#it’s so I can leave it out to dry later and even out the fabric and alter the shape of the garment a bit

[rhiannonsknife]

https://www.tumblr.com/rhiannonsknife/781365481957359616/imagine-fwb-jackie-and-reader-because-jeff-cant

I loved this one so much. The reader being oblivious of the nasty things that Jackie is thinking about her. The reader doing innocent things that unintentionally gets Jackie so turned on. I don’t know I kind of like the idea of Jackie being a little pervert

last thing i wrote during the road trip the other day but forgot to post because i was too tired!! anyway, i was locked in. nsfw content so mdni.

it’s always the stupidest things, which jackie supposes makes it all so much worse. the things you don’t even think about twice, things that mean nothing to you, but jackie can’t stop thinking about. they burrow into her brain and rot there.

take the public pool.

the team had been doing off-season training, and coach thought it’d be “fun” to break things up with a casual pool day. you showed up late, towel slung over your shoulder, sunglasses perched in your hair, wearing a bikini that wasn’t even that revealing. jackie swears to god it was designed to kill her anyway.

you smiled as you walked along the edge of the pool, dripping wet from a rinse under the outdoor shower. water clung to your skin, catching the sunlight as it trickled down the backs of your legs. she caught herself staring at your thighs as you adjusted the waistband, just an innocent tug of the fabric to keep it from riding up that was enough for her to imagine her fingers between your legs.

jackie couldn’t focus for the rest of the day, her suit clung in all the wrong places, and even when she dipped beneath the surface, the heat didn’t leave her.

later, at home, she barely makes it through the front door before locking herself in the bathroom. swimsuit peeled off, jackie braces her hand against the tile and angles herself so the spray hits against her clit. immediately, her head drops forward and the images play without her permission behind her closed eyes.

you, laughing in the sun, droplets on your collarbone. the bounce of your chest when you ran to catch your towel. the perfect, shining stretch of your thighs.

jackie comes fast, biting down on her arm to stay quiet.

and it doesn’t end at the pool.

there’s that time in your kitchen when you lick frosting off your thumb without thinking, mumbling something about taste-testing the cupcakes. jackie has to excuse herself to the bathroom and doesn’t come out for seven minutes.

or the sleepover where you steal her hoodie and tug it on over your tank top and shorts, your bare legs folded beneath you as you laugh at something on the tv screen. jackie spends the whole night pretending she’s not staring, then fakes sleep so she can lie with her eyes open in the dark, picturing her hands sliding up your thighs under the hem of that borrowed sweatshirt.

instead, jackie’s hand moves under the waistband of her own shorts, fingers working as she imagines your body soft under hers. just sitting by your side made her so wet. in her head, you wake up and ask, gently, do you want me to help?

jackie comes with her forehead pressed to her pillow and rides her orgasm out on her fingers, careful not to shift the bed with the frantic movement.

then there’s school. the morning you arrive late, a little out of breath, brushing your hair from your face with an apologetic smile. you drop into the desk beside hers and jackie turns to greet you, only to see the skirt you’re wearing: short, pleated, legs crossed at the knee. her mouth goes too dry to speak and she doesn’t hear a word the teacher says for the rest of the class.

it’s a miracle she doesn’t start drooling or humping the edge of her chair right then and there.

the next day, you wear jeans and jackie feels a mix of relief and deep, perverse disappointment.

and it only gets worse, because it turns out you can’t stop doing things.

you don’t notice her staring. you don’t realize how tense she gets when you lean in to whisper something in her ear. you don’t ask why her voice falters when you call her “babe” as a joke, or why she sometimes won’t hug you back all the way.

jackie knows it’s fucked up, that she’s being a creep. you trust her. you like her, even. yet, every night, she lies awake thinking about how your lip gloss tasted when you let her try it, or how your skirt flipped up when you jumped into her bed after a movie, or the sound of your voice through the phone, late and sleepy and stupid and perfect.

she doesn’t even always touch herself. sometimes she’ll just lie there, fingers clenched in the sheets until her hips are bucking and she’s dripping wetness onto her blankets at the mere thought of you.

[mintbees]

Finished a sweater today so I get the joy of putting it in my bathroom sink to create Soup

^ soup

[puptrefied]

　I personally think vander got used to having quiet, gentle sex and by that I mean grinding through clothes late at night.

doesn't matter the position, he's gonna rub against you and groan into your neck until he cums fully clothed because he doesn't want to risk waking up the kids.

yeah, his underwear and pants end up a mess and so do yours but he can't help it ! if he were to actually fuck you he knows he's gonna be so loud :< like come on, this man is 200cm tall, he is big everywhere which makes having regular sex in secret a bit ( really ) hard.

he's heavy and his movements—as controlled as they can get—are going to make the bed creak anyways; he has tried most positions to help with that issue. doggy? self explanatory, he goes feral. missionary is nice, he gets a full view of how your pussy stretches out to accommodate the thickness of his cock but that makes him lose his mind. sideways will always make the bed move. riding him has an issue similar to missionary, he gets to see and feel you taking him deeper so he can't help but moan loud. ( he's just a man, okay? )

surprisingly it started in a nonsexual situation.

you sitting on his lap, playing with the hair on the back of his head as he stroked your back, nails mindlessly scratching over the fabric of the shirt. comfortable silence in the bedroom as you two cuddled half asleep. he wasn't turned on to begin with, he really planned on holding you close until his mind decided to shut down, but after weeks of no intimacy—both too fucking tired to do more than kisses in bed—a long day at the bar and the kids already asleep leaving you alone… he couldn't resist.

free hand grabbing the plush of your hip to veeeery slowly move you back and forth against his lap, slow enough that it wouldn't ruin the gentle moment. he was a bit worried you'd get mad or something for thinking with his dick in the middle of lovey-dovey time but that quiet hum on his neck and the feeling of you also moving on your own told him enough.

strong arms wrapping around your waist as soon as you take care of the grinding part, holding tight onto you while lazily pressing kisses on the top of your head and whatever place he can reach. he is so clingy he needs to hold you even while fucking. I mean, he has a pretty girl all to himself being a sweetheart, how could he resist?

sure, he wants to feel you wrapped around him all wet and warm for hours but he's more than satisfied with just this for now. ( even if the cum on his boxers isn't so satisfying and pleasurable the next morning once it's dry… )

doesn't matter if now, years later, the kids moved out and powder spends the nights at her hideout more than her own room meaning you both got the house to yourselves. he still needs a little grinding while cuddling every now and then.

“you don't have to stay quiet,” the breathless giggle you let out going straight to his lower belly as he peppers kisses all over your neck and jaw, his hands running up and down your thighs. his own breath arrhythmic at the feeling of you pressing down and moving against his clothed cock, literally makes him throb. the way your body feels even without being naked is heavenly.

“I know,” he groaned into your skin, palm sliding under your shirt to tug you closer. god, how he loves having the love of his life on his lap anytime he wants to. every night, every morning, every evening with no complains. “just...let me enjoy it some more.”

he must have been a damn saint in his previous life to live such a wonderful one today.

masterlist

[pearlymel]

Dandelion

love is in the air.

"These other flowers, don’t grow the same / So just leave it here with me, let’s get dirty, dirty."

warnings: NSFW, MDNI. extremely soft soft husband Sylus x fem reader. there's really no plot, it's just the life of a married couple (plus celebrating his birthday), contains oral (fem rec), dry humping, unprotected, it's just soft, fluff, multiple petnames. 2.8k words.

notes: lyric reference from "dandelion" by Ariana grande. happy birthday to my baby <3

You can feel your hands sweating against Sylus’ as you turn your head around the different departments and stores in the mall.

You pray that he doesn't notice you trying to stay cool while you were dying inside to get his gift.

Sylus guides you to a chic, high-end shopping arcade. It's filled with rows of luxurious stores. Places you're already familiar with.

He guides you through the sea of designer clothes, his thumb occasionally rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

"see anything you like so far?” He begins. you don't look interested enough, he notes. "Why don't you find something that you like, and don't look at the price tag.”

Not now, you weren't here to shop for you.

“I'll be back, stay here.” He watches you dash off with a bemused expression.

This little escapade feels almost like a game. He's not bothered by it, not really. But it almost felt like you were avoiding him all day.

Little did he know you were silent from overthinking of getting something as simple as a gift.

"Don't get into any trouble, sweetie—" he calls out, but he knows you'll be too preoccupied to listen.

He waits there, looking the picture of nonchalant.

—

“honey, stop,”

Honey.

That's a little unfair.

“I was supposed to—” Though Sylus doesn't listen, his tongue laves over your clothed cunt in long, languid strokes.

What did you even do for him to be this eager after coming back from the mall?

“what? Can't have my favorite snack after a long day?” His grip on your wrist tightens just when he senses you were about to push him off.

It's not like you hate it. No, never. It's just you were supposed do something that you completely forgot because of how he's making your head blank.

His teeth then find the hem of your panties. Slowly, he pulls the fabric down, leaving your pussy exposed to his eyes when he spreads your legs further apart.

He takes a moment just to look. And you're almost embarrassed.

He’d call you a work of art, like he always does, but he knows if he does it now while focusing on the wetness smeared on your pussy, you'll be dying from embarrassment.

“don't stare at it,” you pout.

His eyes flick up to your face, and he can’t help smirking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sylus brushes the pad of a finger directly on your clit, and you're immediately shivering.

He circles your bundle of nerves in a slow and soothing way, the type that makes you moan softly while pushing your hips to seek more.

His head dips down, and his tongue quickly replaces his finger, making you gasp as you immediately grab a handful of his hair to tug at.

He continues the onslaught with his mouth, his fingers now sliding through your wet folds and pressing against your entrance. He hears your soft gasp once again, the way your breathing hitches when he pushes one inside—not nearly enough, but it’s all he can give you like this.

“I’ll give you more than this later, be patient. ” He breaks away to murmur against your inner thigh, he sucks in a breath at the way you cry out for him, and presses another finger inside you, pumping them in and out. He wants to hear more of it, every single noise you make, so he returns to teasing your clit with his tongue.

“Oh, sylus, you're being so good for me—”

The words make him feel dizzy—he thrives on praise, the same way that you crave his touch.

His fingers press in deeper, curving just right to stroke the sensitive spot inside you. He’s not going to be gentle at this point; he’s already too far gone, drunk on you.

“Mmhn, faster—” you demand with a whine, and his fingers move to your request, faster, rougher, curling just right against that sensitive spot and—

Ding dong.

Your eyes shoot open, you're both suddenly interrupted by the doorbell leading to the entry of the manor, loud voices coming from the entrance.

Damn it all to hell. The twins.

Right, you remember the thing you wanted to do, you were going to bake with them since everyday is of this month (April) is their boss man's birthday.

Sylus wants you, desperately, and the last thing he needs right now is company, especially their company.

—

The house is quiet, finally quiet.

Sylus stands back from his desk, staring down at a pile of documents strewn across the wood. But he’s not reading a single thing.

He’s frustrated, but not for the usual reasons. Just thinking about earlier (before you were interrupted), it makes him hard again.

—

Your idea of help to ease his stress is definitely… interesting

He’s standing between your legs, eyes watching your furrowed eyebrows, your face is nothing but focused as you glide the razor across his jaw.

How adorable.

Sylus was in the middle of shaving after a long night, but of course, you insisted on sitting on the sink to “help out.”

no, you weren't helping. Sylus wanted to get rid of his hard on by doing something else and letting you relax. You basically walked into his trap.

He can't help but lean into your hands, eyes slightly closed as you finish up shaving the last bits right above his lips. You then grab a towel to pat dry the remaining foam on his face.

“you're all fresh for your upcoming birthday,” you comment, followed by leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

A kiss greets your cheek back from his own lips, “I have you to thank for that, apparently.”

He pulls back, giving you a playful smirk. “I suppose I’ll look pretty for you then, won’t I?”

You grin back, “you're like prince charming, annoyingly handsome,”

A snort escapes him before he can help it. He looks at your face, trying to look serious but failing completely.

“I prefer to be a dragon keeping you in the top of my tower, so that prince charming can't reach you, princess.”

Oh, that sounds hot alright.

You're both laughing after a moment of silence, Sylus buries his face on your shoulder while he holds you close to him. my precious.

—

it's midnight before you realize it, his birthday.

Sylus shivers under your touch, tilting his head into your hand at once like an obedient dog. An obedient dragon, perhaps—but a tamed one. Or, well. A semi-tamed one.

"You don't need to worry," he whispers, "I'll be gentle with you,"

You melt at his reassuring words, even while he promises he'll behave, his hands wander a little. Sliding up beneath your nightgown.

“I prepared a gift for you,” you say as you continue caressing his face, “but you'll receive it in the morning. At our garden.”

It took effort to not throw you back onto the bed and devour you then and there. You and your sweet, kind words, your sweet and kind touches.

Sylus chuckles, "I appreciate the thought, sweetie," he hums, his voice rough and low. "But this is all I want for my birthday."

His fingers trail higher, teasing the edge of your underwear and sending heat straight to your core.

His hand wanders higher, gently rubbing against the dampening fabric of your underwear. all the while, his eyes remain locked on yours. "Is this all for me?" he murmurs, "All this excitement, this anticipation...?”

A soft grunt escapes his lips when you suddenly climb into his lap, his hands automatically coming to rest on your sides.

Your thighs on either side of his thighs, your arms around his neck. The weight of you, the warmth of you, it's driving him insane.

Your lips are over his, and he returns the kiss eagerly, one hand winding in your hair, the other roaming across your skin to settle on the small of your back.

You're so close, so close that you both can't help but grind against each other impatiently. He groans your name, his hips instinctively bucking up to meet yours, desperate to feel even more of you.

"Sweetie,"

“I love you, pretty boy,” you whisper in between short kisses, and a lopsided grin spreads across his face at your words, his heart giving a little flutter in spite of the heat of the moment.

“love you too, my jewel,” he whispers just before his mouth captures yours in another deep, passionate kiss.

He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down the column of your throat, Sylus nips and licks his way down your body, pulling down your nightgown just enough until your pretty breasts are in display for him.

gorgeous, Sylus thinks as he leans down to take one nipple into his mouth, suckling greedily while you whine from the stimulation as his hand kneads the other breast.

“Sylus—” your fingers tug at his hair when you felt his teeth graze the sensitive peak, and he releases your breast with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your damp nipple.

You're in a daze, and before you know it, he's lifting your hips up to gently lay you back on the mattress and unbuckle his belt, to free his aching cock from it's tight confinements.

He rocks his hips forward, grinding the tip of his cock over your slick folds, teasing your clit before pushing just slightly inside you then pulling back out.

Sylus huffs out a breathy chuckle when he watches how you try to take more of his inches, yet he continues teasing you again and again, without giving you what you need.

Finally, he rolls his hips slowly, the thick head of his cock parting your folds, slipping inside you with a low groan. He took his time, inch by inch, letting you feel every throb of his length sinking into you, stretching you around him.

When he was finally fully sheathed inside you, he paused, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingling with your own. One hand slid down to your belly, cupping the gentle curve, his thumb tracing the line where your bodies joined.

“Oh, you feel incredible.”

“i-I do?”

Sylus raises a brow just slightly before he gives you a slow, deep roll of his hips, grinding his pelvis against yours, and this man moans out just for you to hear.

“does this answer your question, pretty girl?”

His hand then slides down to your knee, pushing it up and back towards your chest until your thigh was draped over his shoulder, opening you even wider to him.

Your nails scratch at his chest, you feel like you're above the clouds, but at the same time it feels like you're on fire.

You hiss when he starts to move faster, his strokes growing longer and harder, each thrust pushing you up the bed slightly. The new angle let him hit that secret spot deep inside you with every drive of his hips, and you couldn't help but cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“C-careful,” Sylus almost stops at your plea. Instead, he slows his thrusts before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “i’ve got you, beloved.” he doesn't question anything, he'd rather listen to you and do it without questioning it.

Sylus grinds his pelvis against yours, rubbing your clit firmly as he buries himself balls-deep inside your spasming cunt.

He feels your body go rigid, then—he senses you shudder violently as your orgasm crashes over you, wave of pure, unadulterated bliss radiating out from your core, and you almost feel relaxed.

your walls clench around his length, milking his own impending release. Sylus slots his lips over yours messily as he finds his own release, his cock pulsing as he pumps stream of thick, hot cum deep into your still fluttering pussy.

Though, he doesn't stop afterwards, he continues overstimulating himself, slowly grinding his softening cock into you while you both moan and whimper into each other's lips.

you both stay still, and he gives your cheek one last kiss, “is my wife sleepy?”

“… happy birthday.”

“thank you, dearest.”

—

As you stepped outside, you couldn't help but appreciate the perfect weather; the sun shined gently in the sky, a light breeze passed through the garden. It was as if the sun was setting up a romantic scene.

Sylus let out a soft hum of contentment when the picnic setup comes to view, a small twitch of surprise on his face. His gaze immediately went to yours, a subtle smile tugging on his lips.

"You did this? For me?" He asked, raising his eyebrows somewhat as he gently pulled you closer to him by the waist.

"happy birthday!"

your husband definitely didn't expect to be tackled to the ground, but he couldn't stop the wide grin on his face as you rolled both of you down. He lands on the soft grass with a soft thump, his hands landing on your waist to stabilize you both.

"You little-" Sylus' words are cut off when he feels you hands cupping his face, his expression softens, it’s like you could almost see his eyes sparkle.

he couldn't help but close his eyes instinctively when you started showering his face with soft, gentle kisses. He let out a light laugh at the feeling of your lips. The subtle feeling of the leaves falling from the trees above you and landing on you both added to the atmosphere, and Sylus felt a strange sense of peace wash over him. Opening his eyes, he looked at you, “you’re beautiful.”

you grin, “thank you, handsome.”

The grass beneath you was soft, almost like a bed of feathers.

"come," you stand up to take Sylus' hands in yours, guiding him towards the little set up.

As you reached the blanket on the grass, he sits down to lean back, and his eyes roams over the food that was laid out.

"You went all out, huh? Did you plan all this by yourself?" He asked, still somewhat not believing that this scene was set up for his birthday.

"anything for you," you clear your throat, sitting right in front of him with a box on your lap, “food or gift first?”

you seem even more excited than he is, which makes him pretty excited. "The gift, then. You didn't really expect me to choose food over your present, did you?” Sylus chuckled as he watched you excitedly handing him the small box, "… Should I be worried that you're going to burst from excitement?”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms as if to silently tell him open it already.

He lifts the lid off.

... And he contents of the box was not what he expected, as it only had two items.

a onesie. And baby shoes next to it.

His expression went blank as he stared at the two items: the onesie and the baby shoes. For a moment, he was completely speechless, unable to process what he was looking at, then slowly, he lifted his gaze to look at you, his wide eyes filled with bewilderment.

"Are you—” He could only manage to say the first two words, but the rest got caught in his throat.

at first, you were smiling at the anticipation of what his reaction might be, but your expression falls when you sense his face pale slightly.

before you could even ask him what’s wrong, he turns to you, “did i hurt you last night? did i press anywhere too hard? did i—”

you wrap your arms around his neck as a gesture of reassurance, Sylus couldn't help but bury his face in your shoulder, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him completely. He wrapped his own arms around you, holding you tight, as if trying to anchor himself in the reality of this moment.

“i’m perfectly fine, hon. don’t worry.” you try soothing him, your hand rubbing his back.

“you’re pregnant.” His voice was soft and shaky as he spoke, his words muffled by your skin. "I can't believe it."

“don’t cry.” you tease, and he couldn't help but let out another small laugh, his heart swells with affection. He held you just a bit tighter, a small smile on his face.

A family. You're expecting. You're going to be parents. Oh god, now he has to make sure the house is safe for the baby.

This is truly, the best gift he has ever received.

"We're going to be three," he says in awe, the words bringing joy and pride to him. He leaned in, his forehead gently touching yours, "You, me, and our little one.”

Sylus might not be crying this time, but when he holds his little one for the first time, his emotions might betray him.

[ashes-of-rozes]

When It Happened to Me

Relationships: Jason Todd x FEM!Reader

Warning(s): torture, scars, medical inaccuracies

“…by! Baby!”

You’re jerked awake, panic and fear instantly filling your veins. Warm, gloved hands cup your face, “Hey, look at me?” Your eyes snap up, meeting a familiar red helmet. “Ja…son?” The word is cracked, throat sore and deprived of water for days. A soft, muffled sound and then his helmet is coming off and you can catch his eyes.

A beautiful blue. Yet darker with fear and worry when they look at you. Gloved hands gently touch your face and you wince. Your body aches. Everywhere. Breathing hurts. Blinking around dry eyes. He immediately removed his hand and you whine, missing his touch. Even if it was painful.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, reaching above you to quickly and efficiently remove your bindings, “I’m getting you out of here.” Less than a minute later, the last knot is undone. Arms weak, feet hanging above the ground— you fall. Jason catches you instantly. You can’t help the pained whine that leaves your throat but you lean in closer to him. Ignoring the pain.

Jason’s here.

You’re okay.

“It’s raining,” he whispers, voice soft. He’s always soft for you. The next thing you know his jacket is draped over you like a blanket it. The leather wet, but the fabric still holding his previous body heat. Your eyes fall heavy again.

He kisses your forehead. Soft. Barely felt. But no less caring than every other one. “Stole the Batmobile,” he mumbles, “You’ll be comfortable in the back. You can heal properly back at the cave.” A soft noise of protest is all you can manage.

You just want him to take you back home. Let your fiancé bathe you, feed you, and then sleep. Who cares about all your injuries? Jason’s all that matters. But you barely managed to say his name without crying out in pain. So no arguing.

Your eyes are heavy and closed. Your soul floating just out of your body as you let the sounds of distant sirens and the soft patter of rain drown you. It feels wonderful.

Your body is in constant pain but it’s dulled under the water from the sky. Each drop hurts. But at the same time, you feel nothing but warm Gotham-polluted water.

A soft click and then Jason’s gently laying you down across the warmed up black leather seats.

Seat warmers, you think distantly, letting yourself be maneuvered. Once you’re secure enough for your finances liking, Jason kisses your bare, injured ankle and gently closes the door. The warmth from the heater, Jason’s jacket and the leather seats lulled you to sleep.

⌑ ⌑ ⌑

When you open your eyes again, bright fluorescent lights are shinning above you.

A groan escaped your lip and you immediately close your eyes again.

“How are you feeling?” That’s Tim’s voice.

“Like I got tortured for a week,” you mumble, slowly sitting up, ignoring the pain. “Welcome to the club,” he mumbles. Slowly, head pointed at the ground, you flutter your eyes open. The light stings but it’s temporary compared to the rest of the pain.

You look around, noticing you’re in the cave’s med-bay. Jason’s passed out at the foot of the bed. Tim’s in the corner of the room, typing away on his laptop. “How long has he been like this,” you ask, voice still rough. Throat still dry. “He hasn’t slept since you were taken,” Tim says, “Passed out pretty much the moment Alfred said you’d be okay. Hasn’t moved in almost a day.”

Guilt slammed into you.

“And you,” you ask, “Why are you here?”

Tim finally stops typing on the laptop, looking up at you.

Sometimes you think all of Bruce’s sons are genetically related. They all get the exact same look when they don’t want to talk about their feelings.

“Bruce is taking up the rest of the cave—“

“Tim,” you interrupt. He stares at you with that same look for minutes. He looks guilty. Embarrassed, almost. Ashamed, definitely. “I should’ve found you sooner,” he says, closing the laptop and running a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry.” “Why are you sorry,” you ask. “If I found you sooner maybe you wouldn’t be— Jason could’ve—“ He paused. “I have one job. To track down what goes missing. And yet …”

You smile. Sad. Painful. It hurts to lift your lips. “Tim, it’s not your fault. You look dead. Please tell me you got more sleep than Jason?” Tim blinks and looks away. “Go,” you scold softly, “Bed.”

“But—“

“Bed, Timothy.”

He sighs and reluctantly stands, heading towards the door.

“Tim?”

He pauses, looking over his shoulder and back at you. “Thank you. For finding me.” Tim returns the smile, soft and tired and walks out.

“He’s actually going to bed.”

You jump, eyes falling in the source of the voice. Jason’s eyes are still closed but there’s a soft, content smile on his lips. “I knew I wanted to marry you for a reason,” he mumbles. He sits up slowly, eyes falling on your bandages, your bruises. His hand finds yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“How ya feeling,” he asks. “I’ve definitely felt better,” you smile reassuringly, “Could go for a glass of water. Or gallon. Or tank. Which ever is easiest.” He laughs and stands, leaning over to kiss your forehead, “I’ll be right back.”

Jason’s lingers a moment longer before slowly exiting the room. Reluctant to let you out of his sight. Even now. Even safe.

He comes back a few moments later with a glass of water and a pitcher. He hands you the water which you take with almost greedy hands. He smiles, running his fingers through your hair as you chug down the cold liquid inside. “Easy, ma,” he whispers, “Alfred said your throat will be sore for a while…”

His hand falls to his side.

“Jay…”

He sighs, slumping back in the seat at the foot of your bed, “I’m sorry.” You frown, setting down the water. “I should’ve,” he swallows and you can see the tears in his eyes, “I should’ve been with you.” He was. The night you were taken, you and him planned to have dinner together but Dick needed help. “There’s no way you could’ve known what was going to happen,” you try to reassure.

“We live in Crime Alley! It’s right there in the name,” he shouts, voice shaking. “Two years, love. And nothing like this has happened—“

“I got comfortable. I let my guard down,” he stands up so fast the chair clatters to the floor, “And you paid the price for it!” He’s spiraling again. He groans, running his fingers through his hair, tears of anger and self-hatred streaming down his face, “This is all my fault. You’re not safe with me! Maybe we should postpone the wedding or—“

You rip out your I.V. and pull off the patches on your chest. The monitor flatlines. Jason’s gaze is on you immediately, panicked. There’s just enough adrenaline in your veins for your legs to not shake when you stand.

“No— lay back down,” he takes a step forward, reaching out for you. “Jason,” he gently take his outstretched hand, “I am marrying you.”

“Ma—“

“Do you love me,” you ask. Jason looks offended, “More than anything.” The tension in your muscles ease a little. “I want to marry you,” you say, “This doesn’t change a thing.” “It should,” he gently squeezes your hand, “You should hate me.”

“I don’t,” you insist, “This wasn’t your fault. Or Tim’s. Or anyone else who is blaming themselves. It was horrible but it was not your fault.” Jason blinks, tears slowing down. He steps closer, wrapping his arms around you, “I’m so lucky to have you in my life.” You return the hug, arms shaky and weak but determined to hold him.

“I love you, future Mrs. Todd,” he mumbles into your neck.

“I love you too.”

⌑ ⌑ ⌑

Epilogue:

Jason’s hands were on you the second you stood in front of him.

His thumb gently brushed across your wrist, where scar tissue circled all around. You smile. Jason loves the scars you gained. Worships them.

“The veil,” you whisper. Jason blinks and shakes his head, smiling. He lets go of your wrists and lifts the veil. He brushes his knuckle across the scar on your neck, smiling.

Tim clears his throat, “Jason. Hands to yourself.” Jason glares at his brother, “She’s my wife—“

“Not until I’m done. Hands to yourself,” Tim smirks, smug. Jason scoffs but complies.

Tim goes through the officiating process.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Jason cups your face with one hand, the other on the small of your back and bends you down, lips crashing against yours.

As your dress falls to the ground that night and Jason is on you instantly. He doesn’t stop till the sun comes up. And only then it’s a break. And then he’s on your again.

Praising you. Loving you. Worshipping you.

Yeah. This was the right choice.

masterlist

[rafesangelita]

♡ what was supposed to be a fun evening with sarah, turned into a fun evening with rafe instead..

warnings: best friend’s brother, heavyyy flirting, teasing, tiny game of truth or dare, heavy petting, slight dry humping, unprotected sex, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

a/n: mini series masterlist can be found here. all notes and reblogs are deeply appreciated!

wc: 2.7k

[7:13 PM] sarah <3: sorry babes something came up so i won’t be back home till later. i’ll see you!

you stared down at the text, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. so much for watching the sunset on the druthers. you typed a quick response, about to turn around and make your way back home before the front door opened. “you trying to break in, y/n?” rafe gave you a once-over, his eyes lingering on your slightly exposed cleavage. you swallowed, shaking your head. “no, i was just leaving actually.” you smiled softly, your cheeks heating at his intimidating stare.

“why don’t you stay?” he moved over, pushing the door wide open. “i better not, sarah isn’t here-” he stepped out. “she never is, she’s too busy playing poor girl on the other side of the island.” you raised your eyebrows at this. “what do you mean?” you laughed, giving him your full attention. rafe gasped, obviously taunting you at how clueless you were. “she didn’t tell you? she’s seeing some guy named john b and hanging out with all of his friends,” rafe leaned in, “kie included.” he towered over you, the height difference enough to make any girl blush.

focusing back on his words, you were quick to shut him down. “her and kie haven’t talked in years, that makes no sense? and she’s with topper, why on earth would she be seeing someone else?” without telling me about it, you wanted to add. “beats me.” he shrugged, swinging an arm around your shoulders, walking both of you inside. “what did you two have planned?” he kicked the door shut, leading you to the living room. “uhm, we were gonna watch the sun go down on the druthers.” you put your backpack down, rafe taking a seat in front of you.

“that’s the girliest shit i ever heard.” you rolled your eyes, stepping away from him. “of course you’d say that, your idea of fun includes getting drunk and jumping off rooftops.” rafe threw his head back in laughter. “look at you! if i would’ve known you had a mouth on you, i’d provoke you more.” you couldn’t help laughing along, shaking your head as you looked down at your phone. “well it’s kind of pointless now, the sun sets in like fifteen minutes,” you sighed, “i’m gonna head out now, tell sarah to give me a call?” rafe stopped you just as you were picking up your bag.

“i could take you on the druthers..” you paused, quickly declining. “no, don’t worry about it! me and sarah could always save it for another day.” you waved him off, rafe shooting up from the couch. taking your bag from the floor, you followed rafe outside, who ignored every advance of yours to get your bag back. “rafe! really it’s fine please give me my stuff.” you two walked down the dock, rafe turning around to face you. “sarah isn’t going to uphold any plans with you, just get on the boat.” he stepped on first, extending a hand.

“will you give me my bag if i do?” you watched as rafe tossed it behind him. “yeah, but you’re going to have to get on in order to get it.” you smiled, your heart racing as your eyes danced with his shiny blue ones. you took his hand, jumping onto the boat. rafe held onto you a couple seconds longer before starting it up. you’ve been on the druthers plenty of times before, your favorite spot being on the deck, out looking the water. you two fell into a comfortable silence as rafe guided the boat further out, the wind blowing through your hair.. and a little through your sundress.

you looked up, rafe not moving his eyes from where you sat. a part of you felt like you’d regret this later, but you couldn’t find it in you to care enough. slowly bunching up the fabric of your dress, you shivered as it slipped down your hips, and soon enough down your legs. obviously, you were wearing a bikini underneath, but it didn’t stop rafe from swiping his bottom lip with his tongue. minutes later, rafe stepped down, the boat coasting slowly in the marsh. “i guess this isn’t so bad.” rafe grabbed a beer from inside the deck, taking the cap off with his teeth.

“you want one?” he gestured the bottle towards you, scoffing when you shook your head. “that’s gross, no thanks.” you crossed your arms over your chest, your profound confidence dwindling away with each second he stood next to you. as if sensing how shy you were becoming, he handed you the beer, discarding his shirt, revealing to you his perfect physique. god, this was so wrong. here you were, with your best friends brother, both of you in nothing but flimsy pieces of clothing, watching the sunset. “just take a sip.” he sat down, pulling you next to him. “rafe-” he cut you off, “come on, what can one swig do?” he leaned in, his breath fanning your cheeks.

“come on, for me?” that should’ve been the last possible reason to drink, but you found yourself doing it anyways, immediately clearing your throat of the bitter taste. rafe laughed, taking a drink right after you. maybe it was because your lips were just wrapped around the same rim, but watching rafe drink from the same glass as you made your stomach flip in excitement. drawing your attention away from him, you looked at the sky, the orange and purple hues casting a beautiful glow out on the water. “sarah’s missing out right now.” you heard rafe say. “i know, it’s beautiful out here.” you smiled.

“yeah, it is.” he kept his eyes on you, his fingers coming out to move your hair out of your face. you glanced at him, taking the beer. “i guess we could share it now.” you shrugged. he nodded, his hand settling on your thigh. you don’t know why you felt like a giddy school girl talking to her crush for the first time, because you definitely weren’t, you were just two years younger than rafe. “truth or dare?” rafe leaned in closer now, his breath fanning your neck. going with the safe option as always, rafe shook his head when you muttered ‘truth’.

“you’re boring.” he tilted his head at you as you hit his shoulder playfully. “no, i’m not. there’s just not many dares you can do on a boat.” you laughed. rafe took his time admiring your rather soft features. he liked the natural shape of your cupid’s bow on your lips, he especially liked how flustered you became once you caught him staring. “there’s a lot of things you can do on a boat.” his voice dropped a few octaves, your breath stuttering lightly. rafe wasn’t a stranger, you knew where he was heading with this, but you didn’t want him to stop.

“okay.. dare.” you watched rafe’s eyes light up, your chest swelling with pride. he looked around, “i dare you to show me what you have in your bag.” rafe watched you get up, staring at your ass when you bent down to grab your backpack from the corner. “alright..” you unzipped it slowly, plopping it down on his lap. “charger, toothbrush, hair brush, pajamas, socks-” rafe grabbed something at the bottom, holding them up to you. “and these?” he ran his thumb over the pink lace, a smug grin adorning his lips. “rafe!” you screamed, reaching out to snatch your underwears.

he got up, putting his arm in the air so you couldn’t reach them. jumping while wearing a bikini that barely did anything to support your tits wasn’t the smartest idea, but neither was letting rafe hold your panties. “rafe, seriously!” you laughed, both of you stumbling inside the lower part of the boat. he pushed you softly, enough for you to flop down on the couch with a huff. holding your face in your hands, you sighed in defeat. “this is embarrassing, please give them back.” rafe replied with a quick, ‘alright, alright.’ before making you look up at him. stuffing the lacy material in his pocket, he got closer to you, your face practically lined up with his waistline.

“get them.” rafe’s stared at you intensely as you hesitantly reached into his pocket, your heart pounding at the compromising position. refusing to look straight ahead at his navel, you closed your eyes, pausing when you felt the slight touch of something really hard. rafe hissed, his hand cupping your chin aggressively. “i-i’m sorry!” you attempted to get up, rafe pushing you down before you could go anywhere. “i know you’re not stupid,” he hovered above you, his large arms caging you in. “i didn’t mean to,” you scrambled, trying to get your words out so you didn’t look like such a mess.

“i was just trying to-”

“i wanted you to do that.” rafe ran a finger down your jaw, pecking your chin as you rubbed your thighs together at his revelation. “what?” you looked up at him, doe eyed and flustered. “what?” he mocked your voice, laughing darkly. “do you really think i’m gonna fall for that innocent shit?” rafe shook his head. “what are you talking about?” playing dumb was the last bit of reserve you had left. without warning, he cupped your pussy, making you let out a yelp as he pushed your bottoms to the side to run his fingers between your folds. “this is what i’m talking about.” rafe held up his fingers, your wetness glistening under the soft yellow lighting of the boat.

“you don’t have to be ashamed about it.” you watched as rafe took his fingers into his mouth. “sweet just like i thought.” he licked his lips. “i like this too, can’t you feel what you’re doing to me?” rafe ground his short-clad erection right where you needed him most, both of you moaning at the friction. like an icecream cone in the middle of summer, you felt yourself melting away into nothing as rafe trailed kisses up your neck, finally settling on your lips. you were hesitant, but kissed him back nonetheless, your hands coming up to rest on both sides of his face.

“wait,” you stopped him, “we can’t do this rafe.” the guilt was already eating you alive, what kind of best friend were you?. “says who?” he adjusted himself between your legs, leaning his weight on your lower half. your eyes fluttered shut, your clit pressing against the bulge in his cargo’s. “if this is about sarah, you shouldn’t have to worry about nothing, do you really think she’d care after all this time? she’s focused elsewhere.” he whispered in your ear, stroking your hair as he did so. “don’t worry about her, alright?” you nodded, all self control leaving your body once rafe pulled down the flimsy straps of your top, revealing the prettiest set of tits he’s ever seen.

“fuck,” he sat back on his heels admiring you underneath him, “how come we haven’t done this sooner?” he picked up your leg, landing a kiss on your ankle. fingers working at the strings of your bottoms, you couldn’t help shying away from him now that you were fully naked before him. “getting shy?” you watched with labored breaths as rafe unbuttoned his shorts, swallowing nervously when you saw his cock straining against his boxers. “no,” you whispered, sitting up to kiss him again. your heart beamed when you felt him smile against your lips, both of you moving eagerly as he pulled you onto his lap, dragging your hips against his hard on.

rafe couldn’t believe this was finally happening. one day, you were his sister’s best friend, strictly off limits, and now that sarah pretty much fucked up your friendship, he had you practically writhing with need. “please,” hearing you beg for his cock was rafe’s new favorite song, the urge to fuck you to tears becoming this primal desire. he didn’t care that he didn’t have any condoms, and he liked that you didn’t seem to care either. pulling you against his chest, rafe wrapped an arm around your waist, the other hand guiding himself to your entrance.

“you sure?” he gazed into your eyes, waiting for any kind of hesitation. answering his question, you lowered yourself onto his cock, gasping at the unfamiliar stretch. rafe cursed, both of you staying still for a moment. “you feel so fucking good,” he blinked, looking up at the ceiling as you took hold of his shoulders, leaving kisses on his chest until you clenched around him, a strangled sound leaving his mouth. “please fuck me, rafe.” you whined, your head falling onto his shoulder. with a kiss to your temple, he held you in place, thrusting up into you. you cried out, rafe grunting with every stroke of your soaked pussy.

you couldn’t imagine how ridiculous you probably looked right now. with rafe fucking you at an unforgiving pace, you felt like you’d bounce off of him at any moment. “goddamnit, y/n,” he slowed down, his chest falling and rising with each breath, “i don’t think i ever want to stop.” rafe laughed, his tongue circling around your nipple, the added pleasure making you mewl. “l-let me-” you couldn’t get the rest of the words out, instead you got up, pushing rafe down so he was laying flat on the couch. “what are you- fuck!” you sunk onto him once more, riding him as his eyebrows knitted together.

“you’re killing me right now.” his nails dug into your thighs, the pain shooting straight to your core. pushing your weight on his chest, you kept a steady rhythm, looking down at rafe as he watched your cunt swallow him whole. “rafe, i’m close!” you winced, your clit hitting his pubic bone. he flipped you over, pinning your thighs down in order to pound into you even deeper. your eyes rolled back at the sudden pressure you felt, the foreign feeling making you lose your breath.

“wait i have to pee,” you tried to push rafe away but he shushed you, splaying a hand over your lower stomach, “no you don’t.” rafe began rubbing circles on your clit, your orgasm hitting you all at once. your mouth was open but there was no sound coming out, the only indication being the violent shaking of your legs. you reached out for rafe, a scream leaving your lips as he continued his movements, rubbing your clit even faster now. “look down, pretty girl, look at the mess you made.” your vision was blurry but you listened to him nonetheless, his lower half dripping with your juices.

“i’m sorry.” you whimpered, your voice shaky as overstimulation started setting in. rafe leaned down, kissing you harshly, “don’t apologize for that.” he shook his head. “hurts, rafe.” he laced his fingers with yours. “give me one more baby, i’m so close.” your eyes welled up with tears, your hips moving to meet his thrusts. with rafe hitting that soft spot inside you, it didn’t take long before you both came together, his face buried in your neck. you stayed in the same position for what felt like forever, trying to catch your breath.

“you okay?” he kissed your shoulder, running his hand down your side. “yes, i’m alright.” you smiled, both of you wincing as he pulled out. “i don’t think i could move.” you turned around, both of you blinking lazily. “well.. we don’t really have to go anywhere.” he leaned in, kissing you softly. you let him pull you close, his warmth providing you comfort. “no, but,” you looked down, “i need to clean up.” your cheeks flushed. “yeah? so do i.” you were brought back to earlier, embarrassment sinking in. “rafe i never did that before, i told you i was sorry!” you hid your face from him.

“why are you apologizing? that just means i did something right.” he got up, grabbing the long forgotten panties from the pocket of his discarded shorts. “i guess these came in handy, huh?” he walked over to you. “come on, let’s shower. we’ll share another beer and look at the stars afterwards, sound good?” he pulled you up, your legs feeling like jelly. giving him a grin, he looked at you expectedly. “well?” rafe supported you against his large frame.

“that’s the girliest shit i ever heard.” you mocked him from earlier, bursting out into laughter as he dragged you to the small bathroom.

[venusbyline]

What are your thoughts on somnoph*lia? 👀

Cause I personally can see Aemond doing this to his older sister, more than Aegon (he too, would get too excited and wake his older sister up)

Like Aemond would creep into her room and at first be too afraid to do something else than just pulling her nightgown down her chest and looking, but then he'll get bolder, maybe even slipping some poppy's milk on her big sister's water just to make sure he can have more fun (like finally tasting her)

I can also see Jace doing that, but just as Aegon, would grow bold too quickly and wake his sister up.

Omfgggg now I'm having so many horny thoughts cuz I saw the vision 🤭🤭 somnophilia is one of my fav kinks, and non-con somnophilia is one of my favorite things to write and read too!!!

⚠️: Targcest (younger brother/older sister), non-con somnophilia, rape/non-con, voyeurism, inappropriate use of milk of the poppy, virginity kink, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, oral sex (female receiving), dry humping, spoons position, missionary position.

Out of the three of them, Aemond is probably the one who would take somnophilia more literally. He would do everything he could to make sure his older sister would not wake up in the middle of the act, both because he is genuinely turned on by the idea of tasting her while she sleeps, but also because he does not want her to find out what a freaky pervert he is. And he does all of this little by little.

He always puts milk of the poppy in her drink before she goes to sleep, because Aemond is a gentle brother and always brings something for his older sister to eat and drink before the two of them went to their respective chambers. He is such a sweet younger brother, despite being quiet and reserved, that she did not even suspect that she was being fooled by him all those days.

Aemond started by telling himself that he just wanted to look. Then during the first night, after he was sure his sister was completely asleep, he just untied her white nightgown enough to expose her breasts. He looked at her as if she were the most beautiful painting in the world and started to jerking off, taking so much care not to let out any loud groans. From the third night on, Aemond felt kinda bolder, he opened that part of the fabric and also lifted her nightgown's skirt up, turning his sister's body to the front and admiring the golden hairs of her cunt. He knew she was a maiden, a true demure lady... So Aemond caressed there meticulously, his long thin fingers rubbing her clit until it was swollen and sticky, his hand lowering to her entrance, inserting one finger and more one later, moving them with slowness, but firmly enough to make her let out low unconscious whimpers. Sometimes Aemond managed to eat her out if she was already tired enough to even move in the sleep.

Whenever his older sister woke up the next day and joined the family for breakfast, Aemond's eyes were fixed on her and how the pretty girl always seemed to be in pain. Sometimes, he could even listen to her whispering to Helaena about the random pain in her lower parts, and Helaena would just frown and stared at Aemond with obvious suspicious. The younger one always just shrugged as if nothing had happened... after all, no one but him had ever believed in Helaena's revelatory dreams.

Aegon is Aegon, he is a self-confessed pervert and would not even try to give her milk of the poppy or anything to help her get sleepier and weaker. He simply invaded his older sister's private chambers at night, probably because he was drunk and still horny after the usual fun at the brothel, feeling more impulsive to satisfy his disgusting desire.

He took off his own clothes and lay down next to her, lifting the girl's nightgown and rubbing himself against her ass, his large hand leaving red marks from squeezing the soft skin of her breasts after he pulled them out.

Aegon wanted his sister to wake up. He wanted her to see how perverted he was, he wanted her to know how much he desired her. That was why he did not even care when the girl opened her eyes in panic. Aegon just covered her mouth from behind, telling her to be quiet and pretending to be a loving brother while he kissed her neck and whispered words of comfort before finally thrusting inside her.

Jace is a noble boy, or at least that is what everyone thinks. At least that was what he told himself before breaking into his older sister's chambers. He tried to convince himself that he was not a pervert. He tried to convince himself that his sister would actually like all of that. After all, they are betrothed to each other, he was just... Watching what will be rightfully his.

To be honest, Jacaerys did not remember the milk of the poppy too. It was an impulsive decision that he should have discarded right away, but then it was too late. He was kinder than Aegon, though. He leans in to check out his sister's body, enjoying the sight of her chest and her pretty little cunt in the moonlight streaming through the window, and then... He messed everything up.

He was so inexperienced, too eager. Jace knew he should have started slowly, savoring her unconsciousness little by little. However, the moment he rubbed the tip of his rosy and needy cock against her still-dry cunt, he realized how much fucked up he was. Her eyes were wide with fear and Jacaerys had to tearfully beg his older sister not to tell their mother. He was not a pervert, right?

[sinstear]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤꨄ IT’S A BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

tags; fingering (v!receiving), begging, sub!vi kinda, loser!vi fr, there’s not many warnings except vi thinking about you while fucking herself honestly. an: smut sigh, so deeply sorry ... dedicate this lil fic to you for your birthday even though it’s kinda bad but, i do hope that you enjoy it though, and have the best birthday ever. i love you, @vifilms 🤍🩷

bestfriend!vi has been in love with you for years, never once admitting said feelings whenever you ask her if she likes or has an interest in anyone, will avoid the subject fully with a scoff and a not really, don’t have time for that excuse and never let you ask again for the rest of the night. 

tonight was something usual, you worked, you went home to shower, and then you met up with vi an hour later. taking her out for something to eat, something best friends do right? violet was used to that, you randomly spoiling her, but that didn’t mean the butterflies in her stomach went away. in fact they were there all the time, even when you weren’t with her. she only had to think about your handsome smile, the sound of your infectious laugh and the look of mischief on your face when you’d both annoy a waiter to the point they politely ask you to leave if you’re both going to cause mayhem. vi was used to it all. 

what she wasn’t used to was the fact even when you’re not together, she can still feel you. she can still smell the pinewood perfume on her clothes that you wore; no matter if she’s taken a shower. she can still feel your hand holding hers to drag her through a crowded space, the feeling of your warm body behind hers as you wait for food. it doesn’t help. when she’s away from you, she’s still thinking about you. 

tonight was no different. though in her mind maybe there was a slight difference. once she was all washed, freshly clean and ready to get into bed, her mind wandered back to you, the subtle movements of your tongue wetting your dry lips had her throat closing up and eyes repeatedly blinking, trying to remove the image from her head. it wasn’t normal, she tried to tell herself. not normal to be thinking of someone you’ve known most of your life, in a manner that is considered sinful. 

slumping her head back against the pillow, one you would most likely sleep with whenever you’d stay over, and inhales a deep breath. her hands rest against her legs, twitching and then forming into a fist the longer she counts all the small specks of peeling paint on the ceiling. she should get it done, or ask you to do it. vi was pathetic with the way she’d watch you do anything so effortlessly.

after a while, her eyes flutter closed, nails sinking into the palms of her hands but no matter how hard she tries, it goes back to you. it’s always going back to you. her mind wanders, carves new holes to store memories that you should never have to hear about. it’s obscene, scary how often she thinks about you in ways she really shouldn’t. 

the more she thinks, the more she’s unaware of how her hands start to wonder. first they rub the soft fabric of her shirt, that’s actually yours, and run her hand underneath. her blunt nails rake up and down her stomach, burning just enough to have a soft gasp slipping between her plump lips. 

she drifts slowly back to today, and vi’s eyebrows furrow. she’s picturing that stupid hoodie on you, one she’s borrowed countless times, and she can barely stop herself from thinking about how your lips brushed against her ear when you were trying to tell her something in such a crowded room, that her hand reaches up and cups one of her tits. “oh,” she breathed out softly, rolling her hardening nipple between her fingertips and licking her lips. 

her other hand starts to wander seconds later, at first fumbling with the string of her shorts, to then trailing her fingers up and down her stomach until she’s practically vibrating with need the longer she thinks about you. 

moans and whimpers spill from her lips once her hand slips between the waistband of her shorts, and instantly finds her clit. “fuck,” vi choked out, furrowing her eyebrows tightly and rubs slow circles on the bud. 

pinching her nipple harder, violet whined at the sensation, and pathetically pulled at the metal bar. face flushing in a deep read at how easily she can hear your voice, your laugh. “told you they would look pretty pierced.” you always were shameless. “please.” the pink haired beauty gasped, rubbing faster circles on her clit. 

spreading her legs a little wider, her body shakes when she’s slipping her fingers down just a little more, dipping into her hole, teasing herself. arching off the mattress, vi plays with her tits and carefully sinks one of her fingers into her cunt, soft cushion walls tighten around them without hesitation and she wails out a cry. “yes, yes,” she nodded, sliding them in and out with rhythm. 

her body sinks down into her mattress with each thrust, each little movement and violet’s quickly sinking yet another finger into her cunt, filling herself up at the thought of it being you. she wonders what it would feel like. she wants to feel the thick of your fingers splitting her open, sliding into her warmth and making her cum over and over. she’s always wondered about it, especially what your mouth would feel like, licking your way into her cunt like it was made for you.

“just like that.” vi murmurs and curls her fingers slowly. her breath hitches at the feeling and squeezes her eyes shut even tighter. removing her hand reluctantly from her tits, she reaches up, carefully wraps her hand around her throat and squeezes gently. her lips parted and a shaky moan tumbled effortlessly while squeezing just a little more harder and thrusting her fingers faster. “fuck, baby, please, so good.”

the obscene sound of squelching between her legs, and the force around her throat had violet’s blood rushing to her skull, chest and face flushed the more she fucked her fingers in and out of her cunt. slick dripped down her inner thighs, and down the crack of her ass but she didn’t care to stop, she couldn’t. rocking her hips rhythmically to the thrust of her fingers, tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. “more, please,” she begged out loud, imagining it was your fingers inside her, stretching her out and thrusting deeper. 

vi was practically fucking herself down on her fingers, still squeezing at her throat, arching of the bed with each stroke of her fingers and at a certain curl of her fingers, her breath hitches again, but doesn’t stop. if anyone were to barge into her apartment, they would see what a pathetic and needy sight she truly was. bed sheets all messy beneath her, pink hair damp due to sweat and sticking to her forehead, legs parted wide and fingers deep in her pussy.

her body shakes, gasps and strings of whines leaving her mouth continuously, at a certain curl that has her toes curling between the messy blankets and she finally removes her hand from her throat to grasp onto the bed sheet, knuckles turning white instantly with how hard she was gripping. “feels so good,” she cried out, pumping her fingers in and out faster. 

her abs ripple and her stomach starts to tighten as she feels that flutter in her lower stomach. her walls grip around her fingers like a vice, refusing to let go and keep her where she is. something she knows you would do if you were here. 

“m’gonna cum,” vi moaned, removed her hand from the sheet, reached down to find her clit and rubbed harsh circles. “please let me cum,” she continued her pleas while grinding down on her fingers more harshly. 

by the time violet can comprehend and focus anything other than you, with a final hard thrust of her fingers, vi’s cunt clenched tightly, her eyes rolled back into her head and she came with a loud moan. her legs shake and tremble at the sudden gush of spray, and her hand squeezes her breast tightly as she grinds down against her fingers through her orgasm.

“oh fuck, shit shit,” she chanted and thrusted her fingers a few more times and her legs are quick clamp around her arm. a warning she needs to relax before continuing. 

velvet walls release her fingers reluctantly and vi whines softly at the empty feeling before bringing her hand up, slipping two of her fingers between her lips and sucking them pathetically. 

violet’s eyes flutter open, still coming down from her high, just in time to hear the soft ding of her phone. taking a deep breath, she removes her fingers from her mouth, bites down on her bottom lip and reaches over for her phone.

her stomach flutters at a message from you. 

can’t sleep. coming over. 

[pupkashi]

jjk 260 spoilers !!

my lover is back of course i had to write something even though im tispsy !

gojo can’t help but shoot you a cocky smile as he finds your eyes in the crowd of sorcerers, he walks pasts everyone cheering and hugging yuji, b-lining towards you.

“what, you really think I’d lost?” there’s a shit eating smirk on his face, one that softens into a love struck smile as tears form in your eyes when you hand touches his chest. his chest is firm and warm under your touch, it makes you grip the fabric of his beaten up black shirt and pull him towards you, wrapping your arms against him and squeezing as hard as you can.

“sweetheart?” he gasps, ignoring the shooting pain he feels in his sides from the injuries he’d acquired since rejoining the battle. you listen for his heartbeat, breathing a sigh of relief when you hear the rhythmic thumping against you ear.

the bottom of his shirt is torn to shreds, a jagged scar running across his entire midline is proof of shoko’s skills and satoru’s resilience. his pretty blue eyes shining down on you once more, dimples making you fall in love again.

“i love you” is all you manage to get out, too choked up and frazzled with emotions to say anything than the three words that you mean most. you don’t loosen your grip on your lover.

it’s a comfort to him as much as it was to you, especially as his arms are engulfing you, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheeks, kissing away your tears and reassuring you he was okay.

that night satoru lays wrapped in your arms, the little spoon after so many times having been the big spoon. every one of his scars is covered with kisses from you, soft ‘i love you’s and tender touches are all his mind is full of.

satoru is back in your arms. instead of nudging him to stop snoring you smile, embracing his twitches and the tickling of his soft snowy hair against your face and neck. you hug him a little tighter, letting him stir to get more comfortable, even if it means leaving you a sliver of space on your shared king bed.

for tonight, you won’t complain and make him scoot over, inevitably ending up in the same situation mere hours later. for tonight, you hold him close, you dry your tears and appreciate what is, not what could’ve been. you kiss your lover as he sleeps.

“don’t ever leave me again, angel boy” you whisper, squeezing a bit and finally closing your eyes, lulled to sleep by satoru’s rhythmic breathing.

[satoruhour]

nanami who loves his sweetheart gf so much bcs she's so good to him (giving him the nastiest head and taking his thick cock like a champ)

a/n: sorry guys ty for waiting, finally got the theme up! enjoy x / very fun to witness these three @marimogf @jabamin @redskyvenus ’s live reactions last night LOLOL (1.5k)

warnings: fem!reader, dry humping, semi-public oral (m! receiving), almost getting caught, deep throating, cumshot on face, brief unprotected p -> v sex, gojo being annoying as always, n*sfw under the cut

nanami never forces you into anything you don’t want to do — you’re not too big on changing the deteriorating dresser because it was a gift from your mom, nor were you keen on changing from echire to yotsuba hokkaido butter even if the former option was a little pricier. he simply accepts it because you could do no wrong in his eyes, but this, he feels that you’re hurling head first into this.

he can’t help but check his watch every few seconds even when the meeting was supposed to be fifteen minutes later, while you sat obediently in his lap with arms around his neck. he keeps sparing glances toward the locked door, too, and you only bring his face back to you with a frown.

“do you not want me to?”

“no— no! no, darling, i’m just worried if i’m forcing you into anything since you’re not one to reject often. are you sure?”

and if nanami wasn’t sure about your answer before, you lean forward to press another kiss to his lips, slipping your tongue in just to feel his. under you, you can feel him growing against your cunt, grinding down against his bulge until he starts groaning softly. you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, infectious giggles affecting him, too when you feel a smile appearing on his face.

he lets you do anything always (you could do no wrong), letting you loosen his tie and unbuttoning the first button of his shirt just to mark the skin there. it blooms into a bluish-black, something that you admire after sucking at his neck. he makes sure your hips don’t stop, either, large hands planted on your ass to keep you grinding.

“kento . .” you mumble, thighs around his body tightening and tensing up as you hump your clothed core into his hard-on, the restriction of fabric so irritating yet exciting. and he responds by moving his hips into yours as well, mumbling praises into your lips — but, as always, gojo has to be annoying.

nanami grunts when he hears a message notification sound out.

[9:54am, gojo -> nanami]: HEELLLOOOO GOOD MORNING NANAMI !!! r you comin to the meeting in 5 min????? i think the higher-ups want cams on btw ~~~

he gives you an apology at having been interrupted, but you don’t mind when you’re patting his cheek and leaving his lap to get to your knees, smiling from under his desk. he’s just glad gojo isn’t here physically to see nanami be so filthy, mentioning something about going to the countryside for some nasty curse, but you? he’s so thankful you didn’t twist your face one bit at his request (“are you up for some . . mischief during the higher-ups meeting, doll?”).

the way he asked too was cute, feeling the lewd words get stuck in his throat but you know what he’s referring to anyway, quieting his fears last night with one sweet kiss. 

and nanami spares one last glance to you, a grateful smile before he clicks into the meeting, turning on the camera. only then do you get to work, letting nanami feel a sense of security before you’re unbuckling his belt and removing the underwear. as usual, the sight of his cock never fails to give a chill right down to your pussy, hearing him hiss when the air touches his shaft.

“pretty,” you mumble to yourself, wrapping a careful hand around his length before you’re pumping him to full hardness, swirling your tongue around his tip just a little to test the waters. you knew these meetings never needed for the sorcerers to turn their mics on, so you could be as sloppy as you wanted to.

before long, you start bobbing your head and his hands drop to his thighs to squeeze at it because your mouth just feels so damn warm, mirroring exactly how your pussy felt just last night.

even with the mic off, you try to keep the sloppy gurgling noises to a minimum, but it’s proving difficult when there was just so much saliva. with one hand, you’re stroking the base of his cock and the other plays with his balls, squeezing and fondling when you hear nanami groan out loud. you grin.

you know he’s already checking the microphone symbol every second, but your mouth just does that: make the ever stoic nanami lose control over everything.

“s-shiit . . baby,” he mutters, hiding his mouth with his hand, “mouth feel so fuckin’ good, darlin’.”

you hum from under the table, like a devil’s temptation and nanami caves so easily, glancing down to see you take his fat cock like a champ. there you are, spit and pre-cum smeared all over your face as you lick the underside of his length from its base right to his tip before tapping his cock on your tongue, slaps reverberating throughout his office.

“good girl,” he grins, rolling his office chair closer to you just to see his cock enter your mouth again before a resounding first-grade sorcerer nanami kento, is everything okay? comes through his laptop speakers and he scrambles, eyes blown wide and fingers searching for the unmute button.

“everything is fine, gakuganji-san, just—” nanami clears his throat, “thought there was a bug on the floor.”

the higher-ups don’t care, frankly, but the thrill was still there; at being found out, at being caught. blindly, he reaches for your head, watching his reflection in the meeting call just to make sure he isn’t making any suspicious faces before he’s pulling you right onto his cock.

“mmph—!” you let nanami use your mouth, bringing you right down to the base of his cock where your nose met with his blonde pubes, and you try your best to breathe through your nose. your nails dig into the sides of his thighs, prompting him to look down again and nanami gives himself some leeway. if the higher-ups didn’t care, he wouldn’t either, looking at his baby kneeled under the table so adorably.

“you’re taking it so well, doll, fuck,” he swears, feeling sweat run down his back from just how collected he’s trying to look on camera, “still bein’ a pretty girl even with all that cock down your throat.”

his words make your pussy throb, but you’re too busy trying not to gag when his tip touches the back of your throat; one sound from you is enough, though, for nanami to pull you off of him, easily finding your chin and grabbing hold of it. with repeated glances to the screen and you, he decides that your stuck out tongue is too pink and perfect to waste it on paying attention to a lame meeting.

with the other hand nanami starts pumping his cock, moaning shamelessly, now. his lips part in low profanities and groans, spurred on by the wet shlicks of his stroking hand that gathers both his pre and your saliva. even without words, you sit there with tongue out and eyes trained on him, just begging and asking.

“please, kento,” and then the words send him into overdrive, “wan’ your cum all over my face.” his grunts turn louder, choked and strained and he’s sure his quads are pulled so tautly from how close he is to cumming. 

“c— close, ’m gonna give it all to you, yeah?” you nod, scooting closer on your knees while his hand switches to quicker strokes, desperate for release until you make the mistake of suckling on his tip, the added stimulation making his cock twitch and soon your mouth is full of his cum. it overflows so much that it spills onto your face, too, his hot, thick seed covering your cheeks in white.

“o-oh . . fuuuck, doll,” nanami continues to pump himself, drunk on ecstasy as his whole body shakes and your grin while licking the cum from your face, cleaning up perfectly until you’re turning around and presenting your ass to him. he almost ends the call right there and then, staring hypnotised at your unclothed pussy that you must have taken off when he wasn’t looking.

like always, you can do no wrong, wriggling your ass back just onto his still weeping tip until he can just barely feel the warmth of your pussy and he chokes out your name again.

“c—can’t . .”

“can’t, or won’t, kento?” you scooch back again onto his dick, juices dripping from your pretty cunt that he exhales. gakuganji is wondering what’s wrong again though so he calls on your boyfriend again and he answers with a callback to his previous reply — “s-sorry, gakuganji-san, it wasn’t a bug but rather an arachnid. y-yeah, they scare the crap out of me, so please continue on without me.”

the camera’s and mic’s off and nanami simply falls from his office chair, fully sheathing himself in you with a loud whiny moan. he wastes no time, thrusting into your tight pussy and obsessing over how it wraps around him like a vice, too drunk on you to notice another notification from the annoying sorcerer.

[10:23am, gojo -> nanami]: didn’t know u were freaky like that. care to invite me next time?

[vandme12]

ronin coming home from work and walks in on his darling trying on his clothes 🙏

“Ain’t That a Sight.”

The front door creaks open.

It’s late—too late, honestly—but that’s how it always is. A long night. A mess to clean up. The kind of work that leaves blood drying under his nails, even if he washed his hands twice on the way back.

Ronin rolls his shoulders, tossing his coat onto the hook, boots hitting the floor with that heavy thunk-thunk of exhaustion. He smells like the city—smoke, asphalt, something coppery clinging to his skin—but home is warm. Light seeps under the bedroom door. You’re still awake.

And damn, he hopes you’re waiting for him.

Not that you’d admit it, of course. You’d huff, roll your eyes, maybe throw a pillow at his head if he asked. But he knows you. Knows your tells. Knows the way you stay up, keep a lamp on, pretend you’re just reading or scrolling on your phone when really, you’re listening for the door.

Because, deep down, you worry.

It’s cute.

He’s halfway through when he hears it. A rustle. The soft swish of fabric.

Ronin stills.

The bedroom door is cracked open. The closet door too. And inside—

Well. Ain’t that a sight.

You, standing in front of the mirror.

Draped in his clothes.

The sleeves of his shirt are too long, hanging past your fingertips, swallowing your hands whole. His coat is slung over your shoulders, the hem brushing your calves, the weight of it too much, too heavy for you to wear right—but fuck if you’re not trying.

And you don’t see him yet.

You’re too busy turning, checking yourself out, Like you’re wondering what it feels like to be him.

Something slow and dangerous curls up Ronin’s spine.

He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, grinning.

"Hell," he drawls, voice deep and pleased. "Didn’t know I was gettin’ robbed tonight."

You freeze.

And he drinks it in—the way your shoulders jolt, the way your hands tighten in the fabric, like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

Slowly, slowly, you turn your head.

Your eyes meet his in the mirror.

"...I thought you were gonna be home later," you say, and your voice is casual—too casual, like you’re playing it off, like you weren’t just rolling around in his damn identity like a cat in sunbeams.

Ronin chuckles, pushing off the doorframe. "Changed my mind. Lucky me, huh?"

Your face scrunches, pretending to be annoyed. "Lucky you?"

He hums, stepping closer. His hands find your waist—warm, solid, there.

"Mmhm," he murmurs. "Real lucky."

And then, because he can’t help himself, he leans in—mouth brushing against your ear, slow and deliberate, his voice dropping to something dangerous.

"So tell me, sweetheart," he purrs, "do I look better on you?"

Your breath hitches.

For a second, you don’t answer. Maybe you can’t.

He sees it—the way your fingers clutch the hem of his shirt, gripping it like you need something to hold onto. The way your throat bobs, just a little. The way heat crawls up your neck.

And he loves it.

He loves the way you look in his clothes. Loves the sight of you wrapped up in him, drowning in the weight of something that’s always meant to carry him, but now—now it’s carrying you.

"Shut up," you mumble, weak, breathless.

Ronin grins.

"Not a chance."

—

You try to move past him. A mistake.

Ronin’s quicker, arms looping around your waist before you can escape, tugging you back flush against his chest.

"You know," he murmurs, voice warm against your neck, "you really do pull it off."

You fidget, shifting against him, trying so hard not to react. "I wasn’t trying to—"

"Sure you were," he interrupts, smirking. "And it’s workin’ for you."

Your lips part, but no words come out. You’re flustered. Flustered.

God, he could eat you alive.

But then—he softens. Just a little.

Because the way you’re standing, the way you’re holding onto his sleeves, fingers curling in the fabric like it’s some kind of comfort—this isn’t just teasing for you, is it?

Ronin lets his chin rest on your shoulder, voice dropping to something quieter.

"Feels nice, huh?"

You swallow. "...What does?"

"Wearing my stuff." His fingers trace along your hip, light and lazy. "S’like a hug you don’t have to ask for."

There it is. That little flicker of vulnerability you’re trying to hide.

It makes something in him ache.

"Yeah," you admit, so soft he barely hears it. "S’comfy."

Ronin exhales through his nose, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"You can keep it, you know," he murmurs. "Hell, I’ll give you one that actually fits."

You scoff, but there’s no bite in it. "That defeats the whole point."

He laughs. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

And maybe—just maybe—you press back into him a little. Let yourself lean against his warmth, let your fingers uncurl from his sleeves to touch him instead.

He definitely notices.

Ronin’s hands tighten on your waist.

He grins, nuzzling into your hair. "Damn, Darlin. If you wanted to smell like me that bad, you coulda just asked."

You groan, shoving him half-heartedly. "And you had to ruin it."

He laughs again, pulling you closer, tucking you into him.

"Nah," he murmurs. "Just makin’ it better."

Ronin could tease you forever. Could stand here, holding you, feeling the weight of his own clothes against your skin, dragging this moment out just to watch you squirm.

But something about this is soft. Different.

Yeah, he flirts like it’s a sport, but this? This isn’t just some game. You’re wrapped in him, drowning in his scent, looking at him like—like maybe you like this too. Like maybe you feel it.

So instead of another joke, another sharp grin, he just… sighs.

Pulls you in closer.

His hands skim your waist, fingers curling into the leather. "Y’know," he murmurs, voice lower now, softer, "you really do look good in this."

You make a noise, something half-flustered, half-unconvinced. "You’re just saying that."

He scoffs. "Nah. I don’t just say things." A pause, a smirk curling at his lips. "I do things."

And then, deliberately, slowly, he leans down—presses a kiss just below your ear, lingering just long enough to feel your breath hitch.

Your fingers tighten in his shirt. "Ronin."

"Mm?"

"...That’s cheating."

He chuckles against your skin. "Yeah? What exactly am I cheatin’ at, sweetheart?"

"You know what."

Ronin grins, brushing his nose along your jaw, another slow, lazy kiss at the corner of your mouth, dragging it out, letting the anticipation settle deep. "Dunno."* Might need you to spell it out for me.*"

You groan, shoving at his chest again—but this time, you don’t mean it. Your hands stay there, fingers splayed over his ribs, holding him instead of pushing him away.

"You’re impossible," you mutter.

"And yet." He presses his forehead to yours, hands sliding from your waist to your back, keeping you right there. "Here you are. Wrapped up in my clothes. Lookin’ like you belong to me."

You hesitate. Not because you disagree—but because you don’t.

And fuck, if that doesn’t make something tighten in his chest.

He swallows. Lifts a hand, fingers brushing the side of your face, gentler now. Less teasing.

"Keep ‘em," he murmurs.

You blink. "What?"

"My clothes." He tugs at the jacket’s collar, lips ghosting over your temple. "They’re yours now."

Your breath catches. Just for a second.

"...You’re serious?"

Ronin nods, kissing your forehead, lingering like he means it. "Dead serious."

You hesitate—but only for a moment.

Then your arms loop around his neck, pulling him into a hug so tight it knocks the air right out of him.

Ronin laughs, stumbling back a step, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t mind at all. He just tucks you against him, holding you just as tightly, cheek pressed against the top of your head.

"You’re ridiculous," you mumble into his chest.

You don’t answer, but the way you hold onto him? The way you stay wrapped up in his clothes, in him?

Yeah.

He knows.

[chuusmuts]

imagine innocent!kabukimono losing his mind

smut. afab reader, fingering, slight boobs and nipple play, oral (female receiving), marking, fingering. not proofread.

yeah, it's been a while ig... anyway, new ver of innocent kabukimono because why not (can't really call him innocent now but idk and tbh idc).

who would've thought that the day when he had to rate your dress would come? oftentimes, you would wear a casual outfit everyday, even to gatherings. but this, this was different– you were meeting your girl friends which you hadn't seen in years. so obviously, you wanted to look as pretty as you could.

therefore, here he was, seated on your bed as he watched you picked all kind of dresses from your wardrobe before throwing them beside him. he could feel his cheeks heating up at seeing you in just a towel as he tried his hardest to play it off as if he wasn't affected by your presence. but the fact that his dick was tenting his kimono was a dead giveaway.

"oh... uhm..." he fumbled over his words as blush dusted his cheeks and ears. "i- i can help you with that." he stuttered out, shifting uncomfortably on the soft mattress. his gaze flickered between the dresses laid out and your exposed skin, torn between choosing one and admiring you. his heart rate quickened as you took a step closer to him, choosing a few dresses.

"but i- it might be better if you picked something yourself." he suggested timidly, his voice barely above a whisper. he couldn't bear the thought of seeing you uncomfortable because of him. you put your index finger against your chin, indicating you're thinking before speaking up while holding up two elegant dresses, "then, i'll try both of these dresses and you tell me which one is prettier, okay?" without waiting for his response, you ran into the bathroom and changed into one of the dresses you chose.

minutes later, kabukimono watched with wide-eyed as you emerged from the bathroom wearing a short, black dress. It clung to every curve of your body, leaving little to his imagination. his breath hitched in his throat, and his mouth immediately went dry. "what do you think? mind rating from one to ten?" you spun around, a happy smile plastered on your cute face. the way your hips tilted gave a glimpse of ass crack showing just how short your dress was.

his eyes trailed down your body, taking in the way the fabric hugged your hips and accentuated your ass. he swallowed hard as unholy thoughts started to filled his mind. this was too much for him, and yet he couldn't tear his gaze away. subconsciously, his gaze dropped lower to where the hem of the dress rode up slightly to reveal a hint of your crack, causing the urge to touch you and to feel your soft skin under his fingers was mind-blowing."t- ten. i-it's... it's really pretty..." he murmured, shakily.

your smile grew even wider after hearing his response. you grabbed another dress excitedly and quickly ran to the bathroom. "i'll try this one next. don't go anywhere!" you said while you did so. he nodded jerkily, his eyes glued to your retreating form. he tried to look away, but he found himself unable to resist watching as you disappeared behind the bathroom door. this was definitely strange— he was just a puppet, a failed, innocent puppet who was thrown away and was exposed to this cruel world. this wasn't supposed to happen, but he couldn't help it as the image of your fresh ass crack flashed in his mind, making his dick throb even harder.

he groaned softly, rubbing his free hand over his throbbing member through the fabric of his kimono. it was becoming more and more obvious that he was getting turned on by this whole situation. he waited impatiently, shifting from foot to foot as he tried to ignore the ache in his groin. he knew that he shouldn't be touching himself like this, but he couldn't seem to stop. just the thought of you coming back out in that other dress was driving him wild.

though, as soon as he heard the creaking of the door, he immediately removed his hand from his member and tried to act normal. it's amazing how you're so oblivious to his abnormal breathing and the way he's sweating and blushing so much. nevertheless, you stepped out of the bathroom shyly with a blush coating cheeks, "w- what do you think about this one?" you looked breathtaking in the new dress– a pastel pink number that clung to your curves even tighter than the previous one.

kabukimono's eyes widened as you stood in front of him. the low neckline revealed more of your cleavage was mouthwatering, and the off-the-shoulder design left your shoulders bare, accentuating your slender neck. he loved the way the dress fell just above your ankles, creating a sense of elegance and grace.

"fuck." he cursed to himself. "it's..." he paused, struggling to find the right word. his gaze kept darting between your face and your breasts that were practically spilling out from the dress, lost in the beautiful sight of you. "...breathtaking." the word slipped out before he could censor himself. without realizing it, he took a step towards you, his eyes filled with desire. his tongue swiped over his lips as he fought the urge to reach out and touch you.

the blush on your cheeks darkened and you instantly turned shy. you didn't know what got into you but your smaller fingers swiftly reached out to him, holding his hand gently and pulling him closer, "do you want to touch my dress, kabuki?"

and the next moment you knew, you were pinned by him.

it was quick when he pushed you against the bed, his weight was pressed into yours, on top of yours. he found himself breathing heavily as if he didn't know how to breathe at the first place. his hands were beside your head, trapping you and suddenly he didn't understand why he needed to wear clothes anymore, why YOU needed to wear that gorgeous dress anymore. it was as if his sanity had left him, the desire to touch you, to fuck you getting stronger and overwhelming him.

he was desperate, desperate for you.

"...kabukimono?" you asked confusingly, your hands crawling up to caress his cheek and your thumb brushing against his lips which caused his breath to hitch and his eyes fluttered shut. the sensation of your thumb brushing against his lips was almost too much, sending shivers shooting through his veins and making you irresistible.

he opened his eyes again, looking down at you with a mix of desperation and longing. his hands tightened around yours, pulling them away from his face and bringing them down to rest on your waist. "i... i can't help it." he whispered, his voice husky with arousal.

his hips grounded against yours, the hardness of his cock pressing insistently against the thin fabric of your dress and he bit his lower lip, stiffling the moan he accidentally let out. "you're so fucking sexy." he breathed out, leaning down to press his forehead against yours.

your eyes dilated slightly before the corner of your mouth curved upward into a soft smile. then carefully, and without a word, you lifted up his head and pulled it back down until both of your lips met. it was slow, sensual and soft kiss, one that he'd never expect from you.

but he groaned into your lips, urging you to go faster and kept up with him. he drank your lips in a quick and careless way without any thought about the future as you tried your best to keep up with his intense speed. a moan escaped your lips and your eyes were closed as his hand found itself on your nape.

kabukimono's world narrowed down to the feeling of your lips against his own. he kissed you fiercely, hungrily, as if he was starved for the taste of you while his hand on your nape tightened, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. the other hand slid up from your collarbone to you shoulder before slipping beneath the hem of your dress.

his fingers danced across your skin, teasing over the swell of your breast before cupping its softness. he squeezed them gently, massaging the firm mound as he continued to ravage your mouth with his, causing soft moans continued spilling from your delicious lips. a soft growl rumbled in his throat, vibrating against your lips. in that moment, kabukimono was consumed by need, he wanted nothing more than to tear away the layers of fabric separating their bodies and claim you completely.

and he did just that.

unwittingly, you whined loudly as he ripped off your dress and left you naked. arching your back, you felt his tongue licking the tip of your nipple. "fuck..." he growled against your tits as he sucked them eagerly. he tasted of sweat and need, and it was driving you crazy. your body trembled under his, but instead of pushing him away, your legs parted subtly, inviting him to move lower.

he leaned forward once more, kissing and sucking all over your skin until red and purple marks were all over you. each nip and lick sent shivers running down your spine, until you could feel yourself growing wetter beneath your dress.

kabukimono's attention was solely focused on your body, on every inch of skin he could see and touch. he lavished attention on each breast, suckling and nibbling until they were flushed and throbbing. his hands roamed over your curves, squeezing and kneading the flesh as if trying to imprint his touch onto your skin.

as he moved further south, his kisses trailed along your stomach before reaching the apex of your thighs. he glanced up at you, his indigo eyes burning with lust as he saw the slick evidence of your arousal. without hesitation, he inhaled your scent deeply before burying his face between your legs.

his hands firmly spread your thighs wide, giving him full access to feast upon your dripping cunt, exposing your clit to his eager mouth. a lewd soud keened from your throat as he dipped his tongue into your folds, tasting the sweet essence of your arousal. a guttural moan vibrated against your clit as he licked and lapped at your pussy. he was relentless as his mouth worshipped every inch of inside your walls, making your breath hitched endlessly and your hips bucked involuntarily every time he let out a loud slurping sound.

feeling your body react to his ministrations especially your hands which were gripping and pulling on his hair tightly only spurred him on further. his tongue delved deeper into your warmth, lapping at the sensitive walls of your pussy. his hands held you steady, one gripping your hip tightly while the other wandered upwards to tease your hardened nipple. he sucked hard on the little nubbin, using his teeth to give a slight pinch before returning to your needy slit.

kabukimono was lost in the taste of you, in the way your body quivered and squirmed beneath his touch. it was intoxicating, driving him wild with desire.

the previous hand had slipped between your legs and he slipped two fingers into your wetness. he curled them, seeking out that sensitive spot inside you that would make you scream. his thumb circled your swollen clit, making sure to apply pressure that had jolts of electricity coursing through your body and you writhing beneath him.y

he pumped his fingers slowly, setting a rhythm that made your toes curl. every thrust was accompanied by another slurping or a sharp nip of his teeth teeth on your clit. tears gathered at the corner of your eyes and perspiration began to run down your forehead as you pulled his hair harder due to the dual assault on your sex.

kabukimono worked his fingers and mouth in perfect harmony, intent on drawing out your pleasure until you were a trembling mess beneath him. his tongue flicked over your clit, alternating between gentle licks and rough sucks.

the sounds of your moans and whimpers as well as his filled the air. once more he curled them, finding that sweet spot that made you gasp and arch your back. with his free hand, he reached up to stroke himself through the thin fabric of his kimono. the friction was deliciously torturous, adding another layer of sensation to the already overwhelming experience. he grunted softly and his movements becoming more erratic as he neared his own edge. he felt like he could cum just by eating you out and hearing your whimpers.

with every stroke, he felt you tighten around his fingers, your body ready to explode under his relentless onslaught. yet, he quickly stopped before you could cum, pulling out his mouth as well as his fingers from your drooling cunt, making you whined needily. chuckling breathlessly, he licked your slick off his fingers before slipping off his kimono, revealing his hard length and pushing it entirely into you.

and instead of letting you cry out, he pressed his lips against yours, silencing you as he jerked into you. your walls immediately clenched around him, signaling that you were close to cumming. kabukimono broke the kiss momentarily, panting heavily as he thrust into you. his cock was thick and hard, stretching you deliciously while he began to move. he grabbed your ass firmly, angling his hips so that he could hit that sweet spot inside you.

his thrusts became more urgent, more fast and hard. with each push he grunted, his voice a low rumble against your skin. you could feel his pulse quickening and his strokes becoming erratic. his lips found yours again, muffling your cries of pleasure. though, there was no hiding the way your body shook underneath him as well as how your inner muscles clenched around him as you teetered on the brink of release.

you yelped in pleasure as he continued to abuse your hole. once more, he pulled out his entire length and slammed it back into you, succesfully making you saw stars as you came with a loud mewl. you breathed heavily, head still dizzy from the pleasure.

he didn't gave you a chance to rest as he relentlessly pounded into you until he could hold back no longer. but before he reached his climax, you could hear him sobbing quietly. "fuck, you feel so good, i don't want this to end..." and he released his seed, filling you up with a cry just as loud as yours.

kabukimono was shaking, his body tensing as he spilled his seed deep inside you, as tears streamed down his cheeks. he slowed down his pace, his thrusts more gentler now as he rode out his orgasm all while his cock twitched inside your clenching walls.

he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily. his sobs were quiet, barely audible above the sound of your racing heartbeat. his body trembled slightly just as he came down from his high and his grip on your thigh loosening. despite everything, there was something undeniably comforting about being close to you. resting his forehead against yours, he took a moment to catch his breath before lifting himself off of you. but even as he did, he couldn't help but pull you closer, craving and needing the contact.

and now you're in his arms as he planted feather-light kisses all over you, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your hands, your arms and your neck as he murmured. "i'm sorry, i apologize deeply, i didn't know what came into me. that must had hurt."

you stared at him dumbfounded, eyes still glassy, speechless as he grabbed the back of your hands and kissed them, including each one of your knuckles. a soft smile then appeared on your face before you placed your hand on his hair, caressing it gently. "don't worry about me, i'm fine. how about you? you should worry about yourself too."

kabukimono looked up at you, his indigo eyes shimmering with unshed tears. he let out a shaky sigh, leaning into your touch. "i'm alright... i think," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. his hands moved to cup your face, thumbs brushing away the remaining tears.

he leaned forward, pressing a soft, tender kiss to your lips. there was nothing forceful or demanding about it; instead, it was slow and gentle, almost reverential. it wasn't often that kabukimono allowed himself such moments of vulnerability, but with you, he seemed unable to resist. he needed you, craved your touch, your affection. and right now, in this moment, he felt truly content.

in the end, you had to wait for him to sleep before getting up and getting ready again for the gathering. the event almost came to an end when you arrived there.

[chrissturnsfav]

fuckgirl!reader flirting with loser!matt, but she’s drunk so he’s just acting all nonchalant abt it

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 loser!matt babysits drunk fuckgirl!reader

the bass thumps in your chest, the music a relentless pulse that matches the dizzying swirl of the room. everything’s fuzzy—lights blurring into streaks, voices overlapping into a symphony of noise. you don’t remember how many drinks you’ve had, but it’s definitely more than you should’ve.

and then there’s matt. sweet, awkward matt.

"matt," you whine over the music that echoes in your ears, drawing out his name, your hand reaching for his sleeve. your fingers barely graze the fabric before you lose balance, tumbling halfway into his lap.

he catches you, because of course he does, his reflexes sharper than you’d expect. "careful," he says, voice dry but not unkind.

"i am careful," you insist, dragging yourself up and planting one hand on his chest for stability. it’s a nice chest—solid under your palm. "you’re just in my way."

"can we go upstairs?" you say feigning sweetness with a crooked smirk, your breath warm against his neck.

"nah." he leans back and manspreads on the couch, cool as ever, like he’s immune to your charms. it’s sickening.

"why not?" you pout, tugging at his arm. your dress rides up as you move, not that you care—matt’s the only one looking, and isn’t that the point?

"because you’re drunk kid," he says simply, tilting his head like he’s assessing whether you’re about to topple over again.

"so?" you challenge, a teasing grin spreading across your face. "you’re supposed to take care of me, aren’t you? that’s what guys do at parties, right? fuck pretty girls?"

he rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go when you wrap your arms around his neck. "m'not fucking you kid," he snickers.

you groan, a little too loud, and press your forehead against his. "you’re no fun, matt. chris would fuck me. he would probably die for the chance."

"yeah, but i’m not chris," he says, gently disentangling your arms from his neck.

"clearly," you mutter, falling back onto the couch in a dramatic heap. you look up at him, your eyes hooded and pleading. "don’t you think i’m pretty, though?"

he snorts, shaking his head. "nice try."

"what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" you demand, half-offended, half-sickened by how unaffected he is.

"it means you’re wasted, and you’re not gonna trick me into saying something stupid," he says, leaning down to pull a blanket off the back of the couch. he drapes it over your legs, ignoring your protests.

"you’re boring," you declare, crossing your arms with a drunken frown.

"and you’re a fucking mess," he counters, his smirk softening into something almost fond. "but don’t worry. i’ve got you."

his words hit you in a way you didn’t expect—soft and steady, but somehow leaving a mark. it makes your chest tighten, your thighs hot, and your stomach flip.

you know he’s just being responsible matt, always the boring one, always the one making sure things don’t spiral out of control. but the way his eyes linger on yours, the hint of warmth behind the teasing, makes you need him even more.

you grab his hand, holding onto it like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. "matt," you say again, but this time it’s quieter, your voice dipping into something softer, almost vulnerable.

"what now?" he asks, half-laughing, though his hand doesn’t pull away.

"just one little kiss, at least. please?" you say, your voice dropping into something softer, more pleading.

he laughs, shaking his head like you’re ridiculous. "not happening."

"you're the fucking worst," you whine, ripping your hand from his and sinking into the couch again.

"sleep it off kid," he says, his voice softer now. "you’ll thank me later."

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: the way i literally was writing this without even seeing this anon! i was abt to publish it and then checked my inbox and i was like :o that's perfect. so i copy and pasted the draft here.

thank you for reading! <3

tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @swagalicious260 , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott

@chrissturnsfav ™

[biibini]

save a horse, ride a mizu! .ೃ࿐

nsfw blurb ab thigh riding mizu

tags: smut blurb, modern!mizu, f!reader, good ol dirty talk, teasing, thigh riding (duhh), begging, fingering, soaked panties

a/n: this thought was keeping me sane during finals week… happy holidays everyone ;)

18+ content below!

modern!mizu wouldn’t complain ab the spontaneous idea

u? on top of her, naked, riding her thigh? well yes!

in fact, she’d be curious ab the idea, even egg u on, praising u with every thrust, guiding ur hips with the firm, slender hands

“That feels good, huh?”, Mizu hummed, her right hand caressing your side.

The latter was busy guiding your hips onto her thigh. The only thing between your warmth and her thigh was your soaking lace panties, tied with a small navy blue bow, her favorite piece out of your collection.

Your head knocks back as you groan with every thrust, keeping up the steady pace as Mizu lifts her leg against your throbbing heat.

God, she was good.

modern!mizu gets a good view of ur body and loving every bit of it

having direct access of ur hips, ur thighs, ur boobs, neck, etc

it couldn’t be helped that she left a mark or two or four

it was right in front of her!

(it looked at her first)

She pulls your breasts close to her face. The feeling of her mouth latch onto the supple skin throws you off.

Wet.

Soft.

Full pleasure.

You slowed your rhythm, letting yourself breathe as Mizu started her work on your boob, leaving soft kisses. You enjoy the moment, every touch of Mizu making your brain foggy from the affection.

That is until you feel her teeth softly bite down on the side of your boob, leaving a mark to bloom later that night.

“Mizu…”, you groan, your brain malfunctioning from the pleasure.

“Mm, I know.”, she answered, her thumb tracing the size of the hickey. “I’ll be gentle.”

“Liar.”

modern!mizu can feel every drop of your juices run down her thigh

trust me, she’s not complaining

she’s intrigued at how wet u can get without having her fingers messing up ur guts

(woah who wrote that)

“I’m getting soaked here, pretty girl.”

Mizu’s hands run down to your ass, gripping onto the skin as she deepens your thrust. Your panties, once dry, is dripping wet, now painting Mizu’s thigh with your slick.

“Mmm, I’m close baby.”, you groan, continuing your deep pace, “Please Mizu, just a little more.”

Her right hand snakes down to your soaked panties, letting the other hand slow down your thrusts.

“Almost there?”, she asks, her fingers palming your throbbing entrance through the thin, light blue fabric.

She’s smiling, and you know it.

Is this a little sadistic? Maybe.

But is her pretty girl begging for more? Yes.

You nod your head, spreading your legs farther apart as Mizu pulls the fabric to the side. Now exposed, you feel two digits drag down, catching every drop of slick that was sticking onto her thigh.

A moan erupts out of you, back arching and guiding your hips against her digits in hopes of chasing the high.

“Please.”, you cry.

A digit slides into your wet core, touching your aching walls. You forgot how good it felt with her inside. Pulling in and out, your moans grow louder.

Apparently, the volume of the wet noises also grows louder. With every thrust, your hips continue to be guided by her other hand, positioning you into a deep angle. Your walls start to squeeze and spasm, building up towards your inevitable release.

“So wet.”, Mizu groans, easily slipping in a second digit.

You feel fuller, the two hitting deep into your core, curling into the ceiling of your gummy walls. With every pump, Mizu feels your walls clamp around her fingers.

“I’m so… keep going Mizu.”

She continues to thrust inside, keeping the same pace. No matter how tight your walls were, Mizu continued to pump into you.

A wave of pleasure starts to build up inside of you. You feel it start to come to its peak, your voice moaning to the pace of her fingers.

Her thumb then flicks over your throbbing clit, gently circling around the sensitive skin. The wave reached its peak, now crashing down on Mizu’s fingers. You grip onto Mizu’s shoulders, pulling her close as your pleasure filled cries echoed in her ear late into the night.

[bonniebird]

Aemond X Fem!Targ!Reader but also (Alicent x Reader?)

Warnings: mentions of difficult childbirth, toxic relationship, neglectful relationship

Summery: In an attempt to keep peace, Viserys wed Rhaenyra's only daughter to Aemond. Years later Alicent finds herself caught between the loyalty to her son or her daughter-in-law. With Aemond showing he cares very little about what happens to the mother of his heir he is surprisingly enraged when she vanishes one afternoon during a council meeting.

Recommending the playlist i listened to while writing this lol

Even draped in the gray fabric with her head bowed and her back facing Alicent, she knew it was Rhaenyra. She was kneeling exactly where Aemond had said she would be. It had taken everything to have him spare her death. His plan might be worse.

“Rhaenyra.” Alicent said as she waved a hand and dismissed all of the Septas. Panic reached Rhaenyra’s eyes as she turned and stared at her childhood friend before glancing around and relaxing a little.

“I was not expecting you.” She said calmly. It was mildly frustrating that her nerves hadn’t rattled her. Especially when Alicent’s hands were sweaty and her throat was so dry with anxiety that she felt the need to cough deeply. 

“No. You are lucky I convinced Aemond that I would deal with you.” Alicent said slowly as she knelt down before the altar and lit a candle. Rhaenyra watched her and for a moment it was as if nothing had ever changed.

“I have not come as an enemy. I simply came to see my daughter. Her letters stopped.” Rhaenyra said quietly. There was a tone to her voice that held a firm accusation that something had happened to her daughter. Alicent’s eyes closed for a moment. She took a deep trembling breath. Thought of you. Of Helena and her grandchildren and swallowed all her guilt deep down until she felt numb.

“Rhaenyra…” She started.

“I am her mother! My father wed her to Aemond so there would be peace. A foolish idea but I… the only girl I have birthed… that lived. She is not Aemond's, she is my girl.” Rhaenyra seethed out with sharp words. Her eyes watered and she turned back to the candles before them.

“She is dead! Rhaenyra. She has died.” Alicent snapped out. She hadn’t been sure that she could do as Aemond commanded. Her eyes widened for a moment and the guilt reared its head, larger than Baelon the black dread had ever been looking down on her and casting judgment on her for the coward she was.

“No.” A small broken noise. Tears slid down Rhaenyra’s cheeks and she shook her head. “I would know. I would know if my girl had… What of her child?”

“They are both gone. Vhagar lit their funeral pyres. It was a son.” Alicent recited what Aemond had told her to say and stared forward at the lit candles. 

“So he takes another child from me.” Rhaenyra said with a hollow coldness. She stood and said nothing else as she left. Alicent stayed frozen to her spot as she raised a hand to cover her mouth and muffle the sob that escaped her as her gargantuan monster of guilt dove down to consume her.

********************

“How is she doing?” Aemond asked as he sat beside the bed. 

“The birth was hard; she will still need more rest before we can be sure.” Maester Orwyle said as she tended to the weak young woman in the bed. Aemmond looked down at her slowly. 

“The baby?” Aemond asked casually. He had done little more than look at the small life since it was first brought to him.

“Growing stronger. But I am worried about him. He is rather small.” The Maester said quickly. Aemond leaned back in his chair and glanced at the frail shape in the bed. 

“Maybe you should be ensuring that my heir will survive.” Aemond said before standing to leave. He stopped when he saw Alicent in the doorway of the room. They stared each other down for a moment before she glanced towards the Maester and Aemond took his victory by shoving past her.

“Alicent?” The weak voice called to her and Alicent swept across the room, crouching at the bedside and cupping the face of the poor young woman. “They took the baby.”

“He was sick. The Maester needed him to be cared for.” Alicent explained. Confusion crossed the face of the girl and she closed her eyes for a moment.

“I… I need to take the baby to the Sept.” She whispered out with her eyes still closed as she turned her head on the pillows. She looked so much like Rhaenyra when she was young that Alicent found guilt clawing at her belly. Sentiment played with her heartstrings and she pushed the ugly thought that she was using Rhaenyra’s child to find some comfort that had been lost when she and Rhaenyra fell out of friendship.

“(Y/N) the baby is fine. He does not need to go to the sept.” Alicent said softly and dismissed everyone else in the room once the Maester had finished checking on you. She took up Aemond’s seat beside the bed, moving it closer so she could take the damp cloth, sat in a bowl of cool water on a side table near your bed, and wipe at the sweat that coated your face. 

“I promised I would take the baby.” The weak voice made Alicent’s guilt return. It slithered around her like a snake squeezing tighter and tighter as she tended to the weak remnants of the sweet girl.

“I will speak with Aemond. Perhaps he will allow peace long enough to show the babe to your mother.” Alicent said as she bent over the girl and kissed her forehead as if she were her own.

“He wanted me to die. I disappointed him.” The whisper was delirious and wobbly but the truth of it was as jarring as it would have been for a knife to be plunged into her chest. Alicent hushed her, fussing until sleep took the girl and she could leave Septa's she trusted to watch over her.

Anxiety picked at Alicent. It thumped against her chest from the inside out, sitting beside her heart making her stop walking and take a shaky breath. She let it out in one quick huff and continued her steps through the halls. They echoed loudly. Each step accusing her of cruelty, treachery and weakness. When she entered the council room she found Aemond at the head of the table looking down at a map before him. He didn’t bother to acknowledge her which gave her a moment to steel herself.

“Aemond. You should be tending to your wife.” Alicent said firmly.

“Why?” He asked.

“The birth was hard. She is still in danger.” Alicent tried to pull at his sympathies. He had never been overly caring but she had hoped his possessiveness of you would grow into something more over the years.

“A punishment from the gods. For how my son and heir struggled into the world.” Aemond said carelessly. Alicent swallowed the raging beast of her youth, it yearned to strike Aemond and shout at him how he was wrong.

“Such foolishness. No doubt the words of your wise council that you repeat. The girl has battled to bring you an heir. Both have survived. Most are not so lucky.” Alicent stared at Aemond who shrugged. Alicent stared at him speechless. She was unsure how to express to him the danger his wife had faced.

“Simply because she is Rhaenyra’s child you have decided to hate her? To withhold your duties as a husband?” Alicent accused. Aemond glanced at her and sighed, sitting back in the large chair.

“She was meeting with the enemy.” Aemond said as if his attitude was justified.

“Because she was facing death. You could not negotiate peace for a few days for your own wife!” Alicent said and winced. She knew it was unrealistic. Impossible but it was right. “You have no idea what it was like for her alone. You should have had me sent for.”

“Were you able to send our message to the enemy?” Aemond asked, ignoring what she said.

“Yes. I have told Rhaenyra that her daughter passed… you do not plan to kill her?” Alicent asked. Aemond tutted and looked at her as if he was mildly offended.

“I will need another heir out of her first. She shall need to rest, I assume. Before I can make another.” Aemond looked to the door as the rest of the council entered. Alicent left feeling all the worse. She had hoped that something in Aemond would be altered by the sight of his son. Soften by his wife’s efforts to bring life to his world.

Alicent found herself feeling sick as she walked the halls aimlessly until she turned a corner and found Helena. She was light by light, some divine vision in the dark halls, smiling as if Alicent had never wronged anyone in her life.

“Mother. It is almost time.” Helena said in her way with a soft smile. She reached for her mother's arm and smiled as she avoided making eye contact with her mother.

“Time for what?” Alicent asked as if she wanted the world to stop.

“To save the heart.” Helena said as if she were in some kind of dream and let go of her mother, walking to the window nearby. Alicent knew better than to ask more of Helena. There would be no explanation. “He will kill her. But it is not too late yet. To take the heart home!”

**************

Alicent scanned the woods. She kept an eye out for any movement. She had a deep fear heavy in her belly that Aemond would shadow the skies with Vhagar and burn the forest down. Just behind her, the gentle brown horse kept a steady pace, refusing to go faster or slower. It was as if the creature knew the cargo it carried was precious and yet fleeing was necessary.

Alicent held out a hand and pulled her horse to a stop as men dressed in black and red suddenly poured out of the woods. They slipped between the trees and out of the shadows like water from a recent rain falling from the leaves of the great tree branches above them. One broke off, approaching the brown horse, taking hold of the reins. Alicent was surrounded by armed men, watching them silently.

“Princess. My name is Davos. Your mother has sent me to escort you to the vale.” The young man who had taken the reins from the brown horse said. The hooded figure on the horse pushed back the cloak wrapped around them and looked down at the young man. An awestruck look crossed his face. A look that should have lived on her son's face Alicent thought bitterly.

“Thank you, Ser.” The sweet, kind voice, broke the silence of the woods. The man nodded and led the horse away through the men. As the horse passed Alicent the girl looked up, locking eyes with Alicent. “Be sure not to hurt my law mother. Please.” 

The plea was heard and the girl was taken. The men retreated and all too soon Alicent was alone. Dismounting from the horse, emotion bubbled and spilt. She let out a scream of pain or rage she was unsure. Unable to keep her emotions contained anymore. Her outburst ended with her crumbling in the undergrowth, sobbing and weeping, unable to find the strength to move even as darkness began to set in. Men sent to look for her arrived and thought she had been wounded or attacked. Helena sat at her bedside as Alicent gave in, letting herself wallow in misery. She was unsure when Helena had left but she was roused from sleep in the dark. A single candlelight illuminating Aemond sat beside her bed, gently holding her hand.

“Mother. I am glad you are well. I fear you had been attacked.” Aemond’s voice was gentle. It was the gentle way he spoke to people he thought were less intelligent than him.

“We should have had more guards with us.” Alicent said. Aemond scoffed, leaning close to her, making Alicent’s eyes grow wide with nerves.

“My wife and son are gone. I know it was your doing Mother. The moment I can prove it to the council… I WILL FIND MY WIFE AND SON!... I…” He trailed off when Alicent scoffed.

“You think I would endanger my grandson?” She challenged. Aemond cocked his head to the side and looked at her as if he almost believed her. “How dare you!”

Fire. It ignited in her. Spreading through her body, fueled by the thought of her sweet Helena. Of her daughter-in-law, forgiving and merciful begging for her to be safe and spared. It burned through her until Alicent was on her feet.

“You mistreated that girl. Cruel to your sister. Humiliate your brother and then you accuse me! ME! You know what I have risked, and lost for all of this.” Alicent’s voice raised with each step she took towards Aemond who retreated as if a dragon were spitting rage at him. “I do not want to see you tomorrow until you have thought over the cruelties you dole out. I will expect your apology.” Her words were punctuated by the slam of the door. She had backed Aemond through and forced him from the room. She had lost everything for her sons and at the first taste of power they abandoned her. She wanted to give in. She would have. But for one thing. For her girls.

[noorpersona]

heyy first time requesting from you but i looove your work so if you don’t mind can you please write a timeskip!kenma x female!reader where reader is sick w high fever and kenma takes care of her and everything but two or one n a half day in she starts feeling really needy but is too tired embarrassed to tell kenma but he eventually finds out about what getting her so fussy and moody (other than the fever) and gives her what she longs for🙏🏻🙏🏻 I apologize if this is too long i mean no pressure at all you dont have to do it but i love the way you write fics please make it as long as possible thank youuu<33

I think I've ticked all your boxes hehe NEVER apologize for a request I love every one <333 thank you for your lovely words of encouragement! Enjoy!!!

--

Kenma had never liked seeing you sick.

Not in high school, not now, not ever.

He wasn't the overly expressive type—not with words, not even with touch unless prompted—but he was attentive in the quietest, most precise ways. It was in how he brewed your tea with exactly the right amount of honey, how he remembered which corner of the blanket you preferred, how he adjusted the thermostat a degree lower without being asked. It was in how he never once complained when you sneezed directly onto his hoodie and then apologized like you'd committed a crime against humanity.

You'd caught a fever two days ago. High. Dangerous enough to make him drop his controller mid-stream, tell his viewers he was logging off, and shut everything down without a second thought. His fans could wait. You couldn't.

Now you were curled up in bed, cocooned under three layers of blankets, face flushed and eyes watery. Your hair stuck to your temples in damp strands, and your lips were dry despite the water and juice he kept coaxing you to drink. A warm haze clung to you like a second skin.

Kenma sat on the edge of the bed, gently brushing a clammy strand of hair from your forehead, his brows drawn together with a soft, worried furrow. You looked so small like this. Fragile in a way he hated.

"Do you need anything?" he asked, voice soft.

Your response was a quiet hum—too soft, too weak. Your hand barely moved when you tried to reach for him and gave up halfway through.

He sighed. "I’ll take that as a 'no' then."

He rose and padded barefoot to the bathroom to change the cool compress on your head. When he returned, you winced slightly at the shock of it against your heated skin but gave him the smallest of smiles. That smile was all he needed to stay planted beside you for the rest of the evening.

The first day was simple: fever, rest, more rest. Kenma read to you in a soft voice when you couldn’t sleep, half-watching the screen of his Switch when you drifted off. The second day, the fever didn’t break. Your cough got worse. You started getting whiny—not in a mean way, just more clingy, more fussy. You tossed and turned, grumbled at the blanket for being too heavy and then too thin. Kenma adjusted it each time without complaint, wordlessly refilling your cup when it was empty.

"Don’t leave," you murmured once when he stood up to grab your medicine.

"I’m just going to the kitchen."

"Still. Don’t."

He paused. Then slowly sat back down. "Okay."

You fell asleep not long after, your fingers curled in the fabric of his sleeve like a tether.

By the start of the third day, the fever had started to dip, but something was off. Not worse—just different. You were moody. Restless. Your eyes kept drifting toward him, then away. You fiddled with your sleeves, pulled your legs up under the blankets only to stretch them back out a moment later. You weren’t saying much, but when you did, it was to complain—your pillow was too soft, your tea was too sweet, your shirt was itchy.

Kenma didn’t mind. He never minded when it came to you. But the inconsistency in your behavior pinged in the back of his mind like a notification he couldn’t swipe away.

By mid-afternoon, he closed his game console and leaned forward, placing it gently on the nightstand. His golden eyes watched you with subtle intensity as you fiddled with the edge of your blanket.

"Okay," he said flatly. "You’ve been squirmy and weird all day. Spill."

Your eyes widened, and your face—already flushed from the fever—somehow turned redder. You immediately turned your face into the pillow.

He waited.

You groaned. "It’s nothing. I’m just... tired."

He didn’t buy it. Not for a second. "You’re not tired. You’re needy."

Your breath hitched in your throat.

Kenma blinked, letting the silence stretch for a moment as he watched you squirm. His voice dropped lower, a little softer, more curious than accusatory. "...That it?"

You buried your face deeper into the pillow, voice muffled and near-incomprehensible.

"What was that?"

You turned just enough to peek at him with one eye, your lip trembling slightly. "I just... I wanna be held. But I’m gross and sweaty and disgusting, and I didn’t wanna bother you."

Kenma stared at you for a long beat. Then he gave a soft sigh, scooting closer until his knees bumped the side of the mattress.

"Move over."

Your eyes widened again. "But—"

"You think I care about sweat?"

"I literally sneezed in your hair yesterday."

"You did," he admitted. "And I’m still here."

You shifted slowly, cautiously, your heart fluttering like the fever had sparked all over again. Kenma climbed into bed beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. He was careful not to press against you too hard at first, but once you leaned into him, he wrapped his arms around you with a slow, deliberate tenderness, pulling you close until your head rested just beneath his chin.

You melted.

The warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers settled gently against your spine and started tracing soft, grounding lines—it was everything you hadn’t been able to ask for.

"Better?" he murmured.

Your voice cracked. "Yeah."

He kissed the top of your head, barely a brush of lips against fever-damp hair. "Next time, just say it. I can’t read your mind, you know."

You made a weak, embarrassed sound. "I didn’t want to be annoying."

"You’re always annoying," he mumbled, brushing his thumb against your arm. "But you’re mine. So it’s fine."

Despite the congestion, the soreness in your throat, the heat in your cheeks—you laughed. A breathy, tired little sound that still managed to be real.

He felt your smile against his collarbone.

Kenma held you tighter.

Neither of you moved for a long time. Minutes passed, then maybe an hour. Eventually, you dozed off in his arms, breathing soft and slow, and Kenma didn’t dare shift or get up.

He stayed right there, running his fingers along your back, as the fever began to retreat.

The medicine was working.

But more than that, you had finally let yourself rest in the place you needed most.

With him.