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#and i know that they are important in some way

mingyus-blackcard · 2 days

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ੈ✩ i did not need to know that (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : charles leclerc x norris! fem reader

summary : With all the extra information being spilled, noriss’s sister spills something way important !

tw : a lot of sexual innuendos , cursing, chaotic af

fc: megan roche *she is so pretty-*

a/n : thank you so much to @xshazxx for suggesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by norissfr, lordperceval, lilihye, albono, maximilian and 76 others

norizzfr y’all my brother was not paying attention to Zak 🫷🏻

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mclaren Lando Noriss, kindly report to the office 🙌🏻

norissfr such a lovely sister 😒

norizzfr any day my loving brother 🧡

oscarpastry does the official McLaren account follow your private !?

norizzfr cuz the admin loves me 💪🏻

mclaren 🙌🏻🧡

norissfr admin… stay away from her

mclaren 🙌🏻🧡

jrchilli he never listened to me as well ☹️

norissfr oh shut up you no fish !

lordperceval damn, is it only my eyes but you look ugly

norizzfr if you care for you balls, you better keep that thing of yours shut

fernandoalonso yes Charles, don’t be rude

norizzfr 🤍🩵

lordperceval but i speak genuine facts 🫶🏻

norissfr dw charles, she can’t see that’s why she wears those huge ass balls on her face

norizzfr at least i am getting some balls -

norissfr i would rather have some 🐱 instead of 🐔

norizzfr EW BROTHER

albono i did not need to see that -

maximilian stop acting as if he is not sucking your balls everyday !

lordperceval can everyone stop exposing the dirty little secrets ?

hamsandwich charles, do you want me to start ?

mercedesgeorge lewis, remember the gold old times of us two in a tub?

carmenvroom sleep in the tub tonight then ! ❤️

norizzfr WHY THE HELL IS EVERYONE’S SEX LIFE BEING TALKED ABOUT IN MY COMMENTS !?

lilyhye i feel bad for you luv 🫶🏻

norizzfr thank you bubs 😤

liked by norissfr, lordperceval, lilihye, albono, maximilian and 56 others

norizzfr my personal papprazzi @ norissfr

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norizzfr i am an elder brother, ofc i was blackmailed to click these 😌

norissfr i am a younger sister, ofc i will expose all your broken vases to mum 🤩

fernandoalonso My child, you should not be posting these on the internet with every other person seeing !

maximilian its her private account 😐

mercedesgeorge you commenting from your main makes me nervous as well

fernandoalonso i cant handle this one, you expect me to have another !?

lilihye no lube, no protection, all night , all day, from the kitchen to the bathroom -

albono babe, why are you telling are sex life again ?

lilihye WHAT !?

carmenvroom WHt!? alex it was a joke

norizzfr i definitly did not need to know my best freinds sex life but WHY THE HELL ARE YOU NOT USING PROTECTION

albono SHE ASKED FOR IT

hamsandwich please be safe kids 🙏

jrchilli where did you pop out of ?

hamsandwich my mom

lilihye ALEX SHUT UP

albono YOU ONLY TOLD ME STOP BEING QUITE “ LET ME HEAR YOU ALEX !”

norizzfr my comments always become someones sex life discussion

lordperceval wanna tell them about ours ?

norissfr EXCUSE ME WHAT !? Y/N !?

norizzfr i hate him more than toto could hate ferrari

mercedesgeorge true that 💪🏻

maximilian you look pretty y/n!

norissfr the only normal comment 😩 thank you so much max 🫶🏻

liked by lilyhye, albono, norissfr, lord perceval and 64 others

norizzfr so yes, i do golf 💪🏻⛳️

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norissfr i was third wheeling the whole day !

albono us brother us 🙌🏻

norizzfr yall just jealous that lily loves me

lilihye I LOVE YOU 🫶🏻❤️

norizzfr I LOVE YOU TOO 🫶🏻❤️

maximilian suprised that hey found a stick shorter than lando 🧐

norissfr watch out for your next crash 😗

oscarpastry zak would not orefer that ☺️

mclaren Lando noriss in my office please - Zak

norissfr fuck, i forgot they follow her private, ADMIN UNFOLLOW HER

mclaren 🫶🏻🧡

lordperceval the first slide is making me see things 🙂‍↕️

norizzfr shut up before you see your own ass

lordperceval you have seen it though -

mercedesgeorge i think i am missing something -

jrchilli we missed a whole chapter -

hamsandwich kids these days 😌

norizzfr Sir Hamilton, you talk as if you dont have girls in your hotel room 🫶🏻

liked by lordperceval, norissfr, maximilian, lilyhye and 82 others

norizzfr in my polaroid era 📷

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albono I-

mercedesgeorge did she mean to -

norissfr Y/N NORISS WHAT THE HELL !?

norizzfr why are you screaming for no reason ?

lilihye hun, who clicked the first two pictures ?

norizzfr my friend …

lilihye the friend is visible in the third slide 🙂

norizzfr fuck…

norizzfr CHARLES BABE I AM SORRY

lilihye HIS FACE WAS NOT VISIBLE !

albono she just exposed the guy herself 🪽

norizzfr oh. so i just exposed it myself ….

norissfr Yes ma'am , CARE TO EXPLAIN !? I THOUGH IT WAS A GUY AND WAS OK WITH YOU DATING ! BUT WITH FUCKING CHARLES !? CHSRLES LECLERC?

lordperceval they could not see my face bubs ❤️

norizzfr well atleast i would now not have to pretend to hate you 🫶🏻

lordperceval the prettiest love ❤️

norissfr can you both not ?

hamsandwich ew.

maximillian ew.

mercedesgeorge ew.

albono they were better hating each other

lordoerceval I LOVE YOU Y/N

norizzfr I LOVE ME TOO CHARLES

lordoerceval HEY! we agreed to stop hating

norizzfr I LOVE YOU TOO CHARLES 💌

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neil-gaiman · 2 days

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Mr. Gaiman,

I saw some pictures on here of your library. In the most genuine way possible: why do you have so many books? My sister keeps her books because she wants to eventually reread them (or eventually read them the first time). A friend keeps hers because they are mementos of who she was when she read them. I know some people who collect them like works of art but for their literary beauty. I keep mine for a few years; if I have reread them, I keep them forever. How do you decide whether to keep a book?

Thanks for sharing yourself on here. Your thoughts, delivered with such economy of words, are a rare pleasure to read.

I don't know what I'm going to want to reread one day. I don't know when a book I read 50 years ago will suddenly become important now.

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azsazz · 3 days

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Pirouettes & Promises

Mafia!Azriel x Ballerina!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Can u do a Mafia az and ballerina reader?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1029

Notes: Not the best, but I tried.

_________________________________________

There’s nothing that Azriel likes about this.

Well, that’s a lie. He likes you, up on stage in your perfectly blush pink outfit. He likes the likes the way the lighting washes over you, how your eyes light up when you nail a move that you’ve been practicing both in the studio or in the middle of his living room. He had all the furniture moved for you specifically, even offered to build you your own studio somewhere within the high rise, because there is no one more important than you.

He's still a little irked that you shut that idea down, preferring to take the trek to the other side of town to practice in the dingy little studio that has zero security for you. He knows this, of course, because your shiny new vehicle is fitted with a tracker, and because of the very details reports from his security detail. He bets you don’t know about the robbery that happened at the bodega on the corner of the block. The kid was fifteen and only trying to steal a bag of chips, but Azriel doesn’t like when any crime is too close to you.

That’s about everything about this situation he does like.

From his vantage point in one of the expensive boxes that he had no trouble putting on his card, he can see the entire audience. The way that they sit, silent in their seats, because your dance has completely hypnotized everyone in the theater. Some are leaned forward in their seats as they watch, utterly enraptured by you.

Azriel doesn’t like the way that everyone’s eyes are on you, watching the ways that you move and bend. You’re always so graceful, even when he’s pinning you to the mattress and fucking you through your fourth orgasm with tears in your eyes and bruises on your neck.

He wants to send his men in and reign terror on the crowd.

They’re scattered all over the place like a bunch of ants. There’s at the very least one guard by each door. Two outside his own private box, and his most trusted security detail are with him, flanking him on either side, ready to throw themselves in front of him should they need.

You don’t know that there’s one waiting outside of your dressing room, making sure no one slips inside and tampers with anything in your room while you perform. You don’t know that there are men waiting on either side of the stage, or in the crowd. Azriel spared no one from his employment on tonight.

He almost invited Rhysand, one of his most trusted colleagues, but thought better of it. They’ve been companions since their college days, but it’s best for them not to be out in the open together. Rhysand tells him that he’s too paranoid, but Azriel doesn’t care, because you are the most important thing in the world to him, and he will do anything to keep you safe.

Your final move never fails to take his breath away. Azriel’s seen it before, many many times, but with the addition of your costume and makeup, the sultry music and the sensual lighting, you are a dream. He can’t take his eyes off you.

You fucking nailed it.

There’s a beat of silence while the crowd stare in awe, before the theater erupts in thunderous cheers. You hold the pose for a moment longer before relaxing out of it, a beaming smile on your face as the excitement washes over you. Your chest heaves with the effort and your eyes rove the audience, drawn immediately to Azriel, where he’s standing on his feet just like the rest of them, clapping for you. He might not be grinning down at you, but he may as well be with the upturned corner of his mouth, as much of a smile as he’s willing to show in any public situation.

You know that in the bedroom later, he will be all smiles and compliments. Your stomach flips in anticipation, and you refrain from blowing a kiss in his direction because it will no doubt draw eyes toward your lover.

His smile falls when people begin tossing things on stage. They’re flowers, roses in a bloodred color that look like spilled blood on the floor. Your smile falters when he’s ushered from his suite and force yourself to focus on the rest of the attendees, smiling in gratitude and taking a bow.

You snag a rose from the floor on your way off the stage. Your fellow dancers and coaches alike are ready with hugs and congratulations on your dance, and you take a few moments to revel in their kind words. Azriel having been ushered from the room is not uncommon, but you were hoping he would at least stay until you exited the stage.

You get it, you really do, that he’s an important man with many enemies, but there’s a sting in your chest that he left so quickly. You want to embrace him, fall into his warmth and revel in the feeling of your perfect performance. You want his hands around your waist, holding you as tightly as possible, whispering words into your ear that make your pussy clench.

With a sigh, you shove your way into your dressing room, only to squeak with surprise when you spot Azriel, sitting on the couch, waiting for you.

He looks like sin, arms splayed wide, resting across the back of the couch. He looks as handsome as ever with his finely black, pressed shirt unbuttoned and showing off the dark curls of tattoos that ink his skin. Your mouth runs dry, even more so when he smirks at you.

“You did wonderful, sweetheart.”

You fling yourself into his arms.

Azriel catches you, because he always will, and cradles you to his chest, peppering kisses to your cheeks with a whispered, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” you murmur back, looking up at him like the lovesick girl you are. He’s looking down at you in much the same way, and your heart beats hard in your chest when Azriel dips his head to capture your lips in a sweet, sensual kiss.

#mafia!azriel #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel au #azriel shadowsinger

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woso-dreamzzz · 18 hours

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Practice

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You need to practice

On the weekend, when you don't have games and you've finished all your homework, you have a kick about in the garden.

Or, rather, Momma and Morsa had a kick around and you save their shots.

Momma's better at shooting than Morsa but Morsa does better headers so it all evens out you suppose.

Either way, you get practice and they get exercise.

It's a win-win.

You're doing well with your academy training but not well enough. Since the time you rejected Germany's offer to have you play for their youth teams, no one else had called you up.

Not Denmark.

Not Sweden.

Some of your peers at Academy training had wormed their ways onto the youth teams, even for just one call up.

But you hadn't.

You don't know what you're doing wrong. You don't know why you're not good enough.

What you do know is that you want to be on those teams. Those teams are stepping stones to get to the senior team and the senior team is the road to joining the big clubs.

The European giants that you so desperately want to play for.

Wolfsburg is your destination, in big blinding lights in your head.

You want to play for Wolfsburg. You want to dominate the German League with them and, hopefully, the Champion's League as well.

But Wolfsburg won't look twice at you if you aren't on Sweden or Denmark's senior team.

Hence why you're practicing now, saving shot after shot after shot in your fancy new gloves, standing in the new goal set up in your garden after a drunk Morsa stumbled into your old one and broke it.

Another shot streaks past your outstretched hands and you kick your goalpost angrily, rolling the ball from out of your net and back to Momma.

"You're not defending properly!" You tell Morsa, arms crossed over your chest," You keep letting her win!"

Morsa laughs, like she can't see how important this is to you. "We're just playing around, princesse."

"We're not! I'm practicing!"

"Take it easy. It's not the be all end all."

"It is!"

You stamp your foot and Morsa laughs again, fondly ruffling your hair and you want to scream.

"You're not at training, princesse. It isn't that serious."

"It is!"

"It isn't."

"Magda," Momma says warningly," Leave her alone."

"Pernille!"

Momma grabs the ball and starts dribbling.

Morsa still isn't taking it that seriously, making a few attempts at getting the ball again but ultimately leaving Momma enough room to take another shot.

You catch it this time, falling to the ground to hold it against your body like Zećira has always taught you.

You stay on the ground for a while, drawing big deep breaths into your lungs.

Pernille sits in front of you, nudging you gently with her foot. "What's going on, huh? What's got you all high strung?"

You huff and mumble," I don't want to talk about it."

"You're not usually this short with us," Pernille says," Talk to me. What's going on?"

"It's stupid."

"If it's upsetting you then I don't think it is."

"Everyone else has been called up for the youth teams," You let the rest of your words go unspoken.

"You'll get there," Magda says, still standing nearby," It'll happen eventually."

"I don't want it eventually! I want it now! Everyone else has been called up! Everyone else is getting game time with the youth teams!"

"People develop at different times," Pernille's trying to soothe you, to talk you off the ledge," It's perfectly okay to not be going to camps the same time as everyone else."

"I should have accepted Germany's offer when I had the chance!" You say and that's when Magda and Pernille know you're being serious about this.

"Just because everyone else is going doesn't mean that you're a worse player," Pernille says to you," You shouldn't measure yourself against them."

You sit up. "Whatever." You grab the ball, angrily booting it all the way to the other end of the garden. "I told you it was stupid."

"Princesse-"

You move to go back inside.

"Come here," Magda says.

You ignore her.

"Don't ignore me! Come here!"

She's using her captain voice, the one she used to use when she played for Sweden. You know better than to ignore her now.

You stand in front of her, looking up.

"You worth is not reliant on whether or not you get into the youth teams."

You scoff. "Maybe not to you."

"Princesse-"

"But don't lie and say big clubs don't start picking out future players from the moment they lay eyes on them. No one watches random youth team matches at club level, not really. But they do watch it at international level. I know that. You know that."

"I know that," Magda echoes," But you have all the time in the world."

"Do I?" You say," Do I really?"

"You're fourteen. You have so much time."

You look away. "No, I don't."

You're growing up now, shooting up like a weed but Pernille's still taller than you, still tall enough to rest her chin on the top of your head and hug you from behind.

"Tell me what you need, princesse. What do you want out of this?"

"I want to be the best. I want you to help me be the best."

"Okay," Pernille says," We'll help you be the best."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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aajjks · 2 days

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TEACH ME (m)

synopsis. Teach me.. that’s what he says everytime he’s got his fingers deep inside you.

trope: age gap [10 years] yandere, forbidden relationship and cheating.

warnings. f-ngering, expl-cit themes, pr-fanity, he’s got a filthy mouth, f-rbidden r-lationship [teach-r x st-dent], y-ndere jk, p-sessive beh-viour, j-alousy, ch-ating, m-oning strict 18+ THEMES. MDNÏ.

note. PHEWWWWWW 🫠🫡🥵… YALL….. this is for all the horny girls on my blog. ONLY FOR YOU!! I think this is not gonna be a series but just a one shot and I hope to get it out soon but I wanted to put out a teaser and please talk to him and I just know you’re gonna love him because I know you guys have some fucked up fantasies. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS. I LOVE READING YOUR THOUGHTS AND YOUR ASKS also YALL the colored gradient text looks so pretty 🥹🥹🥹

note 2.0. This is strictly for 18+ so please do not interact if you’re underage. [TEASER]

If you wanna be tagged, please reply under this post x

“Hahaha what??”

Jungkook walks to your figure, you’re standing behind your desk, your back leaning against the blackboard, he knows you’ve said something really important right now but…

How the fuck is he supposed to take you seriously when your tits are practically popping out of your right dress shirt? Or the pencil skirt that is clinging onto your ass like second skin?

Goodness you’re so fucking hot, his cock is practically pulsing inside his underwear.

“Ms yn… what?” He manages to say, now towering over your smaller figure, you glare at him, swear tickling down your forehead.

“It’s Mrs Jeong for you!”

“Ms yn…. No.” Jungkook rolls his eyes as he closes the distance between you two, there’s no one in this empty university hallway, your door is closed,

Jungkooks eyes are set on you like a predator and the way your breathing is irregular suddenly, makes him feel superior to you despite your age difference of 10 years.

“Sorry that’s almost sounds like you said Mrs Jeon…. Haha… so similar won’t you agree?” His chest is now touching yours, his eyes contain a carnal hunger for you.

“I’m sorry but that can’t happen, yn.” He tsks, feigning disappointment, like he’s sympathizing with you, but you know better.

Jungkook knows that you know him better than anyone.

You know him so deeply and so intimately.

Jungkook forces his knee between your legs, spreading them, you gasp, he smirks.

“How dare you try to abandon me huh? I don’t give a fuck- NO JUNGKOOK YOU DONT UNDERSTAND I-I CANT COMPROMISE- shhh.” He presses his finger on your tinted lips.

He guides his hand down your panties, playing with the hem of it, “n-no jungkook please don’t-“” jungkook doesn’t stop, “listen yn- or Mrs Jeong.” He grits his teeth while spitting your last name out,

“I don’t give a FUCK ABOUT YOUR PATHETIC HUSBAND! OR YOUR SHAM OF A MARRIAGE!” He seethes,

“How pathetic you are huh?” he bites his tongue before speaking. “You sleep on that very bed with your stupid husband where I’ve made you cum so many fuckin times huh?” He tugs your panties down roughly.

You need a reminder of who you belong to, and he will gladly do it right here in this classroom.

“J-JUNGKOOK What are you doing?” You stutter, he rolls his eyes.

You know damn well what he’s doing. “Oh ms yn. You should know damn well and what I’m doing. Because your body knows it.” He smiles, almost cruelly at you.

He starts to tease your wet pooling heat, his fingers skilled as he starts to move them around your clit.

“nghh nooo..” you can’t even hold your moans at this point. He gets your sexual frustration. Your pathetic excuse of husband can never please you.

Your brain & your heart, and especially your pussy are currently fighting with each other right now disagreeing with what you really want and what you should do.

arguing with you between what’s wrong and what’s right.

“Oh come on ms yn- you’re soaking wet for me..” he plunges his fingers inside your inviting cunt.

“Oh yes moan for me…” he groans, whispering in your ear.

Your eyes are at the verge of rolling back he fucks you with his calloused fingers. “Divorce the bastard and I’ll let you cum.”

He pumps them in and out of you- teasing you.

Jungkook licks the side of your neck, grunting in your ear.

“If you won’t divorce him I’ll murder him and then fuck you right infront of his rotting corpse.”

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 2 days

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DON'T TOUCH WHAT IS MINE. ( HOTD x Reader )

author note: I wanted to do HOTD x Greek Myths cause it's fun. If I get enough like or requests I'l do a HOTD x Greek Myths book on wattpad. pairing: Jealous! Aemond Targaryen x Noble Wife! Reader prompt: Aemond contemplates murder. word count: 1, 000+ words

You were supposed to marry Aegon, a way to secure allies in the North for when Aegon took the Iron Throne. But, when his Mother planned on marrying him to Helaena. Aemond swiftly made his move, knowing that the loss of an ally would upset his Mother. It was supposed to be only for duty. You were supposed to be his duty to his Mother and family. But, of course the Gods were cruel and he fell for you. Hard and fast. He practically fell flat on his face for you, like someone had punched him in the groin with a club named ‘love’.

You were just so perfect. You were a proper Lady in the Court, weaving your way through politics with a cunning grace. You smiled and happily listened to Helaena as she rambled on about whatever popped in her mind, never judging her. You played with Helaena and Aegon’s children, always so patient with the toddler’s. You were cordial, yet stern, with Aegon⎯keeping him in line for the sake of his family when you could. You understood the want for revenge after the loss of his eye. You were just so perfect and kind. He hated how much he fell in love with you.

Watching you chat with some Lord from the Reach, Aemond grits his teeth, shifting around in place. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about you speaking to that Lord, but he would not tell you nor drag you away. He knew that you had some ambition or plan behind speaking to the Lord, one he did not know yet but knew that you would tell him soon enough. You were smart like that.

Looking you over for any sign for him to interfere, he inspects your appearance with a subtle look of love. Your gown was more simple in feature, but a similar green to his Mother’s. Your hair is decorated with pearl and gold dragon hair clips. Your fingers decorated in rings, the sapphire one shining a particular bright. A smug smirk spreads on his lips at the sight of the ring.

“Yes, my lord husband, Prince Aemond is everything that I could ask for.” You nod, “I am content, actually I am more than content Lord Wormwood.”

“I am happy to hear that, your grace. But, I am just suggesting that…should you ever find yourself in need of some company whilst visiting the Reach⎯” Lord Wormwood suggests, making his blood boiling.

“No, now I must return to my husband’s side.” You cut him off, eyes shifting away.

“Just a moment longer⎯” Lord Wormwood tries again, attempting to keep the conversation going.

Watching you straighten up your back and fiddle with your wedding ring, he instantly catches the subtle signal from you. You needed him. Holding his head up a little higher, Aemond saunters over to you, attempting to hide his slightly faster walking pace than usual. Reaching your side in an instant, he gently places his hand on your hip, tucking you into his side.

“Aemond.” You whispers, a subtle glimmer of appreciation in your eyes.

“I do believe that my wife and I have other more important matters than you, Lord Wormwood.” Aemond cuts in, his voice cutthroat.

“I, uh, I well..” Lord Wormwood stutters out, shocked by the sight of Aemond lurking over you like some kind of protective dragon.

“Goodbye, Lord Wormwood.” You nod, dragging him away.

Feeling the tension within the room grow with each second, you softly intertwined your hands with Aemond, to prevent him from reaching for his blade. Tightening your grip on him, you start to drag Aemond away, knowing that he’d make some comment or at worst do something to Lord Wormwood. The last thing you needed and wanted was for a fight to erupt because some stupid old man couldn’t take a hint that you were married.

“Come, come, Aemond. I am sure Helaena will be happy for us to join her.” You lie, tugging at him a little harder.

“Yes, let us go, my wife.” He nods, his voice sharp.

“Come, Aemond.” You grit your teeth, “Let us go, now.”

“Yes.” Aemond glares down the squirming Lord, like he hoped that he would burst into flames.

Cringing at the tension in the air, you tug him a little harder, struggling as he was practically glued to his spot. Sighing as he refuses to move, you press a kiss onto his cheek, using it as a way to soften him just enough to drag him away. Smirking as he instantly melts like a dragon burning a piece of wood, you drag him forcefully, weaving your way through the sea of Courtiers.

“You kissed me.” He mumbles, a faint hum of pink on his cheeks.

“I did.”

“You kissed me, in public.” He repeats, “You have never done that before.”

“Yes, well, I cannot exactly carry you over my shoulder to stop you from killing that man. So a kiss is what it was.” You counters back, a hint of wit in your voice.

Looking over his face in an attempt to see his reaction, he doesn’t really display any emotions, just this flatness which was typical of him. You liked to think he was born with a stone face and that Alicent had mistaken him for a statue instead of a babe. Cocking a brow up at the lack of anything from him, you softly squeeze his hand, attempting to get his attention or something from him.

“I do not like him.” He grumbles, the disdain clear in his voice.

“Oh, really? I had no clue that you disliked him.” You jest, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Do not jest. Tis’ not a jesting manner.” He sulks, “He propositioned you to visit his bedchambers.”

“I know, tis’ why I had you infer. I do not intend to share a bed with any other man than you. So do not even think of entertaining any doubt’s, Aemond.” You argue, quickly dismissing any doubt he may have.

He goes quiet for the longest time. It almost looked like he was actually accepting your words without any possible argument or disagreement. Relaxing for a moment, you watch as he licks his bottom lip, his eye narrowing for a moment.

“Let me kill him.” He mumbles, almost like he was begging you to allow it.

“Not in public.” You argue, not taking him seriously.

“That can be arranged.” He smiles, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

Shaking your head with a gentle scoff, you look over his face for a moment, seeing that he was being serious. The look on your face shifting into one of annoyance. Whilst other men would have lashed out and caused a scene, Aemond was cunning and waited. Like a snake hiding in the tall grass. Smacking his arm softly, he lets out a soft snort, a cheeky little grin spreading on his face.

“No.”

“Fine.” He mumbles, rushing away from you. “I will not be the one to do it.”

“Aemond Targaryen, don’t you dare.” You scold, chasing after him.

---

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

@zaldritzosrose

#house of the dragon #house of dragons #house of dragons x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader

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steadybear · 2 days

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“ 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 “

𝐩𝐫𝗼𝗺𝐩𝐭 : 𝐲𝐚𝐧! 𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝗼 𝗼𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝗺𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝗼𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫

Content warnings: dubcon to marriage, sexual coercion, hatefucking, yandere themes, breeding kink, marriage kink if thats a thing???, nsfw content 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 𝟏𝟖+, gay sex, anal sex, anal penetration, oral sex (reader receiving), spanking, choking, hair pulling, unsafe sex (wont get sick if you wrap your dick)

Another fair warning, if you're here from my Dan Heng fic, this is a lot more intense/dark and emotional than the last one

My inner angst writer shone through in it, if you want to skip down to juicy parts and skip said angst, there's going to be a different bracket to denote where the steamy activity starts.

“ new contact noted! caller 𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚢𝚊𝚝𝚘 has been added to your phonebook! - love, 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑡-19 “

"Lord Kamisato, it's been quite a while since we've last spoken."

Komore Teahouse was somewhere that reminded you of your childhood, something far in the past. It was a little home away from home, your father and the Yashiro Commissioner of your childhood would be here for meetings. You would listen in on all the important details, but terminology and code words would fly over your head. The pleasant smell of tea would hang in the air while you sat, quietly and obediently without so much as lifting your hand to grab one of the many sweets strewn on the table. Instead, you'd train your eyes on the floor in front of you, fold your hands in your lap, and focus on your breathing.

There was almost always another little boy that would join in on tea time, just a couple months younger. Soft looking baby blue hair fell over his shoulder, bright eyes to match. The Commissioner would softly pet his head when your father would compliment him on his manners. Papa, as you affectionately called him in your younger years, would give a smile that would light up the room when the former Lord Kamisato would return the favor. He always took your little hand in his bigger, scarred one and he'd give it a little squeeze.

The first time your fathers left the room, the boy said his name was Ayato.

Yet, you couldn't recognize the man in front of you as that 'Ayato'.

There was a polite smile stretched across his lips as he took his seat in front of you, the smell of Sakura Blossoms choking the aroma of tea leaves that painted the room in a nostalgic light. "There's no need to be so formal, we've known each other since we were children."

Your grip on your cup tightened, though your facial expression remained relaxed. "I suppose we have." You brought the fine china to your lips to take a languid sip before gently resting it on the table. "What do you want from me?"

The same cursedly beautiful baby blue eyes darkened when they met yours, something someone who didn't know him better wouldn't have picked up on. "Is it so strange for me to invite my best friend out for tea when I finally have the time?"

Your lips twitched downwards, displeased. "Don't try to paint me as some villain, you don't request formal meetings unless you need something."

His grin remained placid, serene, and yet it grew more strained. The tension at the corners of his lips gave way to the bitter disappointment beneath his carefree façade. His fingers came to gently rest on his thighs, the quiet drag of his sleeves on the floor cutting through the silent wall of displeasure that seemingly split the room in two. "You don't seem to respond to any of my invitations otherwise."

Your lips pursed, you found it hardly necessary to hide your animosity for him.

"Would you believe me if I said I missed seeing you?"

To this, your dry laugh cut through the air. Hands balling into fists on your lap, you pushed them into your legs as a reminder to keep your wits about you. "I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest. You've never been one to be play fair."

You caught a speck of hurt in his eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. Instead, his hand wrapped gingerly around the handle of the kettle, pouring himself a cup of tea. "Your tongue is still as sharp as ever."

"You act as if you're innocent, Commissioner," fists lightly curling the fabric of your own intricate kimono bottoms, "I don't recall any kind of apology for anything you've done."

To this, he didn't answer.

The silence hung in the air like a veil of fog.

The next thing to interrupt said silence was his gloved hand wrapping his fingers around the rim of his teacup and bringing it to his lips.

You let out a low huff, "I'll only ask again once, Ayato, what is it you want from me?"

He took a moment to answer, holding the delicate glass in his hand. He stared into the amber liquid as if searching for a script in the ripples created by the barely noticeable tremble in his arm.

His next words drifted past his lips like a ghost, just barely above a whisper.

"Your hand in marriage."

...

"...I beg your pardon?"

His eyes lifted from his tea finally, eyes swirling in anticipation. "I said, I want your hand in marriage."

You gave a laugh of disbelief, eyebrows curling in offended dissolution. "No, no-" Your hands raised to rest on the corners of the table. You went to use it as a crutch to help you stand up. "Absolutely not, the audacity of you to suggest such a thing is baffling and outright-"

You cut yourself off in favor of shaking your head, beginning to stand up.

His hand twitched towards your retreating form, "Take a moment to consider it-"

"What is there to consider?!" You snapped, "You've ruined so many business opportunities for my family and suddenly, you think you have the right to demand that from me?"

He looked up at you from his seat, slamming his cup on the table with enough fervor for the tea to splash out from the rim of the glass. "I did it for your own good-"

"Just because it meant promising others my hand in marriage didn't mean that my family didn't need it, you selfish, selfish, conniving-" You wanted to continue, but you cut yourself off for the sake of trying to keep your relationship as cordial as possible. Instead, you let out an indignant huff. With another infuriated groan, "You of all people should understand that I have more things to worry about than my own happiness!"

He tried to call your name, pathetically, acting like he hadn't done anything wrong in the slightest, "I never let your family suffer for losing those proposals, I always made sure you were taken care of by the Commission-"

"Does that change the fact that you're selfish and conniving Ayato?" You accused, hands balling into fists once again. "Why is it you think I would be willing to be married to a man who's proven he can't be trusted over and over again if it means he gets what he wants?"

You spied the wounds you'd torn open in the way his lips were pressed into a thin line, the inner corner of his eyebrows curving upwards. His eyes flitted between the two of yours, interpreting the brewing cascade of hatred that ebbed and flowed through your irises. "Because I love you, I've loved you since the day I met you and you'll never find a man who will love you in your entirety as much as I do."

Your jaw tensed as you swallowed a glob of saliva down your throat. With it, you swallowed a few choice words that would've exploded from your throat like a firecracker. "Love won't feed my family, Ayato. Love will not uphold my family's legacy. Love won't erase the fake sincerity you showed me the day you tried to kill the woman I was supposed to marry on our wedding day-"

"You don't have a choice."

You froze when your eyes met his hardened expression.

"What in archons' name are you talking about?"

You could see the column of his throat move as he swallowed. "You should sit down."

You grit your teeth, "No, I want to know what the hell you're talking about."

...

"Our marriage has long been anticipated by the public," He started, hand wrapping around his teacup. It didn't seem like he had any intent to actually take a drink of it, instead he occupied himself with swirling it around. "Your family is reliant on the internal affairs of Inazuma, it would be of great importance to your clan's longevity to get their foot in the door of the Yashiro Commission."

You narrowed your eyes at him, "And?"

He continued to avoid eye contact, eyes trained on the spinning whirlpool of tea. "Your family has long wanted to ask for either my own or Ayaka's hand, but believed they weren't in any standing to make a political climb that drastic. Specifically, your father hoped we'd set up some kind of engagement when we were young, but my father passed away before it could be finalized."

You felt your blood run cold.

You realized what he was insinuating with a violent shiver traveling up your spine. Your words were slow and drawn out, your voice dimming as you admitted the fatal flaw in your argument.

"You could secure a marriage without my input anyways."

His eyes finally lifted to meet yours, "I wanted to ask you first."

You could feel yourself trembling with anger, but instead of snapping at him, you let out a shaky scoff. "I was right, you haven't changed at all." You pushed a hand through your hair, "No, actually, I take that back, you're even worse than I remember. You always promised me you would put me and my family's comfort first, but now you're-" You started laughing, cold and ugly.

This time, he was the one to snap at you, "I didn't expect you to be so willing to give yourself away to someone else!" He stood up to be nearly eye to eye with you. "I was the one that grew up with you, I was the one that was there for you when your mother passed, I was the one that you swore your loyalty to when we were younger-"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, Ayato!"

"NO!" He stepped in closer, elegantly maneuvering around the table. "Do you not want to remember all the time we were each other's one and only? Do you not want to remember when I promised to marry you? Do you-"

"That was before you tried to kill someone!" You took a step back from him, your voice cracking at what you could only dub the worst moment. "You're a psychopath and as much as my father wants to pretend it wasn't you who set it up, you still sent her into critical condition! You- You-"

He stepped closer to you, reaching out to try to pry your hands away from your face, he said your name with such desperation he almost sounded like he was the victim.

"Get off of me!" You pushed him away from you by the chest, only growing more upset with just how little space it made for you. You wanted him in the pits of hell, and yet he was still in this beautiful little teahouse.

"Kamisato Ayato, even if I have to marry you, I swear to all of Celestia above who hear me, for as long as I live, I will never love you!"

"You don't mean that."

His words hung in your conscious like a parasite. Clinging to the inside of your dome and following you around as a hidden stowaway. You would've been amused if this was some kind of villain in those light novels, but this was Ayato. This was the Yashiro Commissioner, Lord Kamisato, whichever title he preferred. He held so much power over your life and your family's legacy you had to take his word as gospel and the conversation was one of the many things you had to transcribe in this holy text.

By the time Ayato formally proposed the alliance to your father, you'd come to terms with the fact you would have no chance to escape him. You'd spoken to the man you'd been informally courting all this time, someone you'd planned to spend the rest of your life with just a few short weeks ago. You broke the singular heart the two of you had shared, that beat in time with one another. Now Ayato had to honor of stomping on its remains as your paramour watched you get married to the man you'd claimed to despise.

"Kazuha." You greeted.

You tried to hide the sorrow and longing laden in your gaze, but you could tell by the way he returned the same look back to you that any and all attempts were a miserable failure. He called your name softly, the same manner of greeting. This was supposed to be the reception of your wedding, a time of joy and celebration, yet all you could feel was a bitterness fester in the pit of your stomach.

Why?

You asked yourself this over and over again. Why must you have let all those silly promises to Ayato slip past your lips when you were younger? Why must he have turned out to be as ruthless and dishonest as he was now?

Why did you have to let go of happiness you thought was finally in your grasp?

The poet's voice felt wispy, light and refreshing, but also laced with pity. It sounded like what a weeping willow looked like when it hit your ears, "Congratulations on your joyous union."

Your voice was equally as soft as you looked at him, "Thank you."

You thanked him, but not for his congratulations. You thanked him for his understanding.

You could tell he understood your implication when he delicately questioned, "How is it that you and Lord Kamisato decided to finally be wed?"

Your expression softened, finally letting the strained smile you'd forced yourself to wear the entire day falter just a little bit. "Everyone around us knew it would happen sooner or later. Had the former Yashiro Commissioner not regretfully passed, Lord Kamisato and I would have been wed the morning the both of us were eighteen."

He hummed, holding up the small glass of sake he was nursing since the beginning of the reception just the slightest as an invitation, "I see... would you care for a toast? For all of the memories two created along the way?"

It was not for the memories you created with Ayato, you realized, but all the memories you created with him. Something akin to a final goodbye.

The smile returned to your face, genuine this time. You couldn't see it, but your eyes shone with adoration as you responded quietly, "Of course." Kazuha's own heart was swelling with a woeful passion. But his own smile remained on his features when the two of you clinked your glasses together and took a long swig of the alcohol.

The air was peaceful, beautifully comforting. It was something you'd longed to feel since your hopes and dreams had been carelessly extinguished by who you used to believe was your closest childhood companion.

The atmosphere immediately dropped when the sound of a familiar voice drifted into the small, semi-secluded area you'd found yourself in to steal just a few more moments with your former lover. It drifted in like a phantom, automatically killing the mood despite it's subtlety.

"Am I interrupting something?"

You did your best not to scowl, but you failed to stop your lips from pressing into a thin line. Kazuha noticed the tension immediately. He'd always been the more perceptive of the two of you anyways. "Lord Kamisato, I wished to congratulate a good friend on a delightful marriage. I hope I didn't steal him away from the festivities for too long."

Despite his light-hearted laugh, you could tell Ayato was unhappy. "No worries, Lord Kaedehara, but if you'd be so kind, the day has been rather hectic. I haven't had the chance to enjoy a moment alone with my husband."

Kazuha had wanted to stay in an attempt to help you once last time, always putting you first. Perhaps he could've prevented any tense conversations in front of guests. It seems his last act of love had failed. "...Ah, I suppose I'll be taking my leave then."

Ayato looped his hand to hang onto your bicep, a much more content smile gracing his features as he watched the familiar silhouette disappear into the crowd once more. Once the two of you were alone, he turned his attention to you.

"I didn't want to demand anymore from you, but it still wounds me when my husband chooses to spend his time with another man the day of our wedding."

His smile still looked as radiant as it had when the two of you were standing before the altar, but once again, you could see the swirling and darkening displeasure in his eyes.

You scoffed, painting a similar smile on your features. His mood seemed to lighten just the slightest bit, however his hopes were dashed when your words were harsh and cold. "Spare me, I don't want to spend more time with you than I must."

He gave what looked to onlookers like a playful squeeze to your bicep, but his words were equally callous, "Humor me, I've finally caught you and despite all my devotion you act as though you hate me."

You leaned in close to his ear, pretending to whisper a fond secret. You wanted to watch him struggle to keep the smile on his face when you told him the thing that always seemed to hurt him the most throughout the course of wedding planning.

"I'm not acting, if you need me to spell it out, I do hate you."

"You're leaving?"

You turned back to the luxurious futon, Ayato sitting on one side of it. He looked serene, angelic in his sleeping yukata. He had the covers pulled over his legs and his hands folded in his lap. Picturesque, you admitted in your head begrudgingly.

"What did you expect?" Your own yukata hung off your frame loosely, having been hastily put on. Your arm was wrapped around the belt, making sure that at the very least you would be decent while you were walking through the halls of the estate you were now hopelessly confined to.

His brows were furrowed, confused, panicked. His hand came to rest on what should have been your side of the futon with a frown, "It's late, where are you going?"

You huffed, turning your back to him again and going to slide open the door to your shared bedroom. "I'm tired, I'm going to sleep."

His voice took on a displeased undertone, one hand fisting the covers strewn across his lap. "The futon is here, where else would you sleep?"

You shook your head, "I'm going to my study, don't bother waiting up for me. I won't be returning until the sun breaks." Your hand found the dark and smooth treated wood of the door. Just as your fingers went to pry it open, you noted the sound of shuffling with dismay.

His hand was ghosting over your shoulder in moments, "If not every night, then at least for tonight could you stay? What would the attendants think if you weren't in our marital chambers the night we were married?"

You shrugged his hand off aggressively, hand pushing open the doors to your room. "If you loved me you would let me leave despite what anyone else would think, Lord Kamisato."

Both of his hands returned to both of your shoulders, fingers digging into the thin fabric. "Then would you let me be selfish and indulge me? I want to sleep next to my husband tonight."

"You keep calling me your husband. We may be married but I don't love you, can you respect my wishes this once?" Your hand was like a constrictor around his wrist, tugging his greedy palms off of you. You tried to erase the sight of your wedding band glinting in the low light as you did so.

"You can ask for anything else, but this is something I'm not willing to compromise on." He didn't let up, your fist still wrapped around his arm. "We are married, not only is it improper for you to sleep anywhere else, it's especially improper for you to leave on the night of the wedding. We still haven't fulfilled all of our obligations to officiate the marriage-"

"For her excellency's sake, get your hands off of me!" You cursed, all but shoving him away. "You are lucky I was raised a man of honor or you wouldn't be getting anything out of me, you greedy snake."

He returned your anger with venom of his own, "And what, pray tell, do you mean by that?"

You occupied yourself with properly tying on your Yukata, "You are lucky I choose to be faithful to you, to forsake all others, should you have picked any other unlucky victim they would most likely be running off with their own mistress-"

"If you're still thinking about someone else when you put your ring on my finger, you clearly aren't a man of honor!" He bit back.

You narrowed your eyes at him, tightening the knot on your clothing. "You are so incredibly lucky that Kazuha didn't deserve to be some mistress. He deserves so much more than to be some dirty little secret I kept in my pocket for the rest of his life-"

Baby blue seemed to pierce through your defenses, the clear hurt, but also vindictive anger shining pure and unadulterated back at you. "I am the one that you married, and yet all you think about is him. If you think doing the bare minimum of not inviting someone into our bed is being a man of honor, you are sorely mistaken."

You finally turned your full attention to him, ignoring your need to leave the room as quickly as possible by this point, "What more do you think you're entitled to?!" As quickly as the words tumbled out of your mouth, you shook your head, realizing you'd stepped right into his trap. "Forget it, don't disturb me again. I'm leaving."

"I wanted to have a real marriage!" He all but screamed, frustrated tears brewing in his eyes, "I wanted to carry out all the traditional rituals of newly weds. I wanted to fall asleep listening to the sound of your heart, I wanted you to treat me like more than some kind of villain-"

You sucked in a harsh breath, "You're sorely mistaken if you think a ceremony and a ring would erase everything you've-"

"For fuck's sake, I wanted to feel like you loved me again." His tears streamed down his cheeks, "I wanted to feel you hold me underneath the moonlight like lovers do in all those silly light novels you made me read, I wanted to go to sleep surrounded by the knowledge that I was married to the love of my life."

Your jaw hung, slack at his confession. "You can't possibly mean-"

His hands were balled into fists at his sides, "Yes," he breathed through the quake of his voice, "I wanted to consummate the marriage tonight. I thought at the very least you'd want to get it over with."

You stared at him in utter disbelief, abject horror written all over your features. To think he would demand something so intimate out of you without considering your feelings was another level of detached from reality you had the inability to understand. You shook your head, opting not to respond.

His voice came out like a whisper, "Am I really so repulsive to you? I was rather sought after when I was a bachelor. If nothing else, I'm attractive. Do you hate me so much you couldn't put it aside for one night just to fulfill the obligations of a real marriage?"

"Don't talk to me, Ayato." You turned your back on him for the last time that night, finally stepping out of the room and closing the door behind you.

Your eyes shot up when the door to your office opened.

You hadn't been expecting any visitors today, so imagine your dismay when your husband walked through the door. In all of his well-maintained, elegant glory, there was a small smile stretching across his cheeks.

It had been a few months since your wedding, since then, you also had not slept in the same bed, eaten any meals together, nor did you take particular interest in the innerworkings of the Yashiro Commission in its entirety. No, you largely kept away from anything that had anything to do with Ayato. You were still nice to everyone else in the house though. After all, you hadn't been raised in a barn. You were a proud heir to a business that reached far and wide, you kept your manners in tact no matter the situation.

Usually, your day consisted of waking up at the very crack of dawn, back on fire. You slept in your study on the floor with a blanket, much to the dismay of Thoma. He had come to take care of you just as much as he took care of Ayato and Ayaka, viewing you as an extension of the family. Despite all of Thoma's begging, Ayato refused to purchase another futon for you, claiming you had a perfectly functional one you could be using. In your stubborn little argument, you too, refused to order yourself a futon.

Sure, your quality of sleep had declined, but you still had your pride in tact.

Despite being awake so early, you never caught Thoma off guard. In fact, he would be quick to enter the room with some tea and a fresh set of clothing he'd managed to weasel past a sleeping Ayato. Usually, if Thoma got caught trying to bringing you your clothing in the morning, Ayato would stop him and tell him your legs weren't broken and you could get your clothing yourself. You would drink your tea, Thoma would leave the room, and you'd dress yourself. Thoma would offer you breakfast, you'd take a small offering out of courtesy, and then you'd disappear off to your office to help run the business with your father.

In the afternoon, you would usually come home and find Ayaka. Seeing as she was your sister-in-law and someone you'd also grown up with, you enjoyed making pleasant conversation and catching up. As soon as Ayato returned from whatever duties had taken him away from the manor, you would slink off to your study. Thoma would bring you your dinner when you'd refuse to leave your brooding room, you'd eat. You'd change into the sleep attire you kept in your study, fall asleep on the ground, repeat cycle.

It was just like Ayato to throw a wrench into your perfectly crafted schedule.

"Commissioner... to what do I owe the pleasure?" the words flowed past your lips reluctantly, a special flavor of vitriol hand in hand with each syllable.

He seated himself in front of your desk, taking note of the seeming mountains of paperwork. The sight wasn't unfamiliar to him either. All the more reason for this visit to set alarm bells ringing in your mind. "Come now, that's hardly the way to address your husband, dearest."

You see now why he left the door to your office open. For fear of frightening your subordinates, you played along. "I mustn't forget my place, love, after all, we are in public."

Even though the word was strained, you could see his smile pull just the slightest bit up his cheeks upon hearing the pet name. "Who would dare question you returning you husband's affections? Do tell, I'll make sure the full might of the Yashiro Commission will come down upon them."

You gave a playful chuckle back at him, fully embracing the self-loathing that came with it as you pushed yourself up from your seated position. You took careful steps to the door, pretending you wanted to get some alone time with your so-called lover. "You spoil me."

"It is only natural, is it not?" He smiled, allowing himself to pretend this was the truth of his marriage. Oh, how he loved to make you squirm.

You couldn't shut the door fast enough.

Once, the two of you were guaranteed to be away from the prying eyes of others, you took your seat at your desk again. You picked up your brush, scanning over the writings in front of you. "Why are you here?"

"Is it so wrong for a man to want to visit his other half?"

You grit your teeth, doing your best to bite back the invectives you wanted to badly to hurl in his direction. "You certainly haven't visited me before."

He waved it off, "We've only been wed for a few months, surely you understand the difficulties of responsibility and obligation."

"Ayato," you warned, "-don't toy with me. I am well aware you have some kind of motive for pushing your work aside. Get on with it."

He pursed his lips, "If my motive was just to invite you out to lunch?"

You knuckles whitened in their grip on your brush, "Cute, now tell me why you're really here."

He sighed, readjusting his sitting position. "I suppose it can't be helped, you've known me for far too long."

For once, you agreed with him. "Indeed."

Ayato seemed to swallow spit down his throat, "I want a divorce."

You paused, brush stopping on your page. Your eyes met his, shocked. In all your time knowing him, he had never been one to surrender his prizes when he finally got his hands on them. This revelation only prompted one question to tumble past your lips. "What's the catch?"

"Divorce wouldn't look good on either of our families, but I'm afraid your family will bear the brunt of the backlash." His finger delicately traced circles on the top of your desk. "Failed engagements aren't the best omen to a family's prosperity. Not only this, a failed marriage that is revealed to have been begun on false pretenses would only further shatter the credibility of your family's business."

You cursed under your breath, pressing your free hand's fingertips on your temple. "State your demands."

He seemed almost giddy that his bluff had paid off. His face lit up with this boyish delight that had your stomach twisting in a woeful knot.

"Simple, I want to spend tomorrow night as lovers."

Despite your attempts to draw out your work for the day, ultimately you still had to return to the large estate that was now your home. Instead of taking a left turn in the long corridor to your study, you swallowed the spit in your mouth and walked further down the hall to what was technically supposed to be your bedroom.

You wanted to try and work as late as possible, hoping Ayato would already be asleep by the time you returned home. You could make the excuse that you were much too busy to consider being intimate, but much to your dismay, he had waited for you to get home. This was the first time in months you'd willingly entered the room, and yet, every inch of it was burned into your memory.

Right down to the man sitting awake and alert in the middle of the futon.

As soon as he heard the door open, his eyes were on you in an instant. Not even a second later, he was on his feet, slinking towards the doorway. You shoved the brewing grimace back down into your gut and away from actually making itself known on your features. Instead, you let your expression remain neutral as he rested his hands on the collar of your clothing. "You're here."

"Did you think I was lying?" You asked, carefully, letting your own hands rest on his wrists. Instead of doing what you usually did, prying his greedy mitts off of you, you settled for just loosely holding them in place. It wasn't lost on you that Ayato was pleasantly surprised by this change of pace.

"No, you've never been a liar, dearest." He let his pet name for you roll off his tongue like honey, yet it tasted as bitter as bile when it slithered through your ear canals. "But being told what will happen is much different to actually experiencing it."

There was a calm, placid smile on his face as he reached a hand up to stroke the side of your face lovingly. He was acting as though his doting husband had come back from war, not his prisoner finally ending his little strike and returning to his little prison cell. You hadn't had any physical contact like this in months, you really hadn't realized how much you missed it. You let your eyes close and your face lean into his palm with a tired sigh.

He was practically exploding with a twisted sense of triumph while he observed. It had been so long since you had so much as looked at him. Now, you were letting him touch you, willingly. His voice came out hushed, just barely ghosting through the air. It seemed as though he hadn't wanted to ruin the moment by pressing you further, "Do you want to do this tonight? I wouldn't mind going to sleep and trying another time as long as you promise to stay here more often."

You hummed, shaking your head, "I made a promise to you, Ayato. I don't go back on my promises."

His breath hitched in his throat when you gently peeled his hand off your cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his wrist. He called your name quietly, almost as if urging you to reconsider. You wondered if it was for your sake or his own.

You didn't want to hear anymore of his protests or his complaints, so you leaned down just enough to be eye to eye with him. "Can I kiss you?"

He didn't respond verbally, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose and nodding his head quickly.

You pressed an innocent kiss to his lips, waiting a moment before pressing another one in the same spot. You lingered, noting the barely noticeable hum from your husband's throat. Your hands came to rest on his hips, carefully peeling your lips open and waiting for him to follow suit.

He was quick to take the hint, deepening the kiss and tilting his head to the side. It turned heated rather soon after, starting with a tentative swipe of your tongue against his. He rewarded you with a moan, his mouth opening wider to accommodate anything you were willing to give him.

Before you knew it, the two of you were staggering towards the futon, intertwined in one another's arms. His palm was pressing against your flaccid dick, trying to get a reaction out of you. You, on the other hand, had your grip on his hips, squeezing his love handles every now and then as encouragement or affirmation. You weren't a half-hearted lover, if you planned on doing something, you followed through to the best of your ability.

Ultimately, you came to sit on the edge of the bed, Ayato kneeled between your legs. His face was red, breathing heavily and panting. His eyes screamed with desire and twisted with passion. His own arousal was clearly between his legs, much easier to see with the thin material of his sleepwear. Still, he insisted on paying attention to you before himself.

He rested his head on the inside of your thigh, submissive and demure. You did your best to push his misdeeds out of your mind, focusing on having an attractive man's attention all to yourself. More than eager to please, he positively drank in your attention, hands coming up to pull at your waistband.

He pulled it down just enough to expose your erection to the cold air, you swallowed the hiss that threatened to burst past your lips and instead focused on brushing his hair behind his ear. You watched the pleasant shudder run through his body, his desperate hands coming to wrap around your length.

He pressed a soft kiss to the head of it, licking across the tip and paying special attention to the slit. You let out a grunt of approval, hand moving from behind his ear to tangle itself into more of his baby blue hair. His cheeks flushed an even darker blood red as he kissed the side of it this time.

"Let me take care of you tonight, darling. You've been so good to me today," he practically begged. He waited for your affirmation, needy for your encouragement. You nodded absentmindedly, eyes half-lidded as you stared down at him.

He practically moaned when he first took your cock into his mouth, the vibrations sending a pleasurable tingle up your spine. You shuddered under his attention, watching each inch disappear past his lips until he stopped abruptly and gagged. The spasm of his throat elicited another groan out of you, your eyes closing to properly register the delectable debauched feeling.

He lifted up off your dick to take a deep breath before going back down again. It was better the second time around, having the flat of his tongue caress the underside of your length. He let a good amount of saliva dribble past his lips and slide down the shaft. He used it as a lubricant as he worked to stroke what he couldn't immediately fit in his mouth. You bit your lip at the pleasant sensations.

He started to bob his head up and down slowly, most likely testing out the feeling for himself before fully putting all of his effort into it. You leaned back further onto the futon, bracing yourself on the hand that wasn't busying itself with combing through his hair. You let yourself be lost in the sensations and lewd noises of saliva and gagging. Your eyes fluttering shut as a few groans escaped your lips.

He pulled off of your length with another pornographic noise, trying to catch his breath. "Honey, please look at me." His hands continued to stroke languidly up and down as he caught his breath. "I want to see your reactions, knowing it's your husband that's making you feel good." He pressed his cheek onto the inside of your thigh again, a cheeky smile carved into his cheeks.

You opened your eyes to peer down at him, tensing your jaw as he used his thumb to toy with your slit. Even if you didn't want to admit it, you kind of had to say he knew exactly what to do when it came to handling your sex.

His smile stretched further, a beautifully sinful glaze darkening his irises as he stared into your eyes. You felt pathetic for putting your dignity aside for something as small as carnal pleasure but you couldn't stop yourself from asking him,

"Are you going to keep going?"

His eyes were on you like a starved man presented with a gourmet, luxury, full-course meal. You almost felt like you were the one getting deflowered, the one that was about to be ravaged.

Ayato laid beneath you on the futon, his appearance disheveled and the front of his yukata open so he was laid completely bare for you to see. Desire fermented in his core, and you could see it in the way his usually pale skin was painted a soft pink hue, slick with sweat. The two of you had barely done anything, and yet, he was practically begging you to continue with the way he looked into your eyes.

His fingers tugged impatiently at your own clothing, just about drooling as he watched you shed each and every layer. You leaned forward, looming over him as you indulged him with another open-mouthed kiss. His eyes and your own fluttered shut as your fingertips ghosted its way down his abdomen.

He whined into your liplock when you hands stopped just short of his ass, coming to rest on his hips. You didn't immediately give into his greedy demands to keep going, opting to give yourself a moment to steel yourself for whatever would come after this. His arms gingerly snaked their way over your shoulders and curved around your neck. One of his hands came upward to play with your hair.

Finally, you continued to trail your soft touches further down, stopping to knead the fat of his ass before continuing even lower. He positively blossomed at your careful and loving attention, vocal in his satisfaction with each and every movement you made. You pulled away from the kiss, offering him two fingers pressed against his bottom lip.

Wordlessly, he pushed your hand away, bashfully avoiding eye contact and looking down towards where the two of you would be connected momentarily. Following his gaze, your eyes widened as you realized he was already prepped beforehand.

Even if you had treated him like porcelain up until now, it didn't change the fact there was a hatred for him that took hold in your gut. You pressed another soft kiss to the side of his neck before gingerly taking the skin between your teeth.

Underneath you, he let out a sweet moan, his hand pulling at the hair on the back of your head out of reflex. You grunted against his skin. Freeing his neck from your canines. "I didn't know I married such a whore."

A whimper sounded from the back of his throat, something that'd been meant to degrade him only seemed to deliver blood rushing to his dick. It twitched against your stomach, his thighs trying to rub together despite both of your knees pinning them open.

Despite the lack of warning, you lined yourself up to his entrance and slammed yourself in to the hilt with a considerable amount of force. You relished in his choked scream as his fist nearly tore a chunk of hair from your scalp. "W-Wait, dear-"

You drew your hips back again, bucking them forward into his perineum again. He cut himself off with a squeal when you brushed past his prostate for the second time. He looked up at you drearily, confused. He went to open his mouth again, to beg you to be gentle or to go slower. But you beat him to it,

"If you want to act like a needy whore, you'll be treated like one, dear husband."

He went to protest, but he was cut off with another harsh thrust that sent him further into the futon. He whimpered pathetically as he squirmed under your gaze. He might have gotten a little carried away before you'd gotten home, but he hadn't known you'd react to it so extremely. Once he'd finally learned to keep his mouth shut, you rewarded him with another earth-shattering movement of your hips.

His thighs tried to squeeze together, but your hips were in the way. It left him largely defenseless from your onslaught on his prostate. He took in a deep breath that was promptly knocked out of him as you set a decently quick pace to start off with.

Soon enough, the room was filled with the sound of whorish whining as you battered his insides with your cock. The force of your thrusts creating a lump on his toned stomach muscles, you raked in a twisted satisfaction from his suffering as he tried desperately to adjust to the abrupt change to pace.

He called your name, hiccupping through it, "Slower- ahn~ Sl-Slower, please- hn~ I beg of yooUu-"

You didn't respond to him, ignoring him entirely as you trailed your mouth to his collarbones. You bit down harshly on one of them, sadistically aroused by the way his back arched underneath you. He keened at the abuse, eyes shutting as he allowed himself to be lost in the rhythm of your hips.

The fingers previously tangled in your hair moved to scratching down your neck with his semi-blunt fingernails. You hissed at the raised red marks that followed behind his desperate movements. While you certainly enjoyed putting him in a compromising position, you didn't care as much when he was the one inflicting pain on you.

Deciding to return his favor again, you let him believe you were going to be a little more gentle. Your hips slowed down momentarily as you trailed little butterfly kisses up the side of his neck. You allowed yourself to be proud of the explosive shiver that burst through his nervous system, even more excited to see what his next reaction would be.

You sucked a light red mark into his jawline before grinding the skin between your teeth, speeding up your hips exponentially. There was a pleasant satisfaction that settled over your body as the one you were fucking into the bed seized up in an silent scream. His back arched into a beautiful curve, almost as though trying to run from the hand pressed against the small of his back, but begging for more as it pressed into your chest.

A few short seconds later, his pitchy moan ripped through the air as his legs pulled up closer to his chest and his toes curled. However, you didn't let up, only further fueled on by his intense reaction. If he thought you were going as fast as you could before, he was sorely mistaken as you picked up the pace once again.

You used the hand on his back to push him into your own muscular chest, the bump on his stomach protruding not only from his abdomen muscles, but now having the added pressure of your stomach on top of it. His own cock was pressed between your two bodies, the sweat sticking to your skin making the slide comfortable.

It wasn't long before Ayato's nails raked down your back one more time and his squeals echoed through the room. "Cu-Cumming- ouh~ ouh~ i'm cumming, i'm cummingi'mcumming-"

His eyes crossed before rolling into the back of his skull, his lips parting in another shriek before coating both of your stomachs in his spend.

Despite enjoying watching him suffer, you slowed your hips and rocked him through his high tenderly. His arms dropped from around your neck, resting his forearm over his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. He shuddered as you continued to slowly move, the sweet burn of overstimulation coursing through his entire body like some kind of poison.

"D-Darling, I just came- mmhh~ p-please, spare meee~"

You gently grasped his wrist to pull his arm away from his face. Despite the sweet smile on your features, he could tell from the wicked glee swirling in your pupils that you had no intention to allow him a moment to rest.

You tenderly brushed your lips over the pulse point on his wrist, watching him shiver as you continued to slowly move your hips. "Ah, but sweetheart, you were the one begging me to spend the night together as lovers." You intertwined your fingers with his as you gave a light-hearted chuckle,

"I'm simply giving you what you want."

"D-DeArehest- Ahnnn~"

Ayato couldn't do anything besides pathetical rest his upper half against the soft futon as you basically fucked the daylights out of him. His eyes had long rolled up into the back of his head, the number of times he'd spilled across the bedspread had gone uncounted past the second. Having already been filled up once, the second round of sex was arguably even more torturous as the overstimulation curling outwards from his gut turned from pleasant tingling all over the body to violent bursts coursing through his nerves.

In response to Ayato's pathetic call for your attention, you grabbed a fistful of his silvery blue hair, pulling him off of the mattress to preserve his scalp. He mewled lewdly at the sudden pain, the shame of being such a masochist pooling in the bottom of his gut.

Teasingly, you answered from behind him, continuing to pound his now limp body into the mattress. "Yes, my treasured husband?" You'd figured out you'd rather liked doggystyle, specifically because Ayato no longer had the comfort of kisses or reassuring looks from you.

Your voice had a singy-songy twang to it, obviously very pleased with the state you'd demoted him down to. His eyes were laced with tears, drool streaming down his chin with another anguished moan escaping past his abused, swollen lips. The crafty, steadfast Yashiro Commissioner turned to a pathetic, needy whore in bed. It was enough to make anyone at least a little prideful.

"P-pleaheeaseeee no mooohreeeee, mmmmhhh~"

His hands fisted the soft blankets underneath him, his voice pitifully shaky, slurred, and drawn out. His thighs trembled with each powerful thrust aimed at his rear, his arms shook and buckled from the overwhelming pleasure surging through his bloodstream. More tears streamed from his eyes as you continued to tug at his beautiful blue locks.

You clicked your tongue at him, letting go of his hair to wind your arm back before bringing your palm down across the fat of his ass. "How ungrateful, Ayato-" you grunted when he subconsciously clenched down on your length, "Your dearest has been treating you so well all night and your only thought is to be unappreciative?"

He sobbed pathetically into the pillow he'd been dropped back onto, his mind reeling in the waves of pleasure crashing through his body with each and every magical piston of your equally magical dick. "I-I'm shorrryyy- ouh~"

Your hand came down on his ass again, hissing when he tightened around you. "I should teach you how to properly appreciate when I spoil you like this."

Despite the burn of overstimulation streaking through his gut, he nodded his head frantically against the pillow, desperately seeking your validation even in what could be considered one of his weakest moments. Bent over with his ass in the air, spurting uselessly from his cock while becoming more and more aroused with each punishing spank delivered by his husband's hand.

Your pace picked up once again as the groveling mess that was your husband took its toll on you. You could feel your orgasm approaching, approaching quickly. You groaned as you pressed your chest against his arched back. "You begged me so nicely to cum inside earlier, how about you make it up to me by doing it again? Hm? You can do that for me, can't you beloved?"

He nodded against the pillow. You chuckled, grabbing him by the hair again, pulling him to be supporting himself on his palms again, his squeaks and pleas no longer muffled by the futon. It took him a few moments to full compose himself, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sudden change of pace and position.

One hand pulling his hair, your other wrapped around his neck carefully, giving it a small warning squeeze. He keened under the added pressure, his dick throbbing painfully hard once again, smacking against his stomach.

"Pleasepleaseplease- ahahn~ come inside of me darlIHing~" He choked on his next words as your fist tightened around his trachea. He could feel himself grow lightheaded, both from the lack of oxygen, but also the mounting arousal that came with the exhilaration of knowing how much power you held over him.

The moment you eased up on the pressure, he was begging again, much more eager to keep going with your encouragement. He babbled on, lacking the ability to care less about who could hear their beloved Lord Kamisato begging for his husband's cum while being choked and spanked.

"I nehEeed your cum i- OUh~ insiHide~," With another light squeeze of his throat, he continued to spew more and more pleas. "B-Breed me pleHEasee~ Hah~ I want t-to be fuhull with y-yoUhour- Nghah~ chiHIldreennnn~"

You groaned as you finally bottomed out in him for a second time, spilling inside of him once again as he shrieked in euphoria.

When you let go of him, his front half fell into the futon, murmurs and mumbles of contentment and gratitude gushing past his lips like a broken dam. His hips only really remained upright because you were still sheathed inside.

His thighs shook like a leaf, terribly unstable as you attempted to pull out. Despite all their trembling, the moment you tried to disconnect, his hips pushed backwards into yours with a whimper.

Your features gave way to a smug grin, reaching down and lacing his fingers with yours against the pillows. "Do you not want me to pull out, Ayato?"

He sleepily shook his head, still slumped ass up face down.

"You might get a stomachache in the morning, silly boy."

He flushed a little the more you teased him, shaking his head again. He moved your hand shakily to his cheek, pressing a kiss onto each of your knuckles.

You chuckled, taking an especially excessive pleasure in watching his fucked out, blissed actions.

You had been the one to do this to him.

Even with all the power he held over you, you could still do this to him.

Perhaps...

...

...Perhaps knowing this would make your marriage to Kamisato Ayato just a little bit easier.

there's a note on the side of the phone booth, read it?

" happy gay month to the loml <3 "

hey guys i'm back literally two days later with another 7.5k words smut

I PROMISE I HAVE A LIFE THIS ISN'T THE ONLY THING I DO EVER

i just have too much free time rn

anyways, feel free to submit any requests via my inbox or the post I provided, they're always open and welcome since I'm working on pushing myself out of my writing comfort zone!!

BTW thank you guys so much for your support on the dan heng heat fic i post like 2 days ago???? there's almost 500 notes and i have so many new followers???? Thank you so much?????

i'm really happy you guys enjoy my writing cause I've been a tumblr lurker for a while and I only really made this account to get my writing ideas out, I'm happy to see that it was worth it!!

- love, operator t-19

370 notes · View notes

xrux · 3 days

Text

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 ⋮ 𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮

↪︎ bridesmaid series ∘ haikyuu mlist ∘ general mlist

In which you, a bridesmaid, come across a groomsman who cannot wait to get away from all the drunk and lovesick fools at the wedding reception, much like yourself ⋮ Alternatively, in which you get to know each other while he’s balls deep into you

pairing. miya atsumu x reader

warnings. no reader pronouns, f anatomy! reader, hookups, just a bunch of horny strangers, semi-public touching and grinding a.k.a. inappropriate pda, pet names (darling, sweets, he also keeps calling you cute & pretty), wedgie, masturbation, cockwarming, overstimulation, creampie, pillow talk, pregnancy joke, breast/nipple play

word count. 3.5k

an. this was the first smut I ever wrote (like 4 years back). this is also rewritten & reposted <3

꒰ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢 — 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 ꒱

Your bridesmaid flower crown is long-forgone, swept along the late afternoon tide. The midnight blue scarf wrapped loosely around your neck is about the only thing keeping you warm and. Your borderline-sheer bridesmaid dress would’ve definitely suited the beachy occasion if it weren’t for the fact that temperatures this time of the year are starting to drop.

Still, you pay no mind to the cold when the salty breeze beckons you to dip your toes in the sea, leaving your woes behind in a quick attempt to remove yourself from the reception. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. And to think you’re the only one in your friend group who didn’t come with a +1. No wonder you came to the sea for some company when everyone else has just about taken the dancefloor, dancing not alone to some mood music.

You run your fingers through your hair, pulling it back in a lazy attempt at keeping it in place while you indulge in the ocean breeze. The cold wind kisses your now exposed back, hairs on your nape prickling as you close your eyes and tilt your chin up, baring your neck to the chilly sensation on your skin.

Snapping you out of your daze is the wind snagging the scarf off your neck — the garment didn’t go far but tides have started to be unforgiving at this hour.

It takes you a few good seconds to decide if it’s worth the risk of getting your dress wet, let alone accidentally drowning with no one aware of your whereabouts. Only, anyone who could save you is either drunk or lovesick.

Screw it. You reach for the hems of your dress, holding them up to your knees, about ready to brave the 2-feet-high seawater.

And as if the sea gods had just answered your plea, you freeze in place when you hear a snicker coming from behind you, the apparent source of it walking past you, beating you to your scarf.

It’s one of the groomsmen from your now friend-in-law’s side of the family. Dirty blonde with a clean black undercut, white dress shirt that’s four, five buttons undone, exposing his toned chest.

You wonder how long he was able to make a spectacle of you before rushing to your aid when you realize he’s already barefoot and had more than enough time to take off his shoes and socks. Funny, he didn’t even bother to fold his beige pants before charging on. He shoots you a smirk before picking up your scarf, gently wringing the saltwater out. His shins splash against the tides as he makes his way over to you, looking far too amused for someone whose getup had been needlessly soiled by the ocean.

“You didn’t have to, but thank you, uhm—”

“Atsumu?” He says it like it’s a sarcastic reminder, as if his name is something you’re already supposed to know. “Seemed like an important scarf, and uh — you can thank me tomorrow over dinner.”

You thank the sea gods for answering your prayers even though it almost took a human sacrifice (you) in order for them to grant you company — and someone so easy on the eyes too.

“I feel like I’ve seen this already,” half-impressed, half-suspicious, you say as you take your scarf back.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, in Hercules or the ones you see in clichés. You know… the whole damsel in distress trope? Then the hero conveniently hears her distress call, comes to her rescue, and they both get wet for it.”

“Darling, you barely even dipped in the water. I didn’t get you wet, did I?”

Your lips purse in amusement, causing you to bite the inside of your cheek as you chuckle. “Just a little. But don’t worry, you don’t have to commit.”

“But what if I want to?”

“Then I guess we could look into it after dinner tomorrow. I’m ___. Nice to meet you, Atsumu.”

“Scarf and a date. Must be your lucky day. Pick you up at 8?”

“Sure, but promise me you’ll change into something dry.”

That earns you yet another snicker from him. “I will if you will.”

Your planning is interrupted by the sound of roaring cheers and clinking bottles apparently for someone who had just passed out. It’s ridiculous since it’s only been barely a few hours into the afterparty.

“Whad’ya know. And it’s only 6 o’clock,” you huff out knowing you have to sit through more of these tonight, already mentally exhausted at the thought.

“To think there’s going to be 5 more hours of this or so.”

As if the gods hadn’t blessed you enough today, you find your would-be date as engrossed at the scenery as you. It turns out, he’s as impressed with you as you are with him. His face instantly switches from a scowl to an inquisitive one with a cocked brow. You swear you hear his thoughts as clear as day asking you ‘you thinking what I’m thinking?’.

In case the message didn’t come across, he holds a hand out, asking you again, “Wanna get outta here?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

…

Like some horny teenagers who had just gotten off prom, you find yourselves hand-in-hand running through endless corridors, leaving trails of giggles and sand past concerned staff and other guests on your way to your hotel room.

You try your hardest to brush off your pseudo-savior's eagerness while still in public. But with the way he keeps kissing the back of your hand and persists on planting kisses atop your shoulder every time anything blocks your way, you can’t help the lewd sounds that escape your lips.

The knowing looks that come your way don’t help either, not when Atsumu is just keen on trying you in every torturous way possible as some form of pre-foreplay.

Atsumu is ruthless even as you enter the elevator that had a family and a few other guests on board. He leads you to the back in his half-hearted attempt to be discreet.

Still a couple floors away, he passes the time by snaking both hands around your waist, pressing you up against his chest. As if timed right at the ding of the elevator, you feel two fingers pinch your ass, making your breath hitch a tiny squeak, forcing you to cover your mouth, and it takes everything in you not to take him on then and there.

“Atsumu, stop,” quietly, you plead, chuckling between syllables.

Ding, the elevator goes again, and for revenge, you grind your ass against his crotch.

“Mm,” he hums, chuckling low and breathy at the sudden wave of pleasure forcing him to dig his fingers into your waist.

“There are children in here,” one snarky lady comments as she tries to cover her children’s ears.

“Don’t worry. When they grow up, they’ll understand—”

“Atsumu!” You cover your mouth instantly in a futile attempt to stifle your laughter, earning daggers of stares from everyone else on the elevator.

The elevator dings one more time as the screen flashes your floor number, signalling your stop.

“Sorry!” You yell out when the doors are about to close with Atsumu dragging you to your feet, looking back to the unforgiving looks from the people left at the elevator.

…

“What’s taking so long, ___?” Atsumu whines.

“Shut up, I’m looking okay?”

You scramble through your tiny purse, cursing and wondering why your keys are never where you need them to be.

“Take any longer and I wouldn’t think twice to have you right here.”

“You’re not helping— found it!”

Atsumu stands right behind you as you fiddle with your keys. You can feel his impatience growing and pressing against you as he parts your hair to one side, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on your jaw, down to the crook of your neck.

You suppose it’s the excitement in the air, where love and love-making are to be expected — the culprit behind why Atsumu just couldn’t wait to kiss you until you’re at least inside your room, where you’re hidden from the security cameras. It’s that or the party really must’ve sucked. In the heat of the moment, you kiss him back, hands roaming every which way, from his silky locks down to his biceps that feel so taut underneath your palms. You wonder if you’re probably putting on a good show for the people behind the cameras.

You enter your room after what felt like hours. Atsumu grabs your hand, interlocking with your fingers as he leads you to your bed. Mouths still latched onto each other’s, the need to be rid of clothes becomes urgent to say the least.

Shoes kicked off, and scarf discarded, he sits on the edge and you straddle him as you unbutton his shirt. The second you pull out, calloused fingers snake around the back of your head, and without an ounce of care, Atsumu pulls you back in, crashing his mouth onto yours.

“Sweets, you taste like heaven,” he says, moving on to trail your neck with kisses.

He runs his hands over your thighs, giving them a tight squeeze before he attempts to undress you. He attempts to tug at the zipper of your dress but it doesn’t budge.

”You’re hopeless,” you tease, playfully punching his chest. “Let me help you”

“I’d offer to rip it off but really, I just wanted to watch you strip.” He props his hands behind him, smirking as he chews on the inside of his bottom lip, eyes glistening with anticipation as he watches you get out of your dress. You take off both straps, letting your dress fall to the ground.

“Hh-ooly fuck,” he whistles, chest emptying out the chunk of breath he held back, pupils blown out as he takes the sight of your exposed top. His eyes are dead glued to your figure. With labored breaths, he slowly cups his aching bulge a few times before swiftly unbuckling his belt with one hand, head of his cock creating a dent on his boxers when he unbuttons his pants.

“My turn,” he coos, throwing his pants and shirt aside, revealing a rock hard build that could only belong to a sculpture of a Greek god. His breaths grow heavier the second he takes his cock out of his boxers, you gulp at the size of his girth alone, never mind the length you’re sure you’re not going to be able to take. His chuckles are low and carnal, ones that can’t wait to devour you.

He knows that look on your face. It’s one he’s so used to seeing upon showing his former lovers and fuck buddies his full and hard cock for the first time. The hollow of his palm gathers the slick from the tip. “Fuck, ____. The things I can’t wait to do to you.” He grunts while his fingers play with his foreskin, afterwards smearing pre-cum across his hard length.

With one hand slowly pumping his cock, he reaches for you with his free hand, drawing you back to him with your knees on either side of him, his free hand caressing your sides.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he utters and you feel his soft hair brush over your collarbone as he plants a kiss on your breast. He moves his mouth south of your nipple, tongue flicking the bud before capturing it in his mouth. He releases with a pop, alternating between licking and sucking on your supple flesh.

”Atsumu,” you mutter his name, fingers brushing through his silky locks while he’s in your embrace, clothed cunt lightly rubbing on the tip of his cock, “please,” you murmur.

”Hm? Can’t hear you,” he hums, teeth sinking into your tit as his tongue plays with your nipple, not having had his fill with them yet. He knows full well what you need with his fingers tracing along the hems of your underwear.

“F-fuck!” you cry from the sudden burning sensation on your ass down to your cunt, holding onto him for dear life as you try to grind against the much-needed friction, and you realize he’d pulled a fistful of your underwear from behind you.

“God, you’re so pretty. Even the sounds you make are so pretty.” He tightens his grip on your panties, running his free fingers between your spilled labias.

“You weren’t lyin’ about getting wet after all, were you, sweets?”

“S-stop teasing, Atsumu—fuck!” He parts your underwear and runs a finger through your slippery folds. “Mmf,” you mewl when he pinches your clit, teasing your sensitive bud, your body practically melting into his touch, nails digging into his shoulders.

“I’m just stating the obvious, ___. You’re so wet, it’s so cute. So eager. So fucking ready for me.”

“You fucking idi—ahh!” Atsumu relentlessly pumps his middle and ring finger into your wet hole, his thumb drawing fast slimy circles onto your clit, making you collapse onto him as he fucks you with his fingers.

“You want my cock? Say it. Say you want my cock. Beg for it sweets. I want to hear you say it. C’mon, say it.”

“P-please… your cock… Atsummff— hha!!” You whimper, head bowed, forehead leaning on his shoulder. You’re losing rhyme and reason as you mount his hand, hips bucking onto his touch riding your first orgasm, all while Atsumu peppers your shoulder blade with kisses.

“You’re so fucking cute, wanna hear you cummin’ all night long.”

Before you could shoot back a response, his mouth is on yours again, kissing you fervently with his tongue battling against yours. You moan into his mouth as he rubs now-menacingly slow circles on your sensitive bud, letting out a whimper when he slides two digits again inside you, exploring your velvet walls.

“Please, please, please, ‘Tsumu,” pressing your forehead against his, you purr, making Atsumu curl his fingers inside you.

He lets out a soft breathy chuckle. You could tell he’s pleased with himself, toying at you who has already come undone with just his fingers.

He hooks his hands under your thighs, fingers digging in your skin as he lifts you, gently laying you down on your bed.

His brown eyes are fixed on yours while he removes your underwear, making your breath hitch at your full exposure. His head tilts, looking at your puffy cunt with such hunger in his gaze. He lines himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock accidentally rubbing against your clit, and he doesn’t miss the way your mouth instantly formed an ‘o’.

And for the last time, “Atsumu, please. I need you,” you beg.

“So fucking pretty.” He shoots you a smirk before wrapping your legs around his waist, fully thrusting all of his length inside you, not giving you time to adjust at all. Luckily, your own juices help with the stretch as he pounds into you on all fours.

”Ah—god, Atsumu!” your eyebrows furrow as you cry out in pleasure. To stifle your moans, you bite onto your thumb, but that seems to do something to Atsumu, his gaze and pace both turning into something more animalistic.

”Fuck, keep doin’ that and I’ll be done in a matter of seconds,” his clicks his tongue and you feel him twitch inside you.

Wanting this to last as long as possible, you obey him, clutching onto the sheets instead. But at the rate he’s going, you can’t help but arch into him as you feel yourself nearing your climax once more.

“So glad we left the party,” you mumble to which Atsumu laughs. “Fuck yeah.”

Your breaths are getting shorter and you start to feel tears pricking your eyes. ”I’m almost- almost there- a-almost-“ Your eyes close shut, head craning back subconsciously as you await your orgasm.

”No, no. Fuck. Look at me, I wanna see your pretty face,” he demands as he continues to pound into you. You follow his command despite your self-consciousness over your unravelling expression, but a bolt of heat shoots down your stomach so hot, it stifles any complaint that could come from your mouth.

”Perfect,” he says as he clasps his calloused hands on yours, forcing you to let go of the sheets.

His strides have gone uneven at this point and you wrap your legs tighter around him, waiting to hit your peak for the nth time. Open mouthed and breath hitching, you force yourself to look at him while your insides clenches around his throbbing cock. You’re trembling in your high as he slams one more time into you — grunting in his own release before plopping on top of you.

“Damn,” you breathe out.

Clearing your throat, you lightly urge him to shuffle from his position.

“Damn,” he says back, leaving you a chaste kiss on your cheek, and for some reason, that makes your heart skip a beat in a different way compared to the intimate exchange you just had.

It doesn't miss you that he’s still in you, hard. He lays on his side after he exits you, and you bring your leg around so that he’s spooning you. You jolt back when you feel him sliding his cock back in from behind you, but the stretch is one you welcome, too tired to even complain about all the cum he’s squeezing out of you.

”You’re not gonna look me up three months later asking for support aren't ya?” he pants.

”You seriously only thought to ask that only now?”

He laughs sheepishly and you add, ”Don’t worry, we’re good.”

“How’d you end up going to the ceremony anyway? Big occasions don't seem like your type.”

“You — you’re not just trying to make small talk, are you?” you tease as Atsumu fiddles with your breast. Even during pillowtalk, he’s quite on brand as the tits kind of guy.

“Darling, it’s called ‘getting to know you’,” he retorts, squeezing your tit.

“I just like the beach,” you say plainly, slightly taken aback by the sudden interrogation. “And how are you related to the groom?”

“We’re cousins. But he’s closer to my twin than me.”

Looking over your shoulder, “you’re a twin?!”

Your insides suddenly twitch at your discovery, making him jolt forward “Careful there!” he grunts, warning you as he wraps an arm around your waist.

“Same undercut, dark hair. That’s right, I saw him too. How did I not see you were twins?!”

You feel the grumble of his chest while he chuckles, feeling hints of exhaustion in his laughter while he’s pressed up against your back. He kisses your shoulder, feeling his weight on you as he leans into you even more. “You musta’ just been looking at the right sort,” he replies cheekily, hand latched onto your breast again.

“By ‘right’, you mean you?”

“Yeah? You seemed to think so when you were screaming my name two minutes ago.”

”I’m just saying. I wouldn't know if you're the better twin. Just ‘cause—”

“What’s that?” He brings a hand over to your clit, viciously rubbing your sensitive bud, making your hips shake. He’s banking on your overstimulation from your multiple orgasms, obviously unwilling to let you finish whatever it is you were gonna say.

“What is it?”

“Nothingfff— I—”

“I what?”

“Feel so good, d-don’t stop—fuck!”

He lifts you by your waist so that you’re on all fours, fingers still stroking your clit. It doesn't take much until he’s thrusting into you again. This time, you grab hold of the headboard as he moves one hand to cup your breast and another on your back, keeping you just where he wants you.

The ram of his hips against your as is a mix of sticky and slippery, sticky where his cum began to dry out seconds ago. He pounds into you harder this time, apparently unhappy with your supposed comparison.

“‘Tsumuuuu,” you purr. If a while ago you were merely oriented with the stretch of his cock, now it’s something so familiar you’re sure no other cock can quite fit like a glove compared to his. And you suddenly remember that you had practically just met this person and yet he’s already balls deep into you for the second time today.

The sound of his rock hard thighs ramming onto your ass sends your insides coiling. Still slightly sticky from the cum that hasn’t fully dried out, your clit sticks onto the base of his cock before he fully exits and pounds into you again. Cunt gummy, slimy, and stuffed all at once, a bolt of heat from your stomach shoots down to your center making you scream in pleasure.

He squeezes your tit one last time before bringing his hand to rub circles on your clit. Once more, you arch your back, whimpering as you get off from your high. Pretty soon, he’s coming off from his own high, stuffing you full of his hot and thick seed.

“Just so ya know, I forgive you. Clearly, you weren't thinkin’ straight a while ago,” he says and you could almost hear the smirk in his face by how he said it. He plops back down on the bed, pulling you close to his sweaty, panting body.

“You are so full of it,” you sneer.

He pulls you in tighter before asking, “so, 8 PM tomorrow?”

“Deal.”

#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #atsumu miya #[ ! ] bridesmaid series #[ ! ] something blue #!atsumu #!love letters #꩜— interstellar communications

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firestorm09890 · 2 days

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there's a part of canto vi I've been thinking about since it came out, and it doesn't actually have anything to do with Heathcliff.

this

She is bitter as fuck and as time goes on she's getting worse at keeping it down. Sinclair's the one who started it, by talking about how sad it is that they'd never get to see color, and Rodya starts to get a little irritated over it (yeah, sure, pity the Backstreets folk and their poor miserable little lives, privileged nest boy), but she's obviously trying not to straight up call Sinclair a privileged nest boy because she doesn't want to. But then Yi Sang and Ishmael join in on talking about how sad this place is with no color and she just can't keep her opinion down.

But that makes the atmosphere tense, and she hates a tense atmosphere, so she changes the subject and her tone, not giving a damn about how obvious it is. also, haha, ice and cold references.

And actually, this doesn't really have much evidence to support it, but I wonder if she holds a higher level of resentment for Sinclair in particular.

Canto II had some discussion about how Rodya wishes she was special (and while I think what Sonya said about her killing the tax collector just to feel special is absolute bullshit, I do also think there is some truth to her wanting to feel special), and introduced us to the concept of The Sign in a way that was vague and more like foreshadowing than actually introducing it. Then Canto III was all about The Sign, and how special Sinclair is, and since then we've had people talking about signs and stars and a new birth of the world and it's all stuff Rodya doesn't get to be part of.

I don't think she wants to hold resentment for Sinclair, and she especially never wants him to know, but going back after all this time and rereading this one interaction with him in Canto II felt pretty jarring.

the more important part of this is the way it feels like she's making a joke at Heathcliff's expense, for being poor, like even though she's also from the Backstreets she feels she's "above" it.

She absolutely does not feel this way.

On my way to find the first passage, I reread some other interesting stuff:

Once again, there's the harsh juxtaposition between casual, fun-loving Rodya, and tired, poor man's advocate Rodya. Almost everyone on the team speaks through the lens of a Nest dweller (I have to wonder if learning that Heathcliff was apparently raised in a mansion made her even more bitter), and the way she's so short with her mention of the Sweepers makes me think she's thinking about how painfully obvious it would have been to any other Backstreets dweller. And then, right after, dropping back into her casual voice, and Sinclair revealing that Rodya used the fucked up Backstreets creature to tease him...

Other obvious moments of Rodya being bitter as hell about rich people include this part of S.E.A.

and this part of her observation logs on Spiral of Contempt (actually, nearly everything in that log that isn't about the physical abnormality has to do with how much she hates how rich people look down upon the poor)

Hong Lu's canto comes after Don's, and then after his is Ryōshū's, who, based on her source material, probably served one of the most awful, contemptuous rich people the sinners have access to, and I really hope at some point here Rodya gets to snap in a big way

...hey so I wrote this entire post at 1 in the morning and then saved it to drafts because I didn't want to post something at 1 in the morning. the Timekilling Time trailer came out about two hours later, featuring both Rodya... and the long-awaited return of the Yurodiviye. so now it's past 3 in the morning for me but I'm posting it now anyway because ohohoho seeing the Yurodiviye again has given me SO much energy

I have a feeling all this is going to be very relevant extremely soon

#limbus company #project moon #rodion #rodion lcb #lcb rodion #she's not even in my top 3 favorite sinners but she's so interesting to me #similar to lexaeus kingdomhearts except unlike him I know project moon are actually cooking something with rodya #rest in peace background character king #me post

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kathaynesart · 2 days

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Bit of a random question, but as a teen I'm curious, what would you want to say to kids of today? Any advice?

Hm... every person's life journey is different, but I don't mind giving a few tips based on my personal experiences! If they can help in anyway then I am glad for it!

Ted Talk below the cut.

Life will always change. YOU will change. You may feel stuck or trapped in some aspect of your life right now and are worried that things will never get better. But they do... it will take time, but you will get there so long as you keep moving forward.

Try not to stress too much. All those things that seem like such a big deal right now... most of them will be forgotten within a few years. So it helps when you feel overwhelmed to step back and not let these little (or even big) missteps take control of your life.

No really, go touch grass. I can not express how important it is to disconnect from social media and just be present in the moment. Going out to a cafe or a park to help you unwind and ground yourself. If life allows, try traveling! Even if it's just a road trip. Get out and see and experience different things because those will be the memories that will stick with you!

Change things up. Even if that's just taking a different path to school or trying a different snack. I find that stepping away from the mundane daily schedule helps bring so much more variety to my life and helps me be more present in the moment.

Be flexible. Especially in your goals and expectations. We're expected at such a young age to choose our destination in life, when it's the journey itself that we should be seeking. So while it's great to have goals, do not make them so rigid that you will deem yourself a failure should they not come to pass. Often times it's the things that surprise us in life that help lead us to opportunities we had never even considered.

Your worth does not come from what you produce, or how many milestones you hit, or how much money you make. It is something you give yourself as you relearn time and time again to love yourself.

Your health is important! It is something we often take for granted when we’re younger but it will mean so much as you age. Also should you feel that you’re ever in pain or unwell, speak up. There are so many instances of people coming to greater harm because they only listened to the first doctor who brushed them off. Seek a second opinion. Know that your body is worth proper care!

Just because you have to grow old does not mean you have to "grow up." Those things you loved that sparked joy in you as a kid? Hold onto them or find new ways to instill them into your life. Keep that passion and remember what fun is! Because you will need it just as much when you're older. It is a major ingredient in the spice of life.

Remember, you ARE special. You may not feel like it... but the fact that you exist is such a mind boggling feat in this vast universe of mostly empty space. While that may be difficult to grasp as we are, stuffed in this tiny jewelry box we call Earth, that does not make any one of us any less special in the grand scheme of things. And in this tiny but overflowing box of treasures, there is no gem that is quite like you. You managed against all odds to come into existence. That is AMAZING. Congratulations! Hard part is already done. Now go shine!

#ted talk #Kat talk?#important note though! Age does not always equal wisdom! I'm still figuring it out as I go too haha #but if it helps even one person then it will be worth it!#q&a #life advice #from a little old girl #sorry anon it took so long for me to respond #life has been busy

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humdrummoloch · 2 days

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Here's an exercise to apply to your story: pick any scene and build up its stakes.

Most scenes should have at least a tiny bit of tension. Not every scene has to drip with artificial melodrama, but if the audience doesn't see a good reason to care about what's happening, they probably won't.

Using this 3-part exercise I just made up, just with a few quick bullet lists, you can dissect that scene's stakes and make them mean something.

PART 1: THE TELLING

Take a moment to focus on the stakes in your scene. What's the worst that could happen? List them.

Here's the rule: if a stake is obvious, don't count it.

Wrong: "If he kills me, I die."

Wrong: "If the villain fails to get the artefact, he fails."

Wrong: "If I lose this match, I lose."

Sure, yeah. But what ELSE?

Correct: "If I die, there'll be no one to protect my family."

Correct: "If I don't get this magical artefact before the hero stops me, my plans to take over the world will be sabotaged."

Correct: "If I lose this match, I'll never make it to the championships and show the world what I can do."

The stronger these stakes are, the better (within reason). "So-and-so might die" isn't a compelling (as it could be) narrative stake even in stories where people do die.

Even in low-stakes stories, the characters care about those low stakes. If it's important to them that they impress that client or get that job, tell us WHY they care. Is it their lifelong dream, or the promise they made to their dying mother, or the job that'll take them away from a horrible living situation? Will failure embarrass them in front of their crush?

PART 2: THE SHOWING

Now you know what could go bad, let the audience feel it. Just take things that matter and tweak them so that they're tangible.

"If I don't join the fight, my friend might die!" -> Show us an enemy raising a sword about to strike their friend down if the character doesn't rush in to save them NOW.

"If I drop out, I'll be a bad daughter!" -> Show us her parents bragging about their kid's academic performance and telling her they're happy they have a good kid with a bright future instead of some "no-good delinquent."

"If I don't pay by next week the bank's gonna take our house!" -> Show us the character begging for just a few more days, show their reaction to overhearing someone talking about buying the house from the bank to bulldoze the property. Show what the house means to them and how they made it their home.

PART 3: THE HAPPENING

Remember, a bullet seems a whole lot deadlier when it doesn't literally miss every time. But it would be strange if every scifi involved the whole planet blowing up, right? Or if the main characters all died? So, you have to show us you're not kidding by employing a secret third thing. Here's the trick to this: divide up the stakes into pieces and make one of the pieces happen.

If the protag's team is in actual danger, just one of them can die. Maybe even someone "essential" -- the climax will be boosted from the team overcoming this setback, the story becoming more clutch and unpredictable to the audience.

A marriage on the rocks? Show that their previously happy kid is suddenly hiding things from them and failing in school.

The city in danger? Show us buildings being knocked over.

Hell, the protag themselves in danger? They've got a leg they might not be using.

If a stake can't be split down like this, it might be better to have the bulldozers show up at the house during the climax. Maybe even let the house fall.

After this exercise, your scene should now feel a whole lot more weighty, whether it's a job application or a final battle to the death. Again, not every scene needs tension and it can go too far and become silly, but I hope this exercise helps you the way it helps me.

#creative writing #writing tips #stakes #writing exercise #advice #storytelling

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violent138 · 2 days

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Hal: "So what's the most important thing in that thing anyway?" *gestures at utility belt*

Clark: "Rebreather. Never know when you might need it."

Barry: "Come on, it's gotta be the kryptonite ring."

Bruce: "No. It--"

Oliver: "The lifetime supply of Batarangs. Or lip balm."

Bruce: *rummaging through belt*

Diana: "The grapple gun, I've seen you reach for it repeatedly."

Arthur, grinning: "Shark repellent."

Oliver: "I'm telling you, it's an extra mask."

Bruce: "You're all wrong." *pulls out assortment of snacks*

Oliver: "Makes sense."

Clark: "Are these special in some way? I think I've seen them at my grocery store."

Barry: *eats one* "Tastes the same."

Diana: *opens it like she's opening a bomb* "Perhaps it's a slow acting poison."

Barry: *chokes as Clark immediately starts hitting his back*

Hal: "You're messing with us aren't you?"

Bruce: "If I wanted to mess with you, I'd let you train with one of the Robins when they're hypoglycemic."

#jla #Text post #Batposting #batman #dc comics #bruce wayne #Clark Kent #Superman #oliver queen #Green arrow #barry allen #The flash #diana prince #Wonder woman #Hal Jordan #green lantern #Sorry I found this funny #You might not lol #justice league

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andhumanslovedstories · 3 days

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I’ve been struggling lately with the feeling that my job is pointless. Intellectually I know it is not—nursing is one of those professions where you get to be real smug about knowing the value of your work. But it’s still felt very pointless. Like I’ll start a shift thinking, “what am I even doing here,” and end it thinking, “what have I actually even done.” It’s been a ROUGH couple months.

But I had a really good shift last time I worked, which was good for the soul and also a very useful data point. I got to do pain management advocacy and symptom management, met a bunch of cool patients, did education for new nurses, and had several long heart to hearts, which the kind of midnight heart to hearts that I think are the most important part of night shift, all of that while being well staffed with very pleasant and appreciative patients and coworkers, and I was still like. Pretty depressed. I had a sense of satisfaction and moments of joy and meaning, but it turns out that one good shift did not cure the depression that has been latched on to me for the last few months like some kind of fucked up mental health leech. As I realized I was still depressed and that it was still interfering with my life even when everything was going well, the sense of peace washed over me was the best I’d felt in a while. Because I was like, okay! None of my usual stuff as worked! I have no excuse not to try something new to get my brain out of the shit ditch it’s slipped into.

So I’m applying for short-term disability. I’m worried I won’t get it, and I’m not sure what the next step is if I get rejected, but I feel so much better having decided to pursue it. It’s so much fuckin paperwork for sure, to a degree that’s overwhelming except that that the form could be a checkbox that says, “you want money?” and I’d be like “THIS IS TOO MUCH.” I’m totally not writing this post instead of finishing an email to my manager. I’m definitely not writing this post to avoid dealing with coordinating all my various care providers. I’m certainly not at every moment worried that I’m secretly faking all this so I can get three to nine weeks of a cool summer vacation.

I was thinking about how I almost flunked nursing school in my final semester because I turned in assignments late for a class with a “no late homework” policy. The professor said that this was reflective of real life, where if you miss deadlines you’re just fucked. I ended up appealing my grade and passing, because frankly it was a weak reason for making me repeat a final semester when there was no issues with my actual work or knowledge. During my appeal, I was like “I also think this policy is ableist. Harsh penalties for late work hurt students with health problems, especially chronic health problems when you aren’t asking for one week off due to the flu but instead for a general and never ending flexibility. I’m not trying to make an excuse but explain why this policy is a bad one. Disabled healthcare workers are an asset to healthcare.” I’m trying to remember my own argument as I pursue help. My depression and ADHD and eating disorder do help me be a better nurse, not because like depression gives you superpowers, but because I manage my chronic illnesses every day, in ways that range from hardly noticeable to life or death. Being kind to patients means being kind to myself, and vice versa.

I’m rambling. I really do not want to do this paperwork or send these emails. And I’m not sure if I deserve the leave I’m trying to take. But I miss being love with my job. I miss enjoying it. I wouldn’t judge someone else for going on medical leave, and my job doesn’t want me to burn out or quit. It almost feels like I have to be skeptical of applying for leave because no one else is. Everyone I’ve spoken to has been very supportive, including my manager. And considering how many unpaid days off I’ve had to take lately, disability leave would be an improvement over some of my recent paychecks. All in all, short-term disability makes sense and seems like a reasonable response to circumstances. But FUCK. I wish it required like 90 percent less documentation.

#nursing tag

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hyuckwrlds · 2 days

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>> little light

wc: 635 happy birthday haechan

Haechan’s alarm is a blaring, obnoxious sound. It’s shrill and annoying and echoes off the walls of his bedroom, almost always waking you up before him. That’s why it’s a wonder that he’s able to sleep through it so soundly, face nuzzled blissfully into your hair as if his alarm was set to the sound of angels serenading him instead.

In retrospect, his alarm rarely does its job of waking him up. For some reason, it always has to be you.

“Haechan,” you mumble, patting lazily at the arm slung across your body. You don’t have to open your eyes to know he’s still asleep.

You pat him again. “Baby, your alarm.”

Somewhere behind you, you feel him stir, but he has yet to silence his phone. Instead, he only mutters something you can’t catch. You squint open your eyes to the faint light of sunrise seeping in through the window.

“Haechan,” you repeat, turning around in his hold. With the tip of your nose, you nudge him by the collar of his old teddy bear t-shirt. It had been your birthday gift to him some years ago but is now worn to the point where the print is beginning to fade. And despite all the shirts you’ve gotten him since then, none of them have ever been as loved as this one.

“Sorry,” he eventually replies, reaching over you to grab his phone sitting on the bedside table. Once the room settles back into silence, he resumes his original position, albeit holding you a little tighter under the sheets.

“Aren’t you supposed to be meeting with Chenle?” you ask sleepily, ducking your head beneath his chin.

You hear him stifle back a yawn. “He can wait.”

“I think we both know that he can’t,” you tease, reveling in the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Somewhere above you he snorts. “Well, he’s gonna have to. This is more important.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead and your heart swells with warmth. Even though this is how most mornings start when you two are together, you can’t help but be selfish for a little bit, indulging in his love for just a minute or two longer.

You’d never tell him but he’s right. Maybe nothing else matters when he’s by your side. But for now—

“Baby,” you start again. “You should get up.”

For now, you’d rather not be at the opposite end of Chenle’s annoyance.

Haechan takes a heavy breath before loosening his grip on you. “Fine. Hold on. Lemme just—”

He shifts back a little until you’re able to get a clear view of his face. He stares at you, with his messy hair and constellations of moles dotting his cheeks. You fight back the smile pulling at your lips. He’s just that cute.

You raise a brow. “Just what?”

“Let me look at you,” he says softly, smiling into the words.

There’s a roll of your eyes. “You look at me all the time.”

“Not like this.”

“What’s different this time?”

“Nothing,” he says before shrugging. “Everything.”

Sure, it’s a vague answer but with the way he looks at you, you’re certain you already know what he means. It’s not unlike the times when you’re out with friends and his gaze meets yours across the room—searching for the comfort of nothing other than knowing you’re there. The same rings true this morning.

Because despite his stupid alarm and the cracking print of his old t-shirt, everything is right. In this moment, it’s only you and him, and he’ll be damned if he lets Chenle get in the way of that.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he greets, running a hand along the side of your face.

You take his hand in yours, smiling over at him. “Good morning, Haechan. I love you.”

#not sure how i feel abt this one #but i wanted to get something out for his bday #haechan #haechan x reader #nct fluff #haechan fluff #nct x reader #haechan imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 fluff #haechan scenarios #hyuckwrlds

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ahqkas · 2 days

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A funny little request of gf!reader who had a lot of brothers so she always had gotten into play fights with them. Soon into the future mattheo challenged her to an arm wrestle only to be completely stumped at her beating him.

STRONGER THAN ALL MY MEN ; mattheo riddle

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

GROWING UP IN A HOUSE FULL OF BROTHERS, YOU HAD ALWAYS BEEN BROUGHT INTO A WORLD OF PLAYFUL ROUGHHOUSING AND FRIENDLY COMPETITIONS. You were no stranger to the feel of a playful punch, the exhilaration of a well-executed tackle, or the strategic maneuvering needed to win an important wrestling match. It was in this home that you had gotten your strength and resilience, learning to hold your own and even come out on top more often than not. Your brothers had instilled in you a sense of fierce competitiveness, one that you carried into every aspect of your life.

So when Mattheo, with his cocky grin and challenging eyes, proposed an arm-wrestling match, you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. You had grown to love Mattheo's confidence and his restless spirit, but this was an arena where you felt particularly confident. You accepted his challenge with a smirk, a glint of determination in your eyes.

The two of you found a sturdy table in the common room, drawing the curious gazes of a few fellow students. Mattheo rolled up his sleeves, exposing his muscular forearms, and settled into his chair, his expression one of easy confidence. You took your seat opposite him, rolling up your own sleeves and revealing arms that, while not as bulky, were lean and defined from years of spirited competition with your brothers.

"Ready to be beaten by a girl?" you teased, arching an eyebrow as you clasped his hand.

"We'll see about that," Mattheo shot back, his grin widening. His eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was also a flicker of genuine curiosity. He was used to being strong, to winning physical fights with ease. The thought of you beating him was both surprising and strangely thrilling.

Lorenzo, who had been observing the scene from a distance, decided to take on the role of referee. With a dramatic flourish, he placed his hands on top of yours and Mattheo's clasped hands, looking between the two of you with a twinkle in his eye. "On my count," he announced. "Three, two, one . . . go!"

The initial push was intense. Mattheo's strength was evident, his muscles tensing as he applied pressure. But you met his force with equal determination, your grip steady and your arm unwavering. The crowd around you leaned in, eyes wide with anticipation.

As the seconds ticked by, it became clear that this was not going to be an easy win for Mattheo. His brow furrowed in concentration, a bead of sweat forming at his temple. You could feel his surprise through the subtle shifts in his grip, the way his eyes flicked to yours, searching for some sign of strain. But you held his gaze steadily, your arm a pillar of strength.

Gradually, you began to gain the upper hand. It was a slow, inexorable push, your arm moving inch by inch as you leveraged the years of playful battles with your brothers. The crowd around you erupted in cheers and gasps as you edged closer to victory. Mattheo's expression shifted from confident to incredulous, then to something close to admiration.

With one final, decisive push, you slammed his hand down onto the table. The room exploded in applause and laughter, the sound reverberating off the stone walls. Mattheo stared at his defeated hand for a moment, then looked up at you with a mixture of shock and respect.

"You . . . you actually beat me," he said, a grin breaking across his face.

"I told you," you replied, your own grin widening. "Growing up with a bunch of brothers has its advantages."

Mattheo shook his head, still smiling. "You're incredible, you know that?"

You shrugged playfully, though you couldn't hide the pride in your eyes. "Just don't forget it next time you decide to challenge me."

He reached across the table and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I won't. And I have to admit, I kind of like this side of you."

As the crowd began to disperse, leaving the two of you alone at the table, you felt a warmth spread through you. It wasn't just the victory that made you feel good; it was the way Mattheo looked at you, with genuine admiration and love.

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writtenbymoonflower · 3 days

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Could I request a poly!marauders comforting a close friend(possibly someone they have feelings for but she was dating someone else.) Just broke up with my boyfriend tonight; he wasn't honest about something vitally important and things just weren't work out out before he even came clean and I feel sick and just need comfort. Please and thank you.

hi baby! i'm so sorry about your breakup. i know there's nothing i can say to make it easier, but i hope this helps. please take it easy on yourself, and my dms are open if you need anything <3 poly!marauders x fem!reader (romantic if you squint)

cw: mentions of drinking, breakups, swearing

880 words

In your defense, when you had initially made the call you didn’t expect all this fuss. Your intention was to kindly let your friends know that you didn’t feel up to going out that night due to your unexpected heartbreak. If you had known that your call would result in two bottles of rose, a gallon of moose-tracks frozen custard, and three borderline sickeningly benevolent boys infiltrating your house, you probably would’ve gone with a vague text. Even so, you couldn’t deny that deep down, you were grateful.

However, sobbing into the sleeves of your borrowed sweater, with a Disney movie playing in the background while you were periodically fed bites of ice cream and sips of wine was a level of vulnerability you did not expect to reach with your friends.

Every time you thought your sobs had subsided, another wave welled up inside you. You sniffled miserably, pinching your irritated nose clean. Your hands were batted away.

“Gentle, sweetheart. Your poor face is already rubbed raw.” James kindly scolded you. You nodded, the movement making you feel more lightheaded than before. You were handed a glass of water, not the wine you were hoping for but you still took it. After taking a few sips you set it down, feeling the tears welling into your eyes again. Remus tugged you into his side, letting you nuzzle your face into his soft sweater.

“Babe, I’m not sure that prick is worth this amount of tears.” Sirius’ tone was sweet, if not a little venomous. He was still cuffed on the back of the head by Remus.

“Tact, pads. Have some tact.” Remus huffed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Cry as much as you need to, dove.”

Strangely, now your tears had stopped. You sat up, though Remus still held onto you.

“You wanna talk, now lovely girl? Or do you want to be distracted?” James held you from your other side, brushing your damp hair out of your face.

“I don’t think I have coherent thoughts right now.” You tried to joke but your tone just came out pitiful.

“That’s okay.” Remus said, thoughtfully. “Just say what's going through your head. This is for you, dovey. It doesn’t have to make perfect sense to us, we just want to be here for you.”

You nodded, more gently this time, and took a deep breath. “I’m just-” The lump was still in your throat, making it hard to get the words out. “I’m just so hurt, you know? Like I gave everything. I gave fucking everything to this. To him. And I guess I just thought that he would do the same. And I- I’m just so fucking stupid, because I never expected he would do something like this.” Your face screwed up like you were in pain and you fell back into Remus’ chest, silent sobs shaking your body.

“Oh, baby.” Sirius placed a hand on your leg, rubbing his thumb back-and-forth. They let you cry for the nth time that night, never rushing or scolding you. When your cries slowed again, Sirius spoke up. “I know it hurts, dollface. I know. And I know there is nothing we can say to make it go away.” There was hurt in his voice as he said that. Sirius despised feeling helpless. And emotions were one of the things that made him feel that way the most. He always thought he was shit at comforting people, but in reality, he’s far better than he gives himself credit for.

“Can you look at me, sweet girl?” James leaned over to catch your eyes. You let him. “Listen to me, what he chose to do says nothing, and I mean nothing about you, okay? You are not stupid, or anything of the sort. It says everything about him, that he knew he had your trust and chose to not be deserving of it. Just because he didn’t love you right, doesn’t mean that you were wrong for loving him anyway. So please, don’t ever for a moment, let his bad decisions affect how you see yourself, precious thing.”

His words made you cry all over again, but it was different this time. James pulled you into his lap, cradling you like a baby in his arms.

“Look at what you’ve done, prongs. You’ve broken her all over again.” Sirius said incredulously. For the first time that night, you laughed. It was wet and choked, but it still felt good.

“There you go.” Remus squeezed your calf. “Didn’t quite like seeing you like that.” You nodded.

“I don’t quite like being like that.” You half-laughed. James squeezed you again.

“But if you need to be, we’re here for you, yeah?” Sirius poured you more wine. The other two boys let out loud affirmatives.

“Thank you guys, really. I think I needed this.” You hoped the way you were looking at them showed how grateful you really were.

“Anytime, lovie.” James kissed your cheek. “Now, I think we need a movie yeah? Something silly. Like Sausage Party. Or one of those shitty horror movies that only scares Sirius.” He grinned cheekily.

“Oi! Those are really fucking scary!” Sirius squawked. You rolled your eyes, filled to the brim with affection.

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