#eyes glowing red etc etc

[sntoot]

batu is so short in every cutscene theyre barely peeking over the edge of the screen to stay in the shot with all the ancients

lahabrea holding both his kids up by the collar of their robes: can you guys stop being gay for FIVE MINUTES (the answer is no)

[amouress16]

A quick thing to celebrate the movie teaser! Still hard to believe it’s real and on the way...

[spectorgram]

FAN BEHAVIOR

characters: dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake summary: batboys with a celebrity! reader content/warnings: fem! reader, fluff

DICK GRAYSON

You’re an actress who has had a meteoric rise, moving from doing small, one-off parts in TV shows to becoming a breakout star on a particularly popular series to being cast in major movie productions

Your stardom is still a little surreal to you and when you’re invited to a wayne enterprise charity gala, you contemplate not going — what business do you have being somewhere with people far more famous than you? But when you tell your agent this, she gives you a look that says you’re insane for even considering declining

You’ll forever be grateful that she urged you to do so because that’s where you meet Dick

He’s standing with Bruce Wayne, chatting with some frequent donors, dressed in a perfectly-tailored navy blue suit when he sees you out of the corner of his eye and he lights up. He approaches you first with that megawatt smile and introduces himself with an extended hand and says, “I’m a huge fan! I’ve been watching your stuff since you were in Legends of the Kingdom!” And the rest is history

Dick goes to every red carpet event you invite him to and he makes it a point to attend every private premiere screening and public opening night

He definitely shushes anyone who talks during your movies or TV shows and does not care if people think he’s obnoxious.

You’re definitely the ‘it couple’ and your faces are plastered constantly on magazine covers and two-page spreads

There are people who try to sow discord in your relationship and their go-to is either pointing out how different you are to Dick’s former girlfriends; that you’re not his type, that this isn’t going to last, etc., or that you’re not talented enough for the fame you have or to be dating Dick Grayson

It definitely gets to you and does nothing to whatever lingering imposter syndrome you harbor but Dick is such a grounding force, reminding you that it’s all just noise and that he loves you completely and unconditionally

At home, he likes to rewind your scenes in shows and movies, and it flatters you as much as it flusters you

He also likes to read through scripts with you when he can and his voices for the various other characters bring you to tears from laughter 

So many intentional and unintentional thirst trap couples pics. Like, a selfie you post one morning — Dick is shirtless and you’re in one of his old t-shirts and its sliding down your shoulder and showing your collarbone and you’re both laying on your stomachs in your shared bed, hair sleep (and sex) tousled with the morning sun making both of you look like you’re golden and glowing 

JASON TODD

You meet Jason as Red Hood first when you’re running from the paparazzi but you don’t know it’s him

They chase you down a couple of blocks before someone tugs you into an alleyway and you’re about to scream for help when you see who it is. Red Hood shields you as the paparazzi pass and when you ask him why he helped you, he simply says, “I hate the paps and you looked like you needed a hand.”

Once he’s sure the coast is clear, he walks you back to your hotel using the back alleys of Gotham. You make several attempts to strike a conversation up with him in the first few minutes of your walk but what seems to catch his interest is when you start rambling on about just finishing Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment. 

You’re disappointed when you arrive at your hotel and you’re rush inside to find a pad to scribble your number on but he’s gone when you return, disappearing into the night

It’s by chance that you meet him again (unbeknownst to you), this time in his civilian identity as Jason Todd. You’re in disguise at a bookstore in Gotham when you bump into him and spill his iced coffee all over both of you, apologizing profusely and offering to buy him another drink, which he accepts. (His voice is oddly familiar to you but you can’t put your finger on why) 

You two keep in touch and start dating privately. The long-distance is difficult at times given your very different and busy schedules and Jason is pretty cagey about what he does but you both make time for each other as much as possible

He tells you that he listens to your music during his workouts and in the background while he’s doing stuff around his apartment. He hums along too.

He recommends your songs to anyone who listens, which raises suspicions in the Batfam, and it obviously doesn’t take long for them to figure out that he’s dating you but he makes them promise to keep it to themselves. 

Whenever you have a concert in Gotham, which you make a point to do frequently, Jason is in the VIP box, bobbing his head and mouthing along to your songs. When it ends, he’s right there backstage with flowers and a thermos of tea for your throat

Your relationship goes public when fans capture of video of you two leaving one of your concerts together, Jason’s leather jacket draped over your shoulders

You eventually move to Gotham to be closer to him and the two of you spend every free moment either of you have together, making up for lost time. 

You still try to keep your relationship as private as possible but fans eat up any crumbs they get, including the occasional selfie of you both 

He is your biggest inspiration for songs and also your biggest help. You love bouncing ideas off of him and he likes sitting with you when you pick at your guitar strings and mumble a half-formed melody

(You eventually do find out that he’s Red Hood when he tumbles through the window of your bedroom, bleeding profusely, and you have to take his helmet off to assess the damage)

TIM DRAKE

You’ve known Tim since you were kids given that your parents ran in the same social circles

You started out as a child model in department store clothing catalogs. Tim did some shoots with you too but while his parents eventually stopped auditioning him for such jobs, you continued until the present day, and you’re now a well-known supermodel 

You two have been friends forever and the internet laps up your interactions together. There are compilations of videos and photos of the two of you at banquets and red carpet events and memes with text like “when will someone look at me like that?”

Before you two even started dating, there were articles about a supposed romance and sexual tension between you two. In interviews, you would vehemently deny anything asked about it and reiterate that you two are just good friends

At some point, however, you start seeing your childhood friend in a different light. He’s kind, brilliant, funny, attentive, and very handsome. It’s not that you didn’t know that before but it’s different now. You find yourself shying away his casual touches and suddenly conscious of your actions around him — did you laugh too loud? Is your hair in your face? Does he know how you feel? Can he tell?

You don’t want to ruin your friendship, as cliche as it sounds, so you did your best to keep your feelings under wraps, which resulted in you distancing yourself. When Tim would text to congratulate you on your latest Vogue cover or runway show, you would simply shoot a simple ‘thanks!’ text back instead of the usual ‘THANK U’ followed by five heart emojis. 

He confronts you about it one day and you’ve never really been a good liar in front of him so you tell him, bracing for a gentle rejection but instead receiving a kiss. 

You made a hard launch post with him on Instagram and received hundreds of DMs of people saying they were vindicated in believing that “friends don’t look at each other like that”

Tim is in the front row at every single runway show you have, dressed impeccably in an expensive suit. He takes pictures of you and visits you backstage with your favorite sweet treat.

After fashion shows and other events, you return to his apartment to let your hair down and put your feet up. You do your skincare routines together, sheet face mask and all, and snuggle on the couch for some TV or just to hang out and talk endlessly

You’re very active on social media with him and you two have a lot of couples posts together. When you both have time, you do Instagram lives where people watch you two make dinner together or answer some questions from viewers. A fan favorite is when you choose outfits for each other.

During a runway, you blow a kiss at Tim in the audience and the camera zooms in on his face, where he just watches you with a lovestruck expression and bright red ears — it’s in almost every video compilation that’s titled something like ‘15 minutes of Tim Drake being a simp’

[sugugasm]

“NERDS DO IT BETTER.” | satoru gojo

⟡ tags : nerd! satoru + popular! yn, gojo loses his virginity at the hot cheerleader’s house party - content includes : reader uses she/her pronouns, fem! reader, riding, fingering, inexperienced! gojo, pet names, etc. also shout out 2 my fav @ramonathinks m’ so proud of this piece bae i hope you luv it jus as much as i do !!! MDNI 19+ 3.7K WC

satoru adjusted his glasses nervously as he and geto approached the sprawling mansion, music and laughter spilling out into the warm night air. “i don’t know about this, man,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. “parties aren’t really my scene.”

geto rolled his eyes. “come on, live a little! when was the last time you got out and socialized? besides, you-know-who will be here . .” he elbowed gojo with a knowing grin.

gojo flushed, ducking his head. “like [★] would even look twice at me. she’s so far out of my league it’s not even funny.”

“well yeah, not with that attitude!” geto chided. “you’re a catch, gojo. smart, funny, stupid handsome. any girl would be lucky to have you. just talk to her, be your charming self. what’s the worst that could happen?”

“she could laugh in my face?” gojo suggested glumly. “or have her quarterback boyfriend beat me up?”

geto sighed in exasperation, slinging an arm around his best friend's shoulders. “you’ll never know if you don’t try. [★] is single and i’ve seen her checking you out in class when she thinks no one’s looking. trust me, you’ve got a shot. don’t waste it being a pussy.”

gojo took a fortifying breath as they crossed the threshold into the packed house. “okay. i’ll talk to her. but if i crash and burn, you owe me a whole tub of ice cream and a weekend of binge gaming, no complaints.”

“deal,” geto agreed easily, scanning the crowd. “now let’s get you a drink and go find your dream girl.”

and within only an hour and several red solo cups later, gojo could be found sandwiched between two jocks on a couch, only half-listening to their drunken debate about the upcoming game. his eyes kept flicking to where you held court across the room, radiant in a barely-there crop top and mini-skirt as you laughed with your girls. you were a vision, beautiful hair and glowing skin and dangly earrings catching the light. ethereal, untouchable.

what would a goddess like you possibly want with a loser like him?

and as if on cue, your gaze met his and your glossy lips curved in a small secret smile, eyes sparkling with mischief. his breathing hitched and he looked away quickly, face heating. okay, maybe geto had a point about you noticing him . . .

“who wants to play seven minutes in heaven?” your bubbly friend tiffany trilled over the music, brandishing an empty vodka bottle. “let’s make things interesting!”

wolf-whistles and drunken cheers met her suggestion as people began arranging themselves in a loose circle. gojo watched you toss your hair over your shoulder as you joined, a strange fluttering in his stomach. he jumped when geto clapped him on the shoulder.

“dude, this is perfect!” geto crowed. “the ideal low-pressure way to get some one-on-one time with [★]. let's get you in that circle.” he started pulling a sputtering gojo up off the couch.

“wha-geto, no way!” gojo protested, but it was too late. geto had already shoved him into the circle, right across from you. you quirked an eyebrow at him and his stomach somersaulted. was that a pleased gleam in your eyes?

the bottle made a few uneventful rounds - geto got seven giggly minutes with the head of the drama club, a blushing band student got dragged off by her fellow tuba player, and then . . tiffany passed the bottle to you with a significant look. gojo’s heart started smacking against his chest as you placed it in the center and gave it a deft spin, slender wrist twisting gracefully.

he watched with bated breath as the bottle rotated, transfixed. it seemed to spin for an eternity before finally slowing . . and stopping. neck pointed directly at gojo. blood roared in his ears as hoots and hollers erupted around the circle. you were looking right at him, a small smile playing about your glossy lips. “guess s’ jus’ you n’ me, cutie,” you said with a wink, getting elegantly to your feet.

in a daze, gojo stumbled upright, barely registering the good-natured ribbing and back slaps from the other players. you held out a hand to him and he took it automatically, skin tingling where it met yours. your fingers laced intimately through his as you tugged him away from the group . . . and toward the stairs?

“um, [★]?” gojo asked, voice cracking humiliatingly. “isn’t the closet that way?”

you threw a smile over your shoulder and his knees nearly buckled. “i got a better spot in mind. somethin’ more . . private.”

by the time his sluggish brain processed the implications of that, you were leading him into a bedroom. your bedroom, if the riot of pink and stuffed animals everywhere was any indication. you flicked on a lamp, bathing the space in soft flattering light.

gojo stood awkwardly by the door, heart doing double-time as he drank in the adorable organized chaos. various raye, boygenius, and sanrio posters on the walls, rainbow lego sets on the shelves. it was delightfully telling and somewhat . . surprising, so at odds with your smokeshow attitude and queen bee reputation. he was utterly charmed.

“sorry about the mess,” you said, sounding uncharacteristically shy as you perched on the edge of the lacy bedspread. “i know it’s a lot.”

“no, i love it!” gojo blurted, then winced. real smooth. “i mean, it’s really cute. suits you.”

“yeah?” you asked, sounding pleased. you patted the space beside you in clear invitation. “i don’t bite . . unless i’m asked nicely. c’mon, come sit with me, gojo.”

on slightly unsteady legs, he crossed the plush rug to sink down next to you, hyperaware of the warmth of your bare thigh against his denim-clad one. “so, um, i don’t really know how this is supposed to go,” he admitted, rubbing his neck. “i’m not exactly a seven minutes in heaven expert.”

“well, we’ve got some time to figure it out together,” you said, angling your body toward his. “maybe we could start with just talking? get to know each other a little?”

so that’s what you did. you started off with the typical small talk - classes, hobbies, favorite bands. but the conversation quickly deepened and expanded. you found yourself opening up to him, confessing your secret dreams and fears, things you rarely shared with anyone. in turn, he revealed his geeky passions, his insecurities, his hopes for the future.

the more you learned about the sweet, clever, quietly funny boy beneath the nerdy exterior, the more your heart softened and warmed. he was so genuine, so different from the jocks and rich boys you usually ran with. being with him felt comfortable, natural, intoxicating.

at some point, you’d shifted closer to him on the bed, your folded legs overlapping his, shoulders brushing. as you giggled your way through an anecdote, you rested a hand on his strong thigh without thinking. he tensed slightly and you felt a little thrill, a flicker of heat. you squeezed gently, fingertips pressing into firm muscle.

“m’ probably boring you,” you said with a wry smile, glancing at him through your lashes. “jus’ rambling on about myself. we could do something else, if you want. maybe, y’know, uphold the seven minutes tradition . .”

he inhaled sharply and you thrilled at the effect you were clearly having on him. “you mean . . you want to kiss me?”

“i mean, i definitely wouldn’t object,” you murmured coyly. “i like you a lot, satoru. in case it isn’t already obvious.”

his blue eyes darkened behind his glasses. “i really like you too, [★],” he said, voice low and rough. “an embarrassing amount.”

“yeah?” you breathed. “so are you going to kiss me, or . . do i have to beg?”

his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “well, um. i-i’ve never really done anything like that before,” he admitted with an awkward chuckle. “i don’t even know how i’ve gotten this far.”

“that’s okay,” you assured him, placing a hand on his knee and feeling him tense slightly under your touch. “we can take it slow, figure it out together. m’ not exactly an expert either.”

he nodded, looking relieved and grateful for your understanding. emboldened, you leaned in, giving him time to pull away. spoiler alert, he didn’t. his eyes just fluttered closed as you brushed your lips softly over his. they were warm and smooth, molding sweetly to your own. after a moment of stillness, he started to move his mouth tentatively against yours.

you let him set the pace, parting your lips in silent invitation. his tongue shyly traced the seam of your mouth and you opened for him on a sigh. he licked inside carefully, exploring you with gentle curiosity that made warmth bloom through your veins. you stroked your tongue along his, encouraging, and felt him shudder against you.

slowly, you sank back into your mountain of pillows, pulling him down with you. he settled over you carefully, a pleasant weight, strong and solid in all the right places. your fingers tangled in his dark hair as the kisses deepened, wetter, hotter. his own hands skimmed down your sides to settle on your hips, squeezing gently as he rocked subtly against you.

when you finally broke apart, you were both flushed and breathing unsteadily. “is this okay?” you checked, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “we can stop anytime if you’re uncomfortable.”

he shook his head immediately, eyes dark and intense behind his slightly fogged glasses. “no, i don’t wanna’ stop. i want you so bad, [★]. i’m just nervous i’ll do something wrong.”

your heart melted. “you won’t, satoru,” you promised. “we’ll go slow, i’ll show you. s’ all a process, ‘kay? jus’ do what feels good.”

he nodded, some of the tension easing from his frame. you pulled him back down for another kiss, lush and lingering. as your mouths moved together, you fumbled for the hem of his shirt, rucking it up his back. he broke away just long enough for you to pull it over his head and toss it aside before his lips found yours again.

your hands roamed his bared torso greedily, marveling at the lean muscle, the heat of his skin. gojo might look like a lanky nerd at first glance, but his body told a completely different story. you wanted to map every ridge and plane with your hands and mouth, discover all the secret places that would make him shake and gasp and moan. he shivered as your fingers skimmed over his ribs, his stomach, thumbs just brushing his nipples.

he made a hungry sound into your mouth when you lingered there, circling the tender buds questioningly. taking the hint, you tweaked them gently, rolling the sensitive flesh between your fingers. he jolted against you as if electrified, a moan vibrating in his chest.

“y’like that,” you guessed, doing it again and feeling his hips stutter forward helplessly into the cradle of your thighs.

“y-yeah,” he breathed, sounding almost surprised himself. “it feels really good.”

spurred on by his responsiveness, you devoted yourself to taking him apart, finding all the places that made him twitch and pant and whimper so sweetly. you kissed across his collarbones, scraped your teeth over his pulse point, soothed the sting with your tongue. you felt dizzy with him, drunk on the salt of his skin, his scent of clean and arousal, the incoherent sounds he made under your touch.

before long he was squirming restlessly against you, hard and insistent against your hip. “please,” he mumbled into your hair. “i need . .”

“what do you need?” you coaxed, nipping at his jaw. “tell me.”

he shuddered, hands flexing on your hips as he ground subtly against you. “i need — fuck, i need to touch you. need you to touch me. god, [★], i don’t know, i just . . please?”

“shhh, don’t stress, honey,” you soothed even as heat surged through you at his breathless plea. “let me take care of you.”

hooking a leg around his waist, you flipped your positions in one smooth motion, straddling his hips. he gazed up at you with something like awe, eyes wide and dark, lips kiss-swollen. your heart tripped over itself at the picture he made, wrecked and wanting in your rumpled sheets. quickly, before you could lose your nerve, you stripped off your own top and unhooked your bra, baring yourself to his heated stare. his hands came up immediately to cup your breasts, palming the soft weight greedily before catching your nipples between his fingers.

“aah!” you gasped, arching into the touch as sparks shot down your spine to throb between your legs. your hips rolled down against his, your clothed sexes grinding together deliciously. “y-yes, gojo, jus’ like that!”

emboldened by your encouragement, he explored your body just as thoroughly as you had his, broad hands and curious fingers finding all your most sensitive places. you were panting and mewling by the time he reached the button of your skirt with a questioning glance.

“please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips to help him shimmy the fabric down your legs. your panties quickly followed, leaving you bare to his burning gaze. and slowly, almost reverently, he reached out to touch — he couldn’t help it, fingertips skimming up your inner thighs. you shivered and parted them further in silent invitation. his eyes locked on yours as he carefully traced your slick folds, circling your aching entrance before moving up to swirl over your clit.

“show me how you like it?” he rasped, voice low and rough with arousal.

biting back a whimper, you covered his hand with your own, directing his movements. “like this,” you instructed breathlessly, guiding his fingers in tight circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves. “a little firmer, mmm . .”

he followed your lead perfectly, rubbing and stroking until your thighs were quaking and you were moaning brokenly. it felt good, so good, but you needed more. “inside,” you pleaded when coherent thought became difficult. “gojo, please, put one inside . .” he swore under his breath at your words but quickly obeyed, carefully sinking one long finger into your fluttering heat. you cried out sharply at the intimate penetration, hips canting down to take him deeper. he watched your face avidly as he started to pump in and out, curling and twisting gently as he went.

“m-more,” you gasped, head thrown back as he found a particularly sensitive spot. “another, toru, i can take it.”

he groaned like he was the one being pleasured as he pushed a second finger in alongside the first, stretching you so exquisitely. he scissored gently, working you open, before crooking them just right to rub firmly against your g-spot.

you collapsed forward onto his chest with a fractured moan, fingers scrabbling at his heaving shoulders as he massaged that magic button with devastating accuracy. you knew you could easily come just like this, spitted on his clever fingers, but it wasn't what you wanted. not for your first time together.

“gojo,” you panted, catching his wrist to still his movements. “i wan’ you inside . .”

his eyes widened with understanding and he swallowed audibly. “a-are you sure?” he asked hoarsely even as his hips twitched up against yours eagerly.

“i’ve never been more sure of anything,” you said fiercely, holding his gaze so he could read the sincerity there. “i wan’ you, all of you. please.”

he nodded jerkily. “i want you too,” he said, voice low and intent. "so much, you have no idea.”

then he was kissing you again, hot and urgent, his tongue delving deep as large hands palmed your ass, rocking you against his straining erection. you moaned into his mouth, already imagining how he would feel inside you, stretching and filling you so perfectly.

together, you managed to wrestle him out of his jeans and underwear, your focus narrowing to the breathtaking sight of him laid bare beneath you. all long limbs and lean muscle, skin flushed with arousal, cock thick and hard against his taut stomach. he was beautiful, exquisite, unreal.

“let me . . .” you murmured almost to yourself as you shifted down his body, wanting to taste, to tease. but he caught your shoulders, stopping you.

“next time,” he said with a slightly shy smile at odds with the high color in his cheeks, the stark arousal in his gaze. “i don’t think i’d last right now and i really, really want to be inside you when i cum. if-if that’s okay.”

oh, that was more than okay. it was basically the hottest thing you'd ever heard. “definitely okay,”you confirmed a little breathlessly, reaching for the condom you’d stashed optimistically in your nightstand.

with trembling hands, you opened the packet and rolled the latex down his rigid length. he twitched in your grip when you gave him a few strokes, thumb swirling through the bead of moisture at his tip. “fuck,” he choked out, head tipping back. “you gotta stop or i'll . .”

“i know, baby. i know,” you soothed, moving to straddle his hips once more. your eyes locked as you notched him at your entrance, his hands coming up to grip your hips almost hard enough to bruise. “ready?” at his jerky nod, you sank down slowly, taking him inch by careful inch. he stretched you exquisitely, walls fluttering to accommodate his girth. when your hips met his, you were both panting, pulses racing, skin flushed with pleasure-pain.

“god,” he choked out after a long moment, sounding absolutely wrecked. “you feel incredible. so fucking tight.”

you clenched around him experimentally, walls hugging him ever so sweetly, and he bucked up into you with a low groan. “gojo,” you gasped, nails digging into his chest. “you’re so deep, so big . .”

“am i hurting you?” he asked, brow creased with concern even as he visibly struggled to keep still.

“n-no,” you assured him. “no s’ perfect, you feel fucking perfect. jus’ . . go slow. lemme’ adjust.”

he did, rocking into you with shallow little thrusts that gradually deepened as you relaxed around him. soon you were moving together, finding a rhythm, the drag of him in and out sparking pleasure along every nerve ending. you leaned down to kiss him messily, all tongue and panted breaths as your hips rolled and ground in tandem.

“i’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted between kisses, hands roaming restlessly over your back, your breasts, your ass. “wanted you. still can’t believe this is real.”

“s’ real,” you promised breathlessly, rising and falling faster on his cock as the tension coiled tighter in your core. “i’m real and i’m yours, gojo, all yours . .”

he made a rough sound, fingers digging into your hips as he started thrusting up harder, hitting that perfect spot inside you on every stroke. “mine,” he agreed, voice gravelly and low, sending shivers down your spine. “my [★], fuck, you’re absolutely perfect . .”

you could only moan in response, lost to the sensation of him moving inside you, hitting you so deep, stoking the fire in your belly to an inferno. your thighs burned, sweat blooming on your skin as you chased your peak, so close, almost . .

gojo was close too, you could tell by the telltale twitch and throb of him inside you, his thrusts going erratic. “m’ gonna’ cum,” he warned hoarsely, fingers scrabbling at your hips. “m’ gonna’ cum, m’ gonna’ cum . . i-i can’t h-hold —”

“yes - yes, yes, yes,” you gasped, grinding down hard, fingers flying over your clit. “cum in me satoru, wanna feel you, baby . .”

his hands grip your ass cheeks, spreading them apart before giving you two more sharp thrusts, leaving him cumming with a guttural moan of your name, pulsing hot inside you as you clenched and rippled around him. the feeling of him throbbing and spilling in you was enough to tip you over the edge, a cry tearing from your throat as you shattered around him, cumming so hard you saw white.

you collapsed onto his chest as aftershocks rolled through you, his hips still rocking shallowly into yours, drawing out your mutual pleasure. for a minute, you just panted together, sweat cooling on your skin, pulses calming. you felt him soften up and slip out of you and winced a little at the loss, a tender ache between your thighs. you’d have beard burn too, you just knew it. but it had been more than worth it.

satoru’s hands continued to stroke your back, your hair, as if he was reluctant to let go. you felt the same, luxuriating in his warmth, his scent, the sound of his heartbeat thumping steadily beneath your ear. you never wanted to move.

eventually though, he shifted beneath you and you lifted your head to find him gazing at you with soft, wondering eyes. “hey,” he said quietly, brushing your now-wild hair back from your face. “so, are we like, y’know . .”

“dating?” you finished, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. “yes, but only if you want that.”

his answering smile was like the sun coming out. “y-yeah, yeah. i want that. i’ve always wanted that.” he leaned up to kiss you slow and deep, tongue delving languorously into your mouth. “thank you. for showing me. for everything.”

“right back at you,” you murmured against his lips, heart so full it felt like it might burst. “m’ glad i got the chance.”

“me too.” he nuzzled his nose against yours sweetly. “so . . whaddo’ you wanna’ do now?”

you pulled back slightly to search his face, seeing both hope and trepidation there. “well, i was thinking . . maybe we could cuddle for a lil’ while longer. then, i dunno’, raid the flooded kitchen for snacks. come back up here n’ skip the party . . we could watch a movie? kinda jus’ . . see where it goes.”

relief and happiness shone from his eyes. “i’d really like that. a lot.”

“good.” you pecked his lips once more before settling back onto his chest, ear pressed over his heart. “s’ a date then.” you knew you’d have to leave this little bubble eventually, face the real world and whatever challenges it might bring. but right now, you didn’t care about any of that. right now, you had gojo, warm and solid beneath you, his fingers laced gently through your hair as exhaustion started to pull you under. you had this perfect moment, and the promise of more to come.

as you drifted off, lulled by his heartbeat and even breathing, a small smirk played about your lips.

damn, guess the rumors were true.

nerds really did just do it better.

★ SUGUGASM 2024 | please don’t copy, translate or share my work on other platforms without my consent.

[swordgrace]

𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

༺ aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

synopsis: in aemond targaryen’s eyes, you have far exceeded anything that he could’ve imagined. during a moment of solace, you indulge in the prince’s growing affections.

———————————————————————————

༺ FORMAT: one-shot — not requested.

༺ WORD COUNT: 7.1K.

༺ WARNINGS: SMUT, oral sex (f!receiving), p in v sex (unprotected), multiple positions, biting, scratching, switch!aemond, fingering (f!receiving), groping, lots of kissing, hair pulling, vulnerable aemond, melancholy aftercare, slight power imbalance, possessive aemond, talk of insecurities, begging, etc.

༺ AUTHOR’S NOTE: finally ,,, an aemond fic! I am currently looking for requests for this account, and hopefully this is a good showcase in terms of getting people interested! This was so fun to write and helped me get into the Aemond headspace, I so look forward to sharing more of my work with all of you!

𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐊 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 the skies over King’s Landing, bringing with it a sense of wariness and discomfort. Rumors and whispers grew of an approaching war between Rhaenyra Targaryen and King Aegon Targaryen — a war between kin that would surely plunge the realm into a great darkness.

Bloodshed and the mere thought of violence caused you to shiver, goosebumps prickling along the length of your spine. The evening was a touch colder, the air bitter and misty with the first inklings of a nighttime deluge. Raindrops smashed into the courtyard, against the castle walls in a steady sheet.

Sworn to serve Lady Alicent Hightower, the dowager Queen, she had dismissed you quite suddenly, citing that she preferred to be left alone this evening. You found it intriguing that Ser Criston Cole so vigilantly guarded the former Queen’s chambers with wandering eyes, but it was none of your business.

The halls of the Red Keep were warm with the glow of torchlight amongst the illumination of the moon, clouds bringing down rain and the low rumble of thunder. You were prepared to make the venture down to the Servant’s Quarters, until you were stopped by a guard somewhere down the corridor.

“My Lady,” One of the Kingsguard, Ser Cargyll, addressed you nobly, even if you were just a handmaiden. “The Prince Aemond is searching for you. He is requesting your presence.”

Prince Aemond — a name not unfamiliar to you.

You felt the subtle hitch within the depths of your throat at the mention of Aemond Targaryen. The Prince was rather acquainted with you, in ways that many would consider uncouth and sinful, but it was a budding relationship. If anything, you found him to be a being of mystique and repression, in your experience.

Under the guise of mere duty, you nodded, curtsying before Ser Cargyll. “Thank you, Ser. I will make my way to his chambers.” You kept your voice hushed, ensuring an air of respect for those who slumbered within the Keep’s walls.

Carrying bundles of fresh linens within your arms, you made your way to the Prince’s quarters, a path that you were somewhat familiar with. Your encounters with Aemond weren’t often, but whenever they did occur, it filled you with a certain thrill and exhilaration. You never imagined yourself to be desirable, the object of a Prince’s infatuations, yet here you were.

A sharp clap of thunder caused you to gasp, nearly losing your footing as you traversed through the darkened corridors, passing by the occasional fellow servant or patrolling knight. Something about this night felt unusual — as if there was an ominous presence lingering around the corner.

Thunderstorms had a horrible habit of making you incredibly paranoid — tonight was no different, it seemed. With a deliberate pace, you ascended the grand flight of steps toward Aemond’s chambers, noticing the lack of protection outside. The Prince wasn’t fond of being hovered over, a notion that you could understand.

The set of ornate, mahogany doors were equipped with iron knobs fashioned into the heads of dragons — quite fitting, considering his heritage. You knocked thrice, stepping back as you waited for the Prince himself, or his summons.

With bated breath, you wrung your digits into the silk and linens clutched within your arms, awaiting the Prince to allow you inside. The suspense was nearly unbearable — sometimes he called you inside, and other times, he greeted you himself with a sly curl of his mouth and that glittering, violet eye of his.

To your delight, the door creaked open, groaning in protest as Aemond stood within the gap, regal and svelte in his leather tunic and fine regalia. His hand perched along the edge of the door, lips tilting into that familiar countenance of his — cunning yet tinged with faint hints of amusement.

“My Lady,” Aemond’s voice was a lull, like the purr of a great cat as he beckoned you inside. He cared little for prying eyes, allowing you to step into the warmth of his open chambers before he latched the door behind him. “You came rather swiftly.” He stated — a mere observation, but it was most accurate.

“Is this not an urgent matter?” To keep appearances, you sometimes asked redundant questions — but Aemond enjoyed them nonetheless. He let out a brief hum, violet hue raking over you as it had several times before. There was something reverent there, a silent appreciation that happened to scream if someone looked close enough.

With a brief hum of amusement, Aemond ogled you, head canting slightly to one side. Blackfyre sat soundly atop his hip, bound in the finest sheath and belt that hung atop his narrow waist. “I suppose not,” He reached out, gently swiping his fingers across your jaw. “I merely wanted to see you.”

Warmth fluttered within your breast, spreading like ivy across the rest of your body. The bulk of the heat settled within your features as you struggled to maintain your composure. “And I you, my Prince.” It was enough to make Aemond’s stare sparkle. “Any word on what will come of the growing conflict?”

Aemond stepped toward the large table, scattered in maps and scrolls, the largest of it being a cartographic description of Westeros. Coins were scattered atop it, meant to resemble garrisons of their forces. “Not yet.” He replied, circling the table before he looked at you. “It is hard to plan for a war that you’ve no counsel in.”

From what Aemond had told you during previous trysts, he was not on the small council — and his brother, the King, seemed more content on drinking and letting others run his kingdom for him. A piece of Aemond spited Aegon for this, for his lack of propriety and sense of duty.

The Prince’s woes weren’t unfamiliar to you. In fact, he had placed his head within your lap and recounted the multitude of misfortunes that had befallen him on many occasions before he had any desire to touch you. Perhaps it was this gesture that had given your budding relationship such a firm foundation.

War was on the horizon, and Aegon hadn’t the slightest clue of what to do — which left Aemond to stew and plot away, to strategize where there wasn’t any inkling of it. It would always fall upon him, the more responsible sibling.

You trailed after him, curious to see such a large map of the continent. If anything, you were more perplexed by the different kingdoms and sigils on coins than the war. “You mean to strategize without the King?” You inquired, noticing the scoff that emerged from Aemond.

“It is nothing new. I only wish to serve the King and my house.” He replied, expression becoming pensive before he sank down into the cushioned armchair, the one placed before his sea of maps and books. Candles danced atop the table, listless and bright.

Aemond was a learned individual, with a thirst for books and tomes, alongside the blade. You admired his desire for more, his desire for knowledge. There was a stark duality to Aemond that you had caught glimpses of during the course of your endeavors — from sharp and cold, like steel, to a hint of warmth.

The Prince’s chambers were spacious, surrounded by an ocean of quiet, with a high terrace and an open wall. You watched as the rain fell, providing a gentle ambiance to your surroundings. A flash of lightning split the sky, and the thunderous gloom of the night raged on.

With a soft exhale, you approached the terrace, lined in a thick bannister and a row of columns. If you extended your hand out far enough, you could catch the rain, feeling the chill of the droplets glide across your palm. It was soothing, enough to ease the heat that had made permanent residence within your skin.

In silent rapture, Aemond watched you carefully, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The glow of moonlight framed your features in silver, accompanied by the twinge of orange — it made you look like a goddess, a beauty incarnate standing before him. His fingers tensed into the arm of his chair, desire beginning to fester inside of him.

Initially, he thought little of you — the lowborn girl that dutifully served his mother, yet the night you’d found him strewn about in his quarters, wounded and wistful, he’d changed his mind. Aemond fell swiftly, and he fell hard — many nights were spent with you in his bed, his head within your lap. It inevitably transformed into desire and the first blossoming of affection.

“Thunderstorms used to terrify me as a child,” You broke the silence, recoiling until your palm was pressed close to your chest. “Now, they seem to make everything ominous, as if there is a lingering dread.” You let out a chuckle, seemingly embarrassed. “It isn’t much different than being afraid.”

Aemond tucked a hand beneath his chin, leaning some of his weight against it as he listened to you. “What do you fear, my Lady?” He questioned, as if attempting to pick you apart, crawl beneath your flesh. You enticed him, evoked a sense of intrigue that he seldom felt in the presence of noble women.

A rather heavy question, but you decided to answer honestly, depositing the stack of linens onto the lounge in front of you. “Being locked away in a cage, perhaps the darkness.” You trailed off. “War.” You grimaced, gaze flickering toward the map on his table yet again.

You always feared war more than anything — it always brought worse things with it. Bloodshed, famine, death, the feeling of no sanctuary or peace.

With a soft huff, Aemond’s violet eye flickered away from you and to his map, surveying his growing plan for any imperfections. He remained quiet for a moment, and decided that he had little desire to talk to you on the topic of war — not when there were plenty of other things he could do.

“War is inevitable, like so many other things in life,” Aemond’s voice carried an indiscernible edge to it. After a brief pause, he continued. “I would keep you safe.” Sometimes, you had difficulty detecting sincerity with the Prince, but you could see it now, even if it was subtle.

If it was meant to be a flattering or sentimental statement, it happened to work, prompting you to dip your head. Sheepishness settled into your features, causing you to tether your hands together. “You honor me, my Prince. I did not know that the life of a handmaiden meant something to you.”

At last, his head angled toward you, lilac hue dancing with light as he leaned back within his chair, the wood groaning in protest. “Come here.” He waved you forward with a flick of his fingers, desiring to feel your warmth, be close to you. Aemond’s lust for you was subtle, but when it sparked to life, it burned like a dragon’s fire.

Your heartbeat fluttered like the wings of a bird, stirring beneath your breast as you obeyed the Prince’s command. Stepping closer, you felt Aemond’s hand trace the swell of your hip, coaxing you into his lap. Without a word, he rested his cheek against your sternum, feeling your fingers rake through his silken tresses.

“Your life is worth a great deal.” Aemond stated, breath fanning out across your collarbone. The Prince savored the sensation of your soft flesh beneath him, heart loud enough to ring within his ears as he pressed close to your chest. Wordlessly, he planted a kiss against the column of your throat.

A shiver rolled down your spine, a sensation that left you aching for more. You never imagined yourself becoming the object of the Prince’s affections, enough for him to state that your life had meaning beyond the station of a servant. “Then it is a mutual feeling.” You uttered, nails lightly scraping against the nape of his neck.

Aemond had often been deprived of affection — even in his dealings with whores, it was originally Aegon’s design, his will enforced. There was no shared connection with a woman seeking coin and a boy, barely thirteen. He preferred you above all else, warm and tender within his grasp, with no desire to use him to further your station.

He used to believe that the only solace he could find was in himself — until he began seeking you out.

What originally began as an arrangement of convenience, purely lust and instinct, had now spiraled into something more. He shared his past with you, treated you to the inner machinations of his splintered family, and in rare instances, became quite vulnerable. Sentiments be damned, Aemond was beginning to feel affectionate towards you.

The growing connection he shared with you, albeit unorthodox and unexpected, outweighed any previous experience he had. You were his — a precious creature that he intended on savoring forever, if he could. Not many would approve of his hunger for a lowborn girl, but Aemond cared little for it.

Above all, known or unknown, he wanted your love.

Aemond’s lilac eye drifted to your visage, drinking you in as he had many times before. The way you cradled his skull within your hand, your other palm planted firmly against his chest — it was intoxicating. He sank closer, finding comfort in your warmth.

He listened to your heart — the way it excitedly galloped for him, pounded within his ear like the deep lull of a drum. The Prince kissed your collarbone, shifting some of your robes away to reveal the soft expanse of your skin. Perhaps, he hadn’t made it known, but you belonged to him — it would stay that way.

A slight chill caused you to press closer, seeking the warmth of the Dragon Prince. Rain continued to pour outside, with thunder rattling the black, cloudy skies, as powerful as a dragon’s cry. Your hand found his shoulder, digits gently massaging into the broad, sinewy muscle of his clothed shoulder.

The sharp ridge of his nose brushed along your neck, lips following suit as he planted several deliberate kisses against your jugular; underneath your jaw. “Cold?” Aemond inquired, able to feel the icy bite of your flesh as it brushed against his. He felt you shudder — but he wondered if that was from something else.

“Slightly, my Prince.” You confessed, though your body’s physical responses were from his lips, in-tandem with the misty chill from the thunderstorm. The flicker of candlelight danced across his features — narrow and defined, beautiful beyond comparison.

“Hm,” Aemond hummed, dragging his lips around the curve of your jawline, pressing another kiss beneath your ear. His scent filled your nose — spiced herbs, smoke and leather, intermingled with that of a dragon. “Shall I remedy this misfortune?” He uttered, his voice crackling with desire.

He nearly smirked at the sound of your breath hitching within your throat — a delicious response to his shameless flirtation. Aemond’s hand crawled along the length of your leg, grabbing at the end of your robes before slipping underneath. His narrow digits danced along your calf, before finding the pliant meat of your thigh.

“Aemond,” You whispered, shifting within his lap as the Prince continued to kiss your neck. The garment you wore was shoddy and somewhat ill-fitting, and you longed to have it removed. You pressed a kiss against his brow, the one that had the beginnings of a scar. “Please.”

The sensation of your lips against his scar nearly drove him into a frenzy — it did the last time you coupled. Aemond let out a brief huff, detaching his mouth from your throat as he hungrily sought your lips. The kiss was overflowing with desire, his hand slithering against your inner thigh.

His slender digits found the apex between your thighs, swiping over the slick heat of your cunt. It was feather-light and tantalizing, meant to make you squirm, a promise of more to come throughout your night together. You whimpered, feeling his thumb ghost around your clit, splitting past your folds.

You reciprocated the kiss with a flurry of passion, tilting your hips forward toward Aemond’s hand. The playful curve of his mouth was tangible as you kissed him again, reaching to cup his face. The pad of your thumb traced along his cheekbone, feeling his teeth graze along your lower lip.

Aemond shivered beneath your palm, finding the sensation of it to be foreign, yet comforting all the same. He hadn’t removed his eyepatch before, during your previous trysts — the thought of you seeing it somewhat unnerved him. It was often used for intimidation, to terrify others into subservience, but it wasn’t like that with you.

As you pulled your head back just slightly, you pressed a tender kiss against Aemond’s jaw, and then against his cheek — another secured itself atop his eyepatch. You felt the Prince’s breath hitch, a subtle noise that left you wanting more.

His hand stilled between your legs, the other holding just underneath your breast. “It would be unwise to remove it.” Aemond uttered, voice as smooth as silk, and just as tantalizing. There was something forlorn about him, as if he were afraid of you glimpsing upon his face.

“I would never insist upon it, Aemond. Just know that I would never pass judgment,” You replied, tucking several strands of pale, silky hair aside. “You are still just as handsome, just as perfect.” Your soft-spoken reassurance made him flustered, yet he was unwilling to reveal that side of himself.

Admittedly, he considered taking it off then, but he decided against it, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist. Your hand drifted to the front of his tunic, lined in an impressive array of metallic buttons, bearing the Targaryen sigil. Aemond found your sentiments to be sweet — just like the rest of you.

Wordlessly, the one-eyed Prince coaxed you to your feet, bringing you toward the roaring hearth, beside the light of a crackling fire. The ground beneath you was covered in the layered pelts of various game, from stags to the thick hide of a bear, cushioned enough to provide a safe landing for the both of you.

Aemond towered over you, svelte and broad-shouldered, hand coming to cup your chin as he kissed you. It was slow and unusually sweet, but much to your disappointment, it was short-lived. His hands moved to the front of your robes, tugging at the rugged laces to loosen the bodice.

He watched you hawkishly, enraptured as the both of you maneuvered the shoddy fabric aside. You pulled it over your head, tossing the garment somewhere behind you. It landed on the stone floor with an unceremonious thud, leaving you bare before the Prince.

It was an exchange, one that Aemond silently complied with as he peeled aside his own tunic, lips twitching into a smirk as you pushed away the leather and fine linen of his undershirt. He was all sinewy muscle and narrow limbs, with a pale musculature that seemed to glow whenever the light touched it.

The both of you gazed at one another, your breathing significantly more labored than his own. Your excitement was palpable, the anticipation stirring within your stomach as arousal pooled between your legs. Aemond hungrily consumed your mouth in a blistering kiss, hands grabbing at your hips and chest.

You reached for his shoulders, arms tossing themselves around the back of his neck, digits raking through his hair. Aemond’s tongue greedily slipped past your parted lips, allowing you to taste him. A low hum of approval rumbled within his throat as you submitted to him, chest blossoming with warmth.

It was all tongue and teeth and want — a dance that finally gave way to carnal desire and primitive instincts. You felt Aemond’s hand grope at your haunch, feeling your pliant flesh as he nipped at your lower lip. The flame of desire glistened within his lilac hue.

“Lie down,” Aemond uttered, his voice becoming a touch gravelly, saturated with lust. He watched as you obeyed, sinking down onto the furs with a flustered expression. He stood over you, reveling in the sight of your body, kissed by fire, legs pulled up at the knee. “You are perfect.”

Perfect — you shuddered, stomach churning with liquid heat as you propped yourself back upon your elbows, palms idly running across the soft furs. Aemond sank down, pressing a hot, needy kiss to your lips before he knelt between your thighs, mouth hungrily returning to your throat.

“Aemond,” You moaned, the noise soft and simpering as he assaulted your neck in passionate kisses. Teeth and tongue worked together, leaving behind a handful of marks, some glaringly obvious. He continued his descent, kissing your collarbone, and then your breast. “Please keep going.” A breathy whine left you, then.

His lips twitched into a smirk as he planted a series of hot kisses around your breast, the other palm preoccupied with groping and kneading into the soft flesh there. Aemond felt your body arch into him, knees squeezing at his narrow hips.

With a stroke of his tongue, the Prince began to suck at the peak of your breast, nose brushing along your sternum. The heat from the flame crawled across your body, leaving you feverishly hot. Aemond’s actions did little to soothe it, igniting the fire within your belly.

Your hands flew toward his crown of pale tresses, digits digging in toward the nape of his neck. The furs brushed against your back as you reclined, stealing glimpses at Aemond, who methodically and reverently worked his way along your body.

“Ao sytilībagon naejot nyke,” Aemond purred, sinking his teeth into the sensitive flesh below your breast, as if to ensure his point was made. That singular lilac hue caught your heady gaze, prompting him to continue his descent. He abandoned your breast with a lasting kiss, mouth traveling along your stomach and hips. “Ñuhon.”

Listening to Aemond’s enchanting High Valyrian made you shudder, allowing it to encompass you. His voice was nothing more than a lascivious purr, meant to entice and tempt you — you were beyond elated to oblige. You watched with doe-like eyes as Aemond kissed your waist, and then your thighs.

His incendiary stare never faltered, and as he pushed his shoulders between your legs, he held it throughout. Aemond listened to the delicious hitch within your throat, the way you preemptively curled your nails into his shoulders — it was intoxicating.

In an unexpected maneuver, Aemond gingerly abandoned the fine leather of his eyepatch, revealing the glistening, sapphire eye, marred-over with an age-old scar. You were dazzled, perplexed by his beauty and the vibrant gleam of the jewel that was permanently socketed into his eye.

As a display of reassurance, your fingers crept from his shoulder to his face, gingerly tracing around his countenance, from eyebrow to cheekbone. Aemond’s subtle exhale of delight signaled his approval, and without warning, he raked his tongue across your cunt.

Your lips fell apart, unable to smother the pleasured whine that escaped you. His tongue raked hot embers across your aching core, delivering a series of deliberate strokes that were sure to make you squirm. Aemond preferred to savor you, consuming every drop of your nectar as if it were the finest of wines.

Those dextrous, spindly hands of his found the pliant flesh of your thighs, hooking underneath to provide a place of rest for your legs. He squeezed slightly, signaling his presence there as he pressed forward. His mouth greedily lapped at your cunt, gliding from the hood of your clit to your entrance.

“Aemond!” A wanton moan tore past your lips, back beginning to arch into his ministrations. The Prince slowed, sharp nose brushing against your mouth as he dipped forward, tongue briefly pushing inside of you. The subtle sensation made you whine, nails dragging themselves across his shoulder.

You were perfect — flesh velveteen beneath his palms, physique begging for more, your pleasure coming to fruition. You were at his mercy, but fortunately, Aemond was feeling most gracious this evening. The echo of the thunderstorm shook the walls a time or two, but it all became atmospheric, simply background noise.

With one hand fisted within his platinum tresses, the other scratched haplessly at his shoulder, nails leaving behind reddish crescents as he flicked his tongue across your clit. The sensation was fleeting, but he sought to drag it out, lips greedily pursing around the pearl of your cunt.

Another breathy moan left you, stomach pooling with a rush of molten heat. It oozed between your legs as your arousal fell upon the Prince’s tongue, much to his delight. He did not waste a drop, mouth traveling wherever he pleased, lapping at every inch of your cunt.

His throat echoed with a low growl, hands grabbing at your thighs. He traced his tongue around your clit, teasing you with feather-light jolts of bliss. You let out a whine, occasionally writhing atop the furs, head lolled back in a display of pure ecstasy.

Aemond’s subtle groan of delight reverberated throughout him whenever you tugged on his tresses, forcing him further into the warm embrace between your thighs. He pressed a string of kisses along your clit, as if he were worshiping you. He enjoyed your greed — if anything, he wanted to indulge you.

The warm lick of the hearth danced across your flesh, seeping into your very bones. Perspiration dotted your brow, jaw tight as Aemond ogled you from between your legs, like a svelte predator, poised for the kill. “You’re perfect, Aemond.” You exhaled, noticing the subtle twinkle in his lilac eye.

That familiar cheshire smirk of his returned; your sweetly-spoken compliments and shower of praise clearly satiated Aemond. He kissed your thigh, breath hot as it fanned across your aching core. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” His voice was cajoling, playful as he nipped at your hip.

You squirmed, becoming desperate for a release, one that your Prince seemed to dangle before your eyes like a carrot on a stick. “Please,” You moaned, digits tightening within his tresses, a subtle signal to continue. “Please, Aemond!” With such an urgent plea from a sweet mouth, Aemond couldn’t resist you.

It seemed that begging would get you places — Aemond thoroughly savored every second of it. Your lust mirrored his own, perhaps subdued, but it was a raging desire nonetheless. He placed another string of kisses against your inner thighs, gazing at you with an incendiary fondness.

Sluggishly, he descended to your cunt once more, dragging the flat of his tongue along your slit in one broad stroke. With a shiver, your hips rolled forward, eased into submission by Aemond’s hands, which happened to lock you into place as he swarmed forward.

He drank you in, tongue greedily flicking between your weeping core and clit, until he began to apply that same pressure as before. His thin lips pursed around the pearl of your cunt, suckling on the clutch of sensitive nerves until it drove you mad, back arching from the furs.

By the Seven, the things Aemond did to you.

There was a fervor in his ministrations, a ravenous hunger that threatened to tear you asunder. His tongue lapped at your core, interchanging with those brief moments of his lips latched around your clit. You whimpered, thighs pressing on either side of his head.

“Aemond,” You sighed with passion, fisting his silky tresses until you tugged him closer, burying his face within the warmth of your cunt. Aemond didn’t seem to mind, treating you with another barrage of suckling and kisses until you were spent. “Fuck.”

Your unholy mouth made Aemond shudder, groping at your thighs as he brought you to climax. Your release was bittersweet upon his tongue, the most sinful taste imaginable — yet he never claimed to be a pious man. He worked tirelessly to clean you up, cock aching within the confines of his leather trousers.

As you rode the pleasurable high of your release, your body unfurled, the tension within your stomach coming to a halt. A molten bliss wept between your legs, soothed by the cool lick of Aemond’s tongue. Your tryst was far from finished — you had more left to give.

In a coiled, poised fashion, Aemond moved from between your legs, prepared to untie the strings of his trousers and sink himself into you, but you stopped him, placing your palms against the plane of his chest. His musculature was lean and narrow, almost spider-like.

Aemond did not make a sound, watching as you rocked up onto your knees, thighs quivering as you eased him down onto his back — the same position you had been trapped in moments prior. He was enraptured, lilac eye glued to you as if you were heaven sent, a goddess coming to claim him for yourself.

You tossed one leg over him, thighs straddling those spindly hips of his, palms dragging across his shoulders, his chest, his abdomen — wherever you could reach. Aemond shivered beneath the intensity of your embrace, lips quirked into the ghost of a smirk, a look of perplexity to mask his desire to submit to you.

“Tell me you want this,” You whispered, nails lightly raking themselves toward his breeches, not daring to go any further until Aemond offered you his consent on the matter. He was often on top of you, domineering and incredibly energetic, but this was different — for him, and for you. “Say the word and you can have me elsewhere.”

The subtle bob of his throat wasn’t easy to spot, masked by shadow, one half of his countenance basked in the glow of the firelight. His sparkling sapphire gazed at you for an eternity, the other drifting across your supple physique, seated atop him as if you’d mounted a stallion.

His hands came to rest atop your thighs, splayed out, possessively groping your pliant flesh. “I want you,” Aemond uttered, his voice a delicious purr, an octave full of an unrestrained lust. “In whatever way that is.” He quite enjoyed this position — he liked seeing you in all of your beauty, bared before him.

With a gentle smile, your digits began to unravel the ties of his trousers, gracing across his hip bones. It was enough to make him shudder, even if the action was barely noticeable. Together, you and Aemond removed the rest of his clothing — and there he was.

He was a beautiful creature, all lanky musculature and pale flesh, stringy and angular. Everything about him was sharp, like the edge of a blade. Aemond was charming, enchanting to you whether he realized it or not. It was enough to prompt you to lean forward, pressing a string of kisses along his collarbone.

“My Prince,” You murmured into his skin, your nose nuzzling underneath the sharp slope of his jaw. You kissed him there, listening to the hitch in his throat. Aemond hummed, lips curling into something of a perplexed line as his hands wandered about your frame, ensuring to touch and caress every curve, every part of you. “My Prince.”

Aemond turned his head, the movement precise and not at all coincidental. His lips captured yours in a feverish kiss, his cock eagerly pressing against your slick cunt. You gasped, feeling the length of it tempt you as he had several times before, but this time, he grabbed your chin, ogling you with his lilac hue.

He wanted to watch your face as you sank yourself onto him, briefly grabbing his cock in order to guide it to your aching slit. The pleasure that blossomed across your countenance was a sight to behold, and you were met with the familiar tilt of his mouth, a fire smoldering within his gaze as he bucked upwards.

His cock speared you with a suddenness, causing you to moan as you adjusted yourself, rocking up onto your knees. Aemond’s palms held your thighs, and he was more than willing to do some of the work, unwilling to let you tire yourself.

It was mesmerizing to see you on top of him like this, breasts full and lovely, softly jostling with each movement. Your flesh was velveteen, pure perfection cast in the sienna glow of the hearth. The fire was dying, but the lust between you and Aemond was far from extinguished.

Your palms fell flat atop his abdomen, finding your purchase there as you began to ride him. It was sluggish and erratic, at first — you let out a soft moan whenever Aemond moved too, using his strength to meet you halfway. His hips lurched forward, cock thrusting into your cunt several times over.

A string of wanton whines and moans escaped you in droves, feeling his grasp on your thighs tighten. He was quite enamored with you, especially like this — there was no sweeter feeling. He continued to buck up into you whenever he could, sheathing himself inside of you, possessing you from below.

Aemond’s visage contorted into one of shared satisfaction, shifting from indiscernible to pleasurable. He sat up just enough to be within reach of you, hips pushing up to meet the downward fall of your body, his cock buried deep inside of you.

“Aemond,” You exhaled, tossing your arms around his shoulders, feeling one of his hands wander from your thigh to your waist, colliding into you with a passionate fervor. The pace you set was sporadic and needy, wanton with desire as you rode him, your movements attempting to temper themselves. “Kiss me.”

That breathy plea of yours was enough to make Aemond submit, lips claiming yours again in an achingly slow, heated kiss. The feeling of your tight cunt around him, slick and warm, made him groan. He was desperate to keep a rhythmic pace, if that were even possible.

Flesh collided against flesh, and you felt Aemond’s mouth pry itself away from yours, creeping toward the column of your throat. He kissed your jugular, face buried within the hollow between your neck and shoulder. You continued your conquest, rocking up and down along his length, nails digging into his shoulder.

Aemond coaxed you backward, wanting you on your back for the final moments of your coupling. You were swift, slumped back down within the furs as the Prince seized your haunch, spreading your legs by bullying himself between them as he had before.

His thrusts became a touch rougher, chasing after a release as he began to rut into you, cock reaching the threshold as he filled your cunt. Strands of pale hair fell around his face, brow glistening with a thin layer of perspiration.

You gasped, back arching as you hitched one leg around his hips, grabbing at his biceps. Aemond’s pace intensified, turning into something carnal and primal, need outweighing sensibility. Lewd noises filled his chamber — the clash of flesh, the sound of your entangled panting and groans of ecstasy.

Wordlessly, he sought your mouth, kissing you with a blistering force that made your head spin with delirium. You reciprocated with passion, feeling his tongue split past your lips, causing your breath to hitch within your throat. Your teeth snagged across his lower lip, enough to make Aemond’s throat echo with a faint growl.

Between the tangle of teeth and tongue, bodies becoming one, you rolled your hips in-tandem with Aemond’s sharp, brutal thrusts. “Don’t stop.” You whispered, wanting him to chase after his release, feeling the pleasurable pulsations between your thighs.

Aemond let out a soft grunt, cock burying itself within you over and over again, precum slathering your insides. The sensation of your cunt around him was perfection — he wanted more of you, all of you. You felt his hand snake around your throat, cupping beneath your jaw as he squeezed just enough to make you whine.

He was relentless, pounding into you with an obvious desperation that only furthered your desire for him. You gripped his shoulders, bringing yourself as close as you could, any sliver of distance beginning to dissipate, eclipsed by conjoined bodies and shared bliss.

At last, his countenance contorted into one of complete and utter pleasure, pale brows furrowed in concentration, violet-colored eye closing for just a moment. His cock throbbed inside of you, brazenly spilling himself wherever he saw fit. He pulled out halfway through, painting your thighs in a sticky sheen of glistening seed.

With a huff of finality, Aemond kissed your jaw, removing himself from you long enough to retrieve one of the many blankets draped across the foot of his bed. You watched him in rapturous silence, the way his physique moved, sinewy muscle highlighted by the flicker of a fading fire.

You cleaned yourself up, feeling Aemond return as he draped the blanket within your lap. As the hearth began to die, the chill of his chambers became evident, thunder rattling overhead, accompanied by the onslaught of a cold deluge. He rekindled the flame, wordlessly slinking down to curl next to you.

Strewn beside the fire, Aemond’s head came to rest atop your sternum, arm draped across your midsection. You held him, kept him close — it provided a sense of vulnerability that made you truly believe that he was yours. You stroked his hair, surprised that he hadn’t asked for you to leave.

“Whenever you wish for me to depart, say the word, my Prince.” You uttered, feeling him tighten his hold upon you. Aemond gazed listlessly into the flames, lilac hue half-lidded as you continued to caress the crown of his head. He didn’t want to go anywhere.

“No,” Aemond’s command was sharp and punctuated, despite the softness of his tone, something that demanded you yield to him. “I want you here.” He uttered, shivering when your other hand traced along what expanse of his spine you could reach.

Prepared to make your vigil beside Aemond, you settled, leaning into him just as he careened into you. The silence was eerily comforting, lulled by the atmospheric backdrop of the thunderstorm. You always enjoyed the aftermath — you enjoyed holding Aemond, most of all. It made you feel cherished in a different way, one that others might not have understood.

You shifted forward, burying your lips atop the pale crown of Aemond’s skull, letting it linger beyond the boundaries of chastity. He exhaled, body fully curled against yours, half of him reclining against you, the other half left to soak in the crackling warmth of the fire.

As your digits tenderly traced the muscle of his forearm, Aemond finally broke the silence once more, happy to let you stroke his hair. “I have always been different, teased and ridiculed,” He lamented, a twinge of melancholy within his voice. “Underestimated, most of all.”

It was a rare glimpse into the window of Aemond’s being — the man that craved love and affection, longed to be thought of as important. After Storm’s End, his mother had cast her frustrations and scorn down upon him, condescending and detached.

A gentle exhale escaped him as you stroked along the angular slope of his jaw, turning his head away from the fire and toward you. You looked down upon him, this man capable of ruthlessness and cunning, and saw the threads of a shattered youth — of someone who longed to feel a tender touch.

“Those who’ve attempted to slight me have always fallen so short of the mark,” Aemond uttered, a vague reference to the Velaryon boy that he had wrongfully slaughtered. He had some regrets about that one, but he hoped that it would cement his strength — he was the rider of Vhagar, and even then, it never felt like enough. “Hm.”

He seemed incredibly comfortable like this, pressed into your warmth, his cheek nestling against your collarbone. You continued to trace along the smooth plane of his musculature, allowing your digits to finally brush underneath his scarred, sapphire eye.

“You feel cold,” You hummed, noticing the way in which he absentmindedly leaned into your palm, allowing you to fully cup his face. “You are strong, Aemond — resilient and cunning. It is not my place to speak of your family, but I’ve come to know you, and I know that you are stronger than all of them.”

Bristling underneath the sweetly-spoken purr of your praises, Aemond kept his arm draped around you, the other coming to rest underneath your breast. The pad of his thumb graced your silky flesh, and he wanted to stay like this forever, if he could.

Aemond regarded you with a forlorn intensity, one that still danced with a subtle frustration, intermingled with his growing sense of possessiveness towards you. He kissed your palm, and then placed a kiss against your chest, ear pressed to the beating swell of your heart.

“I do not feel different with you,” Aemond uttered, able to listen to the little flutter within your chest, the steady gallop of your heart. “I do not want that to change.” His tone became solemn, and you simply coaxed him closer, allowing him to use the crook of your elbow as a place to rest, fingers raking through his hair.

“It won’t change, my Prince.” Your reassurance was gentle, as saccharine as the finest honey. Aemond’s hum was one of contentment as he crawled forward, head resting against your shoulder instead, allowing him to better hold onto you just as you held him.

Silence passed between you, accompanied by the brief crackle of dried tinder atop the logs, the light of burning embers dancing before you both. He kissed your jaw again, the slope of his nose brushing around your neck as he peered towards the flames.

Again, you felt your breath hitch when Aemond held tightly to you, lifting his head just enough to gaze down upon you. Your countenance was captivating — beautiful beyond compare, awestruck of his appearance. His lilac hue flickered across your face, drinking in the doe-like look you had before he hummed.

The ghost of an indiscernible expression fluttered across his features — incredibly subtle, yet present nonetheless. “I certainly hope not.” He murmured, lips molding themselves to yours, and then to the corner of your mouth before he resumed his former position.

You kissed the top of his head once more, cradling him as you would something fragile. You knew that Aemond’s insecurities resurfaced often, but now, they seemed far more prevalent. Regardless, your affection for him wouldn’t waver — you worried that he wouldn’t feel the same for you, however.

Unbeknownst to you, Aemond already possessed you, body and soul — and that was more dangerous than any blade or any dragon.

copyright @ swordgrace / please do not post or translate my works onto other platforms.

[6gumi]

jealous little angel.

synopsis ﹒” oh mr. sunday 、you really need to work on your jealousy ! it was just a prank ! ”

pairings﹒sunday x f!reader

cw﹒ nsfw MDNI. jealous s3x 、rough ! sunday :< 、some possessive themes / tendencies 、usage of petnames ( angel-face、dove、etc ! ) 、wall s3x 、semi-public s3x 、slight breeding kink if yew squint ! ^-^ 、he rips your stockings . . hehe 、we luv possessive sunday !

note﹒hai hai ! ! decided to write for sunday . . . ooh he’s so dreamie . . . he’s such a red flag but i luv him . . . x.x hehe here’s a special taggie for a special someone ! @cubffections | reblogs are highly appreciated. if you would like to talk to me, send in rqs or thirsts, feel free to send me an ask ! — rubi ♡

this party was going to drive him to the edge. sunday can't contain his excitement as he examined his surroundings . . . the anticipation of seeing his beloved made his heart race. he knows you’re waiting for him, dressed in something that's bound to drive him wild. It's maddening, the way you tease him, playing with his emotions. he steps forward, closing the huge door softly behind him. the scent of you permeates the air, and he can't help but inhale deeply, relishing the familiar comfort it brings. sunday knew you were off talking to a few ipc members here and there, so he took his sweet time trying to find you, savouring every step.

rounding the corner, he spots you in profile, your body bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light. the sight of you in that red lace nightgown, the way your breasts sway with each step, is enough to make his cock ache. it’s an irresistible sight, and sunday moves toward you with predatory intent. but wait . . . why were you speaking with someone else? sunday’s smile faded . . . lost in the immediate shuffle of emotions as he examined the man that was way too close to you for comfort, that dopey smile on that man’s face wasn’t fooling anyone . . and he was aware of that. his vibrant gaze slowly faded away, clouding the atmosphere with nothing but tension. he clenched his fists as hard as he could, enough for his nails to draw blood to his delicate skin.

sunday really couldn’t stand it.

he couldn’t stand seeing you with someone else. even so, he knew very well you were doing this on purpose just to tease him . . . seeing you having such a great time with someone else triggered a primal protective instinct within him. the way you touched that man’s shoulder . . . those pretty doe eyes of yours staring into someone else’s eyes other than his . . . the way your breasts squeezed together when you crossed your arms, fuck. he couldn't ignore the need to discipline you when you behaved like this, and he knew he had to put you in your place.

with a smooth, fluid motion, he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you away from the party, away from your new little friend you made and any distractions. “huh . . . ? sunday?—“

“not another word from you, my love.” sunday tried to act firm . . yet he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping more beats than one at the sight of your cleavage in that god-forbidden revealing dress, the memory of how they felt in his hands coming back to him in a rush. sunday swallows thickly, his gaze locked on your exposed cleavage. he can almost smell your arousal now, faint but undeniable. "what were you thinking? were you trying to seduce that fool?“ he was moving closer. He can't resist the temptation, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek . . . his thumb pressing against your lower lip.

"you know I can't resist you, and you know i can’t stand it when you’re all dolled up talking to someone else but me. have you learnt nothing from the punishments i’ve given you? is that it?” a devilish glint sparkles in his eyes, promising an evening full of sin and pleasure. who knew such an angel like him would have eyes this dangerous. sunday leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "you belong to me . . ." he whispers, taking in the scent of your fragrance, “. . . or have you forgotten that?”

you couldn’t help but shiver against his body, you wanted this as much as he did and he could tell, he knew very well you did. “baby . . . i just wanted to play a little prank on you, ‘s nothing serious . . . promise!” sunday kept his mouth shut as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, tugging you flush against his body. his lips find the nape of your neck, where he plants a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. "it is serious when there’s another man involved," he growls, his voice deep and rough with need. “ . . . and you know i don’t share, darling.”

with a hand, he reaches down and eases your pretty lil’ dress up, exposing your ass. his gloved fingers dig into the soft flesh, tracing the curve before giving it a firm, possessive squeeze. "bad, bad girl.” he murmurs, already envisioning the way you’ll shred under his touch. “what am i gonna do with a bad girl like you . .” sunday examines your facial expression, giving your cheek a gentle slap, inserting his thumb inside your mouth. “should i tie your arms around your back? shove my cock inside this slutty mouth of yours . . . or fill you up with my cum? or maybe . . . i should fuck you in-front of everyone else, let them know that you’re mine and mine alone . . do you want that, my love?”

sunday’s lips curve into a wicked smile, and he nods, his hand still firmly gripping your ass. "i wish i can hide you away from the world, angel-face . . . you need to be taught some more.” he warns, his voice thick with lust. “guess those punishments didn’t work on you . . . how pitiful.”

sunday kept your body pinned against the wall, the grip on your ass never wavering, the feel of his beloved pressed against him driving him wild. he knew you both had to be careful . . his little wings would flutter at the loud sound of music from below, there were still people around . . and getting caught was not something he would want. once you both were in the clear, he doesn't waste any time. with one swift movement, he lifts you even further up against the wall, your legs parting to reveal the wetness between them. sunday’s sinful eyes devour the sight, and he can't help the predatory smile that spreads across his face. "such a naughty girl, wet for me already,"

"now, what do you say we do something about that wetness of yours?" he asks, his voice low and suggestive, the air thick with the promise of pleasure and sinfulness. “ . . ‘s not fair i’m gettin’ punished for a prank . .” you murmured, legs trembling under his hold. sunday chuckles darkly, giving your ass a hard slap, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“now, now, baby . . no need to act all innocent," he teases, his hand never leaving your hip . . gently pinning you with his body even more. “i like how feisty you can get, angel face . . . but there's a time and a place for everything, right?" he purrs, his eyes dark with lust. “you won’t be acting all innocent once i fuck you dumb on my cock.” your husband traces his fingers down your chest, pausing to tease your nipples through the lace of the dress. his mouth finds yours, his lips soft as he explores your mouth with his tongue, taking his time to savor the taste of your lips he yearned for all day. when he pulls away, he's breathing heavily. the young male tsked, shaking his head as he reached your chin again, “you know how i feel about disobedience, correct?”

"tonight i’m going to show you who you belong to," he murmurs, reaching for the hem of the dress. with a swift yank, he pulls it over your head, revealing your body in all its glory. “the man you will belong to until the end of time.” sunday’s eyes drink in the sight of your black stockings, licking his lips. "you’re not getting away from me anytime soon, my love, i hope you and your pretty little head realize that.” he asks, his voice thick with desire as he starts to tug the stockings down.

“you’re not escaping me, angel-face.” he growls, his hand gripping the delicate fabric of the pair stockings you wore . . . with a swift and violent motion, he tears them down your legs, the sound of the material tearing filling the empty hall. he relents, pulling back just enough to grip your inner thigh, his grip firm but not oppressive. . . admiring the rip he caused with your stockings, giving him easier access to those pretty panties you wore.

sunday’s eyes gleam with a deranged excitement, gripping your hips, positioning himself at the entrance of your pussy . . giving it one painful slap. "you’ll thank me for this someday," he growls before gently sliding himself inside your wet heat, the friction sending shivers down his spine. “you’ll thank me for claiming you, my dove. you will.”

“a-ah . . sunday . . !” the young halovian’s lips curve into a wicked grin as you gasp, the surprise at the sudden invasion of his cock into your pussy more than apparent. he’s not gentle, not this time. sunday needs to claim you, to make sure you knew who owns you in this moment and forever. his thrusts were harsher than usual, tongue lolling out as you were slowly losing your mind already when his cock filled you completely. “you’re mine, angel. you’ll always be mine," he growls, the possessiveness in his tone thick. he pounds into you with desperation to get his message across your head, the rhythm erratic, as if he's trying to claw his way into your soul . . fingers nearly turning white as they dug into the flesh of your hips, pulling them back to meet each thrust of his cock.

his own heat was rising, the scent of sweat snd sex filling the air around you. with how loud you were moaning, he was almost certain someone would catch you both. “let the heat pass through you, and i’ll mark you. i’ll claim you, my love.” he was going to breed you, to leave no doubt that you were his. his thrusts became more erratic, more urgent, as he fights to push aside the thoughts that threaten to consume him. the single thought of his seed filling you only intensifies his need to dominate, to control . . to keep you all to himself.

"nobody will take you away from me. nobody.” sunday grinds his hips against you, his cock sliding against your tight entrance. sunday already came inside you multiple times the previous times you both had intercourse, but it's not enough. he wants your body to be filled with his seed. his fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts forward, filling your cunny with his throbbing dick. sunday’s eyes roll back as he relishes in the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him once more . . only raising his urge fill you up even more. “s—so tight, so perfect. i wish i could fill you up every day . . let everyone know you’re mine.” sweat drips down his forehead as he drives into you with a newfound fervor. each thrust is a powerful assertion, “easy now . . you don’t want us to get caught now, do you?" his voice is a low, gravelly growl, laced with desperation.

“sunday . . f-feels weird . . feels like i’m goin’ stupid . .” drool slipped away from your lips, a chuckle left sunday’s lips as he slowed down his thrusts . . giving you a moment to adjust to his size again, taking that moment to kiss and mark your neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin. “you were sent to me by the angels of this world,” he whispers, the possessiveness in his tone unmistakable. “you look so pretty pressed up against the wall like this . . . are you enjoying yourself?”

“fuck . . yes, yes!” sunday’s eyes flare with delight at your whine, your need for him clear, and it makes him even more aggressive in his thrusts. sunday was close, so close. he leaned over your shoulder, his teeth finding their mark on the juncture between their delicate skin of neck and shoulders, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. “mine, mine, mine . . ." he whispered against your ear, burying himself deeper and deeper, caging your hands above your head, holding them there as he filled you completely, ensuring that when you cum, you cum for him and only him. he’s not going to let you go.

with one final, brutal push of his cock, the halovian came inside your aching cunny, flooding your walls with his seed. he held you tightly against his body, shifting gently further into the wall. his release was intense, seed spurting deep inside as some dripped down on the floor. he nestled close against your neck, breathing heavily, refusing to let go of you even after he emptied himself inside. “ . . . so tell me, angel face, did you learn your lesson?”

© 6GUMI 2024. modifying 、translating 、sharing my works on other platforms 、or considering them as yours is strictly prohibited.

[chuulyssa]

drunk and driven. (light yagami)

↷ A/N ─ happy belated birthday to light and me !! i hope you enjoy this :) again, this is NOT rape/non-con. the reader is as sober as light here. written by a zombie-me at 4am. also im sorry if the camera topic is overused, i just couldnt help myself fantasizing about this

★ COUNT ─ 2.5k

!! TAGS ─ f!reader, dom!light, drinking, smut, fingering, spanking, unprotected sex, p in v, nicknames (good girl, pretty girl, etc.), edging, begging kink, voyeurism

★ PROLOGUE ─ your boyfriend punishes you for almost letting slip his real identity

SMUT, 18+, MDNI

The dim glow of the television cast shadows around the room. You had been at your high school's farewell party, and had too many drinks there to stumble back home in one piece. It was almost midnight, so there was also no way your boyfriend, Light Yagami, would have let you out of his sight, especially with how tipsy you were. He was quite protective of you, but he was right. You let out a drunk sigh and looked away, silently accepting the fact that you'd have to meet his parents in the morning and share a few awkward exchanges.

Light had had more drinks than you at the party, but he looked far from as drunk as you currently were. He was quietly watching a movie on the TV, stroking your hair lightly. Your gaze went up from Light to the flickering screen. A sudden surge of courage rushed through you.

"Light," you whispered, breaking the silence with your hoarse voice.

"No, you're not going home tonight," Light replied without looking at you.

"No, it's not that," you said frustratedly.

Light raised his eyebrows, hearing you slur your words due to the effects of the alcohol. Still, he did not look at you.

"How much did you drink?"

"Less than what you drank," your throat burned, your eyes drooping slightly.

He ignored you, seemingly engrossed in the movie, but you knew it was all just an act for the cameras L had set up.

You continued, "And it doesn't matter how much I drank, because either way, you refuse to give me attention."

Ryuk snickered in the corner.

Light frowned, finally turning his attention towards you as his eyes trailed down your body. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes, the redness of your cheeks, and the slight swaying of your body.

He looked at you for a few more seconds with a calculating look before sighing and setting the remote on his table. He stood up, "You should really get some sleep."

"No," you repeated.

"I-" Light was starting to get annoyed. "Are you crazy? Don't you want to go home tomorrow?"

"I just- I-" You sighed again, leaning back against your chair and almost falling off.

"Idiot," Light muttered, catching you before you fell. He carried you to his bed and lay you down gently before covering you with his blanket. "Are you comfortable? Do you want me to sleep on the floor?"

"No, no, I need cuddles," you smiled drunkenly, completely forgetting what you were going to say back when you had gotten some "courage".

"Of course, you do," Light said proudly. "You need my cuddles to sleep."

You hummed in response. As he snottily took his shirt off before lying down next to you, you closed your eyes slightly. They were burning, as if trying to stop you from both closing them and keeping them open.

His hands made their way to your back, gently pushing your neck to his bare chest. You finally shut your heavy eyelids and snuggled closer to him. This was what you always wanted. Just you and Light. Alone.

You furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes still tightly shut, your face pressed against him. Alone? It was laughable that you thought even for a moment that you two were alone right now. Well, for one, there was a God of Death in the same room as you, trying not to pass out from the lack of apples in his digestive system. Second, a great detective was watching the two of you, possibly along with your boyfriend's own father.

Light pulled you even closer to him, inhaling your scent deeply. Soon, the two of you drifted off to dreamland, and L was left questioning whether the seventeen-year-old star student really was a murderer.

You woke up, limbs tangled with Light's. You checked your wristwatch. About four hours had passed, and as you tried to sit up, your head felt heavy from an early hangover. Light's eyes jerked open. He had always been a light sleeper.

"Hm?" he mumbled in his sleep, no longer feeling the presence of your head in the crook of his neck. "What's the matter, honey?"

"I... had a dream," you said slowly.

"Nightmare?"

"Kinda."

Light sat up slowly and reached out for a glass of water to hand to you.

You peeked into the glass, rubbing your left eye until you saw stars.

"Vodka?" you said hopefully.

"Water," he replied calmly.

You pouted pleadingly; more alcohol was what you needed right now, but you eventually had to resign to your boyfriend. You drank the water, and instantly felt much more sober than you were before. Your sleepy eyes fell on Ryuk, his legs and hands in a rather uncomfortable position, perhaps due to not having apples for such a long time.

For a moment, you, for the second time that night, completely forgot about the existence of the cameras.

You turned to Light. "How long is he going to go without apples?"

"Who, honey?" Light's eyes flashed warningly, but you were far too sleepy to notice.

"Ryuk, your Shini-"

Your words were cut off by a sharp kiss. Light had completely thrown himself at you, and you fell back down on the bed due to the sheer force of his abrupt kiss. The empty glass landed on the floor with a loud clink, but he ignored it. His hands reached under your shirt, his nails digging into the skin of your hips as if daring you to talk further.

You attempted to prop yourself up on your elbows, to gain some kind of control over what was happening. But Light pushed you back down, pulling you by your hips and roughly throwing your head down on the pillow.

He pulled away eventually, the pupils of his eyes completely red, and you cursed yourself mentally. This was not your Light. This was Kira.

He leaned away from you, got up to pick up the thrown glass and filled it with water again, but as he offered it to you, you rejected it. "I'm sober enough for this, Light."

"Very well then," Light whispered and leaned in closer to your ear. "I hope you remember you're being watched. Make sure you put on a show."

You nodded slowly, letting his hands roam around and make their way to the hem of your skirt, twirling the fabric around his fingers. He brought another hand to your top and slid it under the cloth, feeling the material of your satin bra.

"The one I gifted to you?" he raised his eyebrows, a little smirk on his face.

"Yes," you whispered, pulling his bare chest against your clothed one. "Strip me, Light."

"What's the magic word?" he teased, hand slipping under your bra and cupping your breast.

"Please," you whimpered when he pinched your nipple.

Ryuk snapped his eyes open and tumbled out of the room clumsily, perhaps to give you some privacy.

"Good girl," he didn't hide his smirk this time as he pulled your top off completely, throwing it to the side where it landed on his chair next to his own shirt. He ran his hands down your back, grabbing the zipper of your skirt and slowly pulling it down. Light slid the skirt down your legs, leaving you in a matching set of satin underwear and bra.

"Pretty," he murmured, his hand grasping his growing bulge tightly.

"Let me help you with that," you sat up on all fours and leaned in closer, a hand stretched out to touch his crotch.

You rubbed him lightly, slowly increasing your pace before unbuckling his belt and slipping your hand under his boxers. Your constant touching of his tip made him groan, hand reaching out to yank you by your hair and push you back down to the bed. You grabbed his hands and brought them to your breasts, pressing them against your chest.

"Take my bra off."

"I'm not a man to be told what to do," he said, bringing his lips down to your neck. "But I will allow it this time."

Light freed his hands from your grip and brought them to your back, unclasping the hook of your bra and letting it fall to the floor. He cupped your breasts in his hands, lowering himself so that his mouth sucked on one nipple while his hand squeezed the other.

"Fuck," you moaned, pushing his head against your chest.

He grabbed your hand and brought it once more to his crotch, letting you feel the bulge in his pants again.

"You're not the only one who's needy right now."

"You're so- god, I can't wait to feel you inside me," you said, rubbing his dick through the fabric.

"Patient girls are rewarded," he said, dragging his lips from your neck to your collarbone, his free hand ripping your panties off.

"Hey!" you whisper-screamed.

"I'll buy you another set," he said calmly, sliding two fingers inside you, curling them up and hitting your g-spot.

"Yes," you moaned, pushing his hand against your pussy. "Faster."

He brought his other hand from your nipple to your clit and started rubbing it in circles, simultaneously fucking you with his fingers.

"Fuck, I'm going to come," you whimpered after a few minutes, feeling your orgasm build.

"Mhm, do it, what a good girl," he said, rubbing your clit faster, aiding your release. You came hard on his fingers, arching your back, bucking against his hand and moaning loudly. Your legs shook, while he pulled his fingers out of your pussy and brought them to your mouth. "Clean them."

You nodded, sucking on his fingers, your teeth digging into his skin. Light smirked.

"Don't you think you should be punished?"

"Huh-? For what, Li-?"

Your words were cut off once again when he pulled you onto his lap so that your ass faced him and you lay on your stomach, pussy pressed against his crotch.

_ _ _ _

"L, I don't think we should be watching this," Soichiro Yagami kept his eyes away from the screen, where his son, his perfect little son, was busy fingering his girlfriend. He hadn't even known he had a girlfriend, let alone the fact that they were so... intimate with each other.

"There has to be some meaning in what the girl said," L racked his brains, eyes scanning the scene, now showing you in Light's lap and his hand rubbing your ass. "Apples?"

"For god's sake, it may be some sort of safeword for when they- for when they do- this," Soichiro yelled, his eyes on the floor.

"It's not a mere coincidence, Mr Yagami," L said thoughtfully. "Apples? Kira told me 'Shinigamis' loved apples earlier. This is not a coincidence, Mr Yagami."

_ _ _ _

"You're going to be punished for fucking everything up," he whispered in your ear before smacking your ass hard. "Count."

"One!" you yelped, feeling the sting of his hand on your ass. "Two!" "Three!" "Four!" "Five!"

He kept spanking you, alternating between your ass cheeks. You could feel his dick hard against your stomach, and ignoring the pain in your ass, you started to grind against it.

"Six!" "Seven!" "Eight!"

He spanked you harder, and you could feel your ass getting red. You were breathing heavily, and your pussy was so wet that it was dripping onto his lap.

"Nine! Ten!"

_ _ _ _

"Can we stop watching this now?" Soichiro groaned.

"There has to be some hint," L traced the screen with his fingers which showed you getting spanked hard by Light now.

Soichiro let out an uncomfortable sigh.

"Mr Yagami, you can close your ears and eyes," L said without looking away from the screen.

_ _ _ _

"Good girl," Light said, rubbing your ass. "Now, a reward."

He slid his pants and boxers down to his legs and wiggled out of them. He brought his dick to your pussy, rubbing its head against your clit and earning a moan from your pursed lips. He flipped you over, pinning you under him on the bed again as he continued to tease you.

"Please, Light," you begged, trying to reach out for his dick so you could push it in.

"Please what?" he said sweetly and you groaned in annoyance.

"Please fuck me."

He smiled and pushed his dick inside you slowly, savouring every inch of your tight pussy.

"Oh!" you wailed, feeling his cock stretch your pussy.

He started bucking his hips in and out, fucking you harder as his balls slapped against your clit, doubling the pleasure. He was careful not to make a sound, but he didn't stop you from letting your strangled moans out. This would be your punishment, facing his mother in the morning after getting fucked so hard by him at night.

You tried very hard to suppress your lustful sounds, eyes welling up at the thought of facing his family in a few hours, but you couldn't. He was too good. He knew just how to get under your skin. Slowly, you felt your second orgasm approaching.

"Ah, ah! I want to come," you clasped your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. He was going so hard on you, of course, his mother and his sister would wake up if he continued.

"No, you're not. Hold it in," Light commanded. "You're going to come when I say so."

He kept fucking you harder, and you could feel your orgasm building. This was torture. There was no way you could hold yourself in when he was going so hard on you.

"Please, Light," you begged, feeling your pussy clench around his dick. "I can't hold it in anymore."

"Hold it in, I said," he said, flipping you over again and spanking your ass hard. He increased his speed, and you buried your head in a pillow to muffle your screams. "I'm going to come inside you now. Understood?"

You could feel his cock twitching inside you, and you knew he wasn't lying about his orgasm. You nodded slowly, voice still distant because of the pillow.

He let out a long, satisfied groan as he released his juices inside you, pushing his dick deep inside you. You could feel his cum filling your pussy, and it sent you over the edge.

"Now, come for me, pretty girl," Light said in a hoarse voice.

"Yes!" you screamed, feeling your orgasm wash over you. His cum was dripping out of your pussy, and you could feel his cock softening inside you.

"Good," he said, pulling his cock out of you. It was scary how calm and composed he was when a minute ago, he had spanked you so hard. He grabbed a towel and wiped your pussy clean.

_ _ _ _

Soichiro blinked at the abrupt ending of the sounds. Still refusing to look up at the screen, he asked, "Is it over now?"

"They're both still naked," L said, analyzing the place, feeling his own dick harden at your bare figure, panting and sweating as Light got off you and laid next to you, throwing the towel somewhere insignificant.

"Well then?" Soichiro said.

"Well what?"

"You made me watch my son... doing- doing stuff with his girlfriend," Soichiro said in a shaky voice, his hands behind his back to avoid pulling his hair out in frustration. "What have you understood from this?"

"What I've understood?" L said thoughtfully, his gaze unconsciously reaching his growing bulge. "Your son is quite romantic, I suppose."

© chuulyssa, 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Congratulations! It's Triplets. Part 3

@unadulteratedsoulsweets said: In Congratulations! It's triplets! As much the entire thing is so wholesome I wanna see some bit of angst. Imagine dis the entire family is out in public.Includes the Batfam, Jazz and the triplets for a huge family bonding activity. Some random person( a karen) commented on how Jazz is a teen mother, an irresponsible person, a whore... Etc (you know the usual comments of being a mother too young) and the Batfam reaches the conclusion that the Pit Rage transfers onto the kids as two of the triplets have already green glowing eyes with rage filling it by the second and ready to tackle/punch the person who made the comment but the last of the triplets have their other "siblings" by their collar but despite holding the two back they too have their eyes switching from blue to eery toxic green and was one second to join them to murder whomever bad mouthed Jazz

It's not that Jason didn't think that the Pit would only have repercussions in his life. He just always assumed it would only be his life.

He never considered the possibility that it would affect his offspring in any way. (Besides having a father that was completely mad in Pit Rage)

Maybe it was a pipe dream to think that or maybe it was just having hope that his messed up second life had already been hard enough so the universe was going to give him a break on this one.

The three small children currently growling at a reporter, eyes flashing in and out of green, told him that wasn't the case.

It had started off as a fun little day out. Jazz and the kids mainly kept to themselves in Wayne Manor. Bruce had housed them in the west Annex, a place usually only used when guests of high importance would stay in the Manor's history.

It came complete with its own kitchen, bathroom, sitting room, seven bedrooms, and three bathrooms. It even had its own entrance that usually stayed out of sight of the main gate- a compelling feature for Jazz, who didn't want her kids in the limelight until everything legal was settled.

The distance between the two buildings was one acre, giving the family of four the privacy they needed and keeping them close for Jason to get to know.

As far as Jason knew, Jazz had not revealed the father of her children to anyone.

As far as the world knew, Jazz had recently moved to temporary housing until her insurance could help her rebuild her house or, if she was at a total loss, find new housing.

Thankfully, no one thought it strange as they weren't the only ones displaced. Poison Ivy's latest Save the Earth stunt targeted overpopulated neighborhoods guilty of destroying the land to build upon (in her own words).

She returned the favor and broke down the buildings to give back to the Green. Never mind the people inside the buildings or the livelihoods she destroyed in progress.

Ivy had gone through five streets before the Bats stopped her and returned her to Arkham Asylum.

It's been a week since the incident. Jason hasn't seen much of his kids, not for the lack of trying, but it was hard to fit their schedules. The three were in school most of the day, and when they got out, Jason usually had to run to prepare his "nightly" job.

He couldn't just slack off- doing so would mean those scum bags that didn't directly work for Red Hood would think that they could get away with breaking his rules.

He had slowly been dividing his responsibilities among his men- drug dealing, weapon dealing, illegal car races, prostitution, and protecting kids and street workers- so that he could have one night off without worrying.

That didn't mean he didn't see his kids at all. Jason usually had two hours a day with them, where he tried his best to connect to his kids, but the triplets seemed weary of him.

He could tell they didn't feel comfortable with him invading their space, so he tried to stay outside the annex. As someone who worked a lot with street kids, he knew never to break the sense of safety their hiding holes were to them.

Instead, he decided to meet his children in the open space between the Annex and the Manor.

The four-five with Jazz casually reading on the Annex floating balcony. Jason pretended not to notice she was doing so to keep an eye on her kids- would sit down at the garden table to have an after-school snack, enjoying the multiple rose bushes nearly as tall as him that Alfred cared for.

It was always one of Jason's favorite Wayne gardens because it often made him think of magical castles with giant mazes and lovely scattered flowers.

He noticed that his eldest- Dan- might have felt the same, given how the boy would sometimes spread his arms and run through the rose bushes pathways. He even picks up sticks and plays knights against invisible enemies.

(Jason pretended he was a knight in these gardens when Bruce first took him in.)

Danny, his second, seems more interested in lying underneath the rose bushes and reading about the stars. If Gotham had clearer skies, he think his boy would be a cat napping in the sunlight and sitting around at night to glance at the starlights.

His daughter seemed even more adventurous than her brothers. She often would test Jazz's patience because she wandered away from the Annex garden to explore the others. Jason had seen her climb statues and trees to get a better viewpoint, marking whatever she saw on a little map.

He got a look at her map and felt his heart swell at the childish little drawings- Damian's painting corner in the east Garden was now "Artist Alley", the south garden had a dragon fountain so Dani had decided it was "Dragon Keep" and she had found the north floating balcony where Bruce liked to go practice his not so secret love of singing.

Dani had marked her map as "Siren's Side" with a cute little drawing of Bruce singing.

The more he learned about his three kids, the more Jason loved them.

Jazz wasn't kidding when she said she didn't mind him in their lives- she was just worried that he would try to take them, and with his money and connections, she wouldn't be able to stop him. Her worry bled into the three children, and with intelligent eyes that belied their five years of age, they would watch him with guarded caution.

The moment they would finish their snack, the three would make excuses to run off and do their own thing. Jazz would continue reading, but Jason wouldn't be a Bat if he didn't see the way she relaxed whenever the kids left the table.

It was rough....to want to be accepted by them but also understanding why a random man wanting a family connection would be difficult to establish.

That's why Jazz's suggestion that they all visit the zoo had been such a shock. She gave Jason a strained smile, but her eyes were soft. For a moment, Jason felt his heart skip a beat. "It would be nice for the kids to see the zoo with their...dad."

The five had headed to the zoo- with Bruce and the rest following behind in disguises because they are all nosy assholes. He had gotten so used to the clicking of Tim's camera- as his brother was over-excited to capture his nephews' and niece's first zoo outing- that he hadn't realized a second camera was following them.

They had just finished watching the penguins swim when Danny tugged on the leg of his pants. "Mr. Dad, sir. Can I tell you something?"

Jason's heart jumped. Is Danny starting to like him? Sure, he put Mr and Sir, but he called him Dad! Grining widely he kneed down to get to his level.

"What up, bud?"

Danny leaned in to whisper in his ear. "There is a man taking pictures of me in the bushes."

Usually, Jason would have told him something like, "Tim is weird, but he's harmless." However, he knew for a fact Tim was on the roof of the Penguin exhibit and that meant some random man was taking pictures of his kid.

Green bleeds into his vision slowly, and Danny jerks back, surprised by the sight. "Go with your mother-"

"Pervert in the bushes!" Dan's voice cuts Jason off. They both turn to the little five-year-old throwing stones into the surrounding bushes and a man stumbling out of them with a shout. "Pervert in the bushes"

Danny facepalms, which is not the reaction his son should have. How in the world did Dan even know the word pervert?

"Dan! What on earth are you doing!?" Jazz screams alarmed. She raced back, a tray with four ice cream cones in her hands, and Dani, not far behind, also carrying her own cone. The girls had gone to get some frozen treats for everyone not too long ago.

The man turns to her with a very familiar predatory glint in his eye. Shit, Jason knows who he is. He is a paparazzi and one of his kids called him dad in front of the stranger.

The man takes Jazz's picture, momentarily blinding her with the flash, before firing questions and taking more pictures of her reaction to each one, "Miss, are you the baby momma of Bruce Wayne? Or one of his many kids? How did it feel to be a mother so young? Were your intentions to get pregnant to have access to the Wayne Will? How much money did the Wyanes pay you for a night?"

What?

Jazz's eyes go wide, her face drained of blood, and she looks frozen in fear. "I don't-why would- I'm not!"

"Not a whore or not a gold digger?"

"Neither!" Her voice wabbles like she's about to break into tears.

Jason sees green. He is about to beat the disgusting pig to the ground but his children are faster. Dani races forward, little arm pulled back and throws her whole body into a jab at the paparazzi's manhood.

The man drops his camera in a wheeze. Dan smashes it with another stone, hitting the lens five times just to make sure it is broken and starts to advance at the man.

Dani is currently yelling at the top of her lungs, swearing, and punching the man with her belt buckle wrapped around her knuckles. It's satisfying to watch- his kids beating down a full-grown man with no training, just vicious righteousness to protect their mother.

That is, until Danny- the apparently more level-headed triplet pulls them both off by the back collar of their shirts. Jason sees it for the first time.

The kids eyes are glowing green.

Horror creeps into every part of his mind, and he doesn't even realize the creep is screaming about suing them or Tim and Bruce's fantastic entry to get a handle on the situation.

He is distantly aware of Steph and Cass, helping a silently crying Jazz walk away, and that Dick, Damian, Duke, and Harper form a protective circle around the kids, but it's Cullen that realizes Jason is frozen.

"Jason? Are you alright?"

No, he is not alright.

Pit's madness ruined his life. It left blanks in his memory. Left him lashing out and killing quickly. It makes him attack Tim and others. It made the child Jason used to be, feel sick and revolted.

It made it hard to look in the mirror and not be disgusted. It was everything that was wrong with him since the Joker took all his innocence away with his blasted crowbar.

Pit Madness is a curse that he has to live with sometimes where he claws at his own skin in a pathetic attempt to get away from it. But he could never escape its taunting whispers, its controlling green, or its presence sitting somewhere behind his eyes that turned him into a monster.

A curse he gave to his children.

He truly is Wills Tod's son, isn't he?

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒌𝒚 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒏

🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓

summary - after getting his heart broken, something leads clark to the strawberry shack, allowing him to release all his anger.

warning - smut, gloryhole, swearing, slight angst, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Lois had left him, she had packed her bags and walked out the door. Though she wasn’t expecting him home, which explained the shocked look on her face when he walked through the front door, seeing her bags packed and her keys in her hand. Clark watched her leave before flying off anywhere that could keep his mind off her. He stumbled upon a certain building that caught his eye, the flashing sign that read ‘The Strawberry Shack’ caused him to become curious, so he landed and walked in. 

Listening to the woman at the front as she explained things, his face turning red, jaw clenching and his brows furrow as he realised the type of establishment he walked into. “So, sugar. What’s it gonna be? Door one or door two?” 

“Uh… What the hell. Door two.” He pulls out some cash and hands it over before walking toward the door, he can feel his mind go crazy as he enters, never seeing this many naked women before. Clark could feel a pull towards a certain woman, not being able to control his feet as he walks in your direction. He’d have to remember to be careful, not wanting to literally split you open from his strength. “Hello.”

Clark was mad and you could practically feel that radiating off him. So, you spread your legs, inviting him in for him to use you however he pleases. “I can feel your anger, handsome. Why don’t you use me, take it out on me.” 

Clark glares down at your sopping cunt, licking his lips as he feels himself harden in his pants. His hands move subconsciously, taking his cock out and stroking it as he stares down at you. A groan slips from his lips before he begins to slowly push inside of you. Clark’s eyes slip closed as he revels in the feel of a new woman, slowly thrusting in and out of you, hands gently gripping your hips as he feels you squeeze around his thick girth. 

“Oh, you feel so good. Fuck me, please.” You let out a breathless moan, your back arches off the bench as he begins to slam into you, hitting that spot deep inside of you. Clark begins to lose control, thrusting faster and harder, his cock throbs as he really fucks you. He grunts and groans, tightening his grip slightly, his eyes glow red as lasers shoot from his eyes and he quickly blinks.

“Fuck…” His balls tighten, hips jerk as he growls, releasing thick ropes of cum inside of you, coating your tight walls. He continues to roughly fuck into you until his balls are empty, enjoying how you squirt around him. “F–fuck…” He pulls out slowly, cleaning you up before tucking himself back into his pants. “I–I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.” Clark quickly worries, hurriedly running out the door and flying off, feeling ashamed for using you for his pleasure. 

You lie there, staring above as you can barely feel your legs, tingling between your thighs as stars cover your vision and a dopey smile rests on your face.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[cherubfae]

"the need for speed? nah dude, the need to breed!" || {hazbin x reader}

ft. Lucifer, Vox, Adam

tags: nsfw, smut, fallen angel! afab!gn!reader, reader has the ability to become pregnant, pregnancy, starting a family, pet names (doll, sweetheart, sweetling, etc), spit as lube, Adam is his own warning lmao, he gets kinda nasty. Dude definitely has some sort of narcissistic kink.

a/n: if you see me, no you don't. never would've thought I'd write for adam much less smut for him lmao wow I clearly don't have a favorite what--- lol enjoy everyone!! -- noah<3

Lucifer

One clawed hand braced against the wall above the headboard, the other gripping your flesh tightly. He moves you against him, every roll of his hips has him shuddering. Mouth agape and drooling, Lucifer tosses his head back with a wanton pant. The scent of magic fills the air as his wings explode out of his back; red and white feathers glimmer beneath the blood red glow of Hell's evening sky. "Fuck, sweetling. Can never get used to how well you take my cock. Gods above, you were made for me, weren't you?" Nipping at your throat, Lucifer folds himself over you, hiking your thighs over his hips. Gasping at the new position, Lucifer seals your lips in a kiss. He's noisy, audibly whimpering and panting into your mouth-- and you aren't fairing much better. Practically clawing at any exposed skin you can reach. His claws tenderly stroke along your wings, an action that makes you whine and clench around his cock. Groaning, Lucifer's eyes shift to that beautiful blazing red. "Gonna make me a daddy again, sweetheart?" His pace increases, every thrust sending the headboard bashing against the wall. "How about giving me a son this time, baby?"

Vox

With hands pinned beneath one of Vox's above your head, you were entirely at your fiance's mercy. Brutal thrusts rocked your body upwards, molding your core to the shape of his thick cock. Teeth at your throat, Vox's voice is a soothing rumble of static. "You look so fuckin' pretty like this, baby. All stretched out f'me and begging so nicely." Repositioning himself, Vox thrusts upwards with a shudder. He loves having you like this, so cute and pliant for him. Definitely has some form of a corruption kink what with your wings splayed put across the bed. You were a holy being once, and now here you are, in Hell, taking his cock like its the last time you'll ever enjoy one another. It makes him feel powerful, using all of his strength to rock himself inside of you-- and you, oh so willing for every drop of his cum. "Can't wait to give you so many kids, f'it means I get to breed you over n' over."

Adam

"Shit, sweetheart. Don't clench so tight. We've barely started d'ya want me cummin' inside ya that fast?" Sucking in a sharp breath, Adam bows over your naked body, harshly pinning your knees apart. Your wings are pinned beneath your back strain in protest, but you're not trying to hard to escape your position; not when your husband looks this fucking good. Hissing, he rears his hips back until his cockhead barely touches your entrance. Gathering his precum with two fingers, he fucks those same fingers into your hole moaning low at the lewd noises that seep out. "Such a greedy fuckin' hole, yeah? So desperate for some nice thick cock, fuckkkk." Adam spits onto his fingers, stretching you nice and wide. "Can't wait to breed you, babe. Gonna make us parents. You're gonna look even more sexy when you're carrying my kid." He chuckles to himself. Sinking his teeth into the column of your neck, Adam fucks his length into you with one sharp thrust.

a/n: ... Do you think Vox's kids are gonna be like.. iPhones or iPads? A portable DVD and BluRay player? I can't take TV man seriously lmao

|| please don't repost, reuse, or edit my works in any way! I do not give permission. Tumblr is the only site where I post. All characters belong to their rightful owner and the story belongs to me © CHERUBFAE 2024 ||

[bluerosefox]

Courting Chaos (to Balance)

A KlarionxDanny brain worm that has spawned

Tim Drake, aka Red Robin gets kidnapped suddenly and very randomly by Klarion in the middle of a JL and others meeting.

Leaving with a

"I'LL RETURN HIM WHEN HES NO LONGER USEFUL JUSTICE LOSERS!"

And fire and chaos in his wake.

While the JL, and others scramble to figure out what Klarion has planned this time, Tim manages to break free of whatever Klarion had used to kidnap him only to find himself on a couch and Klarion nervously petting Teekl on his lap while also sitting in a chair across from him.

When Tim goes to demand to know why Klarion kidnapped him Klarion finally speaks.

"Okay, I wanna strike a deal. I won't bug you or your little Young Just US buddies if you help me ask someone out..."

"...What the fuck Klarion?" Was Tim's only response.

-x-x-

So it turns out, every so often the three main entities and actual factions of Order, Chaos, and Balance get together to well discuss things happening in certain Realms, worlds, and timelines. Basicly to touch base, see where everyone was at. Etc etc.

Order was Order. Chaos was Chaos.

Very simple.

Both could be bad. To much order caused restraint and could snuff out growth. To much Chaos could get out of hand and cause ruin.

Both could be good. Order help stabilizes worlds and builds their future. Chaos allowed creativity to roam and brought forth wonderful things.

And Balance.

Well Balance was the very scales that kept both sides in check. They were neutral grounds. The ones that normally oversaw the meetings as well. And despite their low numbers they held powerful entities that more than made up for it.

Balance did their best to keep things in check, sure they do have their own preference sometimes and allowed the scales to tip a tiny bit but always corrected it later if it tips to much.

It was at this meeting, a meeting even Klarion knew better than to do anything too chaotic, pranks were fine but nothing too much, and had been chatting with a newcomer to the side of Chaos (Danielle, call me Ellie, Phantom. She did some heroing on the side but liked causing chaos in her wake to do so, he liked her so far though.) When the bells for the side of Balance to appear announced them.

Ellie had smiled brightly and said her brother was coming with his mentor, turns out her brother was apart of the Balance group which meant that he was strong, strong enough to need a mentor.

He watched as the members of Balance walked, teleported, flew, and other means into the meeting halls. And then froze when his eyes caught sight of him.

Floating next to a blue skined being that was switching ages was a beautiful otherworldly person.

Snow white hair that wisped upwards oh so softly. Glowing green eyes that were cat-like with their piercing glance. A galaxy cloak hanged around his shoulders and seemed to shift with each movement. Star like freckles decorated his face and seemed to glow a soft bluish white. A crown made of ice and aurora lights floated above his head as well.

All in all Klarion couldn't keep his eyes off of the being at all. He nearly spat his water out when Ellie commented that was her brother Danny, or rather.

High King of the Infinite Realms, Daniel 'Danny' Phantom. The Great One. Defeater of the Tyrant King. The Halfa. The Peaceful End. The Balance of the Undead. (And his mentor was the Ghost of Time itself. THE very Keeper of Time, Kronos original form himself.)

Klarion honestly didn't know what to think or rather what emotions he was feeling when he spotted Danny, nor why his face felt so hot and red when the young man looked over at them and smiled. (He was smiling at Ellie but Klarion for some reason hoped it was for him as well)

It wasn't until halfway in the meeting when a rather ingenious prank that Klarion, Ellie, and a few others had set up went off... thing was it strong enough that it had hit Danny's side of the meeting and had hit him.

Now, again pranks were okay but only after the meetings. It was one of the few rules many, even those in Chaos, took seriously because once it was done and over they could go do their things. So for it to happen in the middle of a meeting means someone set their time on the prank wrong and add the fact it hit a person on the Balance side...

Yeah not good.

Only...

Only instead of getting angry, even Clockwork who was seated next to Danny was chuckling, Danny threw his head back and laughed about it. And his laugh... was very cute.

And before he knew it, Klarion had already fallen.

-x-x-

"So yeah.... Since you have a boyfriend and know how to date in this modern age, I need your advice."

".... Klarion just because I'm dating Bernard doesn't mean I know how I did it..."

"Bernard? I thought you were dating that one Supes?"

[rammliedmania]

healing faust !! 🍀 design notes below

This design is not meant to replace or hate on the current ggst faust!! I love the noodle man a lot. However, when i saw his beta concept, i couldn't help but imagine, what if this design has been chosen for strive? so, trying my best, i made my version of it! (also who am i lying to, i love the beta concept so much!!)

I ended up combining beta design & current strive faust for more sauce (?) … i did not want to leave alone part of his strive's design that i really like, so i combined them! (specially the mini fausts)

His eyes glow like in strive or accent core, but only when feeling very strong emotions. Sometimes, it can give out how he's currently feeling when he tries to be calm or neutral instead.

His eyes glow pink, and not red, based on dr. Baldhead's eye color on his ML ending.

I gave 3 variants to his mini fausts, probably used in different things on his "what could this be" (i.e: one to heal himself, one to attack, etc.)

For the mini fausts, also, i wanted to give them different personalities as well; an aggressive one, a loyal helper one, and a scaredy one!

I tried to give him brown monochromatic tones as the base, since such colors are calming and look professional. However, to pop-out his personality, i used the primary colors to express more emotion in it…!

You can take this design as pre-strive, post-strive, between strive, or an AU of some sorts. All in all, this "healing faust" is as ambiguous as i can make him, so it's up to you to decide!

[semisolidmind]

Drops these thoughts in exchange for absolutely mauling your art.

Saved catnap would be down right horrifying to encounter in the woods-

If your just going for a quick walk, I think he’d just stalk you, ensuring you never get close to Angel’s property.

If you’re there for other reasons……well….CatNap has been debating making a new shire for Angel….(much to everyone else’s dismay and horror…)

And if the person sneaking onto the property has features resembling Angel (hair, eyes, clothing, etc), it gets a little…..off putting to into the barn….

(Also the image of CatNap just licking poor Angel while they’re sleeping beside him is so strong. Even more if he’s doing it to annoy DogDay and rub his scent on angel. Gotta lay your claim to your savior somehow!)

(oh god...catnap barn shrine.... consists of some stolen shirts, a comb, perhaps a throw blanket and some pillows, a picture (with anyone other than y/n scratched out) stolen from the mantle, a spare hairtie or two...anything catnap can get his paws on while the others are distracted or out of the house)

and the idea of catnap occasionally "borrowing" his savior has been on my mind. like, he'll get just close enough to them, quietly from behind, to subtly breath a little red smoke on them. just enough to knock them out. then he'll gently carry them up to his nest in the barns' hayloft. he just wants to hold them, but knows y/n doesn't trust him enough to really let him close.

he spends that time where they're knocked out nuzzling them and purring up a storm. he knows the stupid dog will be breaking down his door to retrieve y/n as soon as he realizes they're gone, so....catnap makes the most of his time with them.

–

ive also been imagining a scene where y/n leaves dogday and the girls inside to make dinner, and goes out onto the back porch. it's dark, and they can't really see much beyond where the porch light can reach, but...they know catnap is out there. they can see the barest trace of his lanky silhouette in the trees beyond the barn.

his white pupils glow through the gloom. his heavy stare pins y/n in place.

with no better ideas, y/n sits, legs dangling over the edge of the deck. they maintain eye contact with catnap. after a beat of silence, they make the one noise no cat can resist.

pssp pssp pssp.

catnap is confused, if the perk of his ears and small tilt of his head is anything to go by.

but, he does take a slow step out of the trees, recognizing the sound as a summons. he begins to cross the yard, getting closer, never taking his eyes off of y/n. his slow stalking gait is anxiety inducing, but y/n tries to keep it together. they have a plan.

they want to get catnap more comfortable with them, with the house, to help better integrate him into their little family. perhaps a little TLC will make the stray cat more personable.

he looks ready to run despite his intimidating facade. his long tail flicks from side to side. curious, but cautious. his eyes never leave y/n.

catnap slowly gets closer and closer, eventually coming into the light. y/n always forgets how big he and dogday actually are; that sheer size is less threatening on dogday, who y/n knows won't hurt them. they're not so sure about catnap.

the massive toy looms over them in spite of his cautious, low posture.

y/n slowly raises their hands, palms upturned. an invitation.

catnap's eyes flicker to their hands for a second before returning to their face. y/n can only hope he understands what they're inviting him to do.

the feline slowly, carefully, steps forward. he sets his heavy head into y/n's palms. he begins to purr when they ever so softly begin to scratch his chin and behind his ears.

moving out of y/n's space, catnap backs away. quiet and uneasy, y/n lets him go. they know that the process of "rehabilitating" him will take time and patience. getting him used to them and the others will be a struggle. but for now, they're just happy that they could get him to accept touch at all.

he knows that the small, tentative smile on their face is...proud, perhaps. happy that he's accepted their care. despite his hesitation, he soaks in the feeling of his savior's hands on him. he can't remember the last time he'd felt a gentle touch. catnap leans into the motions, eyelids drooping a little in contentment. his white eyes remain locked on y/n's face, his pupils dilating a bit. they seem more at ease with him like this. he basks in their simple affection for several minutes, his purring the only sound; he's thoroughly enjoying the peaceful moment between the two of them.

however, a crash from inside and the raucous voices of the other toys startle him into alertness. his eyes widen, pupils shrinking back to slits and his ears lay flat against his head. he hears y/n gasp in surprise, pulling their hands back. catnap's a bit disappointed at the loss of their touch, but knows that it's better not to invite the ire of the other toys by lingering too long. the moment has passed, and he can feel y/n's unease growing again.

the large toy stalks off into the darkness. y/n waits until he's safely beyond the trees to stand and open the door. they cast one last look into the night before heading back inside to mediate whatever accident just occurred.

catnap, as standoffish as he appears, treasures the small gesture he's just received. he returns to the woods, pleased and purring to himself; thinking about the scrap of affection he's been granted from the hands of his beloved savior. he'll be sure to seek them out for more.

[marksbear2]

Hiii Papa!! I love your writing and so happy that you came back. And I hope your enjoying America!!

Im requesting Homelander x Male reader. And can it be headcanons? And also smut? I really love your spicy fics. Thank youuu

HOMELANDER X MALE READER

Hello, thank you for requesting!! I’m glad you like my writing and yes I’m having a great time in America so far. There’s not enough Homelander x reader so I’m happy to write for my man.

⚠️Warnings!!- Asshole homelander, humiliation kink, dirty talk, mentions blackmail, public, blow job, mirror, and etc. ⚠️

— You was the first ever man he ever don’t it with. He was a bit awkward but still had his cocky and brave persona. 

— He tried to top you for the first few times. He refused to let you even touch his hole. So you just let him top you until you got bored of it and decided to fuck him instead.

— Your his guilty pleasure, he hates the fact how he submitted his body to you. Not without a fight though, he wasn’t just going to let you fuck him. You had to work for it. 

— Homelander was devastated for days whenever you fucked him. He didn’t know how to act, he couldn’t believe he just handed over his ass to another man…the worst part of all to him was the fact that he enjoyed it.

— Homelander prefers taking it from behind so he doesn’t have to face you and you don’t have to see his face or anything. He always tell himself it’s a one time thing and will never happen again. 

— He swears that he hates you and your cock. He knew he was doomed that whenever he tried jerking off he couldn’t get hard at the thought of a woman or seeing a girl naked. But whenever he thought of you he got hard as an rock. 

— He refused to be kissed by you, he  struggle and avoid getting any sort of affection from you if it wasn’t strictly sexual.

— He likes taking it rough, he began to love and crave the feeling of your dick stretching his hole out and fucking him merciless. 

— He tells you not too pull or tug his hair whenever you two are fucking but doesn’t even protest when you do it. He loves it in fact. Forcing his head back and forcing him to look at you.

— He started to do good on missions and public interviews, so you could fuck him as an good job. He even began to look forward to coming over your house and even more secretly happy to be under you.

— You move his cape to the side and pull down the pants of his hero suit to fuck him right there and then. Numerous times you two fucked in the empty large office of the seven. 

— Whenever your fucking him senseless, his heat vision sometimes almost activates. His eyes glowing red as he is taking the hard pounding. He would let out moans and groans. Homelander mouth would hang open like some dog.

— He’s really bad at giving head. You’ll have to guide and talk him through it. His wet eyes slobbering all over your cock.

— People notice how he sometimes has an limp and the seven and other workers in Vought notice how he’s much more tame and has better manners then before. 

— Fucking him in front of a mirror and forcing him to watch himself getting fucked. You mocked and teased him about he’s supposed to be america’s hero and the only man in the sky the undefeated homelander enjoying having another man’s dick inside him. 

— Recording and taking pictures of him during sex turns him on. You talking about potentially blackmailing him in the future. His reputation in your hands. He doesn’t even try to cover his face or anything during the videos. Often laughed and moaned looking dead into the camera.

— Enjoys being your cumdump. He would sit on the floor or lay on the bed covered in your cum, as he beg and whine for more with his own cock in between his legs being hard as a rock.

— He would sometimes be incredibly covered in blood head to toe and the only thing he wants to do is to suck your cock. 

— He came in his hero suit before, you were mocking and taunting him calling him all sorts of things while tugging his hair and pushing him around. He doesn’t last long whenever your dirty talking to him. He can’t handle those words.

 — He’s truly pathetic for you. He would get on his knees and hump your legs while looking up at you begging you to fuck him. He would rub his boner against your legs and such. He would whine and grumble and began to imply that he will kill people if you don’t give in to his needs right now. 

— He sucks onto your nipples. He would grope and fondle with your pecs sucking your nipples and pinch and tug onto them. 

— The first time he came untouched and hands free from your cock inside him. He broke. 

— It made him realized that he only wanted you and only you. He frequently begged and asked more longer rounds and such. He would be bent over with his hands over his head shooting his white streaks of cum while you drive your cock inside him.

— You two fucking in empty alleyways in the middle of the day. 

— He would have random wet dreams about you, and also day dream about you fucking him during random times. He could be spacing out thinking about you jerking off his cock and dirty talking to him.

— You pressing him against a window and fucking him right there and then. Homelander loved the thrill. If anyone looked up they could see the Supe naked body pressed against the glass.

— Tying his hands behind his back and forcing him to choke and suck your cock while recoding him. 

— He ashamed since his guilty pleasure is that he wants a threesome. He wants you and some other man to ruin and fuck him at the same time. He wants to take both of you guys. He hasn’t told you about his wish but hopes it can come true one day.

THE END

[caws5749]

Hi, can you do nat x reader? Reader can walk through walls so the avengers hired her because she can be an asset to the group. What she's not telling them is she could see the red string of fate. She sees tony is connected to pepper, scott is connected to hope and etc. But she couldn't see hers that is until she met natasha

A/N: this is such an absolutely beautiful idea and I am so honored to be able to write this, this genuinely may be one of my favorite requests I have ever received

The music provided the perfect ambience for the scene. It was loud enough to be heard and felt, but quiet enough for conversations to be had. Voices came from every direction, some laughs floated above. The party was your first since joining the Avengers team.

You let your eyes wander about the room as you sat on the couch. Red, faint, glowing strings could be seen about the room. Some connected to another person at the party; some went out the window.

Your heart warmed seeing Tony and Pepper, their strings relatively short given the closeness between the two as they shared a private conversation. A smile tugged at your lips as your gaze fell to Hope and Scott. They were a bit further apart, their string a bit longer, glowing brightly under the lights. When they shared a loving look, you couldn't help but feel hopeful about your own life.

You couldn't see your string, you couldn't see your fate. But you could see everybody else's. Well, not everyone had one. Some people just didn't have someone they were to end up with. Some people's person wasn't here anymore, as sad as it was. Steve didn't have a string, but you knew at one point he certainly had. Natasha didn't have a string either. You weren't quite sure why. Perhaps she had had someone and they were here no longer. Or maybe she just didn't have someone and never would. Perhaps she wanted that. Perhaps she didn't.

You hadn't actually met the red-head yet. When you'd joined, she'd been gone on a mission and was supposed to return this evening. Perhaps you'd finally get to meet her. You found that she was often on your mind, for a reason you still hadn't figured out. It just seemed that no matter what you did, Natasha Romanoff was there.

But your ability to see that fate of lovers wasn't even why you were on the team. In fact, the team had no idea about that little gift at all.

You'd been hired for quite a different skill-set, one that even you couldn't quite seem to figure out why it happened. While it seemed odd to say, you could walk through walls, something that was incredibly useful for mission. You and Vision shared that little gift, and once it became apparent you could fight and were easy to train, they were happy to have you on the team. It helped that you often knew just how to pressure certain adversaries, possibly because you could see who they were connected to. You could see their weakness, as much as you hated to exploit it.

"There she is!" Clint's slightly intoxicated voice rose above the rest. You quickly looked in the direction of the doors, eyes going wide. Natasha Romanoff stood in the doorway, smirking slightly at her best friend, donning a skin tight black dress. She was practically glowing.

She moved into the room, her hips swaying. She seemed to move in slow motion. Her eyes quickly swept across the room, starting at the opposite side of the room and moving towards you. The Widow stopped in her tracks as her emerald eyes met yours. Her smile faltered, brief shock and an unknown emotion flickering across her face.

You felt a sort of pull, a tug and you looked down to see a red string emerge from your chest. You watched as it lengthened and met another string. Your breath caught as you saw that string had come from her. And while she had been practically glowing before, she was actually glowing now, a soft red hue surrounding her silhouette.

"Nat!" Clint yelled. She ignored him.

You stood from the couch and she switched her direction to you. You met in the middle.

"I'm Natasha. Why haven't I met you before?" she questioned softly.

"I'm Y/N. I just joined."

She hummed and tilted her head. You could tell she couldn't quite tell what was going on.

"Why do I feel... drawn to you?" You couldn't decipher if she had asked that rhetorically.

"It's a long story," you murmured. She quirked an eyebrow.

"I've got all night."

[moonstruckme]

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

steve harrington + friends to lovers maybe? definitely feeling lovesick steve rn 😮‍💨

Thanks for requesting lovely mal <3

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 698 words

The movie theater is dark, and yet Steve catches sight of you the second you step inside. His heart does a dumbass little somersault. 

“Y/n’s here?” he whispers to Robin, who’s sitting next to him and using her licorice as a straw. On his other side, Eddie’s kicked his feet up on the seat in front of him like a total asshole. 

“Oh, yeah.” Robin waves to you, and you spot them, heading over. “I invited her.” 

“You didn’t say she was coming.” 

Robin gives Steve a sideways glance. It’s tinged with a meaning he refuses to decode. “I didn’t realize I needed to check with you.” 

He huffs. You’re climbing the steps, still three rows from reaching them. “Move over by Eddie.” 

Robin turns towards him now, eyebrows raising. “You’re not serious.” 

“Go!” 

“Dingus.” She musses his hair spitefully as she stands, just so he’ll have to fix it, waving over her shoulder at you as you start shimmying down their row. 

You wave back, smiling bemusedly as you take her seat beside Steve. “Hey,” you say. 

“Hey.” He’s grinning like an idiot, and he can’t seem to stop. He wasn’t expecting to see you today. “Long time, no see.” 

You go a bit sheepish, the previews casting a red hue over your features. “Yeah, sorry. Work’s been keeping me busy lately. Three people quit at once, so everyone’s expected to cover until they can hire new ones.” 

Steve grimaces. “Yikes.” He has the urge to tell you to quit and let him pay for everything, as if that’s something he can fiscally manage or even remotely normal. “That sucks,” he says instead. 

“Yeah, hopefully it’s not for long.” You get comfy, slipping off your shoes and putting your socked feet up on the seat. Your knees lean onto your shared armrest, within a pinkie’s reach of Steve’s hand. “I actually just got off, I didn’t grab anything from concessions because I was worried I’d miss the beginning.” 

“Oh, no way.” The movie starts, and he lowers his voice but neither of you turn towards the screen. “Want me to run and grab you something?”

You give him a funny smile. It makes your cupid’s bow flatten out and Steve thinks that if he were to kiss you, he’d start there. “No,” you whisper, “you shouldn’t have to miss anything either.” 

“It’s okay,” he promises you. “I don’t even really care if I see this.” He has been looking forward to it ever since he saw the commercial, honestly, but he’s happy to miss it for you. 

“I’m fine,” you reply, “but thanks, Steve.” 

“At least have some of mine.” Eddie shushes him loudly, and Steve kicks the underside of his knee, making the other boy curse. “I’ve got coke and popcorn, that okay?” 

The movie glows blue over your face as you grin, eyes twinkling in the low light. “Classics. But I’m not gonna take your food.” 

“I’m not gonna eat it all,” Steve argues. “These are both extra-larges. You think I bought that all for myself?” He absolutely did. 

You lean in closer, your knees touching the side of his hand. “You paid for them,” you whisper. 

“So?”

“So, I’d feel bad.” 

“Then make it up to me.” Steve hopes he doesn’t look as nervous as he feels. He’s never been able to lay on the charm with you like he can with other girls, he doesn’t know why. Or maybe he does. “Come with us back to my place tonight. We’re ordering pizza.” 

“So,” you murmur through a smile, “make it up to you by taking more of your food, is what you’re saying.” 

“Uh-huh, exactly.” He takes a sip of his coke and then angles the straw in your direction. “Deal?” 

You drop your eyes for a second, shaking your head like he’s silly, and Steve knows he’s won even before you meet his gaze again. 

“Deal.” You wrap your lips around his straw, sucking in a mouthful before letting go. “You drive a hard bargain, Harrington.” 

Steve grins, laying bay in his seat and totally not thinking about how his pinkie is grazing your thigh. “Yeah, that’s what they tell me.”