#i was lazy to do my usual graphics

[highlordofkrypton]

martha kent & pie 🥧

chapter 1 of a thousand leagues of food

SUMMARY

Everyone knows about Martha Kent's famous pies; they're the best in the midwest. The real question is, do you know why Martha loves pie? They say, the most important ingredient is love.

Note: Thank you @angelosearch for inspiring me and letting me use your thesis for the basis of this fic!

Additional note: I'm open to suggestions for characters you'd like to see in future chapters, I'm making a list!

Martha Clark loves pie.

She loves the way it moves beneath calloused hands—hands that have worked the farm all day. The strength just as much as it demands attention, threatening to crumble at a careless touch. She loves the way it shapes the man who kneads it, outlining the divot between muscle and bone of his forearm. He’s got his sleeves rolled up, and oh, what a sight to see. 

Her teeth catch on her lip, a little too thoughtful as she watches.

“Bored?” The farm boy asks.

“Not at all,” answers the city girl. “Tired?”

“Not at all.”

His grin is dashing, a flash of bright white framed by deep dimples. His nose looks impressively straight, except for the faint bump that she’s traced a hundred times over while laying in his arms, cradled by his bed. He’d broken it in high school roughhousing with his former teammates on the football team. Jonathan Kent is all but a mystery, but she loves every single thing about him.

“Come, I’ll show you.” He gestures to her, and she slips off of the stool to wipe a stray dusting of flour off his face.

“I thought you were treating me to dinner, handsome? Kent family’s famous pie.” Her own lips are painted a soft pink. Red’s for ugly girls, her mother would say. Insecure girls who need attention. She finds that she wants his, and maybe next time she’ll dare. “Isn’t the recipe a secret?”

“Mhm.” Jonathan frames her petite body with his arms, sliding his rough palms over her soft hands and guides her fingers through the dough. “Family only.”

The thought sends a shiver through her spine, or is that the warmth of him pressed against her back? He considers me family. It’s a lovely thought; it makes her fall all the more in love with him. Martha won’t let him off easy—what kind of gal does he think she is?

“You proposin’ to me, Mister Kent?”

His laughter rumbles in his chest, echoed into her from the proximity. “Not at all, Miss Clark. See, if I was proposin’, you’ll bet there’ll be a big hullabaloo. Pretty city girl turns her back on the social elite, runs off with a dashing farmer. It’ll be on all the Kansas papers.” 

“Jonathan! You’ll give my mother a heart attack.”

Jonathan leans close, kissing her cheek. “Nah, when I propose, you’ll know it.”

Martha tips her head giving him more access, and turns to kiss him. She likes him, and he’s a good man, but they’re not a match. Her father and her mother won’t hear of it, much less her long line of aunties who just want her to be taken care of. (And by that, they mean money.) John loves her, and he treats her better than any of the boys she’s been set up with. Gosh, she’d be happy here. She really, really would.

A little prayer goes a long way, so she’ll send her love to the stars and hope it all works out.

“I think it’s ready for the par bake.”

Jonathan moves to set the crust in the baking pan, and fill it with uncooked beans. It slides easily into the old oven that’s been in his home for generations, a study old thing.

“My, what ever will we do while waiting?”

“I think I have an idea,” Jonathan smirks and picks her up, but not before wiping his hands clean.

Hooking her arms across his shoulders, Martha can’t help herself. “Do you mean it, John? You really want to marry me one day?”

“I don’t make pie for just anyone, but yeah, sweet pea, you’re the love of my life. If it isn’t you, I don’t want anyone else.”

***

“This is the last time. I can’t do it anymore, John.” Her voice quivers with unshed tears and a weakness that has never been present in her heart and her soul. 

The years have been hard on them, and she was too damn young when she decided that love was enough. Love carried them through the hardest seasons—through a drought when no crops would yield, and the old tree crashing into the barn after a storm. Every cent they make goes to the bills, and what little savings they can manage for the baby.

The baby that isn’t coming.

The baby that won’t ever come.

They’ve tried and tried again. Martha can buckle down and get a job in town waitressing. She can take up more hours at the local post office or help ol’ Pete, the local accountant during tax season. She’s always been good with numbers, but she’s not so good to make the dollars multiply on a whim. Together, they’ve found a way, but there isn’t a way through this .

It’s God’s will, and damn his will. She’s never cursed him before, but this is the line.

Martha slams the crust on the table, taking her anger out on it, because it isn’t anyone’s fault.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jonathan exhales, sliding up behind her and catching her wrists. “We always said, if it’s meant to be, it will be. Maybe a baby isn’t meant for us.”

“It’s—,” she snaps, curling her fingers into the sad mix of flour, butter and water. She wasn’t paying attention, she doesn’t remember if the steps are correct. If her hands are grounded with this tasks, then maybe it’ll stop her mind from running off. 

It’s too late now because the words are tumbling from her mouth before she can stop them. “It’s my fault. I can’t keep a baby.”

“Don’t you dare,” Jonathan stops her, pulling his wife into his arms. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this.”

***

The ‘boom’ of the crash wakes her, but it’s the fire that gets her out of bed. Martha shoves her feet in her boots, and grabs the shotgun while telling her husband to get the water trailer. If they don’t stop the fire now, it’ll spread to the rest of their crops and they won’t have anything . She’s fought too damn hard for this life, and she won’t lose it now. They can argue about government conspiracies and aliens later.

She joins him in the truck, buckled in tightly while holding her weapon. Times have changed. Kids are meaner and rowdier—you never know when they’ll take their pranks too far. The gun’s just for emphasis. Martha Kent wouldn’t hurt a fly.

There isn’t anyone at the heart of the crash, but the fire comes first. Once they’ve doused their stalks of corn, Martha can focus on what on earth is going on. No, no, not Earth.

“Think it’s a satellite?”

“I thought you said you weren’t sure if the moon landing was real.”

“I stand corrected.”

Jonathan slides down the dirt  into the crater. Once he’s at the bottom, Martha tosses him the shotgun just in case. 

“If there’s anyone in there, come out and we won’t harm ya.”

Nothing happens for a long, long moment. Then, a loud hiss fills their ears, coming from the… the hunk of metal. It opens smoothly, despite its disgraceful landing, revealing a bright, bright light. It settles and dims just enough for them to see it—

A baby. 

A tiny little thing, swaddled in a crimson blanket.

He is the last thing Martha ever expected to see; she was ready to believe in aliens. It’s just a baby .

Martha climbs down the crater, despite all of Jonathan’s protests. The circumstances are strange, but she knows in her heart and her soul that this child was meant for them.

“We could give him a good home.”

“You’re kidding me. We don’t know the first thing about raisin’ a child.” It’s been decades since they abandoned that dream. Jonathan’s got back pain thinking about it. (He knows he won’t resist the urge to pick up and toss that little boy in the air, catching him whenever he falls. His mind wants to be rational, but his mind’s made up.)

“Weren’t you the one who said it’d be as easy as pie?”

***

Martha Kent loves pie. 

Inside each one, she remembers her hopes, her dreams and most importantly, her great loves.

[philcscphies]

ELIZA ATTAR ( SHE/HER ) is a CIS WOMAN, FORTY-TWO year old OWNER OF INFUSION who has been living in Moorbrooke for TWO WEEKS. They were born on APRIL 5th and right now, they are currently residing in ELMSETT GREEN. It has been said that they look suspiciously like SARAH SHAHI and if they had to choose a song to describe themselves, they would choose BEAUTIFUL DREAMER by BING CROSBY. 

details: tw war, infertility

Eliza Attar was born in Tehran, Iran to a chemist and a journalist.

tw start At the age of three, the family migrated to San Diego, CA as the Cultural Revolution made it difficult for her parents to find safety and work. tw end

Life in San Diego was as quiet and unassuming as could be expected for an immigrant family. Eliza was still young and quickly assimilated into her new community, deftly learning English, and acting as translator for her parents.

She was a quiet, mostly calm child, but there were moments when her temper would flare, hot and fast.This became particularly apparent when her sister was born when Eliza was a young teen.

A bright student, she went on to follow in her mother’s footsteps by becoming a scientist, specifically a geneticist. She’d always found peace in the microscopic world of cells.

In her early twenties, Eliza married Santiago Peralta. In so many ways, he was a dream.

tw start Their marriage, though, was marked with fertility struggles. Try as they may, they simply couldn’t get pregnant. tw end

Needless to say, this spelled the beginning of the end for their marriage. Eliza found herself pulling away from the only man she’d ever loved. So, when the topic of divorce was introduced, it almost felt inevitable. Even though she still loved Santi and considered him to be her best friend, Eliza felt lost in their marriage.

Two weeks ago, she and her sister moved to Moorbrooke where they purchased Infusion. The two sisters are determined to put their own spin on the space.

So, at 42, Eliza is rediscovering and reclaiming herself.

potential connections:

sister

employees of infusion -- chef, wait staff, manager

friends

neighbors

one night stands (maybe even the potential here for a pregnancy scare)

any and everything tbqh

[bunnygirllover45]

— The shape of love. ﹑◌﹒WARNINGS﹕Kidnapping, implied punishment, ugly jealousy, some descriptions of body harm ( just wounds or bruises, and it doesn't get too graphic), lots, and lots of deranged ramblings, it gets very dark at times. This is narrated from the POV of the Yandere, you can read this as a 'letter' of sorts.

♱ ✧ ⤷ Word count: 997 (felt lazy and I didn't reach 1k lmao.)

There you go again, looking at me with the same eyes as always.

I don’t know how many times I’ve repeated moments like this inside my head since the last time. It's been a while since I've been this close to you.

The trembling of your body lets me know that your excitement is as big as mine, is your body perhaps unable to contain all those bubbling feelings?

I grab your legs, my hands softly pressing against the flesh, feeling it under mine —so soft and delicate, for a moment I thought that maybe if I pushed my fingers inside of it I could spread it like a cloud made of cotton— when I pressed I could fee the shape of your bones underneath just a little, the sensation made my own body tremble.

It’s a shame you’re still shy to my touch, even if it’s something simple like a small caress or a kiss on the cheek you’re always trying to push away from me, I would love if you to cling onto me more when I do it or have you begging silently to do something more. I know you wouldn’t tell me with words, you’re not good with them.

Now that I think about it, I’ve never heard you say my name since I brought you here, no?

I should tell you what it is now so you could say it between sighs and I could engrave the sound on the back of my brain forever — those sweet sounds could captivate me forever.

I wonder if you’d say my name with a kind voice, or you’ll just talk to me with the same indifference and fear that’s so characteristic of you. I do admit that is kind of endearing, wild animals were always more interesting than domesticated ones thanks to their hostility, it makes me want to approach them, stick my hand, and see if they’ll bite me, or would just run away and hide in a corner.

I wouldn’t mind if you bit me, I would love to bite you as well in fact, I would wear that mark proudly and I would make sure you do it as well, we could bite our fingers and pretend the marks are our wedding rings, a testament of our love engraved on our skin.

Hahaha — I’m rambling again, please don’t get nervous, you know I usually get lost in my thoughts when I’m here with you, especially when my hands are idly dragging across your skin  — nails and all — leaving red marks behind.

I’m just tracing small invisible circles on your skin and you’re already getting goosebumps, I think that when I touch you delicately like this is when you fear it the most, right? I’m always keeping the momentum, you’ll never know when I can dig my nails into your skin or grab you and never let go.

I press a simple kiss on the skin of your heel, dragging my lips across the length of your leg, what a celestial feeling, there’s nothing in this world that could compare to this mere sensation. You’re trembling again, that makes me smile.

Sometimes when night falls and there are no more thoughts left to think inside my head my mind begins to wander off the path, usually it doesn’t lead me anywhere in particular, but since some time ago I’ve had this constant thought; there are other  —people— that had touched you like this before?

I would like to think that I’m the only one who had the privilege to enjoy all of you, that no other mark of fingers or teeth that doesn’t have the shape of mine has been on your skin.

Thinking like that makes sleeping easier for me.

I’m thankful that right now you can’t speak to me, because if I made you that question and you responded to me that yes, other people had marked you like I did, I think I would had the impulse to tear apart each part of you that has been tainted by them.

Not because I hate you, on the contrary, I just think I couldn’t live with the idea. That you belonged to someone else even if it was just for a moment, what am I saying? I don’t even like the idea of you belonging to yourself.

But if I were to do that, I think I’d like to go to extremes no other people could; kiss your open wounds or taste your blood, that would be romantic, don’t you think?

I press my face against your thighs while I keep dragging my nails up and down your legs, I sigh again, tilting my head slightly to take a better look at you, I can see myself reflected in your own eyes now, how romantic, just like in the movies you like to watch.

I like the me I see in your eyes, I like the idea that it belongs to you alone, the idea of you keeping each small expression I make just for you, each blink would be like a small photograph you take of me and keep inside your head, aaaalll yours.

My mother used to tell me that love is only true if you can see it reflected in the one you love,

From your red cheeks — was I too rough last night?

Your bruised knees — If you would just learn how to sit properly at the table already, it would make our meals more easy.

Your beautiful hands — You should stop trying to take off your handcuffs.

Your shining eyes — Is that a small tear I see? Maybe I should reach it and lick it, I wouldn’t like to go to waste.

Yes, I think for the first time something she said made sense, now that I took a better look at you, I don’t think there’s any better proof of this —

You’re the truest, most beautiful form of ‘love’.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

get some on my love

QZ!Joel Miller x f!reader

my masterlist | joel fic recs

This is for @justagalwhowrites' Birthday Celebration for Joel. I picked the prompts for QZ!Joel and breeding kink. It, uh. It got away with me. Title from "Gasoline" by Seether because that's what made this get so feral. Please read the warnings.

dedicated to @covetyou bcus it's your tumblrversary bb! and also because of SWAT, the ultimate slutty qz joel fic that lives in my head and pays rent

words: 1.6k

summary: You visit Joel Miller to get what you need.

warnings: dub-con, dubcon due to sex in exchange for drugs, and he kind of springs the breeding kink on her (but there's not a risk), abuse of prescription medications, QZ!Joel Miller, dealer!Joel Miller, smuggler!Joel Miller, filthy!Joel Miller, breeding kink, creampie, menstrual sex, inappropriate uses of period blood, spitting, pussy pronouns (she/her), vulgar language, god i don't even know it's just nasty and they like it, kind of hate fucking, no y/n, no betas no proofreading no nothing lol

dividers by @saradika-graphics

also on ao3

“Well, well. Look who’s come crawlin’ back,” Joel drawls when he opens the door. 

You scowl. “You gonna let me in or not?”

He leans against the frame, a lazy smirk curling. “Gee, I don’t know. You had some mighty strong things to say ‘bout me last time.” He does step back, though, ushering you in. 

“Pretty sure you said you were never gonna look at my ugly mug again,” he adds as he shuts the door behind you. 

“Yeah, well,” you mutter. 

He tips your chin up with two fingers. “Yeah, well,” he mocks. “Well, what? No one else want that sloppy pussy as payment?”

“You like my pussy, jackass,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Yeah, I do,” he says, cornering you against the door, your back hitting it with a thump. He leers, leaning in. “You know why it’s so sloppy? ‘Cause I fuckin’ ruined it, and you loved it.”

You scowl again, turning your head sharply to the side so you don’t have to look at his smug smirk. The worst part is how right he is. 

“Look,” you mutter, heat rising to your cheeks, “I-I can’t pay today. But I need them, bad. I’ll… I’ll make it up to you.”

It nearly kills you to say. The only thing worse than dealing with Joel Miller is owing Joel Miller. 

“Whaddya mean you can’t pay today? Cunt closed for construction or somethin’?”

You shove him away roughly, ducking out of his grasp to stalk into the living room. “No, dumbass, I’m… bleedin’, you know.”

His responding grin is feral and full of teeth. “I don’t give a shit. Go bend over the bathroom sink.”

“Are you fuckin' serious?”

“You want the fuckin’ pills or not?”

You could scream. Of course you do. There’s not a part of your body that doesn’t hurt. It’s settled into every joint and crevice, an ache you can’t stretch out or shake loose. 

You’d know. You’ve tried. But you’re losing sleep, and the pain makes you too nauseous to eat. His drugs will only take the edge off for so long, but god, you’d do nearly anything for a few hours’ respite. 

“Fine,” you whisper finally, and make your way to the apartment’s tiny three-piece. 

He follows, watching you with amusement. “Strip,” he says. 

You glare, and he shrugs. 

“Or don’t. But I ain’t responsible for what happens to your clothes.”

Oh, fuck him. Fuck him. But you strip—all the way, even though you could have left your top on, but because mother nature has you on her shit list, your usual pain is compounded when you’re menstruating. And when you’re ovulating. Really, so many women don’t even have a fucking cycle anymore from all the stress and malnutrition, but noooo, you were cursed with a fertile fucking uterus. 

The point was that your titties were sore and aching, and the thought of his warm hands groping and pawing at them sounded nice, so off goes your shirt.

He chuckles when he enters the bathroom. “Well, look at that. Eager?”

“Hurry up,” you snap. “It’s cold, and there’s gonna be a mess.”

“Gonna be a mess either way,” he taunts, his hands rough against your hips.

And ain’t that the kicker? There’s gonna be a mess. Your cunt is already sore, and he’s gonna leave a trail of destruction in his wake. 

“Don’t look so grossed out, sugar,” he says, cupping your breasts and looking at you in the mirror. “It’s all natural. Plus, I gotta say, it’s been a long time since I got to do this.”

You’re busy meeting his eyes in the mirror and pulling a face, not catching his last words. He rolls and pinches at your tender nipples, but it’s the kind of pain that sits on the right side of pleasure. As expected, his meaty hands grope unmercifully at your breasts, and you moan in relief at the free massage.

“That’s it. That’s what I like to hear. You ready for me, huh? That greedy pussy o’ yours ready?”

“Uh-huh,” you say distractedly. “Wait—”

“I didn’t forget,” he murmurs in your ear. “Open.”

You open your mouth obediently, sticking your tongue out. He sets a round, white pill on it and turns your head with a firm grip on your chin, his spit landing right on the pill.

You swallow and avert your eyes as he watches your reflection.

“Get on with it,” you rasp.

One hand wanders down between your thighs and strokes through the folds, working you open with two thick fingers scissoring side to side. He doesn’t spend long there, dragging them up to rub at your clit for a moment.

“Make some fuckin’ noise; I can’t tell if you’re wet or not with all this goin’ on,” he grumbles, withdrawing his hand and showing you the slick blood coating it.

You wince, and he laughs. “Y’ain’t scared of your own period, are ya?”

“Fuck off, ‘course I’m not. Doesn’t mean I wanna look at it.”

He grins. The expression is always unnatural on him and usually heralds something vulgar.

You’re not wrong. He brings his hand up to cup your breast, leaving a smear of blood on your tit. 

“Somethin’ kinda hot about it, don’tcha think?” he muses.

“If you say so,” you mutter, but you can’t look away. It’s striking, blood against your skin that isn’t borne of violence.

The thick tip of his cock interrupts your thoughts as he pushes down on your shoulder. You bend, gripping the sides of the vanity as he buries himself inside with one slow thrust.

He groans, gripping hard on your shoulder. “S’better than lube.”

“You’re so gross,” you say, shaking your head.

“Yeah? Then why’re you clenchin’ around me like a goddamn vice, huh?”

“You always talk this much when you fuck, or am I special?”

“Oh, sugar, don’t flatter yourself,” he says with a slap on your ass. “Y’ain’t special.”

“You—ahh—you hate-fuck all your customers?”

He snorts. “You ain’t even special enough to hate, honey. And you can hate me all you like, but we both know you’re gonna keep comin’ back.”

As you scowl up at him in the mirror, you almost wish looks could kill. But he’s right. He’d be no good to you dead because no other dealer in this godforsaken QZ will dose you in exchange for sex.

As it is, he only lets you once a week. You need more than that? Gotta pay like everyone else. Even when you can afford it, you find yourself back here or on your knees or however he wants you every fuckin’ Friday, because a free pill is a free pill. It’s 3-4 hours you can nap without nearly killin’ yourself to afford it.

Today’s pill hasn’t begun to set in yet, but that’s the other thing about Joel. He’s good at making you forget.

Real good.

His hands are on your body, roughly gentle. He’s not careful with his touch, but not careless, either. He wants you to come, wants you to shake and fall apart on his dick, so he can flash you that little self-satisfied smirk borne of bravado he’s rightly earned. 

And you do. You come for him, with his hands on your breasts and your clit. You tremble and moan and your pussy tries to stake a claim on his cock, clenching and hoping to never let go. But it will, and you will. In the end, you always let go.

He’s a different kind of beast tonight. Panting and grunting in your ear, teeth on your neck, sweat dripping and blending with yours. After he’s rung pleasure from you, he settles one hand on your hip and another on your shoulder and ruts into you like a jackhammer. Like he can’t get deep enough, can’t stop until he’s carved a spot for him within you.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he mutters, pushing you down further. “Fuuuck, darlin’, you want this, huh? You want me to fill you up?”

“Wh-what?” you gasp, air knocked from you with each punch of his cock against your cervix.

“Gonna fill you up good, gonna—nnng— gonna make it stick.”

You reach back and smack him. “The fuck are you—” 

But he doesn’t let you finish. He holds on tight and grinds his dick deep. “That greedy pussy, sugar, she fuckin’ wants it. Oh fuck, I-I’m gonna fuck this pretty little pussy ‘till she’s full o’ me. And you’re gonna take it, right?”

You whimper, holding tight to the sink while he loses his fucking mind or whatever is happening. You don’t know. It feels too good to question.

“Thas’ it,” he rambles. “Gonna look so good, stuffed up, and ev’ryone—everyone—will know you let me fuckin’ breed you.”

Oh god. It shouldn’t be hot. Those words should be stopping your heart, you should be pushing him away, but your dumb cunt has a mind of its own and holds tight to him, each thrust of his cock squelching as you come around him again. 

“Jesus, baby, it’s been too long, too long since I got to fill up a cunt like yours,” he groans, hips stuttering, “oh shit, take it—fuckin’ take it.”

His cock pulses inside you, and you think maybe you die and go to heaven for a little bit—just a little, because when you open your eyes, you’re still in Joel’s grimy bathroom—but there’s a sweet moment where you think he’s right. It’s been too long. Far too long since a man’s come undone inside you, let you feel that hot burst and twitching, it’s divine, it’s—well, it’s making you come again. 

When he pulls out, you stumble right to the toilet, glaring at him as you try to clean up the mess before it happens. “Gross,” you grumble.

When you look up, the way he’s looking at you makes somethin’ awful churn inside, and it’s not just the apparent buckets of cum he filled you with. 

The silence between you is thick. Finally, he jerks his head to the shower. “Get cleaned up ‘n get out,” is all he says, and the door clicks shut in his wake. 

[clementinegreye]

the sweetest sin of all

aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader ||

summary: in the midst of investigating a serial killer who chooses victims based on the seven deadly sins, aaron hotchner finds himself entangled in more than just the case (inspired by hozier's new song 'too sweet'):

word count: 3.4k

warnings: heavy tension, hurt comfort, crossing professional boundaries and general talks of CM violence and murder (nothing graphic):

a/n: hi! i wrote this entire thing for a friend, but maybe you might enjoy it too! this is my first piece of writing on this new blog so if you like feel free to like, reblog or even just let me know! and hopefully if it goes well there'll be more soon!

a/n update: it went well, here's part two!)

From the dim lighting of the office it was almost impossible to tell the exact lateness of the night. His watch consistently ticking, remained a steady rhythm. He ran a hand across his face, his tie undone and lying, long discarded on his desk. The first few buttons of his shirt undone, unbuttoned and an almost vulnerable step away from his usual armour. Papers containing violence were spread haphazardly and with chaos across his desk. A nearly forgotten glass of strong neat whiskey sat in place of his usual bitter coffee.

His team had been on the case for nearly a week, and Hotch felt they were no closer to catching the Unsub. The whole team was feeling the pressure. The profile told him they were dealing with a moral enforcer, a highly organised, violent offender with a clear mission. It should have been easy for them but bodies seemed to be continuously appearing and everyone was feeling uneasy and frustrated.

He was drowning in the details of this case, the Unsub's pattern ever-present in his mind. He thought of the remaining sins - envy, wrath, and lust - and something burned deep within his chest. It was a dangerous game they played, one where the stakes were higher than any case he'd ever worked on.

Being head of the team he felt the responsibility more vehemently than the rest, and he was doing something he’d promised the team he wouldn’t. He was letting it get to him.

There’d been four victims so far, each killed to match one of the seven deadly sins. So far his victims had been; gluttony - an overzealous upscale restaurant critic who binged food that he slated publicly, greed - a high-profile stock broker with the inability to control his obsession with obtaining more of his client's money, sloth - a wealthy trust fund baby who squandered their university scholarship out of laziness and pride - a wealthy woman with a shopping addiction who frequented beauty salons and had an intense social media presence flaunting herself.

Each victim came from a different geographical area of the city and Garcia hadn’t been able to uncover any crossover between their lives where it might have been somewhere they could have met the Unsub. There were no leads and the team felt at a loss. 

Knowing the Unsub was three victims away from the end of his mission, Hotch knew they were close to losing him if they didn’t catch a break soon. He’d sent the team home to get some sleep and told them to be ready bright and early the next day. Yet Hotch couldn't bring himself to leave the office, hoping the crime scene photos might uncover something he'd missed. He thought everyone had listened to his orders until he was drawn away from the graphic images in front of him by a gentle knock at the door.

"Come in." He croaked harshly, the hours of not speaking catching up to his vocal chords.

It was her. Of course, it was her.

She always had a way of pulling him from the edge, of grounding him when the world became too much. In the chaos and uncertainty of their work, she was his constant, his unwavering beacon of light. She was his solace, his calm in the storm, and in that moment, he allowed himself to get lost in her.

She was like honey, dripping out and pooling where flies could get stuck on the intoxication and drown. He could feel it, the danger she could be. If he’d been a man less controlled he could see how she could be his every downfall and triumph. In her, he saw a reflection of all his desires and fears. She was every strength and weakness. In the moment, he couldn't help but want to drown in the intoxicating allure of her, his deadly and dangerous, yet irresistibly sweet sin.

‘I’m heading home for the night…’ Her voice trailed off in a quiet hush to match the silence of the office. 

The creases in his forehead from pouring over crime scenes and endless theories seemed to smooth out. He breathed out hours' worth of tension in a single breath, allowing the corners of his mouth to turn upwards so quickly that unless she’d been a profiler paying attention she might not have noticed. The way his body language shifted was subtle enough to the untrained eye, but not to her. He couldn’t conceal himself in his controlled, cold-edged front as well as he usually could when she was around.

"I gave those orders hours ago." He mused, leaning back in his chair, the breath of a sigh dying on his lips.

She gently shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her. "I thought you might be used to me defying your orders by now, Hotch. You should take your own advice, didn’t you promise to stop working so late," she replied, a glint in her eyes that held an irresistible challenge. Their playful banter was a welcome change from the dark seriousness that he’d been so consumed by moments ago.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief waiting for his retort.

"I didn’t promise anything." He huffed.

She didn’t wait for an invitation, she didn’t need to. Crossing the threshold of his office and making her way to the imposing desk of the Unit Chief.

She’d not seen her boss look so troubled by a case in a long time. Her gaze was drawn to him as his elbows leaned against the desk, his usually impeccable suit dishevelled. She noted the way the top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a hint of the man beneath the stoic FBI Unit Chief. It was a stark contrast to the man who was always put together, always in control. Yet, in that moment, he looked anything but. Not yet unravelled, but on the edge of it.

She moved further into the office, she was not someone who second-guessed her decisions. She walked with confidence, and perched herself on the edge of his desk, letting her legs dangle over the edge her black work trousers tight across her thighs. She rested her hand on the desk, dangerously close to her Hotch’s, mere centimetres.

His gaze shifted from the papers in front of him and followed the contours of her face, lingering a moment too long on her lips. He swallowed hard, his mind flickering with thoughts he'd held at bay for far too long. But he was Unit Chief, and professionalism might as well have been his middle name. He lightly shook his head, feeling the back of his eyes burn from the focus he’d had all day.

Hotch wasn’t one to open up, he was always controlled but around her, there was a tug at the stitches of his personality.

‘I have a bad feeling about this case.’ He hummed, the night breeze catching against the window. He could smell her perfume, mixing with the scent of burnt coffee and paper. He dare not think about it too long.

He reached across his desk and grabbed his near-forgotten whiskey, downing it in one drag. He bent towards where her legs were hanging over his desk, motioning for her to lift them. She drew them up towards her chest and he opened the drawer beneath her pulling an expensive-looking bottle from it and refilling the glass, this time handing it to her. Their fingers grazed slightly with the exchange. His warm, hers icy cold - meeting to form the perfect temperature.

‘We have no leads. I always trust the profile, but this case… We’ve got nothing.’ His eyes watched her as she swirled the liquid around the glass, her eyes watching it splash against the sides. He sighed in defeat, rubbing his eyes with both of his hands before leaning his head back, a deep exhale exiting his thin lips.

‘We’ll get him.’ She said confidently, something shifted in her tone. It was like a dagger's sharp edge, certainty dripping off it like blood. He almost believed her, but she could see the already dim light dissipating from his dark eyes. She felt sympathy pooling in the tips of her fingers. If she didn’t hadn’t been holding their shared glass she might have reached out and touched him so that it could bleed from her into him, so that he would feel less alone.

She leaned back slightly, her eyes searching his. It was unclear what she was searching for in them. He couldn’t read her entirely, even with all his years of profiling. When she smiled, he felt his heart catch in his throat. It was like looking directly at the sun. Burning and bright hot.

‘You should follow your own orders… And for once so should I. Go home. Get some rest.’ She downed the liquid with a swift tip of her head. Hotch watched the curve of her neck as she moved and the way she licked her lips catching a fallen drop of liquor. She laid the glass down on the desk, allowing her hand to brush over his. His skin crackled with electricity.

She moved with grace as she climbed down from his desk. That one moment shared more intimate than she’d expected it to feel, with their proximity, the lateness of the hour and the unusually undone Aaron sitting at his desk.

His eyes followed her every movement, skin stinging as if he’d been burned. She was halfway to the door before he heard himself call out to her. It almost didn’t sound like his own voice.

‘Wait. Don’t go yet. Come here.’ His voice was firm like it always was, but there was a depth to it that she hadn’t heard before. One she’d always longed for. His eyes glinted with dark hues as he watched her turn from the door. He almost breathed out in relief.

She had an unreadable expression. One that set the blood in his veins on fire. She lowered her head, and with it, her eyes darkened. He stood from his desk, making his way over to her with steps that felt dreamlike. Their eyes met with an energy never shared before and once in front of her he reached out, gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear so that he had an unobscured view of her whole face. The same face that had the power to completely undo him.

Her eyes widened slightly as if surprised by his gentle touch, but at the same time, there was a knowing in them as if she’d been waiting for it all along. She remained still, and his heart pounded in his chest as he looked into his eyes, an unspoken conversation passing between them. It felt like any words would have made the moment less intimate.

His hand lingered against her cheek, the warmth radiating from his touch was a stark contrast to the cold, sterile environment of his office. Her skin felt like it was burning under him. The silence between them was palpable, filled with the yet unspoken words and emotions that threatened to bubble to the surface. Hotch, usually so controlled in his feelings suddenly felt so unsteady. His heart beat suspiciously with the feeling that perhaps he’d crossed a line.

‘How do you know?’ He whispered, eyes scanning hers as if he were a detective trying to uncover the evidence that gave her certainty. In the light of the office, she looked like she’d been hand carved, art that he’d been lucky enough to be in the presence of. He traced his thumb over her lips, eyes heavy with a mixture of desire and something else she couldn't quite place. It was a dangerous gesture, one that could endanger his whole career.

'I trust you, and that’s all I need to know that we’ll get him.' she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes glazed with a devotion that almost made him groan. The conviction of her words pierced his wavering confidence. He’d gone from feeling almost hopeless to buzzing with determination.

He let his hand fall away from her face, but the warmth lingered, an almost promise that what she’d been sure she’d felt moments ago had indeed been real. Reality swarmed his brain, aware of the situation he’d almost found himself in. He straightened up, posture contrasting his relatively dishevelled exterior.

"You’re right, you should follow my orders. Go home, get some rest. I told the team we’d start fresh in the morning," he instructed, a softness in his voice that was rarely displayed. But she didn’t move, and he didn’t either.

He watched her eyes for any sign of discomfort, the tension in the room was palpable, an electrifying current that Hotch didn’t dare to break. Silence blanketed them, only broken by the ticking of his watch. It was a solitary reminder of the passing time, yet the urgency of their case had fallen to the back of his mind.

‘Close the door.’ She instructed, using the same authority that Hotch usually spoke with. The change in dynamic almost made him falter, but with a small smirk, he moved towards the door. He’d been aware of the power imbalance he held in his position but with the tone of her voice, there was a subtle shift in the air between them. She moved back towards his desk with certainty. Moving his name tag so she could perch to face the dark space of the office.

Their eyes met across the room. She tilted her head to the side, examining his body language. As he locked the door behind him, the air seemed to constrict around them, the room becoming a world of its own where only they existed. The only sound in the room was the soft click of the lock and their breathing. It echoed throughout the office, bouncing off the walls and settling into their bones. The tension escalated, but it was different now, charged with an anticipation that neither of them could ignore.

He might have been unit chief, but right here, right now, she was in charge. The line between professional and personal blurred dangerously as their eyes locked, a promise of something more hanging in the balance. The air was charged now, they were poised, daring each other to make the first move. They both knew that they were on the precipice of something dangerous, something that could have dire consequences professionally.

Yet, the pull was too strong to ignore, and for the first time, Hotch allowed himself to teeter on the edge, his resolve tested by the powerful undercurrent of desire that crackled between them. Tonight, they were not just colleagues, they were two individuals drawn together by an irresistible force. In the room, the undeniable chemistry that had been simmering under the surface for far too long had nowhere to hide.

On the desk, she rested each hand palm down to the side of her thighs and opened her legs wider to create space for his body to fit. She moved her head in a motion for him to step forward. Hotch couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, pupils were blown wide from more than just the darkness of the room. How long had he craved something so forbidden, how long had he denied himself the idea that this could ever happen?

As he moved closer to her, he couldn't help but think about the deadly sin of lust, a strong passion or longing that was deemed sinful. Here he was, teetering on the edge of crossing professional boundaries, something he’d never done. The balance of energy in the room was no longer solely from the stress of the case, it was about them - about her. He could have tried to argue that it was, but no jury in the state would believe him. If this were a trial, he was about to be found guilty.

The Unsub's deadly pattern echoed in his mind - the three sins he’d yet to kill for; envy, jealousy over another's life or possessions, wrath, a violent anger driven by hatred, and finally, lust, a powerful desire that can become all-consuming, much like the craving he was experiencing in that very moment. Looking upon her he felt envious of anyone who had ever been allowed to touch her, he felt wrath for anyone who had ever wronged or hurt her, and most of all he felt lust. He definitely felt lust, his desire for her taking over all his senses.

Was he caught between duty and desire? No, he had no doubt in his mind. The sheer intensity of her shared gaze and the way she was beckoning him forward smashed the boundaries of their relationship. He’d never seen her in this light, never dared to allow himself to think of her like this. But now she was in front of him how could he ever deny himself something so sweet?

Hotch had always been a man of control, a man who kept his emotions in check. But in this room, with the charged atmosphere heavy between them, he felt his resolve wavering. He was caught in the powerful current of the desire for her that he’d managed to keep at bay. He didn’t want to be in control anymore. 

He closed the distance between them, fitting himself between her legs, his hands landing on her hips as he looked down at her, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She brought one hand off the desk to hold the waistband of his suit trousers, tugging lightly.

“Are you finally going to kiss me, Agent Hotchner?” She asked, voice dripping with honey. Sweetness laced with danger that hit him right in the chest like a bullet.

She was an intoxicating mix of all seven, a deadly sin in her own right. She was his lust, his unending desire. She was his gluttony, the one he wanted to consume endlessly. She was his greed, the one he wanted all for himself. She was his sloth, his reason for inertia. She was his wrath, the one who could ignite a fire in him like no other. She was his envy, the one he admired and coveted. And she was his pride, the one who made him feel like he was on top of the world.

‘You will be the ruin of me.’ He breathed, his eyes almost black. He looked down at her taking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and the way her eyes sparkled with a mixture of mischief and satisfaction. He was entirely wrapped around her finger. Tonight, he decided, he would willingly drown in this sweet sin, consequences be damned.

‘That is entirely my intention.’ She chuckled and he groaned, a guttural sound that felt foreign to him.

"Only if you promise not to tell the team," he murmured, a playful undertone to his voice.

As he leaned down to capture her lips with his, he knew without a doubt that this was a deadly sin he was willing to commit. It was both sweet and intense, a perfect reflection of their now complicated relationship.

Her lips tasted of the whiskey they'd shared, sweet with a hint of burn that left him wanting more. She tasted like a curse, sickeningly sweet as if to cause him decay. He deepened the kiss, pulling her impossibly closer. He was standing on the cliff of the unknown, and he was more than willing to jump and fall headfirst.

As he pulled away, he couldn't help but study her face. He’d come face to face with endless serial killers, and been in the presence of pure evil. But he’d never been so close to something so dangerous. She was a temptation he couldn't resist. Sweeter than any apple in the Garden of Eden. He traced the contours of her face with his fingers, his gaze never leaving hers.

He could still taste her on the back of his tongue, sugar and shared whiskey burning. He’d never been so certain that he’d been willing to trade his control for the intoxicating sweetness that was her. She was a forbidden fruit that was too alluring to resist, and Aaron Hotchner had no more resistance left in him. Not now he’d tasted something so delicious.

After all, wasn't life about balancing the deadly sins and virtues? Tonight, he chose to sin.

(you can now read part two here!)

[battydora]

"DISOBEY"

masterlist | rules

CHARACTERS: hantengu clones, demon reader

CONTENT: nsfw, dubcon, noncon, minors dni!!, gn reader (afab), reader is upper 1, reader forces the clones apart and makes them sumbit to their pleasure, power dynamics, strong dominant/submissive dynamics, power abuse, threats, sexual frustration, graphic descriptions of blood and mutilation, fivesome, angry sex, stress relief sex, cunnilingus, breast play, bruises, hate sex, small plot, slight vouyerism, restrictions, teasing, praise/praise kink (a tiny bit), reader's a demon whose emotions are intense and usually overwhelming (specially anger), so any intense and/or positive emotions can counter the effects negative emotions have on them, sexual stimulation being the example today, reader is referred as "they", "ma'am", "mistress" & "my/our lady", barely proof read

A/N: hey demon slayer fandom how we feelin bout s3......... you know the drill, these fuckers are hot and i'm here to please the disgusting person i am. MINORS DNI!! I'M SERIOUS, I WILL BLOCK YOU.

DISCLAIMER: this is a dubcon/noncon fanfiction (the first one I ever made), please take in consideration I'm against non-consensual practices and I DO NOT promote them by any matters, I'm choosing this gender merely for the fact that hantengu such as the reader are demons and as we know so far, demons' interactions with eachother are ruthful and cruel, senseless in average human intercourse since they feel and act differently the way humans do, I could've done this any other way but I chose to stick to kimetsu no yaiba's logic. self-contradictory but just stick around with reader being upper one and gyutaro still being the sixth, i was lazy to make it sense.

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

it certainly was shocking news for the upper moons to find out the sixth was slayed by the demon slayer corps. otherwise there wouldn't be any other logical reason for the demon king to summon all of the, remaining, upper moons, in the infinity castle. including yourself, upper one.

akaza was asking about you but he didn't know you were already there, listening to all the rambling he and the rest of the upper moons were having seconds ago. however, you voice didn't make an appearance until the biwa lady made clear you were present from the very first second, akaza's eyes widening with awe and concern. gyokko remained in place silent and hantengu whimpering terrified at your mere presence, like he usually did. kokushibo looked up, you were in a building nearby, your demonic figure sitting upside down on the ceiling, your hands sitting modishly on top of eachother, waiting patienly for your king.

"i arrived way before any of you did."

"oh (y/n)-sama, you've been here all the time... aren't you pleased to find yourself meeting with me after so many years? ah, you're stunning today, i bet you've becoming much stronger these past decades." douma's carefree voice reached everyone's ears, touching a nerve inside akaza, his bad mood being worsened by the women eater demon.

"douma" your mysterious and harassing voice called upper 3's name, sending a raw shiver down the latter's back, gyokko and hantengu trembled at your mere voice, which sounded horrifying "give up your brattish behaviour" your shiny and dangerous eyes glare at him across the castle, threatening "know your place." another quivering and breathtaking shiver hitting his senses cruely.

you weren't entirely in the mood to deal with these bastards, you always found yourself hating each one of your demon associates, an inmense desire of finishing each and every one of them was what kept your mind daydreaming about, the mere idea was something that made your body tremble with excitement and unwanted sexual arousal but it was always an impediment to know that you had muzan kibutsuji's evil eyes fixed on your back and that he could make you dissapear within a blink if you did anything against his experiments. so you remained in line, interacting with them whenever you had to.

the meeting was as shitty as you were expecting, muzan scolded every single one of you and left you more angered than you would've wanted, this anger that kept building inside of you made your body tense, your eyebrows were frowning as your body temperature continued to raise in anger. once muzan leaves, you look around the room, your eyes landing on hantengu, the poor demon was trembling in a corner, he felt your harassing gaze towards him and looked at you, who was suddenly standing infront of him. your black hand reached his clothes and he cried out the moment you picked him up. "you're coming with me, you have a task to complete before fulfilling the king's desires."

and out of the blue, your figures dissapeared from the castle. you had taken the small demon to the forest, no one around, only a river running a few meters from you. hantengu was crying and mumbling nonsense, fearing at the look in your face that was... certainly frightening, your eyebrows frowning, your eyes wide open, your teeth clenching in pure fury and drops of saliva falling off your lips. your hands held his body and your sharp nails digged into the head and body of the old looking demon, blood spreading on your fingers as you pulled both ends to behead upper 5, tearing his skin apart and violently ripping his head off. he grunted and yelled in pain, his body splitting apart entirely to your inhumane strength as a pool of blood spread on the ground beneath you. you let his head and body fall to the floor as you watched each part regenerate into two separate demons: sekido and karaku. you walk to sekido who was staring at you entirely upset at your behaviour, you gripped his clothes and pulled him towards you returning the same angered expression.

"how are you allowed to do this, upper one?" you raised both of your brows to his words, furious at his statement.

"you are not in position to scold me, do not." you stated before gripping his hair and fiercely rip off his head, letting his other clones show up: aizetsu and urogi.

"how come i never seen our upper one this upset? this is kind of exciting" karaku spoke this time, standing up from the ground and walking towards you "have anything special in store for us tonight, mistress?~" his voice was charming and intrigued, a wide grin taking over his face as he licked his upper lip, showing the black kanji tattooed on his tongue.

"it saddens me to be the ones to deal with (y/n)-sama's anger... hantengu ran away to hide in the woods already..." aizetsu joins the conversation, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

"how can you be sad about this? sekido is being scolded by our lady" urogi chuckled out a laugh but their focus returned to you once again, you seemed upset.

"everything just makes me so angry... the demon slayers, douma, akaza, all of the upper moons... our demon lord... you all just find a way to GET ON MY FUCKING NERVES!" you began to rant, your body itching at the intense frustration and fury growing inside of you each second, you fell to your knees consumed by rage, teeth clenching hard enough to seem like they were about to shatter "please me, hantengu, make your stupid blood demon art useful and cease these intense emotions inside me" further on, you started undressing, your hands helping you body to get rid of the kimono that was denying your skin the ecstasy of being naked. all the clones looked closely, frozen in their places.

once all your clothes were scattered on the floor, you lifted your gaze to meet theirs, you were infuriated, they could tell. so the first one to react to your angered gaze was aizetsu, as a natural reaction towards threat and probably for being used to sekido's mistreatment towards him, whose anger paired yours in that moment. the sorrow demon let his spear fall to the ground and walked carefully towards you, afraid of disobedience. he knelt infront of your exposed figure and kissed your lips, cupping your cheeks while doing so. the kiss was well welcomed, you kissed the blue demon fervishly and hungrily.

then karaku followed, sitting beside you and hugging your torso, pulling you closer to kiss your neck with intensity. you opened your eyes in middle of the kissing and stared at sekido and urogi, who were standing there, urogi looking at the other two clones get their way with your body, a senseless excitement hitting his body at the view, making his wings quiver. and as for sekido, he was clenching his fists, his jaw almost hurting out of fury, how dared you use his clones to please yourself? were they some kind of toy to you?

you frowned at them, your left hand made its way to aizetsu's crotch, squeezing his clothed cock which lead him to break the kiss to let out a soft whimper, breathing heavily and closing his eyes. your right hand did the same to karaku's, making him grunt into your neck.

"m-my lady..." "oh, that's...oh~" their voices cried out holding onto your body as you massaged the areas for a little while. aizetsu mumbled nonsense into your left ear, pressing his body against your own seeking closeness and karaku making sure to do the same on your right side moaning softly, licking and biting your earlobe, both of them entirely poisoned by your touch.

"why are you just standing there? i gave you an order" you demanded once again, it infuriated you to see sekido so so upset with you, your body filled with rage and excitement hoping your provocations were enough for them to fucking move. urogi gulped, hesitant, before walking towards the three of you, placing himself behind you, arms wrapping your torso and animal-like hands cupping both of your breasts, squeezing and massaging lively, stealing a grunt from you instantly.

sekido's mouth was half open, astonished at the view of you having complete control of each one of them. the grip on his weapon tightened, unsure of what to do now, he wished he could fight you but he knew quite well you would destroy him within a second, he just wishes to... agh! he just wished you would just vanish, you arrogant piece of-!

"sekido" his raging thoughts about you were cut off when you called his name, your tone of voice switched instantly, it was deep and threatening, you could just let him stand there and take a great look at what you were doing to his counterparts but you wished to have him doing something so much better, you wanted him, you wanted him to pleasure you, to watch his face clench into annoyance and anger because of you. your hands made their way to aizetsu's hips and moved him aside, letting him sit beside you so you could open your legs widely, karaku and aizetsu couldn't help but stare down at your soaked cunt, its scent captivated the three demons around you and karaku's such as aizetsu's hand tried to reach it to please you in their own ways but your own stopped them, with a serious expression and your eyes never meeting theirs, the latter only fixated on sekido.

"no, let sekido take care of that, maybe it'll hit some sense into him before he ever thinks of disobeying me again."

the three of them looked at him and was aizetsu the one to speak, for someone who was often saddened everytime sekido spoke and scolded him, this was impressive and sort of satisfying "sekido please... you know what they can do..."

clearly upset, your statement made the anger demon throw his weapon to his side with rage a few seconds later.

he walked to you, aizetsu and karaku doing you the favor of holding your legs wide open for you, the red eyed knelt infront of your body, taking a good look at your wet cunt, pausing for a moment as he contemplated you. he looked up again, his eyes meeting yours, unsure of what to do next.

"put that blabbering mouth of yours to good use" you commanded, your bright eyes staring directly into his before he got his body to fully lay on the ground, face inches away from your slit, he purposefully digged his nails into the skin of your thighs, tiny drops of blood painting his fingers.

"yes, ma'am" every drop of anger was poured into that "ma'am" of his as he broke the distance between his lips and yours, his tattooed tongue licked from the bottom to the top in a slow motion, sending a shiver through your abdomen, you moaned out loud and grinned the second his tongue landed on your clit.

you felt urogi's cock twitch against your back, you threw your head back to land on his shoulder, looking at his yellow eyes with a serious gaze. "are you hard already, urogi?" at your words, the joy demon gulped and nodded "yes, my lady..." his voice is sweet and a bit shy, you smirked at his response and tilted your head.

"should your upper one do something to fix that?" the seduction on your voice did not help urogi to keep his composure at all "please... please do" his pleading voice was music to your ears, it almost made you feel sorry for him, you only chuckle before giving a response.

"i'll treat you if you continue touching me. does that sound fair?~" excitement quickly filled his orange eyes "yes, my lady" as his hands continued to massage your chest and his mouth reached the back of your neck, biting and sucking passionately. karaku and aizetsu exchanged glares interested in your words, would they get a treat too if they please you? they couldn't take chances so they continued to kiss and squeeze your body, arousal growing bigger inside them each second more.

it was karaku who, holding your right leg open, started grinding against you, slight pants leaving his mouth as he was trying to satisfy himself somehow, the whole situation got him excited and needy for some touch, he almost couldn't hold himself back. you noticed his motion right ahead and stopped him. "you're not allowed to do that, karaku" his eyes widened and he gulped "but mistress..." he pleads but takes his words back the second you glare at him, intimidating "how... how can i earn my release, mistress?"

you chuckle at his question, an evil grin showing up.

"huh? earn it? that's the deal, karaku, you don't- hah~" a broken moan escapes your lips, sekido's tongue made sure to hit your sweet spot just in time "oh sekido, you're hitting it just right~ keep going~" you praise, the anger demon didn't want to admit that you calling his name like that actually made his stomach flutter. how could he find this exciting? how do your praises make him so eager to fulfill your request? his anger was being condescending.

karaku frowns, a grimace expressing his need to do something about the tent of his pants, but how can he disobey you? he wanted to be selfish, but urogi and sekido being praised and paid for what they're doing, made him feel jealous, he has been good from the beggining, didn't he deserve a prize too? an urge to compete against his counterparts rushed through his body, maybe like that he could get your attention. but he couldn't do much from there, urogi was working on your chest and sekido had the best part... it all feels unfair for him, he had to try another ways, so he leaned in and kissed you passionately, hoping your attention was drawn at him. the kiss caught you offguard but you decide to play along with his idea, you smiled inbetween the kiss, noticing what he was doing.

aizetsu in the other hand, was kissing your neck and leaving gentle marks along it, listening to what you were saying to karaku. however, when the green eyed kissed you, aizetsu felt left a little behind, he felt your touch fading away each second karaku spent kissing you, he didn't want that, it saddened him to not being touched and payed attention at by you, he needed you too. he took karaku's actions as a provocation, a threat to his territory and being so he couldn't allow karaku getting away with you so he came up to your face and held your chin lovingly, making you pull away from the kiss to make you kiss him, you give in smiling, sensing both of their jelousies compiting over you.

karaku was offended and tried to draw your attention back at him, insisting in kissing you again. you look at him from the corner of your eye, kissing aizetsu passionately at the same time. you were teasing him, watching his face twitch in jealousy for seeing you kiss his counterpart so vively, so intensely, as if you really were enjoying aizetsu more than you enjoyed karaku. his hand instinctively pressed his aching cock when he saw you biting aizetsu's lower lip, sharp teeth pulling his skin with desire, making him moan softly, never breaking eye contact with karaku. he was having enough, he was about to beg for you but chose being rough, he leans to your mouth even when you and aizetsu were kissing and tried to kiss you. aizetsu didn't give in and keeps fighting for his place, turning the kissing into a kiss of three. saliva being exchanged between your mouths. you laughed between the kiss at their little competition, this is so exciting!

your senses were through the roof, pleasure continuing to build up inside of you, a wave of sensations hitting you body as the clones did their job, sekido being more skilled in his area than you originally expected, his mouth working you to your climax, tongue licking and lips sucking in the right places, making a mess beneath him. your legs broke free from karaku and aizetsu's grip, suddenly sandwiching sekido's head almost making him lose focus as he made you cum. a loud moan drowned in your kiss with the other two as sekido licked your clit to help you go through your last bits of orgasm.

you pulled away from the wet kiss and rested your head on urogi's chest, sighing in relief for finally getting the release you needed all night, you held onto karaku and aizetsu's shoulders as you breathed in and out, chasing breath regulation; the winged demon massaged your belly and waist until you recovered your breath completely, he smiled with satisfaction at the view of you exhausted for all the job they've been doing for the past moments just to please you, it made his stomach flutter with excitement. your body continued to release an inhumane amount of hormones, all the fury contained in your body earlier had completely vanished at the mere touch of upper 5, you were contented and pleased, yet... you weren't satisfied, if someone offered you another round or more, you would accept without hesitation. you suddenly felt sekido crawling onto you, you contemplated him, his angered expression continuing to grow as his mouth drooled spit mixed with your fluids, his kimono subtly falling off his shoulder exposing his skin, you couldn't lie, that was kinda hot, you grinned at him.

"had enough sekido?" you teased playfully, chuckling at him.

"not quite" he growled and positioned himself between your legs, approaching you as he undressed his torso "how fucking dare you? are we just some toys to you? you're disgusting, upper one, leaving me and my counterparts stupidly aroused, you don't deserve being done for the night"

"hah? who said i was done for the night? it's funny that you mention it, actually, i could just get up and leave you and your pathetic clones here and let you starve without my touch, i would love to see how you would handle from there. you're all hard as a rock and i don't need to see it to prove it, you weak creatures, whining and begging for my attention, it would be so fun if i just left!" your voice gained a mocking manner, a cocky attitude hitting in as you allowed sekido between your legs, a short laughter escapes your lips "but... how could i... you were all such good boys, my heart squeezes with pity, i come to the conclusion you deserve at least a prize. so, sekido, if you want yours, form in line, i'm not done with all of you just yet."

thanks for reading!

[osamucide]

nsfw alphabet - osamu dazai . . . .ᐟ

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

wc: 2.1k

cw: gn!reader - no explicit anatomy mentioned, switch leaning sub!dazai, nicknames “pretty,” “honey,” and “babe” for reader, one instance of “daddy,” brief mentions of choking/spitting/slapping/marking/collaring/edging/dacryphilia, graphic mentions of cum, cum eating, CUM, degenerate!dazai my beloved

reid: no one asked for this i just be thinking uwu enjoy

. . . .ᐟ

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

it’s dazai - he’s lazy and kind of a princess. unless cleaning up is absolutely necessary (read: you both and the sheets are drenched in sweat and/or cum) he will just want to stay where you are and cuddle and be loved on

usually chatty afterward. loves to chit chat. if you’re too sleepy to hold a conversation, he’ll play with your hair and you can listen to him talk about the fall of the byzantine empire

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

dazai is aware that he has attractive hands. there isn’t a single part of himself he’s not at least a little conscious of, but he knows his hands are both pretty and skilled, so he might as well try to be proud of them!

can’t pick a favorite body part on his partner. it changes by the day. one day it’s your waist, the next it’s your hair, wednesday it’s your thighs, most fridays he prefers your hands, sometimes it’s your stomach, other days it’s your ass. . .

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

i know it tastes like sulfuric acid

cums so much. like an obscene amount.

he definitely has a thing for seeing you covered in his cum - whether it’s on your chest, face, back. . .

filthy nasty when it comes to cleanup. you made a mess on his fingers? he made a mess in your hands? your hole is dripping with his cum and yours? his mouth is on it. shameless

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

less dirty and more just embarrassing for him - he usually cries after make-up sex.

if you argue and then fuck it out, tears will be rolling down his face while he cums - he loves you so much! he doesn’t want a petty argument to ever make you rethink your relationship with him

if you notice this, no you don’t. to him it’s a fucking secret okay

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

while i do think he probably hoed around toward the end of/after his mafia days, i don’t think he’s as experienced as anyone expects him to be.

liked the feeling but hated the vulnerability. it was a tradeoff he wasn’t willing to make anymore at some point. eventually realized he needs to build up a level of trust with potential sexual partners

once that trust is built up though. hooo boy

that genius brain of his isn’t just for detective work

he’s intuitive and a quick learner. absolutely knows what he’s doing.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

spoons.

lazy man loves to wrap one arm around your neck and play with you with his free hand while he thrusts into you from behind <3

really partial to any position that lets him bite your neck and kiss your face and groan in your ear (hopes you do the same to him)

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

can’t help the occasional one liner. he’s a natural comedian

dazai rather enjoys more playful sex where you both can laugh and talk throughout - sometimes it feels more intimate than serious, stone-faced sex

takes on a more serious air if he’s feeling jealous or insecure

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

will adhere pretty firmly to whatever your preference is!

if you have no preference, he just trims when he’s unruly - maybe once every two weeks or so

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

physically extremely sensual and aware of your body - little touches and breaths on your skin, lingering eyes, things that would get glossed over by anyone who isn’t a romantic at heart

tries (and succeeds) to swoon you verbally, too.

“need to feel you, please.”

“fuck- we fit s’ well together, don’t you think so?”

“‘m all yours, honey.”

“c’mon, pretty, fuck me like you own me.”

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

pillow humper.

he’s lazy! don’t get the idea that he’s above stroking himself because he’s not, but sometimes he just doesn’t feel like it

just imagine him in the first light of the morning waking up before his alarm with an unforgiving hard on. . .he was probably dreaming about you! and if you’re not there, what else is he supposed to do other than fold a pillow between his legs and grind on it until he cums in his boxers?

nnnnhhnmnmghshdhd pillow humper dazai <3

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

choke. this. man.

whether he’s topping bottoming subbing domming whatever he cums 10x harder when your hands are anywhere near his neck

likes fingers in his mouth uwu since he’s confident in his hands, he’s definitely into you sucking on his fingers too

pry his jaw open and spit on his tongue. he will gladly return the favor, if you wish

slap him if you’re comfortable. he’s down for it. he usually hates pain, but if it’s supplemental to pleasure?

big fan of biting and scratching too, both ways if you’ll indulge him.

likes having matching marks <3

leash and collar this man while he’s on his knees and tell him it’s where he belongs. he’ll agree!

edges the hell out of you when he doms. maybe likes to see you cry a little bit <3

on the softer side, he adores being praised - bonus points if you can mix in some subtle and tasteful degradation. loves being told how good he feels, how good he’s letting you use him, how good of a boy he is. . .

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

he prefers the privacy of your bedroom so he can completely let go of his reservations

buuuuuut also gets excited about car sex uwu something about how the windows fog up, and how desperate and feral it can feel. . .

at the end of the day, he’s never met a flat surface he couldn’t fuck on. if he wants you, he’ll find somewhere to have you

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

when you get intense about anything. discussing something you’re very passionate about? someone or something is visibly pissing you off? you’re road raging? dazai’s ready to drop ‘em

oh lord about to get the works cited page going. next bullet point references this post by user cqthqrtic (not tagging as to not surprise them with random nsfw content in their notifs, however if you see this, legend, and want tagged do let me know!), who pioneered my favorite degenerate!dazai and i think about him OFTEN

so with that, on a less wholesome note than the first one, i fully agree that calling him names like sicko, perv, freak, etc. gets him going like you would not fucking believe. he lives for your half-disgusted little reactions when he whispers filth in your ear in public or proposes some depraved shit like eating his own cum out of you. god forgive me

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

heavy, intense degradation. he’s already hyper-convinced that he’s a piece of shit. keep it to the classics; he likes being your dumb slut, your fucktoy, your brat, etc. and mix it up with praise. he does not like being called useless, bad, good for nothing else, etc.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

a real eater. a proud munch. so fucking smug about it too

his mouth + his hands? you’re seeing god

cannot however deny how much he loves your mouth on his cock. he’ll almost never ask for it, but he’ll also never say no to it.

might get carried away and fuck your throat a little - don’t worry, he’ll compensate you. ride his face til he can’t breathe

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

almost always wants to take his time with you! he’s got a lot of self control and he uses that to his advantage

he can’t get over how tender it feels to bury his face in your neck, wrap his arms around you, and feel your nails in his back while he’s fucking you deep and unhurriedly

he loves slow, sleepy, lazy sex where his hands can just roam every inch of your body.

don’t get it twisted - dazai will absolutely fuck you fast and rough if you just say the word

want him to go faster and harder? give his hair a good tug <3

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

not his favorite methodology, last letter considered.

won’t decline if it’s to get out of work <3 bring him lunch at the office and he might just bend you over the bathroom sink

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he’ll try just about anything once.

this man spent his most formative years in a front row seat to observe humanity at its filthiest - anything that happens with mutual consent and good intent between you two in the bedroom can’t be that horrible.

besides, he loves discovering new kinks of his with you <3

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

only one or two rounds, maybe three on a good day, but he manages his time well.

spends anywhere from 15-30 minutes on foreplay on the first go around

will let you rest between rounds but continue kissing on you and teasing you lightly so it all just feels like one dreamy and continuous round

with his insane self control he could easily drag a couple rounds of sex out for hours. many hours.

however, he won’t usually keep you longer than three or so hours; on the flip side, he rarely spends less than 45 minutes on you.

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

not opposed to you bringing toys to the table, but no, he doesn’t own any.

he can makeshift some handcuffs out of a belt so quick - what would he need to buy them for?

not a fan of having toys used on him, but he’ll go to town on you if you want <3

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh brother

will hold off on cumming himself just so he can draw your orgasm out longer. sensing a theme here? when i tell you his self control is insane.

beg him all you want - he goes into it knowing exactly how long he’s going to edge you for <3

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he can hold himself back and be quiet. . .does not like to, though!

high quality triple x this-shit-rated-porn ass moans, sighs, grunts, and whines coming out of him regardless of his position. he was meant to be LOUD. he likes to let you know how good you make him feel!

cusses so much.

whatever he’s babbling gets so breathy and growly when he’s close

“thank you thank you thank you fuck thank you” while he cums <3

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

wanna make him bust on the spot? call him daddy while he’s in you <3

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

average thickness but god he’s long

we’re talkin pushing eight inches

no curve, very few veins, blushy pink tip

sticks straight up and twitches when he’s hard <3

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

contrary to popular (?) belief, i think his sex drive is average if not a little lower

mostly just up for it whenever you are! you bring it up? sure, he’s game <3

about who initiates sex: 60/40, you/him respectively.

if he’s not in the mood will say some really lame and uncomfortably silly shit like “i think mr. pinky’s asleep right now babe” 👎

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

no he wants. to. CHAT

has enough trouble sleeping at night as it is! kind of just wants to go back to snuggling and hanging out when you’re done

again if it’s bedtime and you’re sleepy, he’ll just talk softly about whatever until he hears you snoring.

might pick up a book for an hour or so before joining you in the dream world <3

always smooches you goodnight whether you’re awake or not.

[https-milo]

2 ☾ Baking / Satoru Gojo !!

DAY TWO OF FLUFFTOBER!

Summary

- unsurprisingly, he cannot bake... buttt the first years are counting on some desserts!

flufftober masterlist!

The night before Halloween, your boyfriend appeared in your doorway. Your decorations were hung and you were bursting at the seams of excitement for the following day.

"Satoru? It's the middle of the night!" You scolded as you let the white-haired man in. He bore his usual lazy grin and black blindfold. Despite it being almost midnight, he was still in his teacher's uniform.

"Wellllll.... I need your help!" Satoru replied as he swung an arm around your shoulder and brought you to your kitchen.

"Huh? With what? Did you lose your comb again?" You asked in confusion. He didn't reply and instead pulled out his phone, showing you a picture of terribly burnt cookies. At first, you couldn't even tell what they were. It just looked like black ash on a baking tray. "What am I looking at?"

Satoru laughed and pocketed his phone, "Well! I told the first years I'd make them Halloween treats for tomorrow, you know for some enthusiasm. Well, actually, originally it was just going to be for Megumi, but then Yuji heard so Nobara heard too... But anyway! I tried baking cookies and well... that was the result."

You blinked at him, "So you want my help with something you promised?" Satoru nodded. You sighed, "Fine. You're lucky I love you." You placed a chaste kiss on his lips before scurrying around your kitchen to get the stuff you'd need.

"I am pretty lucky about that!" Satoru replied with an obnoxious grin. He sat on the counter like a princess and kicked his feet while you got the ingredients to make sugar cookies and royal icing.

You rolled your eyes as you needed the cookie dough. "You're so lucky you're beautiful." You sighed. Satoru stuck his tongue out at you and snapped a picture of you baking. You knew, within a matter of seconds, it'd be posted to his story with some corny caption. Once the cookies were in the oven, you stood between Satoru's legs and pulled him down for a kiss. "I love you, even when you make me bake cookies for you in the middle of the night."

Satoru's smile widened and he embraced you tightly. "How could you not love me?" You lightly hit his arm in a scolding manner and rolled your eyes. "Kidding, I love you too!"

Finally, the cookies were done and cooled. The royal icing was made and ready to be piped. "Ok, I have some cute designs I found on Pinterest..." You turned your phone to Satoru, who now stood beside you with casual clothes and a pink princess apron on ("I don't want to ruin my outfit! [The outfit was old sweatpants and an old graphic shirt]).

"Those are all so complicated," Satoru complained with a groan.

"And your cursed technique isn't?" You pinched his cheek softly, "How about you do the big main colors and I'll do the details."

Satoru beamed and grabbed a cookie, "Great idea, babe!" He messily started layering the icing before smoothing it out with a knife. You took his cookies and added the details. Soon enough, you had mummies, zombies, and pumpkins tucked neatly in a container, ready to head to the school in the morning.

"Thanks a bunch," Satoru said with a kiss to your cheek. "Wanna go to the school with me tomorrow?"

You shrugged, "Sure. It'd be nice to catch up with Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi." You yawned. "Let's head to bed, yeah?" Satoru nodded and the two of you walked to your room.

"You made these?" Megumi asked Satoru with distaste in his voice as he peered into the container with the cookies. "What'd you do to them?"

"Whattttt!? I'm offended!" Satoru dramatically said, he huffed and stuck out his chest.

"I made them," You swiftly cut in and grabbed the container from Satoru.

Yuji's eyes sparkled and he greedily grabbed one of each cookie type. Nobara smiled and grabbed a mummy, and Megumi nodded while grabbing a zombie. "Thank you, Y/N!" The three chorused. You could barely hear Megumi, but you knew he said it.

"Yeah, thank you, Y/N," Satoru said. He brought you in for a kiss with his hand reaching for the cookies. You scowled and kept the cookies away from him, pushing away from his embrace.

"Nuh-uh, you had 7 on the way here."

"But Y/nnnnn..."

"No, Satoru."

© https-milo. please do not repost, steal, copy, or modify my works!

Thank you so much for reading <3

FLUFFTOBER TAG LIST!

@drxgonspine

[indestinatus]

The silent art of gif making

The gif above has 32 layers plus 6 that aren't shown because this is part of a larger edit. I wanted to share it to give everyone a glimpse of the art of gif making and how long it usually takes for me to make something like this. This one took me about an hour and a half but only because I couldn't get the shade of blue right.

I use Adobe Photoshop 2021 and my computer doesn't have a large memory space (I don't know what to call it) so usually most of psds get deleted because I'm too lazy to get a hard drive. It doesn't really bother me that much because I like the art so when it's done, it's done. Off to somewhere else it goes.

Here are the layers:

Everything is neat and organized in folders because I like it that way. I prefer to edit it in timeline but others edit each frame. There's a layer not shown (Layer 4 is not visible) and it's the vector art. Here it is:

Now it is visible. I don't plan to make this a tutorial, but if you're interested I'd love to share a few tricks about it. I'm pretty new to the colors in gifmaking but the rest is simple to understand. Here, I just want to show how much work it takes to make it.

I opened Group 2 and here's the base gif. I already sharpened and sized it correctly but that's about it. Let's open the base coloring next.

Yay! Now it looks pretty! The edits are in Portuguese but it doesn't matter. There's a silent art of adding layers depending on how you want the gif to look but you get used to it. The order matters and you can add multiple layers of the same thing (for eg. multiple layers of levels or curves or exposure).

This was pretty much my first experiment with coloring so I don't know what I'm doing (this happens a lot with any art form but gifmaking exceeds in DIYing your way to the finished product) but I didn't want to mess up his hair, that's why the blue color is like that. Blue is easy to work with because there's little on the skin (different from red and yellow but that's color theory). I painted the layers like that and put it on screen, now let's correct how the rest looks.

I was stuck trying to get the right teal shade of blue so yes, those are 10 layers of selective color mostly on cyan blue. We fixed his hair (yay!) we could've probably fixed the blue on his neck too but I was lazy. This is close to what I wanted so let's roll with that.

BUT I wanted his freckles to show, so let's edit a little bit more. Now his hair is more vibrant and his skin has red tones, which accentuates the blues and his eyes (exactly what I wanted!). That lost Layer 2 was me trying to fix some shadows in the background but in the end, it didn't make such a difference.

This was part of an edit, so let's add the graphics and also edit them so they're the right shade of blue and the correct size. A few gradient maps and a dozen font tests later, it appears to be done! Here it is:

Please reblog gifsets on tumblr. We gifmakers really enjoy doing what we do (otherwise we wouldn't be here) but it takes so long, you wouldn't imagine. Tumblr is the main website used for gif making and honestly, we have nowhere to go but share our art here. This was only to show how long it takes but if you're new and want to get into the art of gif making, there are a lot of really cool resource blogs in here. And my ask box is always open! Sending gifmakers all my love.

[sapphire-writes]

Our Last Summer (modern!HOTD)

part 5 of 10 || series masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: A date with Will Tyrell doesn't exactly go as planned.

word count: 5.0k

rating: Mature/Explicit/18+

warnings below the cut!

warnings: language, substance use, degradation, some praise, pussy slapping, pussy spitting, fingering, p in v, hand over mouth, exhibitionism, choking

note: hope you enjoy my loves!!

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

as always, comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated but not expected

You wake with an ache between your thighs and your hand fisting the sheets beside you. Aemond must have left sometime during the night.

No sleepovers. Rule number one. 

You unclench your fist, letting the silk sheets slip through your fingertips, before pushing yourself into a sitting position. Sunshine pours through the French doors, the storm from the previous night long gone. 

You don’t know when Aemond left, you must have fallen asleep before him. The last thing you remember is finalizing the rules of your….arrangement. 

“I usually establish boundaries,” Aemond said, “Guidelines that both parties are satisfied with.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. He always sounds so clinical. 

“Do this a lot, do you?” you asked, but he shrugged off the comment.

“You don’t need to know about my past encounters, and I don’t need to know about yours,” he’d told you. His violet and blue gaze was piercing. 

“Fine,” you’d agreed.

“I do think we should both be tested,” he shared, matter-of-factly, “I was recently, but I’ll go again so you can have a copy of my results.”

“You’d do that?” you asked, brows furrowed.

“That’s my standard,” he answered, “And if you ever are comfortable with fucking without a condom it's a non-negotiable for me.”

“Same,” you’d agreed, “I’ll make an appointment this week.”

You’d spent some time bickering, as you and Aemond often did.

“What are your other rules?” you’d asked, “Since you’re such an expert.” 

“No feelings,” he said automatically, causing you to snort.

“No problem,” you’d answered.

“No other partners,” he continued, ignoring the jab, “I don’t share.”

A small shiver rolled through you at his possessive tone. Your eyes flickered to your phone, thinking of Will Tyrell’s message. 

“Sounds great!” you’d responded to his text. 

“No sleepovers,” he said, “Aftercare, of course, but no spending the entire night together.”

“Understandable,” you’d agreed, though you hated to admit how comfortable you’d felt in his arms. You were nestled against him now, snuggled into his chest with one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders, the other tracing lazy circles on your thigh. 

“We’re fucking for the summer,” Aemond said, moving suddenly off of the bed. 

“Where are you going?” you asked as he left the room, the sound of thunder booming through the walls of the house.

He returned a moment later, illuminated in the doorway by a flash of lightning, a box of condoms in his hands. He tossed them to you, and you caught them as he closed the door. You raise an eyebrow, surprised he wants to go again so soon. Aemond walks to the edge of the bed, curling his hand around your ankle, dragging you forward. 

“When summer ends, this ends,” he says, kneeling between your legs at the foot of the bed, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, “Agreed?”

Your breathing picks up as you feel his breath against your core.

“Agreed,” you tell him, as his mouth descends on you. 

When summer ends, this ends. 

Your reminiscing of the night is short-lived, as a knock comes from your door, a second before it opens, revealing Helaena. You pull your shirt down, covering your bare thighs to make you somewhat decent. You frown at her as she plops onto the bed. 

“No, come in,” you tease and she purses her lips.

“Dude that storm was intense,” she said, pulling her legs up to sit in a criss-cross position, leaning her elbows on her knees, “Sorry our plans got wrecked.”

“We can make edibles tonight?” you suggested, causing her to smile.

“Always down for that,” she said with a snicker.

“Guess what,” you tell her, “Will texted me. We have a date on Friday.”

“What’re you doing?” Helaena asks, after letting out a squeal of excitement.

“Outdoor movie? They’re showing Dirty Dancing,” you told her. 

“Great movie,” Helaena says, kissing her fingertips in a chef’s kiss fashion, “Maybe I’ll force Egg to go with me, Aemond hates that cheesy shit. Speaking of….” she trails off for a moment, eying the shirt you’re wearing. 

Your cheeks flush, suddenly remembering it's his. 

“Was my brother nice to you?” Helaena asks.

“Yeah…um, we didn’t really talk. I spent most of the night up here,” you tell her.

Not a complete lie. After establishing the rules you’d spent the rest of the night in the guest room. Sure Aemond was with you for most of that. On top of you. Below you. Behind you.

You blink rapidly at the memory.

“Mhmm,” Helaena says, eyes narrowing, “Alone?”

“Yup,” you tell her, cracking a small smile.

Helaena reaches forward, slapping your thigh with the palm of her hand. You yelp in surprise at the burn her hand leaves, mouth opening in shock.

“Your pants are on fire!” Helaena teases, a smile dancing on her lips. 

“I’m not wearing pants!” you comment snidely as Helaena makes a face. 

She tilts her head, eyes flickering between you and something on the floor. Helaena raises her eyebrows. You follow her gaze, eyes landing on a discarded condom wrapper on the floor. Shit, you’d forgotten that one.

“Oh…” you begin.

“Yeah oh,” Helaena says with a snicker, “Figured that would happen. You two clearly have chemistry.”

“We do not have chemistry,” you object, “We can’t stand each other.”

“Oh yeah?” Helaena says, arching a brow, “From the look on your face, that wasn’t the only condom used. You must hate each other sooo much.”

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as she pokes you in the side. 

“You’re not like, weirded out?” you ask, “I mean, he’s your brother after all.”

“I don’t dictate who my brothers fuck, that sounds like a lot of work,” Helaena says with a chuckle, “Besides. You’re a much better option than Floris Baratheon.”

You can’t help the curiosity that’s been eating away at you. 

“What’s wrong with Floris?” you ask, brows creasing together.

“Classic mean girl,” Helaena tells you, “I just know hooking up with Aemond went to her head. Which made it all the more satisfying when you told me he’d dumped her ass.” 

Your glaze falls to your hands, as you play with the hem of your shirt. Floris had seemed pretty solid until that morning at the country club. You can hardly blame her for being heartbroken, Aemond seems like a bit of a player.

“C’mon,” Helaena says, standing, “Breakfast, then boating? I think Luke’s taking a test drive but we can go swimming or something. Meet with Bae so you can tell her all the dirty details.”

“Sounds good,” you tell her as she leaves the room, saluting you. 

You meet her downstairs once you’re dressed, where a buffet-style breakfast waits for you. Aegon stands in front of two identical silver trays filled with eggs steaming, his hair ruffled as though he’d just woken up, clad in a pair of basketball shorts. 

“What’s the prob?” Helaena asks, using her hip to move him out of the way. 

“Are they the same?” he asks, voice rough from sleep, “They look the same.”

“Cheesy, no cheese,” Helaena says, pointing right and left. She chooses the scoop for the cheesy eggs. 

“Mhmm,” Aegon says, rubbing his eyes, finally looking at you, “Oh hey.”

“Morning,” you say with a small smile. 

You wonder when he got in. Or if he’d always been home. His eyes give nothing away. 

The hair on the back of your neck stands up, as another presence enters the kitchen. 

“Aem, there’s cheesy eggs,” Helaena says with a grin, handing you the spatula.

“I’m making an omelet,” Aemond says. 

“Of course, you are,” Helaena rolls her eyes. 

Aemond moves past you, not saying anything to you. You can feel him brush against your back, his crotch pressing against your ass as he squeezes by. You can feel the outline of his cock press against you and you drop the spatula, sending it clattering against the marble counter. 

Aegon flicks an eyebrow at you, before grabbing some toast and walking over to the table. 

“Butterfingers,” Helaena teases, eyes flickering between you and Aemond.

Aemond barely glances up as he reaches for a carton of egg whites in the fridge. Annoyance gnaws at your insides. You understood the rules, they make sense in the grand scheme of things. But it still feels icky to be ignored completely after sleeping with him. 

Helaena grabs a couple slices of bacon, before plopping down next to Aegon. 

“You wanna see a movie?” Helaena asks him.

“What movie?” Aegon grumbles.

“Dirty Dancing, it’s playing in the park,” Helaena tells him.

“Ask Y/N,” Aegon says with a yawn. 

“She’s got a date,” Helaena says with a smirk, “Besides, it’ll be fun. We can smoke and make fun of people.”

Aegon nods, seeming pleased with that plan. Your eyes flicker to Aemond, who now stands at the stove. His face reveals nothing as he adds butter to the pan. Of course, it doesn’t matter, you’re just fuck buddies after all. You join Helaena at the table, taking a bite of toast. 

Aemond continues to silently cook, and when he’s finished he brings his meal outside to sit in the sun. You nearly roll your eyes at his obvious avoidance. Aegon looks up from his food, following your gaze. 

“Oh shit,” he says with a chuckle, “You’re in for it now.”

“What’s that mean?” you ask, looking away from where Aemond sits.

Aegon just grins, shaking his head slightly as you all continue to eat.

“What time is Will picking you up?” Baela asked from her bed, as you raided her closet for an outfit. 

You’d been searching forever while she scrolled through Tik Tok, various sounds filling the room. You’d had all week to pick out an outfit but somehow ended up choosing at the last moment. 

“Eight,” you told her.

“Not sailing.”

“No, he’s driving,” you told her, “But we’ll probably take his boat back.”

It was about low tide, just the time when the road appeared connecting Driftmark, Dragonstone, and King’s Landing. You could only travel by car when the tide was low enough. You pulled out a light blue dress, holding it up to show Baela. 

“No,” she said, nose scrunching, “What about that red one you bought?”

She was referring to the sundress you bought a few days ago. It caught your eye in a boutique window while out with Sara and Baela. You hurry to your room to try it on, before returning for Baela’s approval.

“You don’t think it’s too…simple?” you ask, giving her a little twirl. 

Simple spaghetti strap red dress, with little yellow flowers on it. Cute. Nice. You raise your eyebrows expectantly. Baela sits up, beckoning you towards the bed, cocking her head. 

“I think it’s cute,” she says, agreeing with your inner monologue, “Perfect for a movie date. With Will Tyrell. You know his mother like owns Home & Garden magazine?”

“Damn,” you say, eyebrows raising in shock. 

“She’s won Most Perfect Lawn for the past ten years,” Baela continues, “Insane behavior. No one cares about tulips as much as Mrs. Tyrell.”

You let out a laugh, choosing a necklace to wear. You meet Baela’s eyes through the mirror as you fiddle with the clasp. 

“What’re you going to do tonight?” you ask, putting on some earrings as well. 

“Call Sara, maybe just stay in,” she says with a shrug, “I’ll think of something.”

“You always do,” you say, turning to face her, “How do I look?”

“Gorgeous, as always,” Baela says with a grin, “Have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Not very sound advice,” you tease, and she opens her mouth in feigning offense.

“Rudeness!” she scolds but smiles as she says so, “I’m glad you’re going out with Will, he’s nice.”

You purse your lips, applying some chapstick. Baela had been pushing for Will to pull through since you told her about you and Aemond hooking up. Her eyebrows had shot up to her hairline, jaw on the floor when you’d told her. 

“Yeah, he seems nice,” you agreed, and she smiled happily. 

“Your pussy, do what you want,” she began, “But I think he’s the safer option.”

You smile at her concern. Baela’s always been one to look out for you. 

“I know, Bae. It’s just some fun,” you assure her.

“Just be careful, okay?” Baela says softly, “Aemond’s….a lot.”

You want to press her on what that means, but Rhaenys knocks on the door alerting you of Will’s arrival on the island. 

Will Tyrell had pulled up to Driftmark in a dark gray Tesla. You knew his family had money, seemingly everyone from this town did, but it was still a bit of a shock. You couldn’t stop looking at the ceiling, which was completely made of glass revealing the purpling sky. 

“Have you seen Dirty Dancing?” Will asked, attempting to make small talk.

What a stupid question.

You held your tongue, despite yourself. 

He was cute after all; dressed in a white t-shirt and khaki shorts. He’s gained a bit of a tan since the last time you’d seen him, and his chocolate curls hung around his face. 

And it wasn’t like Aemond was going to take you on a date. The guy had barely spoken to you since your rendezvous a few nights ago. You weren’t even convinced the arrangement was still on. Maybe you’d had a super immersive fever dream caused by the thunderstorms that had rolled through and imagined the whole thing.

Of course, you hadn’t imagined it, and this was confirmed when you went downtown and got tested, as promised, sending him your results revealing no sexually transmitted infections. He’d sent you a thumbs-up emoji in response, before sending his own results, next to a clock. Like a fucking ransom picture. 

So the cold shoulder was just him being a douche. Why should you expect anything else? 

It made you feel even better about agreeing to your date with Will. 

Aemond truly didn’t care about anything with you besides sex. There was nothing to lose by going on a little date. 

Will turns into the park, which you’d only seen a handful of times walking through King’s Landing. The parking lot was already filled with cars as packs of people headed down a grassy hill toward a large screen far off in the distance. 

“Wow,” you said, as Will parked the car.

“It’s pretty nice,” Will agrees, “I mean, drive-ins are cool too, but I think this is more fun.”

“This is awesome,” you agree.

You get out of the car, helping him with the two beach chairs and blanket he brought. He leads you through the path of cars before the ground begins to dip.

“Careful,” he cautions as you begin to make your way down the hill.

It’s steep, leading to a grassy field where people have already started to make themselves comfortable on picnic blankets, and chairs with groups of their friends. You and Will pick a spot, when you hear someone whistle at you. You look up and see Helaena, seated to your left about 50 feet away. She smiles as she waves, wearing sunglasses and a hoodie. 

You can’t help but laugh. Very incognito of her. Aegon sits next to her, a bucket of popcorn in his lap. She whispers something in his ear, causing him to laugh loudly. You almost wish you were over there with them; Helaena is so fun to be around. You watch them for a moment when you notice a third person seated next to them.

Aemond. 

Blood rushes to your face as Helaena says something to him as well. He doesn’t laugh like Aegon, but he does quirk a small smile at whatever Helaena says, before meeting your gaze across the sea of people.

“Want any snacks?” Will asks, and you tear your gaze from Aemond’s.

“What?” you ask, meeting Will’s soft brown eyes. 

“There’s a concession stand if you want anything. My treat,” he offers with a kind grin.

You return his smile, but your eyes keep looking behind him toward Aemond. He seems to notice, following your gaze.

“Oh, Helaena,” he says, waving. Helaena returns his wave. “She’s awesome. My lab partner in high school. She’s smart as hell.”

“Yeah, she’s great,” you agree, watching Aemond’s lips part as he tilts his head to the side slightly. Like he’s amused or something, it sends a shiver down your spine. “I’d love some popcorn.”

“Yeah?” Will says, standing, “Be right back.”

You force yourself to look forward as he walks away, but you can feel Aemond’s stare burning a hole in the side of your face. Even when Will returns and the movie begins, you can still feel him watching you. 

Will reaches for your hand a little more than halfway through, and you let him. You like how it feels; his palm is a bit rough with callouses. Not as warm as Aemond. He held your hand last night, during your second round. Lacing his fingers through yours and pressing your hands into the mattress while he-

You drop Will’s hand suddenly, a wave of arousal making goosebumps appear on your arms. Will notices, eyebrows concaving together with concern.

“You cold?” he asks.

“Just a little,” you tell him.

“I have a sweatshirt in the car, I can get it-” he says, motioning to stand.

“No, no,” you insist, “I can go, you went and got the snacks.”

“You sure? It’s no problem,” he says, eyes wide and full of good intentions.

You need a minute alone anyway, you can’t think with the feeling of Aemond’s eyes on you. You’re being a weirdo and worry that Will can sense it. 

“I’ll be back in a sec,” you assure him.

“It’s open,” he tells you and you head up the hill. 

You make your way out of the crowd, and back up the steep hill. You actually enjoy the burning sensation in your calves, it distracts from how flustered you are. Why was Aemond even here? Helaena said it herself he hates this cheesy shit. Hates everything to do with romance. Love. Affection. Human decency. 

Whatever. 

You laugh to yourself bitterly as you find Will’s car nestled in the middle of the lot. Several other cars have parked forming a few rows behind his car. You open the doors seeing Will’s sweatshirt laying across the back seat. 

You reach for the sweatshirt, pulling it to your face. It smells like clean laundry detergent. Not an unpleasant smell, but it doesn’t make your heart race or your pulse quicken. Not like-

Stop that. 

As you close the door to Will’s car you notice Aemond, leaning casually against the hood. You gasp, slightly shocked at his appearance. You didn’t hear him approach. You straighten up, holding the sweatshirt in your arms. It’s like you fucking summoned him. Aemond’s violet eye watches you carefully.

“What?” you question, taking a step toward him. 

Aemond doesn’t speak, just pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek. You sigh dramatically at the continued silent treatment.

“You back to not speaking to me? Fine,” you move to walk by him, continuing back to the movie with Will. Where you belong.

But your feet stop and you turn on your heels, not done with him.

“You know what? No,” you tell him, crossing your arms, “You’re not going to just fuck me, and then treat me like shi-” Your words are cut short as Aemond takes one long stride towards you, wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you flush against him; silencing you with a bruising kiss. 

Your words dissolve into a moan against his mouth as he brings his free hand to cup your cheek. Your eyes flutter closed as he deepens the kiss, hand moving from your waist to grab at your ass. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him. 

Aemond allows this for a moment, kissing you harshly, before removing your arms from his neck and pulling away. He looks down at you, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip before he turns you around. You turn your head to look at him as he steps forward, forcing your body against the hood of the car. 

“One night and I fuck you stupid already?” Aemond growls, pushing you against the hood of the car, “I thought I made myself perfectly clear.”

Heat pools in your lower belly at his angry tone, a dull ache beginning to throb between your legs.

“Aemond,” you hiss, lifting your head as he lifts your dress, “Someone could see.”

“Everyone else is engaged with the movie,” he assures, long fingers looping over the bands of your panties and pulling them down your legs, “Look at that.”

You can feel his hand trailing a path back up your leg, between your thighs until meeting your wet center.

“Already wet for me,” he murmurs, before delivering a harsh slap to your pussy that steals the breath from your lungs. You gasp as he rubs his fingers along your dripping folds. 

“Or is it for your little date?” he sneers. 

Your cheeks flush. He is mad. 

“That’s what this is about?” you hiss, voice practically a whisper, “Aemond it’s not like I’m fucking him.”

“You’ve broken the rules,” Aemond sing-sings, slipping the tip of his finger into your aching center. 

“You said no fucking anyone else,” you try to keep your voice firm, but it ends in more of a whine as he sinks his finger deeper inside of you, “I didn’t think-”

“No,” he cuts you off, finger stroking that sensitive rough spot right behind your pelvic bone, “No you didn’t think at all, did you?”

A sharp whine leaves your lips as you convulse as he caresses your g-spot, pressing yourself harder against the hood of Will Tyrell’s Tesla. 

“Aemond,” you whine, “You don’t even speak to me-” You’re cut off by a partially rough curl of his long fingers. 

His opposite hand winds its way into your hair, yanking your head off the hood, and making you arch your back.

“Don’t be a fucking baby, and take it,” he growls in your ear.

Your toes are pushing off the ground, pressing the curve of your stomach against the hood as your shins shake from the effort. Your hands seek purchase on the hood of the car, sticking slightly from the humidity and the sheen of sweat that has broken out across your body. 

You can hear the squelching sounds of Aemond’s fingers moving in and out of your soaked pussy, and your gaze looks wildly around the crowded lot. You’re alone, completely, everyone down the hill is engrossed with the movie. The anticipation of being caught sends adrenaline shooting through your veins like lightning, heightening the pleasure Aemond draws from your center. 

His lips move against your neck, teeth sinking into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, causing you to cry out. As soon as you do, he removes his fingers, causing you to whine at the loss of contact. 

“Greedy, greedy girl,” he scolds, letting go of your hair, bringing his hand down your spine. He pushes gently on your lower back, pressing your front completely on the hood of the car.

Your body relaxes, feet firmly planted on the ground once more as you hear Aemond unbuckle his belt. 

“You okay with no condom?” he asks, his voice strained.

“Yes,” you breathe, body thrumming with anticipation. 

Aemond presses against you; you can feel the head of his cock spreading apart your slick folds, before sinking into you. You shudder as he bottoms out, an immense rush of pleasure overtaking you as he stretches you open.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” Aemond groans, pulling his hips back and thrusting into you, “So warm, and wet for me.” He thrusts into you again, pressing you harder against the hood of the car. 

Fire pools in your belly as he continues his harsh thrusts into your throbbing center. You moan, pressing your cheek against the hood of the car, even as he shushes you. 

“Ae-mond,” you whimper, the words punctuated by each merciless thrust he delivers. 

“This is what happens,” he snarls, snapping his hips against you. You can feel the muscles of his abdomen press against your ass with how deep and hard he presses into you. 

Each thrust is calculated, with brutal precision. He’s fucking you deep, nearly removing his cock completely each time before slamming back in. Your legs shake, barely able to hold yourself up as his fingers dig into your hips. 

“Keep that mouth shut,” he orders as you moan his name again, “You want everyone to hear don’t you?”

You try, you really do but you can’t help it. Another garbled moan, a mixture of the syllables that make up his name escapes you, and he’s had enough. 

Aemond pulls out of you suddenly, roughly turning you on your back. His hands move underneath your thighs, pushing you up further on the hood. Aemond drops one of your thighs, bringing his hand to his cock. He strokes his shaft once before tapping the head of his cock on your clit, rubbing it between your folds and spitting directly on your pussy. 

“You do, don’t you?” he asks, sinking into you once more as your mouth drops open in shock at the lewd action.

You’re completely at his mercy now, one leg strewn over his shoulder, the other held in his large hand. Aemond brings his free hand to cover your mouth as he returns to his brutal pace.

“You want everyone to hear who’s fucking you,” he taunts, “Who’s giving this pretty pussy just what it needs, huh?”

You’re in a haze of pleasured shock at his words, the way his cock feels fucking you raw, the way his hand completely muffles the ungodly sounds you’re making. Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes as you watch his abs contract with each thrust. The look in his eye is something else. He’s no longer that stoic figure, fading into the background of the Targaryen household.

A cocky smirk appears on his face as he takes in your glazed-over, pleading eyes. 

“Who’s fucking you?” he growls, moving the hand that was planted on your mouth down to rest around your throat. 

He smiles an open-mouthed grin as your eyes widen, and your pussy clenches around him. 

“C’mon you wanted to use that pretty voice a minute ago,” he taunts, “Now tell me who’s fucking you.”

Your prolonged moan is nothing more than a breathy whine as he tightens his grip on your throat, almost in tandem with the strokes of his beautiful cock sliding in and out of your pussy. Your eyes are rolling back into your head; You can hear the music from the movie, it’ll be over soon, and people will come back to their cars. You almost don’t care if someone finds you like this, the pleasure within you cresting. You’re so close you want nothing more than Aemond to throw you over the edge like you know he can.

You meet Aemond’s eye again, and he raises an eyebrow at you, still waiting for your answer.

“You,” you whimper.

“Who?” Aemond insists, “Let them know, baby.” He drags his cock out, all the way to the tip, slamming back into you, “Who’s fucking you?”

“Aemond….” you gasp, “Aemond Targaryen.”

“That’s fucking right,” Aemond says, bringing his free hand to your clit. He spits again, before rubbing even circles around the sensitive button, “That’s a good girl.”

“Oh fuck,” you whine, legs shaking as you come.

“That’s a good girl, coming all over my cock,” Aemond says, talking you through it, “Oh she’s so pretty when she comes, huh?” He cups your cheeks, “Such a gorgeous girl.”

He thrusts a few more times, before unsheathing himself, stroking his hard cock and releasing pearly strands of cum on your lower stomach and the skirt of your dress. Aemond and you struggle to regain your breathing, you can hear (I've Had) The Time of My Life beginning to play as Aemond releases your thigh, removing your leg from his shoulder.

You slide off the hood, picking up your panties. You look down at the state of you, his cum rapidly cooling on your lower belly, your dress clinging to it. 

“The fuck am I supposed to do?” you hiss at him. 

Aemond merely smirks, putting his softening cock back into his pants. 

“That’s your punishment,” he tells you nodding.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he says, fixing his belt, “You wanna go out with another guy, this is what you get.”

You reach for the discarded sweatshirt, throwing your arms through it and zipping it up. Luckily, it hides some of the damage Aemond’s left behind. It’s dark out too, Will shouldn’t notice. 

Aemond smirks again, bringing his hand underneath your chin, holding it between his thumb and index finger. 

“I meant it, you know,” he says, stroking your lower lip, “You’re pretty when you come.”

Heat floods your face and you feel your pulse quicken at his words. Aemond looks at you, a moment too long, before dropping his hand and clearing his throat. 

“Better get back down there,” he says, turning to leave.

You watch him go, waiting a few moments to make sure you’re even able to walk.

What the fuck just happened?

You start down the hill on shaky legs, making your way back to Will and plopping down in your chair.

“There you are,” he says, smiling and not suspecting a thing, “Hey, are you going to the carnival next weekend?”

Your eyes move past him, watching Aemond rejoin Helaena and Aegon. Aegon holds out the popcorn to him and he waves him off.

“Umm, carnival?” you ask and Will nods, “Yeah…I’m-” you think for a moment, “I’m going with Helaena actually.”

“Oh,” Will says, “Well maybe we can meet up? Take a ride on the Ferris wheel?”

Aemond meets your eye. That’s a bad idea. You know after tonight it's a bad idea. You bring your gaze back to Will’s hopeful expression.

“Maybe!” you promise, smiling softly. 

Well, maybe not the worst idea.

OLS Taglist: @talesofoldandnew, @diannnnsss, @aemondslefteyeball, @urmomsgirlfriend1, @castellomargot, @atherverybest, @high-on-darren-criss, @diosademuerte, @padfooteyes, @tempo-rary-fix, @amirawritespoorly, @chainsawsangel, @toodlesxcuddles, @tssf-imagines, @malfoytargaryen, @nina2697, @glame, @joliettes, @yentroucnagol

@grungegrrrl, @moonlightfoxx, @melsunshine, @helaenaluvr

@m1ndbrand, @sahvlren, @muthafuckingstargirl @herfantasyworldd, @sunna-fangirls, @carriellie, @elle4404, @fan-goddess, @jamespotterismydaddy @shessthunderstoms @carriellie @sunna-fangirls @dancingqueen0

bold means tumblr would not let me tag!

[short-honey-badger]

Cramps and Cream Pies

hellooo my JJk ladies. This may be a bit niche, but I am currently on my period and couldn't get my mind off Dead Beat Dad Toji. He's just too fine. Anyway! I hope you enjoy!

Warnings! SMUT. Period sex but it's not graphic. Shower sex. Vomit is mentioned. It's Toji. He's nothing but a red flag. Breeding Kink too.

@goth-mami-writer who giggled with me over the title ❤️

Fushiguro Toji could hear you retching from where he was lounging on the couch. It was your time of the month, and it seemed to be hitting you harder than usual. He usually wouldn’t bother with helping you, or even asking if you needed anything, but listening to you cough and groan made his chest feel tight and guilt eat at his black heart. He sighs loudly and rises from the couch when he doesn’t hear any sound coming from the bathroom after a while, worrying for his girlfriend making him move his lazy ass. 

Toji finds you curled on the floor, arm tight around your abdomen, and a pitiful expression painted on your pale face. He leans in the doorway, crossing his arms and giving you a look of sympathy, even if his words do not match his expression.

“You look like you feel like shit.” 

He is rewarded with a glare, though it’s less effective than a wet kitten. 

“Thanks, Toji,” You sneer and roll over with a groan, not wanting to look at the asshole you call a boyfriend.

“Thanks for stating the obvious.” 

The elder Fushiguro huffs and rolls his eyes at you, and then shoves off the door frame to kneel by your side. He slides a hand into your sweaty hair, blunt nails gently scraping along your scalp. You sigh and press into the touch, finding comfort in the surprisingly sweet action. 

Toji rolls his eyes at you again and slides his hand away after a moment. You whine at the loss of his touch but are soothed soon after when your lover scoops you up in those thick arms you love so much and cradles you close to his chest. You shove your face in the crook of his neck and focus on your breathing instead of the feeling of your insides twisting into a pretzel.

“Poor babygirl,” Toji coos softly and kisses the side of your head. He holds you up with one arm and reaches for the shower faucet, flicking it on and turning the knob to your preferred temperature. He checks the water after a moment and then carefully sets you down. 

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up so you don’t smell gross, anymore.” 

You pout at his mean teasing and undress as quickly as you can. You can’t deny that the hot water feels amazing when you step under the spray, and your shower gets better when Toji joins you moments later. He curls an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, his big hand splayed along your lower stomach. His other hand curls along your hip, and Toji presses his face against yours. 

Toji holds you for a while, but he is a simple man, and having you all wet and pressed against him has the mercenary’s cock swell with blood. Toji is shameless in the way he grinds against you, dick pressed into the small of your back. 

“Ya know, I heard that sex can help with those cramps. Lemme fuck you, baby,” The elder Fushiguro growls in your ear and the hand on your hip slips further around, fingers easily finding your clit and pinching the sensitive bud meanly. 

“Gah! Shit, Toji~,” You hiss his name, head falling back to rest against his chest. You open your eyes and find your lover gazing at you, green eyes half-lidded and full of desire. You nod once, easily giving in to the dark-haired man when he puts just enough pressure on your clit to make your legs tremble. 

“Mhmm. You’re such a good girl, baby. Gonna feel so good wrapped around my cock,” Toji mouths at your ear, teeth catching the lobe and nipping it harshly. He nudges your feet apart, dropping the arm that he has around your waist so that he can push you forward and down at the waist. He grabs his cock, guiding his length forward to slide the fat head of his dick through your folds. 

Your hands find the shower wall, holding yourself up as Toji parts your pussy and bullies his way inside your cunt. Your lover is thick, so the stretch is a bit painful, but it only enhances the pleasure that Toji gives you. He lets you adjust for only a second before he starts up a brutal pace, cock dragging along your walls and relieving that awful pressure that has bothered you all day. 

Toji grips your hip, fucking you back on his cock as he grits his teeth. You are tight, feeling like molten lava around his dick, and Toji never wants to leave. He leans down, lips finding your ear as he snarls filthy promises into your ear. 

“I’ll make sure that you miss your next period, yeah? You want that, Mama? You want me to fuck a baby in you?” 

You nod franticly, your body on fire as your orgasm finally crests and shatters through you. Your wall constricts, squeezing his cock like a vice, and Toji curses loudly, the suddenness of you coming dragging him down with you. You milk his cock, hungry for more, and your lover eagerly gives it to you, grunting and hissing like a damn animal until his spent dick slips from your puffy folds.

You feel much better, your insides and womanly bits having settled down for now, and the two of you catch your breath, only yelp when thick fingers find your clit, rubbing harshly and causing you to jolt forward. You turn and look at Toji, feeling dread well up when you catch the wicked look on his face. He pulls you in close for an awkward kiss over your shoulder and then reaches behind him with his free hand to adjust the cooling water.

“You didn’t think I was done, did you baby?” He rumbles and smirks against your mouth, “You’re wrong if you don’t think I’m not going to stuff you full.”

[sunflowersatori]

kiss it better

sukuna x nurse!reader

contents: modern au, f!reader, sukuna is just a guy™️, he keeps getting in fights and coming to the clinic you work at so you can patch him up, some swearing, shoulder relocation (not graphic but it happens)

a/n: i do not know enough about walk-in clinics or joint relocations to be writing this but i hope y'all enjoy (also i have a follow up blurb ready if people want to read that)

//

When you checked the patient walk-in list you tried not to grit your teeth upon seeing the name that was next in line.

You stepped out from behind the desk and into the reception area.

“Ryomen Sukuna?”

It was easy to spot the tattooed man, who smirked slightly when he stood.

“Please follow me.”

He followed as you led him back into the clinic and into a treatment room.

You closed the door and turned around with a frown, “Alright you asshole, what did you do this time?”

He fake gasped, “You need to work on your bedside manner, Miss Nurse. Aren’t you happy to see me sweetheart?”

“No I am not! Don’t you know I have patients to tend to?”

“Yeah, and I’m one of them,” He had a lazy grin as he leaned against the bed. You could see that he had a cut on his forehead with a bruise blooming underneath it. He was cradling his arm as if trying to hold it in place, and his lip was split. To top it off, there was blood on his knuckles too.

He’d obviously been in a fight, just like all the other late nights he’d come into the clinic.

You sighed heavily, “Other than what I can see, what’s wrong?”

“I dislocated my shoulder,” he nodded his head at the arm he was cradling, “but don’t worry, the other guy looks worse.”

You shook your head, “Sit, and I hope that fight was worth it because this is going to hurt.”

He sat and you moved over to his injured side. Even sitting on the table he was taller than you and his broad shoulders made you feel smaller than you were. You took his arm as gently as you could, ignoring his comment about you treating him so well, and manoeuvred it into position. With one push, you popped it up and back into the socket. 

“Fuck!” Sukuna barked out a curse at the pain, and you gave him a pointed look. 

He inhaled through his teeth as you wrapped up his arm in a sling.

After gently securing the sling with a knot at his wrist, you looked up to find him watching you, still grimacing a bit but clearly trying to play it off, “Damn sweetheart, what else can you do with those hands?”

You chose to roll your eyes and not comment. You did feel bad for him for having to go through the pain of relocating a joint, so you let it slide. Instead, you gathered some more minor supplies to tend to the rest of his injuries.

The blood on his knuckles wasn’t his, so it was the easiest to fix with a gentle rub of a disinfecting wipe. The cuts were also relatively simple to deal with, and didn’t even require stitches. You cleaned everything and grabbed a small ice pack for the bruise that was now fully settled on his forehead.

When you were done you took a small step back to survey him, “Does it hurt anywhere else?”

“Yeah right here,” he pointed to his face, “maybe you should kiss it better.”

“Why would I do that?” You scoffed and turned to dispose of the trash from your used supplies.

“A kiss always makes it feel better.”

He was grinning at you when you looked back at him, though it was a much less smug expression than he usually had. You wondered if the late hour or the pain was making him a little softer.

“That’s not a service we provide at this clinic,” you said, voice soft and trying to hold back a blush as you opened the door to the treatment room, “You’re all set to go Sukuna.”

“You mean you don’t want me to stay?”

“Sukuna.”

“Fine, fine, you’re a busy lady, with people to help. I get it,” he stood and walked toward the door, but paused in the doorway.

You felt the fingers of his good hand tilt your chin up so you were looking at him, and he leaned down to get close to your face. You felt your breathing stop.

“Thanks for taking such good care of me sweetheart,” Sukuna murmured, low and soft and right next to your lips. Then he was heading back toward the reception area.

You watched him until he turned the corner and was out of sight, and then you stepped back in the treatment room. You closed the door, even if you only had to quickly sanitize the place he had been sitting before the next patient came in, but you needed a moment to compose yourself.

It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. Sure you usually had to get close to him when you treated him, but this had felt different. He’d been a bit sweeter than usual tonight, some of his normal swagger put aside.

You couldn’t deny that you found him attractive, but normally it was easier to brush aside your thoughts and focus on your work. Now, you weren’t so sure.

What you did know was that you were, against your better judgement, looking forward to seeing him the next time he came into the clinic.

[deathblacksmoke]

the unbearable weight of tenderness

pairing: jolly karlsson x f!reader

cw: unprotected p in v sex, soft dom jolly, reader is a little bossy and jolls is a perfect bb angel, kind of hurt/comfort but mostly just comfort, all sweet tings

word count: 1.6K

author’s note: the first of my jolly requests for the baby boy’s birthday ❤️ this one for my dearest hedy @darksigns-exe who wanted something nice and soft and comforting. thank you @circle-with-me as always for the beta!! i hope i did it justice <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥀

title from “dead wood” by enter shikari.

It’s all been too much today — your heart hasn’t returned to its normal rate in hours and you can’t seem to stop the trembling of your hands. You don’t know how much more of it you can take, how many more of these days you can stomach.

You wait outside the door, unsure if you should go inside yet. He’s probably had a nice, relaxing day with you out of the house. He hardly gets the opportunity, and he deserves it. You don’t want to ruin his mood and bring him down with you.

But all you want is your bed and Jolly.

You imagine the welcoming sink of the mattress, the hold of your sweet boy, the weight of him on top of you as he kisses away all the bad. You just need him to fix it. 

The immediate look of concern you’re met with when you step through the door and let your bag thud to the floor does little to soothe you, but he’s at your side in a moment, holding you to his chest as you allow yourself to slump into him.

“Bad day, darling?” he asks, but he doesn’t need to. He always knows. He’s long been able to read you perfectly, sense every little shift in your moods.

“Yeah,” you whine pathetically into his chest. He places a kiss to the top of your head and you feel as his lips curl into a smile. It isn’t mean-spirited. You can tell his gears are turning and he’s thinking up a solution.

Just like always.

“Why don’t you get comfortable while I order us some dinner. Does Chinese sound good?”

All you can bring yourself to do is nod, still feeling miserable, but hopeful and comforted as he separates from you and heads into the kitchen.

The thudding of his heartbeat beneath your ear soothes you. You’re still shaky, but at least if you can’t stop the trembling of your hands, you can place them on him.

But there’s something more you need. It’s usually just right, a lazy night in with him, but you can’t seem to settle. Even resting your full weight on him, his hands running through your hair, there’s a nagging buzz beneath your skin.

He notices — enough time spent squirming and unsettled on top of him has him fixing you with a look not quite of agitation, but a mix of impatience and pity.

“Are you doing all right, doll?” he asks you, and it’s almost teasing. You know what he needs from you before he gives you what you need, but instead you find yourself whimpering, squirming more until he stills you with a strong hand gripping your side.

“Joakim,” you whine, your eyes meeting his with a plea. “Please.”

“You have to tell me what you need,” comes his immediate response, stern and unwavering, but the edge of softness in his tone lets you know he isn’t angry with you. “I’ll give you what you need but you have to tell me what it is.”

“I just need you,” you beg, burying your face in his chest. You know he needs more from you, but it’s all so much. “Need you to get me out of my head, Jolly, please.”

You watch as the pity flickers back through his expression. There’s an undercurrent of desire, but it’s overwhelmed by something more tender as he traces a finger along your cheek.

“Do you want me to take you to bed?”

You feel as the ease floods through you, grateful he takes it easy on you just this once. You gaze up at him and nod, pleased and relieved as a grin spreads across his face.

The anxiety slowly seeps out of you as his body weight presses you into the sheets.

The welcome sink of the mattress is nothing compared to the burn, the sizzle under your skin everywhere you’re touching him — everywhere.

“Baby,” you gasp, with hardly a grasp on what you’re asking for, but it doesn’t matter. He knows. He always knows, as kisses are trailed from your lips, to your cheek, down your neck, over your collarbones. “Jolly.”

A soft shh is pressed into the skin of your chest. You vibrate with it, still trembling but in a way that’s so very different, a pleasant disquiet inside of you as he kisses away all the bad, like you knew he would. Just like he always does.

“I always take care of you, don’t I?” he asks. A rhetorical question, but you find yourself nodding nonetheless, your skin hot and feverish as your shaking hands find purchase on his bare shoulders.

It’s always so much with him, overwhelmed completely as you’re naked in your bed and bent to his will.

It should always be this way.

The angle is awkward, cramped and a little wrong, when he slides his hand down through your folds, brushing a finger over your clit and smiling into your chest as he draws a gasp from you.

“Do you want me to get you off like this?” 

You consider it for a long moment, losing yourself in the feeling of his rough hands on you. The callouses juxtapose with his ultra-gentle touch and it dizzies you. It’s enough.

It could be enough.

He could touch you like this for hours, his full weight resting on you as he draws orgasm after orgasm from you with practiced ease, but —

“No,” you gasp, grappling with his shoulders and pulling him back up to you. His pupils are blown when his eyes meet yours. He could do this for hours, too. You can’t help but pull him down to your lips, grateful for the way he always takes such perfect care of you. “Can I have your cock?”

He’s been so good for you, so patient, so polite — focusing entirely on you rather than his aching hardness. You knew. You felt it pressed into your thigh, saw him grinding his hips into the mattress as you felt the shift of the bed beneath you.

It’s for you, too, as much as him, when you ask for it. “Please.”

He nods, out of sorts, burying his face in your neck once more. Every part of you is covered by him. He’s so affected that he doesn’t make you work for it and you’re so thankful.

It’s with one languid move, smooth and practiced, that he lifts his hips and slides himself into you. 

The stretch burns — always does for just a moment — but he’s right there to soothe you with kisses when you find yourself gasping.

“Be good for me, love,” he breathes into your open mouth, accompanied by the steady, shallow rock of his hips. It’s your favorite thing, being wholly surrounded by him, being picked apart and pieced back together.

You’re adjusted before long, lost in the slow drag of him inside you and his lips on your skin as you relax into the mattress once more, letting him take care of you.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, nipping ever so gently at your bottom lip. Your mouth curves involuntarily into a grin. He always fixes it.

There’s a long while spent like that, his spit slick lips never parting from you, finding a home on your skin. 

Your mind shifts to the realization you could spend your whole night like this, your whole life like this, when he lifts his torso off yours.

“Hey, no,” you complain, grabbing at his sides to try to drag him back down to you. The hand that had been moving towards your center stops its descent, and he stops moving, and you feel a little bit like you want to scream. You can’t have him stop.

“You don’t want me to get you off?” he asks, and the sweet look on his face would make you soft for him, if not for your complete displeasure with the space he’s put between you.

You shake your head, dragging him back on top of you. Your hands find purchase on his lower back, fingers digging into his skin, moving his hips for him. You know you’ll leave marks with how hard you’re gripping. You can’t wait to admire the marks for the days to come, knowing you did that.

“I’ll cum like this,” you tell him. He places a smile to your lips. It’s just the right amount of pressure, of friction. When you pull your knees up, wrapping your legs around him, it’s just right. “Just stay.”

It’s so much for so long that you can’t help yourself. You throw your head back but he follows, hands in your hair moving your head forward again to meet his gaze. “Eyes on me, darling.”

It’s out of your power when you feel yourself tumbling over the edge, gaze remaining on him, just like he asked. You knew he wouldn’t be far behind and you feel him stilling inside of you, bringing his mouth to yours to quiet his gasps against your lips.

And it’s everything you needed from him.

The moments pass and you’re so content to have him stay like that, resting on you, softening inside of you. 

“How’s a bath sound? Need to get ourselves cleaned up,” he says into your neck, but not making any moves to get up. You’re not ready yet.

“Just a little while longer?” you ask — the question not even finished before you swear you feel him rest more of his weight on you, sinking further into the bed, intent to keep fixing it.

Whatever you want. Just like always.

tags:

@concretenoah @circle-with-me @darksigns-exe @ladyveronikawrites @cookiesupplier

@bngurngheart @agravemisstake @iknownothingpeople @anameunmusical @sitkowski

@abiomens @baddestomens @collapsedglasshouses @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

[gojoshooter]

A to Z — with Gojo Satoru

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x reader (any gender)

Genre : sfw, fluff and loads of fluff, gets a bit steamy but still sfw

A/N : lots of gojo headcanons <33 this is my second work so im still learning. reblog if u like? ♡

WARNING : non-graphical description of make-out sessions, mention of blood, injury, arguments, spoilers

A = Affection (are they affectionate with you?)

He doesn't get to spend a lot of time but this boy loves you so much

Bringing souvenirs is his love language, god he spoils you

A hard day makes him super touchy so he either spoons you to sleep & gives unhealthy amounts of kisses or just drapes himself on you if he's feeling extra lazy

Sweetheart over babygirl

B = Babies (how many kids does he want?)

He doesn't really mind, hasn't though about it much

He'd let you decide whatever you want tbh

Lowkey would like three to four kids, either all daughters or all sons to make a cult gang of his own

You both are like mom & dad to Megumi so he's fine either way

C = Comfort (how do they comfort you?)

When you start ranting about another mean customer and how hard the day has been, he let's you take your time and reminds to take long breaths in between, lacing your fingers together with his mild warm ones

He'd usually get quite when you're crying, holding you in his folded lap but takes it into his own hands and cracks silly jokes when your crying becomes uncontrollable

You'd crack up most of time and relax, explain him what's going on with you, but if it goes any further and your state is worse than he expected, he'd be dangerous to deal with

Now better expect the person who hurt you dead

D = Date (how was your first date? what are dates with him like?)

He would usually get overboard with dates, getting you high-end expensive branded clothes to a dinner in one of the best restaurants in japan

Don't get him wrong though, he does this not to be pompous of his richness but because he gets so little time to spent with you

E = Emotion (is it easy for them to express his emotions in front of you?)

If there is anyone he can let himself be him around, it's no one but you

Since the day he executed his best friend, you're the only person left to hold him when he falls

He barely cries, (except that one time he killed geto) just becomes quite and you know something is not right

He never reaches out first so you sometimes end up over thinking about his health

F = Feelings (when did they know they were in love with you?)

He can't pinpoint a specific time when he started to fall for you

But maybe it started when you both were given a mission together and you planned and executed the whole thing with so much brains and courage, all you left him to do was to rescue you after you, a semi first grade sorcerer finished off the special grade curse all by yourself

He was so impressed, almost called himself a simp if he didn't know the fact you were all the same head over heels for him too

G = Gym (do they go to the gym? how built are they?)

His busy life as a 'shaman who protects people' takes credit for those guns

He has applied for a gym session but that's just for the talk

Is actually quite buffed up

Can do more than a hundred push ups

Just the perfect amount of muscles to make him an eye candy

H = Hands (how do they like to hold hands?)

When holding hands he swings your arms back and forth like a little kid

He does it so absent-mindedly you find him adorable

Doesn't let go of your hands if you both are making out

He does that because you shy away and he enjoys how helpless you look flushed bright red under him

Plays with your fingers when nervous

I = “I love you” (who said it first? and how?)

It was obvious to almost everyone who knew you two about your mutual pinning each other

But you keep chickening out and so did he

One day when you were badly injured due to an exceptionally hard mission with him he loses his cool and composure because it was you and in the heat of the moment he tightly hugs you making you promise to not let go and inevitably yelling the three words

For the sake of being a bitch and getting it back on him for every mean thing he did to you, you say, holding his face in your equally injured bloody hands, "I'm alive, honey"

You cackle as he picks you up for treatment at Shoko's clearly fake-pissed off

Ultimately you kiss his cheeks confessing back in the moment

J = Jealousy (do they get jealous? how do they act when they’re jealous?)

Gojo can get jealous really easily so you don't need to try

And when he is, he would act like a child

If he could just throw you over his shoulder while saying “mine” he would

But he settles for coming from behind you, relaxed smile on his lips, he asks what you guys are talking about in an innocent tone

K = Kiss (how do they kiss?)

It is usually short and quick ones when he kisses you bye for his solo missions or somewhere out with his students

To compensate he'd kiss you really deep and long during make out sessions knowing the fact you don't have musk ox of a lung like him

It's either quick or deep ones, no in between

Forehead kisses are his favorite

L = Love language (how do they show you that they love you? what is their love language?)

KING OF GIFT GIVING BYE

He'd pick flowers if there are any around, and braid/tuck them into your hair

Lightly scratching behind your neck and ears then smothering them and asking you to do the same

Gojo would bite your cheeks in the most random moment

Buy sour patches and gummy bears to eat with you

M = Memory (what is their favorite memory with you?)

Drunk karaoke

Neither of you could sing but it didn't matter and you couldn't stop laughing about how terrible you sounded together

Nanami came to the rescue and booked a cab

You recorded the whole thing and couldn't stop watching it when you got home

N = Night (how are nights spent with him?)

Falling asleep against his shoulder after a late night movie marathon

Sometimes he'd insist to cook the dinner by himself

And it's a new recipe of Kikufuku

You'd try to act mad but can't put it up for long not when he holds a spoonful with big eyes of the sweet desert he made

Loves to cuddle you specially on winter nights

O = On cloud nine (how do they act when falling in love with you?)

Becomes a lot more thoughtful on the next thing he gifts you and a bit more excited about giving them

Might be a bit more flirty without really realizing

Gojo also notices a lot of things about you that he begins to like more than usual

Starts acting more silly and childish (which you love)

P = Pet names (what pet names do they use?)

He's a tease, so he comes up with new odd but funny nicknames like 'nugget' and calls you that before switching to something new after almost a week

Lots of pet names when he'd comfort you, usually cute ones like 'love bug', 'bambi' or 'pup' which are your favorites

Gojo often calls you by your name followed by a '-chan' or '-kun' if he refers to you in front of anyone

Q = Quizzes (how much do they remember and know about you?)

He's a busy man, so you wouldn't mind if he forgets your birthday

But the thing is he doesn't

Keeping small things about you in mind that are important to him, like whether you're depressed or anxious

Making playlists that match both of your tastes and sending them to you late at night when he's abroad on a mission missing you

R = Rage (what do they do if they're mad at you?)

Literally almost none of your actions can make him angry

Oh but one thing

Gojo was really mad that one time you put yourself to such a diet it started to effect your body mentally and physically

Never raises his voice though, you got a day of cold shoulder untill you gave up on the diet

S = Sugar or Spice (what do they prefer?)

He has a big sweet tooth

Eating almost half of the desserts that you bring in a day

You wish his teeth rot but he's god's favourite

Can not handle spice much as you can

Probably the only thing Gojo Satoru isn't good at

T = Twitter (are they on twitter? if yes, what do they do there?)

He made a private twitter account few weeks after in a romantic relationship with you

Only lets few closest of his friends and students in

The username is 'y/nlovebot'

Isn't very active but tweet at a random hour asking the weirdest question about love advice

Megumi blocks him

U = UwU (would he ever act cute for you?)

Do you think he needs to act?

He's a jerk but he can do that to make up and you'll always fall

He'd look cute even with his small smile playing on his slightly pink glossy lips

Prolly his copping mechanism

V = Vip (how important are you to them?)

If he could choose, he'd choose you over being the strongest sorcerer in the world

You're his top priority

If not one of the top, besides Geto

You're afraid to test where he might draw the line but you believe in him, he'll never let you down

You're his 'special little pup' and very much vip

W = Waking up (what are they like when they wake up next to you?)

It's not rare that you're up before him

Waking up, you open your eyes to see his broad bare shoulders & his light hair slightly across his face

Or sometimes you wake up tangled somehow, arms and legs are often intertwined, and you're lying on his chest

He won't wake up untill his morning kisses are given

X = X-ray (how does the relationship look from an outside perspective compared to how it really is?)

Your relationship seems the cute and stable type

If there are any arguments, Gojo and you would work it out the smart ways

He knows how to handle your bad mood the best, giving you space and preparing a warm drink to make you relax

There's never a time he makes you feel things wouldn't be okay

He's not the type to baby sit you and you know that because he lets you do your part of the mission

He fell for what a rebel of a person you are, come on

Y = Yes (do they think of getting married/proposing?)

It would start off as a joke between the two of you on a late evening, in between the laughs and the light breeze coming from outside the Jujutsu tech

Gojo would find the idea of marrying you very appealing, suddenly not laughing anymore

There would be a high chance that he would promise on holiday or something to make it a special time

On the day of proposal night, that happens to be your birthday, he'd definitely do something silly like wrap a bit of tissue around your finger as a fake ring until he got one

Z = Zzz (how do they sleep with you?)

Finds it easier to sleep while hugging you to his chest

Often tangles his legs around yours out of habit when he spoons you

He's not a heavy sleeper thanks to his sharpened senses

You like to stroke his hair and he would smile at you but wakes up with you sprawled all over him lol

A/N : AND THAT'S ALL. i hope this put a smile on your face somewhere along the lines lol. Untill next time!

Tags : @luckimoon ♡

[camlovesjace]

GHOST RIDER, modern Jacexoc!fem

SUMMARY: Jacaerys had been acting weirdly, going out many nights and coming back in the mornings, Cellys is suspecting he was cheating...but the truth was far away worst. WARNING: violence, cheating suspicion, use of bad words, murdering, graphic descriptions (also, writer is not an english native, had patience pls)

Once again, he was gone. He had slip out of the bed at midnight and didn't come back, as usual lately. Cellys was worried, freaking out was a most clear description, her friends had talk with her, saying he was probably sneaking around with some other girl and that she should dump his ass away from her before he break her heart deeper or found him red handed. That thought made her shiver, she could barely think of it without feeling the knot forming on her throat.

Jace. Her Jace. Sneaking around with other girl?

It sounded so unrealistic, but nothing else could explain his behavior. He always arrived home in the mornings, tired and exhausted. His abstinence in home was like an empty place without solace, and she didn't realized she was getting distant when he was around.

She used to look at him, she notices everything he does or don't does.

He looked disturbed, his mind anywhere else but not there.

Then she heard the door opening, his lazy steps entering in the apartment, the sun was shining with it´s first rays of golden, it was a constant reminder of the day embracing the night. She pretended to be fall asleep, covering her back with the sheets and blankets, she heard his soft gasps of tiredness, he was coming to the bedroom.

He walked in, his presence itself was relieving, but it didn´t made her felt better. The idea of him in the arms of someone else, with his hands touching other skin, his lips kissing someone else...his love being torned apart from her, it was killing her.

His weight get into the bed, he was moving quietly but his lazy movements made the mattress move up and down slightly.

"Babe..." he murmured, his voice was low and hoarse but she didn't opened her eyes, trying to look as slept as possible. She could felt his hazel gaze on her back, then his arms wrapped her waist under covers as he cling behind her, like a hurted dog.

He buried his face on the back of her neck, his nose smelling the sweet aroma of her hair, a smell that always bring him home. She could smell a strong burning smell, like the smoke of a bonfire. The way his arms felt so heavy around her showed her how tired he truly was, and once again, that knot on her throat felt tighter than ever.

She broke down, crying as his warm body held hers, her soft almost inaudible cries hitted him like a punch in the guts.

"Hey, hey...what´s wrong?" he whispered, sitting in bed and turning her to face him, his grip was firm but gentle, seeing her eyes covered in tears all of them pouring down her cheeks -like if she were holding them for so long- while her chest moved up and down quickly in a painted breathe.

A wave of protectiveness washed over him, as he pulled her into his arms deeper but she broke the hug, getting away from him in bed. Then the realization made him felt sick.

"No" he spoke, his tone sounded more hard than he would've wanted, but into his chest he only felt guilty. Guilty for making her feel like this, for making her think he was doing that to her. She the love of his life, the best thing that's ever been his and the most precious he has.

"Do not do this worse" she whispers, trying to clean her cheeks but it was useless, tears were locked in for too much weeks and now they were scapink in a tsunami of emotions that made her stomach twist in pain "Jace, i know...i know-"

"No" he interrupted her, he moved quickly over her, holding her wrist and pinning her on the bed, his eyes held a plea on them "You need to believe me, please, please, my darling" he begged, desperately.

Knowing the truth would be dangerous for her, but he knew staying by his side would be much more. He didn't wanted her to leave, to go away from him and never see her again, to never heard her laughter or to feel her warmth on the bed every time he need solace from the dark curse on his soul.

"Aren't you? Tell me you're not doing it, tell me that even if it is a lie" she says, her lips on a soft pout, her heart was sinking on her stomach. He looked down at her, still pinning her body under his, not wanting to let go.

"I'm not! Cellys, i'm fucking not" he shouted, but his own tears made his confession sound weaker, not because it wasn't true but because he knew he was being selfish. He wanted her to stay, he told himself he would be able to protect her, to not hurt her in the path...but he was doing it by lying to her "I would rather die than betray you that way, you heard me? i would rather to be a damn rotting corpse buried in the darkest place of the world and the hell before hurting you like that" his tears were pouring down his cheeks, his grip on her arms tighten but not enough to make her feel pain.

She felt completely devastated, torned by the suspicion of his cheating and his sincere voice when he said he would never, she wanted to believe him so bad. She wanted to say she choose to trust in their love, but what if she was wrong? what if he lied? once again.

What if...?

It´s been a while since they talked, Cellys was out with a female friend on Verona, for the long weekend. But he knew it was an excuse to stay away from him, from home. She didn't believed him, and he understood why, he was lying after all. But not in the way she thought he was lying, her suspicions of cheating made him felt offended, but how could he blame her? He was, in fact, being distant and having an erratic behavior.

But there he was, sitting in a dark place in the middle of nowhere. The blood slipping through his fingers, the bone still noticeable under his knuckles. His body was sore, he could feel the heat of the fire around his neck. Even if his own fire could not hurt him he still felt the wound.

The sun was still hiding, extending his course.

The man sat next to him, in the bench, his pale skin was similar to the white tone of his bones, that were covered in an orange and blue flame.

"It is done" he announced, not disappointed but neither proud. The dead body of a man behind them, his soul was lost...as well his own.

"I know it's fucking done" Jace says, his voice was lifeless and rough, like if it carried a demoniac tone with it. The sun started to rise, the golden color was heavenly, and it reminded him to Cellys. Her sweet smile, her gentle touch, how it was to feel her breath against his neck when he held her.

He was losing her...

"Be careful in the way you spoke at me, child" the man says, the rage on it was heavy but Jace was not afraid of him, he was mad too. This was ruining his entire life, he wanted to give up.

He would rather die but not let his girl to think he would cheat on her like a bastard. No when he would fight with the devil himself to protect her and her feelings.

"I don´t wanna keep doing this, i wanna go home..." he says but the man only laughs.

"You think you have an option?" he mocked, then his gaze darkener "if you don't do what i say, i guess i must start to give you reason to..."

Jacaerys felt his skin burning as the sun rises more and more, he gasped in pain when his flesh started to cover his bones back, his fingertips found his jaw when the skeleton under was being replaced by skin and muscles, the fire dying.

"What...do you mean?" he asked, breathless. The smell of smoke burned his nostrils, it was the smell of his flesh killing the fire that was around his bones. The process was painful but more bearable than the first time he was turned into this monster.

"The girl" the man says, a smile pulling of the corner of his lips "She is pretty, isn't she? An angel"

A shiver ran down his spine with that protective instinct over him he had felt so many times before, but this time was much stronger than ever.

"Touch her and you're dead" Jace threatened but it sounded like a pathetic and useless warning in the ears of the devil.

"Oh, boy, i'm already are"

dt; @nebulamorada <3

[thefangirlfever]

180 Degrees (18+, a Miguel O'hara and Peter B. Parker NSFW story)

Summary: A very self-indulgent piece of smut involving Miguel...and Peter.

Tags: M/M/F, NSFW, afab reader, smut, threesome, PIV penetration, oral sex (f. and m.receiving), dilf, dirty talk, fingering, breast play, reader is on the pill (please, wrap it before you hit it), pulling out before ejaculating (don’t do that), double penetration, (poor attempt at writing) anilingus, pet names, aftercare

Content warning: this story contains graphic depictions of intercourse. If one or multiple tags up above make you feel uncomfortable, please do not interact with the following story.

English is not my first language. I apologize in advance for the mistakes.

============================================

“It's okay, you did your best.”

Peter was slowly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you with such soft eyes... You had quite a rough day and Peter knew how to help you relax. You were leaning into his arms, your head resting on his chest while he kept whispering soft nothings into your ears. His pink bathrobe was discarded somewhere in the room, along your suits. Your two bodies were bare and touching in a comforting embrace. You really needed this and he had sensed it. You were slowly relaxing and closed your eyes as he kept on pampering you, slowly rocking you back and forth.

"It's okay to make mistakes sometimes..." Peter kissed your temple before nuzzling his nose into the thick lock of your hair.

"Do you think Miguel will resent me?", you asked with your eyes still closed.

"Why don't you ask him directly?" He answered in a soft voice, grinning.

Miguel was standing in the door frame, looking at the two of you without saying a word. His face blushed in front of this sight. Your two bodies entangled all over the sheets with nothing hiding you. He didn't even know where to put his eyes. You opened your eyes and felt yourself getting self-conscious, since he had a direct view on your intimacy. You immediately closed your legs but Peter had other plans for the three of you tonight. He was still holding you by your waist and his other hand firmly grabbed your knee and proceed to move it, making you spread your legs.

“Miguel, I think Y/N is a little anxious you might resent her for her earlier mistake. Don’t you think you should reassure her?” His tone was clearly ridden with innuendo and teasing. On the other side, Miguel seemed like he was still in a trance or as if he just woke up. He slowly shook his head and made his way toward the bed. His hands were resting on your knees as he towered the two of you. His expression was as neutral as usual, while you could clearly feel Peter smiling on your side.

“Don’t you think there’s a way to make her feel reassured?”, asked Peter and Miguel knelt in front of you. His hands slid down your knees to your ankles that he pinned to the bed.

“I think I just know the way.”, Miguel answered in a low voice. His thumbs were drawing circles and other lazy shapes on your ankles, your calves just to ease you. He planted a kiss on one of your knees, still holding eye contact.

“What do you say, doll? Would you like Miguel to help you feel better?”

You could only nod and Peter kissed the side of your face, his beard prickling against your sensitive skin. He whispered:

“That’s a good girl.”

Miguel could only hum in agreement as his kisses trailed down the curve of your arched legs, soon reaching your thighs. Peter kept kissing you, while one of his hands rested on your chest. His free hand traveled down the curves of stomach, over the rolls of your belly until his fingertips brushed against your pubes. Miguel and him shared one knowing look while the older man’s fingers started spreading your labia, displaying your arousal to their hungry looks.

“You’re so pretty.”, Miguel whispered in an enamored voice. He had finally dropped the cold act and was living the moment. Peter could only agree with him and his fingers kept toying with your lips, making sure to simply brush against your clitoris. The small nub was growing more erect as Peter’s fingers kept circling it.

“So wet.”

“So soft.”

The two men’s voice kept you in a bubble of praise and love as they kept admiring your womanhood. Their praise words made a blushing mess out of you and it only went worse as Peter began kissing your neck. This was not the cute and quick pecks he was giving you at first but hungry, longing kisses. He dragged his lips over the curve of your neck, the goosebumps on your skin until his teeth scrap at your earlobe, gently tugging on it.

“Do you want this, baby?”, he asked and you could only breathe out a small “yes”.

Miguel’s been watching the two of you on his knees and this whole show had left him hot and bothered. As soon as you agreed on letting them touch you, he leaned closer and brought his lips to your cunt. He kisses your mound up and down, his tongue poking out between his lips just to tease your folds. What was a soft caress soon turned into a heated kiss with your dripping sex. His face delved into your folds, tongue-fucking you as moans and grunts escaped his lips. His forehead was pressed on your lower belly and his mouth grabbed your clitoris, suckling on it as if he was trying to dry it. He couldn’t help himself but to insert one of his thick fingers inside your cunt, pumping it faster and faster, filling the room with the sounds of your pleasures combined. Peter was now the one having a show given to him and he could only smile seeing how eager his lovers were. Your parted lips only made the softest moans, pleading Miguel to go faster, deeper and Miguel’s large body hunched down to crawl between your legs was a sight to see. This was the kind of sight that usually made his dick harden in a few seconds and today was no exception. You could feel his hard-on pressing against your lower back, the feeling too familiar only enhanced your wetness, which profited to Miguel. Peter laughed as you squirmed, trapped between their bodies, with Miguel’s mouth on your lips and his fingers playing with your breasts. His slender fingers tugged and pulled at your nipples, rubbed your areolas and squeezed the plump flesh of your breasts together. Your whole body was on fire as every sensitive part of you was stimulated, to a point you almost felt overwhelmed. But Peter’s wicked smile could tell you this was only the beginning. You leaned more into his embrace watching with a pleased expression on your face his fingers rolling your sensitive nipples and Miguel’s face buried between your legs. His fangs grazed over your folds and you squirmed, letting out a surprised cry. He immediately stopped what he was doing, looking at you with a concerned face.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, it’s alright Miguel.”

Peter hugged you closer and kissed the side of your face. The younger man was visibly embarrassed that his eagerness almost hurt you as he also started kissing your thighs in an apologetic way. He made sure to not hurt you while doing so, only pampering your skin with soft kisses. You couldn’t stand his disappointed expression and you began playing with his hair, twirling his curls around your fingers, gently tugging on them as he went higher on your body in an attempt to reassure him. His hands were on your side and his lips kept were now kissing your belly, making sure to not forget one inch of your tender skin. He nuzzled his face against your stomach and started breathing heavily as the scent of your skin was almost intoxicating and taking over all his heightened senses. You laughed softly when his hair brushed against you, tickling you in an unexpected way. Your laugh was everything he needed to be reassured and with a soft smile he kissed you just between your breasts.

“I’ll be more careful muñeca.”

It was Peter who proposed to switch up the position. Of course it would be him. While Miguel made sure to always be the most gentle possible, Peter was a bit more...direct. He had you laid on your back, your legs thrown over his shoulders, his hands holding your ass while his mouth hungrily sucked every ounce of fluid leaving your pussy. His tongue roamed your spongy insides, making you clench around his muscle while your clit rubbed against his nose. Spit, saliva and cyprine made your lips glossy and sticky but he didn’t seem to mind it. The scent of your arousal was intoxicating and you saw his eyes rolling back multiple times as he almost bit you.

On the other hand, Miguel was stroking your carefully, caressing your face from time to time. He was still embarrassed from what happened earlier and you could tell. But an other emotion had taken control of him. You were face to face with his erection. He was probably feeling too awkward to ask any of you for help and Peter being too absorbed into eating you out must have not noticed his discomfort. There was no way this was comfortable for him. You began to palm him through the thin fabric of his suit when you noticed a wet spot in the front of the material. Miguel immediately shivered at your touch, holding back a stifled moan.

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to be embarrassed, Miguel.” Your fingers kept palming him through his suit, even if you wanted more.

“Are you still thinking about what happened earlier?”

He nodded slowly his head, his cheeks red from embarrassment and his growing desire. His fingers were now planted into the mattress in an attempt to hold himself back, to not fall into the sheets and let you ruin him totally.

“It’s alright, Miguel. I know you didn’t do it on purpose. Please, don’t be embarrassed.”

You tried to make him join you and Peter. He had the right to have fun too, to be part of this moment. And after enough pleading, Miguel’s suit finally disintegrated, revealing his toned body and an erection like you’ve never seen him before. Your fingers stroked his cock while your eyes already reveled themselves in the sight of his red and swollen tip, leaking precum onto your fist. You brought the said tip between your lips and after giving it a few light kisses, you began to gently suckle on it. Miguel immediately reacted as his claws came out, ripping the sheets underneath him. Your warm and wet lips were sucking only the tip of his cock while your fingers jerked him off, your nails scratching against his veins from time to time. He didn’t dare to make a move and could only watch you with a tender look. It was difficult for him to stand still as you played like this with one of the most sensitive spots of his body. He watched, mesmerized, your red lips and how their color matched with his swollen and red tip. One of his hands stroked your hair in a soft praise, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying this moment too.

And you did enjoy the feeling of having Miguel inside of you, whether it was between your legs or your lips. The feeling of your heats mixing together, of his warm sex swelling and growing inside of you was exhilarating. It made you feel full and satisfied as you could feel his precum slowly dripping down you tongue, leaking down you throat, filling you up slowly. Miguel always made sure you were comfortable while doing so, conscious that his size was a little more than average. That’s why he was just caressing your hair and didn’t dare to move your head, waiting for you to make the first move. Slowly, you swallowed more and more of his throbbing member between your lips, moaning loudly while doing so. He could feel the vibration of your moans around his cock and it took all his willpower to not thrust into your mouth. Some of your spit was dripping down the corners of your mouth, coating his flushed skin. His cock was resting on top of your tongue and you began to wrap your tongue around it. A loud grunt escaped Miguel’s lips and his fingers grabbed your head tighter. He was still careful to not put too much pressure on your skull but this sensation was driving him crazy. The mere sight of your body shifting on top of the sheets, squirming in order to engulf him the best way possible took the best of him.

“I’m so close...please, baby, please…”

He tried to keep his voice low and soft just like his actions. With one hand, he caressed your hair, your temple and forehead. Your lashes brushed against his fingers and he could only admire how peaceful you looked, lost in your own pleasure. He couldn't resist teasing you further by playing with your breasts.

Peter watched the two of you from the feet of the bed and he could feel his dick getting rock hard at the sight. Seeing you taking Miguel so well, his mind was overtaken with only one thought. You, wrapped around his cock while he pumped into you, almost desperately. His cock was throbbing between his legs in an almost painful fashion. The more he tasted your folds and juice, the more he dreamed of tasting them with all his body. Miguel and him exchanged one look and seeing how his lover’s cheeks had turned flushed and red, how his jaw was hanging low, he released your clitoris from between his lips with a wet ‘plop’. The nub was fully erected from his hood, all red and squishy. The cold air of the room against it made you moan, to Miguel’s delight. Peter watched the two of you while his fingers began to wrap around his erection. It was a matter of seconds before he began to thrust his cock into his fist, imagining that it was your delicious little cunt around it. His eyes caught a glimpse of Miguel’s fingers squeezing your breasts and he whined. One day, your body wouldn’t have any more secrets for him. The thought of letting his cock rest between your breasts made him move his fist faster. But there was an other place where he knew he could easily let his cock rest… for hours if he wanted to. His eyes roamed your body and finally set down on your aching sex. Your arousal was leaking down your thighs, your pubic hair were glistening under the light of the room with your cyprine and it looked like you were screaming for him. The pink shade of your lips, convulsing and twitching, evoked to him your inner walls, soft and warm, how well you would welcome him inside of you. He began to imagine your lips covered in his cum, your clitoris painfully erect as he toyed with it while stuffing you. His mind was clouded with one thing only, your cunt. How he would like to keep his dick warm between your flushed walls all night long, making you stand still on his lap while Miguel would lap at your clit. How you would look, trapped between their two bodies, his cock between your legs and Miguel’s taking you from behind. How good you would take each of his fingers, until he stretched you enough to sit on his sex for hours.

Peter moaned louder as more precum dripped from his tip, making his fingers slippery and his moves more sloppy. You finally noticed him, jerking himself off and after one look at Miguel, the young man asked if you wanted to help Peter feel better, if you would like to be a good girl for him too. You could only eagerly nod your head, spilling more saliva down Miguel’s shaft. You spread your legs for Peter and with a sigh of relied, he brought his cock toward you.

“Thanks baby. Thank you.” Peter’s breathing was heavy. He felt like he could explode any time soon. He brought the tip of his cock just against your clitoris, rubbing the mushroom-like head on your sensitive hood. You kept your legs apart as much as you could. His precum began to spill over your pubic hair and your cunt. Your grip on Miguel’s cock tightened and Miguel moaned louder.

“You want me to stuff that pretty pussy of yours?” Peter asked with a mischievous grin, his voice dropping low as he watched you rolling your hips, looking for some relief. He was slapping his tip against your clit, watching in amazement his cum spill on your stomach. All he got from you was a low moan, coming from the depth of your throat.

“That’s it, baby. You take me so well.” His tip rubbed once again on your clit before he teased your lips. His precum was wetting your folds, getting you ready to take him fully. Your sex was burning hot, almost begging for him at this point. When he finally penetrated you, Peter let out a low groan of satisfaction. You were so warm, so wet, almost like a second home. He knew he wouldn’t last long as your walls squeezed him tight. After a few energetic thrusts, Peter felt really close. He wasn’t usually this fast to end things but watching you and Miguel hit it off really turned him on and got him all riled-up. A familiar sensation washed over his body and he quickly pulled out, finishing himself with his fingers until a jet of white semen spilled over his fingers. And just like in a perfect symphony, Miguel reached his own climax. He was a little slower to pull out and some of his cum spilled on your chin. It took him some time to notice this and when he did, he quickly kissed your forehead and wiped your face clean with the sheets.

“You were amazing, Y/N.”

Peter smile as he watched Miguel holding you in his arms, rocking you back and forth in a strong embrace, just like he did earlier. He went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to finish cleaning up your face and your stomach. Peter’s actions were once again soft and tender as he kissed your neck. Miguel on the other side kissed your forehead and then your shoulder. You could feel their bodies encircling you in a comforting embrace as they kept kissing you. The heat in the room was slowly growing back.

“Is there anything you’d like, Y/N?” Peter asked in a whisper. “You deserve to be spoiled after what you did for Miguel and me.”

You didn’t know what to answer. So many thoughts ran through your mind and yet, all you managed to say was: “Could you please keep kissing me?”

Miguel smiled fondly at your soft voice and his mouth kept showering your skin is kisses. His kisses were slow and sensuous. His wet lips left a trail of reddish marks over your shoulders and your collarbone as he sucked on your skin. Peter’s kisses on the other hand were short and passionate. His lips planted playful pecks all along your back, following your spine down to the small of your back.

“Can I kiss you there?”, he asked in a slightly excited tone. You answered positively and his hands began to knead the flesh of your butt, jiggling your fat without any sign of discomfort. He definitely had a preference for your butt and there was nothing sexier for him than your ass bouncing, especially when you were sitting on him.

Miguel, on the other side, was busy pleasuring other parts of your body. His large hands squeezed your breasts, making sure you were agreeing to this. The sight of your chest bouncing against his rough palm always turned him on. The two men kept kissing, licking and worshiping your body, moving lower and lower. Things were escalating between the three of you. Peter began to tease your butt, dragging one finger along the curve of your bottom, watching with delight your flesh moving along his movement. He then tease your hole, dragging his fingers along it up and down, not penetrating you yet. Miguel’s fingers cupped your mound and he groaned when your wetness touched his fingers.

Each one of your lovers sit around you, their hands meeting on your sides in a heated embrace. Peter’s tongue teased your butt, licking around your hole, kissing it, letting his saliva getting you ready for more. And when you were lubricated enough, his tongue delved into your hole, not too deep yet, just enough to make you whine and whimper. You leaned forward, your body hunched under the weight of your arousal. This movement pushed your cunt further against Miguel’s face. His tongue delved between your folds and he sucked your clitoris, just like you did with his tip.

Your body writhed in ecstasy as you get more and more turned on, almost overstimulated by all this attention your were getting. Every one of your moans was like music for your lover’s ears and when your moans became louder and your voice took a higher-pitch, they knew they had you just where they wanted to.

Once you reached your orgasm, Miguel’s arms hold you close to him and he kissed your midriff in an affectionate way while Peter moved a few pillows under the bed, making a comfortable nest for the three of you. Miguel helped you lay down the bed while you caught your breath and the three of you spend the rest of the night curled up together, with your limbs intertwined tightly.

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I tried something a little different with that one, I hope you enjoyed it !