#looking forward to getting to see him and to sleeping beside him again bc that’s honestly the nicest experience | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tojisun · 12 days

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was struck suddenly by this thought

okay biker!simon but he's got his shit together and he's hubby and you have a kid (2yo?) with him

in India, bikes are the primary mode of transport everyone has one and lots of the kids love love going on rides. my 2nd cousin (?) (relations are diff there) he's 2 years old and he's the cutest thing in the world and he will not sleep at night until his dad takes him out for a spin on the bike. he comes back all smiley and sleepy it's so fucking cute omfg

IMAGINE THAT WITH SIMON

( bikes aren't seen as dangerous in India bc literally every household has one and people will carry their babies on the bike. ik it's different elsewhere but I just cannot stop thinking ab simon going for a spin with his baby :((( )

love you, drink water sunny 👊

ur cousin not sleeping till he gets a ride is so cute omg :((( such a cutie pie 🥺

but no absolutely!! i feel like biker!simon would spoil his kids sm that they get demanding when he doesn’t get to take them out on a ride

thinking about your little two year old girl waiting patiently in the living room while her dad washes up (simon closed the shop today), with her little helmet already strapped in. the tv is on for reruns of cartoons but she’s distracted, squirming at every drop of sound, thinking it’s simon finally out of the shower.

you chuckle as you rub her back, trying to make her calm down, but you guess her exhaustion and excitement are finally mixing, making one whiny baby. you pitch forward to press a kiss on her little fist.

that, at least, makes her look at you.

“excited, little pea?” you ask, brushing your thumb on the apple of her cheek.

“mhmm!” she says before turning back to her cartoons.

what a blessing she is.

simon pops out of the corner just then, crooning, “ready to go, peanut?”

your daughter squeals, scrambling to get off the couch to run towards simon. simon laughs, crouching down and opening his arms to embrace her, but she’s barrelling into him too fast, unable to stop, and it knocks her helmet against his chin.

“jesus–”

“daddy, go!” is all what your daughter says, so impatient and spoiled, and simon just coos again, finding no fault in her little demands.

“of course, of course.” he stands up. “let’s say bye to mommy?”

you stand then too, moving close to them carefully. your beloved angel turns at hearing simon’s words, her pudgy cheeks now rounder with her smile. “buh-bye!”

“bye bye, darlin’,” you reply, kissing her little fist again. “have fun with daddy, yeah? tell him to ride carefully because he’s got my whole world with him.” this you say to simon, playful and teasing.

simon scrunches his nose in reply—fatherhood looks so beautiful in him.

“don’t worry, love. y’know i’ll do everything to keep her safe,” he murmurs, pressing close to breathe you in. “we’ll be home in twenty. see you then.”

you kiss his jaw. “see you then, baby.”

your little angel waves her goodbyes again before they disappear to the garage, simon’s quiet murmurs filling up the space while your daughter hums in replies, still not yet ready for much words.

simon hefts himself up and places her in front of him, making sure that her helmet is secured and her jacket’s all zipped up. it is a quiet routine, one that simon completes with ferocious intensity. he’s never once skipped out on this, never once had been lazy with it, and it makes your heart warm.

he looks up after his final check, turning to you with one last wave, before he’s snapping his visor down and revving the engine. then they’re off.

later, simon will come back with a slumbering princess in his arms. you two make a quiet work on removing her helmet and her shoes, before simon takes her to sleep. then, he’ll slide in beside you, pull you in for cuddles, before recounting their little adventure to you.

IM SORRY THIS BECAME A RAMBLE AND ITS NOT EVEN ABOUT THE BIKE RIDE BUT ITS JUST :((( dad simon is so so precious

love you too vi and yes im gulping down rn as i type!!

#violet <3 #ask #biker!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #dad simon riley

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kenlvry · 1 year

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Team stan with a fem s/o who likes to draw on herself

stan and the gang with f!reader who draws on herself

cw, sexual jokes,

kenny

he finds it so cute. he'd look over at you to see if your paying attention and see you just drawing on your hand

he looks forward to the multiple drawings on your palm. sometimes even he draws on them, usually he draws penises or stickmen of you and him

is still surprise how you manage to wash it all off and come to school with a clean hand as if you didn't draw the fucking forest on your hand the day before

"kenny stop drawing dicks what if a teacher sees" "can i draw dicks leaking cum" "WHAT THE FUCK 😢😢"

one time you got sent to mackeys for his stupid ass penis drawing and you don't let him draw on your hand ever again

stan

i like to think he does this too, class is boring and the only way to distract him from sleeping is to draw on his hands.

you two definitely play tic tac toe. you both draw the columns on your hands and you place an x at a spot he'd draw it on his hand and you do the same when he puts a o on a empty spot.

Kyle's inbetween you two and just watching you raise your hand to stan and stan go "oooo good one" and drawing something on his hand.

once he even saw you drawing on your thighs and he's like HUH😧😧. luckily your skirt was a bit long and hide the very inappropriate drawings you did.

kyle

finds it cute, you sit beside him and its so exciting for him to see you draw something on your hand bc after this class ends he examines every drawing you did.

he would definitely draw on your hand, sometimes he writes things for you to read while in class like "hi y/n see you after your next class :)"

he also doesn't understand how you come to school the next day with clean ass hands, his hands is still full of the flowers and hearts you drew yesterday like huh did you bleach your hands??

contemplates wether to draw stick men fucking each other..... nah... or maybe he should??

cartman

finds it so goofy, like baby we're in highschool why you drawing on your hand?? 🤣🤣

would report to a teacher "teacher y/ns drawing dicks on her hand again 🥺🥺" AS IF HE DIDN'T DREW THEM BEFOREHAND

you do not let him draw on your hand but he goes all emotional and you have to just to have your hands full of penises and fuck you's written.

he actually finds it so adorable like damn you are so cute🤭🤞🤞

butters

POOR BOY THOUGHT IT WAS TATTOOS 😭😭. he was so concerned "where did you get them?? aren't you still underaged?? did it hurt??" when you said it came from a pen he was like 🧍😧 "YOU DRAW SO WELL" its literally a flower with a cat beside it.

he brings a jacket to school so he can give it to you so you can hide the drawings on your hand.

he still thinks it hurts cz a pens tip is like pointy,,, how do you do it??

draws on your hands too, you can easily tell which one he drew and which one you drew bc on your left hand is cats, smily faces, flowers hearts and stickmen holding each others arm and on the right is a huge penis also flowers and then a cat dancing.

#south park #south park x y/n #south park x you #kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick x reader #south park x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh #eric cartman x reader #eric cartman #leopold butters stotch #butters x reader

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harryforvogue · 1 month

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Maybe something for Harry and Yasmine where she takes care of Harry? Like he gets super sick or something. I feel like she would love the chance to look after him bc he is always so caring towards her

Harry leans on the counter, his eyes heavy but open enough to watch Yasmine pour some medicine into a tablespoon. She brings it over to his mouth, hovering it in the air with another hand under the spoon to catch any drops.

He smiles, leaning in with his mouth open. The medicine goes down his throat smoothly, but he can’t help but pull a grimace. “You know,” Harry says after a cough, “the medicine comes with a measuring cup.”

“My mom always would pour it into a tablespoon. It was the perfect measurement. You’ll just have to take it a little more frequently, but that’s better than waiting six hours. You wouldn’t want me waking you up in the middle of the night right?”

She turns away to the sink to wash the spoon. Harry slinks forward, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, putting his burning cheek against her cold one. He groans appreciatively. “I never mind you waking me up.”

Yasmine’s hands falter briefly before finishing up. She puts the spoon aside and leans back against him. “You’re too warm, Harry. You need to rest.”

“Why are you avoiding saying I’m hot?” he grumbles back playfully against her neck.

Yasmine shivers, running her hands over his strong forearms. “I’m serious, Harry. Come.”

She manages to wrestle out of his hold (despite his state, he’s still got a mean hold), taking his burning hand. She leads him to the living room, shaking him off when he latches himself back on her frame. He lands on the sofa, tilting his head back with a congested sigh. “I’m not tired,” he says, sounding both nasally and childish.

“I’m not telling you to sleep.” She takes a nearby blanket, wrapping him up in it, tucking the ends under his chin. His green eyes watch her movement carefully. “I need you to sweat this out.”

Harry wrinkles his nose. “Can you not talk so sexy to me?”

Yasmine rolls her eyes and sits beside him, grabbing a pillow. She puts it on her thighs and then pats it. “Come.”

Harry doesn’t need to be told twice. He all but flies closer to her, lifting his legs to lay horizontally, resting his head on her leg. Instead of facing away, however, he presses his nose to her stomach and sighs again.

“What hurts?” Yasmine says, running her fingers through his hair. The sweat has made it go slightly greasy, but she doesn’t care.

“My head.”

So Yasmine gently starts rubbing his temples. He hums with relief, closing his eyes.

“I’ve still got to cancel class.”

She says, “I’ll handle that.”

“Mm. My email is open on my laptop. Be nice to them.”

“I am nice,” she scowls.

“Mhm.”

Yasmine continues to rub his head, dipping down to his neck and shoulders to hear that groan of relief. He sneezes once, and then spends the next several minutes shivering.

“When I was younger,” Yasmine says softly, thumbing through his eyelashes, “and I had a terrible fever, my mom would wet some paper towels and put them on my forehead and under my arms. If you continue to get sicker, I’ll have to do that.”

“Mmmm.”

“It always felt really good, but I think that was only effective to bring my body temperature down. I was still sick afterwards.” When her hand rubs his back, he breathes deeply. “Maybe you have strep. Let’s go to the clinic tomorrow.”

Harry opens his eyes tiredly, going against all his big talk from moments ago. “I’m perfectly satisfied with my hot girlfriend nursing me back to life.”

Despite herself, Yasmine smiles, cupping his warm cheek. “I can only do so much, you know?”

He takes her hand, kisses it, and tucks it under his chin for safe keeping. “You do more than enough for me on any given day,” he says hoarsely, turning his head in to cough. “Just seeing your face is so…so–” he coughs and coughs and coughs, “nice.”

“It was real hard to say that huh?” Yasmine laughs quietly, and at the sound of her laugh, Harry looks back up at her.

“My throat hurts so bad.”

She can’t help it, so she says, “My poor big baby.”

“You act as if you’re on your deathbed when you have a cold, Yasmine.”

“I don’t need to be coddled though.”

Harry gives her a meaningful look. “Yasmine, I have to block off my calendar when you get sick. It’s like there’s a tornado in my house. You are so incredibly clingy and annoying, it’s like an alter ego or something.”

Yasmine says, “All right, that’s enough.”

Some quiet moments pass by with Yasmine just caressing Harry’s face. Then he says, “I want an ice cold coke right now.”

“Keep dreaming,” she answers.

“I want those cold spicy noodles you make.”

“Nope.”

“And an ice cube to munch on.”

“Nope.”

“I want to pinch your cheek so hard.”

That startles Yasmine, but she recovers quickly with her signature frown. “I hate when you do that. It hurts.”

“Good.” He smiles slightly.

She goes back to massaging his head. At some point, her legs go numb, but that’s around the time Harry’s breathing evens out, signaling he’s asleep. She lets him stay there, admiring his face and curls as she scratches at his scalp, wishing she could bend down far enough to kiss him.

“I love you,” she murmurs to his sleeping form, giving his curls a gentle tug. He shivers, as if the message has reached him even in his sleep.

#you ask and i shall give #harry and yasmine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff

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filmbyjy · 1 year

Text

GOOD MORNING

PAIRING: park jongseong x gn!reader

SUMMARY: spending a night at your idol boyfriend’s dorm was surely amazing but waking up next to him was even better.

GENRE: FLUFF😖 YOUR HONOUR THIS DRABBLE IS EXTREMELY ADORABLE😭 also jake is being salty as fuck bc you two woke him up and the poor baby is tired :(( belift let the boys have a good rest tyvm.

WARNING: mentioned ‘sex’ like once as a joke

NOTE: all I can say is…THIS IS MAKING ME WANT A BOYFRIEND👹 IM SO SINGLE TF

“jongseong~” you slurred out. your boyfriend giddily smiles. maybe drinking wine wasn’t a smart move since you had to go home. to be fair, you only drank because your boyfriend had just came back from tour. he was also the one who suggested drinking wine since he mentioned how it suits him more as compared to beer or soju.

your head rests on his shoulders.

“let’s get you to bed, love.” jay whispers. you whined.

“but if i go to bed...how will i see your pretty face? i haven’t seen it since 2 months ago.”

jay chuckles, “come on. you can see more of my face in the morning.”

you whined once again. jay pecks your forehead.

“let’s go. you can sleep in bed-”

“with you?” your eyes sparkled.

jay smiles before leaning in to give your forehead a peck. “with me.”

you giggled, “i get to sleep with such a handsome boy.”

jay snorts, “come on.” he lightly tugs on your arms.

you stood up and jay leads you into his shared bedroom with jake.

“alright-”

you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him forward after he tucks you in bed.

“mmm, sleep with me jongseong~”

with jake being in the same room as jay, he clearly heard whatever you drunkenly slurred out. the poor boy’s eyes widened.

“dude, this is my room too. please do the sex somewhere else.” jake gestures to the bathroom.

“fuck off, they’re drunk and they meant sleep as in not sex.” jay throws his ryan plushie at the boy. jake yelps as he attempts to dodge the plushie from hitting him.

you giggle, “I wouldn’t mind-”

“you’re drunk. goodnight.” jay slides into the covers beside you. “jake, shut the lights.”

jake grumbles, “fine.”

the next morning, you stirred in your sleep. you felt a grip tighten around your waist and so it caused you to wake up. you turned to the figure. you reached out to push back the fallen hair pieces away from his face (his god-like face).

your eyes trailed down to meet with his cute pouty lips. it looked irresistible and you wanted to possibly wake him up with a kiss.

but is it too much? you just woke up and was previously drunk on wine. would your breath stink? would your dear god-like boyfriend care? oh my god, what if he-

“you know, love. if you’re not going to do it. I will do it for you.” jay says.

“what?” you say in shock. his eyes flutter open and quickly meet yours.

“i mean what I said, my love.”

“jay, my breath stinks.”

“and? I want my morning kiss.” he says. you hid your face right on his chest. he chuckles. “come on, don’t be shy now.”

“no, this is embarrassing.”

“how is waking me up with a kiss embarrassing?”

“you caught me nearly doing it.”

“well you didn’t do it so i’m sad.” jay pouts.

“I don’t want to embarrass myself, jongseong.”

“do I look like I care? I want a kiss from the person I love.”

“nooo-” your whining gets interrupted.

“can you two shut the fuck up, I want to sleep. it’s fucking 8am in the morning and it’s an off day for us. if you wanna be all lovey dovey, go to the fucking kitchen.” jake barks out. seems like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

it left the room dead silent. jake slams his head back onto the pillows and fell fast asleep. both you and jay turned to each other.

“want breakfast?” you asked.

“do you count as breakfast?” jay teasingly asks. you smacked his arm. he winces.

“no. i’m not on the menu.”

jay chuckles before pulling you into a hug and pecking your lips.

that was a great a start to the day.

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star-girl69 · 1 year

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I Loved You Like the Sun

a/n: daemyra is a ship that is filled with angst, so of course daemyra x reader will be filled with angst as well. honestly, get ready for the next few chapters bc it gets CRAZY

warnings: swearing, incest, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Twenty Five- Don’t Say You Love Me

—-

You heard your husband and wife talking far later into the night, whispering words about a song, ice and fire, promises of princes. But you are too content in bed, safe between warm bodies.

You know Rhaenyra is still not convinced war is the best option, while Daemon is, and you have just resigned to do whatever your Queen decides. If she asks for your council, you will give it, if she asks for your comfort, your distraction, you will give it.

When you wake, you are still bitter at both yourself and them. The possibility of Daemon still leaving was like a storm cloud over your head. Your own foolishness, hurting Rhaenyra, believing she would send you away, you wake with memories flooding your mind.

You call for her, through the mess of warm bodies and silk sheets, and of course she answers.

You roll onto your other side, staring at her. Hair mussed from sleep, lips dry and cracked, eyes closed and voice rough.

You do nothing but press a kiss to her forehead, seeing her eyes open with amusement.

She barely has time to smile at you before a handmaiden knocks on the door, shouting that it’s time to get ready for the day.

You see Rhaenyra’s face fall, take on that self-blaming, guilty, apathetic look of a Queen. You have never wished more desperately for her to smile.

And she does, weakly, before she sits, leaving you cold and lonely. You turn, seeking warmth in your husband, and he wraps a gentle arm around you as you lay your head on his chest.

Your mood sours when you remember he might leave.

—-

Rhaenyra takes your hand, pulling it to hers. She traces the lines of your palm, and you have to tug your chair closer to properly let her.

The voices of lords fade to the background, and you are no longer planning a war. You are simply with your wife.

You don’t speak, afraid your words will act like knives and shatter the moment.

But it shatters anyway.

“The Lord of the Tides!” A guard calls, and you watch as the heavy wooden doors open. “Lord Corlys Velaryon…” The heavy sound of his cane hitting the floor, reminding you so vividly of your husband. It does truly seem like a lifetime ago. “and his wife, the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.”

You stand with Rhaenyra, frown when she lets your hand fall, watch as Rhaenys and Corlys move slowly down the stairs, your daughters trailing behind them.

You hear Rhaenyra and Lord Corlys exchange pleasantries, but you selfishly move past him and his wife to Baela and Rhaena. They smile when they see you, and you are undeniably proud.

Rhaena presses herself into your waiting arms, and you press your lips to her temple. Baela wraps her arms around you, and you tilt your head to kiss her cheek. You murmur how pretty they look, and they thank you, Baela sending a glance over to Jace as she does so. Your heart swells, but you send them off, and they go to stand beside their betrothed.

Corlys hits his cane to the ground again, much softer, bringing you back to reality.

“Where is Daemon?” The Lord asks, eyes crawling over the room critically.

“There were other concerns which demanded the Prince’s attention.” Rhaenyra says, hands clasped in front of her, ever the perfect diplomat.

“Hm,” Lord Corlys says, glancing at her before stepping forward. His eyes sweep the room again, landing on you. “Lady Targaryen.” He greets, and you let a smile take over your face.

“Lord Corlys,” you nod your head, and he smiles. But it fades as he steps closer to the Painted Table, surveying it.

“Your declared allies?” he asks, getting straight to the point. Rhaenys meets your eyes, and she nods towards you, and you return it, slipping your way past her to be back at Rhaenyra’s side.

“Yes.” Rhaenyra answers, hand brushing your waist briefly as she step forward, a silent demand. You follow her as she comes closer to the Painted Table, to Lord Corlys.

This meeting, you know, is essential. Without the Velaryon’s support, you are lost. Which is why it is best Daemon is not there. For no matter war, he killed Vaemond, and Lord Corlys respects names and blood.

“Too few to win a war for the throne.”

You watch Rhaenyra scramble, ever-so-slightly, something only you could pick up on.

“Well, we would also hope to have the support of Houses Arryn, Baratheon, and Stark.”

“Hope… is the fool’s ally.” You watch as Rhaenyra falters, hesitating and choosing words carefully.

“Both Arryn and Baratheon share blood with my house. But all of them swore oaths to me.”

“As did House Hightower…” he retorts, “if I remember.”

“As did you, Lord Corlys.”

The hall is silent for another moment, until Corlys turns to look upon his grandchildren.

“Your fathers realm… was one of justice and honor. Our houses are bound by common blood and common cause. This Hightower treason cannot stand.” He plants his feet into the ground, spine straightening, eyes meeting Rhaenyra’s. “You have the full support of our fleet and house. Your Grace.” He bows, and you almost feel your heart burst from your chest.

You feel her hand grab yours.

“You honor me, Lord Corlys.” But when you look up at him, he is not looking at your wife. Instead, he looks upon his own. Rhaenyra turns, nodding grateful to Rhaenys. “Princess Rhaenys.” She nods, and you swear you see a smile on her face.

You let out your own sigh of relief. Slowly, but surely, your ranks were swelling and victory was in your sight.

Your feel her hand squeeze yours, the connection of skin hidden beneath layers of skirts. She breaths heavily, nerves overtaking her again before she speaks.

“But, as I said to my bannermen, I made a promise to my father to hold the realm story and united. If war’s first stroke is to fall, it will not be by my hand.”

“You do not mean to act?” He asks, clarifying, and you can tell he is incredulous.

“Taking caution does not mean standing fast. I wish to know who my ally’s are before I send them to war.”

He nods, taking another few steps around the table. Soon, he is only a few feet away from the two of you.

“The consequence of my… near-demise in the Stepstones… is that we know control them.”

You feel Rhaenyra’s sharp intake of breath, feel hope rise in your chest.

“I took care to fully garrison the territory this time. A total blockade of the shipping lanes will be in place in days, if not already. The Triarchy have been routed. The Narrow Sea is ours.”

Rhaenyra raises her head, understanding crossing her features as she turns to you. You smile, hope it is reassuring.

“If we further seal the Gullet, we can cut off all seaborne travel and trade to King’s Landing.” His hand traces over the Painted Table, resting over the city.

“I shall take Meleys and patrol the Gullet myself.” Rhaenys declares, coming forth to the table beside you. She looks at Rhaenyra, a true smile on her face.

“When we drain the Narrow Sea, we can surround King’s Landing. Lay siege to the Red Keep,” one of the lord’s councils. “and force the Greens’ surrender.”

Rhaenyra’s hand falls from yours, but you keep a frown from taking over your face.

“We should near those messages.” Jace interjects. “Dragons can fly faster than ravens and they’re more convincing. Send us.”

Now, you cannot help the frown taking over your face. Rhaenyra pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, and you can truly tell she is considering it.

“Are… are we sure that is… safe?” You ask, fingers winding together nervously, and Jace and Luke meet your gaze from across the table.

“No.” Lord Corlys admits. “But he is right.”

Before you, your children seem strong. Capable. Powerful and unforgettable. You know they could do it. But is it so wrong to not want them to leave?

Rhaenyra turns to you.

“Y/N,” she starts, slowly, “I know you don’t want anyone to leave. But this is not a matter of want, my love. This is a matter of need.”

And you know it is wrong, you know you are being cruel, but you grab her hands with your own. She smiles, looks at your hopefully.

“Let me go.” She drops your hands, disdain taking over her face.

“Out of the question.”

“No, no, Rhaenyra, I want to go. Let me go.” She shots you a glare, turning back to the table.

While it would be nice to be cruel for once, to hold power over them, make your husband and wife know the agony of being left behind, you want to be free. You want to spread your wings, to properly show off Cannibal, to be useful and have purpose.

“Please, Rhaenyra.”

“Your Grace, if I may.” And your eyes flick to Princess Rhaenys, hopeful. “You know quite well what dragon Lady Targaryen rides. In the matter of House Baratheon… The Dragon of the Night might help persuade him.”

She stands, ridged, hands digging into the edge of the Painted Table.

“Fine,” she hisses, some of that apathetic Queen mask falling, the woman you feel in love with resurfacing. “Prince Jacaerys will fly north. First to the Eyrie to see my mother’s cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn, then to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the north.”

“Thank you, Mother. I will not fail.”

You smile at him, hands still nervous, winding together, but you push it aside. You care more for your children then you do yourself. You know traveling to Storm’s End, a place true to its name, will be hard for their smaller dragons.

“Prince Lucerys will fly south to Tarth and Evenfall Hall. I am quite sure of their support already, but I would wish to show them respect.”

She inhales, but doesn’t look at you. Perhaps she cannot find it in herself to. But you look at her. You always look at her.

“Finally, Lady Targaryen will also fly south, to Storm’s End, and treat with Lord Borros. We must remind these lords of the oaths they swore. And… the cost of breaking them.”

—-

The bluffs of Dragonstone are loud with waves crashing, the heavy footsteps of dragons, their loud breaths. But Rhaenyra stands, looking out, unwavering.

She turns as you approach her with your sons. She does not smile. You know this is hard for her.

“It’s been said that as Targaryens, we are closer to gods than to men. And the Iron Throne puts us a touch closer, perhaps. But, if we are the serve the Seven Kingdoms… we must answer to their gods. We do not have to believe what we say, but we must say it regardless. You will swear to me, now, that you will go as messengers. Not warriors.”

A guard brings forth a heavy tome, a book of the Seven you recognize by the seven-pointed star Alicent wore on its cover.

“Swear that you will go as messengers.” It feels wrong to place your hand upon it, but you do. Your sons follow.

“I swear it,” you say, and your boys repeat it. Rhaenyra nods, an absentminded smile ghosting her face.

“Thank you.” She nods, and the book is taken away. “Cregan Stark is… closer to your age than mine. I hope, as men, you can find common interest. The Tarth’s helped your grandsire after his injury. I am quite sure any treating will be easy.”

You turn to Luke. His eyes filled with fear. His joy at being confirmed Lord of the Tides had not lasted long, realization setting in. You know he is scared. But you also know he a brave, sweet boy.

“I will fly with you most of the way,” you soothe, and he nods. “The Tarths will be honored to host a prince of the realm. And his handsome dragon.” He smiles, although it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

Rhaenyra weaves by you, grabbing his hands.

“I expect you will receive a very warm welcome, darling.” Rhaenyra smiles, and he nods once.

“Yes, mother. Your Grace.” She runs a soothing hand down his shoulder, and you wrap a hand around his neck and press a kiss to his hair. “Goodbye, mother.” He says to you, pulling away, and you smile.

She turns to you, as the boys make their way to Vermax and Arrax, you stay behind.

“Borros Baratheon is a proud man. Insufferable. Your welcome will not be as warm, I expect, but the threat of Cannibal will protect you.” She grabs your hand, thumb rubbing your skin, staring deeply into your eyes. “Do not tell me I don’t have to memorize you. I am Queen, and I will look at my wife for as long as I want.” You smile, let her assuage herself, eyes roaming your features. “Alright. Best you go, quick. I expext Daemon has just received my message, and he will stop you.”

“Tell- tell him I love him?” You ask, hating how your eyes fill.

“If he can even look at me,” she jokes. “My love…”

And she presses her lips to yours, and you sink into her, wanting, needing more of her. But she pulls away.

“This is not a goodbye.” She says, forehead pressed to yours, voice tight.

“Nyra, I-”

“Please don’t say you love me.” She whispers, and you see the wet trail of salt fall down her face. You have the urge to lick it off her, like she did to you at your wedding.

“Okay. Okay, I won’t.”

She nods, and hesitates, but pushes you away before she can pull you back in again.

You don’t want to say goodbye. So you smile at her, and she smiles back.

—-

As Cannibal moves beneath you, muscles churning, the sound of wind filling your ears, you cannot resist the urge to look behind you.

There your wife stands, looking out over the bluffs of Dragonstone, unwavering.

—-

taglist:

@wondergal2001 @akiraquote @a-lil-bit-nuts @anginoguera @thatkinkylesgirl1 @stitchattacks @honeypillowsblog @kaloafd @blackhoodlea @softtina @wallace02sblog @tetgod @hotd-fanfic @rxscpctals @iramagnus

#daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader

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hyuganejiswife · 2 years

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Puppy Love | Megumi Fushiguro X GNReader

Masterlist

| REQUESTED, fluff, comfort, cuddle, demon dogs are OUT and big softies, somewhat established relationship just not official bc y’all both cowards

Word Count: 742

Note: Requests are open… patiently awaiting them🥹

You’d been tossing and turning all night, unable to get an ounce of sleep yet you were exhausted. It seemed as though every day was a struggle to get through, and the nights were no easier. Your dorm is quiet and dark, the only light being that from the moon peeking through your curtains drawn over your window.

You sigh and sit up, crawling out of bed and shuffling to the door with a singular goal in mind, perhaps even a silly one that would surely get you laughed at.

As your hand raises to knock on the door of your neighbor, it swings open revealing a rather tired looking man. His dorm is lit up by his bedside table and he looks down at you as if he’d been expecting you all this time.

Really, he had. He wasn’t entirely certain why, but when he had woken up and had the gut feeling that something was going on with you, he couldn’t help but want to come check on you. “What’re you doing awake?”

He doesn’t mean to sound so cold, you know that much. It still rubs you the wrong way, as if it was bother that you’d come to his door even though he had already been away. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t sleep. I was hoping that… Maybe…” You trail off, rubbing the back of your neck and mumbling quietly, “Well, I was wondering whether I could use one of your demon dogs to cuddle with tonight? I thought that it might help me sleep a little better.”

He’s surprised.

You want to cuddle one of his demon dogs?

“Oh… Sure?” It sounds more like a question, yet he doesn’t hesitate, looking back over his shoulder as the black one steps forward from the shadows, nudging against your hand at your side. It’s far more affectionate than it would be in any other scenario and perhaps that itself is a reflection of Megumi’s own feelings.

“Thank you,” you whisper, turning and leading the shikigami back to your dorm.

When your door closes, he steps out into the hallway and stares for a moment. He’s trying to decipher what could possibly be going through your mind that was causing you so much trouble. Against his better judgement, he closes his door behind himself and knocks on your door just a few feet away. You had yet to climb back into bed, his knocks stopping you as you’d been preparing your blankets and pillows. He doesn’t wait for you to open the door, simply allowing himself in and smiling softly at the sight of you. “Sorry. I just wanted to check on you.” He glances at the black fluff laying on your bed, having been ready for your company. “Go ahead.”

You laugh a bit, climbing onto the bed and allowing the man to sit beside you as you lay down, curling your fingers into the black fur of the demon dog. He hesitates but lays a hand on your back. “I don’t know what’s wrong, if I’m being honest. I just… I feel stupid. There’s no reason. I’m just feeling like this.”

He remains silent to process what you’ve said and to allow you to speak again if you so desire to. He sighs and shifts, slipping his legs beneath the blankets and turning so that his chest is against your back. He slips an arm around your waist, holding you close. “It’s okay. I’m here for you. I’m always going to be here for you. I know I’m not the best at… expressing myself, which has been why I’ve put off asking you to be mine too, but I won't leave you. Ever.”

When you laugh, he frowns and pinches your waist. At the sound of you only laughing harder at him, he presses his face against your shoulder and growls quietly, hoping that he at least sounds a bit threatening. “Thank you, Gumi.”

“Oh God… Please don’t.”

“Gumi. Gumi. Gumi. Too bad. I like calling you that, it’s cute.”

“Just… Not in front of Itadori.”

“We’ll see.”

He smiles and takes it at that, pulling you closer as he settles comfortably, hoping to guide your breathing and lull you to sleep by being so close to him. He’s happy that you’re sandwiched between himself and the dog, knowing that he’d be there to comfort and protect you and hoping you felt just how much he cared for you.

#bleu.writes #jjk #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #Megumi fluff #megumi imagine #Megumi Drabble

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larsnicklas · 3 months

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INTRODUCING: megan's definitive nhl captains fuckability scale, 1 being i personally would not under any circumstances, 10 being i will fly to where you are just say the word. okay let's go team!

(disclaimer: i am joking. i don't actually want to fuck these men!! and if i vehemently do not want to fuck an nhl man you DO want to fuck. more power to you!! he's all yours!! and if i vehemently DO want to fuck a man you also want to fuck. he's still all yours i would never sleep with a hockey player i know what they're like!!!!)

ATLANTIC brad m.archand: 3.5. like i know myself he COULD rizz me up but he'd have to work pretty hard like it wouldn't be an automatic yes sasha b.arkov: 9. he has an Aura he would not have to work hard at all i would in fact be working to rizz HIM up (<- matthew ghostwrote) steven s.tamkos: 4. this goes up to like a 7. if we invite h.edman. john t.avares: 3.5. ok don't get me wrong here. he IS handsome!! but i'm not getting any vibes here that say we would work. like it's not a NO. but it's not like i'm Interested off the bat. and i don't think he could rizz me up. kyle o.kposo: 6.5. like yeah i would. wouldn't go out of my way to approach but if approached would say yes. nick s.uzuki: 5. cute!! a true neutral imo. he does seem stressed often (side effect of being h.abs captain) so like maybe for fun. out of the goodness of my heart. to loosen him up a little. etc. brady t.kachuk: 2. NOT bc he's not fuckable in his own right but because the spectre of his brother would be hanging over me. does that make sense.

METRO jake t.rouba: 8. have long had a fondness for him. decent politics which is SO rare so that probably actually pushes him to a 9. jordan s.taal: 1. not the worst s.taal. but also i do have standards. i realize this list is not really backing me up on that claim. but i do have them. f.lyers rep: if most recent captain (g.iroux) like a 9.5. if assumed future captain (tk.onecny) like probably a 4. not for me but could be persuaded. if g.ritty — sidney c.rosby: 2. this is once again not a general fuckability scale it's a personal one. i would not fuck a pittsburgh p.enguin. if he goes to another team ever (i don't want him to!! he's a p.enguin for life!!) we can revisit this. nico h.ischier: 8. solid 8. good vibes, nice hair, big brown eyes. like he wouldn't have to work that hard you know. alex o.vechkin: 9. huge man. face that is interesting to look at (this is a compliment). at the stars game this weekend he knocked a guy over and then stood over him imposingly. i think i blacked out. boone j.enner: 2. my mind slides over him. i KNOW he exists. but my brain doesn't. like he's not that objectionable per se i just don't see a world in which i wouldn't instead go for whatever guy he's standing next to.

CENTRAL gabe l.andeskog: 9.5. this is not a looks thing. he IS handsome but it's in a bland way. this is an Aura thing and also a Hockey thing. power forward with commanding presence who can wrangle a team with really strong personalities. gabriel call me i am free on thursdays — jamie b.enn: 0. less than a 1. my least favorite n.hl player besides the ones who are actual criminals. terrible rep around here with locals. tips like shit. bunchmoxgate. under no circumstances would i consider him fuckable. in my mind joe p.avelski is the stars captain lmao. adam l.owry: 6. would clock him across a bar but not be interested enough to go over. but would be down if asked. brayden s.chenn: 6.5. i think he's really personable. another one that's like, it wouldn't be an immediate yes but he definitely could charm me. it would be more of a yeah this could be fun than an I Want You kind of way but nonetheless i would c.oyotes rep: is their most recent captain o.el?? it's been such a long time then...? he's like an 8. if a current alternate... 6 for c.rouse, 7 for s.chmaltz, 4 for k.eller. jared s.purgeon: 5. no he's not very tall but neither am i so it's fine. i think he does have a vibe i could be into hypothetically. but i'd have to see. chicago rep: i would not fuck a chicago b.lackhawk captain of the last few decades etc.

PACIFIC quinn h.ughes: 7 in a vacuum. 3 in the context of feeling bad about how much i want his teammate. mark s.tone: 5. true neutral again here. wouldn't go for him but wouldn't walk away. connor m.cdavid: 6.5? i think this would depend on whether funny dorky connor or very media trained connor showed up. hey do you think he'd tell me why he didn't go to dylan's wedding — anze k.opitar: 8.5. yes. hard yes. i'd be seeking flirtatious eye contact from across the room. k.raken rep: okay if we're talking most recent captain (g.iordano) i would say that's like a 3. not interested but not like. repulsed. of the alternates though. adam l.arsson YOU are an 8. call me anytime. mikael b.acklund: 6.5. like i could be into him. i can see it. i think this would also be a semi pity fuck. not because HE is pitiful but because i feel bad about the state of his franchise. ducks rep: most recent captain (g.etzlaf) is probably a 4.5? the gut reaction is like a 2.5 but if i think about it. i bet he has a commanding presence. i could be persuaded i think. logan c.outure: 1. absolutely not.

#meg.txtpost #if you're like.#megan why is this SO long. it's because i've been bottling up my thoughts at every incorrect 'how many shots would it take' post i've seen

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omo-goose · 4 months

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Midnight Mishaps!

oc story under the cut bc it's longer than I thought lol

Paz woke up with a sudden jolt, both from bolting upright in his sleep, and from his suddenly very full bladder. He apparently had forgotten to go before he had headed to bed earlier, and now he sat there groggly trying to hold himself through the fabric of his blanket.

Shay shifted in bed beside him, awoken from the commotion.

“Hun? y'alright?” They mumbled sleepily

“mhm”

It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dim lighting cast by the moonlight behind the curtains in their bedroom, and when they finally did, they could see their spouse half hunched with his hands between his legs with a look of sheepish embarrassment.

“uh okay m maybe not but um..” he half chuckled, then whimpered a bit as the pressure caused a small spurt to leak out.

Shay couldn’t help but give a small giggle in return. They had asked him if he’d gone before bed, but they suppose he hadn’t, evidently.

Paz blushed and whined, “Sh Shay um… I think mh maybe I need uh some help..”

“you gotta potty hun? I thought you went already” they said innocently.

He felt his cheeks grow hotter as his embarrassment grew, and much to Shay’s amusement, she could watch as something else began to grow in size.

The wet spot between his thighs began to spread as the telltale hissing soaked the blanket.

He moaned and leaned forward, trying to stop the flow, but Shay put their hand on his chest firmly, but gently.

“go ahead honey, go peepee, don’t hold it now” they whispered encouragingly.

He whimpered again as he tried to relax, feeling the warmth continue to spread and puddle around him on the oversaturated sheets.

“Good boy! Now you see why it’s important to potty before bed!” Shay cooed cheerfully

Paz just nodded as he layer in the warm wet blankets, feeling more tired than before.

“C’mon hun, I’ll get you cleaned right up and we’ll be back off to bed, right” they smiled at him fondly, stroking his cheek

#omo goose writes #omo ocs #omorashi

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taikanyohou · 2 years

Note

I loved VP ending, so soft and lovely and 🥺 their little family!!!!!!!!!!! And I know there is a real chance we could, maybe, get a season 02 👁️👁️

..........but is it bad that I sort of wanted a special ep or summat where we could see vegaspete having sex again? not for horny purposes, but I'm so curious to how it would be now they they're admittedly in love with each other and so on!!!!!! If it was so soft the first time, I can only imagine how sweet (or freaky??? because now they're even more open with each other??) it would be?? 😭😭😭😭

hiiiii anon!!!!!!

OKAY so. i sat on this ask for a few days bc. hmm. well. i love the idea of them two just not being able to get their hands off each other. they would be absolutely disgusting and filthy and it would be so passionate and heated and they'd have so much fun and enjoy it and there'd be some cockiness and talking dirty and whispered promises but at the same time each and every touch would feel like being sent to Heaven bc it's so weighted with wantanddesireandloveandlustandthisisn'tenoughineedmoremoremoremore.

like. until they're in the hospital, i'd like to think they just make out extremely heavily, give each other handjobs/blowjobs, let their hands wander over each other's bodies, under their clothes, to the point where pete can fix himself up quickly if someone was to come in, but that's it. especially after what happened with macau. and i'd like to think it's pete who says to vegas "we've got all the time in the world, and you need to be at atleast 90% minimum to satisfy me, and right now you're not. and i hate hospitals and the smell of them. so there's no way we're making love here." i'd like to think that pete just ... ya know, gives vegas encouragement like that. that he wants to see him better and healthy and up and about again, whilst at the same time also telling him how much he is looking forward to the next time they have sex too, bc he KNOWS, he KNOWS vegas is. and so he wants him to know he's just as desperate and impatient too. and vegas sometimes just gets so .... grumpy and pouty and has this "set jaw scrunched eyebrows arms folded over his chest" look about him bc HE IS HORNY OKAY! HE NEEDS A RELEASE OKAY! dammit his BOYFRIEND is RIGHT THERE and he still can't do all the things he wants to do with him/to him. and pete finds that so SO endearing. and then sometimes vegas just smirks at pete when pete tells him "you're too weak to fuck me right now" and so he says to him "you better be ready once we're out of here. bc this time, i'm hungry. i'm starving for you."

and it's so. beautiful. that. now they're not tied down to anything or anyone. they literally have ALL the time in the world. they dont have to answer to anyone, give intel to anyone, feedback to anyone, have any loyalty whatsoever to anyone else besides each other. its just! bliss! bliss! bliss!

and so when vegas is discharged and they're home, i'd like to think all vegas has to do is give macau A Look. and that's it. Just One Look. and macau will Get It.

and yeah i think the 1st night back home from the hospital, pete would start off with the whole "oh you should rest and get one good night's sleep in YOUR bed" and vegas just has. NONE OF IT. NONE. OF. IT.

he's been through the THICK of it. he's had a little taste of death and come back from it knowing what it is he exactly wants. and that's pete. and no one and nothing is going to stop him.

so yeah, i'd like to think their first. well. no. not first. their next time. would be so so intense. there's SO MUCH MORE emotion attached now to them and this all, there's so MUCH they've both been through, both individually and together since the last time they had sex, that, believe it or not, it'd be even MORE intense than their last time. but that doesn't mean it can't/won't be "soft". they've CRAVED for and HUNGERED for and STARVED for one another, right? but even then, there's a gentleness that they have. a "we can slow this down to feel every bit of it". and even that can be filled with so much passion that it obliterates you. there'll be the "look me in the eyes" and so much kissing, so so so soooooooooooo much kissing. so much body worship and touching. and vegas LOVES pete's neck and pete adores the way vegas does what he does with his neck, whether that's holding it or licking it or whatever. and there'd be so much said about devotion between them, mixed in with smirks that can be understood as "i told you to be ready and i wasn't messing." and "do you see why i told you this was worth the wait now?".

so yeah, their next time can be BOTH things. that's what's so good about them. they can read each other so well and if one is asking for more, the other will give. and if they're asking for it to be drawn out for as long as it can, the other will do so. and if one's asking for the other to "just do whatever you want with me, have me any way you like," the other will. and if one says and names their desire and want and hunger out loud, the other will provide them and nourish them and fulfill them. there's just, that much trust and knowingness they have. they can intertwine the whole "fuck me and use me" vibe with such a heavy undertone of "i'm making love to you here" bc they do both those things. bc they're just THAT obsessively and devilishly and freakily into each other.

like. with them two. of course it'll get freaky, that's just. who they are. they take stuff to the extreme bc theyre just, such an intense couple. they could just ... spend the next week in bed, fucking each other hard and fast and rough and then making love so sweet so deep so slow for daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaays. and when macau's not at home the next morning, god, the kitchen becomes their sanctuary. and they ARE that couple that wear each other's clothes, whilst pete attempts to cook for vegas bc vegas is still healing, and vegas just stands and watches pete, what a sight to behold bc he's there, in flesh, alive and breathing.

and then vegas goes and hugs him, his hands find their way under his shirt that pete's wearing, and then cooking be damned. vegas will either cook something for them later on or he'll text macau to get something on his way home. right now, the need to worship one another is stronger.

so yeah. and i'd like to think, at ONE point, there'll be a, or some, time(s), where vegas cries during sex. bc of course he does. but pete? lets him. he doesn't stop him from crying. he comforts him in the way he holds him whilst his entire body shakes in release and he leans his forehead against him and kisses him and drinks in every sob and every whine and every moan coming out of vegas' mouth. and i'd like to think, then, that pete tells him that they really do have all the time in the world. and they've got nothing to be scared of. that he isn't made of porcelain or fine china and that nothing vegas can do is going to scare pete away. that he trusts vegas more than vegas trusts himself. that even though they're both broken people, that doesn't mean they aren't capable of building a home and a family together. that they've got more than enough love in them to love one another and macau. that there's more than enough love here to feed ourselves with. and even after that, there's still love, plenty of love, left. that he doesn't know when "choosing to love" became and turned into the act of "just loving", because it isnt even a choice anymore, it just happens. pete wakes up everyday and loves. loves vegas and loves macau. just like he eats and brushes his teeth and showers. and because vegas is vegas, and vegas feels everything so intensely, how would he not be overcome and overwhelmed by that? that he got to taste death and come back and everyday he gets to open his eyes in the morning to pete lying next to him. someone he'd burn the whole world down for. someone he'd want to live in peace and love with in their home until his last breath.

#faiza answers #love feeding love with love.#vegaspete

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lustbile · 2 years

Note

i wanna say thank you to the anon that asked you to do the hyuck x older reader bc it is very hard to find (the one that can satisfy me enough) but hyuck has been saying (teasingly maybe) how he doesnt mind dating someone older than him. not that older, just the same age as mark, his best friend. but you dislikes it whenever he just talk to you casually and brush him off when he flirts with you, and once you said you dont mess up with someone younger. he feel challenge to change your view on him + fingering to oral + dacryphilia + corruption

I will say, usually I try to write things where the reader’s age is very ambiguous, so I probably wont want to write much else exactly like this in the future. But!!! I really like this concept so maybe just this once (or twice because y’know… the last one)

warning: everything in the ask but also around a 3.4k word count

——

“What’s wrong with fucking someone older?” Haechan all but squawks from his seat on the couch across from you. You lift his head from where you lean it on Mark’s shoulder, looking briefly around you to see he had drawn everyone else’s attention, before you look back at him with a soft scowl.

“No one said anything,” Jeno mumbles confused beside him, his tongue twisting around popcorn as he speaks.

“I mean,” Haechan starts again, Jeno’s words going completely ignored as his hands flitter in front of him as he drones on, “I’d probably be willing to fuck someone older… the right person at least.”

“No one asked,” Jaemin chimes in from his seat on the floor, turning his head back and letting out a scoff when he sees Haechan shamelessly staring at you.

You all fall back into your comfortable silence, your head returning with cation to Mark’s shoulder as you try to ignore Haechan’s stare. The borderline unwatchable rom com Mark had begged to watch continues on the tv in front of you, but instead of focusing on the cheesy dialog that’s exchanged between the love interests after their clumsy excuse for a sex scene, you instead wonder what could cause Haechan’s outburst.

Yes, the love interests had an established age gap from the beginning, some vaguely weird plot about a man reconnecting with his childhood best friend’s older sister once he’s some hot shot being the angle, but ultimately their age difference didn’t hold any significance to the very empty plot.

So why did Haechan suddenly choose to proclaim his willingness to fuck someone older? It could have something to do with the way he hadn’t stopped staring at your thighs and hips the second you walked in, but that’s something you’d rather just not think about. You do distinctly remember saying more than once to the group of boys around you that you had little to no interest in sleeping with younger men, so surely Haechan wasn’t one to get his hopes up right?

———————————

Your eyes fall half shut as you stumble into the dark kitchen, the light of the oven’s clock being bright enough to force your eyes into focus, and you let out a small groan of annoyance when it reads 2:43 am.

Choosing to sleep over in an apartment full of boys was a good idea in theory, good until you woke up to Mark’s sharp knee directly in the center of your back. His bones had a lot more angles to then than it appeared, and once you realized how dry your throat was when he knocked you awake, you figured it would be a good time to shuffle to the kitchen.

You stood slightly on your toes as you walked to the sink, stretching the muscles of your calves and thighs until a shiver rolls up your spine. Once you reach the basin of the sink, your hands land roughly on the edge, as you let your head fall forward for a moment before you stand again to reach up towards the cupboard for a clean glass.

You get the glass filled with water from the tap without a hitch, and even got a few sips in as you stared blankly at the window set in front of you. It wasn’t until your fourth, and longest sip of water, did you hear the russeling behind you, and you were jumping at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Haechan might have said hi, greeted you in his rumbling, half awake voice, but you wouldn’t be able to hear him even if he had. Water slipped quickly down the wrong pipe of your throat, and you were slamming your glass down and letting rattling coughs out into the bend of your elbow as you turned to him with wild eyes.

Whatever greeting that was said, or going to be said, by him died quickly on his tongue as you coughed almost violently. Your back shakes as you gasp into the fabric of your long sleeved shirt, and you feel so shaken up, you can’t even shrug his hand off of you when he comes to gently smack between your shoulder blades.

“Was hoping I’d have you choking on something else by the time I got you alone,” he mutters playfully once your breathing evens out again, his eyes widening and his hands flying up in surrender when your eyes cut quickly towards him, the glimmer in them being nothing but murderous intent.

“I’m not one of your bros, Haechan,” you say in a warning tone, your voice still gruff from your coughing fit in a way that makes Haechan feel a little hot, but he knows if he voiced that thought he’d with no doubt get his eyes clawed out, “don’t speak to me so casually, or anything that vulgar while I’m at it.”

“Hey, look I’m sorry,” he takes one step away, sounding sincere enough for you to believe him for once, “I can acknowledge when I’ve made a bad joke.”

“If you didn’t speak to me as casually as you do, a joke wouldn’t have been made in the first place,” you argue, reaching for your glass once again to clear the sharp stinging in your throat, speaking between sips, “you forget I’m older than you.”

“Oh come on,” he scoffs, the way his eyes dance across you being dangerous just like his smile, “you say that like you’re decades older than me, we’re not that far in age.”

“Far enough that you should have some respect,” you say, wagging your index finger at him as if it will have any affect on his antics in the slightest, “sometimes you’re a little too immature for your own good.”

“Sounds like you’re afraid you can’t keep up,” he teases with wiggling eyebrows, the way he steps closer to you making your eyes squint in suspicion, “you know, I was talking about you earlier when I said what I said.”

“Really?” You ask sarcastically, leaning back against the sink to create more distance between yourself and his ever approaching body, wisely choosing to ignore his first comment and the way it weighs heavy on your chest, “you’ve really perfected the skill of being swift and discreet Haechan, I would have never guessed.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he huffs in a similar tone as he moves his hands to press into the lip of the counter at your sides, caging you against the sink as you press the cool rim of the glass against your bottom lip to keep it from quivering, “I think I’ve been dropping hints that I want you since the day I met you, sorry if I felt it was time to take the direct approach.”

“Oh trust me your hints were picked up every time,” you assure as your head bobs, an unimpressed sigh coming out when his face lights up slightly, “it’s just never going to happen, Haechan.”

“Why not?” He asks, dejected. His voice pitches up when he speaks this time, his hips shifting forward in a way that he doesn’t even seem aware of, his mind too focused on being rejected.

“You said I’m afraid I can’t keep up?” You ask rhetorically, placing your glass down next to his hand before you push you index finger into the dip of your chest, “baby boy, I don’t even think you can get started.”

“Is that a challenge?” He asks sharply, his eyebrows furrowing deeply as a scowl pulls over his usually softened features. His shoulders rise slightly as he speaks as well, and you hope the shock and lingering arousal that it puts in your belly doesn’t show on your face.

“Not a challenge,” you sigh, shifting your line of sight over his shoulder so you’re no longer forced to look at his intense features, “just a fact.”

You catch from your peripherals the way his tongue digs into the side of his cheek before his head tilts down in irritation. To say the action, and just him as a person, wasn’t attractive would be a huge lie. But you’ve been around him and the other younger guys he hangs out with enough to know how they act, and no matter how attractive he is, it’s easy to think that they’re all talk and no action.

“A fact has evidence, it has proof to back it up,” Haechan argues, his shoulders lifting and his temper clearly being tested as he rambles on, “you have no idea what I could do to you.”

You breathe in sharply at the way his voice drops, the skin of your chest heating up when he presses his hips against yours. You do feel like a hyprocrite slightly, from your comment about him not knowing how to get started, because as he leans over until his labored breathing hits your bottom lip, you feel lost under his body.

He takes the way you don’t push him away as a good sign, and the way a shiver runs across you under his stare as a better one. If you weren’t going slightly lightheaded from the tension between you, you probably would have slapped the smirk he wears off his face. Instead, all you can do as he brings his hands up to the sides of your neck is tense your shoulders and twist your toes anxiously into the floor beneath you.

The moment his lips touch yours, you let out an embarrassing whimper, a whimper that he happily eats up as he forces your mouth open with his tongue. You squirm under his hold, your body aching with anticipation as you hands fly up to grip his biceps. And you’re grateful for the grip you hold on one another, because the moment you touch him, he kisses you harder and leans you until your back curves against he sink.

He makes a kiss on the cheek feel so vulgar, his tongue dipping into the plush of the flesh, before he drags the flat of his tongue slowly across your jaw. And when he starts to suck patches of flesh into his mouth, starting from the point of your chin and down until he reaches the center of your collarbones, you feel one of his hands slip from your neck and start kneading at the swell of your chest.

You try not to gasp to loudly into the empty silence of the room, the sound of your labored breath combining with the gentle wet noises of his lips is enough noise for you to be itching with anxiety. You know that each boy that shares the living space that Haechan defiles you in has their own unique sleep schedule, and you can’t stand the idea of one of them being awake playing video games and hearing you falling apart under one of their best friends.

Haechan pinches at your nipple harshly through the thin fabric of your shirt, a flare of jealousy lighting in his chest for a moment when he thinks of you curled up in Mark’s bed without a bra. But he chooses not to voice this jealousy, and that only leaves you feeling confused when instead he just presses his lips to your’s with much more aggression, your teeth clacking together gently as you moan.

His hand moves down your stomach, too quick for your brain to fully register as you still try to catch up with his lips, and before you can even think to argue you can feel his fingers dipping under the elastic of your pajama shorts.

You realize with a twist in your belly, that you wouldn’t have argued even if you could have. Maybe you would have spit some biting marks to hide the way your chest beats rapidly, but it would be foolish to act like the way he touches and licks at you doesn’t have your thighs tensing together.

His chest presses against yours when his fingers press under the fabric of your underwear, a moan of his own rolling out from his chest when he feels the wetness that’s accumulated between your thighs.

“You can’t act like you don’t want me now,” he taunts between lingering kisses, smiling at the way you twitch and squeeze at his arms when he dips the tips of his fingers into you. But the real excitement shoots through him when the heel of his hand brushes against your clit, and your knees buckle beneath you.

“Looks like I was right,” he praises himself, forcebly shoving his middle and ring fingers into you in one go, laughing meanly against your lips before licking from the dip above your chin to the bottom of your septum when you squeak loudly, “you really can’t keep up.”

“Can to,” you try to defend, but your voice comes out much more weaker than you’d ever want from the way he almost immediately starts fucking you open on his fingers. But you fear he may be right when he starts to curl his digits inside you, and the pleasure that rips through you is too overwhelming and too fast.

“You making a mess of my hand, baby,” he coos as he shakes his head. His free hand tightens against the back of your neck as he twists your head, keeping your eyes forward as you try and avoid his gaze, “making me think you’re already ready to come.”

You let out quiet sobs at his choice of words, stinging tears springing to your eyes as he jerks you around with how fast his hand moves. He’s right, you think with a petulant frown taking over your features, as it feels like you’re only moments away from falling over the edge. It’s probably one of the fastest orgasms you can think of you having, and it’s more than just a bit embarrassing that it is going to come from the hands of the boy you doubted only moments before.

“You can cry all you want,” he encourages, lifting up to kiss softly at the underneath of your eye as his pushes his palm tighter against your clit. And if it wasn’t for the tingling feeling that touches every one of your nerves, you’d probably would have slapped the smile he wears off his face when he speaks again, “as long as you come around my fingers.”

It’s like his words were the switch, the only think keeping the dam closed, as when he says it and curls his fingers into the spot that has your eyes rolling, you’re twitching against him as your head falls back on your shoulders.

If it wasn’t for the way your nails dig into the flesh of his arm, you would have fallen back into the facet that’s twisted towards the back of your head when he lets go off your neck.

You were still suffering through the last biting shocks of your orgasms as he moved his hand to shove down your shorts and underwear, his fingers still thrusting in and out of you regardless of how your fluttering walls try to push him out.

Your hands slip up towards his shoulders as he sinks to the floor, your fingers twisting into his hair once he rests on his knees in front of you. You try to tug him back up to you, worry gnawing at your still tensing stomach. But once he has his eyes locked onto where his fingers disappear, trying to move him is like grasping at an immovable rock.

His free hand wraps around the flesh of your thigh, lifting your leg out of the fabric of your pants that had pooled around your ankles, before he lifts the limb to rest on his shoulder. And once he’s faced with the way you gush around his still moving fingers, he grins up at your anguished face, before he dips forward to lick quickly at your buzzing clit.

“Haechan, no,” you beg weakly, your body going against your words as your hips tilt to chase his mouth as he leans away, “I can’t.”

“So you admit it,” he starts, shifting to get more comfortable between your thighs, showing he had no intention of moving as he continues to finger you as he speaks, “you just can’t keep up with the disrespectful, younger guy?”

“You’re such a dick,” you start mouthing off, ready to rant and tugging harshly at his hair even with your muscles turning to jelly against your bones.

You try berating him with hollow threats, frowning deeply down at him in a way that tells him you’re oblivious of how cute you look. But you only get one huff and pout in, before he tires of hearing your dramatics, and he’s pushing forward to wrap his lips tightly around your clit.

His fingers speed up back to their brutal pace, his tongue lapping greedily at your bundle of nerves as he ignores you hiccuping whimpers. You do beg him quietly for mercy, but there’s also a growing thought in the back of your head about how much you love the feeling of him pushing you past your limit.

He groans at the taste of your come that coats your skin, the mess he felt on his hand going a lot farther past that and now coating the expanse of his eager tongue. And to add to the way your taste makes him dizzy, the sounds of you sobbing above him and the way your body twitches in his hold, has him pushing further into you to see how quickly he can have you falling apart again.

The feeling of his teeth scraping against your skin makes your leg weaken, and without the small amount of support, you sink down onto his wiggling face. For a moment you see through the blur in your eyes, and you worry about his ability to breathe, but when he grunts and nuzzles into your skin happily, you see the way he’d gladly suffocate between your legs.

“You can apologize now,” he commands between licks, dipping back in after he speaks but letting you know the way he feels when he arches an expectant brow.

“For what?” you spit out, grasping for words as you lose yourself against his mouth.

“For underestimating me,” he responds like it’s the most obvious thing, slowing down the way he moves against you until you’re shivering from the slacking pleasure, “you’ll apologize if you want to come again.”

“Haechan,” you whine out, hesitating to mentally debate whether or not you want to stoop so low. But when you start to miss the flick of his tongue and the push of his fingers, you figure it’s all worth it and you can throw your pride out the window just this once.

“Please, I'm sorry Haechan,” you start with a mumble, your chest burning and your words getting more desperate as you go, “I'm sorry I underestimated you, just please let me come again.”

The only response he voices is a small, pleased, ”hmm,” before he goes back to work against your skin. And you’re glad, as when he does, your still lingering begging words turn to mushed mumbles and you wouldn’t have been able to respond if he had chosen to continue the antics he created.

Your second orgasm has you gasping for air, your body folding over as your fingers twist painfully into his hair. You can feel your tears now streaming down your face, and as your abdomen spasms and you clench around his fingers again, he hums as if he’s enjoying his favorite treat in the world.

He doesn’t stop you when you start to sink into the floor, instead guiding your shaking body down as his fingers slip out of you. The crumbled fabric of your shorts dig uncomfortably into the muscle of your ass as you sit, but you try not to worry about the weird sensation as you lean against the kitchen counter and try to regulate your breathing.

“And what did we learn today?” Haechan immediately starts with a mocking tone, ignoring the glare you shoot at him, tapping the end of your nose with his still slick fingers before he shoves them into your mouth, “never underestimate Haechan again.”

You would love to curse him, call him names, and knock him down a peg. But with his fingers stretching your lips and his smile warming your heart, all you can do is grumble and cross your arms. And as he curls his free arm around your waist and cuddles into your side, you think maybe even with his vulgar mouth and horrible humor, he might not be that bad after all.

#Haechan smut #Nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #Kpop smut #Nct blurb #haechan blurb #haechan x reader #ask

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potatoes-are-awesome-blog · 1 year

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Ok, I just finished watching the second season of Young Royals and it's like 6 am where I live so I didn't get any sleep rip.

Major spoilers warning.

I feel disappointed, I really, really loved the first season (watched it 14 times and forced all my friends to watch it) and was sooooo looking forward for s2 and I didn't really liked it.

Loved the confirmation of Rosh as a sapphic woman bc OF COURSE and the relationship between Simon and his friends was something I absolutly adored and was happy to see more of.

And that's really about it.

I really liked season 1 because despite being kind of a cliche concept (la plebe y la realeza) it brought something really different and cute and real.

I loved when Simon told Willhem that he could take all the time in the world to figure out his feelings and his sexuality, but that he had to do it alone. It was the perfect response and the most healthy outcome of that fucked up situation and I was soooooo proud and happy they made that choice but I feel s2 does a big injustice to that level of emotional maturity and responsability Simon had because it kind of goes nowhere?

Super mad about the poor dude that Simon sort of dated, I really liked them together and I think it was such an unnecesary thing to have him just so Simom would go on to cheat on him with Willhem. I truly didn't undestand that desicion, like make Simon move on and be happy with a super nice and supportive boyfriend or just make them friends so he can feel supported and not alone. I truly don't understand the inclusion of the dude (I DON'T REMEMBER HIS NAME SORRY) just to make Simon and Willhem act like assholes.

*sigh* Willhem.

He was such an asshole this season.

Don't get me wrong, he was never my fave (the whole press denial and then his intention of just keep going like normal with Simon was major FUCKED UP) but I could understand where he was coming from and his struggles. But this season was a real miss for me.

Starting with the actitude just because Simon (VERY UNDERSTANDABLY) wanted some space to the CELLPHONE CHEKING to the FELICE KISS(????????????) was a lot and again, he left off in a really shitty note with Simon last season so I was kinda waiting for a reedeming moment that never really came and that just sits wrong with me, idk I really didn't like him this season.

Like, I was ready for the Bad Bitch Revenge Willhem era (because I understood that was happening from the promotional material). Him standing up to his mom, his peers, FUCKING AUGUST, and fighting for Simon but that neverp happened? Like yeah, he was a petty little fucker to August but all that backfired? And he was shitty to Simon?

Plus the whole herarchy arc was really weird, it never had relevance before and now it super important?

Idk, I felt this season was really different from the first one in all the bad ways it could be and that really disappointed me. Most of the time Simon and Willhem talk this season is in bad terms and there's not really a lot of joy in their interactions so it just doesn't feel right (for me) when they get back together. Besides, when he comes out about the sex tape to the press he doesn't talk to Simon about it? Like Simon had a REALLY shitty time the first time around and Willhem just going off like that without talking to him or a heads up feels really bad for me.

This are just some thoughts and they are probs going to change when I re-watch it with more neurons and a better sleep schedule but overall a really disappointing season for me 😭

#young royals #young royals season two #young royals s2 #young royals spoilers #young royals season 2 spoilers #spoilers #young royals season 2

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thetomorrowshow · 2 years

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closed

Main Story

a short little story for the empires superpowers au! a little note before the fic: bc of life stuff i probably won't be following a post schedule anymore, so the strictly-every-tuesday will no longer exist. posting will likely be random (i do prefer tuesdays though) and not every week.

cw: flashbacks, references to past abuse

this piece takes place about 3 months after the end of poisoned rats.

They usually leave doors open around the house these days, after discovering that being in a closed room can be quite the vicious trigger for Jimmy. Which is why Scott finds it strange that their bedroom door is closed.

Elle, he thinks absently, before pushing the door open.

Maybe he pushes it open a bit roughly. The door handle does knock against the wall, after all. So when Jimmy, lying on the bed reading, hears the door open, he rolls off the bed and drops to his knees, head bowed and hands hanging loosely in front of him.

And Scott feels sick, because he hates triggering his boyfriend.

“Jimmy,” he says, trying his best to keep his voice from shaking. He slowly lowers himself to the floor, places down his mug of tea beside him. “Jimmy, dear, can you hear me?”

Jimmy nods tightly, flexes his fingers, but doesn’t move. Scott closes his eyes, takes a calming breath. Jimmy’s not usually dangerous when he gets like this, but it’s nerve-wracking for different reasons. The idea that one day, Scott will trigger him and Jimmy will be completely thrown back, all his progress undone? Scott will never shake that fear, as irrational as it is.

For every two steps forward you take a step back, he reminds himself. It’s something his therapist had told him when he was younger, and something Jimmy hears frequently from the same therapist. This isn’t necessarily even a step back, just a minor bump in the road. This is by far not the worst result of a trigger.

“Can you breathe with me?” he asks, keeping his distance. When Jimmy doesn’t respond, he continues, “Take a deep breath, okay? In, two, three, four, out, two, three, four. Again.” He repeats the breathing exercise until Jimmy’s shoulders loosen, until he shifts to sit cross-legged instead of kneeling.

“Still want breathing counts, or need something else?” he murmurs, and Jimmy looks up with red-rimmed, watery eyes.

“Can—um, can you hold my hand?” he croaks, and Scott slowly slides across the room and holds out his hand for Jimmy to take. Jimmy does, hand barely gripping Scott’s fingers. Scott keeps his breathing slow and relaxed, hoping that Jimmy will continue to follow. He does, and eventually Jimmy scoots up into his lap and leans his head against Scott’s chest. There they sit, Scott leaning up against the bed, Jimmy leaning up against him.

“‘M tired,” Jimmy slurs, and Scott chuckles lightly.

“I can imagine, honey. Did you have a flashback?”

Jimmy nods sleepily against him. “Yeah. Not too bad. Jus’ some people grabbing me from my cell.”

Scott’s heart aches at the words, just like it always does when Jimmy brings up his captivity. He can’t imagine living that long in a tiny cell, the only faces to see vicious guards and a brainwashing captor. He’s not sure how Jimmy survived.

He’s insanely glad that he did.

“Love you,” Jimmy mumbles, reaching up with a clumsy hand to pat Scott’s cheek. Scott grins despite the sober mood, the panic in his chest finally starting to dissipate. Jimmy’s okay.

“Would you like to sleep now and talk later, or talk first?”

In moments after flashbacks, Jimmy has trouble making choices for himself out of nothing. They’ve arranged that Scott will give options and Jimmy has to choose out of them—still granting him autonomy, but making it just that little bit easier for him. Scott tries to limit it to two, any more can be overwhelming.

“Hm. Can we maybe talk a little, then sleep?”

“Of course.” Scott stretches a bit, helps Jimmy stand and sit on the bed. It sinks down a little under their combined weight, one of the blankets slipping. Scott pays it no mind but to shove it back toward the middle of the bed.

Jimmy kicks at the carpet a bit, smiles at Scott. Scott smiles back, but nudges him with his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about the flashback, or do you want to talk about what triggered it?”

The smile fades quickly. “The trigger, I guess.” He looks unsure, so Scott smiles encouragingly. “Right. I know we usually leave the doors open, but sometimes I . . . I miss it, I guess. The—the isolation. The cell was—nobody really hurt me in there. It was like a reprieve. So I just felt really exposed today and needed to be closed off.”

Scott chews on that for a minute. “I think I understand. You needed to know that you were in a place where you wouldn't be hurt.”

Jimmy nods. “Something like that. And then—it’s not your fault, not at all, but when you opened the door it was like they were here to drag me out of my safe place . . . like the reprieve was over. . . .”

Scott hugs Jimmy a little closer when he shudders, pressing a kiss into his hair. Jimmy hums, nuzzles into his chest. “I’m okay now,” he says quietly. “Tired. It’s been a rough day.”

“I’m sorry.”

“‘S not your fault.”

“I’m still sorry.”

Jimmy looks like he wants to argue it, but instead he just closes his eyes and leans more of his weight against Scott. “What time is it?” he asks.

“Time for bed,” Scott tells him, easing him down onto the bed and standing, before pulling a blanket over him. “I’ll make dinner while you nap, okay? Don’t worry about a thing.”

“Mkay. Love you.”

Scott can’t help but smile as he dims the lights, picks up his mug from the doorway. “I love you, too. Door closed or open?”

“Closed.”

#empires superpowers au #esh au #empires smp #flower husbands #esmp #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #mas writes #short ik it's going in the extras fic on ao3 #under a cut more for ease of scrolling than content warnings #this one is much softer than the last one #ur honor. they love each other.#and i love them #um that's all #lmk what you think!#love you guys

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whump-town · 1 year

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Brother in Arms

I'm just cleaning out bad wips so I don't have to keep looking at them, pls enjoy this trash,

hotch getting shot in brother in arms bc i fully believe that should have been what happened

word count, 1 k

Hotch could find danger like a blood-hound. If there was going to be a shoot-out, a talk-down, a rush-in, any sort of anything, Hotch would be there. The best way to get there was to be Hotch’s hip-man. Emily didn’t mind him so much once she realized Hotch’s charm was in looking scary, Hotch himself is not so tough. Once Emily had that, she didn’t mind him so much. He wasn’t a bad partner. More considerate than Morgan – who preferred to sleep in as few clothes as possible and snored. She’d wake up and Hotch would have a pot of coffee brewing, him long gone and the shower all to her. Every time Emily had ever roomed with Morgan she’d spent the morning feeling strangely childish, bickering back and forth with him as they both intentionally tried to annoy the other. Hotch was an angel.

But once she stopped minding him so much, he became harder to hate.

She still hates him. She hates him right now, watching the back of his head knowing that he’s taking deep breaths and preparing himself for what comes next. She hates him and she hates this stupid idea. “For the record,” Emily whispers to him as she climbs out, leaning close to the headrest, “I think this is a stupid idea.” Hotch says nothing but she knows he heard her. She glances back at him once, forcing her eyes on the gravel under her feet as she leaves him to fake a phone call by the side of the car. Her heart pounds as she walks away. Hotch has to be alone.

But he won’t really be alone. They’ll be four cars down. He just has to make it four cars.

Emily closed her eyes, and crouched down behind a patrol car, her hand on Derek’s leg waiting for him to call time. She’s counting the seconds in her head.

Twenty-three.

Nearly there. It’s just thirty seconds.

Twenty-six.

Morgan steps forward and Emily opens her eyes, ready to move.

Guns fire. Not their guns.

Hotch is still standing when she sees him, he leaves a bloody handprint on the hand of the van beside him as he staggers. Grunting as he falls into the van, his legs giving out beneath him, he can feel himself slipping. His left arm reaches out underneath him, trying to soften his landing, but it gives out beneath him and he lands with a crack on his back. None of it hurts. When it hurts again, Hotch knows it’s going to kill him. He can’t hear a thing but he looks to the left and finds Emily – a blurry, primarily dark figure running quickly at him. He knows her by the way she screams at him as she gets closer.

“Idiot!” Emily shouts at him, falling down beside him. Her hands go to his leg, she could see the blood before she got there. Too much, too quick. “Dammit!”

Pain comes back sharp and center as Emily bends over his left leg. Hotch clamps his mouth shut, gritting his teeth, and trembling as Emily tries to find where she needs to put pressure. The pain burns, bones in his leg shift, the skin feels like it’s burning. And then Emily finds the bullet’s entrance, when she pushes down, uses her weight against the artery dumping his blood quickly out onto the parking lot’s asphalt, Hotch feels nothing. His mouth opens and he can feel himself scream, straining against pain so intense his brain can not function.

Emily looks up and watches as his eyes roll up into his head. His ashy white face loses it’s expression as he sags back to the ground. “Hotch?” He doesn’t answer. “Hotch!” The air is just cold enough to make holding his leg burn her hands, the hot blood gushing over her fingers stings, and won’t stop no matter how hard she presses. “Fuck, fuck,” she lets go, has to.

She needs a tourniquet, his belt. Her fingers slide over the leather, too wet to grip. Emily doesn’t hear the approach of the EMS team. Hotch had kept them close, and told them to circle the other street twice before coming back here. She’d forgotten about that.

“Hand me the tourniquet kit.”

Emily stands, moving away, so that the man with the bright orange tourniquet in his hands can get where he needs to. She pushes her bangs away from her face with the back of her hands but still ends up smearing blood into her hair and onto her face. Emily staggers back another step, eyes snapping down to Hotch. He’s looking at the van, head turned away. As the tourniquet is tightened Hotch’s eyes open, he turns his neck away, straining with his mouth open but no sounds leave his mouth.

“Hotch?”

Hotch shivers, body relaxing back into twitches as he blinks owlish and slow. His eyes are glassy and unfocused, aimed at the van but seeing nothing.

Emily’s legs are shaking as she tries to squat down, her hand leaves a print on the sidewalk as she sits, and crosses her legs underneath her. She’s close to him, as close as she dares. “I told you this was a stupid fucking idea,” she says. Her nerves are still raw, and chaos is still descending down, but Emily can’t bring herself to do more than be close. Offer proximity where she knows someone is supposed to hold his hand and encourage him. Keep him here. The need to touch him isn’t something she even recognizes, so she touches his arm, pinching the fabric of his shirt in her hand. “Next time, listen to me.”

Hotch’s lips are pale, bloodless. He mouths her name, eyes trying to close as he takes longer, slower blinks.

“Hotch,” Emily pokes his arm. “Hey, stay awake.”

Hotch rocks his head away from her, watching an EMT roll his sleeve up and try to get an IV in him. “I dropped my gun,” he whispers, eyes closing. “Dropped it… I don't know… I don't know where it is.” His veins are too deep, and he’s lost too much blood but Hotch doesn't feel the needle. It withdrawals, hovers, and sinks back in. “The…” Hotch turns his head back, blinking up at the sky. “The… gun. Can’t leave weapons at the scene, have to… have to find my gun.”

“It’s okay,” Emily says, but she doesn’t see his gun. Someone will get it, it’s not important. All Emily sees is the red streak of blood across the van, the spray of his artery as the bullet ripped through it. Her throat feels suddenly tight, a swollen hole in her throat sitting snug and tight. “It’s fine, Hotch. It’s okay.”

Things start moving, IV is sunk and hanging, and the stretcher is lowered down. Emily grabs Hotch, fearful instinct as men she doesn’t recognize start grabbing at Hotch. She doesn’t like the oxygen mask, the thick layer of plastic separating him even further. Emily stays right where she is, not willing to be moved by a man much bigger than her trying to step up to Hotch’s side. She doesn’t want to but she’s going to lift Hotch on the stretcher with them. She’s not just going to leave him with them. They don’t know these people.

Emily knows she’s not doing most of the lifting, Hotch feels too light – physically. Emotionally, she can’t bare the weight.

He grabs her hand.

Emily isn’t expecting it. They run the stretch, on quicker, stronger legs than Emily has right now. She loses them for a moment, caught in the mass of people watching in shock and horror at the scene before them. Derek tries to stop her, talking to her but she can’t hear him talking, she’s just thinking about the stretcher. How much further Hotch is being dragged away.

By the time she finds the stretcher again, they’ve paused, hitting levers to raise the stretcher up into the ambulance. Hotch grabs her hand, his cold fingers tight around her wrist. She waits until his grip is loose – monitors screeching and an anxious EMT squeezing breaths – to pull her hand back away.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss

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kunikuzxshi · 2 years

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Ayato because a lot of people like him apparently. I get the appeal tbh

I got him literally at the most 30 minutes after his release at I think like 23 or 24 pity. I meant to pull on Venti’s banner bc I had a guaranteed 5 star. I still got him though, might not get childe now :( I had to use the pulls I saved for childe on venti instead

Random ass headcanons because I wanna get into writing again while I have energy

Sfw <3

Feel like he has his own, less expensive version of his jacket for you. It doesn’t have sleeves nearly as long as his though, I’m sorry

110% has a safe and when you look in it, it’s a piece of paper that explains how he pulls boba from behind his sleeve

Chess with him like in that one scene with him and Thoma, except he lets you beat him

^ he will crush you in chess if you start bragging a little too much about beating him

Kinda mean. Probably comes up behind you and nudges you just a little too hard to kinda knock you forward

The food he fucks up is still edible but he won’t eat it, therefore I think he’s picky. Just made something savory instead of sweet I think in his voiceline, or maybe it was the other way around

Leaves his sword straight up just sitting on your bed, probably because he forgot to grab it before he got up

On that note, it’s probably under his pillow or the bed every night bc yknow, easy access if something happens

He snores fucking louder than a jet engine, I’m sorry sweetie

Thoma’s somehow always in your room more than you. Probably to clean up the shit ayato takes in there and then leaves there

Has definitely taken some of his work into your room and finished it in bed, and then just forgot it the second he needed it

^ hence why Thoma’s practically always in there, even if he’s not cleaning

Sometimes he has Thoma pick up stuff for you when he’s busy and claims that he did everything to get it for you

He’d probably let you brush his hair while he’s working either really late or really early

Yknow how when you’re trying to do something without making much sound and you go a lot slower? My guy spends 30 minutes trying to get out of bed just to not wake you up

Thoma ends up knocking on the door and waking you up anyway while he’s halfway out of the covers

There is ONE clean spot on his desk and that’s where he lets you sit when he’s busy

Kinda likes when you just sit there with him

Maybe get a book and read a little bit of it to him. He’s paying attention… as much as he can at least

Still likes just hearing your voice. You could be gushing over some random cat you saw earlier and he would not know what you’re saying but still takes comfort in it

Probably puts his hand on you randomly. One day it might be on your shoulder, the next it could be on your thigh. Don’t point out the last one though, he does it subconsciously and will turn the same color as Thoma’s vision

Has fallen asleep during his lunch breaks because you let him rest his head on your shoulder

If you’re in bed when he’s not busy, depending on where you’re facing, he might kinda pounce on you

If you’re napping… he still would. If it’s after noon and you’re sleeping at all, it’s fair game for him to wake you up

Has memorized your favorite boba (if you like it)

Most likely had a drawer in his desk that’s solely just snacks for both you and him. And Ayaka if she manages to find them

Thoma gets none bc he can make his own food

He had someone clear out a room in the estate for you and now it’s your own little area. Not like you don’t have your bedroom-

If you draw, he insists you try and draw him and Ayaka at least once. Thoma too if you want to, but he thinks it’d be cute to have a family picture drawn by you

Jokes about you dueling with him and Ayaka a lot

Forehead kisses when he’s stressed!!! And not for him, for you, cause nothing calms him down quite like seeing you smile… except boba, but that’s besides the point

Probably squishes your cheeks when you stare at him for a little too long

Cooks with you but gets the seasoning mixed up. He sucks at measuring things too

Likes when you go with him to see another commissioner, though you have to wait outside. He just likes the walk with you tbh and he doesn’t really have much free time so that’s the closest thing he can get usually

You cannot tell me he doesn’t wear makeup of some kind, whether it’s eyeliner or… idk I suck with makeup. Anyway, he’d let you try your hand at doing his makeup, or he’d do some of yours, whatever you want <3

You can do the math. Don’t ask why I have so many pages, I wanted razor and didn’t get him until 40 pity and venti at 160

#kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #ayato x you #ayato fluff #genshin headcanons #gn reader #genshin ayato

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