And word would surely spread of your work at Spring Court once you got to chatting to other guests – that would reveal your location. 
“Whats bothering you, young spark?” Finbark asked from the kitchen, busy chopping vegetables as a pot of stew boiled behind him. He looked up briefly, spotting the invitation in your hand. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of not attending?” 
“I don't want to risk what I have here.”
“Y/N, everything you’ve worked for is already yours. Your home here, your work, even your privacy, no one can take that away from you now, not even a High Lord or Lady.”
“I know, you’re right. It’s just… I've so enjoyed my little bubble away from everything that happened. Seeing them… they made me feel so small Fin, so helpless. I don't know if I can stand going through that again.”
“So much has happened since then. Look at all you’ve done, all you’ve accomplished. Thousands of fae, gods, even the entire damn court is mending thanks to you. You were never small, and you have proven that to yourself over and over again.”
A wobbly smile jerked at your lips, tears pricking in your eyes. He wiped his hands, leaving the vegetables to come cup your face, brushing away your tears.
“You cannot lock yourself in Spring Court forever, sweetheart. Don't punish yourself for their mistakes, expand your horizons, celebrate with friends that are equally yours as they are theirs. And celebrate yourself, you deserve that even more.”
You reached for your uncle’s rippled hand, holding it tight. “Thank you, Finbark. You mean the world to me.”
“And you me, young spark.” 
So it was decided. You would attend the wedding, without any partners.
————
“Where are we going?” you called from Podie, Tamlin a few paces ahead on his own horse. He was leading you through a trail you weren't familiar with.
“For the umpteenth time Y/N, it’s a surprise.” He called back without turning his head. 
You let out an audible sigh, to which Tamlin chuckled. You did your best not to admire his ass as he straddled a horse – it helped neither of you how handsome Tamlin looked in his riding clothes. You pressed your heels to Podie, coming to trot beside him.
“You should know I hate surprises,” you sang.
“Even the good kind? What a shame,” Tamlin responded, clearly not letting up on where he was taking you. You poked your tongue out, earning another chuckle.
It had been several months since your first dinner with Tamlin, and you had fallen into a comfortable pattern with the High Lord. You enjoyed a regular drink or meal together when your work crossed paths, and he had even consulted you on advice for his court, which flattered you. His company was a consistent pleasure, and you treasured the friendship you had formed – the Gods knew you needed it.
You managed to bite your tongue for another twenty minutes, and just as you were about to pester him again, Tamlin spoke. “It’s just up this trail.”
Pulling the reins of his horse, Tamlin led you down a steep path, hidden much by overhanging trees and bushes, only to reveal a clearing.
No, not a clearing – a field, blossoming with rows of carefully planted pink flowers. And as you got closer, the size of the field was revealed, bordered by a low wooden fence. It was… a farm?
You drew in an audible breath as the scent of the flowers hit you. You widened your eyes at Tamlin, who was grinning at your shock. You dismounted Podie quickly, rushing to brace the fence as you took in the site with awe. 
“Wild Gernaium?” you choked, your eyes still wide. 
“The healing flower,” Tamlin nodded. “It took a while to learn how to farm them, months in fact, but Spring has Prythians best botanists.”
“And here I thought they could only grow in the wild,” you shook your head with disbelief. “Tamlin, these are so rare, how on earth you were able to farm this many?”
“Spring Court is a land that gives back, the soil here is rich of nutrients and the weather forgiving. It is of course only something we were able to do, thanks to your mission work to help recover the land. This is your accomplishment as much as it is theirs.”
Tears pricked in your eyes then. The amount of fae that could be helped with this crop – it was an overwhelming thought. 
“And they are for you, of course.”
You gaped at the High Lord, who laughed again. 
“For me?”
“Of course, for your work. Whatever you need – farmers to pick the flowers, a factory full of workers to grind and bottle the pigment – say the word and it’s yours.”
“Tamlin, I… I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Please, don’t. It’s not a thanks I deserve, I’m just… trying to look out for my people. Just as you do.”
“Well… you’ve done a Gods damned good job,” you said with raised brows, blowing out a loose breath at the extend of the farm. 
Tamlin threw his head back and laughed, and you grinned at his happiness. You reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Nice work, High Lord.”
Tamlin squeezed your hand back. “It wouldn't be without you.”
He pulled on your hand then, leading you through the flowers as you admired the plants up close. He explained that a factory could be built at the farms edge, attached with a pressing mill and grinders. Your heart fluttered with excitement, your work could extend past manual labour, you could now offer medicine and healing. There was a force brewing inside you, something unstoppable and good, something that lay dormant for centuries, finally unleashed and free.
You still held Tamlin’s hand as he lead you through the field, making your way to a lush hill that overlooked the farm. You sat together, Tamlin listening contently as you excitedly spoke through your ideas on how to harvest the medicine, noting that your small growing team of mission workers could also help to distribute throughout the court.
“How many aid workers have you recruited now?” Tamlin asked. 
“Seven, and we’re currently inducting Nyvya in the east. She’s a trained healer, so will be delighted to hear of the Gernaium.”
“That’s wonderful,” he smiled. 
“It is,” you said warmly, and it occurred to you that you owed Tamlin a truth. An idea you were planning to run by him at a much later time. But with the offer of the Gernaium, the access to this kind of healing, that changed things. “It is,” you repeated almost flatly, chewing at your lip as your eyes fell distant, dancing with thought.
Tamlin caught the movement, and he frowned slightly as he shifted from his lounging position. “What is it?”
Your heart rose in anticipation – you felt sheepish. So you stared at him, deciding on whether it was in fact the right time.
“You can say it – whatever it is,” he said gently, taking your hand. Your silence lead him to start guessing. “Are you leaving Spring?”
“No, no I–”
“Because you are free to come and go as you please. I know my past behaviour speaks for itself, but I would hate to think that you feel trapped or–”
You grabbed his shoulders then, squeezing the muscle underneath. “Tamlin, gods I know that.”
The action seemed to stun him, and his lips pressed into a thin line. You felt a slight twang of guilt for drawing out such a distinct shame in him. 
You took a deep breath, pulling your hands to your lap. “With the mission work expanding, along with my team, we have been able to help fae at the borders, some from Summer, even a few from Autumn.”
Tamlin nodded assuringly, a sign for you to continue. He didn't startle over the technicality of Spring members helping foreign fae – that was a good sign. 
“And it felt good to help them Tam, they were isolated, and just as vulnerable as some of those in Spring.”
“Of course,” he said softly.
You had to take a deep breath, and your eyes found the horizon beyond the rolling hills around you. 
“You know,” you spoke softly. “My ambitions to help and protect others, it has always existed beyond court borders.”
You could see Tamlin shift, before giving a slow nod. 
“After talking with my team, we believe our mission work could gain traction in other courts, should they be willing. We could share knowledge, resources too if it was agreed, and provide aid across Prythian without being conformed to borders.”
You forced your eyes to Tamlin then, grimacing at what you might find written on his face. But it was just as neutral, his eyes soft, his jaw chiselled and handsome and – damn him.
“This is not the way I wanted to propose this to you Tamlin, please know. Especially after your generosity with the Gernaium, I understand completely if you have grown them purely to aid your own subjects. But that doesn't stop the need for mission work across Prythian. I plan to gain the support from as many High Lords and Ladies as possible, and I would be honoured if that started with you.”
Tamlin eyed you with those sharp green eyes, the kind of look that made you shift under the weight of it. And after an insufferable silence, he spoke. 
“You are incredible.”
You blinked in shock, Tamlin’s lips pulling at your reaction. 
“Truly,” he smiled, grabbing your hand to kiss it. “I have never met anyone who was to see a need as great as this, and think to grow it beyond borders. Magic anchors a High Lord or Lady to their Court, it makes us territorial and protective, violent even. But you, this,” he said waving his hand to you, before sighing, contemplating how to say what he felt in words. “You are what this world needs.”
Your eyes welled before two fat tears rolled down your cheeks. “Tamlin,” you chocked, unable to think of anything else to say.
He shifted closer, brushing the tears away with his thumb as he cupped your face. “You have my support Y/N. Thank you for teaching me to be better.”
Emotion surged through you, as if flushing you from years of doubt and hate, replaced now with inspiration, kindness and good, honest love. And then your lips were on his. 
Taken aback, Tamlin caught himself on one strong arm as you held his face and kissed him. You pulled away, worried to have overstepped your boundaries. But then a strong hand laced around your waist, his other propping himself up as he leaned in, closing his mouth over yours, a sharp breath drawn as his nose brushed against your. Friendship, understanding, a blossoming love – how quickly Tamlin had welcomed you to a world capable of healing, of growth. 
Every fibre in your limbs begged to be closer to him, to bask in the vulnerability he had shown you, and you him. In only half a year, you had grown together, healed together, and learned to love one another. You did, you loved him, for whatever he was to you – a dear friend, a High Lord, it didn't matter. It was equal, and genuine, and you craved it in every way. 
Fuelled in by dizzy passion, you quickly straddled his lap, pulling at his broad shoulders to bring him further into you, letting him encompass your senses. 
Tamlin’s own hands slid across your back, moving up to your neck, gripping at the roots of your hair, the other grasped at the flesh where your thighs met your hips. 
He seemed to realise where this was heading, pulling away with a sharp breath through his nose. “Y/N–”
You shook your head, dismissing him immediately with another kiss, your tongue begging for entrance to his mouth. “Tamlin.” His name was a plea.
“Are you cer–?”
You didn’t give him a chance to finish his question, peppering kissed in between words. “I’ve–never–been–more–certain.”
A low growl rumbled from his chest, and goosebumps pricked at your skin as you felt it vibrate through to you. Your excitement peaked, it had been so long since you had shared yourself with another, and your core fluttered with anticipation as every fragment of you seemed to chant yes, yes, yes. 
Which is exactly what you moaned as Tamlin entered you, your skirts pulled high, his riding pants pulled low. You placed a flat palm on his chest, your eyes clenched shut as you stretched around his girth, your walls already throbbing as you slowly slid down. Tamlin let out a stifled growl, one laced with satisfaction and a lot of restraint. 
Strong arms hugged you then, and you began to writhe together, moving gently and sensually as you ground against each other. Chasing release was far beyond you, there was so much pleasure to be had in sharing your bodies, relishing in the trust you both had found in one another.
Tamlin did his best to keep a leash if his instincts, his beast form begging to be released and he grunted and growled when you moved your hips in a certain way, nipping at your neck and ear as claws now ran down your back. You ran your fingers through his hair, using it to guide his face to yours as you kissed him and fucked him how you pleased. His own hands moved to grip at your ass to do the same. 
“Y/N,” he breathed, his deep voice breaking, strained with pleasure. 
“Tamlin, gods, you feel–”
“So. Good,” he gritted, finishing your sentence. You leaned back, head thrown back as your hands found balance on his thighs as you rode him in the warm spring air. 
Pleasure found both of you again and again in that afternoon. You climaxed on his lap, and not twenty minutes later he was pushing into you again, your bare thighs spread on the lush green grass as he moved above you. You clung together, a writhing, sweaty mix of passion and pleasure until the sun began to set over the rolling hills. 
Tamlin reached for you, his fingers lacing with yours as you ate the last of the berries he had packed. He kissed your forehead before turning you to rest against his chest, not wanting you to miss the view. 
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your hair. 
Stroking his arms that were tightly wrapped at your waist, you swallowed, debating on what to say. But no, Tamlin deserved the truth, you must always choose truth. You sighed , saddened by what was churning through your head after such incredible sex.
“I’m thinking we need to discuss what this afternoon means.” 
You loved him, you did, but Tamlin was bound to his court, and your life called beyond it. It wouldn't work, no matter how much you cared for each other.
Tamlin knew this too. “What if,” he spoke softly, brushing your hair away from your neck so he could place a gentle kiss on it. “What if we enjoy this moment for what it is, just for today.”
You smiled, kissing his hands. “Tomorrow then.”
“Plenty of problems await,” he joked, and you laughed before settling further into him. You smiled cockily as you felt him harden against you. Tomorrow indeed.
————
One month later
Peering from the carriage window, your heart thundered in your ears, drowning out the clap of horses hooves as guests arrived at the summer estate, music floating gently from within.
Dawned in all colours, you watched guests gasp in awe at the beauty of the building. This was one of many of Tarquin’s estates - one you had never visited. It was an open, grecian style home, golden columns holding the impressive entrance carved with shimmering vines. Fae flocked in groups, sparkling wine already in their hands as they made their way to the gardens, no doubt where the service was being held. 
“Are you alright?” Tamlin asked, the velvet of his deep green suit brushing against your bare arm. 
“Uneasy to say the least,” you said thickly, your tongue stiff with nerves. “And you?”
Tamlin looked beyond the window, eyeing each of the guests. “One step at a time,” was his response as he squeezed your knee. 
————
The curtesy wine offered to you at the entrance was gone within the first few moments of arriving. You wouldn't make a fool of yourself here, but a little wine to take the edge off couldn't hurt. 
Tarquin stood proudly, wearing a fine turquoise suit detailed with gold thread, shaking hands as he welcomed guests. 
“Y/N,” he beamed, taking your hands and kissing each of your cheeks. “I’m honoured you came.”
“The pleasure is mine, Tarquin. Thank you for having me.”
“Nonsense, both Creseida and I might have forced you here if you had not come willingly.”
You laughed freely. “How is she?”
“A wreck of nerves,” he chuckled. 
“I’m sure she looks beautiful,” you laughed lightly back. 
“She does, just as you do,” he winked, raising your hands he still held to take in your dress. A silken, soft blue dress fell of your body, its back open as material gathered just before your rear. The dressmaker had done an incredible job, fitting style and colour alike. You had politely declined her suggestions of a sage green, a Spring Court signature. It was kind, but you were courtless for over a year now, and proud of it. Instead, you had asked for sky blue – as no one ruled the skies. 
Blushing, you let out another soft laugh. “You are too kind, High Lord.”
Tarquins eyes flashed behind you, catching Tamlin as he spoke with some familiars a few paces away. “Have you…?” he questioned, trailing off.
You smiled knowingly. “I’ve come alone. Tamlin and I shared a carriage, journeying from the same court. You remember of my work there?”
“Remember? Sweetheart, there is talk of your mission throughout my court. There are guests here who are very keen to meet you. And we will need to formally discuss your work, and give a proper thanks to the aid you have provided at the border.”
You were smiling wide now, shaking your head with gratitude. “I would like that too, but perhaps not here.”
Tarquin grinned. “No, perhaps not. Welcome, sweet Y/N, please enjoy the festivities, and accomodation.”
You smiled politely as Tamlin approached, exchanging a firm handshake before raising his brows at you. “Shall we head in?”
Nodding tightly, you let Tamlin guide you with a hand at the small of your back. At the very least, the warmth of his skin against yours was a small comfort. 
The estate was even more impressive the further you ventured, white marble and golden staircases twisting this way and that, leading to corridors of rooms, each door carved to perfection. These were the guest accomodations, and included your own for the evening. 
But the jewel of the home was its view, where a perfectly groomed garden now catered to almost a thousand fae, overlooking the crystal blue Adriatic, the waves beneath crashing the cliff quieted by the string quartet. It was an overwhelming beautiful home, and you were glad to be lost in a sea of guests. 
 A golden arch was set at the end of a the aisle, a High Priestess exchanging words with a groom you did not recognise. But you smiled – you were happy for Creseida. 
“An impressive turnout,” Tamlin muttered, sipping his wine as his green eyes turned sharp, scanning the crowd. You ignored the glances being cast your way, whether it was from your attendance with Tamlin, or Tamlin’s presence alone, you didn't care. What did these fools know of either of your stories to judge.
And you tried not to look, to not let your heart beat fast as you scoured for a rare set of wings amongst the finery of the wedding, telling yourself you wouldn’t turn your heel and run at the site of any siphons or shadows or night. But you were thankful to not find any. 
That was, until you felt them. Muscles jerking, goosebumps pricked your skin as your power began to tingle sharply, spreading across your body like a rash. Shit – you hadn't anticipated to lose your lid in such a way, your power had been so forgiving this past year. 
A small gap parted in the crowd of guests at the stairs of the estate, and the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court were revealed. Arms loop, night curling around them in the fashion that impressed and threatened all at once. Rhysand shook hands with a nearby male, Feyre kissing the cheeks of a curtsying female. 
It shocked you, how quickly your spy instincts found you. As if in one of your many life-threatening missions, your senses narrowed, the noise in your brain focusing to immediate details – taking in only what you needed to survive, just as Azriel and Cassian had trained you. Your vision barrelled to the couple who still greeted others some distance away. Scanning behind them, you anticipated the remainder of your old family, and of course, your exes. 
Yet no one followed. Not even Mor. It seemed the High Lord and Lady had attended alone. It was strange – had things turned bad at the Court, that even the Morrigan had forgone a wedding?
Rhysand wore a handsome smile as he guided Feyre down the stairs to the garden, guests parting even further, bowing as they strode through. They were getting closer, and you ignored the clench of your heart as their scent filled your nose, before mixing with others. It was the smell of home.
No. it wasn't home. Not anymore, and not for a good while now. You hated that instinct, to curl into it, to let it welcome you, claiming you still. 
You glanced behind, conscious that they would find you standing with Tamlin. But he was no where to be seen, and you thanked him silently for the courtesy of having stepped away.
Rhysand and Feyre glided closer and closer, exchanging nods and accepting bows. And then they halted, violet eyes scanning before locking to yours, grey eyes shortly followed. And Rhys’s smile, the one that he used in the face of the public, it softened, his eyebrows twitching upwards almost unnoticeably. 
Feyre’s hand gripping at his arm tighter, and you could hear her heart fasten from where you stood. You almost resented how in-tune you were to them, these micro-behaviours. 
Glancing between them both, you followed the order of those next to you, lowering yourself to a polite curtsy. 
They couldn't reach you, not without drawing attention, not without the watchful eyes of hundreds of guests. So with a nod from Rhys, and a soft smile from Feyre, they continued on, finding their seats in the queues. 
————
Cresseida was the most beautiful bride you had ever seen. Golden vines were cuffed along her arms, as a silk gown as white as her hair trailed behind her as she walked the aisle, Tarquin proudly at her side. 
You smiled through your tears as she was married. You were happy for her– you were happy –you were… An unmarketable emotion filled you as you couldn’t help the run of tears that continued to pour, even after the ceremony ended. 
————
“And is it true that you were able to help the children at the border?” questioned one of Tarquin’s emissaries as she leaned in, raising her voice over the music. 
The party was in full swing, food had been served and hundreds of fae drank and danced, celebrating Creseida’s courtship, each of them eager to get even a glimpse at the bride and groom. 
“Yes, we were lucky to have an experienced healer join the mission, and she was already aiding some of the fae in Spring.”
The female smiled, and squeezed your arm. “On behalf of my court, we are grateful.”
“Not at all,” you smiled back. “Your authorities were notified, and from what I heard your own healers were already on their way. We were simply closer to that area, and had supplies to spare.”
It had been hours, and your company was still in high demand as endless Summer Court members were eager to meet you. Tarquin, it seemed, had been spreading you just as much praise as Tamlin. You had danced with many, exchanging jokes and stories, enjoying the festivities with some familiar faces and many new ones. 
It was a struggle to keep your eyes from averting, your instinct to find Rhys and Feyre in the crowd was loud and stubborn. Old habits, you supposed. 
Tamlin approached you then, having made himself scarce from your company for most of the evening, something you both had agreed to do. But you were comforted by his presence as he easily slid into the conversation, slipping a glass of fae wine into your hand without even asking. You smiled, giving his shoulder a thankful squeeze. 
There was an itchy, uneasy feeling that tugged at you, and you knew you were under watchful eyes. You found them, surrounded by their own acquaintances, and while Rhys masked his curiosity perfectly, Feyre’s stare bored into you from across the dance floor. 
Taking a large sip of wine, you let it warm you as you squared your shoulders. You would not cower, you would not shy away. And now was a better time than any.
So you strode directly to them, Feyre’s stare softening as Rhys pardoned himself from his conversation. Then, they were walking towards you to. 
You stopped a few paces shy from each other. Staring. It was…. awkward. 
But then Rhysand smiled. Warm and genuine and familiar. You hoped he didn't hear your silent curse to him. 
“You look well,” he said. 
You nodded, acknowledging the half-compliment, sensing their relief. No, you weren't that broken withered girl you were when you left. 
“How is Nyx?” The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them. You would have been more annoyed at yourself, but your care for that child was pure, and you knew they would never withhold him as currency. 
“He’s well, growing every day,” Feyre replied. “And walking all on his own.”
Your smile, be it small, was sincere. 
“He still… asks about you,” she added. 
Pain sliced through your heart then, and you weren't quick enough to hide it in your face. “Don’t,” you whispered, your voice strained. Gods, that didn't take long.
“I’m sorry,” Feyre said quickly, hands reaching out before she quickly drew them back in. “I didn't mean–“ she cut herself short, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”
You cast your eyes to the side, blinking away the sting of tears. “It’s alright.”
Rhysand watched you intently. “Perhaps we can all use some fresh air? I spotted a terrace, free from other guests.”
The choice was yours, you knew that. You had things you wanted to say, and you were sure they did to. You nodded, following their lead as you quickly cast a look backwards, Tamlin offering you a tight nod as you left the room.
————
“So, mission work in Spring?” Rhys asked, wine swirling in his hand as he leaned casually against a column, warm summer breeze surrounding the three of you as the party continued faintly below. 
You nodded, your arms crossed at your chest. 
“It’s very impressive,” Feyre added from where she sat, offering a genuine smile. 
You didn't respond, unsure of how much detail to reveal. Rhysand caught on, sighing slightly. 
“We didn't bring you here to interrogate you for detail, It’s only that your work and whereabouts is quickly becoming widespread knowledge. We thought it was best to acknowledge that we know it too.”
“And what of Cassian and Azriel?”
“We have held true to our bargain on that.” You believed him. 
There was an award silence, unasked questions looming. 
“Are you safe there?” Feyre asked quietly.
“Very much so.”
“And Tamlin is–”
“A friend,” you said quickly. 
“– respectful to you, was what I was going to ask,” Feyre said with a knowing look.
You sighed then, running a hand through your hair. “I didn't do it to hurt you,” you said, with a straight face. You owed her no allegiance, but, you were done hurting others, and her concern did no one any good. 
“I know,” Feyre acknowledged, with the grace of a High Lady, of someone who knew that the past was the past. She shook her head then, before adding. “We worry for you, that is all.”
“He’s changed.” You were shocked at how quickly those words left your mouth. 
It was Rhys who threw you a condescending look. You hated how small it made you feel. 
“Look, I appreciate your warning, but Tamlin has shown strides of growth, he has acknowledged his mistakes and is working endlessly to undo them. When was the last time you looked within yourselves?”
Rhys flashed his eyes at you with warning, bringing an arm to comfort his wife. “Careful,” he said plainly, but a flash of darkness passed through those violet eyes. 
Damn him. And damn Feyre too. “You didn’t so much as try to stop them,” you breathed, your eyes welling with tears as you focused on her. Gods damn it – you thought you were past this, past them. But it was as if a year away meant nothing, you were just as hurt as that night you left the Night Court. Feyre watched with a pain expression as your lip wobbled. “And you didn't so much as try to apologise,” you whispered, your voice moments away from breaking. 
Feyre’s eyes now glistened with the same tears. “You shut us out,” she countered, and you could see how much your own choices had wounded her.
“What choice did I have?” you asked, brushing away a stray tear. “You think I want to be this way? You think I wanted to cast myself out? You broke my trust and lied to me, alienating me from this family. And I was supposed to come to you for an apology?”
Feyre gulped guiltily, looking at the floor. Rhys watched you intensely, a concerned frown on his face. 
“You’re right,” Feyre said quietly, grey eyes now finding yours. “But you must know Y/N, I am sorry. I’ve been sorry since the day it happened. I thought it wise for Azriel and Cassian to want to protect you, but I realised very quickly how it was that kind of thinking that trapped me within warded walls,  and that had me fleeing my home all those years ago.”
You nodded, casting your eyes upwards to not let the tears stain your face yet again. “We can't keep doing this.”
“What’s that?” Rhys asked gently. 
“This,” you gulped, waving your hands between you. “These sorry confessions and apologies, it hurts us all.”
“Alright,” Rhys said neutrally. “But you acknowledge our apology?’
“Yes.”
“Do you forgive us?”
Your lips pressed tight as you grimaced. 
“That would be a no,” Rhys said sadly, his smile broken. Feyre couldn't force one if she wanted to. 
“I want us to move forward,” you offered instead. “There is no use in resentment. It may be that we’ll continue to cross paths, and it is important to me that you know I will not respond illy.”
“Of course,” Feyre nodded, smiling. 
A sharp pain throbbed at your temples then, the kind that came about when you had to keep your emotions and powers under tight strain. It was instinct to rub at your temples. 
“Can I heal that for you?” Rhys was now standing in front of you, his smile remained but his eyes – heavy, saddened. 
You blinked up at him before flicking your eyes to Feyre who waited eagerly for you to respond. Was this a test? Could it be, after all that had happened, you could consider them just…friends? You searched within yourself for the right answer, but nothing came about. It was just too soon. 
But there was no harm in letting Rhys work some of his magic. “Alright,” you replied, and you heard Feyre loose a breath. 
Rhysand’s hands cupped the side of your face, his fingers pressing to your temples as the familiar feeling of him slipping into your mind sent a shiver down your spine. There was something in you, something impossible to kill that was comforted by his touch. He was, after all, your High Lord of decades. He had been your home, your family, and maybe there was some part of that would always remain. It upset you how much you had to resist the urge to wrap your arms around his waist, to pull Feyre in too, to sob of how much you missed home, your family, how much you ached while you were apart. 
It was over as quickly as it began, Rhys slipping from your mind, leaving no trace of a headache behind. You hadn't clocked that you had closed your eyes, your lip quivering as your cheeks were now wet with tears. Rhys kept his hands on your face, brushing them away. 
“Y/N–,” he said softly, his face pained. You knew what he would say – come home, even if you hate us, come home. But you wouldn't give him a chance. 
“T-thank you,” you stammered, pulling away from Rhysand’s hold and fleeing the terrace, leaving the two to their shock. 
————
You were brushing away hot, fast tears as you fled the wedding, racing towards your guest room. 
Gods, what was wrong with you today? You hated feeling like this – an unstable, blubbering mess. Nothing had changed in a year, not really. You were still the same, broken and alone. It hurt just as much to see your family now. 
To hell with this wedding. You craved a sleep tonic and to be rid of this night. That was when Tamlin fell into side-step with you. 
“Are you hurt?” he asked simply, muttering the words to avoid drawing attention as you passed through the crowd. 
“No,” you managed to say, and you could have kissed him for playing into the nonchalance. He seemed to respect privacy, even when there was little to be found. 
“I’ll walk you to your rooms.”
“No, Tam, I’m fine, you should–”
“Nonsense,” he replied, and you knew you wouldn't shake him. So you walked to your room,  sniffing through your tears as you tried to calm the current brewing at your fingertips, Tamlin by your side.
You reached your quarters, a private corner in a long corridor or rooms. The door was carved in  unique artwork, familiar somehow, as if beckoning you to enter from within. 
“If you’re sure you’re alright,” he said with an unconvinced look. 
“I will be, Tam, thank you.” 
You gave his hand a quick squeeze, before turning the handle to the door. 
And made it two paces in, before shadows filled your vision. 
————
You swore as strong hands held your shoulders, blue siphons a blur as shadows cast around you. You fought on instinct, but it was impossible to shake Azriel’s grip. 
“What in Mothers name–?!” you cursed again. 
“You’re safe,” Azriel spoke with relief. Despite yourself, your skin ignited at the husk of his voice.
“Get your damn hands off me,” you gritted, taking in the room as the smog of shadows finally cleared. 
Cassian was between you and the door, where Tamlin still stood, completely stunned. The General’s hands quickly curled into fists.
No one moved, each of you just as shocked to see the other. They had come for you, yes, but you were certain Tamlin was an unpleasant surprise. 
“Fuck,” you ground out, almost rolling your eyes as you knew the strife that now awaited your friend. 
Azriel moved you behind him, as if you needed to be shielded, protected. “What are you doing here, traitor?”
“Let her go at once,” Tamlin growled, stepping into the room. 
You stepped out from behind Azriel, your mind reeling at the sight of the two Illyrians in you room. You hated them, but something in you churned - a yearning. It was easy to stamp down as a rage took over. 
“What are you doing here?” you countered.
Azriel gave you a piercing look, running his eyes down your body. There was love in that look, but a sternness too. 
“Answer me,” you ground out. 
Cassian was still facing Tamlin, his siphons so bright they radiated heat. “Did you hurt her?” he growled at Tamlin, a shaking rage consuming him. 
“You hunted me? Like a mare?” your voice was ice cold, colder than any of these males could ever hope to perfect. Your trust, betrayed, again. 
That voice snared their attention. Cassian casting a look back at you, desperate, like he wanted to give you all of his time, to never stop drinking in the sight of you. 
You prowled closer, fingers twitching as your power grew so strong zapping could be heard. “Rhys’s promise to me, the bargain. You broke it,” you spat.
“Y/N.” Cassian said your name, begging you. His pain cut through to you, your power dampening as a sick, sick part of you folded at his plea. Go to him, that part of you begged. 
The room was filled with a sharp coldness and breeze as Rhys and Feyre winnowed into your quarters, Feyre’s face one of shock, Rhys’s one of fury. 
“What in Gods name are you doing here?” he growled at his brothers. 
“You left us no choice,” Azriel seethed back at Rhys, his wing stopping you as you silently moved to join Tamlin. 
You glared at him. “Try that again,” you growled. 
Azriel’s eyes were dark, predatory, but his brows pulled with a softness only reserved for you. “I do not trust him.”
“And I do not trust you,” you spat back. 
“The promise,” Rhys growled, glaring between his brothers. 
“Y/N, we had no idea they had come,” Feyre spoke with a desperation that you had to believe her. 
“Leave. Now.” Rhys ordered, but the males ignored him, his power underwhelming in another court. 
Cassian’s brow pulled, his face truly broken as he spoke to you. “You left us. And joined him?”
You snapped at the accusation. “I joined no one, because I belong to no one. I pursued a life beyond you, and I am a free female. Free to roam wherever I please, and fuck whoever I want.”
You words landed their mark, because both Azriel and Cassian recoiled.
And then Cassian’s face turned grave, as he slowly faced Tamlin again. “You-you touched her?”
You cursed yourself for the pointed insult – you should have known it would put Tamlin in the firing line. To his defense, Tamlin held a high chin. 
“She is a free female. Nor you or I can rob her of that.”
Azriel snarled, and Cassian was on Tamlin in an instant. 
“Stop that! Get off him! You will not hurt him!” you cried, broken at the thought of Tamlin being hurt because of you. 
But before you could throw yourself at Cassian, night magic filled the space, pulling the males apart, commanding the room to its master. And you were surprised to see Feyre walking towards them, her palms outstretched, night pouring from her as her eyes now glowed with silver. 
“Sensless violence ends now, I don’t care about the circumstance.” 
What did she mean by that?
“Leave,” Cassian snarled at Tamlin, but Tamlin held his ground. 
“He is welcomed to stay so long as Y/N sees fit,” Feyre spoke coldly, forcing Cassian’s eyes back to her. Now that, was a High Lady. “I can not believe you two–“
“You weren't invited?” you interjected, untrusting of your exes as you scowled between them. 
Rhys shook his head from across the room. “We went as far to hide the papers.”
You gulped as you stared up at Azriel. “Pray tell, how you found me, then?”
Azriel wore no remorse as he said “Amren – she possessed an invite and–”
Exasperated sounds from each of you filled the room. Amren, of course. She was the only one to know to play games above Rhys and Feyre’s head, and cunning enough to pull it off. 
“And what is your plan, then?” you added coldly. “Drag me back to the Night Court, kicking and screaming?”
“No, of course not,” Cassian responded softly, stepping towards you, stopping as you retreated back. “We had to know that you were safe.”
You stared at him, the sorrow in his voice, the bags under his eyes and the way his shoulders sagged. He was broken. 
“You were not well when you left, Y/N. It’s been killing us not knowing how you are faring now,” Azriel added, his eyes soft, looking just as worn as his brother. You knew he sang silently to his shadows as they coiled in on themself, they would be begging to reach you. 
“Please, don't be angry,” Cassian begged, his eyes welling. “We’ll go, we’ll go now, it’s just–”
“We love you. We- we need you,” Azriel interjected, his own brow clenched with pain. 
Each of their words were a dagger to your heart, piercing it’s way through the walls you had built. 
“Stop that,” you whispered, your hand pressing against your chest to ease the pain. Were these your feelings, or theirs?
“It’s true,” Cassian continued. “You’re our girl. We'll do better, Y/N, we promise. Please.”
It was painful to hear, and you faltered slightly as your body jerked in pain. Something was breaking within you, crumpling around something else, something buried deep. 
“Please Y/N, come home.”
Your knees gave out as you let out an anguished cry, your heart tearing and swelling to the point where you thought you just might die. 
“Y/N!” Tamlin called in panic, but Azriel and Cassian were already at your sides, holding you, asking where it hurt. 
Palms braced on the floor, you tried to breath through laboured breaths as you finally felt what was concealed for so long. It was unmistakable, a tether of sun-lit rope, tying you to the males at either side of you. You felt it all – their fear, the instincts to take you far from this place, their overwhelming, unconditional love. 
And you hated it. 
“No,” you gasped, your hand finding your heart as you tried to calm its pounding.
Azriel glanced at Cassian, who gave a single nod in confirmation. Feyre gasped from where she stood. 
“What is it?” Tamlin panicked. “What’s going on?”
“No!” you repeated, standing quickly and backing away from the two males. It couldn't be – you were free, you had left…
They watched you with saddened eyes at the horror that beheld you. 
“The Mother is cruel,” Rhys tutted, lowering his head in sympathy.
“What in the gods-forsaken realms is going on?” Tamlin yelled.
“No, no, no, no! Please, no!” You clutched at the roots of your hair, your mind reeling as you begged to no one. You were bound to them, whether you liked it or not. An enslavement of kinds.
“It snapped,” Feyre answered to Tamlin without ever turning his way.
It was too much to bare – their instincts, your newly ignited ones, their love, your hate. Your brain scrambled for sense, fighting itself over and over as you shook at your knees. 
A final ‘no’ pushed past your lips before your body gave out, the world tipping and your vision darkening as strong hands caught you. 
You succumbed to the gods damned mating bond. 
-------
Part 5>>>
AN: Helllllllllo my lovelies! I am so so bloody excited to share this part with you! It was a rollercoaster to write, hope you held on tight for this angst-train! Always, always, ALWAYS want to hear your thoughts and feelings on where this story is heading, so please drop a comment anytime. And thank you endlessly for your support with this fic - it means the world. MWA!!
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simpjaes · 20 days
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Jungwon hard thought- giving him his first blow job till he shakes and when he cums you talk him through it AND he starts crying from overstimulation😵‍💫
warnings: jungwon isn't a virgin but he's never had a blowjob before, you're his sister's best friend lmfao. assume they're in college. they fuck.
it's not that he hasn't had sex, it's just that he hasn't done any of the foreplay stuff...until you, anyway.
before you, his last girlfriend was always just a "stick it in and get it over with" type girl...always a quickie, never taking the time to really enjoy it. and it's not even that he minded that either, it's just....yknow.
he would have liked to have known before this that his cock gets really fucking sensitive after only twenty minutes of having a throat gag around him.
really, the pulling of your hair isn't intentional at all, he can't help it. he needs something to hold onto through the vibrations of pleasure running through him paired with the sensitivity of his leaking tip bumping deep in your throat.
it's kind of amazing, how you just hold yourself down on him, nose pressed to his abdomen as you gag and gag and fucking gag. practically strangling his cock while choking out yourself. he thinks he might be in love with you, actually.
and sure, this is just a raunchy hook up and you definitely shouldn't be in this room with him right now considering....you're here for his sister's birthday but like, how could he say no to that? with the way you were groping and rubbing on him, getting him all sensitive and hard before finally pushing him back into his bedroom and locking the door.
anyway....he's in love maybe a little bit as you continue to force pained whimpers out of his chest. he grips your hair tighter each time you slide his length across and down your tongue, trying to hold back the tears in his eyes from the sheer feeling of being overwhelmed by heat and wet and- oh god, when you pull back in a breath with dribbles of spit and pre-cum running down your chin, his brain loses the ability to function.
"are you okay?" you ask with a hoarse voice, clearing your throat of all that pre-cum he's been unintentionally drowning you with.
he frantically shakes his head, thrusting his hips up in search of that same warm throat that's been hugging his cock so tightly up til now.
"are you-" you cut yourself off, quirking a brow and lifting your hand up to his face, a little confused and shocked as to why this man is crying. "a fucking virgin?"
as if you haven't seen him countless times when you come over to hang out with his sister. he was always just some guy...most definitely not one to fucking cry over a blowjob?
"no, no!" jungwon defends, trying to pretend his voice doesn't sound as broken as it does. "just, i've never had, like, um..."
"oh my god." you stifle a laugh, your hand landing around the base of his cock and jerking up. "you've never had a girl go down on you?"
he shakes his head in embarrassment, sniffling and wiping the stray tears running down the side of his face.
"it's embarrassing, I know." he punishes himself for his lack of experience, but in his defense, he was with that same ex girlfriend since middle school and hasn't really fucked around since the break up a year ago.
he really didn't know what he was missing out on. "not really." you shrug, smiling sweetly at the man in front of you. you can't help but feel endeared and attracted by the way he's reacting to you. "kinda hot, actually." his pretty, teary eyes blink down at you with those words and a small smile tugs at his lips too. "just relax, I'll make it feel even better."
and, well, he really does try to relax but goddamn. he really didn't think you could make it feel better than you already did but at this point he really can't let go of you. hands in your hair, hips thrusting up and plunging his cock so deep down your throat...you just take it, only popping off for a breath and kind words of telling him how good he's doing.
soothing him through orgasm after orgasm, up until you're so fucking wet you genuinely can't just keep giving.
now, jungwon also learns what sex is supposed to feel like. shocked by how wet and slippery your cunt is when you slide down on him. more tears, his cock is fucking crying for relief and he doesn't even know if he should stop or cum until he's entirely empty.
it appears you make that decision for him though, riding him through his pretty whimpers and whines, licking up those salty tears of overstimulation, and cooing out praise all the while.
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bunicate · 2 months
Note
Alhaitham making his little sister ride her stuffed toy for him! grinding her pussy on one of her favourites as she whines about how it’s gonna ruin her favourite stuffie!
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ warnings ꒱ྀི incest. infantilization. handjob. brief blowjob. pillow humping / 18+
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“this is so unfair .”
you’d cross your arms if they weren’t currently occupied. reluctantly, one hand knits into the bedsheets to keep yourself in place. the other commits to slow sensual strokes of his cock, timed with the messy ruts of your pussy, defacing the once pale pink bunny.
the innocent stuffed animal with beady eyes, now the color of mulberry from your arousal, was ruined. if you didn’t know your big brother so well, you’d easily miss the subtle flicker of mirth in his blue-green eyes.
“how is it unfair? I'm playing with you just as you asked.”
you narrow your eyes at him, but its merely an undignified expression when the stuffed bunny's hard nose pokes your clit.
“t-this is not — hmmph— what I meant.”
his eyes lower and the side of his lip upturns. it’s not audible, but he’s laughing at you. you’re certain of it, and his cock only hardens in your grasp.
“y’got me ruining mr.cuddles. . .” you grumble.
“I can buy you another.”
a curse dies on the tip of your tongue just as frustration settles from his retort. the last thing you want is to add to your torment. as promising as it could be, al haitham had an immeasurable amount of self-control.
he’d wring your little cunt dry, and you don’t think you could handle much more of his teasing, but god, the poor creature was soiled.
you know how much embarrassing you arouses him and you sure don’t miss the pre-cum that deliciously clumps at the tip of his member. you know it’s at your expense because he throbs within your palm.
his fingers, veiny and all encompassing, cup the back of your head, slightly tugging at the roots of your hair.
it doesn’t hurt, but there’s enough pressure to signal his intolerance of your potential defiance.
“enlighten me. tell me what you meant.”
your head lolls back, staring at the scribe with tears blurring your vision. you thumb his tip and whine when you feel a dollop of his warm seed land on your thigh.
“when you told me you wanted to play, let me guess . . . did you mean on . . . my cock ?” 
theres a swirl of something you can only describe as unadulterated desperation at his show of mockery. there’s a sardonic glint as he soaks in how pretty you look jerking him off.
you nod stiffly. “u-uh huh.”
but he only feigns pity.
“that’s too bad, isn’t it ?” he reaches down to grip your backside. he lifts you slightly and sees crystal strings of wetness connecting from your cunt to poor mr.cuddles.
“look at that mess,” the scribe whispers, and that only fuels your need to bury yourself under your sheets.
“this isn’t what you wanted and yet, you’re dripping . . .” he shakes his in farce disappointment, “but nevertheless, let’s problem solve.”
he lets go of you to stop your hand from stroking his leaking member.
he firmly grabs himself, pumping his swollen cock slowly — roughly, until a pretty coat of pre-cum envelops his tip.
he points his throbbing appendage towards your mouth, pressing it towards your quivering lips. he wipes his head messily around the surface until trails of slick begins to glisten.
you physically resist the urge to suck and swallow even when the faint taste of salt drips on your tongue.
there’s a deep hum when you meet his wanton stare.
“would you have more fun if I put my cock in your little mouth instead ?”
you mewl. god, you can smell him. it’s a rich and musky scent mingled with a woodsy vanilla.
your mouth collects spit as he continues to drag his fat tip down the seam of your plump lips.
his cock is just as pretty as the rest of him. it’s wide with an odd number of veins running down his length. it wilts from its own weight despite being so hard.
his eyes glaze over, chuckling before he answers for you, “yeah, of course you would,” he murmurs. “you’d suck it just like how you suck those lollipops.”
al haitham rubs at your scalp, dragging your head so his member slides against the opening of your mouth. by now, you’re panting like needy pup with your tongue lapping up the underside of his cock.
“what if —“ his eyes flicker down to between your thighs, “I put it right here ?”
his fingers skillfully slide past your overstimulated clit to nestle in your little hole. you breathe out a loud sigh of relief when they slowly sink in, stretching your tight walls.
“h-haithy. . .” your mouth parts as meek cries fall from your sweet lips, breath fanning his dick.
“oh, what cute sounds. is this what you want ?”
“mhm. . . I dooooo,” you drawl.
your hand tangles around his wrist. it was a brave action, but he didn’t seem to mind. you were insatiable at this point as you unabashedly hump his thick fingers, chasing your own pleasure.
“I wan’ it, h-haithy. need your cock inside me.”
slick sticks to your thighs and your cunt audibly squeezes around his digits until he suddenly halts his movement.
“what do you do when you want something ?”
you sniffle, “u-use my big girl words.”
al haitham gives you a subtle look of approval.
“precisely.”
he falls silent, giving you a chance to speak but you remain hushed at first. rather, you’d let your actions allow him to draw his own conclusions.
you pull away to position yourself on your back, his fingers slipping out of your warmth.
he watches you closely, anticipating your next move.
your arms come behind your knees, revealing both of your pretty holes. delicate fingers part your puffy folds like pages of his books, displaying the gaping hole he was moments away from fucking.
with pursed lips and gleaming eyes, you ask just like how he taught you.
“big brother . . . can you please make me cum on your cock ?”
your tight pussy clenches around nothing, pushing out a stringy rivulet of creamy white.
there’s a crack in his composure.
al haitham effortlessly pulls his shirt over his head. his strong abdomen on display flexes with every breath he takes. it’s intimidating how stalks towards you, inching towards the bed with purpose.
he’s eager to mount you, his sweet little sister with a perfect ass, and a fat wet cunt he’d milk over and over again.
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clockwayswrites · 5 months
Text
A Broken Sort of Normal- Part 19
WC: 2134, Masterpost
Danny sit up straighter in his chair as he states his name, but Wally can see the wince that Danny tries to hide. Absently, Wally runs through Danny’s schedule of care and when the other will be able to have more pain medication.
“Were you born with powers?” Bruce continues.
“No.”
Wally wants to go to Danny. He wants to tell him that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that Danny has powers. It doesn’t mater how he got them. It doesn’t matter that Wally didn’t know. None of it matters to Wally; he’s just glad that Danny is still here.
“Are you comfortable explaining how did you got your powers?”
Danny runs his hand through his hair. He’s nervous. “Some of it. The broad strokes. It was a lab accident, because of course there was. My parents are ecto scientists, they study ghosts. They’re not… let’s just say don’t read their research into ghostly behavior. They are brilliant engineers though. They managed to build a portal to the Infinite Realms—”
“Minging knobheads,” John curses quietly.
“—and I was sorta in the portal when it turned on. Which, um, killed me and revived me at the same time. I was electrocuted while my system was flooded with ectoplasm.”
Killed.
Danny had— Danny had died. Again, before, Danny had died. Wally closed his eyes and swallowed around the catch in his throat. He almost never got the chance to know Danny. A hand fit into his and Wally knows instantly that it’s Dick’s. He grips it back tightly. At least he isn’t listening to this alone.
“It’s not so much that I got powers, as that because I’m half dead, I’m half ghost and I can do the things that ghosts can do. Invisibility, intangibility, flight… things like that. Long story short, someone had to stop the ghosts that the portal let through—”
John is up and pacing now. Zatanna doesn’t even try to stop him.
“—so I sort of became the town hero. I went by Phantom. It was… well, you’ve all been there.”
God, Wally wishes Danny didn’t know how that was.
“Kid… did you even have anyone to help you?” Barry asks.
Danny shrugs. “Two friends and eventually Ja… my older sister.. There are a few ghosts that were sometimes allies but ghosts…”
“Ghosts aren’t good or evil, they’ve got obsessions,” John explains into the silence. “Sometimes those obsessions motivate the ghosts in a way that seems one way or another. It only works out for you as long as your needs aligns with their obsession.”
Wally’s mind spins.
“Danny,” Bruce asks with very careful words, “do you have an obsession?”
He searches back through his memories of Danny.
“Yes.”
It couldn’t be anything anyone would see as bad or dangerous.
“Protection. My obsession is protection. It’s not as compelling to me as it is for a full ghost. For me it’s more like a hunger craving or itch, but it is there. It’s a good part of why I became a paramedic.”
Oh. That made so much sense.
“That’s our Danny,” Danna says, softly, from in their group.
“Why did you not simply join us as a hero?” Diana asks.
“Before, well, things were… complicated? There’s this government agency that considers ghosts non-sentient and—”
Danny jerks back in his chair at all the exclamations that rang out in the room at that. It isn’t just a reaction to the sudden noise, Wally realizes, Danny looks startled at being defended.
It breaks Wally’s heart.
“It’s okay!” Danny says over the din. “They were always pretty incompetent, really, even when working with my parents. I never even ended up vivisected or anything!”
Gar clamps a hand over his mouth and mutters. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Danny,” Dianna says his name gently, “have your parents ever attacked you?”
“They don’t know I’m a halfa. They don’t know I’m Phantom,” Danny says. There’s a pleading note to his voice that makes Wally agree with Gar; he’s going to be sick.
“But they’ve attacked Phantom,” Dianna says. It’s not a question, but Danny nods anyways. “Danny, do we need to set up protection for you from your parents?”
“They don’t know—”
“Kid,” Barry interrupts, “what you did was on the news. Like, every news station across the world. I think they know now.”
Danny sits back in his chair. He picks at the already frayed edge of the hoodie. Suddenly he looks small in a way that Wally’s only seen when Danny’s been in the middle of a panic attack. Any strength Danny’s gathered the last few days seems to leave him as his shoulders slump. “Maybe. I guess… I don’t know how they’ll take the news. It’s… maybe. We’ll, um, more than that someone needs to make sure the portal stays closed down. If the ghosts start coming through again…”
The hand Danny presses against his chest shakes. “I’m not as strong as I used to be. I don’t know if my powers will come back still or if this… is what I am now, but my core is weaker than it used to be. If this the way I’ll be now, I won’t be able to fight them off.”
“Are they dangerous?” Bruce asks. “Beyond the morality of their obsession, are they actively dangerous to you?”
“That’s not an easy question. Mostly the ghosts used Amity Park as a new way to fulfill their obsessions. Lunch Lady wants to feed people, which is good, but if you don’t want to eat things can get nasty. Obsessions are like that, they can twist quickly. The ghosts also just like to brawl, a lot of them at least. Some of them would understand if I can’t and back off, but there are others… take Skulker,” Danny says with a wave of his hand, “his obsession is hunting rare game and, well, I’m rare game. He wants to mount my pelt to his wall.”
With an unpleasant noise, Gar dashes from the room. It makes Danny wince and mumble an apology.
Wally is already mentally calling favors to call in to safeguard their apartment, not that he thinks anyone will say no to protecting Danny.
“We’ll make checking on the portal a priority as soon as this meeting is done,” Bruce assures Danny.
“Thank you. I don’t want anyone to be hurt if it gets turned back on.”
“Why has it been off? If it’s off, why would they turn it back on now?” John asks, still pacing.
Danny looks away from the table again. “Because they remember now.”
“The curse?” John asks at the same time Bary asks, “What do you mean remember?”
“I mean they forgot, because, yeah, the curse,” Danny says. He’s back to picking at his sleeve. Everyone gives him time to try and find his words, which he does with a wet laugh. “I was stupid. I mean, I was young, but I still should have known better. I was just… I was having a hard time. My parents were working on a new GIW contract and my friends… team were going off to college… I was going to be alone to deal with the ghosts. I still should have known better. I just wished I could be normal.”
“That’s not wrong, Danny,” Barry says. “We’ve all felt that sometime…”
Danny’s shaking his head. “You don’t understand. You don’t wish in Amity Park.”
“Because of this Desiree?” Zatanna asks.
“Because of Desiree,” Danny confirms. “Some ghosts have very specific powers and those are usually strong powers. For Desiree, it’s… it was reality altering based on wishes. I forgot to never say ‘I wish’.”
After a moment of comprehending silence, Diana asks, “She had the power to make you fully human?”
“No, even borrowing power like I think she did, Desiree couldn’t do that. But that’s not what she needed to do. Normal isn’t a real thing, it’s just societal, you know? She just had to make sure no one remembered I was half dead and, tada, I had a normal life.”
John finally stops pacing and leans against the back of his chair. His cigarette is a mangled mess dangling from his lips. “What was the catch?”
“I wanted to be normal, so I had to stay normal. I couldn’t be noticed using any of my powers or being too ghostly or tell anyone I had died or what things used to be like. If I did— well you all saw what happened,” Danny looks up, finally, right at Wally. “It’s why I couldn’t tell any of you, even if I wanted too. It’s why I couldn’t use my powers to help. As soon as I did, I was good as dead.”
More than ever Wally wants to rush over to Danny’s side. He wants to let Danny know it’s alright that he kept this secret. It doesn’t matter. He settles for what he hopes is a reassuring smile.
“I still don’t know how I survived. As soon as Desiree appeared and took my powers, that should have been it for me. My ghost half can’t survive without them and my human half isn’t alive enough to last by itself. It would be like cutting off a normal person’s oxygen. I should have been ended.”
“We overloaded her,” Zatanna explains.
“Forced all your power— which there was a fucking lot of it— into her at once,” John finished. “She popped like a balloon with too much air.”
“Did you have to describe it that way?” Hal grumbles.
“Oh.” Danny blinks a few times as he took that in. “I guess, okay. I mean, yeah, I was more powerful than a lot of ghosts; something about being a halfa and my state being mutable still. I didn’t think though… right, okay. But how am I still here?”
“When she popped,” John says with a smirk towards Hal, “the air was full of ambient ectoplasm. Flash zapped you, re-started your heart, and the cloud went up like a match in a fart.”
Danny’s face wrinkled up at that. “Ew. But, alright. I mean it was my power first. I guess that…” Danny’s hand comes up to press over his sternum. “I guess that means this is my power level now.”
“And the rest of the curse?” Zatanna asks, leaning forward in her seat.
“Gone. People remember now.”
Wally thought to all the phone messages Danny had been getting in a new light.
“That’s why we need to make sure the portal is closed.”
“As well as that the GIW are shut down and that your parents do not try to harm you,” Diana says with that firm certainty of hers.
“Right,” Danny says after a beat. It’s hard to see how clearly Danny doesn’t consider himself a priority. “And… for the rest of it all?”
Diana tilts her head in question. “The rest of it?”
“I didn’t tell anyone my status. I lied to some of you. Is that…”
“You did what you needed to stay alive and hurt no one.” She holds up a hand to stop any protests from Danny. “While I have no doubt with your heart as it is you do not wish you could have done more, it would have never been asked of you at the cost of your life. You are a hero, Danny, and have been since you joined the Response Team in Central City. You have only continued to prove it by your willingness to act and the honor with which you did so. The Justice League is proud to still have you as your post, as soon as you are recovered.”
Finally the last of the tension drains Danny’s shoulders. “I’ll be happy to get back to it.”
Wally tunes Diana out as she wraps up the meeting.
“I’m going to ask him,” Wally says to Dick, who still has his hand.
“What? Now?” Dick hisses.
Wally watches as Danny shakes Clark’s hand. “Why not? Everyone’s here, like you said had to be.”
“Because it’s a debrief! That’s not exactly the most romantic moment.”
The other Titans are standing around them, waiting for their chance to see Danny. Even Gar is back.
“I almost missed my chance, N. I almost never got to ask,” Wally pleads. “I don’t want to miss it again.”
Dick just sighs and pulls a small case out of his belt. He presses it into their clasped hands before releasing his grip
Wally can feel the smile stretching across his face. “You know me so well.”
Dick just shoves Wally off his chair. “Go get your man. Ghost? Man ghost.”
Laughing, Wally fumbles to his feet and towards Danny.
“Danny!”
Danny who’s still here and alive.
Who smiles like the sun as he turns towards Wally.
“Yes?”
---
AN: I don't know, is it too cruel to end right there? 😇 Don't worry, we'll get an epilogue to hopefully tie the loose ends up in a bow! But this is the last half of the last full chapter! They know! And they still respect and love Danny. He can stop worrying~
You can subscribe to the masterpost here.
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princessbrunette · 5 months
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we’ve talked about stepbro!rafe but what about stepbro!jj… 🤭🤭
i read this request whilst tipsy and giggled sm because oh my GOD
so let’s say jj’s dad kind of gets his act together, gets help or whatever— still an asshole, but not so awful anymore. jj’s relationship with him is still totally up in the air, but atleast he’s not a danger to himself or others anymore. he meets your mother, sad and recently single — and they become inseparable.
they’re great — really, JJ wasn’t the most trusting of this relationship at first, worried it would go up in flames and he’d have to pick up the pieces when his dad eventually spirals — but it seems they’re pretty good for eachother. he’d even go as far to say your mother brought the best out of his old man.
but that wasn’t really what he was focused on.
they moved in together pretty fast, and along with your mother — came you. god, so pretty — totally his type, like if he’d seen you at one of the pogue parties on the beach, he’d be all over you. sweet, in that girl next door way, cute smile, innocent. he feels sick.
where it was discussed before in my stepbro!rafe post, rafe has very little worry regarding the morality of the situation, happy to take you under his wing and bend you to his will. jj however, is just… better than that. he knows it’s wrong, recognises how fucked up it would be — but it doesn’t stop him from feeling a type of way toward you.
he tried to sister-zone you, ruffling you on your head and pinching your cheek and treating you the way he would a regular little sister — but that only made him feel worse, because he couldn’t stop the burning attraction he felt toward you bubbling in his gut like something that had been left on the stove for too long, steam clogging his brain.
you just seemed so oblivious to his constant battle, and if you weren’t so naive he’d think you were doing it on purpose. you always stood too close when you spoke to him, and he’d have to press his lips together in restraint at the way you’d look up at him through your lashes, big doe eyes melting the ice around his heart. sometimes you’d go as far as to touch his chest absentmindedly, and he’d think about how it would look to a bystander, his little step sister all over him like this, practically touching him up. god, it was wrong— but it made him so hard.
you didn’t seem to worry about how wrong it would look when you’d steal his t-shirts to sleep in, or kiss him on the cheek before he leaves to run around with his friends for the day. your parents were none the wiser, just happy to see the two of you were getting along. you’d even begged him to let you hang out with the pogues, and he couldn’t say no to you, so of course he allowed you — only to immediately regret his choice when he had to spend the day with you bouncing around in your little bikini, tits pressed to his side when you’d hug him, outline of your chubby cunt visible through the white bikini bottoms when you’d come out the water. he was visibly disgusted when he went home and jerked off that night. came a bunch of times, though.
the straw that broke the camels back was when he’d heard this… pathetic whining sound from your room, and being the great guy he was thought maybe you were injured or sad— only to find you, who thought you’d been home alone, face down on the bed, naked from the waist down, grinding your glossy pussy against a pillow. he was wrecked.
he begged himself to walk away, leave the room and you’d never know. hell, go be a pervert and jerk off over it in your room, you’ve seen enough — but he couldn’t, not whilst the opportunity was just presenting itself to him like this. he even had the audacity to hope you secretly knew he was home, and was hoping he’d find you. jj being jj chooses to awkwardly clear his throat, scrunching his face as you yelp, scrambling on the sheets to cover your dignity. there was no point covering yourself now however, the image of your pretty pussy was burned into his retinas, haunting him every time he blinked like someone had tattooed the sight to the inside of his eyelids as some kind of sick prank.
“hey, uh—” he starts, cringing at himself already. you fire off into a barrage of apologies, face all hot and tears at the ready.
“jayj, i had no idea you were home! i’m — i’m so sorry you had to see that i’ve just been so — so frustrated lately and needed to —”
he nods, scratching his cheek and comes to sit by you on the bed.
“you uh— you don’t have to apologise. i was gonna ask if you… need any help.”
once these things start, it’s hard to wrap them up. easy to let them go too far. that’s how you end up with his face between your legs, and then clenching around his fingers, and then shockingly— cumming around his cock. he’d had plenty of experience fucking, he messed with lots of girls in the past— but the way his heart swelled each time you whined his name, the way tears would slip from your eyes when you came, this was different. more intimate, shit— the L word even sprung to mind a few times.
he came all over your tummy, and even cleaned you up afterwards because you were too sleepy. once everything died down that guilt returned, biting at the inside of his abdomen and clawing around his throat as he stares at your ceiling, your warm body snuggling into him, breathing softly into his neck. he thinks he might have a heart attack when you sleepily mumble “y’such a good big brother jayj, thanks for lookin’ after me.”
he must be sick, perverted. especially because he knew he would be doing it again.
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ameraincandy · 5 months
Text
--𝙲𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢 !💌
synopsis: A forbidden relationship with your step-brother, no matter what the risk is, you love him so much! Despite them loving your body..
tw: mentions of sex, unhealthy relationships, somewhat angsty, stepcest, somewhat non-con, Be warned sweetheart!💌
bonus: x reader, + your favorite character! 🎀
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“You...want to love me? Haha,“ A puff of cigarette smoke hits the center of your nose while the sheets shuffled gently as your step-brother stroked the side of your cheek with a lustful grin, enveloping you in a passionate kiss until it escalated into his arms pushing you down roughly under him, grinding his erection softly onto your bare cunt that elicited a sinful whimper onto his lips.
Until he was satisfied with the kiss, your step-brother pulled away from the assault on your tongue with a string of saliva connecting the two of you as proof, whispering his reply to your confession..
“What a precarious girl you are...♡“
He let out a mean chuckle from his ears perking up on your whining to his cold fingertips tracing circles onto your waist, continuing the grinding motion of his dick with that signature cold grin of his...whereas a labored breath blows under him as you weakly try to push him off, not wanting anymore due to the overstimulation from the previous round.
“C-caan't! I-f-fuu...t-too much! S-something m-might aah!~“
“Stupid sluts like you don't deserve breaks...“
Your pathetic begging only drives his sadistic teasing further, his fingertips leaving your waist as he grabbed your hair, forcing you to look up and beg to his face properly.
“You love me right? Say it again and I might consider it, beg for me to stop fucking you so good.“
Your step-brother commanded as he took out his enraged tip from his boxers, threatening to push it inside you once more and taint your cunny with globs of his thick cum:( - so after he threatened to have intercourse with you again, a chorus of ”iloveyou's!“ was sung by you with a moan, remembering the painful stretch of his cock inside made you desperate to stop him, but it was too late as he flipped you onto your stomach and pressed your ass against his lower abdomen, slipping his painfully thick cock inside you:(!
“God...you took too long to respond that my dick is flaming red to the tip...come now, forget words and let your actions show how you want to apologize to me...“
Your step-brother began to harshly bully his cock against the spot that makes you feel wonders..
“See how your cute pussy is desperately dragging my dick inside you? I'll consider this an endearing apology of yours..🤍”
You buried your head onto the pillow while he continued to roughly thrust inside you, trying to distract you from the pain as his lips decorate your back with hickeys to ensure that his little step-sister was all his!
Even though he could be such a jerk at times, your naive little self couldn't help but love your step-brother so much...even if it's eating away at what sanity you have left, at least he's filling up the empty space in your heart, and well, your womb too?
—♡
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whore-ibly-hot · 1 year
Text
What Friends are For.
Yandere!Best Friend x Innocent!Reader
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Warnings: AFAB reader (not the case with all my stuff.), yandere content, smut, dub-con, manipulation, corruption kink, overstepping boundaries, toxic friendship.
(An: My first smut, not exactly my best, it's been in the drafts a while 😑. If you enjoy, leave a comment or feel free to request something!)
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💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿
You sigh as you roll over to look at your best friend Carl, who seems more focused on his phone than the movie that blares from his TV. When he invited you to this sleepover, you didn't expect him to act so off. The whole evening he's been a little strange, constantly fidgeting and looking at you when he thinks you're distracted.
Suddenly, a knock sounds on the door of his room, and his older sister Sherri pokes her head in with a smile. "Hey guys, me and Dan are gonna go to a checkup for the baby and see a movie after, are you two good to stay here?" She asks. "Yeah, we'll be fine, we're not babies-" Carl mumbles as he shifts from his spot on the bed, dropping his phone onto his lap. Sherri rolls her eyes, and exclaims that she was just trying to say goodbye. "I'll see you later, Sherri!" You smile sweetly as she nods in response and bids you farewell. You hear the downstairs door slam as her and Dan leave, saying something about calling the babies doctor.
"It's really cool Sherri's having a baby, Don't ya think?" You ask, turning over to Carl. He shrugs, clearly not too enthused about the whole ordeal. "I guess, she's kind of a pain in the ass with all the, uh-" He thinks "Hormones n' shit." You let out a small laugh. He grins in response and leans back against the window frame just above his bed. "But, at least now that she's pregnant I don't have to hear them fucking upstairs everynight." He shudders as he recalls the many sleepless nights of him clutching a pillow over his ears in an attempt to drown the explicit noises. You fake a gag in response. He then groans, flopping over and burying his face in the pillow. "Having to hear that shit isn't exactly great for trying to get off, fuck I'm backed up." You look up, your brows creased in confusion. "Um, 'Backed up'?" You repeat, confused. "Y'know, like, I haven't gotten any in a while?" He says, sighing when your confusion doesn't lessen at his crude explanation. "I haven't fucked lately. That's what I mean." Your eyes go wide and you look down at this. "Oh, I'm sorry?" You respond, unsure how to approach that situation. You're not familiar with anything of that nature, especially not when it comes to guys anatomy.
"Nah, you ain't gotta apologize. It's not like you can help." He says coyly, glancing at you while trying to suppress a grin. He watches as you sit with a serious expression, deep in thought. "Well, maybe I could help..." You eventually mutter, only making his grin grow wider. He knows he's got you now. "I mean, I'm not gonna say no." He pats the bed beside him, and you nervously stand to sit beside him. "I don't really have any, um, experience with this stuff." You admit, and he only nods understandingly. "It's okay, I happen to be an expert with this stuff, just do what I say, alright?" He asks. You nod. "C'mere." He pats his outstretched legs and leans up against his headboard. You slowly climb up onto his legs, trying not to be clumsy. One of his hands immediately moves to your hip, while the other cups one of your breasts through your shirt. "What are you doing?" You ask, feeling his hands explore parts of you. "Well, I can't just get it up right off the bat, I gotta get ready." He explains.
"Fuck, you look good, but-" He pauses, making you look at him with concern. "I don't know if it's gonna be enough." He sighs. He knows he's lying, just getting to touch your over your clothes gives him enough jerk-off material to last him for the next year, but you don't know that. You're so eager to help, and god, he knows you'd look even better naked, letting him touch and use whatever he wants on you. "What should I do?" You ask, not wanting to disappoint him. "Take off your shirt." He winces at how over-eager he seems, and tries to correct. "Uh, it would help, I mean." You nod, unsure. As you unbutton the front of your shirt, you feel a pit form in your stomach, making you feel a bit nauseous. You try to shake it off as just nerves, and soon your shirt is dropped off the side of Carl's bed. You sit still, looking down as Carl ogles your chest. "Look at this," He coos, touching the simply lacey bra holding your breasts. "Y'know, if I didn't know better, I would think you wore this for me." He snaps the bra strap, startling you. He laughs at the squeak of surprise you let out, before his hand slips to the back of your bra. You shiver a little as he unhooks the bra and lets it hang loosley from your shoulders. He pulls it down, now completely exposing your breasts to him.
He squeezes your left breast, trying to gauge your reaction. You tremble a little, the feeling of his hands on you is not completely terrible. "Yeah, feels kinda good, huh?" He whispers, and you can only manage a small nod. "Try doing this yourself, just rub them with your hands, try to be gentle at first if it feels bad." He says. Your hands shake slightly as you place them over your breasts, nervously beginning to rub the tender pink buds as Carl watches with a predatory gaze in his eyes. It feels odd and sensitive at first, but after a few moments small tingles shoot from your chest, making your breathing slow. "Yeah, there you go..." He eggs you on. Despite his massive hard on pressing against his pants, he fights the need to get off in favor of playing around with you a bit more. "Keep going for me, okay? I'm gonna try something real quick." He says.
Carl's hand lands on your thigh, slowly slipping under your skirt and grinning when they part slightly out of instinct. You continue to rub your chest trying to continue the good feeling and ignore the growing bad feeling that remains in your stomach. Carl looks up, watching your face as he cups the front of your panties. "Uh-" You gasp a little, feeling pressure on that very sensitive spot between your thighs. "Keep playing with your tits baby, I'm just explorin' down here." He coos, turning his attention back to his hand. He strokes over your panties, prodding gently at your clit. "Oh, C-carl?" You ask, the shock of pleasure emitting from the simple touch makes you jolt. "Yeah?" He asks. "What are you doing, down there?" You ask. "Nothing, just gonna make you feel real good. Why don't you help me out, strip these off for me, m'kay?" He asks, feigning sweetness. You nod softly, slipping the garments off your thighs. His finger begins rubbing your clit gently, the strange feeling practically making you buckle and fall down onto him. "Hey, it's cool, c'mon... you can lay on me." He encourages, his free hand pushing your weak frame down against him. As he continues rubbing, you feel a knot forming in the stomach, different from the nausea you felt earlier. You let out a few noises, too overwhelmed to be ashamed by the lewd sounds slipping from your lips.
"Mm- Carl, feels funny-" You choke out. "Come on, baby, I need more than that, can't just feel 'funny' when you're this wet for me." He chuckles. "Feels good, F-feels so good." As the feeling in your stomach builds, you feel overwhelmed and a bit frightened, but your instincts tell you to chase the feeling, You begin to jolt your hips against Carl's hand, only making his brows raise with his smile. "Woah, takin' the lead huh? You might be more sensitive than me, huh?" You don't respond, continuing to buck against his hand. "Oh god, something's happening, I'm-" You cut yourself off with a moan. "Gonna cum for me, fuck, I'll make you cum. Say how good I make you feel, c'mon." He pants, his cocky attitude fading to pure lust. When you don't respond, too wrapped up in pleasure, he pulls his finger back. You practically scream at the sudden lack of stimulation, feeling that high fading fast. "Carl, please-" You whine. "Say how good I make you feel." His tone is less friendly, and it makes you shiver, though you're too desperate to resist. "You make me feel so good, so good. Please, m-make me feel good again." You whine. He begins to rub again, but not nearly enough to get back that high. "Faster, please." You moan. He grins at how helpless and worked up you are, the feeling of knowing he's in control is almost enough to make him cum with you. "Say who's doing this to you, m'kay? Fuck, I want the whole neighborhood hearing you whore yourself out to me, c'mon." You whine again, but fulfill the request. "You, Carl. Y-your the one touching me, making me feel so good, A-ah..." A few more sudden strokes and you feel yourself coming undone, your pussy convulsing around nothing as you spout unintelligible phrases. The feeling is so overpowering that you collapse naked onto Carl's chest. Panting heavily, you glance up. He's got a boyish smile, and he moves to stroke one of the hairs from out of your face. "So good for me, huh? Such a good friend." As he says this, you remember the reason you did this in the first place. "But, I didn't help you, y'know..." You trail off, suddenly shy after all that happened. He shrugs, and says "You did plenty, besides, we'll have time for me later." He says, You blush at the suggestion. "You mean you want to do something like this again?" You ask. He nods.
"C'mon, you're my best friend, and after seeing you like that, all needy and desperate, I'm not gonna end it here." He suddenly moves so he's now over you, with you pinned against his headboard. "It's gonna feel so good baby, you right here, under me. Fuck, your pussys gonna feel so fuckin' tight, letting me ram n' and out." He pants. Your face pales at the notion. This was supposed to be a one time thing, and you had planned on losing your virginity much later in life, to whomever you married.
"C-carl, I did this because you wanted help, I can't, I mean, I'm not ready to-" You pause. "Go all the way." His smile fades a little. "Why? You don't gotta be scared, I'll be gentle. I'm your best friend, remember?" He tries to keep himself calm, and not scare you off with his frustration. "But, surely there's other people who would do stuff with you." You say, trying to make some distance between you and Carl. "Course' there is. I'm a fuckin' smokeshow." He scoffs. "But I don't want to do it with anyone but you, got it? And you're not gonna do it with anyone but me." His voice is low now, and there is a glimmer in his eye you don't recognize. You shiver as you ask "W-why not?" He rolls his eyes. "Because, you offered to help me. You're not gonna hurt a friend, and break our promise, right? I still need your help." He coos, making you look away in guilt. "I guess..." You mumble, tensing when you feel a pair of lips on your neck. "That's my baby." He presses his weight gently against you.
"This is why you're my best friend."
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actuallysaiyan · 1 year
Text
He Said To Me, "Hey, come here closer"(Gyutaru Shabana x Fem!Reader)
warnings: modern AU, jerking off, mentions of porn, Gyutaro is a pervert, pervertedness, mentions of fantasizing about reader, fellatio/male receiving oral sex
word count: 1.1k
pairings: Gyutaro Shabana x Fem!Reader
a/n: this is fully self-indulgent. I've had this idea in my head forever. Had to remove artwork cause it got flagged. Enjoy.
Read part 2 here
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You’ve been friends with Ume for what seems like forever. The two of you were causing mischief even when you were in diapers. Much to her older brother’s dismay, you are a duo not to be reckoned with. The two of you were as thick as thieves and often would cause a lot of issues and troubles for Gyutaro.
And while Gyutaro was older and usually tried to fake some sort of authority of the two of you, because Ume was prettier and cuter, she would get away with everything. This led Gyutaro to grow up fairly lonely and resented a lot of people. The only person it seemed he could stand was you most days, even if you were a little shit when you were younger.
But now that you’re all grown up, Gyutaro is starting to see you in a new light. He knew Ume would be beautiful when she got older, considering how beautiful of a baby she was, but Gyutaro wasn’t prepared for how gorgeous you are.
And you tease him, or at least you don’t mean to, but he can’t help growing hard whenever you brush up against him by accident. Or if you ruffle his hair playfully, he has to stifle back his moans. You really are becoming the object of his desires and he’s incredibly happy that you still come over to hang out with Ume. Even if he can’t make a move on you, he can still admire you closer than he ever thought he’d be able to.
One night, you and Ume are having a girl’s night in. She’s invited a few friends from her sorority to just have a big sleepover. When you arrived, Gyutaro could tell something was off about you. You didn’t seem nearly as enthusiastic as you normally would, but he doesn’t say anything more than the usual greeting he gives you.
Hours go by, and he’s just hanging out in his room. Something about having this many girls in the house, especially you, has him playing with his cock for hours. He’s watching porn on his phone, just scrolling through videos. He finds that he often goes for the ones that have “fucked my sister’s best friend” in the tags or the title. 
Soft moans fall from his chapped lips, and he has to keep licking them to get them wet. Gyutaro wishes you were in here, snuggling close and stroking his cock for him. You’d look so fucking cute, with your pouty lips and your pretty doe eyes looking up at him. He has to stop himself over and over so he doesn’t cum too quickly. He wants to have this go on for a few more hours. He can just barely make out the giggling in his sister’s room over the loud music. 
You’ve been bored for hours. Ume’s new friends aren’t any fun and they all worship her like she is some sort of god. None of them are funny either, even though they’ve all been giggling together for a while. You decide to get up and go to the bathroom and get yourself a snack.
Once you leave the bathroom, you pass by Gyutaro’s door. Something about this makes you stop. You haven’t checked in on him in a while. You always liked Gyutaro. He was always just “Ume’s weird older brother” to a lot of people, but you were always so fascinated by him. He was the guy who showed you the cool anime growing up, the deep horror films, and the really awesome rock music you loved to listen to still to this day. For a long time, you even thought you might be crushing on him. You just knew it would never work.
Something made you go into that room, and you gasp loudly when you see him on the bed, still stroking his leaking cock. Need pools in your lower tummy, almost like someone has lit a fire inside of you. He groans at you, throwing a pillow in your direction and telling you to get out. He’s more than mortified. But all you do is close and lock the door behind you.
“Looks like you could use a hand,” you say seductively. You saunter over to him and crawl onto the bed.
Gyutaro is frozen to the spot. He had imagined this scenario a million and one times, but he never thought it would ever come true. Finally, he thinks that this could be his shot. But the thought of you potentially humiliating him and mortifying him even more is worse. So he covers himself up, and you pout.
“Come on, Gyu~, can’t I have a little taste?”
Your words make him groan. His cock throbs with need. Your pretty lips are slick with lip gloss. The same kind you’ve been using for years. You claim it tastes and smells like cherries. He’d love to be able to finally get a taste of you.
“What? You wanna suck my cock?” He asks, a smug grin on his face.
“Been wanting to for a long time.”
He can’t believe the words that are coming out of your mouth. How long had he been jerking off? Surely he’s just dreaming and fantasising about this. There is just no way this could be true.
He whimpers pathetically when you grasp his thick, long cock and begin stroking it. You giggle softly at his response, and you lean in to kiss his lips. He’s so happy he finally gets to taste that cherry lip gloss you always wear. You’re right, it most definitely tastes like cherries. It only makes his cock throb even harder.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this, Gyu.” You whisper in his ear before kissing his neck. Your hands are so soft as you stroke his leaking cock. “I’ve always wanted you.”
His heart is pounding in his chest. He swears he’ll cum too fast if you don’t stop. But he doesn’t even want to stop you. He’s been edging for hours.
But it’s when you finally wrap your pretty lips around his throbbing cockhead, that’s when he loses it. Gyutaro throws his head back and moans your name loudly, pushing you down further onto his cock. Spurts of hot, thick cum slide down your throat with ease. You moan at his taste, and you can feel the stickiness between your thighs get even worse at this point.
He sobs and whimpers as you continue to suck him well past his orgasm. When you finally pull off of him and look up, he swears you look like an angel right now.
“How about we switch now? Wanna lick my pussy, Gyu?”
He doesn’t need to be asked twice.
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teamatsumu · 6 months
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kinktober 2023 -> day 27
hate sex - kuroo tetsuro x reader
word count: 2100
warnings: swearing, nsfw, reader is yaku’s sister, both of them are kinda assholes but not really lol
kinktober masterlist
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Kuroo Tetsuro was a very talented individual. Because no one had the capacity to piss you off quite like he did.
You should’ve known the minute you walked into your biochem class that he would become the bane of your existence. You wished you had gotten some sort of warning when you chose your major. A sign. A whisper from the gods. Anything at all to stop you in your tracks. But no, you were here now, and you were stuck seeing him in class every time.
If only that was where it stopped. But then you discovered that he was on the college volleyball team with your brother Morisuke and apparently, they were thick as thieves. The nightmare just kept getting worse.
It’s not even that he was a jerk to you or he bullied you. You just thought he was too cocky and loud and the smirk he supported was stupid. Unfortunately, the moment he found out that you didn't like him, he made it his mission to annoy the crap out of you any chance he got.
He would make jokes about your height, or how uptight you were. He would call you dumb under his breath if you got something wrong in class, or would snicker when the teacher corrected you. He had a taunting lilt to his voice when he talked to you, like his mere words were making fun of you. It was embarrassing, and it stung a bit, but mostly it served to make you angry. Morisuke would always tell you to let it go. That Kuroo was a provocative and inflammatory person by nature, but at this point even his voice annoyed you.
“What kind of pleasure does this bring you?” You gritted out, refusing to look up at his stupid grin.
“It tingles me just right, sweets.” He replied.
“Ugh.” You made a disgusted face, giving him a look that hopefully communicated that.
“You are gross.” You responded, turning back to your book. “Now can you please leave? I have a quiz I need to study for.”
Kuroo hummed, as if contemplating your request. He leaned back in his chair, balancing it precariously on its two back legs. They squeaked in the silence of the library, making your cheek twitch.
“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m waiting for Yaku, remember?”
“And he told you to meet him here?” You didn’t look up at him.
“No, I told him to meet me here.”
You glared at him. “To purposely annoy me? Is that it? Why can’t you just stay away from me?”
He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweets.”
You turn to him completely this time. “Then what is it, Kuroo? Why the hell are you obsessed with me? How pathetic are you?”
Kuroo stared at you incredulously. “Obsessed with you?”
He leaned forward until his face was inches from yours, eyes narrowed in anger. You nearly reeled back but held yourself in place.
“You’ve got some nerve. Thinking everything is about you. You think I give a single fuck about you? You’re just Yaku’s whiny little sister who thinks the world revolves around her. You’re not worth my time, or anyone else’s. Get your head out of the clouds or you’re going to end up taking a fall you won’t survive.”
You stared at him in shock, watching him gather his bag and water bottle before he stood up and hastily left. You stared at his retreating back, and felt anger burn through you as his words registered in your head.
You ignored the hot tears that stung your eyes.
…………………
The knock on your dorm room door startled you, and you stared at it warily. You contemplated whether you should open it or not. Maybe you could stay quiet and pretend no one was home. You weren't really in any mood to talk to people.
“I know you’re in there. The light is on.”
You nearly groaned, eyes squeezing shut. Anger boiled up in you again, and in a moment of impulse, you rushed to the door, opening it with more force than necessary.
“You've got some nerve.” Your voice shook in anger when you met his golden eyes. “Coming here after the shit you said to me today.”
Kuroo sighed, shoulders slumping. “I came to apologize for that.”
You laughed in disbelief. “What part, Kuroo? Me being whiny or me being pathetic?”
He scowled. “I didn't call you pathetic.”
“You’re getting hung up on the semantics now?!” You shrieked, stepping back to slam the door shut. Kuroo shot his foot out, blocking you from doing so.
“Excuse me? I’m not going to apologize for something I didn't even say!” He stepped inside the room, shutting it behind him so your voices didn't carry into the halls. “In fact, I specifically remember you were the one who called me pathetic. Which you still haven’t apologised for, by the way.”
“Oh my god, I hate you!” You screamed, feeling your face get hot because of how angry you were.
“Trust me, the feeling is mutual!” Kuroo screamed back, stepping forward until he was right in your face. You stiffened at how he was towering over you, his chest heaving and breaths coming heavy and quick. His teeth were clenched, making his jaw tick. Your eyes tracked the movement. You watched a small droplet of sweat run down the side of his face.
You stepped forward until your lips met his.
Kuroo jerked back, looking at you with wide eyes, mouth dropped open in shock. You stared at each other for a few moments, completely silent. Then, the dam broke.
Kuroo grabbed the sides of your face, sealing your lips together in a searing kiss. You moaned into his mouth, giving him the opening to slide his tongue over yours. You backed up until your legs hit your bed, falling back and Kuroo following you down, not breaking the kiss. Your limbs tangled together in a flurry, attempting to rip each other’s clothes off as quickly as you could.
“Can you hurry?” You broke the kiss, glaring at him as you tugged his shirt off.
“Can you shut the fuck up?” He bit back, pulling your sweatpants off your legs.
His lips met yours in the next moment, effectively silencing you except the little moans leaving your lips. His bare body felt heavenly against yours, and for the first time you thanked the lords that he was an athlete.
He broke the kiss again, making his way down your body with his lips. He bit at your right breast, making your breath stutter.
“Of course you would like that.” He chuckled.
“Shut the fuck up, Kuroo. Don’t ruin this-” You dissolved into a moan when he licked over your nipple, biting at it slightly before sucking. You sighed at the feeling.
His hand groped at your other breast, hips grinding down. His crotch pressed between your legs, and the pressure made you whine.
“Hurry up.” You pushed at his boxers, trying to tug them down.
“Say please~” Kuroo smirked up at you. You nearly slapped him.
“Over my dead body.”
Kuroo sighed and lifted himself off your body. He slid off you slightly, making to stand up. “Well, in that case-”
“No!” You sat up, biting your lip, staring at him. You groaned. “God, I hate you.”
Kuroo chuckled. You gasped when his fingers brushed over your clothed core, before hooking a finger into your panties and pulling them off you. His fingertips dipped into your slit. Your breath stuttered.
“Kuroo.” You stared at him, his eyes dark and pupils dilated. His lips parted, tongue peaking out just a little to run over them. His fingers continued their feather-light touch.
“Please,” you gave in.
“Please what, baby?” You whined at the nickname, feeling your core pulse. God, his voice was so husky. You stared at his lips, eyes wandering to his shoulders, his pecs, his abs, to the bulge in his underwear that was hinting at how big he probably was.
“Touch me, Tetsuro.” You whispered. “Please. Touch me, fuck me. You want me to shut the fuck up? Make it happen, then.”
He was on you the next moment, teeth digging into your skin and fingers burying themselves deep in your pussy. You yelped and moaned, spreading your legs more so he could hit deeper. His fingers were so long and delicious, reaching your spot and rubbing against it just right. Within seconds, he had you seeing stars.
“You’re such a brat.” Kuroo bit out, fingers picking up speed instantly. You could barely breathe. Your body jolted under his movements. He was being so rough. “A spoiled little princess. Greedy girl. You’re even letting me fuck you just so you can get off.”
You cried at Kuroo’s words. Fuck. Why was this turning you on so much? You clenched around his fingers, and were met with the sight of his infamous smirk, except this time, it was so much hotter than any time you had seen it before. Kuroo looked like he was enjoying the crap out of this.
“Oh, you love this, don’t you?” He goaded you, curling his fingers until your back was arching off the bed. “Such a slut. What, you got a humiliation kink or something?”
“I’m gonna cum.” You choked out, tears swimming in your vision as your toes curled.
You should've known. This was Kuroo Tetsuro you were with. There’s no way he would let you have anything good. You nearly wailed when he pulled his fingers out, soaking wet with your juices.
“Kuroo!” You cried, tears spilling down your cheeks. “Don’t- why?!”
You didn’t even care that he was witnessing you break down over this. You were just about to have what could have been the most intense orgasm of your life and he denied you it.
“You fucking asshole-”
He shushed you, leaning over and shifting slightly. Something hard prodded at your entrance, before sinking into you in one fluid motion. Your mouth dropped open at the feeling, jaw going slack. He was big, long and oh so hard, and he grazed all the right spots as he slid into you.
Kuroo wiped the tears that soaked your cheeks, brushing his nose against yours in a manner that was almost affectionate. You stared up at him, still dizzy from your almost orgasm a few moments ago. His eyes held a glint that told you tonight was going to be brutal in the best way possible.
And you were right. Kuroo fucked you through three orgasms before he even slowed his pace. You were left a blabbering, bumbling mess by the time his hips stuttered and he emptied himself inside you, warm cum washing over your walls, pushing you through one more orgasm as his unrelenting fingers rubbed at your abused, swollen clit. He didn’t care when you whined at him to stop. He was merciless throughout. It was rough and hot and it made you see stars.
You didn’t even register when his body left yours, or when he came back and ran a washcloth over the mess between your legs. You turned on your side, back sore from all the arching. You were still out of breath as he tugged on his clothes, watching him fix his hair. Well, as fixed as his messy hair could get. Aside from the sweat on his face and his slightly heavy breathing, he seemed unfazed. You would think he was out for a run, not rearranging your guts.
You didn’t realize he was staring at you until a few moments later, when he leaned over to brush your hair off your face. His signature smirk spread over his lips.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re the best sex I’ve ever had too.”
You scowled as he straightened up, making his way to the door. “What the hell do you mean ‘too’?
He didn’t answer, humming happily to himself as he tugged his shoes on.
“You aren’t the best sex I’ve ever had.” You sat up, feeling your face turn red. He gave you a look that was so smug it made you stiffen in embarrassment. You knew he didn’t believe a word you just said. You also knew that Kuroo’s already humongous ego was about to shoot through the fucking roof.
“You’re not.” You mumbled. Kuroo pulled the door open, still supporting the insufferable smirk on his face, giving you a teasing wink.
“You’re not, Kuroo!” You called behind him as the door clicked shut. Sighing, you flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling and ruminating on everything that had just happened.
Fuck.
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Taglist:
@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein
A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!
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lixzey · 6 months
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monster among men
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“It's only two to three times a week, Y/n. It's not that bad, I mean would you rather patrol with Snape? He's a greasy git, unlike Regulus Black, have you even looked at him? He's bloody fit!” One of Y/n's friends, Mary MacDonald, gushed as she looked over at the Slytherin table. 
Y/n rolled her eyes at the brunette, “He is not fit, Mary.” 
Marlene McKinnon scoffed, “Are you daft? Or are you just blind?”
“What do you two even see in that git? He's annoying, self-centered, pompous, and arrogant.”
“Well, yeah, but look at his face!” Marlene jerked her head towards the Slytherin table. Y/n rolled her eyes, “No thanks, I'd rather gouge my eyes out.” 
“So stuck up, Y/n.” Mary chuckled, shoveling a spoonful of mashed potatoes in her mouth, making Y/n scrunch her nose. 
“He just looks like Sirius, what's so special about him?” Y/n grumbled, taking a glance at the Slytherin table. 
“Sirius looks like a bad boy, while Regulus, he looks like he was carved by the gods. Yeah, they look alike, but Regulus has much more defined facial structures. Have you seen that jawline? Merlin, I think it could cut my finger if I touched it.” Marlene explained, eyeing Y/n as if she was a first year.
“That is if he'd let you touch him.” Y/n chuckled, “That git's more sensitive than Sirius.” 
“Speaking of Sirius,” Mary started, her voice lower than what it was before, “Do you think he's okay that you're partnered with his brother? I mean, Sirius is like your brother too at this point.” 
“You think he can persuade Professor McGonagall to pair me up with someone else? No, he can't, making his opinion invalid. Even if he isn't okay with it, he doesn't really have a say in it.” Y/n sighed, reaching for a treacle tart, “But if he could, it would be absolutely amazing, but I wouldn't get my hopes up.” 
After the little incident in the Prefect's compartments, Y/n stormed off, dragging Remus behind her. The Head Boy and Girl, allowed her to take patrols with Remus on the train, on the condition that she will comply with the partnering situations. As soon as Y/n stepped off of the train, she avoided Regulus as much as possible. Being both Prefects, they had the privilege of riding in separate carriages up to the school. Y/n decided to run off and find her friends instead, much to the amusement of her brother and Lily. 
Throughout the sorting ceremony, Y/n's mind wandered to the possible things that could happen on patrols with Regulus Black. The possibilities were endless. Regulus could hex her, Y/n could punch him, Regulus could push her down the stairs, or maybe, just maybe, Y/n could push in the Black Lake and feed him to the giant squid. Just thinking of his smug face made Y/n's blood boil to a temperature she didn't know was even possible. 
“Hey, Y/n, look!” Marlene said, tapping her on the shoulder, snapping her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the direction her friend was pointing to, only to see Regulus Black, being dragged out of the Great Hall by a grinning Sirius Black, a laughing James Potter, an annoyed Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew stumbling after them.
Y/n knitted her brows together, “What in Merlin's name are they doing?”
“They're going to give him the protective brother's speech.” Lily chimed in, sitting beside Y/n, making her jump. “Bloody hell, Lily! You gave me a fright!” 
Lily grinned, “Jumpy, are we?” 
Y/n rolled her eyes at the redhead, “I hate you.”
Lily chuckled, “You love me.” 
“So, a big brother's speech, huh?” Mary laughed, “Aren't they protective?”
“Oh please, Sirius probably just wants an excuse to bother his brother.” Y/n shrugged. She wouldn't put it past her brother and Sirius, knowing that they were absolutely protective when it comes to her, their 'baby sister'. Y/n sighed, eyeing her friends, “You want me to follow them, don't you?”
Marlene and Mary nodded enthusiastically. Y/n groaned, “Really?” 
“Yes, really!” Marlene grinned, “And you need to tell us everything!” 
“Yeah, we need all the details!” Mary insisted. 
Y/n groaned again, lightly hitting her head on the table. “Bloody gossiping shits.” Y/n murmured. 
“What was that, Y/n/n? Speak up, love.” Marlene teased. 
Y/n lifted her head up, glaring at Marlene, and gripping the fork in her hand. “I am this close to stabbing you with this fork.” 
“Just go! Go and eavesdrop on them!” Mary pushed, “Come on, don't you want to hear what your brother and Sirius have to say? Don't you want to hear what Regulus has to say?”
“Ugh, fine!” Y/n huffed, giving into her friends' pushing. She glanced at Lily, who just shrugged, “I mean, it would be interesting.” 
Y/n sighed, “You three better save me some chocolate muffins for later.” She grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder before standing up and taking one last glance at her friends. “And, you three owe me a butterbeer and some sugar quills on the next Hogsmeade trip.” 
“Fine, fine, now go!” Marlene grinned, jerking her head towards the door. Y/nbrolled her eyes and shook her head, before walking away from the Gryffindor table, making her way out of the Great Hall. 
“Don't forget your patrols with Black in the seventh floor corridor from eight to midnight!” Lily yelled after her. Y/n glanced back, and stuck her tongue out at Lily. She then walked out of the bustling hall and went to find the Marauders. 
It didn't take long for Y/n to find her brother and the rest of the boys. She could hear whimpering and Sirius' voice loud and clear in a nearby alcove. Y/n walked closer, casting a disillusionment charm over herself. Y/n peered over, and saw Sirius pinning his brother into the wall behind him. 
“-if you as much as hurt a hair on her head, I will hunt you down and throw you off of the astronomy tower, Reggie.” Sirius threatened in a low voice, which is a known trait in the Black family. They could be intimidating when they wanted to, and Sirius wasn't an exception to that. His grey eyes were dark and it was clear what his intentions were. Y/n's eyes then darted to Regulus, his face was calm—as if unfazed of what his brother told him. Though, there was a hint of fear in his eyes. 
“I w-won't h-hurt her, I won't. I p-promise.” Regulus whimpered, his eyes meeting with his brother's as he struggled in his grip. 
“Just know, if you hurt my sister, I will be known from then on as James Potter, the one who killed Regulus Black, the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.” James spat, his hazel eyes flashing. At the sight of hazel eyes flashing at him, Regulus was reminded of another pair of hazel eyes—who was often too angry with him too. 
“I-I won't hurt her, I-I won't hurt Y/n.” 
James' eyes softened for a bit. “You can let him go now, Padfoot.” 
Regulus let out a breath of relief as soon as he felt his brother's hands were off of him. His eyes trailed up, meeting the eyes of Remus Lupin. “I know you know what I am,” He started, “If I see that girl hurt at your expense, I'll have your brother tie you up on a full moon.” Remus ended in a low voice, and Regulus could've sworn his eyes turned gold for a split second. Regulus felt his eyes boring into his soul, as if Remus could see his deepest darkest secrets. He stood up taller, composing his thoughts, before meeting James, Sirius, and Remus eye to eye. “Y-you h-have my w-word. I will n-never hurt Y/N Potter.”
Though he hates the girl, Regulus does not want to hurt Y/n. For the past five years that they had each other's wands in their throats, Regulus never hexed her. He would send jinxes her way, but never hexes. He was more of the victim of her hexes—the bat bogey hex and stinging hexes were her specialties—and he had scars to prove it. Y/n Potter was a powerful witch, and there was no doubt about that. But even without a wand, she can hurt him. At the memory, Regulus tasted blood in his mouth, though there wasn't. “That girl can hurt me before I can even grab my wand.” Regulus mumbled softly, nearly a whisper. 
Remus, having heard him with his enhanced senses, “Oh, we know. But Y/n, she has her moments, and in those moments you could strike her, and we don't want that.” 
Regulus rolled his eyes, “Alright, fine. I won't do anything to your little witch.” 
“You better.” James reminded, “If my sister-”
“I said I won't, Merlin, Potter! How many times am I going to say it?” Regulus snapped, his temper overtaking him. 
“Just making it clear.” 
Regulus rolled his eyes, “It's crystal clear.”
Y/n chuckled softly. Seeing Regulus Black getting annoyed at her brother while he couldn't do anything because of Sirius was the first time Y/n has seen him not get what he wanted. She took off her disillusionment charm, and silently crept behind her brother.
Y/n cleared her throat loudly. “What are you guys doing?” 
“Mother of Merlin!” Sirius shrieked, jumping into James' arms. Y/n burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. “Scaredy cat!” 
Regulus fought hard not to crack a smile, the sight of Y/n Potter laughing, wasn't a sight he gets to see everyday. The way her hair falls over her shoulders, the way her eyes sparkle in the moonlight, the way her laugh sounded like angels singing. 
What? Moonlight? Angels? What the bloody fuck is wrong with you, Regulus!? 
“Oi, Black!” The sound of Y/n's voice snapped him out of his trance. “Huh? What?” 
Y/n rolled her eyes, “Are you deaf? I said we have patrols in the seventh floor corridor from eight until midnight.”
Regulus glanced at James, who was mouthing: I got my eyes on you, Regulus. Don't do anything stupid. Regulus silently cursed him, before turning back to the girl in front of him. “Alright. I'll meet you there in an hour.”
Y/n gave him a curt nod, before turning her back and walking to her brother. She linked arms with James, and the four walked away. Before they got out of sight, Y/n shot a glance back at Regulus and stuck her tongue out. 
Regulus chuckled softly, shaking his head, before turning away, a small smile gracing his lips.  
@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @lilmaymayy @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive
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kinopio-writes · 2 months
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A/N: Decided to answer these two in one go. Screenshotted, lol. 3rd POV and the reader is referred to as they/it like last time. Also, I’m gonna be honest with you, after the last Adam post, I started to find his relationship with Sera and Lute intriguing. They both make an appearance (separately).
I just found out. Apparently, Sera and Emily are sisters (just with huge age gaps)? Well, I never viewed them as actual mother and daughter, but I was leaning more towards motherly-figure Sera. Kept it vague.
Words: 1,404 (not including the bullet points)
Warnings: Swearing (surprisingly not as vulgar as pt.1)
———
More Adam w/ a Child!Reader
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• to solidify my statement that Adam wouldn’t just give the child away to someone else—along with the points I said in the previous Adam post—is because he didn’t want to seem incapable and, God forbid, ask for help?
• uh-uh. No way
• also, I don’t really see their first word being “papa”
• because of Adam, the kid cursing as their first word seems pretty on-brand
• not to mention that I don’t think they were with many people other than Adam, Lute, possibly Sera, and maybe his friends, too
• if he even has any
• and this isn’t even slander (when Charlie said, haven’t you had a night of drinking with friends after a rough night, he neither confirmed nor denied it. Not exactly the most reliable proof, but I take whatever I get)
• so, yeah, they were stuck with Adam’s vocabulary, unfortunately
• but for the sake of it, I’ll do “papa” as their first word (“fafa”, actually. You’ll get it when you read it)
Also, uh, heavily focused on Adam. Again. I mean, you can’t really do much with a child!reader in regards to personality, so.
———
Adam sat comfortably on his chair outside his balcony, his hand carrying Adam Jr. while the other was mindlessly plucking at his wings’ loose feathers. He would let them fall onto the floor after collecting a pile of them on his lap, finding that to be the only source of entertainment he could do without his kid crying.
Before he was going to push his feathers off his lap, a gust of wind blew them off for him and they flew over the edge of his balcony. All of his previous feathers slipped through the railing’s gaps as well.
His hand lingered mid-air as he looked up to see Sera land next to him. “Holy shit.” He instantly became more animated, a grin forming on his face as he stood up. “Y’know, I keep forgetting that anyone can just waltz in here.”
“Good evening to you, too, Adam.”
He bit back from replying rudely, instead choosing to place his hand on his hip while he held Adam Jr. closer to him. “Yeah, whatever.”
Sera then went on to dramatically stare down at the scenery above the city of Heaven, hands folded in front of her as Adam waited for her to say something. He got impatient after a few seconds.
“What’s up your ass?”
She turned her head to face him and furrowed her brows. He only rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching downward into a grimace as he slightly turned his head away from the head seraphim. Her attention was instantly directed to the baby in his arms. “Do you mind if I hold it?”
Adam jerked back at the sudden ask. “Uh, weird request…but you do you.” When he didn’t attempt to move, Sera leaned down and took the sleeping child from his secured arms, standing back to her height as she observed their peaceful slumber.
Quite a surprise, frankly. She didn’t think Adam was capable of handling something so fragile as life for more than a day, let alone a whole year.
The feeling of a baby in her arms made her reminisce about the time when Emily was just as little.
“The concept of birth is astonishing…”
“ʼKay…?”
“Having a child is one of God’s greatest blessings...”
“Uh-huh.”
“You must be very proud…”
“Uh, yeah…sure…”
“It even has your wings.”
“Y’know, this is starting to feel a little one-sided right now.”
“What I’m trying to say is—” Sera seemed to have gotten out of her sentimental trance and narrowed her eyes at the man below her, “—you are fortunate to have this child, Adam.” She slowly returned the child to its father and watched as Adam held them back securely in his arms. “Children grow up faster than you think. Spend your time wisely. It’s not as if you’ll get any older yourself.”
“Mhm, yeah, got it.” The seraphim only hardened her gaze. “Okay! Fatherhood is the best thing ever, time is faster than the speed of light blah blah blah.” He swayed his head from side to side to emphasize each word, shoulders slumped. “Sheesh. Don’t have to be so sensitive over a kid that isn’t yours.”
Sera tightly shut her already parted lips and deeply breathed out through her nose, turning her back on the man and pushing the hair that strayed on her face. She didn’t say anything more and simply stared at the view on his balcony again.
Adam only raised a brow at her unusual behavior.
“So, not that I care or anything, or about your weird touchy-feely icky vibes, but you never told me why you’re here, so, if you could just tell me what I need to know and leave, that’ll be really great—”
“Adam.”
“Okay. Fine.” He held up a hand and lifted his shoulders. “Wallow in your melancholic—whatever this is. It totes ruined my vibes. I’mma dip.” Adam flapped his wings to get himself on the railings as the head seraphim watched him gently fly down with his child.
Sera speculated he would most likely come back after ten minutes. That would hopefully be enough time for her to have a composed mind to have a discussion with the first man.
———
“Say, ‘fuck’.”
He was told that it was smart to teach his kid how to start speaking at this age with pictures and shit. Adam, however, went with his method and sat Adam Jr. and himself on the carpet floor, repeatedly saying what he wanted it to say. He’d been like this for half an hour.
“Fafa!”
He blinked.
“That’s not what I fucking wanted you to say, but, close enough.” He shrugged. “Now say, ‘di—”
••• (this means time skip, btw. Not in the form of changing to a different scenario)
It was only after Lute came over that he realized what his kid just said.
“Yeah, so my kid just called me his dad. First words,” Adam spoke with drawled-out speech, inspecting his lack of nails. “Pretty dope,” he accentuated the ‘p’ in ‘dope’
“That’s not what we were talking about, Sir.” Lute had her hands on the edge of the table as they both sat on the carpet floor.
“Uh, does it look like I care?” He had his kid on his lap, playing with it by holding its hands in his and making them punch thin air. “ʼSides, we still have a week to finish this shit.”
Lute only deadpanned at her leader going off-topic to talk about his kid but said nothing more, deciding it was best to let him run out of things to say so they could get some work done without interruption.
———
“Yeah, you little piece of shit, slash ʼem!” Adam’s maniacal and obnoxious laughter bounced around his living room space as Adam Jr. punctured the heads of hand-made figures of sinners with their fake angelic spear (he couldn’t get a real one, unfortunately. They’re only obtainable during the extermination).
Lute happened to walk in on the scene. Adam always left his balcony door open. His neighbors, despite being come-and-goers, continually complained about his loud guitar sequences. He always responded with something about how he was being generous and that they should be happy—heck, blessed that they were getting a free concert without having to pay.
He hasn’t had those arguments lately, though.
She observed him sitting on the cardboard-littered floor with his HolyPhone (not canon; my brother came up with it) in hand, assumably recording his child slaughtering the wretched sinners.
He had the biggest smile she’d ever seen on his mask.
“Sir, what are you doing?”
“AH!” he released a guttural yell as he snapped his head over to the source of the voice. “Jeez, Lute—what does it look like I’m doing?”
The lieutenant immediately answered, “Playing with your offspring, Sir.”
“I’m not playing! I had tons of cardboard lying around from my fan mail, and throwing them all away’s a bother.” he defensively retorted. “And, ew, don’t call it offspring. It’s Adam Jr. now. Check it.” Adam clumsily messed with his phone, muttering curses until he found the video he was looking for in his endless album of blurry photos. He showed the screen to Lute, not realizing it wasn’t even playing. “This kid will grow up to be such a badass!”
“But it isn’t meant to be an exterminator, Sir.”
“Uh, so what?” He placed his hands on his hips.
Lute missed a beat when countering, “Sera won’t allow it.”
“Pftt, what? No.” Adam refuted with a wave of his hand. “She so would. I have the proof.” He lifted his phone and shook it for emphasis. “And it’s my extermination, so I do whatever the fuck I want.”
Lute turned her head away momentarily before perking back up. “When it grows up eventually, it’s a possibility.”
“Ah, what? I can’t wait that loooong,” he whined, slumping onto the floor. “Bummer. I mean, imagine a tiny cunt-born exorcist! How cool is that? The first in history!”
She nodded. “With it under your wing, I know that it can learn our ways just as quickly as we kill those wretched sinners.”
Adam tapped a finger on his chin, face scrunched in thought before he placed his hands on his hips as he kneeled on the floor. “Hmm, yeah.” He spread out his wings, too lazy to stand up on his own two feet. He then plucked Adam Jr. from the floor by their armpits, deciding to bring them along without much thought. “Let’s go pitch the idea to Sera. And let’s get takeout on the way.”
“Right beside you, Sir.”
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lipglossanon · 10 months
Text
You Better Lie Down
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
stepbro!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)
this was a scrapped idea but people have shown interest so I revised it a little to make more sense in places lol so the ending is kinda meh 🤷‍♀️
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, stepcest, incest kink, mean stepbro Leon, bratty reader, dirty talk, masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, some nipple play
not proofread just looked over 😂
Title from Sister from She Wants Revenge
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
“Get the hell out, Leon!”
“No can do, princess. Looks like we’re roomies,” he smirks at you from the doorway, crossing his arms and leaning against the frame. 
You hate him. You hate his stupid hair and his stupid face and his stupid muscles and his stupidly big di—
A loud thud makes you jump and you turn to glare at Leon who tosses a duffel bag down on the floor. 
“Don’t get pissed off at me,” he shrugs easily, grin spreading over his face as he flops down on your bed jostling you, “dear old mom and dad have to renovate my room so I’m here.”
He bats his eyes at you, “Besides don’t act like you hate it, you’ll be crying on my cock tonight anyway.”
White hot arousal flares through your body, irritation quickly following on its heels to overtake it. 
You shove Leon as you stand up off the bed, “You’re such an asshole.”
You snags your arm and tugs you right back down on the bed, hands coming up to quickly pin your wrists together and hold them over your head as he cages you under his bulky body. 
“I don’t think I heard you correctly,” his eyes are dark and mean, as he grinds your wrists together making you wince, “what did you just say?”
“I said,” you over enunciate your words, “you are an asshole.”
You can see him gearing up to do something but lucky for you (at least) your mom is calling for you both to be downstairs pronto. 
“Guess this’ll just have to wait, princess,” Leon rears up with a sneer and leaves you laying on your bed. 
You raise up and blow out a breath. God he really is an infuriating asshole.
Later that night after the quick rundown from your mom of what’s going on, and then having to help move furniture, you’re wiped and ready to crash into bed after your shower. Just throwing on some thin sleep shorts and a ratty old tee shirt, you enter your room about to collapse against your mattress only to see Leon sprawled across your bedspread. 
Your mouth is open, ready to unleash a scathing remark but slowly closes as you frown at him. The jerk is completely passed out, ear buds in, and phone clasped loosely in his hand. Mentally, you’re seething with rage but outwardly you just blow out another heavy breath. Standing there for a moment you take in Leon’s tank top and baggy shorts. His eyelashes dust his cheeks and his face looks soft. Like this he looks… sweet. 
Frowning to yourself—get a grip—you shake your head. Softly you pad over to what you’re going to deem as his side of the bed for now. You take his phone and shut off the music and set it on the nightstand. Gently, you also slip out his ear buds and turn those off, setting them next to his phone. 
“Why am I even being nice?” you mutter to yourself, walking back over to your side. 
You shift Leon over as far as you comfortably can and slip under your sheets. It’s awkward as he’s still on top making it hard to even turn over but you just accept it—better than waking him up. Since you’re actually pretty tired, you fall asleep rather easily. 
Sometime in the night, you wake up. Your back is to Leon and so you lay there peering at your vanity wondering what even woke you up. The bed moves as Leon shifts around behind you. Rolling your eyes, you think that definitely must’ve been it and determine to go back to sleep. 
Your eyes slip shut but then there’s movement behind you again followed by a strangled sound. You tense, planning on rolling over, but you hear Leon groan and you realize the bed’s moving more rhythmically than you thought. 
Wide eyed, you realize he’s jerking off next to you. You freeze in place afraid to move or breathe differently in case he notices. 
“Fuck,” he whispers to himself followed by a wet noise that makes your thighs clench. 
Your eyes drift across your room and come back to your vanity where you can kinda see Leon and yourself at this angle. Mostly, you just see his arm move in time with the bed pretty much confirming what’s happening. You feel so hot now but you don’t want to push the blankets off. 
Your legs shift and he completely stops what he’s doing with a low hiss. Once he thinks you’re not going to move again, he picks right back up, stroking himself off with a grunt. 
Nipples hardening at the noises he’s making, you decide to roll over and feign being asleep so you can at least peek at what he’s doing. So, mind made up you shift sides making it seem as natural as you think it would look (you’re asleep how’re you really gonna know?). 
Leon stops again, breathing shaky, as you get comfortable on your side now facing him. 
“Hey,” he whispers, “you awake?”
You ignore him and keep your breathing steady. After another minute or so, Leon can’t help himself any longer. 
“Fuck me,” he moans, fist gripping his fat cock and jerking slowly, “you’re just so fucking pretty.”
Your clit throbs but you stay still, eyelids cracking open just a smidge to watch his cock weep precum all over his fist as he fucks up into it. 
“Wish I could fill up that tight little pussy,” his voice rumbles low in his chest, “god, can’t believe my little sister’s cunt is better than my girlfriend’s. Fuck.”
Arousal surges through your body so fast you feel lightheaded. Your toes curl under the covers as your pussy aches to be filled. 
“Got me so hard,” he whines to himself, “fucking hate that I fell asleep waiting on you. Was gonna eat that cute pussy til you cried.”
Your thighs clench trying to ease the tension in your core but doesn’t really do anything except make you wish for more. You watch as Leon’s hand pumps his cock slowly, teasing himself as he drips precum all over the place. You watch as his dick throbs in his fist as he teases the head with short strokes. 
“Haven’t stopped thinking about how much you liked it, liked me railing you into this bed,” he grinds his head back against the pillow, “fucking hell.”
You whimper, gaze looking up into Leon’s face as his hazy eyes look over at the noise. 
“You finally awake, princess?” he grins but it loses some of its edge when he moans as his cock kicks in his hand. 
You push up on your elbow and move over until you’re pressed all along Leon’s side. Eyes dragging from his face down to his cock drooling all over his fingers, makes you whine and press your chest hard into his body. 
“Leon,” you whisper, fingers slipping under the band of your panties to tease across your aching clit, “do you—“
“Yes,” he grits out, pulling his hand away from his cock to tug your hand from your panties. 
His eyes flutter when he slips your fingers into his mouth to taste your slick. 
With a growl, he’s shoving you onto your back and knocking your legs apart so he can kneel between them. 
“You don’t even know what I was gonna say?” you giggle up at him, high on arousal. 
His mouth ticks up into a mean smile, “Does it matter? We both need me in your pussy, don’t we, princess?”
With a whine, you nod helping him take your clothes off until you’re completely naked underneath him. He tugs on your nipples until you arch up with a whimper.  He takes off his shirt and slips his shorts and underwear completely off then cages you under his bulky body. 
Your hands go up to his shoulders as you cant your hips up, bumping your clit against the fat tip of his dick. 
“Want it, big brother,” you murmur, eyes lidded as you see his pupils dilate even more, “need you in my pussy so bad.”
“Yeah?” he grips his cock with one hand and slaps it across your swollen bud driving you to thrust up against him with a moan, “sounds like you do.”
He drags his tips through your slick folds and presses against your clenching hole. 
“Gotta relax,” he coos, “let big brother make you feel good.”
Your nails dig into his shoulders making him buck forward, cock slipping into your soaked hole. 
“Fuck,” he hisses, eyes shut, “take it, princess, since you need it so much.”
He pulls out until just the tip is spreading your cunt and fucks back in, bullying his cock into your pussy until he’s buried balls deep. 
Eyes rolling back, your nails scratch up Leon’s arms as a high and reedy whine slips from your throat. 
“Mmhmm,” he laughs at you, “this cute little pussy needed to be dicked down huh?” 
“Yes, yes, please,” you gasp out, pussy clamped down around Leon’s cock, “feels so good.”
“Fuck.”
He drops down to his elbows, pushing more of his weight onto you while you wrap your legs around his waist to keep him there. Your fluttering walls wring another low groan from him as he grinds against you. 
“More, more, please,” you whimper, tugging on his biceps, “pin me down please, want it so bad, Leon.”
He humps down into your pussy as he lets himself ease down on top of you. 
“You sure?” his hot breath caresses the shell of your ear, “you won’t be able to move, baby.”
“Don’t need to,” you mewl, “pin me down please, want to feel you.”
His chuckle vibrates deep in his chest, “Okay, gonna take care of my little sis, make sure you feel nice and full.”
Whining, your thighs close against his waist harder as you try to rock up into his thrusting cock. Try. Now that Leon has dropped most of his body weight on you to rut into your sopping wet cunt, you’re trapped underneath his broad frame making your clit throb. 
“S’good, so good big brother,” you can’t stop rambling, body feeling too overwhelmed in the best way, “m’pussy feels so good, it’s all stretched out.”
“Good,” he laughs against your ear, “sound cockdrunk already and we’ve barely started.”
“Can’t help it,” you whine, pressing a messy kiss to his jaw, “it’s so big.”
He growls and snaps his hips harder into your wet hole, bullying his cock over and over into your squelching pussy. You’re whining so loud but neither of you think to muffle the noise. Leon’s thrust are banging your headboard against the wall, pressing you down harder into the mattress. 
His fat tips keeps knocking into your cervix making you squeal and pant, pussy clamping down on his cock more and more as your g-spot is rubbed every time he pulls out. 
“Aww is my cute littler sister about to cum?” Leon mocks, “is her tiny pussy gonna cum from big brother’s fat cock splitting her open?”
Tears are slipping from your eyes as you nod quickly, arousal ramping up from his condescending tone, “Uh huh, Leon ‘m about to cum. Please, I wanna cum.”
“Then tell me who’s gonna make you cum, princess? I might rub that slippery little clit if you beg me just right,” his smile is mean as he laughs again. 
Panting you reply, “M-my big brother is gonna make me cum on his cock. On his stupidly fat cock.”
He groans, “Fuck, that’s what I like to hear. Get mean with me, baby.”
“I hate how good this feels,” you moan, “I hate how I love having your big dick in my pussy stretching me open. Feels so good.”
He grunts and slips a hand down between the tight space of your bodies and teasingly rubs your swollen clit. 
“Tell me more,” his voice is husky and low, sea dark eyes staring in yours, “tell me more, baby sis.”
“I like that I’m your little sister,” you finally choke out on a low moan, “fuck, love that you’re my big brother, and I especially love that you cum in my pussy.”
He growls and fucks his tongue into your parted mouth. You move your hands from his shoulders to his hair as you sloppily make out. His fingers pinch and rub against your clit in rough little circles until you’re screaming into his mouth, climax wiping out everything except that euphoric feeling overtaking your body. 
“Fuck you’re milking me so good,” he presses his face into your neck as his hips rabbit into your cunt, cock finally burying deep in your fluttering walls. 
You moan brokenly as hot spurts of cum fill your cunt, sticky rope after rope painting your walls white. Leon rocks himself against you as he lets your pussy milk his cock til he’s spent. 
He pulls out of your spasming hole and you whine to see his spent dick shiny with slick and cum. He collapses next to you on the bed. 
“I’m not gonna want to go back to my room when it’s ready,” he grumbles, dragging you into his arms so he can nose across your hairline, “pussy too good.”
“Leon,” you huff out, irritation flirting at your tone, “shut up.”
“Yes ma’am,” he snarks, pinching a nipple making you hiss. 
You try to push him away but he shifts down and sucks that same nipple into his mouth. Your hands wind in his hair but when he just keeps suckling at the hard bud, you only sigh and let him move over the other nipple. 
“Leon, what’re you doing?” you bite your lip as he squishes your breasts together to suck and lick across both nipples. 
“Shutting up,” he grins at you, nipping the underside of your breasts, “can’t talk if I’m sucking on your tits right?”
He doesn’t let you answer and goes back to lathing attention across your breasts until you’re wet and squirming, pressing them into his face. 
“Leon,” you whine, “touch me, please.”
He groans, sucking your nipple into his mouth as he spreads your legs to slide his hard cock between your thighs to rub against your pussy. 
“Can I?”
“Yes, yes, please.”
“Ohh, fucking hell, you’re so wet.”
“Big brother, please, play with my clit.”
“I’ve got you princess, fuck, y’keep squeezing that tight pussy on me and I’m gonna bust way too soon.”
“Leon, please—oh yes there, right there. Big brother please, oh god, yes.”
“How did you get even tighter? Mm that’s it’s take my cock baby sis, fucking—“
“I’m gonna cum so fast, my clit’s so sensitive now.”
“Fuck yes, cum on my cock again, squeeze out another load for that cute pussy. There we go, oh fuck, that’s it that’s it—“
“‘m cumming, oh Leon I’m—“
You kiss each other to stop the loud moans and whines from slipping out, both of you cumming one after the other. Leon presses himself as deep as he can into your pussy, hot cum flooding your sore fluttering walls as you milk him for every drop. 
“If we don’t stop now, we’ll never get any sleep,” Leon whispers against your lips, slowly slipping his cock from your hole. 
You whine to feel the mess of slick and cum drip all over your thighs. 
“I know,” you finally roll onto your back, jaw cracking with a yawn. 
He lays next to you, pressed against your side as he throws an arm over your waist. 
“Don’t wake me up before eight,” he mumbles into your shoulder. 
“Same goes to you,” you roll your eyes knowing he can’t see it. 
In no time at all, you’re lulled to sleep from Leon’s body heat and deep even breaths. 
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