#watching you sleep and touching your face with little criminal fingers

[britcision]

Anyway. This is why I finally put up the Heralds masterpost.

Because this whole idea was conceived and written at various 3ams, and it shows

Cole is just a sweet and creepy little man who likes to share his hobbies with his friends. Hobbies like watching you sleep

**

Sleepers

The first time, Lavellan was already standing over Solas’ sleeping form when Cole wandered into the elf’s bedroom.

Cole wasn’t specifically looking for either elf (although he’d been expecting to find Solas in one form or another), but it didn’t deter him. Not much did, even a direct instruction.

Lluciano glanced over at him for a moment, an acknowledgment that still sat warm and happy in Cole’s chest like sunlight. Then the elf’s bright green eyes returned to Solas’ sleeping form.

Solas liked sleeping. It let him wander into the Fade, travel secret roads and find old mysteries. Cole had always wondered if there was any way to see that in the body left behind.

Moving up beside Lavellan, the two regarded the sleeping elf together.

Maybe that was what Lluciano was doing here too. Lluciano didn’t like Solas as much as Cole did, but for once Cole almost understood that.

Solas didn’t like elves. Didn’t like the Dalish, who clutched at traditions he thought were all wrong, and didn’t like the city elves who’d become too close to human. And he wasn’t shy about showing it.

Solas did like Lluciano though; Luci challenged him, made him think about why he’d given up on all the Dalish. And Lluciano liked the spirits, which was pretty much Solas’ favourite thing about any person.

They’d gotten on much better once Solas stopped trying to speak down to him, but Lluciano hadn’t forgotten. And while he hadn’t been angry, or overly offended, or started a fight over it, there was something in him that was always cold to Solas.

That remembered having to prove against resistance that he was his own person, and should be treated like one.

Cole wondered what that would feel like too. Being so sure in your personhood, being able to put your foot down and demand to be treated in the way you wanted.

Of course, Lluciano wasn’t much good at the latter part yet either, but being around Cadash was a learning experience for both of them. Corin Cadash could put their foot down hard enough to shake Skyhold.

Cole had wandered the bedrooms plenty of times before. He didn’t sleep, and when that was what everyone else was doing, he didn’t have much else to occupy him.

He’d drift around, find the places where people were still up, some of them hot and wanting, others shaking and scared. Some reading, little snatches of stolen time by candle light.

Some just sleeping, lying there completely unaware of anything else in the world. Even less aware of his presence than everyone else, although sometimes they would react to him.

Some peoples’ faces would twitch if he watched them. Some people turned away. Buried themselves in covers, like even if he could hide from their waking selves, he couldn’t sneak past that little sleeping part.

That was interesting too, and Cole very much liked to watch the sleeping part. To see what disturbed them, wonder if it was himself or only their own dreams.

He could hear dreams, sometimes. Mostly the bad ones, the ones that came with shaking, shivering, screaming sounds strangled to silence.

Not Solas’ though. And Cole wasn’t sure if that was because Solas dreamed his way into the Fade, or just the sheer volume of the other hurts Solas always carried inside.

Solas was sleeping deeply tonight. Some nights, his face would twitch too, even in his Fade walking. Some nights he’d almost respond to Cole’s presence.

Cole knew he was much harder to notice than anyone else, than any of the real people who were flesh and not spirits pretending.

Harder than anyone except Lluciano Lavellan. Because the Fade magic in his hand and the sickness in his head had gotten all tangled together, and sometimes even Cole couldn’t see Lluciano.

Sometimes Lluciano didn’t even know he’d disappeared. He would just be invisible, or teleported away by the sudden spasms of a seizure.

So it made sense, really, that Solas hadn’t noticed him. Cole certainly hadn’t, and he didn’t know how long Lavellan had been there before he’d arrived. They could have almost been walking together.

Cole didn’t ask. That wasn’t nice; talking where other people were trying to sleep. He’d been told off for that a lot, now that he was travelling with other people.

He didn’t need to sleep, and could quite happily sit up for most of the night talking to Solas, Lavellan, Cadash, or Varric. Even the Iron Bull talked to him on watches, which was nice even if he was scared.

It made the scared smaller, and Cole was happy with that.

Until someone else would yell at them from the tents and tell them to shut up.

It wasn’t nice to talk when other people were sleeping, or to make noise, so Lavellan and Cole stood in comfortable, companionable silence side by side, both watching Solas sleep.

Neither of them wanted to disturb him. Solas probably needed to sleep more; that seemed inevitable. Most of Skyhold spent a lot of time complaining that they hadn’t slept enough, or longing for their beds.

You might think they would therefore appreciate having Cole’s presence there to watch them sleep, and ward away any loud noises or talking that would disturb them. Most of them didn’t though, so usually Cole made sure they couldn’t notice him.

Tonight, Lavellan was fully visible though, standing at Solas’ bedside as real as could be, so Cole copied him. Lavellan might not have known he was visible, but he usually wanted to be except in battle.

If he’d wanted to be unseen, Cole seeing him would have told him he’d failed. He’d had time to be less seen and hide, and he hadn’t.

So that meant it was probably okay. Solas didn’t like Cole to hide himself anyway; not from him. Solas always said that Cole was a good and gentle spirit, and anything he offered Solas would be grateful for.

It wasn’t what Cole knew was true about himself, but Solas was very sure, and it was nice to believe. Solas would notice if he were becoming a monster, although a deep down part of Cole knew that Solas would never stop Cole from hurting anyone else.

Solas didn’t think other people were worth as much as spirits. Cole couldn’t argue with him; Solas just wouldn’t listen, so there was no point.

Lavellan would. And if he wouldn’t kill Cole himself, he could get Cadash, and Cadash would kill anyone and anything they needed to. Especially if it would hurt Lavellan.

Cole didn’t know if he would hurt Lluciano, but he wasn’t going to assume he wouldn’t. He didn’t know how he’d think if he became a monster again.

But Cadash would stop him, even if they did call him self destructive and dramatic every time he asked, so it was alright. Nothing in the world could hurt Lluciano if Corin was around.

They had a very big shield with a special spring loaded part to make it even bigger just to be sure.

Lluciano wasn’t hurting tonight either. He did sometimes, when his body woke up without him in it and wandered the keep. Cole tried to follow him when that happened, just like when the seizures left him empty.

Tonight though, he was definitely all inside his body. Cole could feel the gentle hum beside him, knew his thoughts were buzzing around, but none of it was hurting.

Cole being there too was helping, which was nice. Just his presence being able to help without talking, or doing anything, or even touching was still a little new.

People knowing him, knowing he was there, and liking that he was there was warm too, soft and sweet like honey left in the sun. Not just the presence of another, the presence of Cole.

He was valued.

Lluciano wanted to touch Solas’ face.

The thought slipped in so softly, so gently that Cole might almost have mistaken it for one of his own, because… well, he did sometimes.

People didn’t like being touched when they were awake, not most of the time. And Cole always wanted to make people comfortable, so he listened solemnly to Josephine’s lectures and always let people touch him first, or tell him how they liked touching.

They didn’t mind when they were asleep though, and all the little skin hungers could be soothed so long as he was gentle enough not to wake them.

Faces especially fascinated Cole. They held onto expressions they weren’t making anymore, all the different lines and wrinkles from smiles and frowns.

He liked to trace them with his fingers, all the marks of past joys and sorrows. To feel them while they were flat and empty. And sometimes to feel the frowns deepen under his touch, lines becoming ridges.

People didn’t like him touching their faces most of all while they were awake, but most of them also needed the closeness of contact. They didn’t touch each other enough either, so touching them while they were asleep worked out best for everyone.

That way they could have the touch and feel better, and not be upset with him.

It was nice to know Lluciano felt the urge to touch too. He glanced over at Cole from the corner of his eye, and that small happy thing in Cole’s chest grew brighter as he realised.

Lavellan knew that Cole knew what he wanted to do. Talking without words, sharing just the feeling and knowing that Cole understood.

If only Cole could send a feeling back. To let Lavellan feel the way he felt, and know that Cole knew about the touching feeling too.

Solas definitely needed to be touched more.

It wasn’t the biggest ache that lingered, hungered under his skin, but it was worse than almost anyone else Cole had ever met.

He didn’t let himself touch anyone, and didn’t let them touch him either if he could help it. He didn’t want to get attached. Cole could understand that; when you got attached to people and they left, that hurt was the worst of all.

There was nothing that could fix it, or help. Just time to make the ache less.

But bodies had needs whether their owners liked them or not, and skin hungered to be touched no matter how much you wanted it not to.

He usually wound up touching Solas when he watched him sleep. Traced the long points of his ears. The harsh lines of his face.

The smooth, shiny skin on top of his head. Like the shell of a boiled egg, Sera said, but Cole had touched lots of eggs and they weren’t as soft. As smooth and with the same gentle give of flesh.

Solas liked Lavellan. He probably would like for Lluciano to touch his face, while he was asleep. Then he wouldn’t have to ask while he was awake.

He would have liked for Adaar to touch his face a lot more, and with her own face, but she wasn’t here. She couldn’t see well enough to watch people in the dark. Solas would have to ask her.

Lluciano was here now though.

Looking back at Lavellan for a moment, Cole did his best to convey his thoughts in his own face.

It didn’t have a lot of lines yet, because he hadn’t been living in it for very long. Varric told him his face was sad, all on its own, and Cole wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.

Lluciano looked at him, then back down at Solas. Back to Cole.

He really wanted to touch Solas’ face.

Cole tried a nod. Because yes, that was for agreeing. Lluciano should touch Solas’ face.

Lluciano grinned, teeth bright and white in the dark, and Cole felt himself smiling back. That was still strange too, the urge to smile when one of the heralds smiled at him.

When Varric smiled at him. Smiles were what happened when the warmth in his chest came up into his face, when he was happy and people were happy with him.

Lluciano was very happy with him, and with him being here. He nodded back, looked down at Cole’s hands.

Oh.

They could touch Solas’ face together. That would probably be even better than them touching his face separately, although they might get in each others’ way.

But then they could be touching each other too, and Cole could show Lavellan the way he liked to stroke along all the lines and wrinkles, and Lavellan would like it too.

Cole knew he would. Lluciano always liked learning about how people worked. And he liked faces, especially pretty ones like Dorian’s and Cullen’s.

They would have to get closer. Kneel down beside the bed together. Very close, shoulder to shoulder, or chest to chest, air warmed between them and sharing the sleeping time.

It was nice, not being alone.

**

A sudden, unshakeable feeling of wrongness snapped Solas abruptly from a deep sleep. Eyes jerking open, it took a moment for them to refocus on the real world, instead of the paths he’d been walking.

He was in his room, at the base of tower. Tucked away from his study. Dark, only the light from a brazier in the hall flickering.

He’d closed the door when he came to bed.

Someone had opened it.

Someone was still there.

Eyes darting about the room, Solas was about to sigh in resignation when he realised that there were two shadowy figures standing over his bed, not just the one.

Eyes narrowing, he pushed himself up on one shoulder and frowned up at the pair. Cole’s long, lanky limbs, as expected. And…

Lavellan.

Lluciano Lavellan was standing with Cole, both of them watching him sleep.

Because of course they were. Why wouldn’t that be another thing for the two of them to bond over. They already liked sneaking around.

Letting out the sigh, suddenly with infinitely more weight and feeling infinitely more tired, Solas flopped back onto his bed, eyes resolutely closed.

“This is not going to be my problem,” he declared firmly, and even his senses, strained in the dark and otherwise silent room at the base of the tower, barely picked up the sounds of the two moving away.

He would have asked Josephine about a lock for his door, if he didn’t already know Lavellan enjoyed lock picking.

Maybe a bucket trap instead.

“The bucket will only fall if I want it to. I don’t want it to disturb you.”

Solas’ eyes snapped open again at Cole’s simple, slightly confused sentence, and Lluciano’s cackling laughter.

He lay in the dark for a long time, but he didn’t sleep again that night.

**

You know it’s a good fic when someone has to keep putting it down because they’re laughing to hard to read it… or maybe that’s the 3am talking, right @ekwolfwood?

I warned you I would be insufferable about Cole

Behold! The master post!

[promisingyounglady]

go back to bed. | JP x Reader

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Pregnant Wife!Reader

SYNOPSIS: after a difficult nights work, javier just wants to patch himself up in peace. of course, you’re not gonna have it.

WC: 1.3k

WARNINGS: mdni! reader is afab, no y/n, mentions of pregnancy, weapons, javi getting mildly hurt, profanity, suggestiveness, little bit of angst but a lot of sweetness too;(

AUTHORS NOTE: reblogging and feedback is appreciated

The sound of running water is what wakes you up.

Your vision’s blurry from sleep, but you still make out the dimly lit room, a sliver of light peeking through the crack of the bathroom door. The sound of crickets chirping softly outside tells you it’s the early hours of the morning.

You hear shuffling, the obnoxious sound of objects hitting your tiles, and a quiet string of mumbled curses that you know belong to him.

“Mierda”

You blink softly, sitting up from your warm covers as your senses come together. More clanging of objects and a pair of scissors falling to the floor follows, and this time you paddle softly to the door, a shiver going up your back from only wearing a thin, white cotton nightgown.

You squint gently, pushing the door just enough so that you could confirm it was Javier.

“Fucking cheap ass bandages” you hear him mutter under his breath, struggling to cut the cloth with scissors, using his teeth instead.

With his broad back facing you, you make out a disordered array of disinfectant alcohol, medical supplies and gauze on your bathroom counter. You cross your arms, worried as you step closer.

Javi looks tired in his mirror reflection, brows furrowed and moustache in a frown as you watched your husband struggle with bandaging a fairly large cut on his right hand.

Your eyes widened at the blood.

”Javier.”

Javi looks up in the mirror, caught red-handed (quite literally) in the act of secretly bandaging his bloody hand so his very protective, and might he add, very pregnant wife didn’t freak out.

You stepped forward into the bathroom light, your large bump peeking through the nightgown you wore.

“Go back to bed, querida” he quickly says, hunched as he tries his best to hide the blood stained tissues beside him from your gaze. You sighed, knowing why Javi doesn’t like showing you.

“Ay, Javier” You spit harshly, waddling over as you scolded your tall husband who stands timid underneath your concerned gaze.

You snatched the rubbing alcohol from his hand. “You really want to make your pregnant wife mad by sneaking around with cuts and bruises?” It’s now your turn to furrow your brows and inspect his bleeding hand, shaking your head as you saw his fugle attempts at bandaging it up.

“Do you even stop to think how I feel when I see you get hurt like this?” You exclaimed, glaring at the man.

You see the pair of medical scissors lying on the bathroom floor, a few tissues and bloodied cloths with it. Despite being six months pregnant, you tried to pick up the objects, a hand against your back in support as you awkwardly shifted down.

Javier already feels too guilty that his heart hurts even more when he sees you struggle to perform basic activities. “Querida, querida, stop” he quickly bends down, swiftly picking up the lying tool with his left hand and putting it on the counter before you could.

You straightened your back, sighing at the sight of your husband on his knees, picking up the bandages as well as evidence of another one of his violent encounters with criminals as a DEA agent.

“I’m fine, I promise mi amor.” He reassures you softly, trying to say something that could make you use a different tone than the one you’re using one with him. “I bandaged it up earlier, but it just unraveled so-“

As Javi is eye-level with your stomach, you softly run your fingers through his hair, feeling his words stop and body tense at the action for a split second before melting into your touch. Javi shuts his eyes, pressing his forehead against your stomach and giving you and your child a kiss.

At least he was home. At least he was here with you.

“I know.” he breathes out amongst the silence. “I’m sorry honey.”

Hm, is all you reply in return, acknowledging that your husband knows he was wrong to give his pregnant wife such a scare in the middle of the night.

Javi looks up at you, big brown eyes searching for forgiveness in your own.

“I tried to be careful, I really did. But then the guy pulled out a knife, and-“

Your eyes widened softly before an unsettling feeling resided in your chest. Thinking of your husband being so dangerous to protect his country was conflicting. But it was for his people. As well as you and your child.

”Get up, carino” you say firmly.

Javier pauses, sighing as he obliged to your every word like it was his command.

Now your husband looms over you, right hand facing upwards with his makeshift bandages, as his left gently touches your back, pulling you closer to him.

You try not to let the endearing action cause your heart to flutter. You weren’t letting him slide so easily.

You bite your lip, frustrated at the fact that Javier continued to go on dangerous chases and stakeouts to catch Escobar, meanwhile you were sitting at home everyday with a dull ache in your heart as you envisioned your child not getting the chance to meet their father.

But seeing the bags under Javi’s eyes, along with the way he lowers his head quietly, you sigh and grab the stained cloth on the edge of counter. In silence, you took his large, rough hand into your soft one and patched his cut.

Javi knows better than to say anything at the moment. Instead he promises something you know he means more than actually committing. “I’ll be more careful”

You pressed the rubbing alcohol firmly in his wound, causing him to wince slightly.

“Damn right you’ll be” you mutter, protectively helping your husband.

Javier smiles at your actions, an overwhelming sense of love filling his heart.

“Murphy almost got shot if it makes you feel better”

You pause from cleaning up the medical supplies and his newly bandaged. You looked into your husbands eyes, pure shock and horror.

“By our boss, carino” Javier smiles. “The targets got away because Murphy was dumb enough to- AY“

You drown the sounds of your husbands laughter and words with a smack to the back of his head, cursing at him under your breath as you left the washroom with pursed lips.

Javier didn’t need to take many long strides to catch up to you, wrapping his arms around your belly, latching onto your sides and laughing as he tried to hold onto your tiny but furious form.

”es broma hermosa, I didn’t mean to-“

”Have fun sleeping on the couch, Peña” you swatted his hands away. Javier locks eyes with your waddling form before holding on to you and spinning you around swiftly in strong arms. Now standing in the dim bedroom, with your belly close to his body and noses almost touching, he looks at you with a hope of forgiveness in his crinkled eyes. The distance makes you hate him even more.

“It’s a joke my love, I’m sorry” he says grinning stupidly like a fool, only wanting to have seen you smile. You smack his chest hard, glaring up at him. “You’re an idiot, I hope you get shot next time”

Javier roars with laughter, unable to take your venomous words seriously when you looked so innocent and cute in his arms. In order to apologize, Javier bends down to kiss your lips.

However, you’re stubborn and shift your face away, trying your hardest not to smile as Javier tries to show his love to you.

“Javi! I hate you” you exclaimed, the pregnancy hormones making you meaner than you really were.

Your husband doesn’t mind at all, not when he cheekily sneaks a hand under your slip and grabs the soft mound of your breast. The action makes you gasp, Javier grinning in victory when you finally let your lips press into his.

God, did this man drive you insane.

[shotmrmiller]

singlemom!reader au~

Pathetic!Simon purposefully gets sick. He's seen the way you coddle your baby, and he wants a sliver of that attention.

(i will not go into detail on what he does, but be aware that temperature doesn't make you sick, bacteria and viruses do. good luck.)

Once sick, he covers his face with a black surgical mask and waits around the time you come home to step out, hoping to catch you in the lift.

Bingo.

"Oh my god, forgive me for saying so, but you look like death." He'd huff out a chuckle if he didn't also feel like it.

He can feel his throat itch, a tight pressure in his chest, and a wet cough claws out of his throat. Simon tips his head and moves to go around you but you're swiftly grasping his hand, dragging him back down the hallway.

"Absolutely not, you are not walking around like a living dead while this ill."

He's dizzied off of your touch, the small hand in his larger one slamming his pathetic, little heart against his ribs.

"Even your hand is hot to the touch! You, sir," a jingle of house keys as they're inserted into the lock, "are getting some much-needed rest. The baby is with her grandmother today, so it'll be just us."

He can't be blamed for the way his cock stirs at the thought of being alone with you. This is better than what he'd expected, truthfully speaking. Simon had just wanted your sympathy, maybe even a cup of homemade soup but this?

"Come, shoes off." He toes off his new balances as he watches you take off your coat, hanging both on the rack.

You flick your eyes to him and that look you give him makes his cock twitch. Your brows are furrowed, a worried look reflected in your pretty eyes, the corners of your beautiful lips pulled down.

Pity. His loins are on fire. You pity him, and he loves it.

"Simon, I think we should lie you down." Your fingers grab his own, leading him toward your bedroom.

Everything happens in a blur, maybe he's gone and gotten a little too sick, but it's all worth it when you tuck. him. in.

Unfolding the covers that lay on the foot of the bed, you gently pull it until it sits just under his chin.

"Right, you get some sleep and I'll make you some chicken soup. I've luckily got all the ingredients in the fridge already."

Would it be too much to ask for a kiss on the forehead?

The door softly clicks shut and he unloops the masks from around his ears and breathes in.

Your blanket smells like you— a heady, musky vanilla with an underlying twang of lavender.

His head spins, it's so rich in your scent, his painfully hard cock straining against the zipper of his trousers. His imagination runs wild as he fists it and presses it right under his nose, inhaling noisily.

Do you sleep shirtless under this blanket? Does it have the privilege of feeling your bare, soft skin?

He's always known that he's a bit insane, especially with his borderline criminal behavior, but what he does next, he really hopes you don't blame him for.

Simon pulls down his trousers just a bit and fists his cock from over the blanket— the touch as close as he's ever going to get from you.

He's been aroused since you laid eyes on him on the lift, the almost disappointed face you gave him was almost too much. Simon loves it, any attention is worse than none, but his spine tingles when you, and only you, look at him like he's a pitiful cur.

A stray dog that limps around, scrounging for food around the streets, tugging at the heart strings of others.

Sublime.

He curls into himself as he nears his peak, the material of your blanket sodden with his pre-cum, a souvenir of his time here.

And then your footsteps are outside of your door, your knuckles rapping on it.

"You need anything from me, Simon?"

Oh, love. Give him everything.

He choked out his negative, which you luckily mistook as him having a small coughing fit but in reality, your dulcet voice sent him careening over the edge at neck-break speed— gooey, viscous cum spurting into your blanket.

Simon's teeth audibly grind, keeping back any noises that want to claw out of his sore throat.

Drawing in a big gulp of air, his body loosens, sinking into the mattress as his eyelids begin to feel heavy.

Now, he can sleep.

He sincerely hopes this blanket is your favorite.

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

Alone

Pairing: Hokage!Kakashi x f!Reader

Summary: Kakashi comes home late, to find that you left a note stating that you want to be left alone.

W/c: 1k (she bite-sized but I love her)

Warnings: Swearing, Kakashi's possessive and worries a lot

A/n: this one is entirely based off of this Frog and Toad story, so I only felt it was right to include the picture from the story's resolution. y'all know i just adore this man as hokage. lmk if this sucks, yk, the usual.

Masterlist💿

It had been another long day for the new Hokage. He was tired, he was stiff, and all he wanted was a kiss from you. He should have given you ten more kisses than he actually had given you, this morning - but, he was rushing, he had an early meeting.

Fuck, what an idiot. He should've been seizing every moment he had to kiss you, but he didn't, not this morning. He was being a terrible husband.

What if you thought so, too? What if you were feeling neglected, or, worse, unloved? What if that was the reason why you left such a cryptic, worrisome note for him to find when he got home?

Dear, Kakashi, I am not at home. I went out. I want to be alone. Y/n

He put the prettily penned note back onto the console table and shed his official robes. They were getting hot. The entire foyer of your home was getting hot.

Turning back to the door, Kakashi opened it back up with a shaking hand.

"Alone?" He murmured to himself as he shut it, again. As he walked away from the Red House, Kakashi scoffed, "Why does she want to be alone?"

Trekking away from the house, he wracked his brain, conjuring up a list of places you may be.

So, he started simple.

And he thanked the stars he hadn't checked anywhere else, first.

There, you laid, way out in the middle of a very wide pond, just North of Hokage Rock, in a little valley filled with flora, fauna, and the like.

A huge, grey rock held you above the water, just high enough so that the small ripples in the pond, caused by the frogs and little fish, didn't bother your sleeping form at all. Dragon flies zipped about you, only gracing you with a small bit of wind, and hardly a tickle or aggravation. Thin, weaning rays of sunlight passed through the tree line as the ball of fire made it's descent of the sky. They painted you with little golden dots, just over the long pants and tank top you had on.

Kakashi, almost, didn't want to wake you.

Almost.

Walking atop the water's surface, Kakashi strode over to you carefully, making sure not to make any undue splashes. As he walked, he berated himself.

Because you could have been sleeping, at home. You could have been doing this within the sanctity of your home, not out, where someone could just grab you. Shit, see a pretty lady, in the middle of a fucking pond, unconscious? Kakashi's instinct would be to help, even if he didn't know her - but there were some bad characters, who would not be so inclined. Why couldn't you just be a little more mindful of that? Kakashi worried about you, and your safety, and your health, but you didn't seem the least at all concerned.

Approaching you near silently, Kakashi ran his index finger down the inside of your arm, feeling the tender flesh as you twitched so preciously.

Fuck - the reason why you didn't care about you was because you didn't know how much he cared about you. That had to be it. He was underserving you, and that was just fucking criminal.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispered, watching your eyes slowly open as he continued to tickle your arm.

You blinked and a smile rose to your face, it almost confused Kakashi.

Slowly, you sat up and shirked his touch in favour of a stretch. It almost bothered Kakashi, but he was very aware that he was in no position to be bothered by something so trivial.

"What are you sorry for, Kakashi?" You asked after a yawn, that same little grin on your lips as you looked into his eyes with a sparkle in yours.

A little embarrassed to be made to say it aloud, Kakashi scratched the back of his neck. Oh, grow the fuck up - apologize to your wife like a proper man, or else she'll resent-

"I'm sorry for treating you so poorly," he began, much to your surprise. Your smile continued to inch off of your face as he went on, "I've been so consumed with the duties of being Hokage, that I've been neglecting you. The last thing I want is for you to be unhappy. I shouldn't have..."

You were laughing.

So quietly, a small snicker, a little giggle.

"I'm not unhappy, Kakashi," you grinned, shaking your head a tad.

"Then why did you want to go out, and be alone?" He asked, voice dipped in bewilderment.

Your smile had returned to simply rest on your face as you looked at him. Gently, you shrugged, and told him, "This morning, when I woke up, I felt good, because the sun was shining. I felt good, because I'm your wife. And I felt good, because I know I'm so, very loved. I wanted to be alone, so I could think about how wonderful everything is. That was all in the morning, and I had a very long meditation on this rock, then took an even longer nap. I wasn't aware of the time, and I thought I'd be home earlier- that you'd never even read the note."

Quietly, Kakashi sat down on the rock with you, knees suddenly weak. He had to take a few breaths, but, even then, he couldn't stop looking into your eyes.

Your beautiful eyes.

They didn't call him a fool, nor did they judge him for overthinking anything.

"Oh," he said lowly, after some time had passed. "I suppose that's a very good reason to want to be alone."

You just laughed, and stretched again, before standing atop the water. Extending your hand to him, you purred, "And now, I am glad to not be alone. Let's go home, and make dinner - I'm starved."

Kakashi took your hand gingerly. He stood and twirled you so that his arm rested on your shoulder naturally, as you maintained your hold of his hand. Bringing you close to his side, Kakashi just sighed contently, "I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you, Kakashi," you smiled up at him. "You really are a spectacular husband."

[mirrology]

— Rowdy .ᐟ ☆

୨୧ rowdy: ( noun) a noisy and disorderly person. (adjective) noisy and disorderly.

Ft. boothill, gender neutral reader. platonic. Wc: 722

Content: short bit of hc's and a small fic at the end, readers age is not specified, boothill being a little shit, he cares abt u tho, typical sibling shenanigans, sibling bonding, cursing, boothill may be ooc.

A/n: first ever platonic boothill fic /j, also this is kinda lazy but whatever.

He would definitely be one of those annoying brothers that come into your room just to look at you, then leave without closing the door.

but he genuinely cares about you and your safety considering his job as a galaxy ranger.

Boothill also definitely calls you runt, squirt, & kid no matter how old you are or no matter how much you complain.

Frequently ruffles your hair as a sign of affection, although this ends in bickering when you do your hair before it.

Definitely can't cook for shit, every time he tries to make something for you out of the kindness of his heart, he absolutely wrecks it.

It ends up burnt and inedible, and a purple aura around in a cartoonish fashion. and oh, the poor kitchen, you can't count how many times you've had to fix something. it has gone through a lot.

The two of you have sleepovers where you do skincare, watch movies and gossip about anything and everything.

you would think that Boothill is more of a horror movie and/or action movies type guy but he has a soft spot for sappy romance movies and the saddest films possible.

and if you feel like it, both of you talk about your love life.

Trains you by sparring in hand-to-hand combat, he usually wins the sparring, but you've gotten close to beating him.

After your training session you flop on the floor like a dead fish and beg him to carry you back inside, he obliges but not before teasing you for falling to the ground.

he picks you up in a princess carry or in a piggy back ride.

Boothill gives you things at the most random times, "oh but it's not a holiday or anything special today!" you can say but he won't care. accept his gift.

If you just as much glance at something in a store for 1 millisecond you'll find said thing in a gift bag with a little note, handwritten by him.

Since he's part robot he can't drink water or even touch it or he will malfunction, even though he's made to sustain the harsh weather of the desert and attacks from the criminals he hunts down.

so if he's being stubborn and does go through with touching water, you're the one who (quite literally) brings him back to life.

and because of this you've become well-versed in technology. you constantly fix anything that is wrong, such as a jammed finger. Although can't seem to get rid of that swear filter that he's unfortunately stuck with.

Overall Boothill is a very fun elder brother who wants to keep you safe.

You woke up to the feeling of being moved from your spot on your desk. you had been working on one of your tech projects, spending hours on end tinkering away in your room. You cracked one eye open, sleep pulling at your eyes, wanting them to close one more. You were met with the familiar face of your brother above you. then you registered the feeling of his hand on your back and underneath your knees.

Boothill noticed your sleepy gaze on him, and he smiled cheekily, "Heya, runt. I see ya' woke up" he chuckled in amusement at your disheveled appearance. He laid you down on your bed and placed the covers over your body, you immediately sank into your mattress and the soft feeling of the blanket on top of you was making you sleepier.

"Jeez, how long have ya' been up?" His smile dropped a little as he noticed a faint outline of dark circles underneath your eyes. "dunno..." you slurred out and turned to your side, facing him. "Hey, big bro?" you quietly said, Boothill raised an eyebrow "yea?" he asked.

You softly grinned, "Love ya'" you said, then suddenly being interrupted by a yawn. there was silence as your eyes drooped and eventually closed as you fell into a deep slumber.

Boothill stared at your sleeping face, it wasn't exactly surprising that you had said that you loved him. It was just that you didn't say it often, it wasn't that you didn't want to. Boothill's schedule is almost always full, so spending time with him can be hard. A rare soft smile graced his features and he reached over to caress your head.

"I love ya' too, kid." He whispered.

[sapphire-writes]

Our Last Summer (modern!HOTD)

part 3 of 10 || series masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: The gang comes to Luke's aid when he needs to find a new boat. You and Aemond continue to be at each other's throats.

word count: 4.9k

warnings below the cut!

warnings: sensual themes, language, drinking, smoking the devil's lettuce (general substance use warning)

note: thank you for all the love so far! I appreciate it so very much!

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

The clouds cleared from the stormy previous night, leaving the sky free of clouds and the sun reflecting over the choppy surf of Blackwater Bay. You’d found sleep easily, soothed by the splashing rain against the windows of High Tide. 

You’d fallen asleep in Baela’s room after binge-watching Criminal Minds together (something you first bonded over when you became roommates at university together). You don’t open your eyes yet, even though you can feel the warmth of sunlight on your face. You’re content to try to sleep a little longer until the vibrations of Baela’s phone begin next to you.

You open your eyes a smidge, peering through your lashes at the screen. Rhaena’s name and face light up Baela’s phone. A cute picture of her smiling holding a pale snake around her neck, its face pressed against hers with its pink-forked tongue tickling her cheek.

“Bae,” you murmur, nudging your friend. She groans, turning to face you, peering at her phone. Rhaena’s face disappears as the call remains unanswered.

“She probably wants to go on a run or something,” Baela mumbles, “Or try to guilt me into a family beach trip.”

Rhaena calls again and Baela lets out an irritated whine. 

She slides a finger over the screen, and Rhaena appears on the screen. Her violet eyes are wide, and it looks like she has just woken up as well; a pink silk bonnet hides her silver locs. 

“What d’you want?” Baela mumbles at her sister.

“Get up,” Rhaena says, in a half whisper, “Get up, get up, and get to Dragonstone!”

“Ew. No,” Baela says, scrunching her nose in distaste, “Why?”

“Dudes, you need to get over hear,” Helaena’s voice is heard offscreen. Baela’s head rises from her pillow and she grabs the phone, angling it so you can see.

“Hel there?” Baela asks, as more voices can begin to be heard in the background. You share a confused glance with Baela. 

“You want some drama?” Helaena snickers, coming into the frame and squeezing her face next to Rhaena’s. Shouting echoes from the room they’re in. Baela glances at you again, with a ‘what the fuck?’ expression on her face.

“.....your fault you fucking psycho!” Luke’s voice rings, breaking as though he may be crying through his yells.

Baela’s eyes widen and she glances at you, scooting closer so you can both peer over her phone. 

“Maybe if you paid better attention you wouldn’t have-” Aemond’s voice carries through the speaker, a taunting, musical quality to the words he speaks. 

“What the fuck?” Baela says, muting herself, “What the fuck are they talking about?”

You can hear the arguing in the background, and see Helaena grab the phone from Rhaena, smiling at you and Baela before shoving it in her pocket. You can hear the muffled conversation.

“You’re blaming me? Seriously? You came outta fucking nowhere in that old piece of shi-” Luke chokes on the words, “That ship is fucking huge!”

“You shouldn’t have been out in the stupid little dingy anyway,” Aemond’s voice carries, and you feel your face begin to burn with anger at his condescending tone directed at Luke. 

“It’s too fucking late in the season-”

“Use Vermax-

“No way my trip!” Jace’s voice barely carries through, “You’re not TOUCHING my boat-”

“Shut up!”

Baela unmutes herself then.

“Rhae!” she calls, “Hel!”

Helaena’s hand enters her pocket, and she brings the phone to her face. She motions to Rhaena as the yelling continues, moving to a different room.

“What the fuck are they talking about?” you ask when the yelling has quieted down.

“Aemond sank Luke’s boat last night,” Rhaena tells you, “It’s completely destroyed. Unsalvageable.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, lips parting in shock. Baela lets out a laugh in disbelief.

“He sunk Luke’s boat? Why would he do that?” you ask and Baela rolls her eyes.

“Please, we’re lucky he didn’t kill him,” she argues, and Helaena laughs.

“Don’t count your eggs before they’ve hatched cuz,” Hel murmurs, “It’s a bloodbath in there.”

“They’ve got another boat he can sail, don’t they?” Baela asks.

“I don’t think so,” Rhaena says, shaking her head, “Unless you’re talking about..”

“I mean…..that’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Baela interrupts. The twins are silent for a moment until Helaena speaks.

“Okay, I'm usually great at reading the room, but even I’m lost,” she says, and you laugh. 

“Me too, Hel,” you tell her. 

Baela sits up in bed sighing dramatically.

“Bring Jace and Luke, meet us at Hulls in an hour,” she instructs.

Rhaena agrees and you end the call. You watch Baela carefully, her expression is grim.

“What’s at Hull?” you ask curiously.

“My uncle’s boat,” she tells you, “Seasmoke.”

Turns out Hull was referring to a person rather than a place. Well, two people. Addam and Alyn Hull, two brothers who manage a boat rental service on Driftmark. When you and Baela arrive at the docks you’re greeted by a weathered sign that reads Hull Boat Rentals.

Luke, Jace, and Rhaena are there when you arrive. Luke’s eyes are red, along with his nose. He’s clearly been crying for most of the morning. Jace looks furious beside him and Rhaena smiles tentatively as you approach. 

Baela pulls Luke into a hug immediately, and the younger boy wraps his arms around her. 

“I’m glad you’re okay, but I’m sorry about Arrax,” Baela tells him, squeezing him tightly. 

Luke mumbles his thanks and Baela releases him. She glances around the dock, looking at the boats lined up, rocking gently with each passing wave. 

“I called Addam,” Rhaena tells her, “He’s still got some options, and Seasmoke too if that’s what we’re thinking.”

“I don’t know…” Luke says, eyes watery, “Maybe we can look around?”

“Of course, we can,” Jace agrees.

You’re greeted by Addam Hull a few minutes later; he’s a strapping young guy in jean cutoffs and a white tank top that’s seen better days. He’s covered in sweat and grease but that doesn’t dull the award-winning smile he’s got on his face. 

“We’ve got a lot of options still,” Addam assures Luke, “Mostly our older schooners. Not many people rent for the regatta.”

Luke’s crestfallen expression remains as you view the available boats. You love how each one has its own name, its own personality really. Luke spends extra time on one called Grey Ghost but shakes his head when Addam asks if he likes it. 

“I think we should look at…” Jace trails off. Luke frowns deeply, as though he was trying to avoid the situation. 

“I’ve been taking good care of it,” Addam says softly to Luke. 

“Okay,” Luke decided, “Let’s see it.”

Seasmoke is a massive sailboat, bigger than the ones you’ve seen so far. The hull is painted a pale silver-gray that reflects the light from the top of the water. It’s missing the mainsail, and seems to have been used for storage rather than sailing for the last several years. 

Luke walks over to it, placing his hand on the hull. Barnacles have begun to take over and he runs his fingers along the rough surface. 

“How long has she been out of commission?” Luke asks, and Addam shrugs.

“A while,” he tells him. Jace shares a concerned glance with Baela. Luke sighs, dropping his hand from the hull. Jace walks up next to him.

“Remember when Dad took us out for the first time? How we ended up in the Stepstones?” Jace says, smiling at his brother. Luke chuckles slightly.

“I remember you peeing your pants because he told us there were pirates that would get us,” Luke says with a smirk. 

“It wasn’t funny!” Jace argues and you can’t help but laugh along with them. It's the first time Luke has smiled today. It wavers slightly as he looks at Seasmoke again.

You can’t imagine what’s going on in his head. It sounds like no one has sailed Seasmoke since Laenor left town. Even though you know there’s history there, that Rhaenyra had an affair with Harwin Strong, it sounds like Laenor was truly their dad. Luke’s eyes are melancholic, and he touches the hull again. 

“Okay,” he says softly, “We’ll use Seasmoke.”

You slap the mop against the deck of the ship watching the water spread and turn brown almost immediately. Sheesh. This is going to be a lot of work. Luke sits miserably on the edge of the boat, his head hanging. Rhaena sits next to him, bumping her shoulder against his. He had hope in the beginning, but as the hours ticked by he became more frustrated with the large task at hand. 

“It’s pointless,” Luke says softly, sniffling and rubbing his nose, “It’s going to take too long… it's not worth it.” He shakes his head, eyes trained on the deck. 

“With our help, it’ll get done faster than you think,” Rhaena insists, “And then you can practice and everything will be fine.”

Luke shakes his head, unconvinced. “We need sails. Fuck- I don’t even think they make the kind Dad used…with that stupid…what’s it called? For the jib?” He sighs again. Rhaena glances at you and you begin to chew your lower lip.

“Whatever you need, Luke,” you tell the younger boy, “We’ve got your back.”

Even Helaena had joined to help assist Luke with prepping Seasmoke. She’d come dressed in overalls, hair pulled out of her face ready to get to work. 

“I can call Iron Islands,” Jace tells him, “Place an order for the sails, they have all that shit.”

“That’s hours away,” Luke moans, placing his head in his hands, “And who knows if they have any left, it’s prime sailing season-”

“Mr. Negative!” Helaena chastises, “What don’t you understand?” She walks over to squat in front of him, placing a comforting hand on his knee, “We’ve got this Luke. You worry about driving this bad boy, we’ll worry about the rest.”

Jace smiles and then glances past you, a frown appearing on his face.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he mumbles, and you follow his gaze to someone walking down the dock. 

Aemond comes into view and a familiar surge of anger rushes through you as you walk down the ramp and off of Seasmoke. Aemond slows his purposeful gait when he sees you, his lip curling upwards as he comes to a halt.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Came to see the damage,” he says.

“Haven’t you done enough?” you snap.

“It was an accident,” Aemond insists, “Not my fault the little twerp can’t sail.”

“You’re such a prick,” you tell him, “I hurt your ego that much, you go for attempted murder?”

“Luke can swim,” Aemond says with a shrug.

“You really don’t fucking feel bad, do you?” you ask in disbelief.

“As I said, an accident,” he says, continuing to walk by you.

“Where are you going?”

“Onto the boat.”

“Well don’t!”

“Like I want to be stuck with you all day,” he retorts, “Not my choice.”

Luke looks up as you come aboard, rolling his eyes.

“The fuck you want?” he snaps.

“Mom insisted,” Aemond says, looking around the deck, “This is the one you chose?”

“It was the best option,” Rhaena says, defending Luke. 

Aemond purses his lips together, a smug smile creeping onto his face. “Interesting choice is all.”

“Why’s that?” Jace asks, squeezing his hands into fists by his side. Baela moves toward him, as Aemond shrugs. 

“Let’s go start cleaning out the lower deck,” she encourages, pushing him toward the entrance. Jace disappears below deck and Baela grimaces at you.

Helaena walks over to her brother, who tosses her a tube of sunscreen. “Mom told me to bring you that,” he tells her, following her to the other side of the deck.

“Am I totally ruining your summer?” she asks, pouting at you. You can tell this was not what Baela had planned. But you can’t find it in you to feel anything but sympathy for Luke. It wasn’t his fault this happened.

“Not at all,” you assure her, “I want to help!” 

Baela smiles, and even Luke looks up, sparing a small, pained smile. 

The days tick by and though it doesn’t feel like it, you’re making some progress. Baela and Jace spent the majority of time clearing out below deck and Aemond (to avoid more confrontation) made himself useful focusing on scraping the barnacles off of the sides of Seasmoke. 

Scrubbing the starboard bow with Baela, another girl joins you later in the week. She introduces herself as Sara Snow, a childhood friend of Baela and Rhaena’s. She’s also incredibly kind enough to bring you all lunch from the Wolf’s Den, her family’s restaurant a few blocks away. She even brings Aemond something, tossing him a takeaway bag that he stains with his grease-stained hands. 

He doesn’t join you on deck to each, choosing to sit by himself on the dock. Jace joined a solemn Luke below deck. 

“I cannot believe he fucking did that,” Sara whispers, after hearing the whole story about what happened to Arrax, “The fucking nerve of that guy.”

“That’s Aem,” Helaena says, leaning her back against Sara’s, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of her nose. She reaches down her shirt revealing a tightly rolled joint, bringing it to her lips as she digs in her pockets looking for a lighter. 

Sara opens her purse, finding one easily as Hel struggles, passing it back to her friend. Hel murmurs a thank you around the joint before lighting it. 

“Has he always been like this?” you ask, unable to help yourself. Aemond Targaryen gets under your skin. 

“Like what?” Hel says, coughing slightly, passing the lit joint to Baela. She takes a long drag, closing her eyes. 

“Like an ass,” you clarify and Helaena chuckles. 

Sara smirks, something you don’t fail to notice. 

“What?” you ask and she shakes her head. 

“I don’t know what happened to him, to be honest,” Sara tells you, “Back in high school, Aemond was just like this nerdy guy. Always polite, even on the verge of sweet.”

Baela nods in agreement. 

“Then he goes off to college and comes back a total prick,” she says, reaching for a french fry, “I mean, he’s always been a bit of a prick but he switched it up to being a complete douche.”

“And that whole thing with Floris…” Sara says, raising her eyebrows. 

“They’re not doing that anymore,” you tell them, and they all stare, “I kind of walked into the middle of their breakup.”

Sara snorts out a laugh. 

“Aemond doesn’t date,” Sara clarifies, “He took a page from Aegon’s book.”

“Ew,” Rhaena says, shuddering. She shakes her head as Baela offers her the joint. Sara plucks it from her fingers, taking a drag.

“At least Aegon doesn’t shit where he eats,” Helaena defends, “He keeps his drama away from King’s Landing.”

“Remember when he was with Cece Lannister?” Sara says, still on her Aemond train of thought, “Man, that was dramatic.”

Helaena groans. “Please don’t mention Cece. Mom is still trying to regrow the rose bushes she set on fire,” she says, shaking her head.

Your eyes widen. 

“She set your house on fire?”

“Just the rose bushes,” Helaena assures. Unsurprisingly, this fact doesn’t comfort you.

“You wanna know what I heard?” Sara says, handing you the joint.

You’ve smoked before, casually, throughout your time at college. You nod, encouraging Sara to continue, placing the joint between your lips and inhaling the sweet smoke. 

“I heard he had an orgy with all the Baratheon girls,” Sara says, lowering her voice considerably. 

Helaena slams her hands over her ears and begins screaming, you jump in surprise at the sudden high-pitched sound. You cough, the joint nearly slipping from your fingers as you double over. Rhaena’s jaw is on the floor and Baela is shaking her head violently. 

“They’re sisters!” Rhaena hisses, trying to stop Helaena’s screams, “Biologically!”

“I’m just repeating what I heard!” Sara insists, covering her mouth and laughing.

“From who?”

“Qyle Martell.”

“Oh, the most reliable fucking narrator-”

“What’s going on?” Aemond calls from his spot on the dock.

Your laughter and screams stop abruptly as you all call back different versions of “nothing!” “Everything's fine!” and Helaena screaming, “You pervert!”

Aemond holds his hands out in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed. He meets your eyes and you blush, hoping he doesn’t notice as you quickly avert your gaze. 

After a few more hours and a quick swim to clean the sweat and grease from the work and you slip your extra sundress over your bathing suit, ready to head out for the day. 

“Dinner?” Sara asks, “We can go to the Wolf Den.”

“We’ve had that nearly every day this week,” Baela moans.

“It's summer. We eat every meal there,” Sara insists, clasping her hands on Baela’s shoulders, “Besides, Y/N hasn’t been to the Wolf Den yet! She’s got to meet Cregan!” 

Sara’s been telling you all about her brother; he seems nice. You’re all tired and too hungry to disagree so you head to the Wolf Den. Aemond narrows his eyes at Helaena, who nudges him with her shoulder.

“You’re as bad as Egg,” she teases, and his eyes narrow.

“Why?” Aemond asks, a frown playing on his lips.

“I’ve heard rumors about you little bro,” she says and shudders dramatically, “Rumors a sister should not be hearing about her little brother. Ew.” Helaena sticks her tongue out, pretending to gag. 

Aemond’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What do you mean?” he asks but Helaena shakes her head.

“I’m not repeating what I heard! What, am I, a gossip now?” Helaena says, feigning offense with a hand over her chest. Aemond purses his lips and continues arguing with her as they walk ahead of you. 

The Wolf Den is on the mainland, and with Seasmoke in no condition to sail, you pile onto Vermax; though Aemond leaves on another side of the docks. You don’t see where he goes, but when you ask Helaena she merely shrugs. 

“He’s not getting on a boat with Luke again,” she tells you, “But he’ll probably come through to the Wolf Den. Dude’s gotta eat.”

After a gentle trip across Blackwater Bay, Helaena offers to drive you all in her light blue convertible. The Wolf’s Den is cute; the outer deck is decorated with twinkling multicolored string lights. It’s right on the water, and the music can be heard from outside. Sara ushers you in and you see the appeal right away.

High ceilings, a generous amount of tables, and a dance floor in the middle of the room. Paper lanterns hang from the ceiling rafters, illuminating the room with a soft golden glow. It's warm and cozy and inviting. The bartender, a big beefy guy with a thick beard, waves at Sara. He’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt decorated with wolves wearing sunglasses, and lounging on the beach. 

“Sup sis,” he says as you walk over to the bar with her, “Woah, no kids at the bar please, we’ve been through this.” Luke frowns dramatically at him. So this must be Cregan.

“Even if I’m sad?” he asks, jutting out his lower lip. 

“You still 17?” Cregan asks, and Luke opens his mouth to protest, “Yeah, no. Grab that booth over there.”

Luke mumbles something under his breath, but Jace clasps a hand on his shoulder, turning him away from the bar. Rhaena goes to join them as they head to claim a booth. 

“Sup Jace,” Cregan calls, and Jace glances over his shoulder. His cheeks turn a rosy shade of pink as he says hello. Sara scoots into a chair, motioning for you to sit. You do, Baela sliding next to you.

“What’re you drinking?” Cregan asks, smiling warmly at you, “I’m Cregan, by the way.” He offers his hand you take it, feeling the rough calluses as he engulfs your hand in his.

“Y/N,” you tell him, with a smile, “And umm is there something you recommend?”

Cregan releases your hand, nodding appreciatively. “The Winter Rose, if you trust me. It’s our current special.”

“I’ll do that,” you tell him.

“A risk taker, I like it,” he says, grabbing a shaker, “Ladies?” 

“We’ll make it easy for you Stark, we’ll have the same,” Baela answers for herself and Sara. You look around the Wolf Den, just as Aemond walks through the door. You catch his eye briefly, before looking away, exhaling. Helaena notices, slipping off her stool to greet her brother. You can’t help but watch, noticing he’s joined by the same man from last week who he played tennis with. 

As Cregan slides your drinks in front of you, Baela notices your distraction. She follows your gaze. 

“Criston Cole,” she says, nodding to Aemond’s friend, “A friend of Alicent’s.” Aemond, Criston, and Helaena choose a table to sit at, on the opposite side of the room than Luke’s. It's deliberate, the choosing of sides. Even under the guise of working together on Seasmoke, the tension is palpable in the Wolf Den. 

You spend most of the evening chatting and sharing drinks and food with Sara and Baela. They have the funniest stories about growing up together; spending summers between King’s Landing and Driftmark. They met with Sara and Cregan had moved to King’s Landing from Winterfell after the death of their father. 

“Baela was my hero,” Sara told you, “I came to school, my first day at a new school, wearing my dire wolf slippers.” She bites her lips, “Kids started teasing me, calling me wolf girl. Baela punched 3 kids in their noses.”

“Friends ever since,” Baela says, smiling widely, before insisting you have to hit the dance floor, at least once this evening. One song turns into five, and soon you’re having the time of your life in the middle of the dance floor.

After a while, you slide up to the bar, ordering water, leaning your palms against the counter. You’re a tad tipsy, that perfect buzz where you feel incredibly warm, and your palms have started to tingle. 

Cregan hands you your water, before attending to other patrons. You hold the glass against your bare sternum, relishing the feeling of the cool condensation on your skin. You dip your fingers into the cup, removing an ice cube and sliding it over your collarbone, and around the back of your neck.

“Having fun?” you’d know that snarky voice anywhere. Aemond slides up next to you, leaning against the bar. His eye tracks a drop of water that runs down your chest, before disappearing between your cleavage. 

You bring the ice cube to your lips, rubbing them against it. 

“Yup,” you murmur around it, not really sure why he’s making small talk with you. 

The ice cube has nearly melted, so you hold it against the back of your neck once more. 

“Hot?” Aemond murmurs. You glance up at him. 

“What?” you ask.

“You’re hot?” he asks again, motioning to the ice cube. 

“I was dancing,” you tell him.

“I saw,” he says, lip curling upwards.

“Do you have a problem with me?” you ask, the liquor giving you courage, “I’ve been nothing but nice to you-”

“You ruined a family heirloom the first day I met you,” Aemond interrupts, tapping his long fingers against the bar. 

“That was an accident,” you tell him, again, but your cheeks bloom with blush regardless. 

Aemond smiles at that, eye flickering over your face.

“Your flower boy ask you out yet?” Aemond asks, quickly changing the subject. 

“Flower boy?” you ask, until you realize he’s referring to Will, “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” he tells you, raising a brow, “Just curious. It gets dull around here.”

“The thrill from sinking teenage boys' boats only lasts so long, huh?” you tell him, turning to face him. Shit, he’s tall. You’re forced to look up at him through your lashes. Aemond turns slightly, leaning one hand against the bar as he smirks down at you. 

“I’ll have to find something else to entertain me,” he agrees, tilting his head.

“Heard you don’t have a problem with that,” the words come out of your mouth before you can stop them. Goddamn, it. Baela once told you your mouth would be the death of you. Sometimes you just can’t seem to stop your thoughts. 

“What’s that mean?” Aemond asks with a shimmer of curiosity in his eye. 

“Nothing,” you tell him, shaking your head, “Stop talking to me.”

“The mouth on you,” Aemond says, shaking his head, “You’re being rather rude.”

Your jaw slacks, eyes widening. “I’m being rude? You’re the one being rude!” you tell him.

“How so?” he inquires, a puzzled expression crossing his features. You scowl at him. 

“You’re just trying to be an ass,” you tell him, shaking your head, “You know, I’m a very nice person. We could have been friends.”

“You and I are not going to be friends,” Aemond says, voice lowering an octave. He looks at you intensely and you feel warmth creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks. You break away from his gaze, taking a sip of your water.

“Sara was fucking lying,” you mumble, more to yourself than to him. 

Aemond brings his lower lip between his teeth. You can tell, he’s genuinely curious about what information you have on him.

“About….?” he asks.

Your cheeks are blazing with heat, but you decide to call him out. 

“About you and Floris,” you say, placing your glass on the counter, “And her siblings? Sounds a little incestuous to me.” 

Aemond’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. You reach for your drink again, needing something to do with your hands. 

“Oh?” he says, pursing his lips. He hums slightly, gazing at you. 

“I didn’t believe it,” you tell him, sipping your drink, “Four girls is a lot to handle.”

“It’s surprisingly easy when you know what you’re doing,” Aemond answers casually.

You nearly choke, but manage to compose yourself as he watches you carefully. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you. Your mind drifts to Floris, the conversation you overheard. To Cece Lannister burning rose bushes. You swallow the lump forming in your throat. You can’t help your curiosity. Aemond somehow had them wrapped around his finger. 

“Yeah right,” you tell him, laughing slightly, “You’re all talk.”

You’re baiting him slightly, but you don’t care. 

“You wanna find out?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Your breath catches as he leans forward, bending slightly to your height. Aemond brings his face next to yours, you can feel the tip of his nose drag across your cheek. Instinctively, your eyes flutter shut. 

“There’s a bathroom right down the hall,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, “Give me ten minutes and I’ll show you what all that talks about.”

Holy shit.

You were not expecting that reaction. 

“I’m not fucking you in the bathroom,” you hiss, pushing your hand against his chest. You can’t think with his breath against your ear.

“Wherever you want,” he tells you, grabbing your wrist. His touch is like fire, as he rubs his thumb along the smooth skin of your inner wrist. Goosebumps form on your arms and you have to suppress a slight whimper. 

Girl, get it together. You’re tipsy that’s all. It's just the alcohol and a hot guy, nothing more. It doesn’t help that the last time you got laid was a one-night stand months ago that left you on read when you reached out the next day. 

“Wha-what?” you ask him, eyes wide.

“Name the place,” he says, “And time. I’m very punctual.”

You blink, not believing what you’re hearing.

“You’re not serious-”

“I am though,” he says, pursing his lips, “You tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”

You stare at him in disbelief before shaking your head. 

“You don’t even like me-”

“So?”

Anger surges through you, along with a sharp sting of humiliation. Your lips turn down in a frown. 

“You’re beautiful,” Aemond says, shocking you like a slap to the face, “Clearly intelligent. I don’t see why we can’t help each other out.”

“What are you even talking about?” you ask in bewilderment.

“A friends-with-benefits situation,” Aemond answers, honestly.

“You’re not even my friend! You said so yourself!” you tell him, a shaky laugh leaving your lips. 

“We can change the name of the arrangement if that’s your hesitation,” Aemond assures you.

“If you’re looking for a fuckbuddy, call Floris,” you tell him.

“That door is closed,” he tells you and you blink in disbelief. He’s speaking so clinically, in such a detached manner. 

Jesus Christ, who hurt this guy?

“Well then take your pick of the other Baratheon girls!” you encourage, “I’m not interested!”

“You keep telling yourself that,” he says, smirking, “You know where to find me.”

You hurry away from the bar, and back onto the dancefloor with Baela, Sara, Helaena, and Rhaena. They greet you with open arms and pull you into a dance. You glance back at the bar where Aemond still stands, watching you as he leans against the bar. 

You meet his eye, feeling warmth pool in your lower belly. No fucking way. Not this prick. You’re not that down bad for a summer fling. And plus, you have options! Will Tyrell seems like a nice guy! And Driftmark is a big island. So is King’s Landing. Anyone can be your summer fling.

Anyone but him.

note: is it.....getting warm in here? just me? okay bye hehe

as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected

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

@grungegrrrl, @moonlightfoxx, @melsunshine, @helaenaluvr

@m1ndbrand, @sahvlren, @muthafuckingstargirl @herfantasyworldd, @sunna-fangirls, @carriellie, @elle4404

bold means tumblr would not let me tag!

[promenadewithme]

Happy Sappy Hormones

a/n: I know, I know. I've been away for a while. but I have my last final next week and after that I'm turning off med head and turning on writer mode! I've been watching criminal minds and I'm only on s2, but I already have this MASSIVE crush on Spencer Reid. So here's a little blurb I wrote recently. It's not proofread, so forgive me for any mistakes. Pairing: Spencer Read x profiler! you (no use of y/n) Warnings: slightly smutty, but nothing graphic. next chapter is going to be graphic af. um.. let me think... one bed trope, overnight stay at an in, pre-sex, all that tension (at least I aimed for it lol) and pining. Word Count: I have no idea

Am I sweating? I think I’m sweating. How the hell am I supposed to sleep next to this man? Fuck this stupid inn for having only one room with one bed. How cliche of them.

I peek at him and he’s looking up, head against the wall. Spencer swallows, throat bobbing up and down. He has such a nice profile, sharp nose and jawline, the most pronounced cheekbones you will ever see in real life, brows that always seem to be furrowed in thought, pillowy lips that I can’t help but picture against my own. And that hair… Those fluffy chocolate waves that beg for my fingers to mess up.

He’s soft but manly. Angelic heart with a dark mind. 

I rake my eyes across his face once more and notice that a bit of a stubble has grown since this morning. What would that feel like brushing against my neck? Better yet, what would they feel like between my thighs while he-

Nope, too far. I have gone too far.

A blush creeps up my neck to my cheeks. Sleep is the last thing on my mind right now.

“Did you know that sharing a bed is actually good for your health?” he blurbs out, still looking at the ceiling. 

So he’s uncomfortable too. Great.

“How so?” I ask, playing with the hem of my shirt.

“It releases serotonin, dopamine and oxytocin.” he states matter of factly.

“The golden trio of happy sappy hormones.” I quip.

“Something like that” he smirks, giving me a quick look before continuing. “Our pituitary glands transform serotonin into melatonin, which is the hormone that controls our sleep. That’s why cuddling in general makes you sleepy. Serotonin is also known as the ‘happy hormone’ because it’s a mood stabiliser, but it’s more than that. It regulates body temperature, improves memory and aids learning.”

I feel Spencer’s body slowly relax into the mattress as he speaks, so I spur him on.

“Is that so?” I say, trying to hide how much his intelligence affects me.

This man could open a book on gut microbiota, read it to me outloud and it would still be like dirty talk to me. 

“Yes.” he smiles timidly and scooches closer, turning his body in my direction.

 “What about dopamine?” I ask before I let my mind wander again.

“Dopamine is the reward chemical, it’s the rush you feel when you get a good grade or when you eat or sleep.And it’s um…” he pauses and starts playing with the sheets between us “It’s also released when you’re sexually attracted to someone.”

“Oh.” I say in almost a whisper. I must be releasing a lot of that lately.

“Yeah.” he says, taking the hem of my shirt from my grasp and toying with it himself. “It also causes our body's physiological reaction to attraction.”

His finger brushes against my stomach, leaving goosebumps in its wake and making my pulse skyrocket. 

“Which reactions?” I ask but the air seems too shallow, there’s not enough oxygen in my lungs.

He finally looks at me and my breathing stops. His hazel eyes bore into mine like they can see my soul. I’m afraid he knows how much I want him, I’m afraid he’ll see how much I wish he would drift his hand further down until he reaches the part of me that wants him the most.

He lifts his hand to my face and trails a shaky finger down my cheek and neck before saying “Like blushing,” his hand trails softly down my arm and my skin pebbles up where he touched “Goosebumps,” he makes it to my wrist and presses down on my artery “quickened heartbeat,” he bows his head and kisses my hand softly, never taking his eyes from mine “the effect of dopamine is obsessive and almost drug-like, you can’t stay away from the person you love and you don’t want to either.”

I can’t breathe. I feel myself shifting closer to him and my attention is fully on his lips. Those lips that never stop moving and I never want them to. Except, right now, I want them moving against mine. 

“What about oxytocin?” I whisper, forcing myself to look at his eyes, his gorgeous hazel eyes. 

“The love hormone.” he mumbles, bringing his hand to my neck while his thumb strokes my cheek. “It’s released in mothers during labour and when in contact with their newborn, but also during sex.”

We are so close that I can see the faint freckles that dust his nose, I’d never noticed them before.

“Any benefits?” I ask, spreading my hands on his chest. He’s so warm.

His voice is low and husky when he answers. 

“Lowers your blood pressure and cortisol levels,” his nose brushes against mine and I look at his lips again “reduces stress.”

“That’s um…” What was I saying again? His lips brush against mine once. Twice. “That’s nice.”

He dips down once more and captures my lips in a slow kiss, like he’s testing the waters. I sigh and my arms make their way around his neck. Spencer darts his tongue out and takes a quick swipe at my bottom lip, I let him in. When his tongue brushes against mine tentatively, his chest rumbles with his low groan and I sink into his arms. 

He grabs my left leg and throws it over his hips so I’m straddling him. I feel his erection between my legs and moan into the kiss. My hands go up to his hair and his locks are even softer than I thought they would be. 

I pull back only slightly “I think we’ve been very stressed lately.”

He nods and kisses me again before saying “Only benefits can come from this.” 

“Yeah, we’re just taking care of our health, right?” 

We stare at each other, panting in unison.

I shouldn’t do this, this will only complicate things. But how can I think of that when he’s looking at me like I’m the hottest woman on earth? How can I think this is wrong when I’ve wanted this for so long? When his soft hair is disheveled by my touch, his mouth swollen from my kiss, his pupils dilated with lust for me, making his hazel eyes dark. 

Just once, I get the chance to do something for me, something that will make me feel good with someone that makes me feel good and seen and beautiful. 

Fuck it. 

I lick my lips and bring his face towards mine in the hottest kiss I have ever had. 

--------

PROLOGUE HAD BEEN POSTED!

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Snuggling with Their S.O. (BAU Headcanons)

HUGE s/o to @ithebookhoarder for the format/inspo on these! I ✨love✨ your HCs!

*Also, PS, this lil exercise has made me abundantly aware that I am super super gay. Like, I had a hard time writing the men because imagining myself/reader snuggling with a man was so weird to me. Sorry, men of the BAU (and men in general)! I'm sure you are great, you're just not for me! So that being said, I want to clarify that I still don't write for the Criminal Minds men. I'd only do them for HCs. - love illdowhatiwantthanks (and what I want is to not write men x reader)

Aaron Hotchner

Surprisingly gentle, as if he's afraid you might break

Very soft, a side of him that not many people get to see (and even you don't get to see it that often)

Hands everywhere, not even necessarily in a sexual way, he just can't keep his hands off you

He gets a lil shy and sometimes has a hard time making eye contact

Lowkey obsessed with the smell of your conditioner and loves to bury his face in your neck

Big spoon, always

David Rossi

Will tickle you until you're practically begging for him to stop

Playful, loves to make you laugh

Plays with your fingers, soft touches that make you shiver

I mean the man is a writer, will whisper either the dirtiest or the sweetest things you've ever heard into your ear depending on the mood

Insomniac, but doesn't even care because he loves to watch you sleep

Big spoon 85% of the time, except after one of his nightmares about the Galen parents' murder

Derek Morgan

Soft, but somehow sensual and passionate at the same time

Will snuggle with you just to snuggle, but also is never mad if it leads to more...

Likes to keep his eyes closed and just feel you

Traces every part of you like he's drawing a map in his mind–curves, freckles, ribcage, shoulder blades, all of it

Prefers snuggling sans clothing–not for sexual reasons necessarily, just because he likes the feeling of skin-to-skin contact

Prefers face-to-face to spooning

Emily Prentiss

Snuggles hard, as in deep pressure, as in holding you very tight, as in wants to be as close to you as humanly possible

Loves to tuck your head in the crook of her neck

Never not playing with your hair

Seriously has a gorilla death grip on you, good luck if you need to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night

Will kiss your neck whenever she can't resist–which is always

Big spoon always because she likes to make you feel safe (and she likes to feel that you feel safe with her)

Jennifer Jareau

Gentle and very sweet, a part of herself she doesn't get to show at work

Lots of very cute, very innocent kisses all over your face–forehead, cheek, eyelids, tip of your nose

Stares at you so long it makes you blush

Not usually very forthcoming with "I love yous" but will say it again and again while snuggling

Prefers face-to-face so she can watch you

But will want to spoon after a hard case–if it was one where she was scared for you (usually physically similar victims) she'll want to be the big spoon, if it was one where she was scared she'll be the little spoon

Penelope Garcia

Worships the actual ground you walk on, will make you feel absolutely adored

Makes sure you have everything you need to be comfy–weighted blanket, favorite pillow, stuffies or security blanket, white noise if you need it

Will hold you, of course she will and she will love it, but her favorite is when you hold her

Will tell you the sweetest, randomest, dorkiest things while you're snuggling

Feels almost like falling asleep and into a really good dream when she snuggles into you

If you have any pets, they are 100% invited to snuggle, too

Prefers face-to-face snuggling or little spoon, but if you've had a bad day she will not hesitate to scoop you up

Spencer Reid

Very, very shy at first, like he's trying so hard to be respectful that he lays there like a plank of wood

Makes eye contact only to look away and blush beet red

Plants small kisses on your shoulders every few minutes

Likes to hold your hands and play with your fingers

Foreheads pressed together while he tells you about his latest hyperfixation (it becomes his favorite part of the day)

Will always, always take care of you and hold you when you are having a hard day but secretly loves being the little spoon best

[fertilize-my-eggs]

The night stalker ch.1

Ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5 A03

A/N: the first chapter is base on my dream a few days ago so I believe it's was sleep paralysis demon that I was having but this give me the idea for this chapter :3

Blinking the tiredness away as I curl into a ball, the soft warmth touches on my delicate skin. I turn over for the fresh air of the ac as I sigh quietly.

I blink away to see a dark figure near my bed as I stare at it a bit. It's holding what I assume is a small gray camera but it's suddenly disappeared before I get to look at it a little longer. I think my mind was playing tricks as I turned over and didn't think much about it.

I curl over as I pull the blanket over my face, it's a bit unnerving to see something like that out of a horror movie in real life. I should stop watching those true crimes on YouTube as I doze off into sleep.

It was a bright beautiful morning as I stretched out my arms, I yawned out loud as I rub my eyes a bit.

Living in Japan by myself feels refreshed but I miss my home life in my country as I get up to start my early breakfast.

I put my thumb on my lips as I think, I need to study for my college about speaking Japanese and its culture. I smile softly as I play with my hair, I put it into a messy bun.

As I head into the living room to turn on the television for news, I feel a bit isolated about being alone in this apartment but I always thought Japan was such a beautiful place and also it was time for me to start a new chapter for my journey as a foreigner woman.

I begin to prep the potato as I peel it, I look over to see the weather lady talking about a nice sunny day as I smile. It's gonna be nice weather as I wash the peeled potatoes.

It's cut to a news man explaining about an unwanted criminal as I cut it into small pieces.

An unwanted criminal? As I pause the cutting as I begin to look at the TV.

“ an unknown male in his early 20s has been breaking and entering houses, murdering anyone who lives in it. ” I gasp as I hear him speak about the location as I bite my lips, it's close by where I live. It's hard to make out what he is saying since I'm still learning Japanese but he said.

“ The man goes by the night stalker, make sure to lock everything, your windows and doors at night time. ” I tilt my head as I think, it can't be what I saw last night about a dark figure hovering over my bed… no I think it was playing tricks on me.

“ We talked to one of his victims as they explained what he looked like. ”

“ There is a rough sketch of what we assume the criminal looks like. ” it's show a man that has shaggy short hair, sharp eyes, mole and large scar near his lips.

“ If you see this man, call the police immediately!! He is dangerous. ” I slowly realized I was holding my breath as I put my hand on my chest feeling like I couldn't breathe.

I blink fast as I turn it off, the night stalker… he sounds like something that will bring hell his way if you look at him wrong.

I walk away to start the food, I begin to think about it. Hopefully I don't run into him, I shouldn't be worried about this, I'm supposed to enjoy my day.

The meal looks a bit okay but I'll still eat it anyway, I put it down on the plate as I sat down to eat quietly.

I hum about the taste as I put my fingers on my face as I think. Don't think about it, maybe it won't ruin your day.

Suddenly I get a loud bing as I pull my phone out as I read the message.

(#1 bff asshole): hey you awake smiley?

I narrowed my eyes at his message. Katsuki bakugou was my first friend that I made when I came to Japan. We started out as online friends just joking around and now I live in Japan, he wants me to join him in college with his friends as I smile.

The nickname was a bit cheesy as I giggle at it, I remember when we first did a video call he was intimidating when I first saw him but he was a bit polite and he noticed off the bat that I smile too much or whenever I make dumb jokes often so bakugou was blunt in conversation and so smiley was his nickname to me.

(Me): yeah!! I'll be here in bit, gotta eat my breakfast :>

(#1 bff asshole): well hurry up I don't have all day smiley.

Grumpy asshole as I groan at the message.

(Me): hey you… hear about the news today? About an unwanted criminal called night stalker…apparently he's around my location..

There was a long pause as I finished my meal, I got up to clean the dishes a bit.

I walk back towards the phone as the screen lights up.

(#1 bff asshole): … yeah. Are you okay? Do you want me to protect you and be your hero? Don't fall for me tho ;)

I roll my eyes at this as I puff out air.

(Me): eww gross… but in all seriousness, yeah just a bit, I wouldn't mind the others coming to my apartment for a few days.

I close my phone as I begin to head into my room to get dressed, a simple casual outfit would be nice.

I grab my clothes to wear as I bolt to the restroom to take a quick shower.

The water feels nice on my skin as I sigh in relief. I jumped out, quickly dried my hair and did a bit of makeup.

A cute white skirt with a large pink sweater to keep me warm, white leggings and a small bag that looks like a cat.

I quickly get my keys and wallet as I head out to meet bakugou.

Today is gonna be my day and I'll enjoy it with my new friends!!

I stand outside as I begin to lock the door and start to walk away to the fresh air of japan.

[atlasscrumpit]

F*ck me like you hate me

Miguel x Black Cat reader

(let's go for a cliche one for a change) 

You loved this endless game of cat and mouse...literally.

You ran along the roof tops before you were tackled to the ground. You looked up at the spiderman and smirked.

"Come on, it was just a few jewels." You say reaching up and running your finger along his jawline.

"God, you piss me off." He growled as he felt down your sides and grabbed the bag of jewels.

"You know, we would be good together. Us two in bed... Imagine that tension, ever had hate sex?" You said with a smirk as he groaned and shook his head.

"¿Por qué no me pagan por esto?" He grumbled before getting up off you.

(why don't they pay me for this?)

You got up and looked at him before moving closer.

You ran one of your claws down his chest, watching him shiver.

"Why don't we just try it...hmm?" You whispered as he looked down at you before gripping your wrist.

"Enough, Cat. You're a weak criminal and I am a hero, I would never stoop so low." He growled as you stepped away and fake pouted.

"Aww... I'm so sad." You whispered before holding up the bag of jewels you just stole back from him.

You quickly jumped off the building and disappeared.

"Dammit!"

--

You got back to your apartment and secured the jewels into a safe before collapsing onto your bed.

You wouldn't ever admit it, but you had felt a little rejected.

You'd always had a thing for spiderman, always wondering what he looked like under the suit.

"Well, if you won't sleep with me I'm still going to fucking touch myself to you." You grumbled angrily as you unzipped your suit.

--

You walked through the streets of Nueva York, a coffee in your hand as you stared down at your phone.

Suddenly you ran straight into someone, spilling your drink all over him.

"Fuck!" You swore, you were really looking forward to that coffee.

"Watch where you're going, asshole!" You shouted as you looked up at the tall man, your cheeks blushing.

"Says the one who was on their phone." He grumbled as your eyes widened, you knew that voice.

"Oh, for fuck sakes." You growled as he raised an eyebrow before a look of shock came over his face.

"It's you, isn't it." He muttered as you put on a fake smile.

"No clue what you're talking about, sir. I've never seen you in my life." You said, with fake innocence before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into an alleyway, pinning you to the wall.

"Were you stalking me? What's your goal here?" He growled as you looked at you with annoyance.

"My goal was to go get a coffee and go home but then you ruined that." You growled as he stared at you, panting softly.

"We will never mention this... Right now we aren't them, we aren't criminals or villains." He grumbled backing away from you.

He held out his hand as you smirked and shook it.

"I'm Miguel." He said as you nodded.

"Y/N." You replied, holding his hand for a little longer.

"Just... Two people, that bumped into each other." You muttered, walking closer to him.

He looked down at you, his stone cold face only making you want him more.

"God, you're annoying." He whispered before pushing you back and pinning you against the wall and kissing you passionately.

You moaned and jumped up, wrapped your legs around his waist as you both made out.

So much tension and hate coming out at once.

"I'm not fucking in an alleyway. Take me back to your place." You demanded as he chuckled dryly.

"So you can fucking rob me? We'll go to yours." He said as you narrowed your eyes.

"So you can arrest me?" You growled back as you looked into each other's eyes.

"Hotel?" You both said in unison before laughing and grabbing his hand, running down the street like two horny teenagers.

--

You laid in a hotel bed completely naked with broken furniture all around you.

"So... That just happened." You muttered as he gave palmed.

"Why did I do that..." He grumbled as you chuckled.

"Don't fucking lie, that was the best you've ever had." You said making him chuckle and shake his head.

"I hate you." He said before you straddled him and kissed him again.

"Show me how much you hate me then."

[cambion-companion]

Could you write something about Alicent and Aemond? Maybe he is anxious about becoming the father and doesn't want to speak to his wife about this matter and goes to his mother. She recalls what he was like after being born, that he was all sunshine until world's greedy hands (aka Viserys neglection and Aegon's bullying) hurt him so deeply. And then maybe Aemond promises himself that he will never allow to steal his child's happiness and he will do his best so his child will have happy childhood. And Alicent still blames herself she didn't bring justice to him after he lost an eye. So yeah, nostalgic moments between them. I am sucker for mommy and her war criminal moments.

Ohhhh the potential here is almost overwhelming, I hope I did them justice Nonny!

Aemond and Alicent | reader is "offscreen" and heavily pregnant

"You will be a wonderful father, just as you are a loving husband." Alicent rose from where she'd been seated before the crackling fireplace, taking her son's hands in her own. "Aemond." She coaxed him to look her in the eye. "Do not fear to become Viserys."

Aemond was silent, keenly watching his mother's earnest expression. He had not been able to sleep that night, so he slid silently out of bed, careful not to wake his sleeping wife, and found his way down the hall to Alicent's reading room. The anticipation of a new child in the Keep had kept her awake as well and Aemond soon found himself unburdening his worries upon her.

"I am worried about her safety as well as the babe's." Aemond spoke, his long fingers tightening inadvertently around his mother's hands. "It has been challenge enough seeing her suffer through this pregnancy, but to birth a child..." He trailed off, remembering the echoes of Helaena's anguish filling the halls of the Red Keep.

"It is the natural order of things." Alicent gave him a small smile, understanding alight in her brown eyes. "I remember giving birth to you and what a sweet little boy you were."

"Mother." Aemond groaned, pulling away from her to sit upon the sofa.

Alicent persevered, taking a seat beside him and taking his hand yet again. "The first is always the hardest and the most painful. She will have the best healers in the realm attending her. All will be well." Alicent ran her fingers through Aemond's hair which fell loose over his shoulders.

His shoulders relaxed at her touch as he leaned slightly into her, adjusting his weight on the cushions until his head rested against her chest. Alicent made a small comforting noise in the back of her throat, her fingers massaging Aemond's scalp in soothing circles.

"What can I do?" Aemond's voice was small, reminding Alicent of when he was just a little boy tugging on her skirts and asking to be lifted into her arms.

"Be there for her. Be there for your child." Alicent placed a kiss to his fair brow. "You've always been the most perceptive of my sons. The most sensitive."

Aemond sat up to look at her.

She ran a finger lightly along the scar on his cheek, her expression growing somber. "The gods have not been kind to you." She shook her head, auburn curls falling loosely about her face. "Yet you've risen up time and gain, beating every obstacle. This will be no exception."

Alicent's eyes closed as Aemond leaned forward to place a brief kiss to her forehead. "Thank you mother."

[amymbona]

Criminal x detective au with a famous killer Patrick Zweig who's lowkey a Robin Hood kinda guy, stealing from the bad giving to the good, only killing capitalists and abusers and all the bad men. He's never been caught, a sly fox, always finding a way in and out. The whole FBI is after him, like he needs to be caught asap. But nobody seems to be getting even close to his trail.

Nobody but you. A shy but determined little detective, who has dedicated the last few years of her career to his case. You rarely ever go home to sleep, spending all the time in your office, trying to connect the hints, study his last burglaries and assassinations. He's so in your brain, completely filling your mind.

But the thing is, nobody has even seen his face before. You have some hints, that he's 6 foot 1 and has curly hair and a pointy nose, but honestly, that could be just any tall man. You're dreaming about an unknown man, a faceless entity who, for what you all know, could be a completely made up person to cover for a group of anarchists. Patrick Zweig has completely consumed your career, but your life too, and you're not only dedicated to catching him, but mainly uncovering whatever there is to be uncovered.

Until, one day, you wake up, tied to a chair and blindfolded in some cold basement, definitely not the comfort of your apartment. For long moments, you're left alone, left to ponder and trying to figure out whatever the fuck is going on. Is this some sick joke? A prank from your friends? Or have you actually been kidnapped?

Then you hear it, the door opens, and a pair of footsteps approached. "Who are you? Where am I?" you ask, but nobody responds. Instead, you feel a touch of a gloved hand on your cheek, on your shoulders, making you shiver. And you wonder, are you going to get killed today?

Not a single hair on your head is twisted, he never punches or slaps you, simply examines your face. Or so you guess, still unable to see a thing. "Finally we meet, detective." the first time he speaks, it sends shivers down your spine, the voice is low but kind of posh, very much confident, belonging to a unique individual.

Finally we meet? And who is the person standing in front of you? Is he a criminal you once wronged or a member of the sicilian mafia ordered to kill you? Unbeknownst to you, Patrick knows more about you than you know about him. He's been watching you, quite amused by your dedication. You're so different to all the other cops and detectives going after him. He can sense you want more and he's willing to give you that.

So he plays with you for a bit, giving you tricky questions and caressing your cheek with the sharp blade of his pocket knife, threatening to hurt you badly if you give him a wrong answer. He really isn't looking to hurt you duh, it's Patrick Zweig, he can't resist a tiny cut on your cheek Bone. He wipes the trail of blood with his gloved finger, licking it off and tasting the metallic leather in his mouth. Yummy.

It lasts for days, actually, at least you think so, and he's generous enough to bring you some water when he comes back. Unfortunately, you haven't earned any kind of luxury yet. It's amusing to see you struggle, to see you so afraid for your own life, and still stubborn, desiring to know more. In some sick sense, it turns the both of you on.

And finally, you guess it. The blood in your veins runs cold upon realising it is Patrick Zweig who has kidnapped you, who's holding you captive in his basement. The criminal you've been after for so many years, the man you've dedicated your whole career and life, as well, to. You should be afraid, you should be begging him to spare you and let you go. But no. You're excited.

"Be a good girl and nothing's gonna happen to you." he says, now standing behind you, his big palms planted on your trembling shoulders. "I know you want answers, so I'm gonna give you a chance to find them. But be careful, darling. One wrong move..." his hand suddenly wraps around your delicate neck, lightly squeezing it to the point when you gasp softly, eyes filling with tears under the blindfold. "One wrong move, Y/N, and I won't be able to hold back."

[lemonpils]

A Smile Long Forgotten - Blade & Kafka

Authors note; i legit haven't seen anything from this pairing and its CRIMINAL, so heres some fluff between these two!!

Summary; Blades Mara struck is acting up again, and Kafka finds out a fun little piece of information whilst trying to heal him.

It hurts so bad.

It burns. It aches.

Everything felt like pins and needles, in the worst way possible.

It was late, later then he'd usually be up. But he couldn't sleep, not one bit. He tossed and turned, watching out the window of the Stellaron Hunter's ship as he lied awake. It stings.

It stings so bad.

It was reaching that time again, where the tall dark haired man would have to seek out the help of his magenta haired acquaintance. Where he would have to show weakness, admitting that he needed assistance with his health. But it was something he had grown accustom to doing, and it was something that he had grown more comfortable to as well. He sat up from his bed, pushing the hair from his face. He looked towards his door, and noticed light coming from the bottom.

"She's... Still awake." He thought.

As he pulled himself from bed, he brushed his hair out from his face, finger combing the more intense knots out. He slipped on a black t-shirt, and quietly opened his bedroom door as he walked down the hall. Kafka was sitting on the couch of the ships lounge room, a glass of wine in hand as she read a small article. Blades footsteps we're noticed as she turned her head, a small smile adorning her face.

"Ah, Bladie."

It hurts so bad.

His voice quivered. "Kafka, I-"

My bodies on fire.

"Something caught your tongue?" She spoke.

It feels like I'm dying.

"Kafka, help me, please."

As blade let out those four words, she knew exactly what the situation was. She nodded, gently pulling him down to her. She was seated at the end of the couch, making sure there was room for him. Her hands laid his head on her lap as his body laid across the rest of the couch. Blades pained expression only made Kafka's heart hurt more, seeing her friend in such torment. "Just close your eyes, you know the drill." She said softly. Blade nodded, letting his eyes close like he always did. Followed by feeling Kafka's icy delicate hands begin to caress his face, torso, and wherever else she needed to touch. This was the part of the healing that was so difficult, having to feel her hands all over him. It wasn't that he didnt like it, he'd just never had someone touch him in this way. He groaned as she used her abilities, softening the leathality of the Mara Stuck with only her hands. Kafka was always so gentle with this process, she knew exactly what felt best, and what worked more efficiently. She dragged her fingers along his collar bones, practically pulling the pain right out from him. "Mmm..." He murmured. "That must feel better, hmm?" She spoke sweetly, as she continued to focus around his neck.

Blade nodded, he could feel the pain being relieved, and how it was replaced with a warm and refreshing feeling instead. He could also feel another sensation, an odd one- One of Kafka's nails had gently scratched along the shell of his ear, making his head twitch. "Oh? Did I miss a spot?" Kafka's fingers reached Blade's ear, and began caressing along it gently. She thought he reacted out of pain, that he needed some more healing in that specific area. She was wrong. At the moment, Blade was having a really difficult time holding in whatever reaction he was feeling. It was tingly, but not painfully so. He had the urge to- giggle. It was quite strange, it was almost as if he was ticklish. ... He is, so very ticklish. "K-Kafka... Stop." "I know it hurts Blade, but we're almost done." She said innocently. He could feel a smile tugging at his lips. "N-No thats not what I mehean..." Kafka froze, did he just giggle? She tilted her head, placing her fingers along that same spot on his neck as she watched him almost squirm away from her touch. Ah, I see. She thought. Her fingers curled against his skin, watched as he gasped out. "A-Ah! Kafka-" He grumbled, he then realized that she had caught on to what was occurring, and that he needed a way out fast. "Now then Bladie." She said with a smirk. "Kafka don't you dare-"

"Dont, move." She said using her ability.

As her words hit Blade's ears, he felt his limps come to a stop. He felt as her power took over him, that he was now immobile on Kafka's lap, great. "Bladie, why didn't you tell me you we're so... sensitive?" She said as she tweaked Blades side. "MhHf- I'm not." He said dryly. Kafka only smiled, she held her hands in front of his face, slowly bringing them to his ribs. "Time to run a test then, eh?" She giggled. Blade felt ten fingers beginning to knead against his ribs, feeling her nails scratch and skittering along. Which caused a miracle of a sound to emerge from Blade's mouth. "Bahahah! K-Kafka! Unhahand me!" He demanded through his giggles. Kafka let out an Awwwe~ Before raking her nails into his ribs once more, watching as Blade's smiley face cried out in sweet giggly laughter. "I dont think I will, not yet at least. I'm enjoying this pretty little view." She teased. Blade whined through his giggles, how dare she make a fool out of him! The way she cooed at his little noises, it was so belittling! But it was also kind of, nice..? No no, that cant be right. "Kahahafkahaha!" "Yes Bladie?" "Enohohough!" He pleaded. "Nah, Im good." Her smile turned to a smirk, as she used her nails to spider along his toned stomach. That really got him going. "NOOhoAHA! Nohohohoo! STOP!" His stomach was a lot more sensitive, she realized. His laughter got more frantic as she inched closer to that sweet spot in the middle. "Uh oh, looks like someone is in trouble~" Her voice teased at his ears. "YoHohOu're sUhuch ahAHa pahAHAin!" He could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and how they began staining his pink tinted cheeks. "Hmm, I could be much more of a pain if you'd like." "NooHAhOHO!" He exclaimed. This was odd, Blades face was quite warm. He felt- fuzzy inside, like he was enjoying the playful attention from her. He hasn't felt this in a long, long time. "Here I cooome~" Kafka began tracing her nails towards his bellybutton, watching as Blade grew more nervous. "Dohohn't- nohoho..." He whined. "Aaaaand, gotcha." Her nail began to swirl along the inside of his belly button.

Blade would then burst out into heavy laughter, tears streaming down his face. "PFFTEAHAHAA! NOHOAHA! KAHAFKA!" He screamed. Kafka only smiled, playfully giggling as she teased his belly button. "Aww~ Is someone ticklish here?" Blade only nodded as he laughed, screaming in ticklish agony as he suffered under her touch. "NOHOHO MORE! NOHOHO MOHOHORE!" Blade begged, he was growing ever so tired, and Kafka took notice to that as she slowed down. "Alright, alright. Shh, I'm stopping." She said softly, releasing his limbs as she combed his hair out of his face. He huffed and puffed, she had sure worn him out. He sat up, leaving her lap. "You- are a handful." He groaned, pulling his shirt back down over his stomach. She could see the tints of blush across his cheeks, and she chuckled to herself. "Oh relax, I was just having some fun. I haven't seen that smile in a while." That was true, Blade couldn't remember the last time he had smiled like that, let alone laughed like that. It was, a pleasant feeling.

"Yea, sure. Thank you for healing me, now- goodnight." He quickly paced back to his room, hands rubbing at his eyes. "Have a goodnight Bladie~" She teased. He made his way down the hall, passing by Silverwolf in the process. "Sounded like you two had fun." She said. "Shut up." He shot back.

It was safe to say, he was probably going to go back for some 'healing' sooner than later.

[midnight-talescape]

𝒯𝒶𝒷𝑜𝑜 (𝐵𝓇𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝐵𝒶𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓍 𝒮𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇)

Kinktober Day 29: Incest

This is so scuff because i ran out of time to finish this ;-;

My boss suddenly told me i have work today so i didnt have time to write or eat or do anything else because i have no right lol and had to scuff out the smut

I was so excited for this too ;-;

Oh also usually my x reader, reader is generic everything other then gender because a bit hard to do that in smut but since you’re Bruce sister you do share similarities with him. So like your skin color get mentioned once or twice as pale.

Warning: somnophillia, the occasional noncon, etc, etc you get the point not for kid

Genre: filthy filthy smut

Word Count: 2269

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“What would you do if I were to ever date anyone?”

Your question haunted him.

He was meant to protect you.

To protect you and keep you safe at all costs.

He wasn't supposed to want to hurt anyone who dared come near you.

“No,” Bruce said softly. “No, you won’t. You’ll always stay with me.” 

His breathing is quick and shallow as his fingers dig into your arms. He can’t stand the thought of losing you. 

You’re like the very oxygen he breathes.

Without you, he’d suffocate.

You laughed unaware of how important you were to him, assuming it was just the naturally protective instinct of an older brother.

But his gaze flicks to your skin, so pale it’s like the snow that covers Gotham in the midst of winter. He wants to touch you, to run his fingers along your skin. He wants you, and he wants you all to himself.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ears as he watched you sleep on his bed. You curled up so perfectly in his arms, your lip slightly parted as you let out a soft snore.

The feeling of you in his arms is his weakness, his addiction. 

That's something he can never tell you.

You nuzzled your face into his chest as you slept and Bruce froze as he felt you burying your face in his chest.

God, how long has it been since he's been this close to anyone?

He tightens his arm around you, pulling you closer. Leaning down he buries his face in your hair, breathing in the scent of your skin. You're so close to him. So close.

He wants to kiss you. He wants to do more than just kiss you. 

He wants you. He needs you.

No

You’re his little sister, nothing more and nothing less.

But as he looked down at your peaceful sleeping face, his body trembled with how much he wanted you.

He wants you so desperately, and it tore him up inside. You're his little sister. His little angel. 

God, he wants you so badly

And so, he kisses you. His body pressed against you and his eyes fluttered.

He’s Bruce Wayne's billionaire playboy, he has kissed more women than he cared to count.

For fuck sake, he has slept with more women than he cared to count.

He’s Batman, the dark knight of Gotham, the urban legend of Gotham who strikes fear into the hearts of criminals and civilians alike.

Yet here he was.

His body shook and his heart pounded from a tiny kiss. Trembling as if he were a prepubescent boy having his first kiss. The world seemed to stop as he felt your soft lip on his.

He wants you so badly... more than anything else in this world.

The kiss ends, and Bruce pulls away. For a moment, he gazes down at you. 

This is so wrong, so so wrong. 

And yet... He can't let you go... he can't ever lose you. 

He pulls you closer and he kisses you again, this time harder, more desperate. The sound of your soft whine as he kisses you and the way your body pressed against his… it's all driving him insane.

One kiss turns into two and then three. Before he knows it, he's kissing you with all the passion and desire he has kept hidden for so long. He kisses your neck, your shoulder, and every single inch of skin he can reach, over and over until he can't breathe. 

He needs to stop.

You’re his sister, his precious baby sister.

You let out a soft moan in your sleep, your body sensitive from his kisses. 

His body is trembling as he hears your soft moan, his whole world spinning as he slips his hand down your body. 

How can he not cross the line? He wants you more than anything.

His tongue met your neck and your collarbone as his hand slipped under your shirt, pulling your shirt up and revealing your soft breast.

His lip grazed against your hardened nipple as you whined in your sleep. The drug you took earlier for your injury does not allow you to wake up.

His mouth traveled lower and lower until he was inches away from your wet fold.

No, no, no, I can't do this. This is so wrong. So wrong.

But despite everything his mind is telling him, his heart wants you. 

He wants this. 

He needs this.

And so, he gently slipped his finger under your panties and moved it to the side before giving your wet cunt a gentle lick.

You let out a whine and tried to get away, your body flushing in your sleep.

But his hands are wrapped tightly around your hip, stopping you from getting away, and pulling you closer as he has his way with you.

His hands find your thighs and spread them apart as he begins to eat you out like a man dying of thirst.

He's touching you where he should never touch you, where he knows he shouldn't be touching you. And yet he can't bring himself to stop. 

Every part of him is filled with desire and longing. And the sound of your whimpers is like music, driving him down a path he never thought he would go down.

"Your body... so perfect," he whispers, his tongue slipping deeper into your wet fold, sending waves of pleasure down your body. 

You let out a soft wail and your leg instinctively wrapped around Bruce’s head pulling him deeper into your wet cunt. You were reduced to nothing but a whimpering mess.

Your wail sends a rush of sinful excitement through his body.

This is not the way he should be treating his sister and he knows it.

But his mind isn't working and all he can feel is a raw desire for you. A desire to consume you and mark you as his.

You're so soft, so beautiful and so vulnerable. Your taste on his lips and his tongue. Your body, writhing and shaking under his. The sound of your whimpers, so soft and so beautiful. 

He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t resist you.

You're his sister, his baby sister.

But he loves you. He wants you...he needs you…

You let out a choked cry as he gave you a hard suck, causing you to climax on his tongue. 

You're his little sister.

He knows it, more than anything else. Your blood runs thick through his veins. 

Bruce looked up panting, his face sticky and wet from your climax.

"My angel," Bruce whispers, his voice hoarse,

His head is empty, his body trembling with desire and love. 

He was supposed to protect you. He was always supposed to be your rock, your safety net. 

Instead, he's doing... this. 

“I- I need to clean up…” Bruce mumbled as he looked down at your sweaty body,

At the ruined bed sheet covered in his sister’s climax and your taste on his lip.

He should feel ashamed of what he did.

But he wasn't.

He was excited and he looked forward to the next time this happened.

Bruce stares at himself in the mirror, the face staring back at him, is not the face of a man ashamed of what he's done. There's a light in his eyes, a fire burning in his soul, that tells him he wants more.

So he waits. He cleans the mess, and he waits.

For next time.

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And next time came faster than he thought…

A mission gone wrong.

He was careless and so fucking stupid.

So carelessly hit by Poison Ivy’s pollen, he would have been okay.

His self-restraint will allow him to power through the pollen’s effects.

That is until you came into the picture.

His self-restraint is nothing when he’s facing you.

Everything you do is a temptation for him to push you into the ground and fuck you stupid.

And the pollen is taking away all his rational thought.

And you?

Oh, you poor innocent little thing, all you wanted to do was help your older brother.

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“Need you…”

That was all you get to hear before Bruce pounces on you and pushes you to the floor.

His mask was long gone, his hair messy and his breathing heavy as he looked into your eyes.

The way he was looking at you was downright obscene. It was filled with lust, desire, and love. All mixed into a dark terrifying look that screams for how much he needs you.

Growling Bruce leaned down and tilted your head up, kissing you roughly with a desperate passion. 

You didn't know what to expect from the pollen, but this level of aggression certainly wasn't it. 

You taste the passion on his lips, the desire, the hunger he has for you, as his hands grip your waist tightly so you can't escape.

The pollen is taking over his mind as he holds you to the floor. His mind was dazed with nothing but a single thought.

Mine

His rough hands, used to punching and hitting and hurting criminals and saving innocents, are now holding you, touching you, and exploring parts of you he should never touch.

He wants you so badly.

What is wrong with him? What have the pollen done to him? Why can he resist any temptation except for you?

Why should he stop this?

Because she's your sister.

Came a voice in his head.

That thought should make him stop.

It didn't.

It only makes him want you more.

You moaned into the kiss as you felt his hand slipping under your dress and up your thigh, his hand roughly digging into your skin leaving behind marks that will surely bruise tomorrow.

His hands explored your body, pushing your legs apart as he nibbled down your neck. He wants to hold you down, to keep you under him, and make sure you never leave him.

There is nothing in his mind but you, nothing but the feeling of your soft skin, your silky hair, and the sound of your whimper.

There's nothing except you, his sister.

He needs to stop. He knows it's wrong.

But your soft cry is louder than the thoughts in his head.

“B-Bruce?” 

Came your soft voice, he looked down at your teary eyes and he gained a moment of clarity. 

Suddenly torn between two feelings inside him.

His desire for you, and the disgust he feels at what he almost did to you.

Panting he let go of you, his voice hoarse and wracked with guilt as he kissed away your tears,

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry my little angel…”

You looked up at him your eyes blurry, but you can see the conflict behind his eyes. And the lust he was desperately trying to keep in control.

Sighing you pulled his head down and kissed him back.

And suddenly something snapped in his brain.

He kisses you back, hard this time. He kisses you like he's never kissed you before.

There's not even a hint of hesitation or restraint anymore, his body fully lost in your kiss and his desire.

He kisses you with a need that he never revealed to you.

He kisses you with a hunger that will never be satisfied.

There's no turning back.

He littered kissed down your shoulder and neck as he murmured,

"You're everything I've ever wanted, everything I've ever needed. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if I die protecting you..."

In a whisper so quiet that it could barely be heard,

"You're mine. Only mine. Don't ever forget it."

Taking off his armor quickly he pushed your leg toward your chest, before looking down at you to make sure you were okay with this, still trying to hold back his desire for you.

“It's okay, Bruce… you can do anything to me…”

Bruce's eyes flutter and his breathing slows as your words hit his ears.

“I love you…” he whispered before slamming his cock into you, the pollens once again taking over his mind,

Your back arched as you felt his large cock forcing your body open. You let out a loud cry as tears streamed from your eyes as you felt your body split open.

Bruce couldn't hold back as he continued to fuck into you ignoring your cry of pain, but he leaned his head down as you wrapped your arm around his neck pulling him into a kiss to distract yourself from the pain.

Bruce moaned into the kiss, his body shuddering with pleasure as your body clenched down on him. His hands wrapped tightly around your waist to slam his cock further into your body.

As Bruce continued to fuck into you harshly, you couldn't help but let out a desperate cry into the kiss, but you keep yourself from bucking or pushing him away. Only clawing your hand into his back leaving behind claw marks as your body convulsed and writhed under him.

You screamed as you climaxed under his harsh thrust, and Bruce groaned as he felt you clenched onto his cock tightly.

Your face was wet with tears and saliva as you babbled out incoherent thoughts.

Not stopping and letting you calm down, Bruce look down at your writhing body under him. Your hair spreading out under you like a web. Like a web trapping him inside this dark desire.

“I love you.” He whispered over and over again as he fucked into you,

He loves you, and to hell with morals.

He’s never going to let you go.

Not when you finally return his feelings.

[usmsgutterson]

Ethereally Broken- K.B x gn! reader

Okay! I said I was going to take a break over the next week but I was like “I could just write until I feel better” so that I did. My mental health tanked at random yesterday and I’ve been meaning to write a fic with this premise so writing it has helped quite a bit. The general premise is the fic genre thats like x amount of times character almost said y and the first time they did because I love that fic premise and genre and I figured it was time I wrote something using it. 

On a bit of a happier note, my requests are open until the 10th of August! Feel free to send in any ideas you have. I’ll be looking at them this weekend and through next week, and provided that my mental health doesn’t tank again, things should be smooth sailing. To those who have already sent in a request, I am looking forward to looking at the requests in my inbox and writing a couple of them out!

Fic type- this is heavy angst. I feel like shit and I projected like no fucking tomorrow so this fic has got it laid on heavily. 

Warnings- it’s never specified as depression but the reader goes through depressive episodes. This is not an attempt to glorify depression or depressive episodes but rather a work based on my experiences with it and with them, and if this fic is offensive in any way, please feel free to reach out and let me know so that I can make the necessary adjustments. SSRIs are talked about as well, there are mentions of bruises and dying, there is a mention of shivs, Kaz Brekker is a cat person in this fic and cats are present in this fic. I wrote how the reader experiences depressive episodes based upon my experiences with them, and Kaz might be a little OOC in this. 

THE FIRST TIME

Everyone in the Barrel knew you had a bit of a reputation with Kaz. You could communicate to each other with only glances, you were the deadliest weapons the Barrel had to offer, you were Kaz Brekkers one weakness and you stood at the heart of all of his strengths. 

But that did not exempt you from having your own struggles. You were not the hardened criminal it was easy to pretend you were, not the person who smiled and laughed at Jespers jokes, found subtle ways to tell Kaz that he was the love of your life and watched him for subtle echoes of the same. 

You had moments where all you could do was lay in bed and be completely and utterly unproductive. You had moments where all you could do was sleep and hope that the next day would be better. 

You had moments where you yearned for Kaz to tell you he loved you and he cared in more than three taps of his cane against the ground and your response--your fingers idly drumming on the table once, twice, three and then four times--and still, amidst your yearning, you knew it was the best you could get. 

So, when another of those moments came about, you were shocked to hear the sound of Kaz’s lockpicks moving in the lock you’d installed on the door of your second floor bedroom, and the second biggest in the Slat. You blinked at the sound of the locks and fought off your grin because you knew that Kaz would allow himself half a second to smirk before turning his face back to monotony. 

“Hello,” Kaz said. You turned to face him, eyes closing as you did.

“Hey,” you greeted tiredly. “Is everything all right?” 

“I came here to ask you the same thing,” Kaz said. “I mean--nobody has seen you at all this week. It’s like you haven’t left your room.” 

“Because I haven’t,” you said. “It’s just one of those times. Can’t do it if it would save my life.” 

Kaz knew what the words meant. They meant that you were getting bad again, and they meant that there was nothing that could be done to stop it.

Kaz took a step closer to you. He’d worked on his touch aversion in the two years since the Ice Court, but still. He was afraid that the waters would rise if he dared reach out. 

He couldn’t risk it. He wanted desperately to risk it. He could not risk it. 

“And, judging by your silence, you know exactly what that means for me,” you said. “Another week and I’ll be back to normal, I promise.” 

“No,” Kaz said. “No, you won’t. And you don’t need to be, Y/N. We can manage without you for as long as you need.” 

Kaz had always extended that courtesy to you and you had never listened. You would always find yourself at the beginning of the week that followed, forcing yourself out of bed and promising rewards for yourself for every task that you did.

For getting out of bed and going to the bathroom, you gave yourself a glass of the expensive brandy at the Crow Club. For brushing your teeth and taking a shower, you promised yourself a stack of waffles from the Kooperom after a job well done. 

For getting dressed, doing your hair, and popping a piece of gum into your mouth, you treated yourself to the acceptance of one of Jespers hugs when he offered it to you because your eyes still looked puffy from all of the crying that you had done throughout the process of getting up and getting ready. You let Inej take your hand and you believed her when she said you’d be okay, and you thanked Nina when she planted a platonic kiss to the top of your head and got you a glass of brandy. 

“You’ll see me in a week,” you said. “Now go. I respect you, Brekker, but not enough to let you see me wallow in my sorrows like this.” 

You had always extended that courtesy to Kaz and Kaz had never listened. 

Your room was small by the standards of those living in the Financial District, but even without accounting the space that the bathroom took up, it was decently sized. You had bookshelves lining all of the walls except for the one with the window, and a rocking chair with a blanket so that you could relax while you read had been placed in the far left corner of the room. 

Kaz went to the rocking chair and gave you a grin. “I have known you since we were nine,” he said. “You saw me at my worst. I am not afraid to see you at yours.” 

“Yes, but we’ve been together for two years now,” you said, eyes opening slightly to look at him. “And the general consensus for when you would get to see me fall apart isn’t until we reach our three year anniversary.” 

“Given that before we started dating I had known you for eight years, I think that we’re allowed to bend the rules a little bit.” 

You shook your head, closed your eyes, and scoffed. “Good night, Brekker,” you said. 

Kaz pursed his lips to stop his grin and reached up behind him, grabbing a random book from your shelf to distract his mind from the words that were at the forefront of it. 

I love you, he thought. Even when you’re at your worst. I love you, and I love you relentlessly. 

THE SECOND TIME

Kaz grinned a bit to himself as he heard the meow he’d long grown used to. It was the sound of a twelve week old kitten you’d been fostering since you found her in the middle of the road while on a job, and wherever she was, you were within close proximity. 

Kaz shook his head and tried not to scoff as the kitten jumped up onto his desk. 

“Have you given her a name yet?” He asked. “It’s been a month and a half. She needs a name.” 

“I was thinking Pumpkin,” you said, grinning at him as you walked into his office. “Because of the flame points on her ears and her nose. At worst she becomes Pumpkin Latte because of the cream coloring of the rest of her fur.” 

“Pumpkin is fitting,” Kaz said with a nod as Pumpkin the cat nuzzled against his hand. He was glad that he’d not thought to dip the pen he was using in ink in the forty five minutes that followed since he’d dipped it initially. If he had, it would’ve been a disaster and a half. “She’s sticking around?” 

“She has to,” you said with a nod. “Helps me sleep.” 

The words that remained unsaid lingered just as well. Helps me get up, too. If I don’t wake up to feed her when she wants, half of my belongings would be broken on my bedroom floor. 

Kaz nodded. “Okay,” he said. 

“You’ve got a job?” you asked. Kaz took notice of the dark circles that lingered under your eyes, and suddenly the fact that you had barely talked the week previous made a lot of sense. 

It was one of those times where you had gotten really, really bad and had wallowed within yourself the entire week before. You were at the point wherein you were promising yourself a cup of tea for getting out of bed and feeding the kitten, a stack of waffles for brushing your teeth and taking a shower, promising yourself an interaction with Kaz where you cherished his smile and stole a book off his shelf in exchange for getting dressed, combing out your hair, and telling yourself that it would be fine in due time because, like all things, it had to be.

“Something small,” Kaz said. “Ten thousand to each of us, a four person crew. Are you all right?” 

You approached his desk and scooped Pumpkin the cat up off of it, grinning as she ran her cheek along your finger and started purring. 

“Last week was the worst it’s been in a while,” you said. “But I have had tea and I have had coffee today, and I am dressed and I am somehow managing to stand here without worrying too much about anything other than the fact that we have known each other for a decade, we have been dating for three years, and you have seen me at my worst more times than I can even count.” 

“And you’ve seen me at mine,” Kaz said. “Though, to be fair, contrary to popular belief, I think that my worst was the period of time where my primary weapons were bottles that I’d smashed to use as shivs.” 

You laughed. Kaz relished in the sound of it. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

You gave a shake of your head. “No,” you said. “Not right now, anyway, but I will be. That’s how it always goes. Give it another week, Brekker, and I’ll be fine for the next few months.” 

Kaz wanted to reach out and take your hand. 

But the fear of the waters rising took over, and he did not. 

“So,” you said. “The job. Ten thousand kruge a person? You can count me in. When do we leave?” 

“Eight days time.” 

“That is perfect,” you said, grinning as you pressed a kiss to Pumpkins forehead. “I’ll see if Rotty can manage to take care of Pumpkin while we’re gone.”

“I would put a tad more trust into Anika,” he said. “She seems more like a cat person. Pim is probably allergic, and Rotty is definitely allergic. Plus, Pumpkin is addicted to attention. Anika will give her her undivided.” 

You grinned. “The cat hater has had a cat worm its way into his heart?” 

“I don’t hate cats,” Kaz said. “Pumpkin is just impossible to ignore, unlike most of the strays and ferals who walk the Barrel. She spilled my coffee yesterday because I was working and couldn’t let her nuzzle her face against the palm of my hand.” 

You laughed. Kaz’s heart picked up its pace briefly. 

“She knocked my brandy onto the ground yesterday because Nina wasn’t paying attention to her,” you said. “She’s ridiculous, but she’s also adorable, so they cancel out.”

Kaz scoffed, and you pushed the inkwell over to him. “Dip your pen,” you said. “Get back to work. You’ll find me in a booth at the Crow Club in two hours time if you’re done, because saints know you’re my best friend and I am just dying to be in your company. I will have brandy for you and Nina will be ready with a quip about your haircut if you’re a moment late.” 

You heard something close to a laugh fall from his lips, forced yourself not to notice or comment on it because doing so was an admission of caring as deeply about him as you did, and that was something you simply could not fathom. 

Kaz felt the words lingering on the tip of his tongue. The three words he’d been trying to figure out how to say to you for the entirety of two years at that point, but somehow never could. 

He knew that admissions of care in the Barrel were both incredibly risky and also few and far between as it were, but it was a risk that Kaz found himself willing to take. 

I love you, he thought. You and that silly cat who you’ve fostered for the past six weeks.

THE THIRD AND FOURTH TIME

Kaz sighed as you moved forward, pressing his cane against his hand lightly as he woke and found that the cane was whole again. He gripped the crows head and sat up in his spot, glancing at Jesper, who was chatting with Wylan as the seven of you waited out the Stadwatch in an abandoned building in the Warehouse District. 

“Jesper fixed it,” you said. “Free of charge, of course.” 

Kaz met your gaze. “And you’re all right?” 

“When am I not?” You asked with a teasing grin. The answer that was there remained unsaid. Every few months, when the sadness takes over and I get bad again. “All good, Brekker. How are you?” 

“I’ve been better,” Kaz whispered. “The winter is killing my leg, and I’m not who I’m concerned about. Is everyone else okay?” 

“Everyone is fine,” you said. “You’re the only one who came to significant blows, Brekker. Everyone else is either completely fine, or only slightly bruised. Worry about yourself for a moment.”

Kaz forced himself to press his back against the wall. “Stop downplaying it,” he said. “You could’ve died.” 

“Well, you know what, Kaz? You nearly did. Take inventory of your wounds and let yourself rest.” 

Kaz scoffed. “Doctors orders then?” 

“The orders of a person who cannot fathom living without you when you inevitably push yourself too far,” you said. “Don’t make me try to fathom that, Kaz. If I ask you nothing else, I ask you that.” 

Kaz gripped the crows head of his cane. He wanted to get up, to walk next to you as you turned away and began a conversation with Inej, but he did not. He only found the words as you had turned to face her, as a grin that Kaz had fallen in love with adorned your face.

“This is my worst,” he said. Inej gave your shoulder a squeeze and turned to talk to Nina and her Fjerdan, and you turned to look at him. “I lied when I told you what my worst was. This is it.” 

“There is no way,” you said. “No. Your worst is manmade--it’s Brekker made--this is not it. You’ve survived wounds before, Kaz.” 

“Be that as it may,” he said. “I have definitively gone through worse things than all of the damage I have done. This is my lowest where you are concerned.” 

“I watched you swim out of the reapers barge when we were ten,” you said. “That is your worst. Not this.” 

“Didn’t you think I was an eel?” Kaz asked. “Or a baby shark or something?” 

He was trying to goad you into laughing. 

You laughed. Kaz had the thought that, if he were to die that night, he could’ve died happily. 

“I thought you were an eel,” you said. “Not my finest moment, but to be fair, I was nine and the fact that I could’ve used a pair of glasses was not something I had considered.” 

Kaz glared at his gloves. Four years of working on his touch aversion and still, he couldn’t think of what would happen if he dared so much as touch your hand. Four years of working on his touch aversion, and still he feared that the waters would rise up until they swallowed him whole. 

“How are you doing?” Kaz asked. “With--the--”

“I’m the closest to falling apart while on a job that I have ever been,” you said. “My body finds ways to warn me. Oversleeping, drinking coffee in excess to try to stay awake, finding it difficult to get out of bed in the mornings. I get headaches, too, and all of that has come to a head today. Once I get home, I think that I am more than doubly due in for a bit of a cry to kick it off.” 

Kaz hated the fact that, despite all of the work he had done, he could not just reach out and grab your hand at a minimum. It made him wish he were dead, that the people you’d fought in pursuit of the items you needed to grab in the heist had done what they meant to and finished him off. 

But he steeled himself. He nodded. “I won’t book you in for two weeks at the Crow Club,” he said. “And we’ve got nothing of significance coming up for the next month, so if you need more time, you have it.” 

Normally, you would’ve protested. You would’ve said you’d pull through and you’d be fine, but you felt like complete and utter shit. Your body and your mind had begun to wage a war against you, and even though the fighting had only just begun, you already found yourself exhausted by it. 

“Thank you,” you said instead. “I’ll get you back for it, Brekker.” 

Kaz only shook his head. “You don’t need to do that.” 

Your relationship had been a culmination of saving each other and seeing each other at your worsts. It had been a culmination of having one anothers backs in a fight and bringing the other person tea when they were sick, bringing up food when the other hadn’t eaten and a whole world of reassurances packed into only a glance. 

It was complex, it was beautiful, it was watching one another as you fell apart and sticking around to pick up the pieces and put each other back together. 

“I do,” you said. “You need to at least let me say it for my own peace of mind, okay?” 

Kaz couldn’t think of what else could’ve been done, so he just nodded. 

“Okay,” he said. 

You pressed your forehead against the wall against which Kaz had his back pressed. Kaz glanced at you in time to watch a tear as it skated down one of your cheeks.

and there the words were, coming to the forefront of his mind as he realized that you needed to hear something comforting. 

I love you, he thought. I have to hope that I will never stop loving you. I do not know what I would do if I did. 

-

A day later, Kaz had come into your room and plopped Pumpkin the cat on your chest. You’d gotten the items you’d taken in the heist to the buyer and Kaz had told you that he would funnel your share into the offshore bank account that you used and told you that you could go if you couldn’t handle existing anywhere outside of your bedroom anymore. 

You stayed until the end of the negotiations, leaning on Nina as you all walked back to the Barrel. You did not join the six of them for drinks, only listened for the signature three taps of Kaz’s cane against the ground and tapped your fingers four times against the banister as you headed upstairs, to your room and to your bed and to the worst few weeks of your life that would come in the aftermath. 

“Hi,” you said. Pumpkin moved off your chest and instead objected to nuzzle her face against your shoulder, curling up on your right with her ear by your pulse point. “How was last night?” 

“It was fine,” he said. “Nina missed you, though. So did Inej and Wylan.” 

“I’ll send them my apologies, then,” you sighed, wished that you could’ve curled even further into your blankets. “I feel like shit.” 

Kaz gave a half laugh. You grinned as it reached your ears. 

Kaz approached the rocking chair, plucked a book off of your shelf. “I have seen you at your worst when it has reached a midpoint,” he said. “However, this is the first time I am seeing it at its beginning.” 

“And how is that making you feel?” 

“Are you a therapist all the sudden?” 

You laughed at that. Kaz glanced at the book as he opened it and did not try to suppress his grin. 

“You are the one person in the world who matters to me,” Kaz said. “I hate seeing you like this, Y/N.” 

“Is it because I am broken?” You asked. “If it is, I really don’t blame you.” 

“It is because--” he paused. He’d almost said it! He’d almost said the words that had been lingering on his lips for three years, but he did not. “Because you are you, and I have known you for twelve years, and I think that means I am allowed to hate it just a bit because I care about you by default.” 

“I guess so,” you said. “I’m a mess, but I’m an ethereal mess, so you don’t hate it because I am broken. You hate it because I am wallowing within myself and trying to fight my own mind and this is what is coming of it.” 

Kaz nodded. That was passable enough. 

He stayed until you had fallen asleep, genuinely getting invested in the book he’d grabbed from your shelf. As he left the room, he wanted to whisper it into the open air. 

He did not. The words remained in his thoughts, as they were meant to until the right time finally came. 

I love you, he thought. I love you and the ethereally broken mess that you are. I love you relentlessly. 

I LOVE YOU (THE LAST ALMOST)

Kaz found you and Pumpkin the cat on the bottom floor of the Slat, a book in your lap as Pumpkin took up most of the table. He gave Pumpkin the obligatory headpats she required and she jumped off the table with a trill, settling instead at your feet. 

“Hi,” he said. “You came back from Ravka early.” 

“Yeah,” you said. “I know you hate surprises, but I found an earlier boat and I couldn’t resist. Met up with a medik while I was there. I figured that I could try to medicate the bad days in ways that differ from whiskey and flaky pastry from the bakery on the harbor.” 

Kaz grinned. “And what happened with that?” 

“There’s a hospital with a pharmacy wing,” you said. “I have a prescription for a SSRI that is eligible for refills until I go to Ravka again next year. It won’t make the bad days go away completely, but it’ll help them be less terrible. I’ll still be able to function as a person when it gets bad and I won’t be sleeping my days away anymore.” 

“That’s amazing,” Kaz said. You’d been looking into SSRIs to treat your illness for two years, and you had travelled to Ravka to directly receive word on a heist that the royals wanted the Dregs assistance with. It had been happenstance, and happenstance had worked in your favor. “When do you start taking them?” 

“I get the prescription tonight, start taking them tomorrow. I was told that they can take up to four weeks to start actually working, but either way I am so relieved. It means that the pain will be more manageable than it is, and right now it gets so bad that I can’t manage it.” 

The words were right there. They lingered, as usual, at the forefront of his mind, and Kaz desperately wanted to say them. 

He did not. 

He reached across the table instead, took your hand in his. 

You glanced at your hands and then at him, waited for him to pull away as he tried to sense whether not he could feel the water at his ankles.

Expecting the water to rise was a given, but alas it did not. The water had not risen, and it was the first time that it had not risen in the course of his life. 

Kaz grinned. You grinned.

“Hi,” you said. 

“Hello,” Kaz responded. 

The words were shouted in his mind.

I love you, he thought. I started loving you when we were seventeen and I have not stopped since.

I LOVE YOU

Kaz was completely and utterly, absolutely and totally, calm as you walked through the building that you were about to preform the heist in. Jesper and Nina talked about the reward where Inej, Matthias, and Wylan were talking about the risks. You and Kaz were leading the group and not saying anything, rather content in your silence. 

The two of you came to a stop at the end of a very long and luxurious hall, stopping just before a staircase. 

“Rendezvous point,” Kaz said to the group. “Try and make it out of this alive and be there in two hours. We’ll take our haul to the boat and it’ll be with the buyer in two weeks time.” 

“No mourners,” Jesper said. 

“No funerals,” the group echoed. 

At that, everyone took off in their separate directions. You, however, had gotten the gift of going to your part alone, and as you and Kaz walked up the staircase that lead to a series of hallways, Kaz paused for a moment.

One second, he was looking at you and the next, you felt the barest touch of his forehead against yours. 

“Make it out in one piece,” he said. “I love you too much to have to bury you. Don’t make me try to fathom that.” 

You grinned as your gaze met his and he pulled away. “I love you too, Brekker. You die on me, I will bring you back to life and let Nina kill you for a second time.” 

Kaz grinned. You reveled in the sight of it. 

“No mourners,” he said.

“No funerals,” you echoed. 

As you and Kaz went your separate ways, he found that it was almost like he’d had a weight lifted off his chest. He’d finally said the words he’d been dying to say since he was nineteen, and he’d heard you say that you loved him too, and in a moment wherein he was driven by the love he felt for you rather than the greed he felt for the money that would come from the heist, he decided that it mattered just as much as the money would’ve. 

He loved you, and you knew it, and he knew that you loved him in turn. 

As he pulled his set of lockpicks from his coat pocket, he found that it was the one thought that persevered in his mind amidst thousands of others. 

[celestiaras]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ ahh~ ecchi!! ]❜

ft. meloco kyoran x f! reader — xsoleil, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ you’re an innocent angel & meloco’s a dirty pervert┊1.2k words

contains: smut!! dom meloco & sub reader┊dubcon, creepy behavior, lewd fantasies, masturbation (meloco), groping, panty stealing, semi/public sex, oral (receiving), getting together, corruption kink

➤ author's note: at the time i wrote this, i haven’t watched a meloco stream yet (criminal, i know) so it’s very likely out of character, but i have such a brainrot for her she’s so prettyyyyyy and there isn't enough content for her┊very loosely inspired by (this) clip

pervert! meloco kyoran who always feels you up whenever she hugs you— hands resting on your ass when she hugs you from the front and hands borderline groping your breasts when she hugs you from behind. she isn’t very subtle about it and even presses her own breasts against your body to watch your brain short-circuit (she doesn’t always wear a bra, so you can feel some big and soft they are-), but you just assume that she always hugs like that and isn’t intentional about where she’s touching despite the fact that she never hugs anyone else like that (even the other student council members raise an eyebrow when they see how handsy she is with you).

pervert! meloco kyoran whose favorite season is summer when everyone heads to the pool after a long day because she gets to see you wearing skimpy bikinis and sundresses that rise a bit too high as she ogles at you behind sunglasses with her signature smug smile. she especially loves it when you come out of the pool and water drips along your skin while the material of your swimsuit tightens to accentuate your figure.

pervert! meloco kyoran who simply spends a bit too much time daydreaming about how cute you are and how much she wants to fuck you. you once told her that the only sexual experience you had was with some high school ex who clearly didn’t know how to please a woman as she did, and she knows that you are attracted to her too with how you always leave lingering touches or gazes and get embarrassed whenever she catches you, so is it wrong of her to fantasize about being the first one to show you how it really feels? she plays with herself thinking of you late at night: how you would look all drunk from pleasure with hazy eyes and airy mewls while she fingers your tight little cunt or pinching and sucking on your perky tits, how adorable your inexperienced tongue would be while you eat her out for the first time, how your mascara would streak down your face while begging her to let you cum when she edges you and coos praises to you… her mind runs wild with all sorts of scenarios that she got inspired from by porn and hentai that she bookmarks when one of the girls looks similar to you.

pervert! meloco kyoran who puts on lingerie in your favorite color beneath her clothes whenever she’s at your place ‘just in case’ of moments like you tripping over her umbrella and accidentally catching a full view of her lace panties that perfectly matched the stockings she paired with them. she’ll feign modesty and close her legs together, pretending to be embarrassed with a blush and smirk while calling you a pervert and scolding you not to look at her underwear with an exaggerated childish tone. she loves the attention and how flustered you look as you try to coordinate an apology without stuttering up a storm, getting a kick out of pretending that you are just as depraved as she is for a few seconds even though you are an innocent angel and she’s a dirty pervert.

pervert! meloco kyoran who rummages through your laundry pile in your bathroom and steals your panties while you sleep, noticing how different they are from her sultry silks and satins— cotton undies that have vibrant colors with cute little patterns, it just makes her gush even more about how cute you are! she definitely pockets her favorite ones.

pervert! meloco kyoran who insists on taking you shopping at victoria’s secret or someplace after the whole incident because you’re just too pretty to be wearing mismatched undergarments! don’t get her wrong, she loves how clueless you are on why you should worry about what you look like beneath your clothes, but she wants to see you get embarrassed in sexy nightwear like the ones that she wears! it’s different from seeing you in a bikini, which is socially acceptable to wear in public at the right place, but lingerie is only for the eyes of yourself and someone you’re sexually involved with! she laughs when you get all shy at the bras and thongs and such, but the real icing on the cake is when she enters the changing room with you after picking out about eight different things for you to try on. you’re both girls, there isn’t any reason to be shy! the door and walls go all the way down anyway, no one will notice anything!

pervert! meloco kyoran who promised not to look at you while you change, but she’s weak to temptation and snuck a few peaks before deciding that she couldn’t wait anymore! no normal person would be able to resist you in your nude beauty, much less someone as dirty as her! maybe she purposely put herself in such a spot because she had all this planned, but who knows! she didn’t even need to peel off your clothes, just dropping to her knees with a mischievous glint in her eyes and moving your legs over her shoulders before you could even exclaim that you guys were in public where every sound could be heard by someone in the bustling shop if they happened to notice.

pervert! meloco kyoran who gets even more excited when she can read your panicked concerns in your eyes because the risk of getting is more of a turn-on for her really, knowing that someone else might hear her tongue-fucking you without knowing who was doing such an intimate deed in a store’s changing room. she rubs circles into your thighs to soothe your worries (unsuccessfully, but she can’t wait forever), darting out her tongue to taste the sweet fruit that she’s been fantasizing about ever since she met you.

pervert! meloco kyoran who absolutely eats up your pretty expressions with her lidded magenta eyes memorizing how lovely you looked and sounded— unable to say form words of protest of how you shouldn’t in public since you covered your mouth to prevent any melodic whimpers from spilling over, beads of sweat running down the sides of your face, your eyes scrunched up and unable to make eye contact— how she wished she could take a picture!

pervert! meloco kyoran who keeps her questionable (to put it lightly) ways even after the two of you get into an official relationship. in fact, she might be a bit worse now that no one really bats an eye at how she goes a little overboard with the pda like they used to or now that she can express her lustful desires for you more freely now. the best part for her is watching her behavior slowly rub off on you as you start showing cues of wanting her touch by pulling on the hem of her skirt and biting on your lip in embarrassment before she whisks you away into a storage closet with an excuse to leave the student council meeting early to stick her fingers down your pants. no matter how perverse you think you may have become because of her influence, you need to remember that she’ll always be a bigger pervert for you than you will ever be for her!