#wobble cushion

[cryptid-stimming]

x / x / x / x / x / x

[calicojack1718]

Reading time: 4 minutes Everybody has different needs and different sensitivities. Accommodating them all creates a complex situation that requires sensitivity and flexibility from all of us.

[tt04sty]

If I had to take a shot every time Dan readjusted himself in his chair, I would be knocked out in the hospital with alcohol poisoning

[psuejo]

❥ husband!toji can’t get enough of his pregnant wife :3

calling your husband obsessed would, truly, be the understatement of the century. toji was bad enough before you had a little bun in the oven, and now that you do...

well, he just can’t keep his hands off you.

whether it be when you two are soaking in the tub — those broad, calloused hands focused on working out any aches in your delicate body before they start to wander — or in the kitchen, his chest pressed to your back as you focus on prepping him a lunch for work. hard to stay focused when he’s pressing soft, nipping kisses up and down your neck, though. especially when he slips a hand underneath your waistband :((

toji absolutely adores your swollen tummy, that pretty baby bump, especially with all the stretch marks and the fat that comes with it. he knows you don’t like it, he’s no idiot — he sees the way you rarely show off your bump, even at home, how your face grows hot when he smooths his hands over the warm skin, the stress you endure trying to find a dress that hides the roundness.

he doesn’t get it — how could you hate something that makes you even more beautiful? you’ll always be beautiful to him, someone so impossibly gorgeous and angelic that he swears a sinner like him doesn’t deserve you, and it’s a shame that you don’t see that.

toji will just have to help you see it.

“ohh, o-oh my god!”

your arms have long since given out, wobbly and weak, and your body is only being held up by the mountains of pillows toji placed beneath you, cushioning your swollen belly.

in and out, in and out, in and out.

all at an almost bruising pace, his bulbous tip making sure to leave a loving kiss on your cervix every time your husband rams in. “feel good, pretty girl?”

“yessss!” you whine, loud and affirmative as your hips pump back to meet his thrusts. the lewd sound of slick skin clapping against slick skin fills the bedroom, along with the desperate squelch of your sopping pussy.

“yer so beautiful, baby. y’know that, right?” even in your oversized anime t-shirts, messy hair, and bare face, you’re still just as gorgeous as the day toji married you. but his way with words sucks, so he doesn’t say it, hopes you can understand that with every snap of his hips, every rough grunt of your name or groan of praise.

you nod as best you can with your cheek smushed against the soft sheets, and your mind is far too hazy to bother with being embarrassed at toji’s words or to even form a proper response.

he tuts. “can’t hear ya,” he says, and his pace slows to an almost complete stop, heavy cock just barely moving inside of you. “tell me ya understand, doll.”

your dry throat works to swallow down the saliva that pooled in your mouth, and your cockdrunk brain fights to muster up the right words. “y-yes, i know. i promise, toji, pleaseee—”

toji grins, a dangerous smirk that would have your stomach and pussy fluttering if you could see it. he angles his hips just right before slamming home, right against that spongey spot that always has you keening. this time is no exception. “atta girl.”

he leans forward to press a constellation of soft kisses along your shoulders, lips soft where his scar is rough, a sensation that never fails to push you closer to the brink.

“gotta make sure my gorgeous wife cums, yeah?”

[tonycries]

ABRACADABRA

Synopsis. No one else made you cúm before? No problem! Of course, he’s there to help.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, JJK men making you cúm after your ex couldn’t, PÚSSYDRÚNK MEN, matíng presses, cervíx kíssing, dúmbifícation, TALKING YOU THROUGH IT, biiig stretch, creampíes, spítting, chokíng, oraI (f), exhíbitíonism (Gojo), use of jujutsu, doctor!Higuruma, p examinations, true form Sukuna, dp, Sukuna’s second mouth, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Happy early VaIentine’s day lovelies <33

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - COCK(Y)

“M’almost insulted, doll.” Toji’s letting his muscular back slouch heftily against the padded pillow, pinkish tongue poking out to drag a slow lick across his scar at the way you straddled him. “Let your dear Toji here take gooood care of this pretty pussy now.”

“B-but Toji–” Your hands ghost down his tensing abs, rock-hard and so sculptured underneath your sensory tips that you can’t help but ogle. Whispering, “None of my exes have ever made me c-”

“So what, girl?”

He’s latching a strong hand onto the side of your waist, letting your eager hips slip n’ slide all down that girthy length of his. Scorching hot, lathering your entrance in a slobbering layer of pre at just the thought of being inside you. 

A puffy vein catches on your sappy entrance and you find yourself letting off a moan, spine arching into his bulging pecs. And all you can hear are his rasping chuckles, something dangerous. “Ya seriously think Toji Fushiguro wouldn’t be able to make ya cum?”

And it was a rhetorical question - something to make your bottom lip wobble oh-so-cutely just the way he liked. 

But when you’re steeling your hazy gaze on him and shaking your head? Oh, if Toji was any lesser man then he might’ve just cum right then and there. 

Aching shaft throbbing out a rapid little ba-dump–! right around your gummy ring of muscle. Stretching you out agape, Toji’s of such staggering size that he has to splay out his feet flat on the springy mattress - rutting up in sloppy strikes to your mushy walls just to fit inside. 

He takes a fat few fingers to pry open your leaky maw, thumbing apart your kiss-bitten lips until your tongue lolls out automatically for him to spit-

“See that?” Toji thumbs away the see-through splatter sprayed at the edges of your cockdrunken grin, murmuring. “Show me- show me.”

“Ngh- s-so dirty, Toji.” You whine, jittery body wracking with shivers after every inch he slipped inside of you. After every moment spent basking in his heady gaze, willowy eyes narrowing down when you dart out your tongue to put that webbed mass of saliva all on display. 

“H-heh, yeahhhh, atta girl. Mine inside n’ out now.” Your eyes slide allll the way to the back of your weary lids when he splats your tastebuds with- not one, but two more weighty wads of spittle. Closing your slackened jaw shut with one hand, the other finds itself cushioned underneath his sweat-dampened locks. Biceps flexing sexily, your stomach tightens in need. “Ride yerself stupid on me now, why don’t ya- Make that pussy cum.”

He’s pounding up into you like he hated you - like he hated those stupid memories of faking your orgasms in the years before. Wanted to prove himself with every syrupy peck at goopy pussy. 

Breaths spilling out in clouded puffs, your nose crinkles at the way that you’re stumbling to take such copious inches of him. Every bounce swabbing Toji’s rounded mushroom tip at the deepest sponges of your cervix, “Shit- shit, s-so big–”

“Yeah? Big, huh? Just big?” 

Babbling away, “Really, really big.”

And that only made him harder - bulging out your tautly stretched walls until you were wrapped around him like a clingy second skin. Until you were molding to every bit of his circumference and bumpy veins. Meeting your pap! pap! papping! cadence with mean bucks of his own, Toji wastes no time rolling the plump hill of his thumb across your clit. “See her? That cute, needy clit? Ever had her played with?”

“O-only on my own.” You’re sinking your teeth into your quivering lower lip to stop the overspilling squeals - but it doesn’t work. Not when every lil’ calloused heart being drawn on your bundled nub makes you see stars, “Feels so good Toji—”

“What’d I tell ya, silly girl?” Oh, he’s so smug. Stray hand grazing down your spine in a little massage that makes your hips stutter down even harder. Faster. With a quirked brow, Toji feels himself grin at the wet little slurps slurring from between your bloated lips. Your other ones. “Damn, real hngh- chatty she is- hold on, you’re gonna loooove this, doll.”

Your head bobbles stupidly, mewling. “Love wh-wha- oh.”

In the split-second it takes the honeyed syllables to fall from your mouth - Toji’s fucking them out just as fast. With a jagged, drilling thud! of his fattened cockhead against your g-spot. 

For the first time ever.

“Tha’s your g-spot.” Rovering up the globed pad of his index all up your tummy, you flinch when he presses hard down where his length was striking the very bottom of your pussy. “My favorite.”

“H-hit it again-” 

“Tch, greedy.”

Your throat is rendered so very parched with every soppy French kiss he planting on your magical spots. Once. Twice. Thrice. You were addicted. So many times that you can’t help but lose count and drool- “Fuuuuck. Oh my god, th-there. There- I’m so close.”

“Shush, girl.” A bulky hand plasters over your noisy mouth, seeping Toji’s steaming hot skin with glossy lathers of your spilling saliva. He nods downwards, where you were screaming out squelches. “Give ‘er some respect, she’s bein’ fucked properly for the fist time n’ wants to speak.”

You were being fucked properly for the fist time.

And it seemed like Toji had no thoughts of stopping - no thoughts of even slowing down from the way he was spearheading every tender orifice homed inside of you. Making you dizzier and dizzier and dizzier with each passing second-

“Toj- mmpf- Toji-” you’re sobbing, like a little mantra. Like the only thing in your mind right now - and he knew it, smugly. 

Pulling the curved edges of his fingers away with a slick few strings of juices connecting them, it’s the last thing you register before the solid spank. “Cum.”

You were so pretty when you hit your high. He thinks he might be in….love.

All throaty moans of Tooooji, and your lashes glazing with thick layers upon layers of tears. Hitting headfirst into the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had, it’s all you can do to throw your head back and clench around Toji’s thick, throbbing length tightly. 

Dirtily. Until he was hissing and fighting to drag you n’ your gripping cunt with one big, beefy arm to fuck you through your high.

“Tha’s why you couldn’t ngh- c-cum, doll.” He spits into your open mouth, letting you claw and bite and ruin the steamy plane of his sweat-simmered flesh. “Wasn’t fucked properly- wasn’t- s’alright. Toji’s here, Toji’s makin’ you cum. Gonna take gooood f-fucking ah- care of you.”

And your vision tinges with black, treacly slit grinding back against the delicious curve of his plumpened balls. Head static, entire body still wracking with shivers when you feel it-

He’s teasing an innocent kiss near the curled corner of your mouth. Feverish. “Now…have ya ever heard of squirting, doll?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Ladies first.

“Never?”

“Never.” 

Fuck- a gorgeous girl like you and none of those boys have ever even made your pretty pussy cum? 

Your coworker finds himself gulping, thickened digits trekking up to his yellow tie and loosening. He feels so…feverish at the thought.

Thank god it was just the two of you working overtime tonight.

And even clearing his throat doesn’t make that ragged edge of his words bate, doesn’t make him sound any less feral. Eyes molten and hot on yours, you catch the way the tips of Nanami’s ears scorch bright red. “I-if you would like, darling…I could show you how a real man fucks.”

That’s how you found yourself like this - pinned face-down on your corporate cubicle desk, maw leaking saturated waves of drool onto documents you were sure were important. Struggling to squirm against the shackles of his tie with every pressurized pound-

Ptwah! A messy wad of something slick and slippery strikes your overstuffed pussy, spittle smeared across your bulging folds with a sultry swipe of Nanami’s fat thumb. 

“Kento–”

“Almost hah- almost there, my love.” He’s gruffing out in a roughly condensed pant from behind you, hot breath hitting the back of your neck and making your skin simmer with goosebumps. The doughy curve of his length twitches, “Just a little longer.”

“L-longer?” You’re babbling away stupidly through flooding strings of saliva, head able to lift only a few centimeters off of the cool plane of your office desk. “Are you gonna c-cum too, Kento?”

“Ladies first.”

And, shit- Nanami Kento might be known around the office as the perfect gentleman - but when he fucked, he fucked you so filthy. Like no one else ever had before.

You swear you could feel your goopy walls contracting and molding to every hot, weighty square inch of him.

Curling a few dexterous fingers underneath where your wrists were pinned haplessly behind your back, all it takes is the tiniest of jerks for Nanami to lift you cleanly off the desk. With one hand, weightless. 

Pressing a sweet, sweet kiss against your sweaty temple, he was hunched over you so close now with the changed angle. And you could count every flex of Nanami’s thick thighs pushing you from behind, every scratch of his tawny happy trail against the jiggling curve of your ass.

Humming, “Mhm— this cute cunt’s tellin’ me that she’s gonna cum right about…” One soft peck at the corner of your mouth, and then another one from his globular tip against your g-spot. Hard. “-now.”

And when has Nanami ever been wrong?

It takes one- two thuds! of his bulky tip crashing into your most tender spots before your vision closes and you see black. Jaw dropping open to gape n’ close soundlessly, brows furrowing at the heat in your tummy because shit, it feels so good.

Your melty walls clinging onto his shaft so cozily- “Fuck, s’f-fucking tight. Can barely even fuck you through your cute high. How are ya even ngh- taking this big fucking cock, darling?”

“Wait-” you’re trilling away like his favorite song. Every dab of his weepy orifice into your cunt making you sob, “Oh my god- feels so- so good. So fuck! D-does it always feel like this, Ken–?”

“Awww, poor girl missin’ out.” Nanami’s glissading pecs stick to your back like a cushion, rumbling. Hips hitting yours with a thwack! thwack! thwack! that leaves you craving carnally for more. “Gotta teach her proper- teach- teach her properly.”

Before you can even ask what he means - before you can even register Nanami’s moans - he’s latching on a few fingertips onto your plump clit. Rolling over and over in lazy circles-

“Cute lil’ clit- poor thing’s never been given ngh- loving before.” Oh, he’s been holding this back - heart racing at the way you’d cum all over his cock and nothing but his cock. And Nanami sounds desperate now. “Clench ‘round me, my love- clench. Please.”

Heedlessly, you’re listening to his exact words before you even register them.

Dewy walls squeezing around Nanami’s girthy length, massaging every lightning bolt of his veins. His slit. Everything. And he’s losing his fucking mind- 

“Ohhh—” Planting kiss after kiss on your neck, he tugs you with that lecherous tie wrapped around your wrists until you were just plastered all across Nanami’s Herculean front. “Good, huh? Good? Can you say biiig stretch?”

“B-big-”

“Mhm?”

“Biiig s-stretch-” God, he was fucking you until you felt shy.

“Atta girl.”

“Feels so w-weird, Ken–” You’re yelping, pearly gumdrop of tears welling up behind your lids at the way you feel so raw. Your sensitive walls pried apart with Nanami’s flaming red tip, probing inside until it felt like he was jackhammering your very lungs. “M’all- ngh- extra s-sensitive and- ah!”

And you don’t know what you expected Nanami to do - you don’t know how you expected him to react. But it certainly wasn’t for him to snicker. 

Octaves higher, reverent. 

“Awww, my overstimulated girl.” Murked clouds hit your prespired neck, and it’s as if his strokes get impossibly deeper. Faster. Sloppier. So, so messy on your clit that your syrupy ribbons of slick puddle on the ground with a spattering splat! “Don’t worry, m’g-gonna make it allll better- ya here? Gonna make you feel so good.”

You can’t even think at this point. “Good?”

“Mhm–” Within only a few blinks, a tannish veiny forearm takes up your blurry vision. Nudging your slobbering lips, “Now bite.”

Your teeth sink into his muscled mounds of flesh before you can stop yourself - and Nanami’s letting his head fall before he can. A grated f-fuck! escaping him once he graces your snug pussy with a thrust so harsh that it leaves your legs dangling in midair. 

You think you’re cumming again for the second time - you think you’re blanking out. But the only thing you can feel right now is the scorching hot dripping of Nanami’s warm cum seeping into each nook n’ cranny inside you.

Overspilling from your puffy lips. Sloshing around with every drilling stab-

“Now that’s called a c-creampie, darlin’.” He’s groaning out - and you know what it is. You can feel it swashing down in buttery rivulets from the insides of your thighs, sticking to your warm innards like a sloppy second skin. And he’s still pounding you utterly stupid- “Say ngh- ‘creampie’ f’me?”

You’re whimpering, wrung so tautly that it felt like you were about to snap. “C-creampie.”

“Good…good girl.” Nanami’s purring, sneaking in a thumb to pattern little drawings all over the ivory splatters of cum topping your clit. Plugging those very same fingers into your mouth- “Now can you ngh- say ‘Ken, please b-breed me’, my love?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Never enough?!

“S-Suguru, I’m gonna-”

“Damn right.” He’s spitting glinting speckles of spit past your slackened lips, narrowed eyes boring down at you deeply through an inky curtain of bangs. The look in them is animalistic. “Again- cum f’me again. Cum goddammit-”

With your head striking the ends of the puffy pillow with a thud! you swear your entire body shivers as if shocked by a thousand volts of electricity. Crashing headfirst into so many white-hot peaks of bliss that it makes your head spin.

Over and over.

And it’s just about all you can manage to force your boneless limbs right now to throw your hands around Geto’s sweat-glistened back and claw your way back to sanity. “M’cumming m’cumming m’cumming.”

“Fuck!” He hisses at the agonizing sting that only makes Geto’s puffy cockhead twitch ‘round your gooey insides. Tight. “Got ya fucking addicted now, huh? Needy lil’ slut.”

It could’ve been your fifth orgasm of the night - hell, it could’ve been the five-hundredth and you wouldn’t have known at this point. 

Because Geto Suguru wasn’t just making up for a single round of missed orgasms - he was well and fully intent on making up for all of them.

And you’ve barely stolen back heady clouds of your breath, barely even blinked the woozy vision back into your eyes before Geto gives your fluttering cunt a sharp spank. Snickering mercilessly at the way you’re flinching your spine into a deep curvature. 

Cute. 

Padded kneecaps smearing your helpless thighs ever-wider in a mating press so filthy it couldn’t even be called one right now. You can only watch as Geto’s toned hips slow down until he was barely even grinding. Lazy, sensual drags of his swollen shaft up n’ down your tender walls. 

He smears the doughy fringes of his fingertips all over where you were simply bulging to desperately accommodate his size, “Not gonna s-say ‘thank you’ for your fifth orgasm, gorgeous?”

“Wh-wha- thank- ngh!” Your veins boil with embarrassment at how you can only gurgle and gasp right about now, a thick stream of drool flooding from the edges of your mouth. “Sugu—”

“Oh?” Before you know it, there’s a searing grasp on your scalp - Geto. His perfectly manicured fingers clawing onto the sweat-dampened crown of your head and dragging you mercilessly off of the drenched mattress. All the way until your tears cooled with his murked puffs, “What was that?”

Teeth drawn, canines glinting. He was snarling. 

You’re squirming impatiently, jostling his split-ended tip in wet swivels around your greedy cunt. Still throbbing. Still unmoving. “Said- ngh-”

Bent alllll the way back - he’s angling his ears to face your fucked-out face with a grin, tightening that shackle-like hold on you until you were keening. Enjoying this way too much. “What? What was that? How bad do you hah- want it because m’not moving an inch.”

You didn’t even know if you could cum at this point - whether you could physically even handle it. Stringing endless beads of tears from your eyes, skin breaking out with heaps upon heaps of shivers.

Sensitive. 

“Can’t- can’t even-” And the only time you’re seeing his rude façade splinter is once your trembly fingers trek upwards to clasp around Geto’s own slender throat. Tight. His breath hitches, bumpy Adam’s apple bobbing underneath your touch-

Fuck.

Fuck.

And he can’t fucking stop himself from giving in to slash your slick-buttered cervix with a sudden thrust. Arching off of the soaked-through bed with a slightly singing creak! the clammy skin of Geto’s pelvis sticks to your own like glue. Smearing and oh-so-sloppy.

All that it takes for the words to be fucked out of you cockdrunkenly, still twitching with the remnants of your previous orgasm. “Th-thank- Thank you, Suguru–”

Oh, what a sight it was.

With Geto’s eyes glazed over, long Stygian lashes flickering like they were about to screw shut. High cheekbones radiating off scorching waves of his bright blush, and- and he was drooling. 

A thin, silvery line of saliva that spattered from the edges of his oh-so-feral snarl. “Y-yeah?” Oh, his pretty baritone cracks many multiple octaves higher. “Now you can sh-show some fucking ngh- appreciation, can’t you?”

“Sugu-”

“Shut up.” One push. Two. Three. Until it felt like the scratch of Geto’s drenched black happy trail against your pelvis was going to brand permanently on your skin, scratching something deep and primal seated inside of you. He darts out his candied pink tongue, “Suck on m’tongue.”

And when you do it’s like your favorite bubblegum candy, he tasted so sweet - and he was fucking you the exact opposite. Quick, rugged thrusts that rendered you speechless-

“S-stupid girl- isn’t that right gorgeous?” Muffled and mean. It takes you a few tizzy seconds to realize that Geto wasn’t even talking to you at this point - clouded amethyst eyes locked on your saturated pussy. The way she was swallowing his reddened length endlessly, “Doesn’t even know what she m-missed out on ngh-”

Each pressurized force of his pounds left your heart racing, swabbing to leave geysers of pre in softened spots that you didn’t even realize you had - hell, you might just be falling in love. 

Fingers dipping away from the prespired column of his flushed neck, just a mere slippery inch before you’re startled by his parched voice. Shaky. Begging. “No- nooo you d-don’t-” Geto’s clasp on your wrist is bruising - permanent. Wrapping your fingers back where they were beginning to form red banded marks ‘round his throat. Tightly. “Ch-choke me- choke me while I make you cum a sixth time, gorgeous.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Sweet Expresso

“Oh, baby…” Choso’s drawing out in a sweet, simpering sigh - entire mouth just watering at the sloppy bucketloads of slick pouring from between your sappy folds. It was like he had his favorite meal all laid out in front of him. “Baby baby baby—”

Your legs splayed apart on the soft mattress, twitching ever-so-slightly with every hot cloud of breath that your awestruck best friend was panting out. 

In love with you. In love with your drooling cunt.

Back arching off of the sticky sheets, you’re lifting your hand to run over Choso’s long mahogany locks. Lower lip jutting out in a way that makes him almost whine- 

“T-told you, Cho- no ex of mine has ever made me cum before by eating me out- ah!”

And Choso Kamo wasn’t one to interrupt his lovely lady. He wasn’t one to cut off the pretty noises you were making before they’d finished ringing in his ears - but now?

Oh, now he’s promptly bludgeoning his clammy head between your heated thighs. Stealing a hypnotized little kiss right on the edge of your puffy clit. Again. And again. And again and again and-

“F-fuck.” He’s gurgling in a hoarse little tone all the way from the back of his throat, a thin line of drool spraying from the upturned corners of Choso’s plump lips because he just couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m gonna m-make you cum, baby- me.”

You’re almost breathless at the way he sounded so desperate that it was pained; dark chestnut brows scrunching together as if in prayer. “R-really?”

It didn’t matter to him what your tch- exes have failed to do before, he neve thought they were good enough for you anyway.

Choso saw a pretty pussy he wanted to kiss over n’ over again and he couldn’t stop. 

Pointed peak of his button nose pressing right into the perk of your clit, the scratchy pads of his tastebuds everywhere. Every vibration of Choso’s tremoring your snug outer ring, whimpering. “Yeah. Yeah, want you to cum- need- need you to cum.”

“Seems like you want me to cum more than ngh- I do, Cho–” You’re giggling out, eyes hazy with the curling swashes of his mouth pressing repeated French kisses on your puffed-up pussylips. 

“Ngh-” God, he sounded so pretty - whining the very moment you comb your trembly digits through Choso’s velvety strands. Cheeks painted red with a delicate blush, his breath hitches just darting his eyes up to meet your own. Fully heart-eyed. “I do. Need to show m-my best friend what she’s been missing, baby.”

Thumbing apart the gluey fringes of your folds with a squelched pap! You’re feeling his plump tongue swirl out saturated hearts right on the sultry target of your clit - and he’s never looked more like he’s in heaven. 

“Gonna f-fuck her now, m’kay–?” Just the thought of filling your snugly winking cunt up with his tongue is enough to have Choso’s hips rutting down on the mattress mindlessly. Groaning. 

Needy.

He wanted you so badly - he’s been wanting you so badly for years and years and years - that you’ve barely even started your lazy nodding before he snarls back his teeth to swipe swiftly into your leaky hole. Ragged texture of his tongue swiveling into every ridge and crevice-

“S-so warm–” you hiccup, fingers tangling into Choso’s perspiration-matted hair because he was moving ravenously. Animalistically. Your oh-so-gentle best friend- you couldn’t even control him at this point.

And he couldn’t control himself.

Pinning you down with his powerful upper body, the curve of his sculpted deltoids dig into your rutting mounds of flesh once Choso grinds his chin underneath your treacly slit and roughly shoves your thighs apart. Further n’ further until it burned. 

Groaning into the weepy mound of your cunt, his tongue slashes in an urgent in and out that makes your hips jerk- shit, you can’t help but think mindlessly that you wanted this…forever. 

“H-hold on–” Choso darts out one hand to guide both of your own - allll the way until you’re steering the soft spheroids of his dishevelled spacebuns. Tightly. “Hold on t’me, baby. Use me- use me.”

He wanted you to use his hair to guide him. Faster. 

And doing it so fervently. Folding to your every want and whim when you’re angling your hips into a tempo just the way you like it - Choso’s chin clacking into the base of your pussy, his nose rovering all over your sensitive clit. With squelch after squelch, you swear you feel him stall over that fleshy nub to take a loooong sniff of your cunt-

“Shiiiit- d-didn’t know you were s-so good-” You’re practically shrilling out, ogling the bob of his Adam’s apple after every gulp of your sweet, sweet sap. Your slick overfloods his mouth and puddles right up to his cheekbones. “Where did you even learn this?”

And for perhaps the first time ever in his life, your best friend doesn’t answer you immediately. 

He doesn’t do anything but let the bed sing out splintering creaks! when he increases the speed of his motions - until you’re rendered spellbound. 

You’re tugging more forcefully on one of his knotted spacebuns and he gives you the sweetest full-bodied whine. 

“I i-imagined it.” Comes the shy answer, and a long few inches of two of Choso’s ringed fingers pumping your goopy cavern doubly full. He makes your tummy lurch just by gliding over your pretty g-spot, whispering. “With…you. With you all the time.”

And you don’t know whether it’s that little confession, you don’t know whether it’s the sudden press off of his doughy fingerpads into the sweltering hot bullseye of your g-spot - but something about it makes you cum.

All of a sudden.

“Choso-” Your breath hitches, pushing him ever-deeper between your legs. Spine electrifying with something white-hot, seeing fucking stars. He was right - you were missing out. “Choso.”

And if you were surprised, then Choso was enchanted. 

Hips coming down hard to hump against the puffy sheets on the bed - feral. Through the crack in your woozy eyes, you sneak glimpses at the way his dark eyes twinkle, tips of his ears blazing red.

So pretty. The sight was enough to make your hips twitch with more and more sparks of euphoria - yeah, you were really missing out before this.

Long tongue slithering out to gyrate over and over fucking you through your high, your skin beads with blissed-out sweat with every peak he’s trawling out. Brows furrowed, Choso just couldn’t decide between licking his lips for the voluminous ounces of slick clinging onto his skin or fucking his wet muscle back into your wet mess again and again and-

“Fuh-fuck—” You’re hearing from above you, still so numb from your orgasm that it takes you a long few seconds to even realize that Choso had pulled away from his favorite spot making out with your pussy. And was now hovering over you with his red, furious cock clasped in one fist-

Your mouth lacquers with a fresh wave of greedy spit, dryly. “Cho?”

“Fuck fuck fuck m’sorry m’cumming–” He’s spitting hotly, fingers flying furious down the tender edges of his girth. Hunching over until his washboard abs were rippling almost painfully, every inch of skin burned an aroused red. “I can’t stop- I can’t stop, baby—!”

“Give it t’me.” You’re managing out, giggling at the strained whine it makes Choso spill out into the air. “Give it all to me, baby.”

His hulking body jolts like he’s been shocked with a million bolts of lightning at the mere sound of your voice. Gasping, “Don’t- don’t call me that or m’gonna-” 

But it’s too late. 

He’s not even given the mercy of finishing his sentence before Choso’s frosting your open entrance with such thick globs of cum. Ribbon after ribbon that sprays over your drooling slit in such a viciously syrupy sheen. 

“Look- look what you’ve done.” He babbles away, slurring over the very curve of his mushroomed tip down your pussy - and it makes such a mess that Choso just can’t help but imagine how much messier it would be if he plugged you full of his seed from your deepest innards. Coral pink mouth slacking into an oh! at the puddles oozing below you. “Fuck- cumming jus’ from eatin’ ya out- ngh- o-only you, my baby.”

Sloppy.

But what was even sloppier was the way that it takes only two seconds for Choso to sift down till he was back lips-to-lips with your ballooned pussymound. Smiling. Giggling to himself. 

You can only watch in awe when he takes a looong lick up your overstimulated slit, purposefully showing off the creamy layers upon layers all over his tongue. So much of it that you can barely see any usual bubblegum pink-

“C-can we kiss, baby–?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Big, big O

“Hm? Have I got ya babbling like a cockdrunk lil’ slut already or what, ma?” Sukuna’s entrapping your cheeks between two fat fingers in an embarrassing little pout. The curled edges of his nails poking your heated skin, and he looks into your heart-eyes deeply. “Because I swear I heard ya say no one else has ever made ya cum.”

“I-it’s true–” you’re stuttering out, barely louder than the sappy squelches ringing from below. Your hips were rutting almost mindlessly into his and he found that so cute. 

Well, if he wasn’t fucking irritated right now, that is.

Not at you - no, never at you even though he’ll never ever admit that. More so at those pesky lil’ losers before him that didn’t know how to work your pretty pussy properly.

So instead the king of curses slouches back on his decadent throne room, and if someone was to walk into his court - let them. 

He’s leaving a stinging little swat! right at where your pussylips were spewing out the most ribbons of sloppy slick. Tugging your plump folds apart to give a thorough few slides of his dually aching cocks, “Stupid girl. I’ll be fucking damned if I never make my human cum.”

“Wh-wha-” Your eyes are snapping open with a gasp, immediately darting down to where Sukuna’s lengths stood hot and throbbing. He was certainly staggeringly bigger than anyone else you’ve had before…both of him. 

“Nuh uh- are you second-guessing your king, girl-” Pointed, you’re rewarded with numerous spanks upon spanks that leave your perked clit stinging. His globular tip cleaning off the geysers of slick leaking out of you, “Now spread those legs n’ take it.”

Hands clawing precariously onto the mountain of his broad shoulders when Sukuna’s meaty thighs start bouncing to inch you down-

Fuck, you can’t help but lean all back and- god, it felt like you were being split apart. Two plummy crownheads mazing past your snug entrance, Sukuna was bullying up into every single sensitive orifice inside you without even trying. 

“Gonna do more than make you c-cum, brat- just you fuckin’ wait. ” He’s spitting out into your drunkenly open maw, face twisted into a feral growl. “Just watch, ohhh just you watch.”

So hot inside of you, every wiry string of precum leftover in your gummy walls after each papping ride was scorching - and the only thing hotter was that fat, glutinous brush of something wet. Squelching. 

Sukuna’s cushy pecs rumble instantaneously with a thunderous groan, “Mmm tastes as sweet as sh-she looks.”

“Wh-what is–” And you don’t know where to look - Sukuna’s handsome face, where he looked so very fucked, or down where his second monstrous mouth was making out with your overstuffed pussy. 

He’s inching back even further on his throne to let the large glistening tongue - almost the size of your face - loll out. Drawing deft little circles on your teary slit, honing down right on the button of your clit. Tasting you. Savoring you. “Oh.”

“Oh? Oh?” Rolling his crimson eyes, “That all you can say? Maybe I really have fucked ya stupid.”

“N-no, I–” But you were - ah, you were. 

All it takes is for Sukuna to lurch off of the sticky cushion of the throne with a creaking schwaf! Sultry hipbones smacking into the backs of your thighs, up n’ down. He’s hitting the very back of your dewy cervix with a resounding thud! drawing long, long lines with the sprinkling ends of his cocks. 

God- pounding into places you never even knew existed before. Rubbing his puffed-up veins against the grazing area of your tender g-spot. Sukuna was having the time of his life making you break-

“H-heh, yeah right— S’that why you’re all drooling f’me, ma?” A plump palm comes down on your spit-flooded mouth to lather itself in a filthy glaze of saliva, all trickling n’ spilling down the sides of Sukuna’s wrist. “As if the king wouldn’t be able to make this pretty pussy cum- a-as if m’like those useless bastards.”

Speaking more to himself than you at this point. He’s muttering underneath his breath, light coral bows pinching together and concentrating. 

Concentrating on striking your bulging magical spots with each second of his ruthless staccato - he wasn’t letting up just because it was your first time about to orgasm from someone else. He wasn’t going to go easy on you- no, you only find yourself growing ever-spellbound with each slip n’ slide of his matchingly rock-hard shafts.

Plap! The curved edge of his tongue swirls around your clit, and you all but sob. “F-faster, Kuna—”

Kuna, huh? He’s finding his brows quirking up - and if there was a faint pinkish blush breezing across his cheeks, well, then he was just glad the increasing pace of his hips is enough to drive you crazy ‘nough not to notice. Growling, “Greedy greedy.”

With two hands latched onto your hips, and another on the crown of your head to push you rudely into each one of his incoming thrusts, you’re being fucked like he had a point to prove. 

“H-harder—” Your arms wrap in a wobbly semi-circle looped around his thick neck - and if there was anything that could get you even wetter right now, then it was a firsthand eyeful of your size difference. 

“As you wish, ma’am–” Gazing down at his slobbery second tongue below, “Jus’ that way- make her scream.”

Scream you did. 

Because Sukuna was monstrous, in both size and the rugged circular brandings he was leaving on your cervix. And the drag of his scratchy tastebuds down your pulsing clit- Oh, you could feel your thighs starting to shake already.

“S’gonna be a big one–” He’s tittering from above, something dangerous glinting in both sets of his cursed eyes. Peering in even closer - until you could count each heady pant of his - something catches Sukuna’s eyes and his breath hitches. “Oho? A reeeeal big one.”

And when he meant big - he meant big. 

Because in only a few merciless hits, you’re not just cumming - you’re squirting. In thick, generous heavals of sloshing slick that drip down the sides of his sculptured front. It glazes all the way down to puddle at his throne, it makes such a slobbering mess that you can’t rip your ogling eyes away from it. 

Gasping for air, head lolling from side to side at the sheer intensity. The buzzing electricity that sprints down your spine goes on for ages. 

“What’d I tell ya? Love when you’re filthy, ma.” Sukuna gives your quivering cunt another spank of good job with the flattened base of his velveteen tongue. 

Shit, how his second mouth was enjoying every peak of your orgasm.

Lapping out graciously to catch every fountaining squirt, the entirety of his pinkish muscle coats with a lather of pure gloss. He was drinking you in like he was addicted.

He is.

And you thought that might be it, you didn’t think with all your cottony mind that he would continue edging his tongue to slip right past your mushy hole. Smearing your entrance widely agape until your vision was flashing blissful white, “Do that f’me on my hah- tongue again, ma, n’ I’ll breed ya until you can’t remember your name.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - “She jus’ came.”

And that’s what makes you finally pry your gluey eyelids apart, batting tearily up at the filthy, filthy image of Gojo still plastered to your phone. 

Pert, bubblegum tongue peeking out when he plugs his puffy pink head between your bawling folds and lets out a drawling sigh— “Fuck- y-you get me so hard, sweetheart.”

It’s almost as if he’s forgotten the yelling from your ex on the other end of the phone already. Forgotten everything but how warm n’ soft you were - you always did have that effect on him. 

And it’s with leisurely, drunken motions that the strongest takes a looong few seconds to swab the doughy edges of his pale thumb over your slit. Up n’ down. Making you throb in a rapid ba-dump–! as soon as he smears the scorching hot ounces of sappy slick escaping from you. 

Before darting them into his parched mouth with an exaggerated slurp! 

There’s another tinny crackle from the call that makes Gojo’s pretty features twist in dark delight-

“T-Toru…” You’re squirming your hips impatiently, giving his pre-glossed, oozing tip treacly peck after peck. You might’ve just cum, but with Gojo your body always wanted more. “‘Nough teasing.”

“Ohhh? What’s that? This c-cute cunt wants me that bad, huh?” He’s snickering out into the speaker, a cute lil’ dimple embedding itself onto the edge of his smirk. “Bet you never had her begging for you like that, huh? Not when you’ve never even made her cum.”

Shit, as if to prove his point, he’s leaving a few generous heaps of sappy precum on your bloated folds. 

Streaming out layer after layer that makes Gojo slide in even deeper. That makes him swipe down a few fingers across where you were most puckered and forcing out a saturated squelch. “Heh, that’s the sound of ‘er agreeing with me.”

Gasping, you’re swatting at the bulging curve of Gojo’s bicep - something that only makes his mushroomed tip even more achingly hard. 

“Ah ah- hold on, buddy.” Before you know it, you’re feeling the sultry pap! pap! pap! of Gojo’s rounded thumb circling your overwhelmed clit. Sensitive. Buzzing with a few stray dredges of cursed energy, “M’about to do something your loser ass had never even hah- heard of.”

You were so pretty like this - his gorgeous girl. And you only ever deserved the best. So what if he made a show for that bastard ex of yours that just wouldn’t stop blasting your phone with calls?

He was going to make you his star.

“Prettyyyy fuckin’ pussy.” Gojo’s whispering - low, hoarse. Almost to himself when he slips apart your adhesive-like lips to steal a solid eyeful of your perked hood. “You’re missing out real bad, y’know?” 

He really, really can’t help the few vibrating sparks bleeding through his thickened digits. Pressing down hard on that buttony tip of your clit, twisting n’ turning in all the right lazy circles, over and over. Just a single ounce of Gojo’s touch is enough to make your tummy lurch heedlessly, to make your thighs shake when he rovers ravenously to your nub-

And pinches. 

“Sh-shit.” You’re gurgling out, head bent stupidly backwards into the velvety pillowcase. Hands clawing red all over the supple mountains of his deltoids. And you swear you can count each and every flex- “Toru- Toru, I’m–”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence before Gojo’s narrating it all. 

Cerulean eyes glazed over with something…feral, coral pink lips loosening into a stark oh! Ones that Gojo himself has to lick over before he can even begin to rasp, “O-oh? Look at thaaat-”

Your maw slackens with free rivers of saliva that Gojo leans in and licks clean off. Giggling - giggling - once your gooey walls clench around the rock-hard crown of his cock, snug with that fat circumference. “Made her c-cum with jus’ my ngh- tip in her. She had to ngh- fake that all the time with you, didn’t she?”

He was in awe.

You wonder whether he’s even breathing at this point. Thinking.

But it was like Gojo had lost all control of his body - moving yards and yards in front of his melty mind. Because as soon as you can manage to jerk your head off of the perspiration-drenched pillow, he’s moving. Washboard abs tensing deliciously. Rutting. 

All hot, plump inches of Gojo’s shaft rub your every tender orifice through and through. He’s pushing and pushing past your weepy pussylips like he never ever wanted to stop. Couldn’t stop.

“Fuck yeah–” You’re startling at the sudden syllables wrenching out of Gojo’s bobbing Adam’s apple, a slow line of sweat starting to trickle down his throat. But he simply flashes you one more sleazy grin, and two more pinches. “Show me wh-where I am, sweetheart- can you do that for Toru?”

“Y-yeah.” You’re whining, and somewhere in the distance sounds a gasp. The unsteady ends of your fingers curve all the way to about halfway up your tummy, pressuring a nudge at the cylindrical globe of Gojo’s crownhead mazing through you. Only halfway still. “Here, all the way u-up in my ngh- womb.

“Good girl–” He’s holding your mushy folds tighter together in a squeeze, so that his veiny cock was smearing even cozier - even louder. Squelch after squelch. Voice hardening, “Hear that? Fuck- fucking lucky you didn’t video call.” Slurring with every rugged thrust, it’s so hot inside you that he feels like he’s melting. Head lolling ever-so-slightly, “M’about to hit her cute g-spot now, but you wouldn’t know h-heh anything about that, right?”

If there was a response then you didn’t hear it. You can’t, because your ears are popping the very next second. Blurry vision tinging with black no matter how much you fluttered your heavy lids-

You think you’re cumming again. Once more. Twice more - so many years and years of missed orgasms crashing into you all at once until all you can do is latch onto Gojo’s muscled back and whine. 

And he loved every second. Meaty thighs massaging against yours, your boyfriend pounds you through every peak. Harshly. 

Tears bursting from the edges of your hazy eyes, head oh-so-cottony with the sheer burning stretch - it takes you a few seconds to realize. 

To realize that he’d finally, finally bottomed out with a stinging plap! of skin-on-skin, brushing a fat glide down that magical spot. And Gojo finds himself shivering, he finds himself hunching over.

SLAM!

Your veins boil greedily at the way you get even wetter once he reaches up to strikes a powerful hand down on his mahogany headboard and splits it in half. Easily. Tensing abs rubbing down your front, “That sound? The s-sound of me about to make her my wife n’ fuck her full of my ngh- kids, asshat.”

Then suddenly your ears resound with that familiar ending tone. And it was just you two.

Eyes darting syrupily upwards, “G-glad he’s never going to c-” 

Oh. 

You were fucked. 

Because Gojo’s eyes were blown wide - crazed. Smiling, and you think he’s never looked more like he was about to rack up a kill list higher than could be counted. 

Stray bolts of lightning curl at the ends of his snowy lashes, flickering when Gojo leans down to give the tummy bulge he was fucking into you a slow kiss. 

Lips grazing over his outlined puff, your heated skin gets hit with the splat! of something…wet. And it’s only then that you realize that you just made Gojo Satoru so pussydrunken that he was drooling. 

“Jus’ you n’ me now, girl.” His chuckles make your most sensitive spots vibrate, and Gojo bucks into you mindlessly. Half-way through, like he couldn’t even bear the thought of pulling out. Could never. “Jus’ say the word n’ you can use the hah- s-strongest like a fuh-fucktoy.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - EMERGENCY, DR.~

“Hm, labia majora and minora are supple and soft.”

“Dr. Higu-” You barely even have the time to catch your breath before you can catch the tail end of your sentence. Voice breaking off into a lecherous whimper the moment the stern man hovering above you swipes a thick thumb over your throbbing clit. 

Humming at the glossy rivulet of slick that seeps from between your puffed-up lips, it slathers a thick coating down his digits. “Good lubrication, clitoris is reactive, too. Spread yourself nice and open f’me?”

Before you even have the time to blink, Higuruma’s leaning back mere inches to take a looong, solid look at your splayed-out legs. You’re arching off of the cool examination table like such a slut-

“And above all–” He’s drawling away, and you swear you catch his lips quirk up into a sultry smirk. Dark brows arching, his strawberry pink tongue nips out at the heavenly sight of you. “-she’s pretty.”

This inspection was both such torture and heaven for you. 

You’re whining, fists balling up mindlessly in his cottony medical coat - you can’t think. You can’t even say anything other than a few clouded pants of, “I- I need it- I just want to cum, but no one else has ever…”

“Ohhh, s’that so, sugar?” Your bottom lip wobbles like heedless jelly as soon as he caresses the side of your cheek. So close now that your tits heave against his rock-hard pecs, he’s boring into your yes so deeply. Pretty. “Then let Dr. Hiromi here help you.”

It took only mere minutes for Higuruma to have your face bullied down into the chilling plane of the table, a puddle of drool already ever-growing when he swabs his tip sensually down your slit. 

“Easy there, easy there- spread your legs f’me.” Just about all you can do to listen to listen to his every word, your capped knees smear until Higuruma was getting a sinful eyeful of your glistening cunt. Already aching and so, so wet. “Atta girl- so needy…so, so needy.”

You’re flinching - full-bodied and gasping - the second he strikes your slick-flooding entrance with three exact wads of messy spit. Rolling the wadded mess over your bloated clit, “Pubovaginalis is tight- reeeeal tight, heh. Wonder if I’d even fit, angel–?”

Veering your head back to catch sight of his painfully hard cock, your eyes travel down his veiny length - the way it seems never-endless. Massive. 

And suddenly you can’t help but let your mouth water at the way you want him inside you oh-so-badly. 

“Oh?” Higuruma’s deep bass sends shivers running down your spine, and you can’t believe how you’re so positively soaked and he hasn’t even put it in yet. “Lubrication increased significantly- s’this turn you on, sugar?”

“Yes- yes.” You can’t even lie- fuck, you can’t even stop yourself from pushing your hips back in repeated ruts that graze Higuruma’s slender, expert fingers against where your core was the hottest. 

Needy.

Cooing down at you, “Awww, s’alright—” The very sounds sends your heart racing, and your thighs shivering once he measures out a looong few inches from the very base of your treacly entrance to about halfway down your tummy. “S’gonna fit- m’gonna make it.”

Your jaw loosens as if you were stunned, “W-were you measuring out just how deep you’d be inside me- ”

“Of course, angel.” Dark tone much too smooth for the way that Higuruma was swashing aside his formal white coat to make room. “The muscularis will feel better ah- raw…” You needed him. To barely crown your drooling hole with the very rotund fringe of his fat tip, pushing. “Count now. Count every inch m’inside you.”

And a sudden dab into a bundle of nerves in your weepy orifice told you that he was serious. “C’mon- with me now. Oooone–‘

Your voice shaking as you whimper, “O-one…two.”

“Good girl.” Comes the response, and of course Higuruma was a good doctor. Of course he was rewarding you with a pinch to the hood of your nub, “Keep counting. Three–”

Drawing little patterns of his name right where you were most sensitive, he was poking his swollen veins saccharinely into every nook and cranny inside of you. Scouring. 

It just makes you melt. 

“Four- six?” The disbelief just kept piling on, and with a low moan into the hard surface of the table you’re bucking. Eager to find out for yourself just how many inches he was hiding away, grinding the plump of your clit over into his palm - all slathered in an oozing layer of slick now. “Sev- eight…eight!”

You swear you hear Higuruma snickering, “Close, but…” Right before he sucks in a sharply condensed breath and ruts- “-it’s nine.”

Bottoming out - finally. Until your spongy cervix recoils back with the sticky French snog of his readily puckered head, until your clit stings with the impact of his buxom balls thwacking!

And when Higuruma strikes, he hits. Dead-on into the bulging target of your g-spot, he’s laying on long n’ girthy inches that take up every square centimeter of space inside your snug pussy. Stretching out your glutinous walls to his exact shape until you almost feel like sobbing- “Hiromi–”

“Rhythmic muscularis contraction, body heart, heart rate increase- There we go, thereeee we f-fuckin’ go-” 

Did you just make Higuruma Hiromi stutter? You don’t know what you’re reeling from more - that, or the fact that you didn’t know who was cumming first. You feel him shiver above you, “You’re cumming, angel– congratulations.”

Were you? Fuck- you were, riding your hips back into his swollen inches to drag out the burning stars bursting behind your heavy lids. 

And Higuruma was just collapsing right down with you, his muscular body pinning you helplessly. Washboards abs practically melding into you and making your orgasm only increase with intensity.

Your mouth wrenches open with breathless whimpers upon whimpers and drivel, ones that Higuruma plugs up easily with just a few fingers over your maw. Tutting, “Hydration is important, sugar- though, you’re already like fuckin’ waterpark d-down hah- there.”

Not just with your own sugary juices - but Higuruma had cum, too. 

Sloshing around a warm river of cum that knocks on your womb, it was so thick frosting your hole and way down into your thighs below. Streaming out until you felt like you were bawling from below, feeling the weight of his seed stick to your walls all filthily.

But Higuruma doesn’t mind the mess - he fucking loves it. Loves how it paints glistening rings on his bulky base, loves the way your cunt twitches once he scoops the escaping ribbons back in with two fingers. “Now for a full body check-up, sugar.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[pearlymel]

Absolute Zeal

Sum. It was finally your turn to take care of your boyfriend, until everything twists around and you both end up a mess.

Warnings. NSFW, smut, fem reader, whiney zayne yes, unprotected sex, rough sex kinda, fluff. 2.2k words.

Notes. my exams are not stopping me (yet) from releasing yet another feral zayne.

Your boyfriend was absolutely out of it.

It wasn't long before Zayne noticed the effects of the chocolate, a slow warmth coursing through his veins, a slight sluggishness creeping into his movements.

He grinned lazily at you as you helped him outside, a slight wobble to his step. You were struggling, sure. But you kept up the tough act.

The cool air outside seemed to help clear his head a bit, but he was still far from sober, "my hero," he said, his voice still slightly slurred, "taking me home in my... slightly tipsy state. You're too kind.”

“Mhm, careful as you get in.” you instruct and Zayne obliges as he stumbled into the taxi, slumping against the back seat, trying to steady himself.

His gaze remained fixed on you as you climbed into the taxi after him. His eyes roamed over your face, “thank you," he murmured, "for taking care of me tonight.”

A hand smoothens to his cheek, up to his hair to comb it with your fingers before you tilt your head to peck his cheek, your hand encouraging him to rest on your shoulder.

He closed his eyes, a contented sigh escaping him, feeling safe and cared for in your presence.

…

“wake up, honey.” you whisper into Zayne's ear to wake him up from his light slumber. His eyes blinking slowly to get back to his senses.

He leaned against you heavily, allowing you to guide him out of the taxi, a quiet murmur of thanks escaping him.

The taxi driver watched the whole interaction silently after you payed him. ah, the young. "I miss my wife." He sighed to himself before driving off.

Meanwhile, you were pitifully watching Zayne entering the wrong passcode to his own home.

His fingers fumbled against the keypad as he tried to input his passcode, his normally steady hands betraying his current inebriated state. He let out a frustrated grunt, his brows furrowing in concentration as he tried again.

"Just... need to get this thing right..."

"Let the person who actually remembers the passcode of your home to enter it." you successfully entered the passcode, the lock clicking open with a satisfying sound.

Zayne let himself be led onto the plush couch by you after taking off his coat for more movement, a deep sigh escaping him as though he were sinking into heaven itself.

He let his eyes close briefly, revelling in the comfort of the soft cushions. He cracked one eye open lazily, a soft chuckle escaping him as he watched you fuss over his coat, gently removing it and draping it on the back of a nearby chair.

And with a gentle tug, he pulled you down onto the couch with him, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

You frown, “i should go get the hangover medicine—”

But his arm tightened around your waist in protest, pulling you closer to him before you could move. "No need," he shook his head, his voice huskier now. "Stay with me," he whispered, his voice low, filled with a yearning that went beyond simple physical attraction.

"After i get the medicine, hm? You'll regret it later," though he seemed too insistent. You couldn't budge, even when he was drunk, his strength was impressive.

Zayne groaned softly, his grip on you unrelenting. He rested his head on your shoulder, his face nuzzling against your neck, "later,"

"how much more?" you ask, your fingers tracing his jawline to sort of soothe him.

He drew in a slow, steady breath, his body relaxing against you. "Just a moment more like this."

Zayne leaned into your touch, his head slightly tilting as though seeking more of your caress. His arm around your waist remained securely wrapped, holding you close, holding you like you were a precious treasure, something to be cherished.

You continue caressing his skin, moving down to his messed up buttons and tie, making him flutter his eyes shut.

Despite the alcohol, a part of him was still very much aware, very much receptive to your touch. The way you undressed him, unbuttoning his shirt to help him breathe better, felt like a gentle, loving caress.

This is no good. “On a second thought, I'll just shower," he said, attempting to smooth out his disheveled hair. "A shower will help clear my head.” Zayne stood up after taking his arms away from your body, a bit unsteady on his feet, but adamant to make it to the shower on his own. He staggered slightly, leaning against the nearest wall for support.

…

You head to Zayne's study room in the meantime to explore it a bit out of curiosity while the shower is running in the background. Your fingertips brushed over the snowman displayed on the desk neatly which makes your lips curve.

It was not long after until you hear him in the living room, opening his laptop to answer an urgent call. Listening to him speak a few words. Even in this state, Dr Zayne is working hard.

Once the call ends, you show yourself from your hiding spot, “Even Dr Zayne's showers are hurried.” you comment in amusement.

Zayne's lips quirked into a wry smile as he acknowledged your observation. "In my profession, efficiency is key," he replied, “but," he added, his tone softening slightly as he drew closer, "I can assure you, I wasn't rushing for anyone else but you." He reached out to tenderly cup your cheek, his touch gentle but firm.

“It seems that.. The shower did not clear your head.”

"I suppose," he murmured, "you're quite intoxicating even without the alcohol.”

Zayne's next sudden advance caught you by surprise.

The unexpected aggression of pulling your arm towards him made you gasp. But as his lips pressed hard against yours, a surprised sound escaping your lips before you clung to him tightly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you returned the kiss, matching his hunger with your own.

Your fingers tangled in his hair while his hands cupped your cheeks, pushing you back until you were stumbling against his desk where he caught you in time to prevent you from completely losing your balance.

His glasses steamed slightly with each gasping breath. He looked down at you once your lips part, his eyes darkening until your fingers nudged at his glasses which tipped them over slightly, yet Zayne impatiently brushed aside your hand's attempt to fix his glasses and instead took his glasses off in one swift motion.

Hot.

His lips sought yours once more, his kiss hungrier, more urgent than before as he pushed you back against his desk. The sound of books and papers scattering echoed and falling with a loud thud that you couldn't seem to care about for now.

His lips traced a path down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin there, and your chew slightly on your lower lip. His teeth nip along your collarbone, his tongue soothing the slight sting, then repeating the action again and again.

This won't do.

"… You're drunk," you bluntly state, trying to stand from the desk to walk towards the drawer, "I'm getting the hangover medicine—"

His hands darted out to grab your wrists, gently yet firmly, preventing you from moving any further, “please." His grip on your wrists remained steady, his thumbs stroking the insides of your wrists as he leaned against your chest as if you just rejected him.

“I never let myself touch alcohol,” he breathed heavily, and that's when you recognize the slight snowflakes surrounding you both.

“But for you, I broke that rule. Because of you, everything is spiraling out of control...”

…

Zayne kicked open his bedroom door, the force of it slamming against the wall and bouncing back slightly. Without breaking the heated kiss, he carried you to his king-sized bed, the plush comforter and silken sheets welcoming as he lays you down gently.

His hands were almost shaking when he pulled your top off and tossed it carelessly to the floor. His fingertips traced the swell of your breasts, the delicate curves, before cupping them gently.

He dipped his head, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat before he's almost whimpering while rubbing his cheek against your cleavage, the warmth seeping through your skin and it's impossibly hard to stop the soft moans when his fingertips brush mindlessly along your nipples.

You were both almost a panting mess when his hands slid down to your hips, gripping them tightly as he ground his own against yours. Even through the fabric of his pants, you could feel the evidence of his arousal, the hard length of him pressing and rubbing against your clothed cunt with such hurry.

"Wrap your legs around me," he commanded, his voice low, almost raspy before he's kissing you messily, all tongue and teeth clashing together combined with his quiet whines when he continues rutting into you.

His body shifts, an arm extending towards the drawer but you stop himself from taking anything out, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers together instead.

He feels dizzy, and his hand squeezes yours before his other hand reaches for a pillow to place underneath your hips.

comfort comes first before he starts pounding into you.

Everything was gone. your panties, his belt and boxers all discarded away from his sight while he whispers your name as he grips his shaft to push his already leaking tip into your cunt to take whole.

“O-oh zayne—” A long, drawn-out moan spilled from your lips as Zayne filled you completely, stretching you around his hard, throbbing length. Your back arched off the bed, pressing your chest flush against his own, fingers digging into the muscular expanse of his back.

He was feral. He began to move, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in, setting a rough, fast paced.

The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust, and your eyes roll all the way back as whines combined with his heavy breaths and whimpers fill the air.

“A-ah, fuck, honey—” was all you managed to spill out before he's thrusting into you harder when he felt every clench and flutter around his aching cock, the velvet heat driving him to new heights of ecstasy.

“Zayne, zayne, zayne!” you chant in repeat breathlessly, his lips tries to connect with yours when he also feels his impending release drawing too close.

“Y-your zayne is here—” he practically breathes out as he manages to peck your lips, “Mmhn c-coming—” Zayne tries to muffle his whines against your skin when his hips jerked erratically as he emptied himself inside you, wave after wave of searing hot seed spilling into you.

The feeling of Zayne's thick, pulsing cock throbbing and twitching within you made you cum instantly. Your walls clamped down around him like a vice as you rode out your shared climax, hips continuing to rock slowly into you before coming to a halt.

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sound of your shared breaths, the rustle of sheets, the soft thump of his heart against yours.

…

You woke up in Zayne's bed, wrapped in his arms, a soft, contented sigh escaping you as you shifted slightly, feeling his warmth against your back.

The sunlight streamed in through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. As you turned to face him, you see zayne breathe peacefully, and it brings a faint smile to your face.

He looked younger, almost boyish in sleep, his lashes casting delicate shadows on his cheeks.

His eyelashes are really long. you think, fingertips brushing over his eyelids delicately.

Zayne's eyelids soon fluttered at the light touch of your fingers, and a low, appreciative hum escaped him. He leaned into your touch, seeking more of your warmth and comfort.

Slowly, his eyes opened, a sleepy, warm look in them as he regarded you with a slow, drowsy smile. "Good morning, love,"

[urprettylildoe]

𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊

...where you're a patient darling to your violent yandere!

        ♡

It had taken only one glance.

One glance at you for him to go absolutely feral — to drop you off at home with a clenched jaw and a rough, territorial kiss that scraped the skin of your cheek, him grumbling in your ear about how you shouldn't wait for him at dinner because he's going to be late.

And he kept his promise. At midnight, there was a sound of keys jingling at the front door. A weary sigh escaped your lips as the spoon dropped with a clink! on the table. Pushing your chair back, you adjusted the robe on your shoulders and headed for the hallway.

The pitch-black, familiar silhouette of your husband stood in the doorway. It was one of those nights. At first, his habits scared you. Now, they no longer do; it's practically become routine. You rubbed a fist against your drooping eyes, a yawn slipping past your mouth before you could stop it, "darling?"

No reponse. You tilted your head and approached. Blood dripped onto the floor like a faucet. Your feet stayed rooted in place knowing that the blood wasn't his — he wouldn't allow it to be. Yet the most concerning thing, but not surprising, was the tears sparkling in his wobbly eyes. He shrunk back under your gaze, sniffling as his red hands gripped the fabric of his wet shirt.

You sighed, outstretching your arms as you braced yourself for the long night and saying: "come here"

And that's how you ended up draped underneath him on the couch, his face resting in the grove of your neck as his tears dampened your skin and the blood staining the fabric of your robe.

Sobbing, he whimpered pathetically, "m'so sorry, baby" he clung tighter and hid his pathetic expression away — lips bitten red and eyes puffy. "didn't mean to hic! upset you, promise."

You should probably push him away like any other normal person would do in this situation. You should. But how could you, when he looked like a kicked puppy? Your heart practically swelled, refusing to listen to your screaming instincts.

Then, an attempt at retaining your morals you once prided yourself on: "darling, you can't just hurt anyone who looks at me. It's- it's just not right!"

His breath hitched, before his cries grew louder and louder, "but you don't understand! he was looking at you. What if he tries to take you away from me?" the paranoid thoughts swarming his head like bees could be heard from the way he anxiously pressed his hands against your sides, or the little kisses of salvation he littered against your skin. "I love you. I love you so much that it hurts me, that i can't take it if you left me."

"Shh, shh, didn't I tell you before that i'm never leaving you?" Your hands smushed and lifted his cheeks up to meet your gaze. "that i'm yours and yours only, hm?"

You were so soft that he felt like a small speck of dust in your presence, that he was biting the skin under his nails at the thought of anyone so much looking at you, images of bashing their head so very present and insistent before in his head.

"So you're not leaving me??" He whimpered, trying a weak smile and leaning into your hand.

Another sigh. You tried so, so hard to be mad at him, but you just can't. Not when he keeps on pulling you back in, not when he looked like this, not when you don't know what'd he do if you try to leave. "No, i'm not leaving you." A pause, one that made him falter. "But you promised me last time that you would stop doing this."

his pout deepened and leaned in closer to your jaw, opting to place gentle kisses in the spot that made you weak in knees. He cooed, "then I promise this time, that i won't do it again. Okay?" His big glassy eyes, shy but determined, stared into your soul.

You let your body sink back into the cushions, nodding as you closed your eyes and let him worship your body for the rest of the night for you to eventually, and inevitably, forgive him. But the both of you knew that he would break his promise again, and you would be waiting with open arms at the door.

And each and every time, you'd tell yourself that you'll finally break the cycle, but you'd never find the heart to.

"Okay"

[tender-rosiey]

sake and sass — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: was imagining drunk sukuna so now he is here and we have made him drink enough for three elephants so yes he is drunk drunk and you kinda take advantage of that to boss him around cuz why not

sukuna rarely drinks. not because he dislikes it, but because it takes an absurd amount of alcohol to even faze him. tonight, though? tonight, he’s hit that threshold.

the room reeks of sake, and sukuna’s massive frame is sprawled across the cushions like a spoiled tyrant—robe disheveled, crimson eyes slightly hazy.

the usually indomitable king of curses looks dangerously close to tipping over.

“you’re drunk,” you state bluntly, arms crossed as you observe the man you call your husband.

he scoffs, waving a sake bottle with an air of arrogance that doesn’t quite land. “nonsense. I don’t get drunk.”

“you don’t?” you reply, deadpan. “so why are you swaying like a tree in a storm?”

he sits up straighter—or tries to, at least.

one of his four hands gestures vaguely in your direction, the movement wobbly but pointed. “watch your tongue, woman. you’ve grown far too bold for your own good.”

you sigh, stepping closer despite his poorly disguised glare. “sukuna, you’re making a fool of yourself. just lie down before you hurt yourself.”

“hurt myself?”

he lets out a bark of laughter, though it’s slurred at the edges. “the great sukuna doesn’t—” he pauses, narrowing his eyes in a glare. “wait, did you just call me a fool?”

“I did,” you reply matter-of-factly, reaching for the bottle in his hand. “and you’re proving me right by the second.”

he jerks the bottle away, a scowl pulling at his lips. “touch it, and I’ll crush your fingers.”

“like you could even aim right now,” you retort, snatching the bottle before he can react.

his eyes narrow dangerously, but instead of retaliating, he slumps back against the wall, arms crossing over his broad chest. “you’re insufferable,” he mutters.

“and you’re impossible,” you counter, setting the bottle far out of his reach.

his gaze follows you as you move, sharp despite the alcohol dulling his senses.

“you think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he growls. “always strutting around. that smug little grin of yours—I’d rip it off if it didn’t…” he trails off.

“if it didn’t what?” you prompt, leaning closer with an amused grin.

his brows knit together, and he glares at you like it’s your fault the words are spilling out.

“none of your damn business,” he snaps, voice low and heated. “always grinning, always back-talking. you’re insufferable. insolent. infuriating.”

“and yet here you are, married to me,” you quip, unable to resist teasing him.

“because no one else could survive you,” he bites back.

you blink, momentarily caught off guard. “is that your way of saying you like me?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” he grumbles, his ears turning an unmistakable shade of pink which you honestly can’t tell if it’s embarrassment or just the alcohol.

you laugh softly, crouching beside him with a damp cloth. “you’re a real romantic, sukuna.”

“shut up,” he snaps, but he doesn’t pull away when you press the cloth to his face, wiping away the traces of spilled sake.

you’re careful not to press too hard as you wipe his face, trying to clean up the mess he’s made of himself without provoking his drunken temper.

but it seems sukuna has no plans of cooperating tonight.

as soon as you pull the cloth away, one of his hands shoots out to grab your wrist. his crimson eyes, though hazy, are filled with devilishness.

“enough with the fussing,” he growls, tugging you closer. “you’ve done your part. now, take that robe off.”

you blink at him, utterly unimpressed. “oh, absolutely not.”

“you dare to deny me?” he snaps, his voice dipping into something far too commanding for a man who can barely sit upright.

“I dare,” you reply, pulling your wrist free. “now sit still, or I’ll tie you down.”

he glares at you, two of his hands fumbling to tug at the collar of your robe. “you wretched, stubborn woman,” he snarls, his movements clumsy.

“always thinking you’re above the rest—thinking you can deny me. I could level cities, but you think you can boss me around?”

“I don’t think; I know,” you reply flatly, dodging his clumsy attempts to grab at your robe. “now, go to bed.”

“bed?” he scoffs, attempting to rise to his full height, only to stumble back onto the cushions.

“I don’t need a bed. I need my wife, right here, shutting that sharp little mouth for once.”

“you need water and sleep,” you deadpan, retrieving a fresh cup of water from the tray nearby. you thrust it into his hand, ignoring the glare he shoots your way. “drink.”

he sniffs the cup like a suspicious child, frowning. “this isn’t sake.”

“brilliant observation,” you reply dryly. “drink it anyway.”

his crimson gaze narrows on you, clearly debating whether defiance is worth the effort.

with a low growl, he downs the water in one gulp before tossing the cup aside dramatically. “there. satisfied?” he mutters.

“not even remotely,” you reply, grabbing his arm and pulling. “up. you’re going to bed.”

to your surprise, he lets you tug him halfway to his feet before deciding he’s had enough of listening.

one of his lower arms snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against him. his breath is warm against your neck, and his grin is downright wicked.

“you’re always like this,” he mutters, his lips brushing dangerously close to your ear. “impossible. insolent. arrogant. bossing everyone around.”

“someone has to, considering how you’re acting right now,” you reply, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“and smug,” he growls, his voice dipping into something darker.

“always grinning at me like you’ve bested me somehow. do you think you’re clever, woman? that you’re better than me?”

“right now? yes,” you reply, yanking the hem of his robe to cover more of his chest.

he catches your wrist again, his grip firm but not painful.

“you’re not better than me,” he hisses, though his voice is softer now, almost petulant. “you’re just...impossible. and clever. and—damn it—too damned beautiful for your own good.”

you freeze for a moment, caught off-guard by the unexpected admission.

“don’t look at me like that,” he snaps, his glare returning in full force. “your face is annoying enough without adding that stupid look to it. it’s maddening.”

“noted,” you say with a small smile, gently prying his hand off your wrist. “now lie down before you embarrass yourself further.”

he doesn’t move, his gaze locking onto yours.

“you’re unbearable,” he declares, voice rising in irritation. “always acting like you’re untouchable. damned arrogance and a damned grin.”

“mmhm,” you reply nonchalantly, guiding him to lie down. “and yet you keep me around.”

“because I have no choice,” he retorts right away, though there’s no heat behind the words.

“you’re mine. mine to deal with. mine to hate. mine to…” he grits his teeth, his gaze averting. “mine to keep, damn it.”

you blink.

“don’t get the wrong idea,” he adds quickly, his voice sharper now.

“I’m not saying I enjoy your insufferable company. but I’d rip apart anyone who thought they could take you from me.”

“sweet dreams to you, too,” you reply, tucking the covers around him as he finally starts to drift off.

“insolent woman,” he mutters one last time before his breathing evens out, the alcohol finally pulling him under.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will make you drink pure ginger

check out my buy me a coffee!

[snail-day]

Geto Suguru x Kitty Curse! Reader

Tw: NSFW, cream pies, overstimulation, mating press

Suguru is really trying to find the downsides of letting a little kitty curse like you hang around. Truly, he is. He’s supposed to be exorcising you, not letting you curl up in his lap like some pampered house pet, but you’re just so cute about it. All warm and purring, tail twitching lazily as you burrow against him with a soft little sigh.

What’s he supposed to do? Push you off? Please. He’s only human.

Moving to shift slightly on the couch, broad frame sinking deeper into the cushions as you rest your cheek against the firm plane of his stomach. His loose black shirt rides up just enough for your nose to press to bare skin - warm, smooth, with the faintest dusting of dark hair trailing below his navel. His long, thick fingers thread absently through your hair. Long hair hanging spilling over his shoulders as he looks down at you.

“I mean, technically this counts as curse containment,” he mutters under his breath, brushing a lock of your hair back behind your ear with ridiculous tenderness. “Very effective. Keeps you nice and calm. Look at that, textbook behavior.”

He dozes off more and more lately, his head tipped back and mouth parted slightly, violet eyes fluttering shut as you purr yourself to sleep on his chest. It’s fine. Totally professional.

And okay - maybe mating pressing a curse is crossing a line, but can you blame him? You look so sweet when you’re all folded under him, your soft thighs trembling as he presses your knees to your chest. Your claws dig into his shoulders, but you still roll your hips up like you're begging for more. The long black strands of his hair hang loose and damp with sweat, sticking to his flushed skin as he pants over you, chest heaving from exertion and need.

“Just one more, kitten,” he breathes, voice rough with affection. There’s a wild little grin playing on his lips, sharp canines peeking through as he hovers over you. “One more, and then you can hiss and bite me all you want, yeah?”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, then trailing lower to your throat with little nips and teasing licks. “My spoiled little stray,” he croons.

His big, calloused palm slides down to your plush belly, slick, squishy, and so full of him. He presses lightly, feeling the warmth spread beneath his hand. Watching a bit of his cream ooze on out.

“…You’re fine. Probably. It’s not like you can get pregnant, right?” His soft voice falters just a little.

“…Right?”

His grin wobbles. He swallows. A flush on his cheeks as he looks down at you licking the inside of his wrist.

“…God, I’m in trouble.”

What's so bad about a few more rounds?

[spurbleu]

police man john price is just so !!!!

god im eating him up, hes just so grumbly and daddy and forehead kisses and 🥰🥰

please, if you want to, more of that will be happily and greatly appreciated

based on this. pardon my turn of phrase, i am a a little bit kinda sorta inebriated.

you’re shy, john can tell that much.

nail dig themselves an early grave in the sandy cushions of the passenger seat. quieter than a mouse, aside from the occasional sniffle. eyes trained forward, like somewhere in the pitch glass rain, you’ll find answers.

likes them like that, he’s found.

fawn legged, skittish and helpless, clay before it’s fed to a fire that solidifies it (fits well in his palms. collects the bullets instead of screaming at them).

“how am i gonna get my car back.”

so she does speak.

“ill drive you to it in the morning.”

your face doesn’t move, but he notices the way your shoulders tilt forward. anxious, skeptical. smart, not enough that you didn’t get in his car, though.

“i don’t want to be any-“

“trouble? you hit my car sweet’eart, we’ve crossed that line,” he glances at you from his periphery, “although, seems like you, too, have had enough of it tonight.”

your lips wobbles.

you let quiet thread between the two of you. when there’s an effective, thick wall of yarn, you whisper through it.

“how can i pay you back?”

john suppresses a grin.

you will never find him at a local, licking the barstool of a pretty bird. or downloading one of those shallow, chivalry-death dating apps. or hiring a stranger during a dry spell.

he’s too proud for any of that. old fashioned. never chases, only prays.

to that thing that he stopped believing in a decade ago. asking if they’ve got any goodwill, they’ll make it easy. he’s been put through the ringer in the uglier world, make the softer one fall into his lap.

and he’ll be damned, here you are.

he hums like he hasn’t made up his mind. “join for me coffee before we get your car.”

you finally look at him. seamless shock, and a honest, cute fluster. john squeezes the wheel.

“but I…you don’t…I can’t…”

he shrugs, “nothing committal darlin. coffee and conversation. ill pay.”

he’s disappointed when you look away. “why?”

he doesn’t hide his smile this time. “always liked a damsel.”

[marsdql]

Can you do jake babying reader version pleasee

I’m so embarrassed of this one. hi. If someone tells me “how old is the reader tf” ure getting blocked cuz if someone can eat booty then I can let my myself get babied with my bf ok thank u byebye

Jake x reader — what you crying for?

You don’t even know how it happened.

One second you were straightening up the coffee table, trying to make the apartment look just a little nicer before Jake got back from practice — and the next, his notebook was just… gone.

The little black one. The one with worn edges and tiny doodles on the cover. The one he always carried but never let anyone read.

You didn’t mean to move it. Just nudged it to dust under it. And thenit was gone.

You checked the couch cushions.

The bookshelf.

The kitchen.

The bathroom, even though you knew you hadn’t gone in there with it.

And by the time Jake opens the door, you’re curled up on the floor in the corner of the living room like a kicked puppy, knees hugged to your chest, hands wringing the hem of your hoodie.

“Baby?” his voice is light, casual, until he sees your face.

You look up and your bottom lip is already trembling. Your throat feels tight. Your vision’s blurry.

“I—I lost your notebook…”

Jake freezes, just inside the door. “My… the lyrics one?”

You nod fast, tears already spilling.

“I didn’t mean to—I was just—cleaning—and now I can’t find it and I didn’t open it, I promise I didn’t, and I looked everywhere, and I’m so stupid—”

Your voice breaks hard and you start sobbing — real, wet, gasping cries that shake your whole body. You bury your face in your hands, humiliated, terrified, overwhelmed.

And Jake… he just stares for a second.

And then he lets out a long breath and walks over, squatting down right in front of you.

His voice goes soft. But it’s still stern. Still has that tone that makes your stomach twist like you’re being scolded — not because he’s angry, but because he’s disappointed you thought he would be.

“Baby.”

You flinch a little.

“Hey,” he says again, quieter, tilting his head. “Look at me.”

You peek up at him, lip wobbling harder now that he’s so close.

Jake cups your face in both hands, thumbs brushing your tear-slick cheeks. His voice lowers and goes real gentle. Soft, but firm.

“Why,” he says slowly, “are you cryin’ like I hit you?”

You hiccup, shoulders trembling. “I—I just—”

“No, no,” he cuts in gently, “you listen to me. Did I yell at you?”

You shake your head.

“Did I even look mad at you?”

You sniffle. “No…”

“Then what the heck are you cryin’ like that for, huh?” His tone goes even softer, but tighter too — like he’s trying not to scold too much. “What, baby, you think I’m scary?”

Your eyes fill again and you nod the tiniest bit before crumbling into his chest.

Jake exhales slowly, wrapping his arms around you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “You poor little thing.”

You sob harder, clinging to him like a child, so overwhelmed it hurts.

He rocks you gently, stroking your hair, whispering into it like a lullaby.

“Lost a lil notebook and now you’re actin’ like you’re gonna be punished,” he says softly. “What do you think I am, huh? Your boyfriend or your executioner?”

You sniffle into his hoodie. “I didn’t mean to break anything…”

“You didn’t break anything,” he replies calmly. “You didn’t do anything. ‘Cept cry all over the place like a kicked puppy.”

Your face burns and you try to apologize again, but Jake tightens his arms around you.

“No ‘sorry,’” he murmurs. “Not when I didn’t ask for one.”

You go quiet.

He pulls back just enough to look at your face, still wet with tears. He frowns — but it’s more sad than angry.

“Baby,” he says again, voice all slow and syrupy, “do you cry like this every time you think someone’s gonna be mad?”

You nod slowly, lip still trembling.

Jake sighs through his nose.

“Oh, angel… that’s not okay,” he says, tucking your head under his chin. “I’m gonna have to love you extra til you unlearn that, huh?”

You nod again, this time more like a child being comforted.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know. We’ll fix it.”

Then, quieter: “You’re not too much. You’re just too scared.”

You cry again but it’s softer this time. Like relief.

He holds you through it all, gently rocking, and whispering over and over:

“You’re okay. I got you. I’m right here.”

[daisynik7]

“Just one more. For me?” Nanami’s breath is hot on your ear, tugging your lobe between his lips. He’s working overtime to pleasure you, pressing the fluttering vibrator deep into your clit, slipping it up and down your leaking cunt after every climax, only to smear your cum back onto your swollen bud. He’s still fully clothed while you’re sat completely naked on his lap on the couch, legs spread wide for him, your face buried in his shoulder, moans muffled against the fabric of his t-shirt that’s damp with your drool. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, holding onto him for dear life while his free hand massages gentle circles on your back, as if he isn’t just wrecking you apart right now. 

“Too much,” you stutter, giving him yet another orgasm. It’s your third of the night. He asked for one more after the first, then again after the second. And, of course, he asks again, as he turns off the toy, setting you beside him as he shrugs his pants off his legs. “Another. Please?” he coos, giving you a naughty grin.

You nod, lying flat on the couch, spreading yourself wide for him once more. Your eyes are hazy watching him stroke his cock vigorously in his fist, licking his lips while he positions his head between your legs. When his tongue laps at your arousal, you let out whine, sitting up to stare at him. “Kento!” You were expecting him to fuck you, not eat you out. Not that you’re complaining. 

He reaches his hand up to your chest, pushing you back against the couch, fondling your breasts. “Just one more, like this.” His lips latch onto your sensitive clit, slurping and sucking on you like he hasn’t already made you come three times, unrelenting and vicious. You whimper from the sensation, knees wobbly, toes curled into the cushions, vision blurry as you gaze up at the ceiling, reaching your fourth high. He chuckles into your skin, giving you a wet smooch on your bud before nuzzling into the plush of your inner thigh, humming. “That was a good one, wasn’t it?”

You relax, pussy fluttering around nothing, still feeling the euphoria coursing through your body. Before you can properly process what’s happening, too fucked out to think straight, he drapes your legs over his shoulders, fingers wrapped around his veiny shaft, tapping his cockhead on your puffy clit. He flashes you that winning smile you can never deny, eyes hungry for more. “Last one, I promise.”

[thekinslayed]

Thou Shalt Not Covet

summary | Aemond is displeased to find his wife alone with his drunken brother.

pairing | aemond targaryen x wife!reader, unrequited aegon ii targaryen x reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! oral sex (f), p in v sex, voyeurism, masturbation (m), angst, possessive aemond, aegon is kinda pathetic, Everyone Needs To Chill

wordcount | 5.8k

note | i owe aeg a written apology for this one, im sorry pooks </3 the idea for this came in a peach bellini-induced dream

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated! <3

(dividers by @targaryen-dynasty)

It was nearing the hour of the bat, you had been sitting on your vanity chair, brushing your long locks when you heard the door to yours and Aemond’s marital chambers open. You perked up at the sound, turning with a smile on your face to greet your lord husband. He had been called away to the Tower of the Hand as soon as supper had ended, dealing with urgent matters of the realm while the king was nowhere to be seen. You jumped when the man standing in your room was not Aemond, but your good brother-in-law, Aegon. His cheeks were flushed, his stance wobbly, no doubt from the amount of wine he had consumed tonight. 

“Aegon!” you exclaimed. You quickly reached for your robe, covering your nightgown-clad figure to save yourself some modesty. “What in the Seven Hells are you doing here?”

The inebriated king jumped at the sight of you and the sound of his name. “Gods be good,” he said while steadying himself. He didn’t feel great, and the sight of you in your nightgown did nothing to ease his disorientation. He leaned a hand against the doorframe, rubbing a hand across his warm face, greeting you, “Sister.”

“Is something wrong, my king?” you asked, concerned with the faraway look in his eyes. You kept your distance still, wary of his grace’s well-known habits when deep in his cups. “If you are looking for Aemond, I am afraid he is still caught up in that meeting with your grandsire.”

“I just needed to get out, staying in these walls has given my mind no reprieve,” Aegon said with what you felt was an honest answer. He let out a heavy sigh, the corner of his lips dipping into a small frown.  “I didn’t mean to startle you. I wanted to ask Aemond about his opinion on something important.”

Aegon could scarcely remember the steps he had taken that lead him to your chambers, the small details of what he needed to say held in the slippery grip of his drunken stupor. The sting from his mother's hand on his cheek and the stabbing tone of her voice led him away from his seat in the council table, where he was needed, and into the tunnels that lead to the familiar path of his refuge. With a cup of ale in his hand and the boisterous ruckus of the alehouse, the king had forged himself a plan.

A ship to depart from the Bay by dawn. Essos. A crown for Aemond.

You were aware of Aegon being at the receiving end of his mother’s ire once more, no doubt escaping to his cups after their fight that had echoed through the halls of the Keep. You approached his leaning figure, coming to stand by the settee, patting down the cushions to invite him in. 

“Why don’t you sit? Aemond might be back in a few, and you look like the slightest poke would send your face to the mud, brother,” you offered. Though your brother-in-law was far from being as proper and honorable as your lord husband, you worried for him. Aegon wasn’t perfect, yet it would be hard to deny that he has struggled to find his place in the family. You have seen the gloom that always clouded his purple orbs, one he had tried to hide when he had sat the Iron Throne and the Conqueror’s crown was placed upon his head.

Aegon did as he was told, sinking into the seat with a heavy thud and a groan. Silence encompassed the room for a moment, the crackling of the hearth filling in the gaps between you and the king. He could feel himself sobering up fast, the fact that he was sitting with his brother’s wife, his beautiful wife, while Aemond was away had him flustered, his senses fighting through the cloudy haze of the liquor in his system.

“Your husband,” he managed, “is he really as praiseworthy as mother makes him out to be?” Aegon queried, his tone casual and light. You approached the seat across from him, pulling your robe tighter around your figure as you sat down.

“What do you think? He’s your brother. You have known what he is like much longer than I,” you responded, smiling at him softly. Your head tilted ever so slightly when you studied the elder Targaryen before you, how his plump cheeks were flushed and the skin under his eyes held perpetual lines of exhaustion. Aegon let out a low hum, twisting his lips while he stared into the fire. 

“Aemond has always been a good man. A bit of a brute, but a good man,” Aegon said, nodding, but then paused to consider his words. “I suppose I want to know…is he kind to you?”

“The most kind,” you smiled bashfully. The thoughts of your lord husband always brought about a warmth that painted your cheeks, especially the ones when his icy cold demeanor always melted around you, an occurrence he said was only possible with your power. A dreamy sigh left your lips as you longed to have him by your side at that moment, still eagerly awaiting his return from his duties. You turned to meet Aegon’s gaze, “I know it is hard to believe, but he is so good to me, your brother. I never expected our marriage to turn out this way. So… wonderful.”

A smile, slight at first, appeared on Aegon’s lips at the sight of your blissful face, whispering a small ‘good’, before returning his gaze to the hearth. Another beat of silence passed you before you spoke up once more. 

“And you and Helaena? Is everything alright?” You asked, inquiring about the state of Aegon and his sister-wife, to which Aegon only gave a small shrug.

 “You know Helaena, I never know how she feels about anything,” he said with a rueful smile on his lips. You frowned at his words, feeling bad with how quickly his smile dropped once he finished speaking.

“Helaena, she…” you trailed off, trying to find the right words to approach the subject. “She is so special. She’s not like the rest of us. She is bestowed with gifts that I don’t think any of us truly understand, nor can she fully carry the weight of. She needs someone to carry that weight with her, Aegon. I know you try for her, but it all just requires time. Give her time to open up to you, brother. Don’t force it out of her,” you advised. The king’s eyes sparkled when they stared at you while you spoke, attentive and awake. The corner of his plump lips quirked up at your words, breathing out a huff.

​​“She does seem fragile, doesn’t she?” Aegon said. You watched as he fiddled with his thumbs, a twinge in your heart at the sight of him. It was no secret the king and queen had an unconventional relationship, with them being brother and sister, coupled with their utterly contrasting personalities. Even with children, Aegon and Helaena had never found their rhythm with each other, and the gaps in their marriage were only intensified whenever it was held in contrast to yours and Aemond’s marriage.

“How do you put up with his moods? Aemond, I mean,” Aegon suddenly asked with a small grin, eager to change the subject. “He’s not a pleasant man when he’s in a temper, to put it mildly.”

The surprise on your face was evident as the conversation shifted back to you, a small chuckle leaving your lips at his words. 

“Oh, believe me, I have tried many ways to deal with that fiery temper of his,” you laughed along with Aegon. “I am no dragon, I find no use in fighting fire with fire, though it has taken a bit of creativity to tame that temper of his.” 

A suggestive glint in your eyes twinkled as you spoke, giggling when Aegon let out a boisterous laugh in understanding. He was visibly surprised by his good sister’s candor, one he had not something he had expected out of you.

“And I bet you’ve been successful at it too, haven’t you?” he asked, cackling when you clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.

“Quite a bit, yes!” you agreed, a proud smile on your lips. Aegon shook his head at you, his shoulders bouncing with the laughter that bubbled from his chest.

The ease that flowed between both of you took Aegon by surprise. If only he could have more moments with you like this, perhaps he’d be a better man, a better king, even. No wonder Aemond had been so taken with you. His brooding brother had taken on a lightness to him since you had entered his life, one Aegon had first thought was quite bizarre to see in the one-eyed prince at first, but now he understood. You held the power to make any man change his ways with a single smile.

“Gods be good. That man is lucky to have you.”

Your mischievous smile turned into one of fondness at the king’s words, your longing for your lord husband growing all the more the longer he was missing from your side. 

“No luckier than I to have him as my husband,” you responded, earning a low hum from the king. Large round eyes, ones he bore from his mother, turned to look at you, glimmering against the warm glow from the fireplace. You fiddled with your fingers with uncertainty when you caught the change in his gaze, the warmth of his amethyst orbs turning to that of hidden longing. You knew this wasn’t because of love for you, it couldn’t be. You assumed the king merely craved the stability and trust that yours and Aemond’s marriage had, but you couldn’t deny the way he looked at you at times, a look almost too similar to that your husband held for you. 

It was best to probably dismiss your brother-in-law for the sake of being proper, but you just didn’t have it in you to leave him on his own for the night, not when the murky sorrow returned to his eyes, replacing the light your presence had stoked. You cleared your throat, the air in the room suddenly turning prickly. 

“I’m sorry that Aemond is taking so long. Why don’t you lay for a bit while you wait, brother? The daybed is quite comfortable,” you offered. Aegon instantly refused, not wanting to impose in your own chambers.

“No, no, I should go. I will be alright, princess,” he reassured, though the way your face held uncertainty made him falter. There was no doubt anyone who would come upon him in the halls would immediately know of his whereabouts, with his messy silver tresses, half-open doublet, and the smell of cheap mead that he exuded. Hells, when did he lose one of his rings?

You managed to convince him to settle by the daybed, promising to wake him upon Aemond’s return. It took little effort for him to fall asleep, the liquor in his system quickly submitting him to the depths of slumber. You fetched some furs to drape over his sleeping figure, soft snores resonating from the daybed. A sigh left your lips at the state of the elder Targaryen, worried about how he had been coping with the weight of the crown upon his shoulders.

 You were on your side of the bed, engrossed in your reading when your husband finally returned from his duties. You looked at Aemond in worry when he eyed his brother’s sleeping figure, his features immediately merging into one of anger and confusion after finding his wife and his brother all alone at night. 

“What the hell is he doing in our chamber?” He asked, his tone harsh. 

“Aemond..” you said softly, putting away your book before rising to approach him. Your arms came up to caress his biceps, soothing him. “He came looking for you, husband. Your brother is troubled, he waited for your return to talk to you about it,” you explained, hoping your husband would see reason and put away his anger, though his furrowed brows let you know that you shouldn’t get too hopeful. 

“I don’t care what he was looking for. King or not, he should know better than to intrude on my wife,” Aemond spat, his anger still not waning while his voice rose. He was about to say more when you squeezed his biceps, a frown on your features. His own immediately softened, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “You shouldn’t be around him when he’s like this.” 

“I know, I know. But I was worried for him. I couldn’t just turn him away, my love,” you explained. Your hands drifted down to take hold of his fisted palms, making him unclench to let you take his hands in yours. “I should have made you aware of his being here. He needed someone to talk to, husband. I told him to lie down while he waited for you, but I fear the wine has gotten the best of him,” you pressed kisses to your husband’s wrists, placing his calloused palms to cup your face. Your eyes met his good one as it studied you, your feet taking a small step closer to his warmth.

“Was there anything he told you?” Aemond asked. You both looked at his sleeping figure. Aegon's snores had stopped, but he still lay peacefully asleep on your daybed. 

“He asked about our wellbeing but that was about it.” You half-lied. You thought it best to keep your conversation with the elder Targaryen between yourselves, something only you understood. 

Aemond’s apprehension of having his brother around his wife was something he did not hide, well aware of his hidden desire and admiration for his lady. The thought of you and Aegon spending time alone in your marital chambers while he was away took all of him not to strangle his sleeping brother if it weren’t for your soft presence. He could laugh at the incredulity of the circumstances, his brother having clearly wasted no time to seize the opportunity in his absence. 

The one-eyed prince stepped away from your grasp, turning away to rid himself of his day clothes. You bit your lip anxiously as he continued to spare glares at his slumbering brother. You approached him once more, standing in front of him. Your hands caressed his chest while he pulled you in by your waist, craving your touch after hours of being away. You planted a small kiss on his cheek for comfort, and another one on his lips. 

“I think it best for you to talk to him, my love. You both understand each other the best, after all,” you said softly. Your husband let out another angry sigh despite your kisses. How sweet you were, nothing but goodness in the fibers of your being. In his heart of hearts, he wished it weren’t so, that this kindness was only reserved for him, your lord husband, that way he would be saved from the many who feel smitten by your charms, his own brother for one. 

“I have no wish to even look at him,” Aemond snapped, looking away from you. He shook his head, knowing what he wanted to say, but being unable to bring himself to do it. “I just don’t like it. He looks at you, covets you.”

“Aemond..” you started, but you sighed as your husband gave you a warning look. “I swear to you, husband. He merely came with the intent to talk to you tonight. He was proper with me,” you promised, cupping his face in trying to reassure him, but his sharp jaw had stayed clenched. Your face dropped, frowning when he still refused to look at you.

“Darling,” you beckoned. You dipped your head to meet his gaze, a silent plea of understanding in your countenance when you stared at each other. You watched Aemond study your face with a cold glint. Seeing your husband still aggravated by your current situation, you knew you had to do something to calm him, lest he did something irrational to the sleeping king in your midst.

Tentatively, you pressed your lips against his in a kiss. You felt him soften ever so slightly, deepening the kiss when his hand caressed your cheek, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone. When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead against your husband’s, his hot breath fanning over your face.

“What was that for?” Aemond asked, his tone still hardened.

“Missed you,” you mumbled against his lips, kissing him once more. It was quick to escalate, with Aemond taking the lead. His tongue prodded its way into your mouth, exploring your warm cavern while a whine emitted deep from your throat at your husband’s ministrations. You felt his hands wander down to your waist to settle on her arse with a firm squeeze. Breathless you pulled away, though your husband’s firm grip bid you to stay pressed against his chest. 

“I do not want this happening again,” he said quietly, a hint of anger still in his voice. His jealousy flared, a heat rising in his head that inhibited him to think clearly. It was irrational, and he hated that it was so, but he did not know how to let it go. “You are my wife,” Aemond practically growled.

You nodded at him obediently, whispering, “I am all yours, Aemond. Always,” before surging forward to kiss him again.

“I love you,” the prince said as the kiss broke. “I am yours, and you are mine.”

You had barely reciprocated the words before Aemond was kissing you again, this time more urgent and passionate as you grew more heated. His lips traveled to your neck, sucking and kissing while his hands gripped your behind. You had almost let your eyes roll back into your skull in pleasure when you barely remembered that Aegon still lay asleep in your chambers. 

“Darling… Your brother….” you trailed off, barely getting the words out while your husband pressed his growing stiffness into your center. “He is still sleeping there, my love.”

“Let him watch if he wants. It’s what he does anyway,” your husband said, his voice coming out with barely any volume to it with his face still pressed into your neck. He had enough for the moment, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on forever.

“Aemond,” you warned, an unsure glint in your eye. You weren’t sure if this was some sort of sick power play your husband was doing to assert his possession over his wife to his brother, but you were still apprehensive about the whole ordeal. And yet, the heat that pooled in your center coupled with the look the silver-haired man held before you was making your rationality jump out the window. 

The longer you made your husband wait, the more you saw his temper rise again. You quickly kissed him once more, letting your lord husband do whatever he wanted for the night.  You pushed the idea of being intimate while Aegon lay asleep and risked being watched when he woke into the back of your mind, focusing on her and Aemond alone. It would be a lie to say the idea of getting caught and watched didn’t excite you at all. The idea of your prince asserting his possession over you in front of another man made you feel heated, wanted, and highly desirable. After all, Aegon was fully asleep anyway. 

Time to get creative.

Aegon was in fact, not asleep. He had woken up the moment Aemond returned, but continued to lay with his eyes closed upon hearing his brother’s anger at his intrusion. He knew if he were to awaken there was a good chance of a big fight breaking out between them, perhaps of Aemond even killing him right then and there. 

And so, he continued to pretend to be asleep while he listened to Aemond’s rage and his wife’s attempts to soothe him. Even with just listening, the elder could tell how easily the lady’s soft demeanor warmed his brother’s cold one. His heart thumped wildly against his chest, forcing his eyes to remain shut.

Amidst hushed whispers, his ears perked up in curiosity when he heard a wet smacking, then another, and then more. Hushed whispers again, and then the sound of kissing continued once more. From where the daybed was situated in their chambers, He only needed to crane his neck slightly to the side and crack his eyes open just a hair to see you and Aemond in a passionate embrace. Despite the darkness brought about by the dying embers of the hearth, he could still see how his brother’s hand wandered, squeezing and caressing his wife. He saw how you kissed him with such passion, one he was unsure any lady had ever done with him. Jealousy burned within him, while heat pooled in his chest at the sight of the two lovers. He was a fool to continue to listen, to witness what was before him, but Aegon couldn’t find the strength to look away. What the king wouldn’t give for her to be doing that to him, to hold her in his arms. He was sickened with desire.

The younger prince led you to bed, where he bunched up your nightgown to your hips before descending his lips upon your core. Aemond had an inkling that his brother would awaken, a sick desire to show the king what was his overwhelmed him. Lost in the depths of the mindnumbing pleasure that devoured your wit, you were none the wiser with your husband’s little game. He was wary enough to cover your bareness with his body, though the sweet sounds emanating from your lips were hard to stifle. Still, your husband had no complaints. 

Your husband was like a man starved, devouring your sweet ambrosia like it was the water that gave him life. You bit back the mewls that threatened to escape your mouth, though your efforts were futile as they only grew in volume with your impending release.

“Aemond, the curtain,” you mumbled before a moan cut off your words. You reached out to the curtain hanging from your bedpost, urging your husband to cover you for the sake of decency. If he even heard your word, he paid them no mind while he continued to fuck you with his tongue. His nose nuzzled against your pearl, the sparks of pleasure shooting from your nub sending you into a dizzying haze. Your release washed over you like the tide, and you had barely been granted a moment of reprieve to see if Aegon had been disturbed before your husband had freed his cock, sparing no second and breaching your walls. 

You threw your head back into the feather mattress, a breathless whine escaping your lips as he rutted into you at an unforgiving pace. Your hands clung onto your husband’s shoulders while you willed yourself to stay mindful of the noise, yet you couldn’t help the soft whines of your husband’s name that left your lips, much to the one-eyed prince’s delight. 

Aegon’s cock strained painfully in his breeches at the sweet sounds you were making for his brother. His hand twitched to rub at his bulge, and he subtly covered his lap with a cushion to pleasure himself. From his view, he was only granted the sight of his brother’s back while your legs wrapped around his trim waist, but the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin made Aegon’s skin tingle and his cock jump against his palm. He rubbed himself in tandem with the rhythm of the bedframe’s creaking, praying that the darkness of the room made it so that neither of you would catch him in the act. 

Aemond surged forward to meet your lips in a kiss that was a mess of teeth, tongue, and spit. His pace remained relentless, determined to make you fall apart on his cock while his brother helplessly watched. One quick look behind him and he had seen Aegon, crowned king of the Seven Kingdoms, pathetically jerking himself off to the sight of him fucking his wife. Aemond may have once coveted the crown placed upon his brother’s head and the glory that came along with it, but for once he had something his brother wanted. Nothing else would ever come above the warmth of your embrace and the sweet nectar from between your thighs. As a second son he would be bestowed no lands, no legacy, and no other glory, but what more would a man need than a wife who sang the loveliest melody while he split her open with his cock?

Your nails dug into the hard planes of Aemond’s back as he drove you further into your second peak. It was all overwhelming, the caution of keeping quiet, the mind-numbing pleasure of your prince’s cock driving into your cunt, and his grunts of pleasure in your ear, coupled with the electrifying sparks of his thumb playing with your pearl. 

“Do you like this, dear wife? Making me fuck you while your king lay asleep in our chambers? Is this what you wanted, hm? Is this what you wanted me to do?” Aemond growled in your ear, punctuating each query with a harsh thrust. You could only whine and whimper in response, while the warmth in your belly only grew higher, and higher, until it spread all over like cold water, making you spill around Aemond’s cock while you moaned in ecstasy. 

Behind you, Aegon bit his lip harshly as he spilled into his breeches, the sounds of your release driving him towards his. He pressed his face into the cushion to hide his panting, his skin growing heated with the humid air of sex that filled the room. 

Aemond soon spurted his own seed into your core, the pulsing of your walls milking him dry while his thrusts slowed. He collapsed on top of you for a moment, breathing in the scent of your damp skin while he caught his breath. 

“I love you,” he said against your skin, this time without the anger behind his words.

You caressed your husband’s hair while he continued to lay on top of you, equally feeling as boneless with his weight engulfing you comfortingly like a blanket. 

“I love you,” you whispered in response. “There is nothing else I desire for in this world other than you, my love.”

Aegon felt an odd twinge in his chest at your words. For a moment, just a few seconds, he fantasized you had uttered those words to him, and you were his.

After regaining your senses, you lifted your head slightly to take a peek at Aegon. From the view where you lay, it looked to you that the king remained peacefully asleep despite you and your husband’s activities. Though the darkness in the room betrayed you, making it hard for you to actually see the tear that had streaked down his cheek.

“I guess that didn’t wake him up,” you mused. The prince merely hummed in response, his face still buried in the crook of your neck.

“No, he can sleep through anything. Must be nice,” Aemond said quietly. He bit back the smirk at your blissful unawareness, moving to lay on his back before pulling you to his chest.

“Will you promise me that you will talk to him? On the morrow?” you asked, looking up at him with hope. Your husband nodded, sealing his promise with a kiss on your forehead. He pulled the covers over the both of you, rubbing your back while you drifted off into slumber. Your husband held you tight through the night, pleasantly satisfied. 

You remained asleep when Aemond had gotten up just as the sun broke through the horizon, pulling away from you to prepare for his morning training. After getting dressed in his training clothes, Aemond approached his brother’s sleeping figure on the daybed, nudging him awake. He threw a spare training jacket to Aegon, which covered his confused face, dazed with exhaustion. 

“Get up,” Aemond said coldly, eyeing his brother with indifference. “You’re going to train with me.” 

The kind did not appreciate his brother's prodding. He would have preferred to sleep for another hour if Aemond would allow it, but he also knew his brother rarely allowed things that he, himself did not have a preference for, and so Aegon rose from the daybed with great annoyance, and a deep sense of contempt. He let out a groan when he stretched his aching limbs, the exhaustion from the previous night still coursing through his muscles. Aegon had been talking a little too loud for Aemond’s liking, who turned to his brother to quiet him. 

“Shut it. Do not disturb my wife,” he hissed, eyeing your sleeping figure when you slightly stirred. Aegon rolled his eyes at his brother’s order, though obediently changing his dirty doublet for his brother’s gambeson. 

“You’re one to talk about disturbing others in their sleep,” the king grumbled under his breath. Aemond merely let out a breathy chuckle at his brother’s words. 

This idiot. Subtlety was never his strong suit.

While Aegon finished up the last buckle of his garment, Aemond kneeled one knee on the bed to lean over your sleeping figure, planting a small kiss on your forehead. You let out a small dreamy hum in response, still deep into the throes of your slumber. Aemond pulled up the furs to cover you better, before turning to Aegon and leading him outside.

The morning air was crisp when the brothers descended the steps to the training yard. Few littered about, mostly servants running around in preparation for the day. The surprise in their gaze was undeniable at witnessing their king awake so early, the sight of him in the training yard with his brother clearly not a usual occurrence. 

The brothers sparred together, or rather, Aegon was pathetically dodging his brother’s attacks while Aemond swung at him with a skilled ease. It was clear there was a tension between the two, one they were both well aware of the reason why. With only a few hits in, Aegon had already begun to pant, the years of his negligence in his sword training catching up to him quickly.

“I hope the satisfaction you get from this helps to quench the fire in your cock, brother,” the king taunted, heaving.

“There’s only one person who can quench the fire in my cock, and it certainly isn’t you,” Aemond retorted, indifference coating his tone but a smirk decorated his lips.  “My wife tells me you had something to say to me. What was so important you chose to intrude on my wife in the middle of the night?”

Aegon held up a hand in defeat, dropping his sword carelessly into the dirt before bending over to lean his hands on his knees. He took deep breaths while he willed himself not to vomit, the wine in his stomach not settling well with the strenuous ordeal he found himself in so early in the morning.

Essos. His crown for freedom. All of those now seemed like a faraway dream, with the way his brother looked down on him with an unhidden contempt, the effort would be completely futile.

“I thought we could talk, as brothers. Yet standing here in front of you know, I see that is far likely to happen, Aemond,” Aegon said, resignation in his tone. His brother scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

​​“Talk,” Aemond said, his voice filled with sarcasm. He let out a small chuckle, grabbing a rag to wipe his sword. “We can talk,” he expressed, his tone carrying a feigned lightness that perturbed Aegon. “Just not about your little obsession with my wife, brother.”

“My obsession?” Aegon responded, incredulous. He looked at Aemond in utter disbelief, who continued to clean his sword calmly. “If anyone is obsessing about someone here, Aemond, it is not me. You are too quick to anger, too riddled with jealousy of me that you cannot stand for me to be in a room with her. I would almost think you were afraid of being bested by me,” the elder said, his lips curling into a sneer. His brother halted in the middle of his wiping, the hand holding the hilt of his sword gripping the handle tight. Aegon gulped at the sight, wary of the younger’s growing temper. Aemond turned to the king, narrowing his good eye at him.

“I do not fear you, Aegon. Do not pretend,” he said, an eerie calmness in his tone. Aegon took a careful step back as his brother stepped forward, crossing his arms behind his back. “I wouldn’t give a shit about you being around her if I didn’t know your damned thoughts about her. She is mine.”

Aegon’s clenched jaw mirrored Aemond’s. His brother’s words left him with no reasonable defense. His affection for his brother’s wife was now out in the open, and he feared the repercussions. 

“How do you know what I think of her? What makes you think I even want her?” Aegon responded, anger in his voice. 

“It is because I know you, Aegon. You are predictable, you grow wide-eyed at the first thing that you believe would grant you the smallest ounce of affection. It is pitiful, really, especially for a king,” Aemond sneered. Any snark rebuttal Aegon had died on his lips as he shrunk in the weight of his brother’s gaze. The younger prince’s stare was piercing, jabbing through Aegon’s skin, prodding at his bare bones. “If I see you making eyes at her again, I swear to it, there won’t be enough blood left in your body to even cry to the gods that they might spare you.”

Aegon could only stare at his brother, his response sending a chill down his spine. He had never feared the younger prince before, in all his physical prowess and ruthlessness, but as they stood in the quiet yard, he had begun to falter.

“All this for a woman, brother?” Aegon asked, voice low as he could only stare at his younger brother. Aemond huffed, standing tall over his king. 

“Yes,” Aemond said. “Over this woman.”

But I am your blood, Aegon wanted to say, but he could only stare.

“Don’t take it personally, brother. If any other man were standing in front of me, I would have said the same thing,” Aemond said, tilting his head mockingly. The one-eyed prince ignored the nagging in his consciousness, one that resembled his mother’s stern voice.

‘We must protect our own,’ she would always say, though as her sons now stood face to face, they couldn’t be more of a threat to each other. Perhaps he had gone too far, but he couldn’t let the fucker have more than he deserved. He already had the crown, the Conqueror’s name. He loved his brother, the gods know he did, but he would breathe fire onto the seven kingdoms if it meant it kept you by his side. 

Aegon could only sigh in defeat, kicking a small pebble by his feet as he sniffled.

“She is all yours, Aemond, do not fret. You have made that very clear. I shall take my leave, this conversation has certainly been the most… fruitful,” Aegon said, smiling sarcastically. The elder turned before Aemond could respond, walking back into the Keep.

Watching Aegon walk away, Aemond pondered on the weight of his words, what this would mean for you and for Aegon, realizing too late what he had failed to do. 

“Fuck,” he said beneath his breath. He closed his eye exasperatedly, stretching his neck backwards to face the sky. “My wife is going to kill me.”

[dcxdpdabbles]

How about one where Danny saves Tim after Damian cuts Tim’s line?

Danny is throwing out his trash when a hero falls into his arms. He had just finished settling the lid of the bin, stretched his two arms outwards, lacing his fingers together to pop them, and the very second he unlaced them, he heard the shout of alarm.

Glancing up, Danny watches in open astonishment as a body descends from heaven, and he barely has the time to bend his elbows into a catch as the body slams into his arms.

Thankfully, Danny was quick enough to cushion the landing with a big ectoplasm, letting it burst from his forearms and spreading into a makeshift glove that deflates as soon as he catches the body.

Owlishly, he blinks at the white lens of a mask that belongs to the man he caught. A vigilante, one of those bats, he thinks. Danny doesn't pay much attention to the news regarding them, so he has no idea who he's holding.

The other seems frozen in shock, so Danny looks at the sky, wondering where he came from. Standing at the edge is Robin, looking genuinely unsettled.

A rope swings in the wind, obviously been cut. The impaled knife shaped like an R is on the wall next to it. The same R that the kid is wearing on his uniform. His parents are genuine, but it doesn't take Danny long to figure out what happened.

The kid cut this guy's line, which could have easily killed him if not severely harmed him. In all his mature wisdom, Danny does the most natural thing to him.

He flips the bird, jolting the human in his arms into a more comfortable carry and retreating back into the manhole he had crawled out of. The kid seems startled, flipping down from the building, but it will be too late by the time he gets down.

Danny had actually placed a portal to his house in the Infinite Realms right at the diameter of the manhole. The second Danny recovers them with the metal plate, he swings back into the yard of his lovely garden and snaps his fingers to seal off the portal.

By the time the child gets the manhole cover, all he will see is the entranceway to Gotham's sewers. He may even be tempted to search for them, but Danny and his guest will be on an entirely different dimension.

The man in his arms slumps in his hold, looking utterly exhausted. "Where are we?"

"My house. Would you like to come in for some coffee?"

There is a moment where the stranger thinks it over before shrugging, "Why not."

Later, Danny realizes that the easy way Tim allowed himself to be brought inside was a facade. The little shit had just been gathering information on him before he flipped the table and attempted to beat Danny up with impressive martial arts techniques.

Then he stole his specter speeder, flying off into the Realms while Danny wheezed on the ground. Rude. He even took Danny's inbox of who knows what artifacts.

Danny was tasked with discovering their purpose and fixing them as his part-time job as a Ghostly Artifact repairman. Now, his client's stuff was stolen by a spandex-wearing weirdo from what he called the "Trash Dimension."

All because some other spandex-wearing ninja chose to cut his line.

"Crude, one of Clockwork's time amulets was in there," He mutters, wobbling to his feet and shifting into Phantom. He better catch the human before the idiot messed with a timeline. Last time, he took his trash out on a Wednesday and the usual Thursday. This is what happens when he breaks his routines.

[gojover]

[11:00 p.m.] ⋆ sukuna thinks it’s adorable how riled up you get when he shows you videos of his nephew playing football at his first ever preschool football tournament.

not that he’d ever say it out loud, of course. but he watches you from the couch, one arm thrown behind your back, the other holding his phone steady while you lean in, legs crossed beneath you and your face the picture of righteous indignation.

“oh, come on,” you say, stabbing a finger at the screen. “that kid shoved him! where’s the ref? what sort of lawless league is this?”

sukuna hums, pretending to be engrossed in the video, though he’s more interested in the way your nose scrunches when you’re upset on someone else’s behalf. “you think i should write a strongly-worded letter to the preschool committee?”

“you should. i mean—look at him!”

on the screen, four-year-old yuuji stumbles, wobbles back to his feet, and immediately runs in the opposite direction of the ball.

“he scored on his own team three times,” sukuna says. “are we sure we want to die on this hill?”

“he’s learning,” you argue, smacking his arm. “and the point isn’t winning, it’s sportsmanship. that other kid was downright mean.”

“mm,” he says lazily, tossing his phone aside. “i’ll let his mom know you’re filing a report.”

you roll your eyes and shift to face him fully, legs knocking against his as you settle into the cushions. “you joke, but if i ever see that kid again—”

“you’ll what?” sukuna reaches out to tug you closer by the ankle until you fall back against his chest with a disgruntled squeak. “trip him with your foot while pretending to tie your shoelaces?”

you open your mouth. close it. “...you’re not supposed to encourage me.”

“you make it too easy.” 

he tilts his head back, rubbing circles into your thigh. his eyes are half-lidded, watching you with that same idle affection he always wears when you don’t notice him noticing. except now, you do. you shake your head, smiling all the same.

“you’re the worst,” you say.

sukuna grins. “tell me again while defending my nephew’s honour.”

by football, i’m referring to soccer for all you american folks out there ✊