#I’M CHOKING I’M UNWELL

[bakudekublogblog]

they know what they’re doing and they’re trying to kill me personally

[sweetmapple]

Something something… Elias’ glee at being genuinely caught off guard by Jon trying to assert power over him🥴

[lagunaseca2013]

important notes happening in my reconciliation fic doc. am I cooked or cooking I can’t tell

[becauseplot]

Does anyone else see God when they listen to I Know The End by Phoebe Bridgers or is it just me?

[pennjammin]

geeked up.

you fucked around and snuck him an aphrodisiac, so now all you’ve got to do is survive until the effects wear off!

content: smut, established relationships, bondage, edging, overstim, degrading, oral sèx, public sèx, exhibitionism, drüg/alcohol use, afab!reader, gn!reader on nanami, spit kink, masochism

incl pairings: kento, toji, satoru, suguru

word count. 8.3k

soundtrack 🌧️💿: sativa ft. swae lee

COCK THAT TEA / NANAMI.

A cup of hot tea. That's all Nanami had requested.

The lemon stimulant you’d mixed into the drink had made him wrap up his work early, clamoring downstairs, his eyes glassy with desire.

"Darling," he breathes out, staring at the floor, holding the cup in his shaky hand. "Are you busy?”

He’s so polite about it. At first.

“What ever is the matter, Ken?” you question, running your cleaning rag in slow circles over the dining room table, standing on your toes as you stretch across the surface. “I’m trying to clean.”

He nearly growls, eyes shutting and reopening with frustration. His fingers flutter at his side like butterfly wings and he takes a step towards you.

“I need to be inside of you,” he blurts, looking momentarily embarrassed before his face darkens, then he looks up at you with viper eyes.

“Right now?” you fake your surprise, walking around the table to stand in front of him. “But the dining room is so filthy…” You watch as his nostrils flare; he’s clearly taking in your scent.

“You know I would never force you,” he grits out, voice choked. “But also - mmh - p-pretty please?”

His arms come up, either side of you, and he moves to pin your body between himself and the table. He releases the teacup on the table and his fingertips grip onto the surface so harshly that his nails make tiny imperfections in the wood.

“My God, are you feeling alright?” you stall, pressing the back of your hand to his flushed forehead. “You look unwell.”

“I feel unwell, baby,” he says, tone serious and apologetic. “I feel like I might die if I can’t put my cock in you. That is unreasonable.”

Even as he says the words, it’s clear in his eyes that he doesn’t care how irrational it is. He wants to act on his urges so badly.

You rest your hand over the painful lump in his pants. “Is that so?”

“No, please don’t,” he breathes. “D-Don’t wanna lose my control…”

“You won’t,” you purr, slipping his zipper down. “You’re gonna be good and let me take care of you for once, ‘kay?”

His shoulders visibly slump a bit as the pressure from his hard cock is released by his unzipped pants. You take it a step further and dip your fingernails underneath the waistband of his Calvin’s, softly scratching over the blond happy trail.

“No, no,” Nanami’s head falls onto your shoulder, full body shudders coming out of him.

“I’m just trying to help, Ken,” you quip, rolling your eyes, moving to pull your hand out; but in the same beat his large hand clamps around your wrist and shoves it down deeper.

He jerks forward against you, a whine for help coming out of his mouth and landing breathily in your ear canal. You try not to shudder yourself, wanting to maintain the facade that you’re in control.

“Please, just take it out,” he begs.

How could you deny him? Your usually composed, control-taking husband is begging you for something. It breaks your heart as much as it nearly makes you cream your undies.

"Alright," you say calmly, clamping your fist around his shaft, squeezing harshly as you remove it from its barrier.

Nanami whispers gratefully in your ear - over and over - until it fades into moans, because of you sliding the pad of your thumb over his oh-so sensitive cockhead, spreading his precum all over the throbbing skin.

You have his heartbeat in your palm. You feel it racing faster with each stroke of your finger. The organ jerks in response and so does Nanami.

His hips begin to mindly grind back and forth, his torso rubbing yours, hardening your nipples and exposing your arousal.

You let his length slide in and out of your fist, and his hands grip onto your breasts like they can save him from ruin. His hair has fallen down around his head, sweat ruining his gelled style. He looks so desperate.

You'd only wanted to see if the aphrodisiac would remove some of his patience. He's always so kind, slow, gentle. You were writhing to see him lose control, have his way with you, rough you up. You’d hardly expected it to turn him this submissive and needy.

Fwip! Fwip! The sound of your top disappearing makes you gasp. You’d gotten too lost in thought and allowed him to get your shirt off, leaving you in just underwear.

Your thighs turn in on themselves, but they’re no match for his strength. It’s as if you'd let a feral panther out of its cage, his nails clawing at the waistband, threatening to shred it as his hips pick up speed.

On a whim, you release his shaft and put your palm to his tip, running it over the shiny pink skin. Nanami’s neck nearly snaps back. You rotate your palm over the tip and rip! his iron grip accidentally tears your underwear off.

He doesn’t notice, as he maintains his grip on the fabric with his eyes closed. He freezes in place as you violate his sensitive tip and the underside.

“Agh - shit, shit, nonono…” Nanami spits out.

Until finally he’s had enough.

In exactly three movements, he has your spine curved painfully against his torso, hand clasping a handful of your hair and pulling it against his chest, your shredded undies fallen somewhere on the floor. His groans in your ear are wet and raunchy, coming from the depths of his throat.

His cock pushes through your soaking ring of muscle, sliding through the ridges until it rams into your cervix. He has no regard for your pain level, punishing you even as tears brim your eyes. His hand cracks harshly on your asscheek, before scratching the sensitive skin and making you scream.

"My love, you feel so fucking good.” The lewd words leave his lips in an uncharacteristic way.

You want to roll your hips in time with his but he releases your hair and brings his hand around to cup your neck - faltering you as he thrusts deeper, the painfully solid cock violating your walls. If not for your pussy flooding the veiny organ, your entrance would be raw from the harsh stroking and lack of regard for your pleasure.

With a release of your throat, Nanami's hand moves to the back of your head and forces it down against the table, cheek pressed to the wood. You look at the abandoned drink at the other end. Now you’re watching as the cold liquid ripples through the teacup with each rhythmic thrust of your husband splitting you from hole to hole.

“F-Fuck, Ken, take it easy,” you whine, knowing it’s a full fib.

You want him deeper than he already is, cock bottomed out, heavy balls sticking to your clit each time he goes all the way in. Your internal organs feel like they’re being bent out of shape, pressure in your belly a bit painful, but mostly exhilarating.

“I-I can’t, baby,” Nanami grunts from above. “Your pussy has me so out of control.”

You decide to admit, in a sultry moment of regret what you’d done. Your pussy can’t take all the credit for making him this feral, can it? Nanami doesn’t respond much, but his cock begins to take it out on you.

His veins pop from his wrists as he pushes your head further into the wood, cheek squishing in on itself, muffling your sobs.

He moans in response to his new rhythm, grunting your name over and over, mixed with naughty minx, take me, feel good?, mhmm.

He hikes his hips at an upward angle and the new spot he's hitting is foul, causing you to scream so loud the noise reverberates off of the walls.

You put a leg up, knee to the edge of the table for stability. Your arms stretch across the surface and you feel drool trickle out of your mouth - your mind so fucked out that you can't even bring yourself to moan.

"Where's my spouse?" Nanami questions rhetorically, shoving a deep thrust in you while cracking his palm on your stinging asscheek. "Why can't I hear them?"

You swallow, trying to stop some of the drool, attempting to answer him but all that comes out is a guttural cry for mercy.

Nanami pretends not to hear it, and runs his nails along your pretty arched back.

His fingers yank your head in the direction of his old cup, “Be sure to look at what got you into this ordeal, dear. Stimulants in my tea, really?”

Your moans return when you feel the pool of fire deep within your belly, and Nanami feels you fluttering your walls around him in an attempt to fight off the orgasm. But he recognizes your moans all too well, so he drills his hips harder to push it out of you.

"Ken! No!" you cry, trying to hold it off, but just before you release he's spilling his own hot spurts into you.

You feel each rope hit the opening to your cervix and your cunt sends you into the harshest orgasm you've had your entire marriage; your one leg that remained on the floor giving out, leaving you to dangle on the edge of the table.

But Nanami's strokes show no sign of slowing down. You feel the veins in his cock drumming against your slick ridges, and his length remains solid.

“Mm, so much wetter now,” he notes, his cum nearly sticking his balls to to your clit every time he shoves his groin against your ass.

The noise that comes from your cum mixing together as lubricant is so nasty; it makes your toes curl as you lay on your stomach and continue to take the pain.

You’ll spend the rest of the evening begging him for mercy and not receiving it. When you think he’s finally done, he carryies you upstairs, telling you that he’s going to give you a massage to calm your strained legs.

But when you end up on your side as Nanami stuffs you full of kids for the sixth or seventh time, you realize the massage had been part of his plan, and he gives no hint that he’s near finished with you.

KNOTTY BOY / TOJI.

Toji had arrived home from work right on schedule. You'd been in the middle of preparing breakfast for dinner, the kitchen smelling of bacon grease and syrup.

He'd come in and given you a quick kiss, then disappeared to the back of the apartment to shower.

While he was gone, you'd finished cooking, and loaded his plate up with sausage, bacon, and eggs. Then, you plopped a tower of pancakes in the leftover space. This is when you ripped open a packet of honey from the gas station. You'd seen it on the counter one day whilst getting snacks and, you were curious to see if the rumors were true.

You’d felt a twinge of guilt as you drizzled the honey all over his pancakes and then hid your naughty work by covering it with maple syrup. It almost felt like drugging him, but you knew it wasn’t, and the worst that’ll happen is consensual rounds of sex. You’d disposed of the empty wrapper in the trash just in time.

Toji comes back from his shower with damp hair and oily skin, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts that cling low on his v-line. Your chest heats in response, but you maintain an innocent smile as you pad over to him with his dinner.

He sits down at the kitchen table, ready to dive into your delicious meal with a thankful grunt.

"Not hungry?" he questions, noticing that you remain standing behind him, rubbing some of the tension from his shoulders.

"I had a heavy lunch," you lie. "How was work?"

Toji pokes his fork into a sausage link before bringing it to his mouth, "Hot. Annoying. Lil' bitch Shiu was moaning about his sunburn all day."

You giggle, observing the darker shade on Toji's skin from where he has the privilege of tanning instead of frying in the sun. He's glowing like a cinnamon roll coated in sweet icing, and you want to drag your tongue over his moisturized torso.

"Well, least you're home now," you kiss his cheek. "I missed you. I hate when you have to work such long shifts."

He sighs. "Gotta do what I gotta do, puss. Have ta'make sure you have everything you want."

"That so?" you coo. "There’s something I want right now."

Toji reaches for the cup of orange juice you'd poured for him, thick eyebrow raised, “Spit it out.”

"Have you ever considered letting me tie you up? You know, 'stead of the other way around?" The words are out before you can stop them, and you're immediately writhing in regret when there's silence for several moments.

Toji takes a sip of the juice, and then turns to face you. "Needy brat, you thinkin' about tying me up while I'm tryin'a eat?"

You tap your fingers on his traps, trying to build a shovel to dig yourself out of this hole. "Actually, I've been thinking about it all day," you admit. "I was just worried you might be too tired for… you know."

His fork pokes into the pancake stack. You’re overcome with a sense of urgency. The minute he ingests the honey, the timer begins.

Toji chuckles and tilts his head awkwardly, rolling his neck. "You know I would never let you go to bed without a couple of nuts, ma." He takes a big bite of the cakes. "Didn't expect that, though.”

"O-Only if you want, of course," you throw out quickly, suddenly more nervous.

Toji swallows and turns to wrap an arm around you, pulling you flush against his body as he sticks his fork back into his food. "If you're gonna be in control, ya can't backtrack. Gotta stand on business.”

You swallow, "Well, unlike you, I need your compliance because I can't just throw you around like you weigh nothing."

Toji's body shakes against you as he takes another bite of pancake. You know the effects take a bit to kick in, but you aren't sure how much time you have left now.

"Would like to see you try to throw me around, though,” he says before adding, “do ya even know how to tie a knot, lil’ girl?”

"Of course," you say, offended. "I've watched you plenty of times."

"Usually while you're already on your second orgasm and cockdrunk, but..." he shrugs, "we'll see.”

You part from him, allowing him to finish his dinner as you collect the ropes from the closet. You untangle them as you wait. You're buzzing with excitement, blood pumping through your ears and your cunt, as you can already imagine his large torso being pierced with puffy red marks from the ropes digging into his baby-soft skin.

You're just about ready to drag him away from the kitchen by his ears when Toji finally comes into the room, sucking leftover syrup off of his thumb, eyeballing you.

"Mm, did you do something different to the pancakes, puss?" he questions. "Might be a new favorite of mine."

You smile and shrug. "Nope, don't think so." 

He buys it, or if he doesn't, he doesn't press the topic further. Instead his eyes travel over the wooden chair in the center of your bedroom.

“Welp, let the games begin,” he says, holding out his arms as he releases himself to be at your mercy.

Around ten minutes later, his sits with his arms pinned behind his back. His torso is attached to the back of the chair while his ankles are bound to the legs.

“Well done,” Toji grunts, attempting to tug on the ropes and being unsuccessful in loosening the knots. “My lil’ brat does pay attention.”

You lean over him, putting your hands on his shoulders. His cock has definitely hardened by now, sitting pretty in his lap as you’d requested he take his shorts off before being tied up.

You watch as his thighs flex and his cock jerks up, tip glistening under the warm lighting in your bedroom.

“Agh, fuck,” he spits. “Show me what you got, dollface.”

You continue to stand, fingers linked together in front of you, implying you have no intention of touching him. “What do you mean?” you ask innocently.

“Brat, don’t piss me off,” he grunts, a vein in his neck throbbing as he tilts his neck, fighting harder against his restraints now.

You giggle innocently and bring your knee up to the meeting of his thighs, ghosting it over his light brown tip. “You doing okay there?”

His eyes flutter closed, beads of sweat appearing on his brow line just under his hair. “Fuck. Stop doing that shit.”

“Or what?” you taunt, knowing he’s trapped.

“Oh, I’m going to kill you,” he threatens, but he can’t help but let out a delicious grunt when you glide your knee up his wanton shaft - back down again.

“What is it you always call me?” you tap your chin, pretending to think about it. “Needy whore.”

“Fuck you,” he grits, fists balled up behind him. You see his fingers attempting to reach the bottom of the knot but to no avail. He has no way out of this and he knows it. You’re watching the aphrodisiac kick into his system in real time.

His pupils expand when he looks up at you. His cheeks are slightly pink, and his bottom lip is underneath his teeth.

“Okay, okay,” you say, rolling your eyes. You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it slowly past your stomach, then over your chest. You shake your tits in his face, and he leans forward, snapping his teeth, like a shark threatening to take a chomp out of your flesh.

“Quit playing with me, Y/N,” he says sharply. “I’mma fuck you up. Bruise your little uterus so bad.”

“Would love to see you try,” you crack, pulling the fabric off your head and shaking your hair free. You know just how bad your hair turns him on, how much he enjoys nearly ripping it from your scalp as he delivers painful backshots.

He jerks against the chair, causing you to jump a little. You turn around and sit on his lap.

Toji’s entire body stiffens. “God, why is my shit so sensitive?” The sentence comes out breathy, almost whiny. Toji never allows himself to switch, but you feel you may have unlocked the ten percent of him that likes to be submissive.

“What did you do?” he goes on. “You did something to me - fuck.”

And the moment you'd come clean, you were already bouncing deliciously on his cock, watching as he squirmed against his restraints and cussed in your ear.

"You're fuckin' dead," he keeps saying, before giving up and breaking into a pathetic little, "fu-uck. Mmh, yeah, ride me baby. Gonna fill you up."

"No you're not," you say, noting how his cock begins to twitch and using your knees to lift yourself up and slide it out of you, leaving your cunt pulsing with ache.

"What the fuck - get back here," he growls. His arms pull against the ropes, and you fear at any moment they're going to pop.

"This is payback, Toji." You look at your nails and then sit yourself back down, facing him with your cunt touching his cock but not allowing him the pleasure of being inside of it. "All those times you overstimulate me, or edge me.”

You lean forward and kiss him on the nape of his neck. He howls, jerking his cock up against you for even the slightest bit of pleasure.

You're just about to drag your teeth across the prominent vein in his neck when a terrifying shred! sound enters the air.

You sit up straight and stare down at Toji in horror, but his face has twisted into a sinister, knowing smile.

"You fucked up, you know that?" he questions, and before you can scramble off of his lap, his arms are around your body, capturing you against his chest.

The next few seconds are a blur. Before you can blink or breathe, the tip of Toji’s cock feels like it’s inside your intestines, your back against your bedroom door as he fucks you against it.

“A honey packet like I’m some booty call?” Toji gripes, drilling his hips into you so mean, that all you can do is slap your hands on his back for mercy. “‘Bout to turn your pussy inside out, demon brat.”

“Toji! Please,” you cry, trying to spread your legs on either side of his hips to make it feel like he isn’t going so deep, but his cockhead is so slick and fat that it’s threatening to crack you open.

His body being covered in oil is not working to your advantage. Your hands are sliding off of him, until you finally give up and take your hands in his hair, and he increases his speed because of it.

“I oughta chain you to the bed with a vibrator on your clit,” he threatens. “Since you wanna play with me. Fuck. So fucking creamy, ma.” His head falls to stare at your cunt as his cock drills in and out of it, white substance layering on his groin and between your folds.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry,” you whine into his ear, “o-ooh. Shit.”

“‘Sorry baby,’” Toji mocks. “Yeah. ‘M sorry too. Sorry that you ain’t gonna be able to walk for a few days. Hold on tight, brat.”

SHOOT MY STEAM / GETO.

"Baby, can you pass me my bottle?"

The sentence you've been waiting to hear for about thirty minutes now.

You're at the gym with your boyfriend. You've been resting on the bench, watching him do his sets, waiting for him to ask for his water.

Suguru knows you always mix in his electrolyte packets for him, only this time, you'd found a convenient aphrodisiac powder to put inside instead. You wanted to see just how hot and sweaty he could really get with it flowing through his veins while he trained.

Only one issue with that: you’d accidentally forgotten about putting it in there, so you’d taken a fat swig a while back and now you’re paying for it as you sit and watch him.

"C'mon, monk, back on your feet," he says, taking a deep breath after chugging some of his water. He places it next to you and then reaches his hands out to help you stand. "'M gonna lose motivation if you're not up with me."

You swallow thickly and force a smile, before taking his hands and rising back up to follow him to the weights. Your body is tingling, cunt ripe with desire.

You decide to do some lunges to distract yourself while Suguru works on the lat pulldown, and you stare with heat in your chest as his back muscles flex under the cut-off sleeves of his shirt.

You think about your nails sliding over the sweaty skin to incite dangerous growls from your boyfriend, making him fall apart as he pumps you full of dick. Your head spins.

You attempt to shake the thoughts away and continue lunging until he finishes his pulldowns. When he stands, an erection is painfully obvious in his shorts.

He walks over to you, voice low. "Well, I guess this means I'm doing good," he comments, pointing to his new friend, and then gesturing to you. "It's also probably because your legs are looking good, angel. Damn."

You giggle and walk to drop off the weights. "Are you gonna be able to keep working out with... that?" You’re mostly asking for yourself, because if you’re forced to sit here and watch him workout with a boner, you may combust.

Suguru glances at himself in the mirror, rolling his shoulder blades. "It'll go away in a second. It's just all the blood pumping through me."

You blink. Your self control is dwindling but you try to redirect your focus. "'Kay, well I'll be over here starting some squats."

Suguru nods and pulls you in for a sweaty kiss, "Alright, love you."

God, you wish he hadn’t done that. Now everywhere his body touched you feels like a thousand needles. You want to grab him the minute he attempts to pull away, but you’re frozen in place, the fuzzy memory of his sweaty lips on yours making your panties damper.

And the next twenty minutes are history. You watch as Suguru loses more and more of his focus, his painful erection never coming close to dying. He slows down in his workouts, his eyes lingering on you much longer than before. You even watch him blink harshly, attempts running futile at pushing away his feelings. Then at last, he comes to collect you.

Now, you know it's a little unsanitary to be laid out over the sauna bench, Suguru leaning over you as steam and sweat drip from his locks.

You also don't care. The lust in his eyes, the furrow in his brow from where he doesn't understand why he couldn't wait to get home to do this is making your pussy throb around him.

"Fuck me," Suguru’s eyes roll back as he brings one of your slippery legs over his chiseled hip, sides of his cock gliding against your internal ridges. “Feels too fucking good, monk.”

All you can do is whine in response, as the subtle curve in Suguru’s dick causes it to poke the squishy roof of your tunnel. Your arms are trying to hold onto him, but with the steam, the two of you are just sweaty, wet bodies gliding against each other.

His abs rub over your belly and sensitive nipples, and he takes in the way each grind makes you gasp a little harder than before.

"F-fuck, Suguru," you whimper.

"Hah - ngh," he growls in your ear. "Don't say my name like that."

"S-Suguru," you repeat, feeling his nails attempt to dig into your skin before his fingers slide over your wet hips. "Wanna feel your cum."

He shakes his head, slinging water all over your face until you’re envisioning it being his warm semen instead. "N-No, feels too good, don't wanna cum yet."

You continue pushing him. "Cum for me, please?"

"No," Suguru spits, the end coming out breathy as he tries to compose himself.

"Please fill me up," you keep going, knowing that he won't be able to even if he tries.

"Baby," Suguru whines pathetically, but his strokes have noticeably gotten sloppier, needier. "Y-You have to stop."

You shake your head defiantly, before you crash your sweaty lips onto his. You moan against his mouth, taking his bottom lip between your teeth, piercing pressure onto it. His lips part as he continues slipping in and out of you.

Your bodies roll to the side on the sauna bench and continue going at it.

“Can’t get enough,” he mumbles against your mouth. “So wet for me, angel.”

It’s not long before you’re practically shoving him off of you, pussy sore and swollen. But he keeps holding you back onto his cock, making sure you nut on him as many times as he is able to drag it out of you.

Then, after concerns about your time spent in the sauna, you wrap it up - even though Suguru still hasn’t cum himself. But that doesn’t remain the case for long.

You find yourself pressed against the wet shower wall not even five minutes later, only a curtain hiding the two of you from the rest of the people in the bathroom. Suguru keeps his hand clamped over your mouth, whispering in your ear how good girls keep quiet, while making it impossible for you to obey.

And when he finally releases his thick cum all over your asscheek, watching as it instantly washes away under the hot water, he’s sticking it back in just a few seconds later.

Your brain is mushed with ecstasy from the powder, so you hardly notice that you’ve cum on his cock twice already, still ready for more.

GUMMY THROAT / GOJO.

“Want a hit?”

Shoko coughs and turns her wrist to hold her blunt out to you. You sit beside her on the couch and shake your head, holding up the bag in your hand.

“I’m good,” you grin. Inside the bag is edible gummies, which you’ve taken two of, and can already feel your toes stretching.

Shoko nods in understanding and passes it to someone else, leaning back against the couch with her eyelids laying low.

You check your pockets for your other bag, which has libido gummy bears, not edibles. This is the bag you’d handed to Gojo, watching as he’d devoured three obliviously.

“Satoru, you know you shouldn’t have eaten that many,” you’d scolded, trying to play along.

“Relax, my tolerance is higher than yours,” he’d quipped sassily.

But now that Shoko’s party has started to slow down, people disappearing in spurts, others sitting in corners or on the floor because they’re stuck, you and Gojo are having a staring contest - and you know what it means.

His eyes are wide and his fingers are restless. He’s sitting next to Suguru, who’s naively engaged in conversation with a pretty ginger. You’re pretending to ignore Gojo’s clear body language that says he wants to leave so that he can scramble your brains.

You giggle as your head falls on Shoko’s shoulder. Your body feels like it’s lifting off of the couch as the THC begins to flood through your bloodstream. All you can do is grip onto your skirt as if it’ll ground you.

Gojo stands from where he sits and struts over to you, his blue eyes appearing to glow with madness. “Y/N, get up,” he instructs, his voice commanding and unlike him.

“No,” you huff, nuzzling further into Shoko.

“Have it your way.” He reaches down and grabs your wrist, yanking you off of the cushions, and you can distantly hear Shoko laughing as Gojo puts his hand under your thighs and lifts you into his arms.

“Hey-!” you protest as you’re now being hauled princess style, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin with just how harshly he’s holding you.

“It’s way late,” he says. “And you’re high as hell. We need to go.”

“You’re being extra,” you scold, bopping your finger on his nose before letting yourself go limp against him. “Y’sure this is about it being late?”

“No, it isn’t,” he admits. “Watching you sit there and play with your skirt is making me lose my damn mind.”

“But I was hanging out with Shoko,” you pout, and realize he is not taking you towards any exits at all. He’s walking you to the back of the house, near the laundry room. “Gojo, what are you-?”

“I need your throat,” he blurts suddenly, glaring down at you with a compulsory twinkling in his eye. “Happy now? That’s what this is about. Need it so fucking bad.”

You giggle. The air feels crisp and your mind is so free. The room spins and you still feel like you’re floating.

“Okay, but be warned that I have cotton mouth,” you hold up a finger matter-of-factly. “May be a bit dry.”

He reaches the laundry room and pushes the curtain aside. If you were more sober, you’d realize how incredibly risky he’s being, but since you aren’t, you don’t care.

He puts you down in front of the washer, and wraps his fingers around your face, squishing your cheeks and forcing your mouth to open. In the same beat, he tuahs a mean glob of spit in your mouth.

“There,” he whispers. “That should help. Now I need you on your knees.”

He uses his grip on your face to push your head down until your knees collapse and you land on them. He releases you and you look up at him expectantly.

“All this for some head?” you taunt, placing your palms on his thighs. “Not that serious.”

“Yes it is,” he whines, “might die if I can’t shove my cock between those pretty lips.”

He leans down and swipes his thumb across your mouth, flicking your bottom lip and making your eyes flutter. You’re looking at him but not quite seeing him, as the gummies in your system have you spaced out. Your limbs feel like they’re stretching. You dig your nails into Gojo’s pants and he responds with an unearthly growl.

Your face is shadowed immediately, and upon focusing your eyes, you realize there's a fat, peachy cock looming over your face.

You gasp, watching as it comes down and taps you on the nose, fleshy and dripping in precum.

“Satoru-!” is all you can manage to say, as his tip grazes your cheek.

“Open up,” he instructs, and you part your lips slowly, expecting him to shove himself inside but instead he leans forward and sends another drop of saliva down your throat. “Just making sure it’s wet enough.”

“Y- mmh,” you're cut off, because Gojo has rammed the tip of his cock between your lips.

You part your teeth and wrap your tongue on the underside instinctually, eyes fluttering closed as you take in his salty taste.

"Speak up," he grunts, “you were being so bratty a minute ago.”

"Ngh - no," you gargle around his girth, saliva filling your mouth and making it hard to breath, pouring out of the sides of your cheeks and coating his shaft.

"Look at you, can't even take all of it," he taunts, pushing his hips deeper so that the tip begins to push down your throat, making you gag, your mouth becoming wetter.

Your eyes are hardly staying open. With your brain being so mellow, all that you can see or feel or taste is Gojo’s cock as it pumps in and out of your throat, bulging through your neck.

“So gummy,” Gojo purrs, putting his hands on the edge of the washing machine behind you. “Throat fits me so perfect, baby, y’know that?”

You can’t respond but the moaning attempt you make around his cock pulls a grunt from him. You know he’s being incredibly loud and obvious, but you can hardly scold him. The most you can do is crack your palms on his thighs, leaving tiny hand-shaped prints on the smooth skin.

“Hngh - what was that for?” he scolds before murmuring, “do it again.”

You smack his legs again and keep your eyes closed. You’re salivating all over his length and it drips down your chin, which is being abused by his heavy sac in repeated claps.

“Quiet,” you moan around his cock, as he’s letting out the most pathetic, desperate moans while you drive your mouth down to the base.

“N-No,” he grumbles, lifting his shirt up, before taking it between his teeth. You’re met face to face his with his perfect abdomen, glistening in droplets of sweat. “You suck me up so good, princess.”

Your eyes roll in pleasure at the name, eyes watering, mouth no longer dry. You don’t care if he wants to wake up the neighborhood; you just want to hear the delicious, sultry noises.

But right when you feel his dick twitch against the sides of your cheeks, you force your mouth off and swallow down the pool of saliva in the back of your throat. Your lips are wet and puffy as you part them and stare up at him.

“Gah - baby, why?” he quarrels, gripping tightly on your head.

You answer by leaning back forward and kissing his tip, sticking out your tongue and flicking it over the head before backing up again.

His knees nearly buckle, his grip on your head tightens.

“P-please don’t,” he whimpers. “S-suck it.”

“Mm-mm,” you mouth defiantly, wrapping your lips over the tip and gently pressing your teeth down; should he try to shove it deeper, it would only hurt him.

“Ngh - ‘m too horny for this, baby,” he growls. “Was so close.”

“Too bad,” you shrug, voice muffled because of the way you’re swirling your tongue over his slick pink tip.

His head falls forward, white locks dangling over his face as he tries to fight through his unbearably high libido. Your high has started to wear off but you can tell it’s going to be a long night for Satoru.

“Alright princess, I-I’ll remember this,” he coos from above, trying to push his hips towards your face but ultimately hissing and stopping when your teeth clamp down on the meat. “Goddamnit baby, what’s gotten into you? P-Please jus’ le’me cum.”

“Maybe,” you hum, taking him out of your mouth and using your spit to stroke his cock. “How bad you want it?”

“S-so bad,” he begs. “I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” you question, running your thumb over his tip. “Hmm. You’re in charge of cooking dinner for a week. Deal?”

“Ah - fuck it, just please,” he whines, writhing under your touch, barely able to get his words out.

“Cum,” you say silkily, sticking your tongue to catch the salty, white ropes that waste absolutely no time shooting from his shaft.

He twitches under your grip until his high has ridden out, but you use his cum as lubricant to keep stroking his poor length.

“Okay, okay,” he whines. “I-I’m good now, agh.”

“You’re not good till I say so,” you gruff, until his hand comes under your chin harshly, and brings you to a forced standing position.

“I said I’m good, but if you think I’m not getting you back for that - you’re a stupid little thing, aren’t you?” He swipes his thumb over your cum-covered lips, and then licks it clean, before cracking you on the cheek. “Now, on your toes baby. And be quiet.”

A/N:

I’ve been trying to finish this for forever bro wtf is wrong with me

I’m fighting demons (writer’s block)

And also… I think I wanna write some Gojo fluff after #jjk271 because my baby deserves love and light good fucking bye.

all the love always!

~pennjammin

[wormsz]

this is an attempt on my life

NIGHT SHIFT ; Iwaizumi x gn!reader

where it's you, your downstairs neighbor Iwaizumi & your cat

contains: gn!reader (no pronouns used, no gendered pet names, no physical descriptions), socmed au, neighbor au (bit of biker au too whoops), strangers to lovers, two very mildly suggestive slides (10 & 11) but otherwise pretty much pure fluff, iwaizumi the man that you are

a/n: downstairs neighbor iwaizumi wouldn't leave my mind so here we are. i really wanna write more smau oneshots they're so fun to make. also can you tell i'm ovulating bc i'd never look at jpgs of irl men otherwise lmao

gen tag list:

@kentocalls @ottocre @kittygirl11829 @bakingcuriosity @bakery-anon

@jodercriis @chaotic-neutral-ig @kitsune-kita @kameyyy @cookielovesbook-akie

@manhattanstrawberry @megapteraurelia (also @maybespiderman because i love eggwaizumi)

gen taglist is open! fill out this form to be added (or removed, no hard feelings) ♡

[iris-qt]

charmed, i'm sure

(feat. accidental truth serum, public chaos, and one very flustered reader)

It starts during double Potions.

Snape’s droning on about the stability of truth serums, and Mattheo Riddle (gorgeous, brooding, completely full of himself) is stirring his cauldron with that signature air of boredom and menace.

You’re seated next to him. Unfortunately.

Well, technically it was alphabetical. But you’re starting to think fate just has a sense of humor.

Snape snaps his fingers. “Taste test. Two drops each.”

It's obvious he thinks no one made the potion right.

You arch a brow. “Taste the potion? Isn’t that, like, illegal?”

Mattheo shrugs. “Probably. But I’m dying to know what secrets you’re hiding.”

You roll your eyes and raise your vial. “Bottoms up, Riddle.”

And then.

He drinks. You pretend to drink.

You blink. He blinks.

And then... chaos.

“Your eyes,” he says dreamily, “should be illegal in academic settings. I can’t focus. I think I failed last week’s quiz because of them.”

You look over at him in horror. “What?”

“Oh no,” he says cheerfully. “I think it’s working.”

Snape narrows his eyes. “Mr. Riddle, is there a problem?”

Mattheo turns to him, absolutely beaming. “No, Professor. Unless you count the fact that I’m catastrophically in love with the girl next to me and have been writing her name over and over in the margins of my Arithmancy textbook for three months.”

There is a beat of silence.

You drop your quill.

Snape sighs. “Hospital wing. Now.”

“But I feel fine,” Mattheo says. “Better than fine. Actually, I feel free. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to tell her that her laugh makes me feel like I’m choking on happiness?”

You slap a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry, Professor,” you mutter, dragging him out of the classroom as fast as your legs can carry you. “He’s clearly unwell. Tragic. Don’t wait up.”

In the hallway, Mattheo’s grinning like a madman.

“Wait,” he says, eyes wide. “Did I tell them about the dreams yet?”

You freeze. “WHAT dreams?”

He looks slightly panicked. “Oh no.”

You push open the hospital wing door and hiss, “Mattheo Riddle, if you say one more thing that makes me want to throw myself out a window—”

“I think you’re smarter than me,” he blurts. “It’s not fair. You’re so clever. I watch you solve things and it’s like... like watching lightning happen in real time. And you don’t even brag about it. It’s disgusting. I’m obsessed with you.”

You gape at him.

Madam Pomfrey appears with a raised brow.

“Veritaserum, I assume?”

You nod numbly. “Yes. And please. Make it stop before he proposes.”

Mattheo places a hand on his chest, gasping. “Do you want me to?! Because I will. I have the ring picked out.”

A/N: missed this trainwreck | mattheo masterlist |

[psformybss]

“Current Boyfriend”

drew starkey x actress!reader

You’re both curled up on the couch in your shared apartment, a rare day off where neither of you is on set, flying out, or doing press. The weather outside is gray and cozy, rain pattering gently against the windows. Inside, though, it’s chaotic—because you’ve decided to film a TikTok with Drew, and he doesn’t know he’s about to be ambushed.

The camera is subtly perched on the coffee table, angled just right to catch both of you—him in a hoodie and sweatpants, you in one of his old t-shirts with your legs tucked under his. He’s sipping from a mug of coffee, blissfully unaware that you’re seconds away from disrupting his peace.

You hit record and turn to him, speaking sweetly.

“Okay, I’m gonna ask my current boyfriend some questions about me to see if he gets them all right.”

You deliver the line casually, almost too casually.

Drew pauses mid-sip, lowering the mug slowly as his eyebrows draw together. “I’m sorry,” he says, blinking. “Your what?”

You keep a straight face. “My current boyfriend.”

He tilts his head, mouth falling slightly open in a way that’s both confused and deeply offended. “Current boyfriend???”

“Yeah,” you say, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Current. Boyfriend.”

He stares at you for a solid three seconds like he’s waiting for the punchline. When you don’t offer one, he lets out a disbelieving laugh, sitting up straighter and adjusting the throw blanket over your legs.

“Oh, word?” he says, eyes narrowing. “So I’m… just the latest edition? Like a damn iPhone?”

“Basically,” you reply like this isn’t escalating fast.

Drew dramatically clutches his chest. “That’s wild. That’s real wild. Here I am, thinking I’m your man, and I’m just out here holding the title temporarily.”

You smile sweetly. “That’s right. So let’s see how well my current boyfriend knows me. First question—what’s my go-to coffee order?”

He eyes you with mock suspicion but plays along. “Iced oat milk vanilla latte, light ice, no straw, because the turtles.”

“Correct,” you say, nodding.

“Damn right,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Current boyfriend. You’re lucky I’m caffeinated.”

“Next question,” you continue, completely ignoring his growing dramatic offense. “What’s my favorite movie?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Pride and Prejudice. 2005. Keira Knightley. You force me to watch it at least three times a year.”

“And you love every second,” you grin.

“That’s beside the point,” he shoots back. “You know what? Since I’m apparently just one boyfriend in the rotating cast—”

“Oh my god,” you groan, laughing as you reach over to slap his arm lightly.

“—I’m demoting you too,” he continues. “Effective immediately, you’re no longer my girlfriend. You’re my main side piece.”

You choke. “Your WHAT?”

Drew sips his coffee again, raising an eyebrow smugly. “My main. Side. Piece. I got a whole fictional roster now. You’re in the top three, but like, don’t get comfortable.”

“DREW,” you shriek, laughing so hard your body folds over. “Not the main side piece.”

He shrugs like he’s talking about the weather. “Hey, don’t be mad. I’m just following your energy, sweetheart. Current boyfriend, main side piece—it’s giving equal chaos.”

You wipe a tear from the corner of your eye, breathless from laughing. “You are so unwell.”

“Says the woman casually demoting me to temporary status on a public platform,” he fires back. “Nah, I’m gonna start wearing a name tag that says ‘Drew: boyfriend in progress.’”

You regain some composure and lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder. He automatically shifts to accommodate you, his arm looping around your waist like it’s muscle memory.

“Okay,” you mumble into his hoodie. “You’re not temporary. You’re like… forever trial version.”

He gasps again. “You did not just call me a free trial!”

You dissolve into another fit of laughter, body shaking against his as he pretends to be personally victimized.

“Thirty-day money-back guarantee,” he mutters under his breath.

You lift your head just enough to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m keeping you, you big baby.”

“That’s what they all say,” he deadpans.

“Drew.”

“Until the next current boyfriend comes along.”

You slap his chest lightly again, both of you still grinning like idiots.

The video ends with him tackling you sideways onto the couch, blanket tangling around your legs as you squeal.

[kxsagi]

HII

can you do bllk boys (specifically sae, shidou and reo) w a reader who is crying over a grade and acting like it's end of the world, but when they look at the grade it's like an 86% 🙏🙏

“𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧 𝟖𝟔% 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐬𝐞”

a/n: reader in this one is me i fear

ft. itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi

itoshi sae

sae hears your loud sniffles echoing through the apartment and assumes, logically, that someone died. 

“what happened?” he asks, rushing into the living room with just the slightest hint of concern behind his usual deadpan expression. 

you’re face-down on the couch, curled up in a blanket like the world is ending. “i failed,” you choke out dramatically. 

sae raises a brow. “failed what?” 

you thrust your phone at him with trembling hands. 

he looks. then he blinks. “… this is an 86.” 

“AN EIGHTY-SIX,” you sob like you're starring in a historical tragedy. “I DESERVED AN A!! I DESERVED A NINETY-FIVE AT LEAST–” 

he just stares at you for a solid five seconds. 

“you’re crying like you got a restraining order, not a B plus.” 

sits on the floor next to the couch and flicks your forehead gently. “don’t waste your tears. save them for something serious. like when i retire.” 

but he does bring you your favorite snack and lets you sulk dramatically on his chest while he scrolls through his phone. 

“eighty-six,” he mutters again under his breath, still slightly baffled. “you’re unwell.” 

shidou ryusei

he walks in to find you on the floor, half-buried under a pile of notebooks and sobbing like the apocalypse hit. 

“WOAH. did someone dump you?” 

“NO,” you wail. “I GOT MY TEST GRADE BACK.” 

“damn. that bad, huh?” 

he picks up your phone from where it fell and glances at the screen. “babe. this is an eighty-six.” 

“I KNOW,” you cry, rocking back and forth like a medieval peasant in despair. “I’M A FAILURE. A DISGRACE. I SHOULDN’T EVEN BE ENROLLED–” 

“you know i’ve never scored over a 70 in my life, right?” 

“and that’s why you’re you and i’m failing algebra!!” 

shidou full-on cackles. “yo, you’re dramatic as hell. i like it.” 

flops down next to you on the floor and pulls you into his lap. 

“we should burn your textbook in protest. let’s cause chaos. vandalize the math department. make it personal.” 

“ryu, i just want an A…” 

“and i want abs, but here we are.” 

“but you do have abs!” 

eventually just tickles you until you’re laughing instead of crying. 

he still thinks your breakdown over an 86 is the funniest thing he’s ever seen. 

mikage reo

reo is the supportive boyfriend so the moment he hears you sniffle, he’s by your side in 0.5 seconds with a credit card and a comforting hand on your back. 

“what’s wrong, baby? what do you need? food? a nap? therapy? a yacht?” 

“i got my grade back,” you sniffle, teary-eyed. 

“okay, okay, we’ll fix it– wait.” he checks your laptop. blinks. reads it again. “… an eighty-six?” 

“IT’S SO EMBARRASSING,” you wail. 

reo looks at you like you’ve personally offended his rich-person sensibilities. 

“you’re crying over a B?” 

“A B+,” you correct through sobs. “it’s not even a full A. i’m useless.” 

“babe. be serious. you’re dating me. clearly you’re full of good choices.” 

wraps you in a giant cashmere blanket and orders your favorite dessert immediately. 

“listen, we can hire a private tutor, a therapist, and a hitman if needed, okay?” 

still buys you a ‘#1 smartie’ trophy and makes you keep it on your desk as a joke. 

kisses your forehead. “next time you cry over an 86, i’m billing you for emotional damage.” 

nagi seishiro

stares blankly at your sobbing form from the doorway. “did someone die?” 

you shake your head, sniffling violently. 

“then why are you crying?” 

you show him your grade. he stares. “… isn’t this good?” 

“it’s not perfect,” you say, wiping your nose. 

nagi, who has never tried harder than 50% on anything in his life, just tilts his head. 

“looks like a passing grade to me.” 

flops onto the couch next to you and steals your blanket. 

“wake me up when you’re done overreacting.” 

later sends you a meme that says “you vs the guy she told you not to worry about” with your grade and his 92% next to it. 

isagi yoichi

he rushes in like a worried golden retriever. “are you okay? what happened?? did someone say something to you???” 

you show him the screen. he stares. stares harder. 

“baby… this is an 86. you’re literally doing better than my ENTIRE high school career.” 

you sniff. “but i studied so hard.” 

“and it paid off??” 

you pout. “not enough.” 

isagi pats your head gently like you’re a distressed puppy. “you’re the only person i know who’d cry over a grade like this.” 

then he starts hyping you up aggressively. “you’re so smart. you’re the genius of my life. you’re basically a scholar. you’re the protagonist of my academic redemption arc.” 

kisses your temple. “let’s frame it and write ‘we’re proud of you’ on the bottom.” 

you hit him with a pillow. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[neeeooon]

Good morning, Elle. I'm here with another Blue Lock request. May I request: Blue Lock boys finding out that Reader had already left on an overseas scholarship during their two week break from Blue Lock. Characters: Chigiri, Yukimiya, any other characters you want.

idk if you intended angst but !!! here it comes 🙂‍↕️

when you move while they’re at blue lock

bf(f) bllk x gn!reader. angst angst angsttttt

chigiri hyoma

-> he knew you wanted to leave, he just thought you’d wait until he came back

-> with no access to phones, chigiri had no way to check and make sure you were still in town. he chose to trust you when you said you’d greet him at the bus stop, and felt his chest deflate when you weren’t there

-> he thought, maybe you got the time mixed up, but his mother and sister were there. everyone he cared about but you

-> “y/n,” chigiri went quiet after that. he had his phone pressed to the side of his face as he thought about what to say. “i—“ “to send your message, press 1. to rerecord, press—“ chigiri hung up

yukimiya kenyu

-> you talked about the scholarship opportunity before he originally left for blue lock, but you weren’t supposed to hear back for another few months

-> when yukimiya knocked on your door during his two week break, eager to tell you about his experience and hear what you’d been up to, your mom breaks the news that you got the scholarship and had to move away as soon as possible to accept it in full

-> he just stared blankly before thanking her and grabbing his phone. why didn’t he think to call you first? you answer on the fourth ring. “you’re back?”

-> “i’m back… but you’re not here.” he listened to your apology with shiny eyes. “i didn’t want to choose between you and my education. i want both in my future.” “then wait for me, and i’ll wait for you, in return.” “okay… i’ll call you every night there until you have to go back.”

isagi yoichi

-> he smiled at his mom and dad briefly before looking around for the one person he really wanted to see. when you weren’t there, isagi’s brows furrowed. “y/n didn’t come?”

-> at the sad look on his mom’s face, isagi felt his hopes shatter. “sweetheart… y/n got accepted into that wonderful university overseas. they left a week ago.”

-> a week ago? there wasn’t any way for him to know that, for you to communicate that to him, but isagi still felt betrayed. he didn’t say anything the rest of the way home and went straight to his room, where he found a neatly written letter on his bed

-> yooo isagi! you started in the letter, and isagi choked on a laugh. your writing was full of promises of how you’d text and call him whenever he was on break, and you added your new number at the bottom. don’t miss me too much, babe ;) i’m still your biggest fan!!

itoshi rin

-> he didn’t think he’s miss you as much as he did. before he left, rin told you not to wait around for him, because he’d be too focused on his career to pay you any mind when he got back

-> it was true when he said it. it was true now. but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss you. didn’t think of you so often he wondered if he was mentally unwell

-> and when you didn’t answer his calls, he stopped by your house, where your family told him you’d already left. apparently, you left the day after he did

-> rin knew you were smarter than him. he knew you applied for multiple scholarships and international programs. you told him you would have stayed if he’d asked you. he never asked, and now he’d never get the chance

nagi seishiro

-> i’m sorry i couldn’t see you before you got back, your text says. it’s the first thing nagi checked when he got his phone back after blue lock let out

-> you told him before he left that you accepted a full ride to a university away from home, but he didn’t dwell on it much. you told him you’d stick around until he got back. he’d simply shrugged and continued gaming at the time

-> now, his chest hurt. his apartment felt cold and empty, even with choki back in his care for a few weeks. you liked to call yourself his best friend, but nagi never confirmed or entertained you while you were together

-> but standing in his place, alone, he felt the lack of your presence, and he didn’t like it one bit

mikage reo

-> reo was so excited to tell you about his newfound chameleon skill! there was no way for him to communicate with you while in blue lock, which only heightened his excitement for the two week break they were getting

-> it all came crashing down when he had his driver take him straight to your house, ignoring their anxious offers to take him to see his parents first. your parents gave him such sad smiles as they explained that you moved away to pursue your education

-> he immediately asked baya to help him book a flight to your new school. reo didn’t wait to greet his parents before heading straight to the airport to fly to you

-> it takes several hours, but when you opened the door, your jaw dropped at the sight of your friend from back home. “reo? what—“ he crushed you in a hug before you could finish, holding you tight as if you might slip away again. “you didn’t even let me say goodbye.”

[pandapetals]

I’m in desperate need of some Joel comfort so can I please request Joel taking care of a very sick / unwell reader?? bringing her soup, medicine, tissues - helping her shower .etc. 🥲 (I’ve been on bed rest bc I caught the new strand of covid pray for me😣✊) <33

Bed Rest

Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

Content warnings: established relationship, comfort, tenderness, sick reader, joel doing what he does best - showing his love, pet names, no y/n used

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Thank you for the request. I hope you feel better soon, anon!

“Feelin’ any better, darlin’?” Joel’s voice was filled with concern as he steadied you by the elbow, helping you step out of the tub.

The room tilted a little, a dull throb pulsing behind your eyes. You tried to shake your head, but the motion sent a wave of heat prickling down your neck. A cough rattled in your chest, scraping your throat raw.

Joel caught the slight wobble in your knees and was already moving, wrapping a thick, faded towel around your shoulders before you could manage a word. His hands were warm, moving slowly as they rubbed along your arms, chasing the lingering chill from your skin.

“Alright,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “Got some medicine from Maria… soup’s heatin’ up. Should be ready by the time we get you settled.”

He kept talking, voice a steady hum against the fog in your head. You could feel the words more than you processed them, the cadence of his voice a thread tethering you to the world as everything else blurred at the edges.

The next thing you knew, soft fabric brushed your skin — his old flannel, you realized distantly, the one that smelled like him. Joel’s hands worked with quiet care, easing you into bed like you were made of glass, tucking the blankets in snug around you.

You drifted in and out, the fever pulling you under, but Joel’s presence was a constant. The gentle scrape of stubble against your temple when he leaned in to check your forehead, the cool press of a damp cloth against the back of your neck, the low rasp of his voice murmuring something you couldn’t quite catch.

Joel came back a few minutes later, the soft creak of the floorboards announcing him before he appeared in the doorway. He carried a tray balanced in one hand — a bowl of steaming soup, a glass of water, and a couple of pills laid out neatly on a folded napkin.

“Hey,” he murmured, easing down onto the edge of the bed. “Got somethin’ for you.”

You managed a faint mumble of thanks, your throat too raw to say much more. He set the tray on the nightstand, scooping up the pills and holding them out to you with one broad palm. When your fingers fumbled, he caught your wrist gently, steadying your hand.

“C’mon now,” he coaxed, his voice soft, patient. “This’ll help.”

You forced the pills down with a sip of water, grimacing at the way they caught in your sore throat. Joel was already there with another sip, tilting the glass just enough to help without making you choke. His hand lingered, rough thumb brushing the side of your jaw.

“There you go,” he said under his breath.

His fingers ghosted over your forehead, the back of his hand cool against your burning skin. He frowned, brow furrowing like he didn’t like what he felt, but he didn’t say anything.

You sagged back against the pillows with a weary sigh, every bone in your body aching like it had been hollowed out. A sudden sneeze jolted through you, sharp and painful, sending a new wave of pressure through your skull.

“Shit,” you croaked, pressing the heel of your hand to your forehead.

Joel was already reaching for a tissue, handing it to you without a word, then rubbing your back in slow circles.

“Easy, baby,” he murmured. “You’re alright. Just let it out.”

Joel waited until your breathing evened out again, his hand still tracing circles between your shoulder blades. The fever left your skin hot and clammy, your hair damp at the temples, but he didn’t pull away.

“Alright,” he said quietly, reaching for the tray. “Let’s see if we can get some of this in you.”

You made a weak noise of protest, sinking deeper into the pillows. The thought of food turned your stomach, but the smell of the broth, rich and simple, laced with garlic and something herbaceous, was oddly comforting.

“Not hungry,” you rasped, eyes half-lidded.

“Didn’t ask,” Joel shot back. He stirred the soup, then lifted a spoonful, blowing on it before holding it out to you. “Open up, sweetheart.”

You gave him a look, one brow barely lifting. “Bossy.”

“Damn right,” he muttered. “Now quit givin’ me lip and eat somethin’.”

The warmth of the soup surprised you, not just the heat, but also the flavor, which was soothing and familiar. You managed a few small spoonfuls, Joel waiting patiently between each one, never rushing, always cooling the next bite with a careful puff of breath.

“You make this?” you asked after a while, voice rough as sandpaper.

Joel shrugged, pretending to focus on the bowl. “It’s nothin’ fancy. Used to make it for Sarah when she got sick. She hated takin’ medicine but’d drink down a whole pot of soup if I let her.”

There was a pause, your expression softening. You reached for the spoon, but your hand trembled too much to hold it steady. Joel caught your wrist again.

“Hey,” he said softly, a little teasing now. “I ain’t complainin’ about an excuse to spoon-feed a pretty girl.”

A tired, genuine smile tugged at your mouth. “Perk of the job, huh?”

“Best part so far,” Joel murmured, easing another bite between your lips.

It went on like that with bits of easy quiet and Joel’s low voice filling the spaces. The fever still hummed under your skin, but the ache in your chest loosened a little, not from the medicine or the soup, but from him.

By the time the bowl was half-empty, your eyes had drifted shut again, Joel’s rough palm brushing your hair back from your damp forehead. He set the empty dish aside, wiping his hands on his jeans as he glanced over at you.

Your eyes were half-closed, lashes clumped from fevered tears, cheeks flushed too bright. But there was a little more color in you now, a little less of that glassy, faraway look.

He reached for the damp cloth on the nightstand, folding it fresh and cool before laying it against your forehead. You sighed, your face turning instinctively toward his touch.

“Better?” he asked.

You swallowed, throat raw but not quite as sharp as before. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Stay?”

Joel huffed a breath through his nose, like it wasn’t even a question. “Ain’t goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

You hesitated, picking at a loose thread on the edge of the blanket. The words stuck, heavy and awkward in your chest, but you forced them out anyway.

“Will you…?” you started, then sighed, eyes flicking away. “Could you maybe… hold me? Just… for a little while.”

“C’mere,” he murmured.

He kicked off his boots and climbed onto the bed without ceremony, pulling you gently into his side. His arm came around your shoulders, the warmth of him seeping into your chilled skin. He tugged the blankets up around you both, settling in.

You let your head rest against his chest, the steady beat of his heart under your ear, his hand tracing lazy circles against your arm.

“This alright?” he asked, voice a low rumble against your hair.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Better than alright.”

Joel let out a quiet, satisfied noise, his chin resting on the top of your head. “Good,” he said, his voice already thick with sleep. “Ain’t lettin’ you freeze to death on my watch.”

You smiled, eyes falling shut as his hand kept moving in slow, soothing patterns. The fever still hummed under your skin, but with Joel wrapped around you, the ache felt a little less sharp.

taglist: @starmurdock

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 1

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, mild smut (at the end), threesome 

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: ~1.9K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“God my head fucking hurts,” you whine, sitting up to rub your eyes. “That wine really hit out of nowhere.” Your head pounds, it has to be part of a hangover. The last thing you remember before drinking yourself to sleep was getting fired. Your boss hadn’t even had the decency to let you know face to face. An HR representative and your manager requested a zoom call at the end of the day and politely told you to ‘clean your desk.’

After nearly three years of work with the same accounting firm, it was weird to not wake up early and head into the office. The worst part really was that your performance was still stellar, the firm was just hemorrhaging money after several questionable expansions. 

Despite the pounding headache and sensitivity to light, you force yourself to open your eyes. “What the fuck?!” Glancing around the room frantically, you panic as you realize you weren’t waking up in the comfort of your room. You had to be the subject of some prank reality tv show because the decor was undoubtedly some renaissance festival shit. The walls were brick with large tapestries decorating the stone. You were laid in the center of a giant four poster bed, black and red canopies flowing.

Slipping from the tangle of sheets and blankets, you pad towards the door. “Okay,” you call out, “you got me. Very funny.” 

Silence. 

“This is so weird” you murmur, pushing the door open as gently as possible to peak out. A woman rushes by you, dressed in some kind of drab linen and an apron. “Excuse me!” you shout, attempting to get her attention. 

The short woman slowed down, stopping to curtsy quickly at the sight of you. “My lady, forgive me. I didn’t you see you there!”

“My lady?” You asked. “What are you talking about? This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny, my lady,” she replied quietly. “Please don’t tell your wife I was making jokes! I swear I meant no harm-”

“My wife?!” Everyone has officially gone off the deep end. First this medieval times shit, now apparently you have a wife.

The woman’s eyes go wide, “Your wife, Queen Rhaenyra. My lady, are you unwell?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I have no idea what’s going on. I lost my job. I don’t know where I am or apparently who I am. I just want-” You choke off into sobs.

“Let me help you back to your room,” she offered, taking your elbow. “I’ll let the Queen know you’re unwell.”

You nodded, letting her lead you back into the room. The woman helped you into a steaming bath and left you to soak while she fetched your wife. “Can’t believe someone made an honest woman of me,” you laugh.

At some point, the entire situation stopped feeling like a prank. Maybe it was watching the maid fill the tub painstakingly bucket by bucket, or the significant lack of electricity. Either way, your situation was beginning to feel more and more real. You grab the bar of soap and lather up a cloth, scrubbing furiously at your skin. 

“That’s weird,” you murmur as you notice that your skin seems far too perfect. You usually had a couple scars littering your arms and legs, leftovers from frequently crashing your bike as a kid and general clumsiness. They all seemed to have vanished into thin air, leaving nothing but perfectly smooth, supple skin behind. “Okay, I’m officially going crazy.”

You see a small mirror on the ledge next to the tub, and reach out with shaky hands. You sigh in relief as you glance into the mirror and see that you look the same. At least you have something familiar here.

“Admiring the view? I know I am.” A deep voice purred from behind you.

Tossing the mirror back, you swiftly cover your chest and pray that the water obscurs the rest of you. “What the fuck?!” You yell, turning to confront whatever pervert decided to interrupt your bath. A tall man towered over the tub, his white hair practically glowing as the candlelight reflected off of it.

“I’m trying to have an existential crisis in here,” you hiss. “Can you come back later or something?”

He snorted a laugh, stalking forward to grab a brush from the side table and sit behind you. “And miss this opportunity? I should think not, my love.” He gently began detangling your hair and brushing it out. 

“My love? You do know I’m a married woman?” You retort.

“You never let me forget,” he replied, kissing the top of your hair. 

“I mean I have a wife, asshole!” You twist around to snatch the brush from his hands, but he lifts it out of your reach.

“What a coincidence,” he purrs, blatantly staring at your breasts. “I do too. Two, if I’m not mistaken.” His eyes dart down to your left hand, as if he knows something you don’t.

You glance at the ring that’s been there since you woke up. The black metal has a dragon insignia that looks awfully similar to the embroidery on this man’s shirt. “Fuck.” 

The man’s brows furrow, “what’s wrong?” He sets the brush down, grabbing a sheet and pulling you from the bath. He wraps you up and sits you in his lap. The warmth seeping into your skin feels so familiar and you feel yourself begin to break. Tears stream down your cheeks, and you burrow your face into his neck to hide them. 

Warm hands rub up and down your back soothingly. “My love, I cannot fix whatever is wrong if you don’t tell me.” He hums. “You don’t even have to tell me. Just give Rhaenyra a name and I will ensure whoever made you cry will never breathe again.”

You laugh at the irony. “I don’t know who Rhaenyra is. I’m not sure I even know who I am.” 

Before he can respond, a door slams. “Daemon, thank Gods you’re here. The maid said y/n was acting ill and didn’t rememb-” 

Your head peaks up over the man–Daemon’s shoulder to see the woman who ran in. Her hair is just as white as Daemon’s and her clothing adorned with the same dragon insignia. This must be Queen Rhaenyra.

“Y/n?!” Rhaenyra rushes over, kissing your cheek before she hugs you tightly. 

“My queen,” Daemon greets, leaning in for a kiss. You find yourself pressed between the two, and as much as you don’t want to admit it….the warmth and pressure feels comforting…like home. 

“I hate to break this up,” you say, wiping the last of your tears away. “But can someone tell me what is going on. The last thing I remember was being fired, getting wine drunk, and going to bed early.”

“Fired?” Rhaenyra looked confused and immediately started inspecting every exposed inch of your skin. “Did you try to feed Caraxes again? He’s a temperamental old man, just like his rider.”

“Who is Caraxes? Do ya’ll have a dog or something?”

“Dog?!” Daemon sounded almost offended. “A dog?! Rhaenyra we should fetch a maester. Our little dragon is either begging for a punishment or in need of a healer.”

Rhaenyra attempts to cover her laugh. “Caraxes, Daemon’s dragon? You insist on telling him a goodnight story at least once a week.”

“He’s a dragon of war for fucks sake,” Daemon mutters. “You’ve been making him soft.”

“Dragon?!” Your eyes go wide. “You’re joking. You’ve gotta be fucking me right now.”

“We are most definitely no-”

“We certainly could be-”

Daemon and Rhaenyra spoke at the same time. You would have laughed, but the implications of Daemon’s words were starting to settle in.

“Wait,” you being. “So if Queen Rhaenyra is my wife….and Daemon has two wives…and you two seem to be close…that means-”

“That you both are all mine,” Daemon purrs.

“Daemon, we must call for the maester. This seems serious, she doesn’t even remember us.”

“What year is this?” You ask, not sure if you want the answer.

“125 AC.” Rhaenyra responds.

“And where are we?”

“The red keep.”

“What, is that like England or something?”

“We are in Westeros.” Rhaenyra feels your forehead. “Daemon, put y/n to bed while I have the maids summon the maester.”

You yelp in surprise and Daemon stands up, holding you close to his chest. He carries you to a vanity, setting you gently on the bench before rummaging through some drawers. “Arms up, love.” He says, pulling a white shift over your head. You stare of into space as Daemon gently braids your hair. 

“Where’d you learn to do that?” You ask as he ties a ribbon at the ends of the braid.

“You and Rhaenyra are quite the demanding duo when you want to be,” he snorts. “The staff might revolt and establish Rhaenyra’s cunt of a half-brother as king if I bothered them everytime you both needed your hair done.”

“Language,” you chide. Daemon rolls his eyes before he sweeps you back up into his arms. He carries you to the bed, depositing you in the center before he climbs in. Daemon sits up, back against the headboard as he pulls you in to lean against his chest. 

“Do you really not remember us?” He asks. 

“How long have we been married?” 

“Five years. We were married in the old ways. Your High Valyrian wasn’t as good back then though.” Daemon laughs. “But it was perfect, and I wouldn’t trade you both for anything.”

“So if Rhaenyra is queen, what does that make you?” You ask. He had to be King, right?

“A lucky man.”

You laugh, and lightly hit his chest. “No, really. I don’t remember anything. Help a girl out here.”

“Prince consort.” Daemon answers. You nod, so Rhaenyra must be in charge around here.

“So how’d I end up married to Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Consort Daemon?” You ask in the poshest British accent you can muster.

“You threw yourself at my feet saying ‘Please Rhaenyra, I cannot live without you! You are the sun that brightens the sky and the stars that guide ships home!’” Rhaenyra teased. You sit up to see that Rhaenyra isn’t alone, she brought back some balding man with her. 

“I didn’t say that-” You protest.

“Really?” Daemon laughs. “My queen, it’s not proper to toy with someone who is ill.”

“You’re one to talk,” Rhaenyra says, raising a brow. “You seemed rather close when I came in earlier.”

You groan. How did you manage to survive these two for five years. 

!!SMUT BELOW!!

PREVIEW FOR PART TWO

“No,” Daemon scolds, clasping your hands together in his larger one and wrenching your body into his. “You’re not in charge here. You’re going to listen and obey like a good little girl.” You whine in response, nodding furiously in agreement. Suddenly, Rhaenyra’s warm body brushes up against your back. She nibbles lightly at your ear before kissing and licking her way down your neck.

“No need to be cruel,” Rhaenyra purrs. “Our little dragon is just begging for attention the only way she knows how.”

You whimper, canting your hips into Daemon’s. He slides a thigh between yours, pressing it up against your cunt. Your eyes roll back and you moan at the friction. “Please,” you breathe out, your teary eyes meeting his. 

NOTE: Hey all! I'm not dead, sorry for disappearing! Life happened (new job, had to travel home for a funeral). But, I got my shit back together after taking some time for myself and I'm ready to give y'all the stories I've been cooking up. I have some steamy and inspiring requests I'm working on for Feyd Rautha (so if you requested...they're coming). Glad to be back and BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR PART 2!!!! - Lacie <3

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[sh1-n0bu]

𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 30: choking with il dottore from genshin impact

warnings: choking, slapping, usage of aphrodisiac, dottore is a masochist, cockstepping, foot humping, degrading, cumming untouched, reader is a harbinger

notes: can you guys just tell that i fucking despise this rat????

as harbingers of the tsaritsa and a group of very unlovable, twisted, evil and just genuinely not-so-good people, disturbance at workplace was common. of course, said disturbance ranges from a simple hiss of “i fucking hate you. i hope your next mission goes so unwell that the only casualty will be your tattered corpse” to whatever this is. this could have easily been called as something that most people would call as ‘hate sex’ if only the both of you were not fully clothed.

so technically, this would be counted as ‘hate masturbating’? ah, fuck the labels or those things. right now, the only focus on your mind was to put this annoying bastard in his place.

he really thought he was the shit, didn’t he? the absolute galls of this motherfucker to even dare to put you down and insult you in front of your own subordinates. not just that, he went ahead and put aphrodisiacs into your coffee and his own like the absolute lunatic he was.

how badly you wanted to crush his windpipes in. that would oh so easy with your current position of your hand wrapped nicely around his neck like those beautiful chokers you see on some certain accessory shops. or even one that resembles a collar that is bound tightly around the neck of a rabies infested animal. but with a deranged doctor like dottore, the latter description seem to fit well with how he was moaning and wheezing, clothed cock humping your boots as he panted like a dog.

“you really are a detestable creature, you know that?” you hiss in sheer and utter anger, your other hand joining the other to wrap around his throat more forcefully. both hands on his neck, ready to crush his windpipes in if you wanted.

you had the power. a harbinger who’s currently in the position of tenth may be considered weak amongst fellow harbingers but even then, the tenth fatui harbinger is more than capable to shake an entire nation and to be seen as a threat to an archon.

and that tenth harbinger is you.

so even if dottore may be the second, one of the few who has the capacity to rival a god, right now he was nothing more than a pathetic dog who was humping your shoe. panting and whining loudly with his tongue stuck out, the mad doctor only focuses on the feeling of your hands choking him and the hardened leather of your shoes.

“y-yes.. yes yessshh yesyesyesyesyes oh archons, yes. i am. i’m a detestable creature. your detestable creature” dottore chokes on his spit, a wheezing shrill moan escaping his open mouth as his drool drips down his chin. he seems to like being degraded like this, the movements of his humping becoming more and more frantic on your shoe.

red eyes rolling to the back of his skull, sharp gasps and squeals following until he swore he could see black dots in his vision. he didn’t wanted to have the black spots dancing in his vision! because if so, how was he going to see you? he wanted to see you. that look of just pure anger on your face as you choke the daylights out of him and let him hump you like a dog in heat. no, he needed to see you.

“aaANGH—! kyuuck hhang♡︎♡︎ gck! ♡︎♡︎” a loud intake of breath is heard as your hands let go of the position around his neck, allowing him to breathe for a moment. not too long after, without even allowing him to catch a full breath, his head lolls to the side with a stinging feeling on the side of his cheek. did you just…?

“eyes on me. who said you could go around tearing your gaze away from me, rat” he could briefly hear your voice hiss through the ringing in his ears. muffled, faint, hard to tell if the voice was truly falling from your lips or if it was one of his manic episode voices talking.

either way, it was still your voice that was blessing his ears. it was your shoe that was now stepping on his clothed, weeping cock and he was thankful. maniac and downright insane but dottore knows a holy being when he sees and hears one. he may have not worshipped any of the archons, but for you? the mad doctor would gladly kiss the soles of your shoes over and over. hell, he would even thank you just for being in the same room as you.

call him unstable as much as you would like and he knows that. he even revels in the title and he would gladly wear that title for his entire life if he could be with you. dottore always had this odd obsession with you. since your titling of becoming the tenth fatui harbinger, he had developed this odd sense of fascination.

fascination to dottore, but unhealthy obsession to others.

not like the doctor cares. he had long since gave up trying to reason with other beings and had lost almost all contact with social interaction if not for the harbingers gathering or his experiments with his lab rats. until you joined his ranks.

“i said eyes on me, doctor” you grunt, slapping him across his face again. on the other cheek this time. that seemed to have done the work to catch his attention successfully as his hazy blood eyes focus on you. his cheeks were the same shade of red as his eyes, however it was hard to tell whether it was from your forceful hits or his blushing.

“ougck—! yess.. ye-es yes yesyesyesyes, eyes on you♡︎eyes solely on you♡︎” the blue haired man nods frantically, slight twitch and wince in his eyes showing that the added pressure to his cock was just a tad bit painful for him. even a masochist has their limits. but did he care? no. no he absolutely did not care. if anything, the crazy doctor wanted it to hurt since it was you who was delivering these delicious cocktail of pleasure and pain. he wanted it to hurt. he wanted it to feel good.

with another slap to his cheek for his continued disobedience — for constantly trying to look down at where your shoe was stepping on his stained pants — the doctor lets out a choked noise akin to a mewl before his entire body spasms. thighs shaking and twitching before a strangled noise is let out as the stain in his pants become darker and darker. the stain moving and spreading, some of it even seeping through the fabrics of his clothes as it drips onto the floor below.

“did you… just cum untouched?” you ask, doing a double take as you lift up your shoe to stare at the white translucent juice drip down onto the floor, leaving a tiny puddle. dottore only giggles, almost as if he was in a drunken haze, as he slowly lifts up his face to stare at you. he looked positively fucked up.

“do that again, pleaasshee♡︎?” dottore drawls out.

[noctiva]

Penny for your thoughts, tiva darling??

Wanted to pick ur brain some more about our favorite deranged murder malewives :3 what do you think some of Toby and Ej’s favorite positions are in bed?? 🤔 (word vomit incoming bc that’s just what I do here ig)

I feel like Jackie boi would be into the more primal shit (go figure!!) like rlly into manhandling and just how absurd his size is compared to yours and takes full advantage of just wrangling you abt however he sees fit as if u were a little doll,,,like fuckin u from behind but towering over you and taking hold of ur neck so u have no choice but to stare up at this BEAST behind u just goin ham grunting and growling away….yum (I need to draw this skghfjfnfj)

But for our Toby!!!! Absolute mad lad. He’s actually a funny one bc I can see him liking to be a bit sweeter at times,, seeking out positions were he can see ur pretty face and watch the expressions and hear the sounds he pulls outta u best. But I cannot lie I’m a SUCKER for rlly mean rlly ruff and tuff Toby where he just wants to push u to ur limits and see how much he can make u endure. (This is why ur writing just DOES things to me) Like absolutely ravaging the shit outta u while keeping u in a headlock type beat LMAO ur drooling all over his bicep as he ruts against ur pretty ass and u get to listen to all those husky breaths and whimpers in ur ear abt how good u feel :((( #winning

Perfect counterpart to Jack having to be a bit more gentle and mindful of his strength no???? My princesses make me so crazy ✊😔 I’m unwell :’)

-🧃

oh I will GLADLY answer this

You hit the nail on the head with Jack. He’s well aware of the difference in both size and strength between the two of you. So, he’s careful - so not to accidentally hurt you - but he’s using his difference in strength to a FULL advantage

His favourite positions include…

You on top, regular or reverse cowgirl, he doesn’t really care - just so that he can grab hold of your waist and bounce you up and down on him like a doll. You don’t even have to do anything tbh, he’s doing all the work

Standing - is there anything better than having you moaning and clinging to him while he holds your body tightly and fucks up into you? For Jack, no tbh. He loves how you just go so pliant, grappling into him with trembling fingers as his claws dig into the meat of your ass

Mating press - c’mon, we saw this coming. Just absolutely pounding you into the bed dude LMAO he just loves bending your body to his will, Pushing your knees right up to your chest, damn near folding you in half as he presses down on your calves, keeping you riiiiight where he wants you

Doggy, but he’s a little mean with it - claws digging into your hips and pressing your stomach flush against the bed, forcing your body into a mean arch as he sinks into you over and over again. Sometimes he’ll snake a hand around your throat and pull you up towards him - back flush to his chest as you gasp for air

Toby on the other hand is a bit of a wild card tbh. He likes a little bit of everything - so long as he’s inside you he’s happy lmao

But if he had to choose…

Face off 100% - He just loves your pretty face, and wants to see it up close in personal when it scrunches up and contorts in pleasure. Loves making out with you while y’all are fucking too, so this is perfect. You on his lap, pressed so close he can feel every breath you take - moaning into his mouth with each roll of your hips

69 - LOLLL yeah I’m throwing this out here because dude loves to eat pussy, and what’s better than that? You choking on his cock while he does it. Big fan. Even after he cums he’ll still be up in it though, leaving you gasping and moaning right next to his dick as he fucks his tongue into you

Missionaryyy - He’s a lover boy, okay? Plus, he loves playing with and sucking on your tits while you tremble beneath him. Bonus points because it’s just so easy to bury his face in your neck and get his teeth sunk into your flesh

Backshots, but against a wall - Nasty fucker sksksjsk. There’s just something about the way you crumple. How your body slips further down the wall with each thrust, how your legs get shaky and your knees buckle, leaving him to practically hold your whole weight up as he fucks into you. Loves it. You look so pathetic.

Bonus round!

Toby’s a fan of fucking you in front of mirrors. Getting to see what’s going on from every angle. How your ass jiggles when you ride him, how your eyes roll back when he’s fucking you from behind. The type to get a mirror installed above your bed LMAO

Jack’s blind, so he’s big on touch and taste. Caressing and licking every inch of skin he can get at. Mapping out your entire body with his fingers and tongue.

Toby’s up for bondage. Like forreal, with ropes and gags, or just him tugging his belt off and using it to tie your wrists together. (Lovessss fucking you from behind like this. Using your bound wrists as leverage to pull you back onto him with each thrust)

Jack LOVES getting head. He knows he’s big, even your pussy can barely take him sometimes - so getting to hear you whimper and whine as you struggle to open your jaw wide enough for him? Exquisite.

Toby will fuck you quite literally anywhere if you ask him. Bathroom? Outside? On the kitchen table? Sure! Let him at it!

Jack’s a tease. Tbh the first 30 mins will probably just be him lazily dragging his claws across your skin. Feeling the goosebumps that raise on your body, hearing it as your pulse picks up.

[moonstruckme]

hi love, i've been doing kind of unwell lately and was wondering if you could write some remus x depressed reader or just comfort in a domestic way in general. been feeling like i suck at doing 'normal' every-day things and only a hug from rem could fix me lol

Hi sweetheart, I'm sorry to hear it :( I hope you're giving yourself a bit of grace and getting support if you can <3

cw: reader is experiencing a depressive period

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 695 words

You realize it must be afternoon when you hear the front door open. The last few days, time seems to drag on without you. Your hours are long and irrelevant, one bleeding into the next without your notice. But you know Remus wasn’t supposed to get back from his work trip until this afternoon. 

Your home is still a mess. You’d thought you’d clean it before he could see, but apparently your shame wasn’t enough to overpower your lethargy. It feels powerful now. 

You close your eyes as Remus comes into the bedroom, but you know what he sees. Despite your best efforts, the curtains aren’t thick enough to block out all light, so there isn’t much to obscure the wrappers littering the floor, the crumbs on the bed, the towel where you’d spilled some water and then been too lazy to finish cleaning it up. You know he’s already witnessed a similar disaster in the kitchen and living room, and yet you feel worse for being found at the center of it in here. 

Remus is silent as he sets down his bag, walks in between trash and other debris, and crawls up onto the bed with you. 

“Hi, lovely,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek with a hand on your shoulder. “I missed you.” 

You start crying. Fat, hot tears that carve down your cheeks with unnatural quietude. You feel anything but lovely right now. 

“Sweetheart.” Remus’ eyebrows come together knowingly. His thumb moves over your shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, a choked whisper. “I didn’t mean for it to get this bad.” 

He hushes you softly, his voice a balm. “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay, it really is. I promise I don’t mind. Just relax, babydove, everything’s alright. I love you. We’re okay.” 

He lies there with you while your tears slow and stop. It takes a couple of tries, your breaths halting when you try to hold them in, but Remus’ presence is steady and tolerant. His thumb strokes your shoulder until the muscles underneath it relax. 

“We’re okay,” he says again, a reminder. He kisses you, tucking a hand underneath your cheek. “Why didn’t you call and tell me you weren’t feeling well? We could have talked about it, or I could have come home.” 

You lick your bottom lip. The taste of him mixes with the taste of salt. “I didn’t want to bother you—”

“Oi.” It’s not harsh, but the reprimand in his tone isn’t lost entirely to gentleness. Remus holds your face in his hand, looking you in the eyes. “You could never. Understand?” He allows you a brief pause, and his expression softens. “I would always rather know when you’re not feeling well, sweetheart. Even if we’d decided I shouldn’t come home, I could have at least tried to look after you in other ways.” 

You uptilt one side of your mouth half-heartedly. “It wouldn’t have felt fair to have you looking after me from afar when I can’t even look after our place from here.” 

Remus tsks. He kisses you again, an overly generous reward for your poor attempt at humor. “Stop worrying about that,” he chides sweetly, dotting another kiss on your cheek. “I know you convince yourself that I’ll be upset, but I really don’t care. We can tidy up together later, if you’re feeling up to it. I’m not fussed either way.” 

You close your eyes, relinquishing yourself to Remus’ ministrations. He spends a slow minute sweeping his thumb over your cheek, kissing an enigmatic pattern on your face, coasting his hand down from your shoulder to rub your back. Your face presses his hand into your pillow. 

“Can I ask you to do something for me?” he asks softly. 

You hum in response. You would do anything for him; you would try your best. 

“Come sit with me in the kitchen while I make us something to eat?” His lips brush over yours as if to sweeten the deal. “Just to keep me company. I missed you a lot, you know.” 

You kiss him back, tender and light. Your heart hurts; it’s a pleasant ache. “I missed you, too.” 

[hisfavegirl]

Aegon Targaryen As Your Soulmate.

a/n : With Reaction.

When He Propose To You.

The night in Paris was breathtaking. The Eiffel Tower shimmered in the distance, its golden lights reflecting off the Seine, casting a dreamy glow over the quiet streets. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of roses from the nearby garden, and the city buzzed softly in the background.

Aegon had been unusually quiet all evening, his fingers laced with yours as he led you down a secluded pathway near the river. You didn’t think much of it—he often got like this when something was on his mind. But when he suddenly stopped under the silver glow of the moonlight, his grip on your hand tightening, your heart began to race.

“What is it?” you whispered, searching his face.

His violet eyes burned with an emotion so raw it made your breath hitch. He exhaled, almost like he was steadying himself, before reaching into his pocket. And then—he got down on one knee.

Your lips parted, a sharp gasp slipping out as your hands flew to your mouth.

“I’ve been trying to find the right words for this,” Aegon started, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “But the truth is, there are no perfect words—only this. Only you.”

Your heart thundered.

“You are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “And I don’t want another day to pass where I don’t call you my wife.”

He opened the small velvet box, revealing a stunning ring that caught the moonlight just right, sparkling like the stars above you.

“Marry me.”

You felt everything all at once. The world around you blurred, your vision swimming with unshed tears as your chest tightened with overwhelming love, shock, joy.

You dropped to your knees, throwing your arms around him, knocking him back onto the pavement with your weight.

“Yes,” you choked out, pressing frantic kisses to his face. “Yes, Aegon—yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!”

He laughed breathlessly, his hands burying in your hair as he pulled you in for a deep, lingering kiss, the kind that made your toes curl and the rest of the world fade away.

Paris had never felt more like a dream.

When You And Aegon Posted The Announcement Of Your Engagement.

When you and Aegon Targaryen dropped your engagement announcement, the world stopped spinning.

The first photo? Utter perfection.

Paris at night. The Eiffel Tower glowing behind you. Aegon’s hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you breathless. And your left hand? Front and center, flashing a massive diamond ring.

The second slide? Even worse for them.

Aegon, smirking against your neck, his arms wrapped possessively around you as if to say, “She’s mine.”

And then the caption? A KILL SHOT.

“Said yes to the love of my life. Forever with my king.”

Then? Mass hysteria.

Aegon’s fangirls:

“I’M GONNA BE SICK. THIS ISN’T HAPPENING.”

“WHY DID HE HAVE TO PROPOSE IN PARIS??? WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE SO ROMANTIC???”

“Not Aegon Targaryen taking my last shred of hope and throwing it into the Seine.”

“SHE REALLY PUT ‘FOREVER’ IN THE CAPTION. I’M UNWELL.”

“The way he’s holding her… the way he’s KISSING her… this is worse than heartbreak.”

Some were in complete denial:

“This is fake. They’re trolling us. RIGHT???”

“The way I am IGNORING this post and going about my day as if I didn’t see it.”

“NO. I REFUSE. I WILL NOT ACCEPT THIS.”

And then, the grief hit.

“It should have been me.”

“I can’t even HATE her because she looks so happy. But I’m still dying inside.”

“How do I explain to my boss that I can’t work today because Aegon Targaryen is officially off the market???”

“I hope Paris was worth the pain you’ve caused me.”

Then? The edits.

Slow-motion clips of Aegon smirking, winking, running his hand through his hair. Montages of his best moments, now labeled: “HE’S GONE, HE’S TAKEN, I’M IN TEARS.”

And the hashtags? Immediate trending topics.

#AegonEngaged

#SheWonWeLost

#ParisTookEverythingFromUs

#HePutARingOnItAndABulletInMyHeart

Your fanboys? Equally destroyed.

“BRO, HOW DID SHE SECURE AEGON TARGARYEN???”

“She’s officially sold out. We lost, boys.”

“The way he’s devouring her in that kiss??? I CAN’T.”

“I respect it… but I’m also sobbing.”

Some had full meltdowns:

“I WAS HOLDING ONTO HOPE. NOW I HAVE NOTHING.”

“Not only did she win, but she won IN PARIS. The disrespect is astronomical.”

“We can’t even say she’s just a fling. SHE HAS A RING. IT’S OVER.”

Meanwhile, the overanalyzing began.

“The way Aegon is holding her like he’s afraid to let go…”

“You can SEE the obsession in his eyes. He’s never letting her go.”

“This isn’t just a proposal. This is a CLAIM.”

At this point, no one could deny it.

This wasn’t just an engagement.

This was a global tragedy. And Aegon’s fangirls & your fanboys?

Never recovering from this heartbreak.

Aegon Family Reaction To Your Engagement Announcement.

When Aegon dropped the engagement bomb on Instagram, his entire family group chat EXPLODED.

Alicent (His Mother) – SHOCKED. EMOTIONAL. PANICKING.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ENGAGED??? AEGON???”

“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU WERE GOING TO PROPOSE???”

“I AM YOUR MOTHER. I SHOULD HAVE BEEN WARNED.”

“DID YOU EVEN PLAN A WEDDING DATE? HAVE YOU TWO TALKED ABOUT THE FUTURE?”

(…then sends a million heart emojis because she loves you and is already planning a royal-level wedding in her head.)

Helaena (His Sister) – SOFT AND SUPPORTIVE.

“Awwww. I love this. You two are perfect together.”

“Mom, let them enjoy their moment.”

“Also, I’m already picking out gifts for the wedding.”

Aemond (His Brother) – ANNOYED BUT SECRETLY AMUSED.

“This is what you’re doing in Paris? Proposing?”

“You couldn’t even warn us first?”

“You know your fangirls are crying themselves to sleep tonight, right?”

(But deep down, he’s actually happy for you both—he just refuses to admit it.)

Daemon (His Uncle) – ABSOLUTELY LOVING THE CHAOS.

“HAHAHAHA. YOU REALLY DID IT, YOU MADMAN.”

“This is hilarious. The internet is in flames.”

“Also, Aegon, if you don’t throw the most INSANE bachelor party, I’m disowning you.”

Rhaenyra (His Half-Sister) – SURPRISED BUT SUPPORTIVE.

“I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d be the first to settle down.”

“But… I’m genuinely happy for you.”

“You found someone who can handle your insanity. That’s true love.”

Otto Hightower (His Grandfather) – PANICKING LIKE A CEO.

“DO YOU KNOW HOW THIS AFFECTS YOUR IMAGE, AEGON?”

“The world is going to talk about this for WEEKS.”

“Did you sign a prenup?”

(Alicent kicks him out of the group chat for ruining the mood.)

Criston Cole (Family Bodyguard) – SILENTLY JUDGING BUT ACCEPTING HIS FATE.

“Guess I’m protecting her now too. Great.”

Meanwhile, Aegon?

Smirking at the chaos he just unleashed.

When You And Aegon Posted Your Wedding Video On Internet.

The internet exploded the moment the wedding video was posted—Aegon walking out of the church, smiling brighter than ever, hand in hand with you, the new Mrs. Targaryen. The video was cinematic, capturing every perfect moment: the way he looked at you with pure adoration, the way he kissed you like you were his entire world, and the way you both laughed, danced, and celebrated at the extravagant reception.

The caption?

“Beyond Happy. Forever my queen.”

And with that, Aegon’s fangirls completely lost their minds.

Instagram Comments Section: A Fan Meltdown

“NOOOOOOOOOO THIS CAN’T BE REAL!!! I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE!!!!” 😭💔

“HOW DARE SHE LOOK THAT BEAUTIFUL?? AEGON, BLINK TWICE IF YOU WERE FORCED INTO THIS!!”

“He looks so happy… I hate this."

“Not me sobbing while watching this in my room at 3AM.”

“I CAN’T EVEN LOOK AT HIM. HE WAS OURS, GIRLS. NOW HE’S HERS.”

“I just know she’s the luckiest woman ALIVE.”

Twitter/X Fangirl Breakdown :

“I am LITERALLY inconsolable. Aegon is MARRIED. To HER. I need therapy.”

“Someone check on the fandom. We’re NOT okay.”

“Why does he look so in love? This HURTS MORE.”

“Watching my man walk out of the church with another woman… worst pain of my life.”

“Aegon’s smile in that wedding video just ended my entire existence.”

TikTok Reaction Videos :

One girl, full mascara streaks down her face: “I just saw the wedding video… I need a moment.”

Another girl, drinking straight from a vodka bottle: “It’s official. I’m entering my villain era.”

A group of fangirls screaming in their car: “WE LOST HIM. HE’S GONE. HE BELONGS TO HER NOW.”

Someone dramatically playing sad music while clutching a framed photo of Aegon: “This could have been me…”

The Ultimate Fangirl Betrayal: Aegon’s Wedding Reception Photos. If the video wasn’t enough, the photos from the wedding reception sent the fangirls into a frenzy.

Aegon twirling you on the dance floor, his eyes only on you.

Aegon kissing you like he was drowning and you were air.

Aegon lifting you up bridal-style, grinning at the camera.

Aegon feeding you cake, licking frosting off your fingers.

At this point, some girls deleted their fan pages, some started crying in their pillows, and some just accepted their fate.

But the real heartbreak? Aegon himself responding to the meltdown:

@AegonTargaryen: “She’s my wife now. Y’all better deal with it.” 😎💍

When You And Aegon Posted About Your Pregnancy

When the post went up, the internet exploded.

Aegon’s Instagram—normally flooded with thirsty comments and heart emojis—was now a war zone of disbelief, heartbreak, and sheer chaos.

The photo? Devastating.

It was a beautiful shot of you and Aegon—his hand resting possessively over your very visible baby bump while he kissed the side of your head. The second slide? An ultrasound.

Two embryos.

Twins.

The caption? Simple, smug, and absolutely soul-crushing:

“Our greatest blessing. Can’t wait to meet our little dragons.”

And then—pure pandemonium.

“TWINS?!! BITCH STOLE BOTH OUR BABIES?!”

“I HAVEN’T EVEN RECOVERED FROM THE ENGAGEMENT ANNOUNCEMENT WTF.”

“I’m gonna be sick. Aegon was supposed to impregnate ME.”

“Not one. BUT TWO. SHE TOOK BOTH. I CAN’T BREATHE.”

“I need a moment. Aegon Targaryen rawdogged this woman twice and now she’s carrying TWINS. I can’t function.”

“We lost, ladies. This is our red wedding.”

“I was delulu, but this… this is the final nail in the coffin.”

Some were in full denial:

“That’s AI. That’s NOT real. I REFUSE.”

“Maybe it’s for a movie role? Right? RIGHT?!”

“The ultrasound is Photoshopped. I checked.” (It was not.)

And then there were the true unhinged ones:

“I’M GONNA PRETEND THOSE ARE MY BABIES.”

“Okay but what if she lets me babysit?”

“I hope the twins grow up knowing their father was mine first.”

Within an hour, your name was #1 trending worldwide. Fan edits, conspiracy theories, and pure devastation flooded every corner of the internet. It was over for them.

You had won.

When You And Aegon Posted About Your Twins Arrival.

The moment Aegon posted the photo—you lying in the hospital bed, exhausted but glowing, holding your newborn twins in your arms, while he kissed you with tears in his eyes—social media imploded.

The Caption That Broke the Internet:

“Welcome to the world, little dragons. Your mother is the strongest woman I know. I love you forever.”

And just like that, Aegon’s fangirls and your fanboys lost their collective minds.

Instagram Comments Section: An Emotional Warzone

“I AM CRYING, THROWING UP, SCREAMING—THIS CAN’T BE REAL.”

“Aegon crying over his wife and babies? Yeah, I’m done for.”

“I should’ve logged out when they got married. Now they have KIDS?!?”

“Not him looking at her like she hung the moon while holding their babies. This is actual pain.”

“You mean to tell me Aegon, the playboy prince, is a devoted husband and crying father now? Yeah, I lost.”

Twitter/X Reactions: A Global Tragedy

“Not only did we lose Aegon, but now he’s a full-time husband AND father? We lost him forever.”

“He cried. HE CRIED WHILE KISSING HER. How do you expect me to survive this?”

“I thought the wedding was bad, but the baby announcement just ended me.”

“Aegon went from heartbreaker to husband of the year and now devoted girl dad?? This is unfair.”

“We are officially extinct. Aegon belongs to HER and their BABIES now.”

TikTok Reaction Videos: Fangirls & Fanboys Mourning

One girl dramatically closing her laptop and walking away: “Nope. Nope. This is my villain origin story.”

A fanboy sobbing into a pillow: “First she took him, now she has his children. I have nothing left.”

A group of fangirls screaming at the screen: “NOT THE TEARFUL KISS. NOT THE BABIES. I CAN’T.”

Someone chugging wine in a dark room: “I need time to process this betrayal.”

A TikTok edit of Aegon’s bad boy days fading into husband & dad Aegon with the caption: “WE LOST HIM FOREVER.”

The Final Blow: Aegon’s Response to the Fangirl Meltdown

Just as the internet was spiraling into despair, Aegon added another post—a short video clip of him holding one of the twins against his chest, murmuring softly while the baby cooed, and then looking at you with the most lovestruck expression.

@AegonTargaryen: “I never knew I could love like this. My world. My family.”

And just like that, his fangirls & your fanboys flatlined.

Tag list : @danytar @julessworldd @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @callsignwidow @ashblooddragons

Big thanks to @zaldritzosrose for letting me use your beautiful dividers