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poppy-metal · 2 days

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back on my dilf-next-door!art donaldson-

i just know this man is borderline obsessed with you but it makes him feel like a dirty old man to think it so he keeps it to himself (by that i mean his beats off by the window that lets him see into your house)

and when you finally let him hit he nearly blacks out and he cries a little bit because it’s better than he imagined (every night)

the fact that art is as hot as he has the body that he has looks like that is a good person and a good father and kind and just all his tens and yet. he's the one thankful to you - he's held himself off for so long, i think. he's a lover at his core, a divore would shatter his heart - he'd not be ready to move on for some time and he'd devote all of his time to lily. the possibility of a relationship isn't even a thought in his mind - doesn't even grace the stratosphere of his world. he gives himself so fully to others its hard to have anything left over for himself. he spends years in a monotonous rhythm of spending time with lily, building a life for her thats full, building a home she'll be happy to come to when its his turn to have her - even when hes on his own, hes always working - building something - a new bookshelf for the comics lily is into - gardening - the flowers make him feel at ease and lily likes them - a pool - lily likes to swim. he still treats his body like a machine, up every morning, jogging until his lungs are screaming so loud and his heart is beating so hard he can't think of anything else, cant feel the void in his life. cant let himself feel discontent.

he hardly notices hes built a space to share with someone else until you're there - filling it. he realizes he built a home bigger than himself and lily and he doesn't realize how fucking lonely he was until you've been over at his house and you leave and it just feels wrong to sit in the stillness like that. he finds himself having fantasies when he's in the shower and his hand skims down his stomach, cups his dick - usually its a quick almost clinical affair, a bodily function he needs to release - letting his head thump forward to meet the steamed glass in pleasure. his breath fogging - he lets himself think of you, of your body, your skin and your smile and the way you dress everything everything everything - hes moaning his hand gliding up and down up and down. and he imagines your face nuzzling him, how sweet you'd be - on your knees - he thinks you'd suck and lick around his tip - dip your tongue into his slit. he pulls back his foreskin to release the pink head, rubs his thumb over the rubbery skin as he imagines it - imagines the warmth , imagines sinking into it. when he cums his knees quake. he smiles, breathless and like hes a teenager again, because that was the best fucking orgasm of his life.

so yes hes thankful - so fucking thankful when he gets you to stay the night, when he doesn't have to be alone in an empty fucking house and even worse, go to bed by himself. hes damn near whimpering with relief when he presses you back into his sheets and slots between your thighs and the sigh that rattles from him when his body settles over yours comes deep from his very bones. you touch everywhere and its so fucking good. hes hot and hard and slick, sliding against the crease of your thigh - and you gasp, "art. please - "

and he kisses you quiet - stilling himself as he lifts his hips, nudges his cock against the wet slit of your sex and presses - presses in and in and in and he's the one gasping this time, open and wet against your mouth, not even kissing just panting against your lips.

his head drops to your shoulder, his hips rock, and the moan he lets out sounds wet and soft - like he could cry, like hes on the cusp of it. "its so good." he breathes, mouths at your skin, sucking wetly on it, pulling it into his mouth. his teeth graze and its a pain you like. "you're so tight - oh my god."

you legs rise - the insistent nudge back and forth of his hips against yours spreading you, making you want to let him in even more even though hes so. hes so "oh art, you're so deep." hands gliding up the flexing muscles of his back, locking your ankles above his ass, urging him on. in and in and in in in in in. "it feels g - ood. keep - keep going - keep - oh -"

his moan rumbles from his chest, hes pressed so tight against you hes barely pulling out - your pussy squeezing him, sucking on his cock - you dont want him to leave but - you want it faster - you want it. his lips skim the shell of your ear and you gasp when he wraps a hand under your back, lifting you a little, pressing you impossibly closer, his other hand fits down as well, until both his big palms are under you, cupping your ass, molding you to his dick, rocking you against him back and forth up and down again and again and again. "you dont know," he pants, his voice hard and low like gravel, "how long I've needed this."

needed not wanted.

"have it-" you babble, nearly bouncing against him now. letting him maneuver you how he wants up and down on his cock. "its yours, baby, take it - take it-"

the slap of your bodies starts to echo throughout the room - his fucking becoming needier and and needier - his hands on your ass digging in now, gripping and not cupping, dragging not guiding guiding you against him. punching in and out of your cunt helplessly.

"thank you - thank you, thank you fuck - fuck honey. oh fuck -" he sounds tortured and you slide a hand through his damp blonde curls in comfort. can tell by the way he sounds and the way hes fucking you that hes breaking apart, how much he needed this on a fundamental, animal level. it goes beyond just being horny - he's denied himself this for so long - you're letting the band he's let get stretched thinner and thinner, finally snap. snap with the pound of hips crushing yours into the bed in pounding thrusts of his cock inside you. "I'm gonna cum - tell me - tell me to cum inside you. tell me you want my fucking cum filling your pussy."

"i want it, i want it, i want it."

god, you'd make him a dad again. you tell him so, "get me pregnant. I'll make you a daddy again, art, please - just fill me up -"

"FUCK!" the shout comes deep from his gut. ripped from his lungs and then he's at you like an animal, pummeling his hips and the bed is rocking, rocking so hard you know there will be dent in the wall but you dont care you cant stop moaning his name and begging for his cum and holding him to you like you could meld your limbs together.

so glad that you moved next door.

#ask #frens <3 #horn knee #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #challengers smut #challengers x reader

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atsumou · 3 days

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SFW; fluff, atsumu eats your leftovers but according to him, he has a very good reason why. inspired by my prev post but what i experienced wasn’t anything like this :(. divider: cafekitsune.

── “what part of ‘mine. don’t eat.’ do you not understand?” the question flies right into atsumu’s room the second he opened his door, sharp tone greeting him before he could even fully see your standing figure. genuinely confused, the male furrowed his brows, free hand scratching at the shaved part of his nape. and he has the audacity to look confused, you thought, head tilting to the side as the anger rose within you.

for the past few months, you’ve been roommates with atsumu—he was nothing but polite, and respectful, albeit a little rowdy at times but nothing too unmanageable. that was until two weeks ago where you had stored leftovers in the fridge at night, saving it for tomorrow’s lunch. unlucky for you, it disappeared the next morning. that was fine. okay. swallowing the unpleasant feeling that settled in your chest—maybe atsumu thought it was for him, you blame yourself for not labelling it as yours. a rookie mistake.

the second time it happened, you were beyond speechless. wanting to give atsumu the benefit of the doubt, you concluded it as a coincidence—maybe he was tired from practice, there was nothing else appetising in the fridge except your leftovers. so, again, you let it slide.

the third time, however, it was a pattern without a doubt, and you knew better than to let it slide. having to look forward to something—especially a good meal—only for it to be taken away in an instant was something you wouldn’t even wish on upon your worst enemy. though, your worst enemy was standing right before you, hand behind his head, clueless as hell. maybe you would wish it upon your worst enemy. “hm?” atsumu mirrored the tilt of your head, only spurring your annoyance further.

“my leftovers. i know you’ve been eating them, miya. we’re the only ones who live here.” you pinch the bridge of your nose, eyes screwed shut at his lack of common sense. being angry was one thing, but being both angry and hungry was a whole different discussion. “explain. i went out of my way to put a sticky note to let you know that it was mine yet you still ate it.” atsumu couldn’t help the familiar feeling blossoming in his chest—the one that occurs whenever he was in your presence.

you looked so cute all riled up. the way your brows furrowed, carving lines between your forehead or the way the corners of your lips pointed down, forming a small pout. atsumu didn’t even care that he was on the receiving end of your hangry mood. he gave you a sheepish smile, one that would’ve had your cheeks heating if it wasn’t for the situation at hand, “i’m sorry. .” his two-worded apology hung in the air, waiting to be completed.

so you stood there, arms crossed, eyes boring into his own. atsumu looked away, gaze lingering on the door hinge as if it was the most interesting piece of metal in the world. “i have a valid reason but it’s silly.” he let out an empty chuckle, hand rubbing at his nape. valid reason? what kind of reason did he have to justify him eating your leftovers? ones that you bought with your own money.

atsumu took your silence as a signal to keep going. oh god, now he really wanted the ground to swallow him whole—for the carpet beneath his feet to just split apart and let him fall into nothingness. the more atsumu scoured his mind for the right words, the more he felt like an idiot, embarrassment engulfing his every being. mind you, he wanted this to happen and now that it was playing right before his eyes, he couldn’t help but chicken out.

the sentences laced together in his mind were useless anyway when he blurted out ‘i think you’re cute’ which only deepened the creases between your brows. silence. there was about a good 10-second silence, and during the span of that, atsumu really wished he was swallowed whole. but nope, he had to face the consequences of his stupid actions.

it wasn’t because he was being a dick, no, far from that. ever since atsumu saw you walk through the shared apartment, he felt something foreign—he felt his heart skip a beat, and not in the way it would during intense rallies in a match. all atsumu knew was that he wanted to get to know you better, even if it meant getting your attention in silly little ways—although, annoying might be the better word to describe it on your end.

there was nothing but mutual respect with the bond you two shared but it was also not intimate, and atsumu craved intimacy. you’ve both remained civil ever since living with one another, giving and receiving pleasantries throughout the day, small conversations but nothing too deep. it didn’t help that you weren’t the type to make small talk, only engaging in a conversation with atsumu whenever he initiated.

so, he devised a rather smart (idiotic) plan to gain your undivided attention—to simply put it: eating your leftovers so you would notice him. atsumu mentally noted to give himself a pat on the back for mission accomplished, though, that’d have to come later since he had no backup plan for how to deal with this situation. “that’s it . . ?” he felt small under your judgement, not to mention the amusement in your tone.

atsumu would rather be on the receiving end of sakusa’s spikes than ever admit to you that he’s been craving for your attention like a lovesick puppy with its tailed tucked between its legs. alas, here he was facing the consequences, a crimson blush painted on his cheeks while animatedly explaining in complete detail of why he’s been eating your leftovers. you didn’t know whether to be upset, flattered or both.

upset because out of all ideas, atsumu thought resorting to eating your food was the best candidate. flattered because he thinks you’re cute and have been silently pining for you and your attention. both because of how silly this all sounded—the moment you came knocking on atsumu’s door, you expected a concrete explanation for his actions, not a full blown confession.

you laughed, not because of being upset nor flattered but because of how dumb the situation was. atsumu mirrored your laugh despite the gears turning in his head, trying to find a reason why you were laughing at him. “you know, you could’ve just told me about your feelings in the first place and i would have happily accepted them.” that was atsumu’s first thought but it was too easy for him (no it wasn’t, he doesn’t know how to properly talk to people he pines for.).

later in the evening, after returning from a dinner with your friends, atsumu found a singular takeaway container sitting in the fridge with a little note: for you :P <3

a few hours ago, the food would’ve been labelled as ‘mine’ to deter him from eating it but atsumu has a good assumption that he was the one labelled as yours, this time.

#₊˚ෆ YUE WRITES!#what we will do is find inspiration from the unpleasant occurences of my life #pls dont eat someone else’s food okay #miya atsumu #atsumu imagines #atsumu fluff #atsumu drabbles #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n

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themultifanshipper · 6 hours

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Oscar had blabbed. That’s the only explanation you could come up with at the moment, given the position you found yourself in, kneeling at your friends’ feet.

Warnings: blowjobs, sex, one mention of yolo, and if you don’t like cum, probably don’t read this, it’s filthy (literally), PinV sex at the end

Alex and Logan had been eyeing you up all week. At first, they seemed to be glancing in your direction constantly, head movements catching your attention, but as soon as you’d look back at them they would avert their eyes. Then you noticed that they were staring at you for longer periods of time from across the room, seemingly unaware of what they were doing until they’d snap out of it on their own. But yesterday, that was when you saw their gazes shift into something else. Before they ranged from blank to vaguely curious, but yesterday, they looked hungry. It sent a shiver down your spine the first time. Now you just found it downright confusing, wondering what could have possessed them to start looking at you that way.

That night you were at your best pal Oscar’s place in Monaco, having just given him a congratulatory blowjob for his performance in the race (Oscar always said you were the best he’d ever known at giving head), and you decided to tell him.

“You know, Alex and Logan have been acting real weird lately” you called from the bathroom.

“Yeah? In what way?” he replied, in bed scrolling on his phone.

“Well… at first they just started staring at me, I think unconsciously, but now they’ve started looking at me like they want to eat me or something. ”

‘Shit!’ he thought. You couldn’t see him, but his eyes widened and he immediately started typing out a message to the boys: "what the fuck guys? Stop staring at her it’s weirding her out!"

“What do you mean?” he asked you, managing to keep his voice level.

“I don’t know… like- I’ve only ever seen that look when someone wants to rail me, you know? But it can’t be that, right?” You came out of the bathroom and Oscar turned his phone off a little too quickly, which confused you, but you were too tired to question it at that moment as you crawled into bed and snuggled up to him.

“Nah probably not, maybe you’re imagining things?” he tried, you didn’t bite.

“Absolutely not. We’re flying with them tomorrow, then you can see for yourself.”

The next morning when you woke up, you saw that you’d been added to a three way group chat with the two Williams drivers. You had two messages:

Alex: ‘We need to talk to you, privately”

Logan: ‘It’s nothing too serious tho dw <3’

‘Thank god for Logan’ you thought. Unbeknownst to you, they had been bickering all morning about how to broach the subject.

You would all be meeting at Nice airport to get a jet together so you didn’t have to wait too long for answers.

The four of you were alone on the jet, and when Logan got up to go to the bathroom, you glanced at him and he motioned for you to follow him.

'Okay, here we go' you thought nervously.

He closed the door behind you and you stared at him waiting for him to speak first, but he just stood there fidgeting nervously so you broke the silence.

"So what did you need to talk to me about?"

The room was relatively cramped so you were rather close, closer than you were used to, and you were able to count the freckles that dusted his face as you waited for an answer.

Instead of doing so however, he surged forward and kissed you. Which was confusing, but to be fair you weren’t going to start asking questions, as his lips were softly trailing over your jaw, making you let out a shaky breath.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week” he mumbled into your neck.

Before you even had time to form a response, the door slid open and there stood Alex, with a massive smirk on his face at the sight of you two.

“Started without me Logan? Bastard.”

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, as you stood there, half pressed against the sink by Logan’s hips, and very confused at was on earth was going on.

Alex came and pressed a light kiss to your temple before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Are you okay with this?”

You nodded, not even sure what ‘this’ was but, yolo, as the kids say.

So he plastered his body to your side and turned your head to kiss you, as Logan started trailing downwards, taking the waistband of your joggers with him. He gasped loudly as he very quickly realized you hadn’t put any underwear on underneath. You glanced down and raised an eyebrow at him.

“What? I travel comfy!”

Logan didn’t even hear you as he was already trailing kisses all over your thighs, lifting one of them and hooking it over his shoulder. His fingers spread you as he licked a broad stripe from your perineum to your clit, making you shudder in anticipation.

Alex’s hand on your jaw brought your mouth back to his, and his other hand snuck under your top to play with your breasts, making you keen under his touch.

One of your hands was in Logan’s hair as he lapped up your juices, getting his face soaked in the process, the other was making its way into Alex’s pants to grab hold of his cock, which had been hard ever since he saw you get up to follow Logan to the bathroom.

Your movements were uncoordinated as you were getting closer to orgasm on Logan’s tongue (and fingers that had since joined the party), and when you came, Alex had to put his hand over your mouth to muffle the loud moans that threatened to spill from you.

Logan stood up, a fucked out expression on his face, and licked his lips before grabbing Alex by the hair and crashing their lips together, Alex groaning into his mouth at the taste of you on his tongue.

You took their distraction as an opportunity to get down on your knees and unbuckle Logan’s pants, immediately getting his cock out and licking a long stripe form base to tip.

That made him shudder and he moaned into Alex’s mouth, the two of them still going at it, so you took him deeper and deeper, alternating expertly between breathing through your nose and swallowing, and you took Alex out of his pants to start stroking him at the same pace.

It eventually got too intense for poor Logan as he grabbed your hair and pulled you off him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come too fast if you keep going like that.”

Alex grinned at him, then down at you. “You really are the best then, yeah?”

Your brain didn’t even register the implications behind that statement as you took Alex into your mouth, down to the base in one go, as if to say ‘see for yourself’.

You alternated between the two of them, getting them to the edge before pulling off to breath properly before switching. At some point they had started kissing again, groaning into each other’s mouths and running their hands through each other’s hair.

Then, without warning, the door opened and there stood Oscar, smug as anything.

“Well well well, what’s all this then?”

The image of George briefly flashed in your collective minds.

You pulled off with an obscene pop and looked up at the other two boys.

What sight the three of you made, you on the floor with tears running down your cheeks, Alex and Logan flushed and messy, hair sticking up and looking fucked out, with their cocks out.

That’s when it all clicked. The looks, Oscar’s avoidance, this whole mess in the bathroom.

Oscar must have blabbed about your activities to them.

You turned to the man in question.

“Did you plan this?!”

He laughed. “No one could have planned this. But I did mention to them how good you are for me, and I’m certainly enjoying the show. Do carry on, that looks painful.” he said, gesturing to where Alex and Logan were still hard, and leaking all over themselves. You looked at them in disbelief.

“Are you enjoying this? Being watched by your best friend while you’re getting sucked off?”

They had the audacity to look bashful, and it also kind of did it for you. So you slowly took Logan back into your mouth and Alex in your hand and they groaned in unison. You savoured every second of it, even the sound of Oscar’s breath hitching as he inevitably started touching himself in time with your pace, made you wet.

As the three men got closer, their noises got louder and Alex asked “Where?”

Oscar answered for you. “If you ask nicely she’ll let you come anywhere you want”

The two others groaned and quickly rushed out “Can I come on your tits?” and “On your face, please?”

You nodded at them, and they started jerked off hard and fast, aiming at your face and breasts as you closed your eyes and stuck your tongue out. Alex came a couple of seconds before Logan, painting your face in streaks of white, most of it landing on your tongue, then you felt another load land on your chest as Logan whined out his orgasm.

As Logan caught his breath, Alex pulled you to your feet and kissed you sweetly as a thank you, before he leaned down and started working his tongue over where Logan’s cum streaked your skin, making you gasp. Then Logan came closer and started licking Alex’s cum off your face. It was hands down the weirdest situation you’d ever been in, but it was hot as fuck. That was made obvious by how Oscar groaned behind you, still working over his cock at a leisurely pace.

“What a sight you three make. If Lando were here he would cream his pants…”

You huffed “I’m sure he would, but you’re certainly not going to tell him about this, right?”

His eyes twinkled “We’re meeting him for lunch tomorrow in Montreal.”

The other two finished cleaning you up and got you (and themselves) dressed again, kissed you one last time, Logan giving you a quick tap on the ass, before leaving you and Oscar alone.

“You mind getting on your knees one last time for me, baby?”

“Anything for you, Osc” You smiled, but before you could move, he grabbed your arm.

“Actually… I want to make you feel good too.” He glanced at the mirror. “Stand in front of the sink, hands on the mirror.”

You obliged, planting yourself firmly before he pulled down your pants, already having noticed your lack of underwear earlier, and pushed a couple of fingers into you.

“God, baby, you’re dripping.”

“I know that, just get your dick in me!”

He chuckled and lined himself up, bottoming out in one go.

“Fuck- so warm and tight, just for me” he groaned and kissed your neck before grabbing your hips tight, and pounding into you.

The angle made it so that he hit your g spot on every thrust, getting you close to the edge in record time, your loud moans spurring him on to go harder.

You came together, panting and coming down from your highs with him wrapped around you, breathing into your neck.

Logan and Alex were in the cabin, listening to yours and Oscar’s needy moans as they squirmed in their seats. They were wondering if maybe next time, Oscar would let them fuck you.

It’s 4am, leave me alone. Inspired by these pics

#my thots #oscar thots #alex thots #logan thots #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant smut #alex albon #alex albon x reader #alex albon smut #f1 #formula 1 #loscalex

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uranometrias · 2 days

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my love mine all mine , aaron hotchner

this is incredibly self indulgent. i wrote this for myself, because my cat passed away today && i have no idea how to grieve correctly. but i've always been able to express myself the best through writing, so here i am trying to do so.

basically reader loses her kitten && hotch is there to comfort her while she grieves. reader is a doctor && gets her nails painted. mentions of sleeping in a scarf and braids (but this can apply to any race <3) hotch is pretty flirty. he also had a dog that died when he was younger (idk) ... i'm still getting used to writing him (but he's been rotting my brain) so hotch girlies please be sweet to me, i'm trying.

"Have you decided what you want me to grab on the way?" You feel giddy, eyes beaming vibrantly as you unlock your front door. Aaron was on the other line, he'd been looking forward to spending the evening with you for the past two weeks. Your jobs often sent you in separate directions, with him following cases cross country, and you spending nearly twenty hours a day working at Inova Fairfax Medical Campus. The commute was nearly an hour from Quantico, which made it difficult for your schedules to coincide the way you hoped.

Today though was an exception. He'd just gotten back from a case, a successful one, and you'd been lucky enough to finally get two days off. You couldn't contain your excitement when you'd finally managed to get Aaron on the phone, and with Jack staying at Jessica's for another night, it seemed everything was working out in your favor. You still had no idea what you were in the mood to eat, despite having ample time to figure it out. "I dunno." you mutter, and you drop your keys into the basket just to the left of the front door.

"Well honey, you've gotta give me something." Aaron chuckles, and his voices makes you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. "I'm sure you haven't anything at all today." and it doesn't take a rocket science to know he's absolutely correct. Your stomach grumbles audibly, and you cringe, the sound a dead giveaway of your poor eating habits. "Do you need a bit more time to think about it?" he asks, and you're nodding your head, despite the fact that he can't see you. Your focus is split, eyes darting around your place in search of Piper.

Piper was your five year old tabby, the most special companion that you'd cared for since she was a newborn. Usually she'd be making her way to your front door, nudging her head against your shins, meowing her head off as some form of reprimand for being gone too long. Her absence was unusual, but you'd noticed she'd been sleeping a touch longer in the recent months. You'd taken her to the vet and they'd written off any life threatening illnesses. Perhaps she was jus becoming a lazy cat they had said.

"What'd you eat yesterday?" you ask, and you shrug off your coat next, hanging it in the closet as you slip off your cork-leather clogs. You admire your pedicure, French-tips gleaming back at you as your feet hit the cherry laminate flooring. You imagined that he'd hardly been able to eat well while out on a case, Aaron (and his team) had a horrible habit of neglecting their own health and wellness for the sake of cracking the case. You'd call him out on it, but it'd feel to hypocritical with the way you gave most of your life to the hospital.

"Four cups of coffee." and he sounds sheepish as he replies, he'd been running himself ragged with this last particular case. He couldn't leave the precinct until he was convinced he'd made a dent in the investigation. He could imagine your disappointed pout, but he was doing his best, or at least trying his best. "But, Dave made sure that I got something this morning before we got on the jet." and it's not like he has to explain himself to you, you'd never berate him. He believed it was just a side effect of falling for you.

"Four cups?" you gasp, head already shaking. "You're going to turn into a cup of coffee if you keep up with habits like those." you scold. "You'll have to double your water intake, you could seriously dehydrate yourself that way." you say with a quiet huff. You round the corner of the foyer, heading for the kitchen. "Are you feeling alright?" your tone grows a bit softer, "Four cups means you were really absorbed in the case. Everything okay?" you tread lightly. You weren't quite sure how he felt about you asking about his job.

"As far as endings go, I'd say it was better than most." he replies thoughtfully, clearly unfazed by your desire to probe. That makes you smile a bit, the obviousness of his trust for you. "We minimized the amount of deaths, the unsub was taken into custody... the team worked really hard." he proceeds, and you find yourself grinning. "But, I will do a better job of taking care of myself. You'd be a good nurse, but I can imagine a few better scenarios for you to take care of me."

You smile despite the fact it makes your heart stutter step. You were still getting used to him growing more confident in this way, but you weren't complaining in the slightest. "I'd be a great nurse." you correct him delicately, "I'd enjoy taking care of you in any way though." and you bet he can hear your shyness through the phone. Your relationship with Aaron still felt fairly new, you'd been seeing one another for going on seven months, but you knew you loved him.

Even if you hadn't managed to say it just yet.

"Look at that, another thing we have in common." he exhales, and you want him to hurry up and get to you. You hadn't seen him in so long, and despite the fact you were willing to mount him on sight, you just wanted to enjoy being in the same place for once. "How are you? Did you have a good day?" and you like the way he's so attentive, how he seems to genuinely care about what you had to say.

"It was great." you insist, and you've poured yourself a glass of water, ice tinkling as you scanned the dining room for any sign of Piper. Still nothing, weird. "I went to the bookstore a bit earlier, got a few novels for my book shelf." you list. "I got my nails done, and I got a facial. It was so relaxing I wound up falling asleep on the table." and you chuckle a bit at the memory. "Piper and I went on a drive before lunch, she's so spoiled." you add, but you're still scouring the space.

"Drafted up my budget for the month, my new schedule came in," you exhale tiredly at the thought. "Picked up my scrubs from the dry cleaners, I did a grocery run, and went to see the flower exhibit near the Farmer's Market. I got this really incredible soft-pretzel croissant." you sigh dreamily at the memory. "And now I'm home, and waiting for you." you complete, and you lean forward, arms resting against the countertop. "It was a really nice day. I thought I wouldn't know what to do without work, but I'd nearly forgotten what it feels like to be off."

Aaron's silent, but not because he's disinterested in your ramblings. He finds them endearing, and oftentimes had to remind himself that you, much like Jack, needed verbal response in order to feel heard. "I missed you." and it's not quite what he was aiming to say, but it's what comes out. It's true, it had been a while since he'd seen you in person, and with the way your schedules overlapped, he'd hardly been able to get much conversation out of you apart from quick check-ins in between patients and breaks in BAU cases.

You let out a quiet puff of air, it's not quite a sigh nor an exhale. Your lips curve upwards, and you wonder if there's a record out there for most smiles achieved in a single phone call. "You've got no idea how happy that makes me." you reply, and you inhale deep. "I missed you too, hurry up and get over here." you press, and you replay the sound of his responding laugh over in your mind. You don't think you could be more lovesick, but it's a more than welcomed feeling. "As far as dinner, why don't I just cook something?" you offer with a shrug.

"Do you want to?" and Aaron's got this weird thing about him where he's still getting used to the fact that you want to do certain things for him. You go over it a lot, reminding him that you'd love nothing more than to spoil him as much as he spoils you. He's still a bit hesitant, but you don't mind fighting the good fight until he relented. His hands tighten just slightly on the steering wheel, and his leg jumps as he awaits your response. He knows, or better put, he has an idea of what you'll say. He still wants to hear it either way.

"We take care of each other, mon amour." You coo, and he feels that familiar rush of affection towards you. "It'll be fun." you add, and then you're sighing audibly. "I just really can't wait to see you. I don't want to wait any longer than I need to." you express, and Aaron understands. He'd been restless on the jet, Dave and Emily seemed to zero in on his jitters, he was thankful they had enough couth to keep it to themselves. All he received was a knowing smirk from Rossi as he made a beeline for the tarmac the second the jet landed.

"I'll be there soon." he promises, and you grow giddier. "I-" and he wants to cross the line, mutter three worded phrase that would change everything. He'd been learning to be more bold, to focus on the things he could control, and appreciate those things. "I love you." he doesn't have time to think about the repercussions, because it's out, and there's a strong sense of relief that washes over him. You are surprised, but elated. The excitement his words bring you is hard to diminish.

"I love you too." and it comes out as easy as breathing. Probably because you mean it with all of your heart. "I'll see you soon, Mr. Hotchner." you promise, and he's chuckling at your sudden formality, likely a side effect of your newfound nerves at the huge step you'd both taken in your relationship.

"See you soon." you don't bring the phone from your ear until you hear the faint click of the call ending. You exhale shakily, mind running at a mile a minute as your heart seems to double in size. Still, you find this moment is short lived- mind once again on the eerie silence in your apartment. You place your glass down on the counter, coaster be damned as you make your way past the dining room and towards the living room. Sometimes you'd find Piper curled up on the couch, quiet purrs escaping her as she slept contently.

"Piper!" you coo, surprised when you note that she's nowhere to be found. You know that she wasn't outside, you'd made sure before leaving back out that she was comfortable in the house. You follow the layout of your place, the archway that led from the living room back to the foyer is the route you take, heading towards your bedroom as you continuously call for the cat. "Piper, where are you, pretty girl?" you enter your room, hopeful that you'll find her there.

You spot her little paw peeking out of her hideaway and instantly relax. "Oh Piper, you scared me." you let out a shaky sort of giggle as you fully enter your bedroom, feet brushing over the comforting carpet. You kneel just in front of the hideaway, reaching out to pet her. It takes you a few moments to make peace with the fact that she's not rousing. You swallow thickly, a lump growing in your throat as you wiggle her paw. She doesn't move, just as limp as before.

"Piper?" you feel the way your throat constricts, eyes immediately wanting to brim with tears, as you grow frantic. "Oh, please no-" you exclaim, head shaking as you feel a shudder rack through you. You're gentle as you maneuver around the hideaway, hands looping around her small body as you move to pull her out. She's limp, not even the act of you lifting her up enough to make her move. Your glow feels like it's diminished almost instantly, a dark cloud setting in over your head. It seemed a bit silly, panicked over the loss of a cat.

But she was yours, like a daughter to you in the way you cared for her, and made her apart of your routine. She was special, and despite the reputation cats gained for being standoffish and unable to understand human love, you knew that to be wrong. Piper was sweet, a loving cat that curled up beside you every night and followed you like a second shadow. She'd play games of tag with you, chasing you around your apartment as you squealed and screamed for your life.

"Please, please, no-" you're shedding real tears now, they're slipping down your cheeks in a constant succession. "Piper, please wake up!" it's silly, probably. Rocking back and forth with a dead cat in your hand hoping that sheer adoration will be enough to turn back the hands of time. It's certainly not, and the reality crushes you. The first sob is choked, almost like you're holding yourself back, not letting your feelings take full affect. You hadn't prepared yourself at all.

You didn't know what to do.

You think that's when the first swell of sobs begins. They're more ugly wails than anything else, the loud sound echoing through the space in front of you as your arms lower, Piper's body leaning against you as you continued to let your tears flow freely. Your chest tightens, constricting every couple of seconds like you'd suddenly developed chronic heartburn. The pain is a violent assassin, the air around you feeling tight. You think you may be choking on all that you're feeling.

You hate the part of your brain that was constantly in 'Doctor Mode', the side that reminded you that despite your grief, handling a deceased animal like this was a surefire way to get sick. Her body wouldn't start to decompose for at least another day, but you had no real way of knowing just how long she'd actually been dead. You don't move though, until at least your sobs have waned, you know it's not the end of them, but it's a reprieve just for a moment.

You slowly climb to your feet, still clutching Piper as your eyes whip around your bedroom. Your eyes land on her carrier, and the image makes you want to cry all over again. You shut your eyes, allowing yourself to take in a deep breath. It doesn't help. Still, your feet lead you over to the carrier, where you're gently placing Piper. Her vet was only eight minutes up the street, and maybe your ability to dispose of her so quickly was precisely why this was happening to you.

Guilt was loud, too loud. It almost knocked you to your knees as you imagined Piper's fear whilst you were gone. Was she sick? How long had she been? Why hadn't you noticed? Why did you leave her alone? Why weren't you there? You let her down. You had let her down.

You want to curl into a ball, hide under the blankets and cry until you passed out. But, she deserved better. She deserved to not be lugged around like she was some prop, she needed a proper place to rest. Once her carrier is zipped up, you're picking it up by the handles, using your other hand to swipe at the tears still trying to fall. You take the route you'd walked not ten minutes prior, slipping your shoes back on, and grabbing hold of your keys. Aaron still had another forty minutes or so in his drive, you hoped it went by quickly.

You don't think you ever needed him more than now.

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The sobs returned the second you'd walked past the threshold of your house. You sluggishly made your way back to your bedroom. It felt much lonelier now, the house feeling much too big for just you. You think that makes you cry even harder. You're covering your mouth with your hand, hoping that it would be enough to mask the sound of your bawling. You doubt that it does, but you can't do much else. You don't want to go to sleep, you don't want to do anything.

You begin berating your behavior once more in your head, replaying all the ways you'd been a shitty caretaker even though you know it's a bad idea. Your leg shakes under your comforter, the blanket squished underneath your body as you hid your face beneath the blazing heat of your huge blanket. You don't even realize how long you've spent in this space of self-loathing and bitter tears, until you hear the front door's lock shifting out of place. Aaron was here.

"Y/N, sweetheart?" and you want to run to him more than anything. You can't though, because you don't want him to think you're a failure. So you stay put, and you cry a bit more, sniffles growing more audible as you're forced to choke back angry sobs. It doesn't take long for him to make his way towards where you are, and you don't know what he'll say when he finds you looking a mess. You know your mascara has given you racoon eyes, and in your grief, you'd failed to tie a scarf around your head. Your braids would look messy soon.

"Y/N?" and his voice is so soft, soothing, everything you don't deserve now. Your hand clutches a fistful of your shirt, right where your heart rests. "Are you in here, honey?" and you sniffle, an answer all on its own. You barely hear his footsteps, but you feel it when the bed dips just slightly, and you feel it when he gently pulls at your blanket. When he's pulled it back, he's met with the sight of your tear-streaked cheeks. Your nose was runny and raw, and your lip was quivering. It didn't take a profiler to know that you'd been crying, and he frowns.

"Are you alright?" he questions, and his hand reaches out to brush against your cheek and neck, almost like he was checking your temperature. "You've been crying?" and he examines you subtly for any signs of assault or struggle. "Did something happen?" and he knows he keeps asking questions, but he's getting worried.

"P-" and a sob racks through you, your entire body curling in on itself. Your hand is pressing against your mouth again, and your shoulders shake as you began to cry once more. "Piper she-" and your head shakes, hand clenching and unclenching against your shirt. Aaron's eyes dance around your room, and his eyebrows push inwards. He was worried, but determined to be extremely delicate with you, namely by being patient as you got out what you needed to tell him. "Piper's dead." you finally say, shoulders sagging as you weep.

Aaron's examining your face, which gives you a front row seat of the way his face is eclipsed with compassion. "Oh, honey..." his lips pull downwards into a frown, and you know, of course you know it's awkward. What do you realistically say to a person that loses their cat? It's not like any amount of conversation would bring her back. "I'm so sorry...." and usually it sounds empty when anyone offers condolences, but like with most things, Aaron is an exception. "Are you okay? Can you tell me what happened?" he pleads.

And you know that he knows that you're not okay. It's meant to be a stupid question, the obvious one. But you also know that he's giving you the chance to vent, to articulate everything you feel with no judgement. It makes you want to curl into him, and stay wrapped up in his arms until neither of you had any idea where one ended and the other began. "I just-" you have to take a moment to gather yourself, hiccupping blubbers escaping you. "I came home, and I-" your voice cracks harshly. "She was just gone. I don't-" you shake your head.

"I don't know what happened." you express, and Aaron's sympathetic, and he hates seeing you like this. Every time you cry it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand upright. He supposed that came with loving you, an innate desire to protect you, and keep the bad things out. He'd only ever seen you in this state a handful of times, mostly when things went wrong at the hospital and you lost a patient. He had to get to you before you started blaming yourself for something that completely out of your control.

He didn't know much, but he did know your love for Piper, and how deep it ran. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that you'd never do something to put her in harm's way, you'd never do anything to hurt her. And he wants to pull you into his arms and tell you everything will be alright, he wants to be there to anchor you down. To ground you in the midst of all these swimming and overwhelming emotions trying to fight for the upper hand. He wanted to be there for you.

"Is there anything that you need from me?" he asks gently, grief was harsh, it came in ripples and waves. It was gut-punching, it could be loud and then silent. Sneaky and then outright. It was a process, and whether anyone else thought so, if you needed to grieve the life of your pet, you should. Who was he to ever get in the way? He's gently rubbing his thumb over your cheek, your tears splattering as you kept the duvet pulled up to your chin, as you stared him down. He figured you must have been deep in thought.

It takes a moment for you to reply, and he's fine with the silence. You're tears haven't stopped, but they've grown more quiet. Silent tears that pool and trickle down his wrist and onto the blanket. You soon take in a shaky puff of air as you sit up. Aaron's patient as ever, watching as you pull your legs from underneath the blanket, crawling until you were sitting on his lap. There's no sexual undertone to your movements, you don't want to fool around, you just want to be close.

Your head rests against him, eyes closing as his arms envelop you. "Can you just stay with me?" you ask, and he's already nodding his head. You both knew it was an impossible request. At any moment you could get paged, or he could get a call about a new case. The world didn't stop all because you were grieving, but for one second you both could pretend. He could stay right here with you, and you could love him, and not feel so overwhelmed by all your sadness.

"I'm not going anywhere." he mutters, and he's reaching for your hand. His easily dwarfs your own, but it's still just as comfortable, letting your palms press against his own. "I have never lost a cat before-" and he's treading lightly, wanting more than anything to help you and not harm you. "But I did lose a pet when I was younger." he expresses, and your interest is peaked, just slightly.

"What type of pet?" you ask faintly, and you're squeezing his hand in your own. He knows that it's comforting you so he says nothing about the tight pinch of his fingers pressing together.

"He was a golden retriever actually." Aaron replies, "Nothing was particularly wrong with him. He was fed well, taken care of, treated like one of the family..." he proceeds, and you involuntarily hold your breath as you listen. "But one day he just... he just went." Hotch proceeds, "And when you're a little kid that's not in the best environment, a staple like a pet dog is important. Losing him was like losing the only bit of sanity I could cling to. Does that make sense?"

Your head nods, and you squeeze his hand again to show him you care. "And surprisingly enough, I found myself crying over it. Mourning this dog, an animal that was part of the family, but of course, was not my family member." he continues, and his chin rests on the top of your head. "The point is, him being a dog didn't make it hurt any less when he left. It's okay to be upset about Piper, she was important to you, special even." he whispers. "And you did a great job giving her all the love you possibly could." his eyes close then.

"I need you to know that it wasn't your fault. And keeping yourself up with thoughts of 'what ifs'." it's his turn to squeeze your hand this time. "And those moments where you... didn't want to play, or wanted to be left alone are not what she remembered when she passed on." he insists, and he won't take any arguments on the matter. "You gave her five amazing years, and whether science backs it up or not, she knew how much you loved her." he insists. "You might not believe it today, but I hope that you do in time." and he kisses your forehead.

It's butterfly inducing, and makes you cling all the more to him. "You're not by yourself." he adds, and you're glad to know it. You peel back, eyes locking with his, and they're glassy. You hate seeing such a grief-stricken look on his face, at your sake no less. It makes you lean forward and kiss him, in the hopes you'd manage to kiss it away. He kisses back instantly, and you're still sad, you probably will be for a long while, but you don't feel as lonely as you did an hour ago.

"I love you." you mumble the second you've pulled back, and this time there's no phone. His eyes are swirling with so many thoughts and feelings of his own, but you need him to know you mean it, and likely always will. You couldn't imagine anyone else being here with you like this now, nobody else that would care enough to grieve with you. He gives you a half smile, and kisses you once more, a much deeper kiss that makes you lightheaded and dizzy. Of course he had that effect.

"I love you too." and you're happy that he hasn't left you hanging. Your fingers trace his collarbones and cheeks, moving to cup his face with your right hand. You kiss him again, this time just long enough to get the message across. When you pull back, your head is finding it's place back on his chest, and his arms move up and down, rubbing gentle circles against your back, as he cranes his neck to kiss your head. It makes your stomach flutter, but it makes you want to cry too.

He leaves three gentle pecks on the top of your head, moving to kiss your cheek, before he's looping his arms around your waist with a palpable amount of admiration. He plants a sweet kiss on your shoulder, and mimic this action by offering him a kiss of your own. "Thank you." you exhale, and you mean it so wholeheartedly.

"You don't need to thank me, Y/N. We take care of each other, mon amour, remember?" and he recites your earlier words back to you. It makes you cling to him much tighter, tears returning to your lashline as Aaron pulls you even closer to him. "If you need to cry a little bit more, go right ahead. I'm right here." so you do.

Grief was a lot, it could be paralyzing, debilitating, and outright traumatic, but you knew even if it didn't feel that way now, in time you'd be okay. Part of you felt like you had Aaron to thank for that.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotcher fluff #aaron hotchner angst #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch #hotch x reader

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hyperactively-me · 21 hours

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regency era!ghost x reader au (part 6)

Over the next few weeks, Simon makes a strenuous effort to show you that he is sincere in his desire to make amends. He arranges several opportunities for you to spend time together, each one designed to allow you both to get to know each other better.

At first, you were hesitant, still unsure if his actions were truly sincere. The memory of his past behavior lingered, and you remained wary of his intentions. Yet, his persistence and the subtle shifts in his demeanor begin to chip away at your skepticism.

You had thought him to be all proud and tough, icy and distant. This is not to say that he isn’t all sunshine and smiles, but he’s polite, softer, more gentle. All of these qualities, though, and he only seems to save them for you. With anyone else, he is just as stern and serious as he was when you first met him. It’s slightly amusing to see, and it warms your heart in a way you’ve never felt before. Yet, as the days pass, you begin to see another side of Simon. His thoughtful gestures and quiet kindness surprise you, revealing a depth of character you had not expected. You realized that he paid attention to minute details, noticing the little things that make you smile and remembering your preferences and dislikes.

One afternoon, he surprises you with a picnic at your favorite spot by the lake in the park, having remembered an offhand comment you made weeks ago about how much you love the peacefulness there. As you sit together on the blanket, the gentle rippling of the water soothing you, you find yourself opening up to him in ways you hadn't anticipated.

"Simon," you begin, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "I've noticed how much effort you're putting into gaining my trust. It's... unexpected."

He looks at you, his expression earnest. "I meant every word of what I said. I want to make things right between us.”

You nod, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "I can see that now. And I appreciate it."

Much to your surprise, you find yourself looking forward to your time with Simon more and more. You had only really started doing these small outings with him as a way to mend a relationship, and nothing more. But, now that you’ve gotten to know him, you can’t deny the growing fondness in your heart.

Simon, too, seems to cherish these outings more than he lets on. You see it in the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, in the gentle timbre of his voice when he speaks to you, and in the subtle touches that linger just a bit longer than necessary.

He sends you flowers twice a week, leaves a book on your doorstep on Sunday mornings, and on Thursdays you receive jewels for upcoming soirees.

At balls, he is practically glued to your side, your dance card always claimed by him. It’s become the talk of the ton: the cold-hearted Duke falling for the spirited lady he once scorned. The whispers and speculation only seems to spur Simon on, as if the very notion of your growing bond was a delicious secret. If any bachelor even so tried to ask you to dance, Simon would cast daggers in their direction. He acted as if you were already married, unwilling to let anyone else near you. You always pretended not to notice, but you noticed every detail.

At the park, he often finds ways to make you laugh, his demeanor softening into something akin to warmth. One particularly sunny afternoon, you suggest a game of croquet.

Simon opened his mouth to shoot down your idea, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to play for the sole reason that he knows he would lose against you. Who has time to play croquet, anyway?

“You call that a swing, Mister Riley?” you tease, watching as Simon's ball veers wildly off course.

He chuckles, his eyes full of amusement. "Perhaps my skills lie elsewhere, my lady. Though, I must say, your form is impeccable."

You preen at the compliment. "Well, someone has to maintain some semblance of skill in this game," you chuckle.

Simon often invites you over to his estate for long walks, showing you around the vast gardens and the serene grounds he’s so proud of. Each visit reveals a new aspect of his life and his personality, drawing you ever closer.

One late afternoon, as the sun begins to set and paints the sky in hues of orange and pink, Simon leads you to a secluded part of the estate—a quaint, hidden garden filled with blooming flowers and a gently gurgling fountain at its center.

“I come here to think,” he says softly, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

You’re touched by the gesture, understanding how much it means for him to open up a private part of his life to you. “It’s beautiful here, Mister Riley. Thank you for showing it to me.”

He smiles, a genuine, heartfelt expression that makes your heart flutter. “You’re welcome. I want you to feel at home here.”

You cock your head at that, when he says home. He stares at you for a moment, studying your expression. He then breaks contact, turning to face the fountain.

"After my time in the military, I found it hard to adjust to this life," he confesses, his gaze fixed on the trickling fountain. "I put up walls, thinking it would protect me. But all it did was push people away."

You glance at him, your heart softening at the raw honesty in his words. "We all have our defenses, Mister Riley. But it's never too late to break them down, to really get to know people. It’s one of the best parts of life.”

He looks at you, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "You've taught me that. More than anyone ever has."

Your heart sings at his words, and all you want to do is squeeze him tight.

"I need to say something else,” he continues, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "I've been wrong about so many things. About you. I want to be a better man, for you."

Your heart skips a beat at his words. You see the sincerity in his eyes, the genuine desire to change. “Mister Riley,” you say softly, reaching out to take his hand, "I can see that you're trying. And it's not about being perfect. It's about being honest, about being real. I appreciate that."

He smiles, a rare, genuine smile that lights up his face. "Thank you. That means more to me than you know."

He reaches across the table, taking your hand in his. "I know I've made mistakes in the past, and I can never truly erase them. But I hope that, in time, you might come to see me not just as the duke who wronged you, but as a man who deeply cares for you."

Your heart flutters at his words, and you squeeze his hand gently. "I think I already do, Mister Riley.”

“Simon. Call me Simon.”

Your mouth is ever so slightly agape, and you lick your lips, heart racing. “Simon," you repeat, savoring the intimacy of using his first name. The sound of it feels right on your lips, a bridge between your hearts.

Simon’s heart constricts in his chest the moment his name rolls off your tongue, and he wants nothing more than to kiss you right now. He wants to be yours, forever.

“This garden is yours as much as it is mine. A place where you can come whenever you need peace, or just to think.”

"Thank you, Simon. That means a lot to me," you say, touched by his gesture. "And I hope you know that I'm here for you too. We're both learning and growing, and I'm glad we're doing it together."

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the garden, you and Simon sit in comfortable silence, hands intertwined. The tranquil setting reflects the newfound serenity in your hearts. The walls that once stood between you are crumbling, replaced by trust, understanding, and something that feels like the beginnings of love.

part 5 < > part 7

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme #*ੈ✩ simon “ghost” riley

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chronically-ghosted · 3 days

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i breathe you in (and it changes me)

rating: teen pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader word count: 2K summary: you've been here with him before - rock bottom. But this time, he gives you reason to hope for something new. warnings: alcohol use, mentions of drug use, physical fighting, blood, wounds, bruises, mentions of past toxic behavior a/n: your original ask @bitchwitch1981 got swallowed up by tumblr, so i had to create a new post :( but I wanted to say thank you so much for requesting this - it was more therapeutic to write than i initially thought!

1K ask:

Sweet Taylor, Congratulations on the amazing milestone! 💜 I have decided to go for astrology for The Midnight Seance. I have chosen the prompt “Hold my hand please?” “When you ask so nicely.” and my own darling Dieter Bravo.

🤍Masterlist 🤍 Dieter Bravo Masterlist

The damp heat of the night is made worse by the thick knot of chittering spectators by the back alley of the club. You can hear the fleshy blows, hear the flesh rip and tear the veins, the delighted groan of the crowd after a particularly sickening crunch. White lights of camera flashes flicker, the smell of blood acidic on your tongue, the metallic taste getting stronger the closer you get to the front of the crowd. You see the blur of an arm just as you shove aside a man recording the whole scene with his phone; how much will TMZ pay for even seven seconds of that video?

Across from you, a thick shadow with bloody knuckles paces like a caged tiger, snorting with rage, the spectators jeering and howling their approval. The man, twice as thick as you are, waits at the edge of the fight, his vision locked forward, massive hands itching to rip apart something alive.

Whatever is left alive of the heap of clothes in front of you.

It shudders, arms and legs curling beneath it, and rolls backwards. The crowd lets out a disgusted groan at the sight of the bloody face. Your heart sinks to the sticky concrete.

Oh, Dieter.

Asphalt digs into your knees as you kneel down next to him, the sounds of the crowd fading as panic swells within you. He doesn’t even register that you’re there until you touch his cheek. One eye completely swollen shut, blood running down from his nose over his upper lip, he meets your gaze and flinches.

“Sorry,” he slurs – either from his split lip or being drunk out of his mind, you can’t tell, “you look like my ex.”

“Dieter, it’s me.”

His collar is torn, blood speckles cover the front of his shirt, and his jeans are filthy. Judging by his own shredded knuckles, he might have actually gotten a few good hits in. Gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning. You put a hand on his shoulder, looking for any other open wounds, for more blood – and he shoves you off.

“Go away. I’m kicking this guy’s ass.”

Groaning, Dieter staggers to his feet, the blood freely flowing from his nose now. He gets upright and immediately stumbles, hands going to his knees, much to the deformed glee of the crowd. They whoop and laugh and hold their phones higher.

Even in heels, you’re several inches shorter than him and you intentionally didn’t wear that much clothing – you were going to club with your friends to forget – but you try to shield him from the camera lenses anyway.

From the back of his throat, Dieter spits out a wad of blood. “Fuck, my head hurts.” The drool that slips from his mouth is pink and frothy.

“Dieter, c’mon, we’re going.”

You drag his arm over your shoulder, shifting as much of his weight onto you as you can. His entire back and underneath his arm is drenched in what you pray is sweat. Behind you, you know the other man is yelling, shouting, something about teaching that fat mouth a lesson, but you do what you’ve alway done when it comes to Dieter: you put yourself between him and an oncoming car crash.

Hoping a grown man won’t take a full swing with a woman in kitten heels and a slinky dress nearby, you half-push, half-carry Dieter back towards the way you came in, but you make it two more steps before he pushes you away again, his fingertips drifting down your shoulder. His face is twisted up in agony.

“Fuckin’ stop. I don’t need your help.”

You grab him by the bicep, twisting him to you again, and he stumbles, muttering a gruff sorry. Blood from his nose drips down onto your bare chest. He watches it, transfixed, his emotions crackling from one high to the next low.

You cup his bruised, swollen jaw and his wet eyes meet yours and for an instant, no one else exists. His bottom lip trembles.

“Dieter” you murmur, low enough for just him to hear, just enough for him to lean forward, to let himself be captured by you – briefly – just as he always had been. “We’re going home, okay?”

He nods, eyes shut, swaying, and lets himself be dragged away.

Beyond the black partition, you hear music. Too soft to be distinct, too faint. Yet it sits between your teeth all the same, hums in the back of your jaw. Static noise.

In your lap, lays Dieter’s head. Your skirt feels damp from where the blood from his nose gathers. It stopped dripping minutes ago but the spot still feels cold, still thick with it. Your hand curls in his hair, loose but weighted. Grounding. He always said this was his favorite spot in the entire world.

You didn’t tell the driver to go east, towards Sherman Oaks, but the opposite direction, towards the rental property you kept by the beach. Before that, home had always been Sherman Oaks, but . . . in the after, you couldn’t even bear to see the name on the sign.

Partially it’s practical. Given the swarmed mob, there most likely was another one waiting for him at the gates to his mansion. He doesn’t have his phone, you know, which is most likely a curse and a blessing. When it comes to moments like these, you’ve learned to deal with the problem right in front of you, one at a time. Or rather, the one in your lap.

You swore you’d never be here again, you swore that you’d learn to unremember what here even feels like, and yet you ran to him all the same. This is not the first time you wonder if leaving him bleeding and drooling into the concrete would have been the right thing to do.

The car drives you both towards the rental because you want him there. You want him to fill up that empty space in your bed, smear the too messy sink in the bathroom with uncharged electric toothbrushes and toothpaste that tastes like cotton candy, and bring a sense of wonder back into your increasingly dark days. But with all that, comes this. The black partition ahead of you blurs, your eyes grow hot and tight, submissive to the beaks of birds, and the back of your fingers not caught in his hair press harshly to the back of your mouth. You fight a shudder because you know he can’t bear to see you cry.

“I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

His apologies always start like this, a little broken, a little roundabout way of getting to the heart of things. You sniff, your hand slipping to his shoulder and grasping it tight. “We don’t have to talk about it right now, okay, baby?”

“I didn’t want you to see me take pills.”

Your head bumps the back of the seat, as you swallow a sob and a laugh all at once. You squeeze him – no, no, of course not, you never mean it, you never mean any of it —

“My therapist said they would help. And then they did. But I couldn’t get you back.”

He mutters something, rubbing his face slowly in your lap, like a blind kitten, his big hand over your knees, but you’re too stunned to parse out his babbling.

“You went to therapy?”

“Still in it.” He wheezes through a bruised rib. “She’s gonna be so pissed about this.”

“You’re not high?”

He shake-rubs his head again, the curls at his forehead catching against the sequins of your top. “Just drunk. I fucking hate being drunk.”

He babbles some more, the words looped on tangled string, but you sit up, and gently turn his face towards you. The bleeding has stopped, but the swelling has set in. His right eye is black and blue, the skin puffy and tender. There’s a cut across his left cheek and his lip is split down the middle. Fuck, if these don’t heal right, that could be the end of his career.

Goddamn it – and why would you care about that? It’s not your job to care anymore.

You reverently trace a finger over his black eye, his cheek, his lips, to the blood on his temple. Tragedy always looked so good on him.

His hand catches yours. You think his good eye might be filled with tears.

“I tried to get better . . . for you. For us. I took all the right pills, instead of the wrong ones this time, and I thought I was better.” Dieter shifts, so his back is against the seat and he’s looking straight up at you. He holds your hand to his chest, his other rising up to cup your cheek. That single touch cracks your resolve, your rule against letting him affect you, and you cry. He watches the silent tears roll down your cheeks, over his thumb. You think he looks remorseful. “I tried to get better and you moved on without me.”

It only just now occurs to you that he had most likely been inside the club when you had, had probably seen you and never said anything. He watched you dance and drink and try to forget him with other sweaty bodies and he never said a thing.

Bruised anger, the kind that melts off your ribs, flares bright within you and you jerk your face away from his touch.

“You don’t get to blame me for your shit anymore, Dieter.”

His fingers curl and he swallows, the dried blood around his mouth cracking. “No, baby, I’m not. I’m not. I’m sorry I ever did. I didn’t mean it, I never mean it – never meant to hurt you. But I do, don’t I? I hurt you all the time.”

Your anger throbs. “Then why? Why, Dieter, would you wait to get help until after I was gone? Didn’t you want to try . . . to salvage something, anything between us?”

His hand drops to his chest.

“I didn’t want you to see me take pills.”

You suddenly recognize the weight of his head on your lap, the density of his shoulders against your lap, and you, in a cycle of regret and love, want to scream at him. Want to shake him. Instead you brush his sticky curls off his forehead and a single tear escapes the corner of his eye, down his temple.

“You silly, silly boy.” You sniff, tears freely flowing, and curl a strand of his beautiful hair in your fingers. “I would have been there for you. I’m glad you got help, and I hate that this was a relapse, but I would never have judged you for trying to get better, even if you failed. You were the one who didn't want me to see that side of you, Dieter. I never stopped loving you.”

For a moment, he goes still, the darkness of the night street obscuring his face, blurring him into one dark shadow that wheezed and sighed. You’re about to seek out his hand in the dark, if not his face, not his wounds, when he lets out the most broken noise you’d ever heard come from anyone.

It’s a noise that will haunt you in nightmares for years to come.

“Oh,” he says.

The car rolls to a stop, the faint music barely heard over the rush and crash of the waves on the other side of your rental. The radio goes silent and the partition rolls down.

“We’re here, miss.”

You wipe your eyes, mascara streaks turning your finger tips black, and cough to clear the knot in your throat that beats in time with your heart. Hands curling under his shoulders, you move to lift him up off your lap.

“C’mon, Dieter, we’ve gotta get you cleaned up–,”

“Wait.” He visibly swallows, nothing else on his face so clear in the dark. You feel a faint drop on your skirt. “I mean, I’ll go but . . . hold my hand – please?”

Despite yourself, despite him, despite your tear-drenched lips, you lean down and kiss his forehead. Your shared shaky breaths are trapped between your chest and his. “Only when you ask so nicely.”

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo fic #the bubble fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal fandom

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ssahotchnerr · 3 days

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Hihi! Any thoughts on how Ellie’s birthday goes in the Hotchner house? I feel like Aaron would always try to make birthdays really special whenever he got the chance 🥺

omg yes absolutely 🥹

you and aaron go all out in terms of decorating once she's in bed 🥹 a birthday banner, a ton of balloons including one of those big ones that's her age, streamers outside her bedroom door so she walks out into them immediately in the morning (hehe she's soo tickled by that, and is even more excited when she goes downstairs and sees all her decorations!!!), a special breakfast treat - like donuts or something, not the usual (more healthy) assortment of cereal, oatmeal, etc.. the preparation the night before is always bittersweet though - she's growing up!!! 🥹 but she's growing up 🥺

and it's just the little things that make it so special <3 the out of the ordinary things and that's what she looks forward to the most when her birthday rolls around 🥰 like coming downstairs to see sooo many colorful balloons?? she talks about it for literally the whole year, and can't wait for her next bday to get them again!!! and hotchner birthdays are always family days; the four of you go out and do a fun activity of ellie's choice - going to a museum, or a play place, the ballet!!!! then dinner afterwards, and back home for cake and presents 🥰 then come the weekend, the bau comes over for a big family party to celebrate her <3 jack's birthday equally consists of the same too!!

also someone's mentioned it before (and i'm toying with the idea🤨) aaron and ellie share the same birthday 🥹 hehe the two of them blowing out birthday candles together 💓💞 ellie's on his lap, and aaron pretends to blow, allowing ellie to get them all out herself 😭🥹💞🥺😭😭 having a cake together becomes a tradition 🥺🥹 and ellie feels sooo special to share a birthday with her dad <33 🥹

and if aaron happens to miss her birthday - he has the utter most dad guilt 😭 ellie will still wake up to all the festivities, but the day-out waits until he's home and can join <3 - so you, jack and ellie do something else that's special instead 🥰 and aaron calls home multiple times that day - in the morning, during cake and bedtime

#ellie hotchner <3 #let's talk aaron <333333 #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds drabble

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 2 days

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Hey there! May I just say that I love your celebration ideas? I love this jukebox concept so much!

I'd love to request one. I remember loving the fic you wrote for my request during your previous event, and I love linking music to writing. My current favorite song is ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine, and I'd love to request it with Crosshair (surprise!). The song gives me very romantic but also melancholic vibes, and to me it means loving a place/situation/person so much that you just want the moment to last forever.

But of course, you may work your magic for this. I love your writing, and I'll be happy with whatever you choose to write 🩵 thank you so much in advance!

Thank you so much love. It means a lot that you like my crazy ideas. Love oo.

Now, your request had me stumped for a few minutes, and then the idea just flowed. I hope you like my interpretation of this song, because you're right, it has very melancholic vibes.

Love oo.

Ceilings

Warnings: Injury, AU of S2E16, tears, dream, kissing, implied coitus, promises, declarations of feelings, sacrifice, saving others, angst. I think that's it. If I missed anything please let me know.

Main Master List | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette | AO3 Link

Your eyes blinked as you saw the raindrops falling down on top of you. You don’t remember exactly what happened, but you see the railcars moving. They’re safe. You smile to yourself as your body screams in pain, you want to move, to get up but everything is telling you that wouldn’t be a good idea.

For some reason your eyelids feel heavy, you want to close them, to fall asleep for just a little while, but in the back of your mind you know that’s not a good idea.

You know you need to stay away, but … something doesn’t seem right. Your mind must be playing tricks on you because you see Crosshair kneeling down beside you, smiling.

Gods, how you missed that smile. You close your eyes fighting back tears, as you feel his hand on your cheek.

“Hey mesh’la”

“Crosshair?”

“Who else?”

“Wha … what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? It’s date night.”

You blinked as you were no longer lying on the floor of the valley on Eriadu, you were now in your living room. You looked down at your dress, it was the one Crosshair loved on you, the yellow one with white flowers on the bottom half of your skirt. You slowly sat up, shaking your head.

“I just had the craziest dream.”

“Really?” He smiled leaning in closer, “Anything you wanna recreate?” He smirked as he wiggled his eyebrows.

You giggled, shaking your head slightly as you rolled your eyes at him, “Not that kind of dream, anyways what took you so long?”

“Sorry, Hunter was being impossible, but I’m here now” he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours, claiming your mouth the way he always used to. Used to, no that’s not right. Does. The way he always does.

You pulled back, shaking your head.

“You okay, mesh’la?”

“Yeah, just … Crosshair where are we?”

He looked around and smirked, “If I’m not mistaken mesh’la, your apartment on Coruscant,” he answered, his eyebrow arching amused with his own answer. You simply shook your head, fighting the amused look on your face.

As you looked into his eyes, you reached your hand up and caressed his cheek. You missed touching his cheek like this, trying to comfort him as much as you could … missed? He was right here, why would you be missing touching his cheek.

“Well shall we?” You tilted your head smiling.

“By all means,” he took your hand in his, guiding you out of the apartment, towards 79’s.

The night progressed, with a lot of dancing, a lot of touching, and a lot of drinking.

You remembered how he started to kiss you in the taxi, how it continued as you got on the lift to your apartment, you remembered how quickly you both got undressed. How you held him so tight afraid it would’ve been the last time.

The next morning you watched as he got dressed, and sat beside you on the bed, “I had fun last night, mesh’la.”

“So did I, Cross.” You smiled as you held his hand, “How long are you going to be away this time?”

“Not sure, they brought us back to help with some mission to find a spy or something; doesn’t matter one mission is the same as the next. I’ll be back.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You promise?”

“Nothing could keep me away from you.”

You smirked as you looked into his eyes, “Liar.”

“Nope.” He held up his right hand, “I swear, if I’m not back it’s because I’m dead. Then you’ll have to deal with my brothers on your own.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head, “Your brothers aren’t that bad.”

He let out a huff, “Yes, they are, but you’re too kind-hearted to know the difference. Anyway that’s always been the deal, if anything happens to me, Hunter will look after you. Alright? But nothing’s going to happen, so you’re stuck with me.”

You pulled him in one last time, kissing him with all the passion and love you felt for him, “I love you, Crosshair.”

“I love you, mesh’la. I gotta go. I’ll comm you when I can.”

With that he was gone.

A pain entered your head, as memories after that moment flashed through your mind, Hunter appearing at your door, telling you they had to run. Meeting Omega. Fighting for Crosshair all that time.

Your feet felt cold, as though the rain had filled your boots. You blinked and you were back on Eriadu, still on the floor of the valley. The rain was still coming down … was that rain? You touched your cheeks slowly, painfully, no… that was rain. It was tears.

You glanced around hoping you’d see Crosshair one more time, but it wasn’t real… he wasn’t there. You breathed out one last time, unable to recall if that was really the last time you kissed Crosshair.

Despite how hard you tried, your eyes closed as your world went dark.

Main Master List | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette | AO3 Link

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal @crosshair-is-the-superior-clone @totallyunidentified @griffedeloup @leotatombs @leotawrites

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homiesexual-or-homosexual · 2 days

Text

King! Steve Harrington and Personal Knight! Eddie Munson

Pairing: Steddie x reader

Genre: kinda fluff, smut

Warnings: arranged marriage, intimidation (but nothing to worry about), flirting, implied smut, boys kissing

———

Here you stood. Three steps down the throne. Parents on either side of you. King Harrington at the center, his parents whom stepped down on either side of him, and King Harrington’s personal knight on his right.

You practically shook, like a baby deer in ice, as your parents introduced you. You’d just turned 19 and Harrington 21.

He hasn’t chosen a wife yet so his parents threw a Presentation Ball, where nearby kingdoms would bring their of age daughters and show them off to the newly made king. And he looked bored as he observed the presenters and presentees. But, unbeknownst to you, you seemed to have caught his eye, as well as his knight’s.

Harrington’s parents seemed disinterested and waved you lot off, calling out to the next. You own parents grumbled all the way down the stairs and to your assigned table, scolding you once settled and fixing your clothes. They mouthed that this dress was not modest enough, but also not attractive enough at the same time. You’ve disappointed them and lost a chance for your parents to become allies with the Harrington royal family.

You watched the rest of the presenters go up and down, about 15 of you in total. You watched how the four of them interacted, which ones his parents approved of and which ones they didn’t. King Harrington hadn’t given away much emotion, only communicating with his personal knight through a series of subtle hand gestures. But what you failed to notice the is glancing, how both of the men watched you sit beside yourself and nervously fiddle with the jewels on your dress.

Once everyone presenter was sat, King Harrington and his parents discuss the suitors quietly to themselves so that the people below do not hear them. They seem to be disagreeing on something but King Harrington seems to be standing his ground on whatever decision he has made.

Once the bickering is over, they tell their decision to the castle staff that was placed as Announcer today. He steps forward and catches the attention of the 15 families below.

“The royal family of Forestside,” The announcer calls out. “Please step forward.”

Your parents gawk for a few moments before getting up and rushing you forward, standing at the bottom of the stairs. They await, rather impatiently.

“Your daughter has been chosen by the royal Harrington family to be his newly wed,” He says. “King and Queen, you may stay here for three days time for the wedding and it’s preparations, then you will leave your daughter here once you leave. Do you accept?”

You parents graciously accept.

The announcer nods, “We will get your settled in the visitors wing of the castle. And set off the rest of the presenters.”

Castle staff file in and lead the other families out and to their ships while some more comes and lead you three to a room in the visitors wing.

Once on the bedroom, some of your parents’ personal staff rushes in and got them settled for the night, congratulating them. And one they were settled in bed, some of your personal staff guided you to the bathroom and took care of you. They knew how scared you were and reassured you that they’ve heard some very nice things about King Harrington from the other staff of the castle. They got you settled into the other bed in the room and bid you a goodnight and that they would see you in the morning.

The next three days pass by quickly and by now you’re running on steam and nerves. You hadn’t been sleeping good.

The wedding and it’s preparations went well, and you said goodbye to your parents soon after. Your staff got you settled in King Harrington’s quarters the night after the wedding.

King Harrington, or Steve as he said for you to call him, seemed nice, charming even. He’d kept the conversations friendly and comfortable, trying to get to know you.

His knight, Eddie Munson, was nice as well. He was practically Steve’s shadow and was slowly becoming yours as well.

Both men got you settled comfortably, and about a month after the wedding is went the flirting started. Steve started it, and you only noticed when he became more touchy. And the more you noticed the flirting, the more you noticed that the men seemed to flirt with each other as well, only when there weren’t prying eyes around.

When you seemed to reciprocate Steve’s flirting, Eddie started as well. He poked and prodded. You quickly became overwhelmed with both men hitting on you practically all day and every day.

The flirting became kissing and the kissing became rather inappropriate touches, from you in private and from the men practically everywhere they could get away with it. Sometimes you were with just Steve, other times with Eddie, and other times both at the same time.

And that brings you to now.

You’d just gotten back from whatever important duty you’d personally been called to. You’d longed to be back in bed, having been woken up before the sun today. But you encountered a sight.

Steve and Eddie on your shared bed, making out. Or rather Steve sitting on the bed and Eddie hovering over him, obviously overpowering the other man as he had a hand squeezing around his neck. Both were oblivious to the door squeaking open, but whipped their heads open when the door thud shut.

Eddie’s panicked gaze softened when he saw you and he stood up to his full height. And Steve blinked quite a few times, obviously a little kiss drunk.

“You wanna join us?” Eddie asked, making his way to you. “We just barely started.”

“Oh umm,” You twiddled your fingers. “Sure!”

The king and the knight had embraced you in their arms almost instantly. They took their time with you, offering you pleasure before chasing after their own. It was well into the night before anyone had settled down.

When one of the maids had come in the next morning to wake the King for royal business, she had only smiled and backed out. She figured whatever important duty summoned the King could wait for a few more hours.

--- --- ---

A/N: Sorry for no explicit scenes :/ But the point comes across..

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #king! steve harrington #knight! eddie munson #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things imagines #steve harrington imagines #eddie munson imagines #aj posts

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liliewrites · 2 days

Text

"MY CONVICTION"

a/n : hallo! part 3 of the worship series, and i am glad to announce that this series was a success!! yay, now that it's done. i hope you all look forward to my next one about to be released next week:)) thank u for readinggg hihi:)) again, big thanks to haddy for editinggg:))

-warning/s ; somewhat religious motifs(?), NSFW, fingering. furina might be a little ooc.

-pairings/s ; furina x fem!reader

- where in; these three women worship you, their lover, when hundreds and thousands, even millions of followers would drop on their knees to ask for blessings, for mercy, for prayers - and yet for you, at your beck and call, they would do anything you ask as they kneel for you at the same time, as proof of their devotion to you.

(men and minors dni utc!)

”Mon amour.."

The Hydro Archon sighed happily as she stared at your sleeping face. The both of you lie on the bed you both shared, with her holding you in her arms. she tucked the strands of hair behind your ear for she cannot help but ponder, have you ever realized how dazzling you are? Oh, for every moment she spent with you, each one not only ingrained within her mind— but burned within her soul. How could she forget? No, for she cannot. With every script she reads, for every poem she recites, for every song that she sings, if it relates to love that she feels for you then she cannot help but yearn for you. If she was deemed the star of Fontaine, then you were the muse of her every work.

To the people of Fontaine, she is the god of splendor and justice and with it, a heavy burden comes along and hides itself beneath the flamboyant façade she puts on whenever she bears the title. To her lover however, she was no more than herself— none more than a woman in love. The only time that she can ever recognize herself, was not when she held Fontaine within her hands, but when you held her within your own. She knows that she has a duty to fulfill, a prophecy to honor, an oath to her people— but sometimes she cannot help but wish that things had gone a different path, where she could just be herself with you. She sighed wistfully, nuzzling her face in the crook of your neck as an unnerving feeling of longing sank into her chest.

Unbeknownst to the Archon however, her actions caused you to slowly awaken. You don’t move for a while, trying to grasp your senses for a moment. She only realized that you were conscious when you wrapped your arms around her waist as you let out a giggle, feeling ticklish at her nuzzling her face in your neck. “Mon amour, what.. oh, oh! I'm sorry, did I wake you up?” she worriedly pulled away from you, a feeling of guilt for interrupting your slumber.

However, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel her heart flutter at your gorgeous smile. “It is fine, cheri, I… don’t mind.” You yawned, leaning in to kiss her cheek with a wide smile. Oh, Celestia, her fiancé was both adorable and handsome even with bed hair and tired, morning eyes. However, you cannot help but noticed the melancholic stare Furina bore upon you and it worried you. “Is there something troubling you, cheri?” You ask, raising your head from her chest to take a better look at her face. The Hydro Archon seems surprised that you had seen through her, but this was not the first time you've had done so, you know her too well. Besides Neuvilette, it was only ever you who came to know her without her famous façade. She looked away, avoiding your gaze, not knowing exactly what words to say to you for she cannot admit her troubles.

You no longer press on, no longer wanting to make her feel uncomfortable or sad. So you leaned in to kiss her, causing her to be surprised once more but with a flustered expression this time. “Mon amour?” she asked, confused from your sudden shift of mood. You smiled at her, said no more, before pulling her in for a kiss. As you pulled away however, you couldn’t help laughing at the look on her face. Her cheeks a maddening red, her gaze flustered as she lay beneath you. “My Furina, you look so... baffled.” You chuckled, sitting up on top of her.

Furina was a woman of many words, but at the sight of you, it was as if she had became illiterate. It frustrated her that she couldn't find the right word to properly describe you, for your radiance was far more beyond than simple words. All you were doing was sitting on her lap with a messy button on, and you had already taken her breath away. “Mon amour...you look so...” her words laced with an obvious ache you couldn’t find the reason of, but she pulled you in to press her lips against yours and you could feel the yearning from her kiss.

Needy kisses turned into needy hands, the Archon’s hands slowly leaving your neck to settle on your thighs at her sides. you could feel her gentle caresses become needy grips, hands full of flesh, wanting to feel more of you as her sighs turned into whimpers. “Mon amour…I need you.. .” she whined against your lips, breathing heavily as you pulled away a little.

“Then take me, ma cheri..” you mumbled, making Furina’s mind go hazy with the thought of only you. She looked at you with an enamored stare with her hands fumbling with the buttons of your button up. She was way too focused on her newfound intention to please you to feel embarrassed, but you found her trembling hands extremely adorable.

With your front exposed, her eyes froze at the sight of your bare body. Oh, gorgeous, gorgeous you. She immediately leaned in to press her lips against your tummy, loving the taste of your skin. Her hand went in to grab and squeeze your hips, completely addicted to the warmth that radiated from the fibers of your every being. You, you, you– her heart only wanted you and she could only hope that you wanted her the same way too.

Whimpers left her mouth as she continued to kissed and sucked on your body, too lost in the feeling of drowning in the feeling of you to realize how your moans were slowly increasing in volume. Her lips met your ample chest, a gentle kiss. “Mon amour, I want to… I want to hear from you, please?” She pleaded, looking up at you with pleading eyes that bore into you, making you unable to say no. You answered her question with your hands finding its way around her neck, hands pressed against her nape with your fingers tangled in her hair.

With your approval, Furina had let herself loose with her desire to please you and abandoned all restraint from doing so. Her hand moved to caress your lower back, pulling you in closer to her as if she wanted you to melt into her. Her mind was only filled with you, the sounds you make and how you shiver with every touch of her hand. Gently, gently, she thought, you were none but a gentle briar to her. She felt as if you’d fall apart with one wrong touch and that was against the best of her wishes. She only wanted to make love to you, to make you feel the enamor that you’d sparked within her. Right now, she was not a god, but a slave to your rapture.

Her hand crept up to the middle of your thighs, softly kneading at your flesh. “Mon amour, if only you could witness the sight you behold, then you’d come to know the desperation that you had invoked in me.” She mumbled, not louder than a whisper as she slid her hand higher. Your breath hitching, eyes closing, it made Furina question whatever had she done that deserved to see such breathtaking wonders. Her hands tugged off your panties, wanting to uncover more of you despite the fact that you had shown more than she deserved to see. Her heart fluttered at the sight, your slick dripping down your thighs and onto her hand. To Furina, it was a blessing endowed upon her by Celestia above- no, for you were the blessing itself granted to her by Celestia, and she was more than honored to call you as hers, and to have been the object of your affection.

As if to test the waters, not wanting to startle you, she gently ran a finger along your slit. her actions caused you to let out a shaky breath, tickling against Furina’s skin. “Ma cheri, please- don’t tease...” You moaned in a pleading tone and Furina's heart couldn’t handle the sound of your begging, no, she didn’t want that. She wanted to hear your blessed sounds of pleasure, to have it ringing in her ears endlessly as you writhe above her.

“Mon amour, I’m not trying to tease...” She whined, sounding like a dejected puppy. Her fingers repeated the same motions from earlier, before finally complying to your wishes.

“See? I’m doing my best to please you…” She mumbled in a whiny tone, wanting to prove to you her words, ending it with a kiss to your shoulder. She pulled you into her, as close as she could, as two of her fingers moved in to slowly feel your walls constricting around her. she couldn’t help but let out a whine of her own at your moans, wanting and needing more of it— of you and the blessing of witnessing you.

“Mon amour, you sound so beautiful..” she whispers against your shoulder, kissing it once more as her fingers increased its speed, trying to find the perfect pace to make you feel the same delirium she feels just from looking at you.

“Ma cheri- you’re doing great, more… more...” You pleaded in her ear, your hips bucking as you found yourself wanting more and more of Furina. Furina happily complied, absolutely delighted to see you immersing yourself in the pleasure. Her fingers pressed harder against the spots she knew you loved the most, her fingers settling on the pace that she was sure to drive you crazy.

Endless moans of her name spilled from your mouth, one after another, Furina.. Furina.. Furina, you kept repeating in her ear and with every mention of her name, you held onto Furina tighter and tighter. You toppled on top of her, completely leaning into her with your face buried into her neck as you felt your whole body weaken and tremble with pleasure, much to the Archon’s delight.

“Furina- ma cheri.. I can't- I'm..”

You couldn’t even find it in you to form proper words, so Furina pressed reassuring kisses upon the crown of your head, as she was unable to kiss your face even if she wanted to. Your nails were digging into her back and she could feel it through her clothes. A little whimper leaked out her mouth but her movements didn’t falter. She kept going, wanting to see you reach your high and be immersed in it.

A loud cry left your lips as you completely reached your high, you could feel your insides throbbed around Furina’s fingers and she could feel it too. She watched you as you basked in your own euphoria, her mind capturing this moment like an eternal painting in her memories. You were far too out of this world, and as your follower, her belief in your enchanting allure remains firm and constant within her mind.

As you tried to catch your breath, Furina held you in her arms as she did before. It was only then when she realized that it was raining outside and as the fervor melted away, she could feel the cold air within the room and brush against her skin. Upon knowing that you were barely wearing anything, she immediately pulled the covers upon the both of you, cradling you against her to keep you warm.

“Mon amour, are you feeling cold?” she asks, concerned about your well being. You let out a content sigh, not budging even a little bit, just wanting to sink into her warmth.

“Ma cheri, if I may ask now, what was it that was troubling you?” You gently pry, but Furina knows she can’t tell. instead, she presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Nothing, mon amour. when the deed has been done, I promise you...” She whispered lovingly into your ears, closing her eyes as she relished in her warmth- fearing that she may never once again, but she hopes that wouldn’t be the case. “I will find my way back to you, always. Mon cheri, even if Celestia forbids it.”

You no longer questioned her words, instead choosing to trust your lover. To the people of Fontaine, she was their god, their savior— you knew that she held many secrets of her own, a world that you cannot pry into yet to you, she was your lover. She was your Furina, the silly girl you had come to love and wished to hold. The woman on stage that you wished to kiss and yearn to be with for as long as you could. Alas, you couldn’t help but sigh at the implications of her words. “If you say so, ma cheri. I love you.” You answer and Furina feels as if all her burdens were taken away with your words.

“Thank you for understanding, mon amour. I love you too…” She replied and she does love you- she really does. All she had to do now was find a way to fulfill the promise to her people so she could also fulfill her promise to you, wanting to experience more of life's greatest joys beside the woman she loves most.

#furina x reader #furina x reader smut #furina x female reader #furina genshin impact #furina smut #lilac writes💜#ugh furina.. girlfailure girlprince i love u..

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pepsiboyy · 8 hours

Text

IGNITED.

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: where you and your best friend, chris, decide to relax for the night. warnings: smoking weed, cursing, kissingg a/n: hiii i hope this is ok to keep yall FED i feel like i fell off the face of the planet but im here i promise!! very short but i hope its fun<3 love u guys

chris's tongue poked out from between his lips as he focused on rolling the joint in front of you both.

"chris, that looks like shit," you joked, a breathy chuckle escaping your lips as you did so.

chris shot you a smiling glare as he set it down. "fuck you, you'll still smoke it." he retorted, to which you had no response.

you both were sitting on the porch outside of the triplets' la home, the moonlight particularly bright tonight as you sat and conversed about various topics.

it all started with you talking about life. chris would tune in with some random bullshit he learned on tiktok, and it went back to serious mode. the conversation turned into one relating to relationships and love. something chris wasn't particularly fond of.

"i don't know, it's just weird. like i find it hard to even say i love you to people that i know i love. it's just hard."

you nodded softly. "it's hard throwing such an important word around with such heavy meaning that people think they can lift with no problems."

chris snapped his fingers as if you had just hit the jackpot. "exactly that," he pointed at you and smiled. "that's it. and probably just commitment too. taking the next step into something so much bigger than it needs to be." he muttered the last part.

"rock paper scissors for who hits this first?" chris smiled as he held out a hand, and you quickly did the same.

rock,

paper,

scissors,

shoot.

with your scissors sprawled out on your palm, chris gave you and his rock a defeated look before shrugging it off.

"okay, here." he gently placed the joint between your lips, smiling warmly at you as you took it.

"lighter," you stated, although muffled as you had the joint literally in your mouth.

chris gasped, as if he had forgotten, before going into his pocket and grabbing it. you reached for it, but failed as chris smacked your hand away and leaned forward himself, lighting the joint with a warm smile.

your eyes closed as you took in a deep breath, pulling the paper from your lips and exhaling softly. with the joint between your fingers, you passed it to chris with a soft smile. chris watched you for a few seconds before taking it into his own hands and taking a breath as well.

you both exchanged the joint a few more times before cleared his throat and spoke up.

"dude, i don't know if this is like.. stupid," he stated first and foremost, making you chuckle at him.

"chris, most the shit you say is. get on with it."

chris's jaw dropped dramatically before he giggled. "i don't know, man, i was just thinkin' like... you know all the stuff we said before about like takin' the next step," he mumbled a bit, and you watched him. chris turned to you again, smiling like a dork. "maybe we should?" he stated.

your eyes widened as your cheeks reddened. "chris-"

"but like... i know you're gonna say, 'no chris you're just high right now' but like i'm really not.." he rambled, making you chuckle.

"you're not right now?"

"not in the slightest," he defended matter-of-factly, his eyes tinged with a shade of pink as his eyelids struggled to open fully.

"chris, i.." you trailed off, your mind hazy from the drugs. you knew you felt the same, but you didn't want to ruin this moment.

"we don't have to talk about it now," chris stated quickly, or as quickly as he could, before he smiled goofily at you again. "but.. yunno.." he trailed off.

"no, chris, i don't know." you chuckled.

you hadn't even realized how close you two had been sitting, your faces inches apart, until chris had glanced down at your lips.

your cheeks reddened. you wanted this bad, and you felt like chris did. but your biggest fear was waking up in the morning to a regretful chris and a terrible rest of your day.

but all of your doubts left as you felt chris finally press his lips to yours. everything felt hazy, but it felt so right. the slight taste of the weed against his lips only made it feel more surreal, and the joint between your fingers had been long forgotten now.

chris pulled away after a few moments, his blue, lidded eyes fixated on yours before he noticed the joint between your fingers slipping. he quickly took it from you and smiled.

"there's some juice left in here," he smiled.

you looked at him and blinked a few times. "you can have it," you chuckled. "i'm starting to get a bit sleepy."

chris hummed in thought before he took in a soft breath from the joint. his hand moved to your jaw, where he gave you a light squeeze to open your mouth.

with your faces now inches apart, he leaned forward and blew the smoke into your mouth, his hand now gently grazing your jaw as he did so.

you had no idea what feeling you just felt in your stomach but you felt like you needed to go to the fucking hospital.

you breathed in the smoke he provided, smiling softly as you blew it out away from the two of you before planting one last kiss to his lips.

"let's go lay down in my room, yeah?" chris shot you a soft smile as he gently took your hand and intertwined your fingers.

and for the rest of the night, the two of you rested between one another's arms, knowing that neither of you would have any doubts in the morning to come.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #chris sturniolo fluff

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starkraivennemad · 14 hours

Text

The Family

“Hey, Little Bee! Good morning, John.” Sherlock greeted the pair at breakfast. “Aren’t you a pretty one in your colors.”

“Thank you! Look we match!” Rosie giggled with delight as Sherlock opened the box with the familiar booster pillow.

“Yes, you do.” Sherlock agreed, “Careful, don’t fall.”

Much too big for a highchair, it was still a bit awkward for her to manage sitting at an adult table without the blue and purple striped pillow just for her. Colors that matched her romper.

“I won’t.” Rosie assured him as she was sat, and a cup of orange juice placed in front of her. “Is it cold, cold?”

“Yes, Rosie.” John and Sherlock chorused from lessons learned the hard way when the usually calm Rosie was quite otherwise when her orange juice was not at the optimal temperature for her liking.

Sherlock’s hobby to refrigerate human remains with regular food was effectively cured when John moved back to Baker Street with Rosie. It requires no intimidation on anyone’s part. When a surprised John walked in to find a spotless kitchen practically overnight, Mrs. Hudon informed that it was the genius’ own choice to turn 221c into a not-so-secret lab.

They became something of a family. A family with a little girl that reminded the men in her lives how to laugh at the silly things. An eavesdropping intellectual brother who watched over them, a loving father with the occasional nightmare, a gorgeous mad genius who ran the weirdest experiments, with one godmother whose warmth helps to calm the chaos that is their lives, while the other blankets them with kindness and the needed maternal sternness on occasion - for the boys, not just the little girl.

Together they weather the ups and downs as individuals and as a unit all while learning while there are no real do-overs in life, there are second, and sometimes more, chances to get it right. Some days are fire, some nights are ice and sometimes while an apology is imperfect, intuition tells them when it’s true and not a manipulation as in their past.

Thus, that sunny morning, a nearly four-year-old Rosie, jealously thinking she was being ignored for his phone, called Sherlock Daddy all on her own. It was abundantly clear that she meant the stunned genius, her other father in her mind, who had not realized he was being addressed and not John until she pulled on his trouser leg to get his attention – empty juice cup in her hand. There was no hiding that John was equally surprised and overjoyed by the occurrence. He further added to Sherlock’s shock and joy when the doctor did not correct her. He further added to Sherlock’s shock and joy when the doctor did not correct her as he reminded Sherlock that Rosie only addressed John as Papa. He simply grinned to see the pleased smile on Sherlock’s turned face and the tinge of pink on his ears and then turned away as though nothing unusual happened as Sherlock picked up the little girl who from that moment on became their daughter.

So, no one, absolutely no one, was surprised when the dynamic duo, who made a family of the covenant, then took the next step on their heroes’ journey, with and during Pride, by also becoming a family of the blood.

--------------------

Comment on AO3

@calaisreno @MayPrompts2024

#MayPrompts2024 - Prompt: All 31 of them in list order.

Much thanks again to @calisreno for a wonderful month of prompts. Looking forward to next year.

#may prompts 2024 #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #john watson #rosie

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triptanite · 5 hours

Text

Speak to me

certified Rolan enjoyers come gather n look at my sneak peak/wip (please)

not certain I'll continue this one but I haven't ruled it out

Pairing: Tav X Rolan (reader X Rolan) (you X Rolan) (y/n X Rolan) (I don't like using the y/n format personally so you won't see that in my writing, but I know from experience ppl will dig through every relevant tag for content when they want it lol)

Content warning/s: mild references to physical abuse (not graphic or detailed)

MASTERLIST

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

You could see him now, eyebrows furrowed as he mimicked his learnings alone in his private quarters. He would be muttering curses at himself at his mistakes, bolstering with confidence at his successes. You hoped he was eating well, sleeping well. You couldn't wait to see him in action. You couldn't dream that the next time you saw him he would look like this.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

You reach up, hand outstretched to investigate the purple blooms on his face. Rolan's breath catches. He doesn't want you to think of him like this, to worry, to pity. He can vaguely see his own reflection in your glossy eyes, pupils darting frantically with equal parts concern and confusion. You'd been so very thrilled to hear about Rolan's succesful immersion in the apprentice world. You thought fondly of him during quiet moments on the road. You imagined him slicking back his hair neatly every morning, straightening and adjusting his robes one hundred times, listening intently, learning eagerly. You could practically hear the pride in his voice as he boasted to Cal and Lia about his newest incantation. You could see him now, eyebrows furrowed as he mimicked his learnings alone in his private quarters. He would be muttering curses at himself at his mistakes, bolstering with confidence at his successes. You hoped he was eating well, sleeping well. You couldn't wait to see him in action. You couldn't dream that the next time you saw him he would look like this.

Your touch grows closer, painfully slow. You're giving him all the time in the world to signal you to stop but he can't quite find the right words to say it.

"Please..." He brings his own hand up to grab at your wrist, using so little force it's almost negligible. The tips of your fingers ghost over a faded bruise, one you wouldn't even notice unless you were looking for it.

"Please don't." He finally forces the words through. He swallows, feeling like his mouth is full of sand. He meant to sound firm, polite, collected; the greatest arch mages have fought and won bigger battles than simple backhands - he would too. But like the loose grip of his fingers, he falters, and it comes out in a low whisper. He sounds like he's confiding a deep secret to you in a quiet library. If he speaks too loud, he speaks the truth into existence. He confesses. He admits. Rolan is worryingly quiet in this moment. His typical boisterous confidence is snuffed out; not entirely gone but smothered by something anxious and withdrawn.

Silence stretches out as you search his eyes for explanation. You don't want to utter the questions, you can just about guess the answers. You plead at him with your gaze, but his dulled, golden stare gives away just as much as his mouth does. Your hand is frozen in place, still just a whisper away from the skin at his cheekbones. He doesn't make any moves to push you away. A gentle warmth emanates from his palm, and he doesn't move to unhand you either. You're both stuck, each willing the other to understand.

"Rolan."

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

sorry rolan but I like my blorbos suffering a little bit :///

it's okay though we skip forward in time to tav casting These Hands on Lorroakan

tani notes 952 2/06/24 1105 (ignore this it's just for me)

#bg3 #tanitalks #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #baulders gate 3 #rolan #bg3 rolan #baldurs gate rolan #rolan x tav #rolan x reader #rolan x you #rolan x y/n #taniwrites #first draft we die like men

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waterfire1848 · 3 days

Note

Azutara number 29 please 🥰

Thanks for the ask @gold-fire!!!

29. going away to war au. My apologies that this one is a little shorter. I really wanted to capture this fleeting moment Azula and Katara could have before they both had to...well go away to war.

Katara rolled over in her bed. Her fingers gently pressed against the Earth Kingdom royal green colors on the blanket and her head was resting against a darker green pillow. Spirits, she hadn't enjoyed peace like this in months. The wind was gently pressing against the windows, there was a soft sound of people talking out in the streets and, the best part, her secret girlfriend was fast asleep next to her.

Azula's black hair was spread all over her pillow. Her side of the blanket went up and down as she released gentle breaths. Anytime the two managed to find an opportunity to spend some time together, Katara noticed that Azula slept in more than other firebenders. From what she heard, firebenders rose with the sun but Azula was usually the last one of them to wake up. Maybe it was because she felt safer and more at peace with Katara. Well, at least, Katara hoped that was the reason.

"Morning." Katara whispered.

"Morning." Azula smiled, rolling onto her side, "How'd you sleep?"

"Amazing. I think I crashed after our secret dinner which was delicious by the way."

"Thank you." Azula said.

"I think the chef deserves the thanks." Katara let a small laugh escape her so Azula knew she was only joking.

"How do you know I didn't make it?" Azula asked.

"Princess raised with more servants than I could count? I'm thinking you didn't cook our meal last night."

"It's very rude to assume things, Katara." Azula said, sitting up in the bed.

"You're right. I shouldn't have assumed. Did you make our dinner?" Azula looked around the room, anywhere but Katara.

"Well, no." Katara giggled, "But you still shouldn't assume. I can cook just as well as any chef." She argued.

"I'll hold you to that next time we see each other."

"I look forward to it." The two shared a quick kiss before Azula got up and walked behind a room divider to change her clothes, "Katara? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." Katara perked up when Azula left the hidden view of the room divider, taking a seat at her dresser and brushing her hair, "Where do you see this...leading?" Azula asked. She couldn't see the waterbender but she could hear her walk closer and closer to her and, for Azula, that was somehow worse.

"What do you mean?" Katara asked.

"This. Us. I'm in the city. I'm going to-" Katara stopped her from talking.

"Remember? No talking about the war. Azula, I really, really like you and I don't want this to end yet. Can we, please, just pretend the war doesn't exist for a while longer?" She begged.

Azula just stared into Katara's wide blue eyes that were pleading with her to agree. The same blue eyes she feel in love with back in Tu Zin, the ones she looked at while they danced in an Earth Kingdom village away from their teams, the blue eyes that made Azula feel so safe.

"Then can you help me with my hair?" The princess asked, handing Katara the brush.

"Of course." Katara began brushing out Azula's long black hair, "You know you should learn to do this for yourself." Katara said.

"Why would I need to when I have you around?"

"Wouldn’t it hurt your reputation if people found out you don’t know how to do your own hair?” Katara put the brush down and grabbed a hair tie.

“I have a feeling enemies of the Fire Nation have more things to worry about than whether or not I know how to do my hair.” Azula said, inspecting her nails.

A smirk formed on Katara’s lips, “So, you’re okay knowing I know how to do something that you don’t?” She asked.

“Katara, unlike my brother, I don’t get mad over every little thing. I’m perfectly content with-“

“Knowing that Sokka knows how to do a top knot and you don’t?” Katara asked.

Azula froze. Had she been a waterbending, Katara is pretty sure she would have frozen the vases in the room with just her look.

“What?” Azula turned towards her girlfriend, her hair only half done.

“Sokka knows how to do a top knot. He learned while we were in the Earth Kingdom and he’s pretty good at it.”

Azula’s glare turned deadly, “Your brother, that peasant, knows how to do a topknot better than me?”

“What’s the matter? You were fine when I knew how to do it and you didn’t.” Katara smirked.

Azula launched out of her seat but Katara was far from scared or worried. She was actually holding back laughter.

“That was you! You and your brother are different-“

“Thanks, sweetie.”

“I refuse to not know something that idiot knows!” Azula declared.

“I mean, Sokka is incredible smart-“ Maybe Katara shouldn’t have just told her stories of Sokka being an idiot. Even if they were a great way to break the ice between the two when they started dating.

“I refuse!” Azula yelled. She gathered up all her hair supplies and sat back down at the mirror. Katara’s half done work caused her hair to fall into her face. Azula pushed her hair back and brushed it out.

“Then you wrap it up into a tight ponytail.” She mumbled.

“Good.” Katara nodded, assuring her she was on the right path.

To her credit, Azula did get pretty far. She was in the process of wrapping her hair around her hair tie, the second to last step, when he hand got caught in the tie. A couple of times.

“Do you want me-“

“I can do it.” Azula said, “If Sokka can learn then so can I.”

“Azula-“

“No. I can do this!” Azula argued, “Look! See!” It wasn’t done. They both knew it wasn’t. The hair was lumpy and Katara was 90% certain it was pulling on her scalp in some places. Still, Azula refused to let her smile fade.

Without a word, Katara picked up the brush and undid Azula’s hair. Azula didn’t say a word against Katara’s action.

“Can I tell you a story?” Katara asked.

“Go ahead.”

“When I was younger, my mom did my hair all the time. I used to hate it so much but in the South Pole you need to keep long hair up so it doesn’t get in your face. I told my mom how much I hated it, so she told me to try doing it myself the next day. In all my five year old genius, I told her I could do my hair just as well as she did every morning.” Katara let out a small chuckle as the ending of the story made its way into her mind.

“This sounds like it doesn’t end well for little five year old you.” Azula said.

“It does not.” She confirmed, “I grabbed everything I thought I’d need for my hair and tried to replicate it as best as possible. Somehow, I ended up with my hair in the most spirit awful pigtails you’ve ever seen and, even worse, I ran out of hair ties, so guess what I used? The same string we wrapped fish in.” Azula couldn’t hold back her laughter, “And not fresh fish. No, I had to pick the string that was wrapped around fish that was a couple days old. It took my mom three hours to get the smell of dead fish out of my hair.”

“I would have loved to meet five year old you. You sound both adorable and insane.”

“Why do I get the feeling we wouldn’t be dating if we met when we were five?” Katara asked, “I’m sensing a very spoiled brat energy that I feel was very strong when you were younger.”

Azula put a hand over her chest, “I am offended! My own girlfriend makes such assumptions-“

“Am I wrong?” Katara asked.

“Not at all.”

The two girls laughed a little while Katara finished up Azula’s hair, “Perfect.” She smiled, hugging Azula from behind, “I have to go.” She whispered.

“No you don’t. You have to stay here with me. We can go to the Fire Nation together. We’d still have to be a secret but we’d be together and-

Katara cut her off with a kiss, “You know I can’t do that. Just like how you can’t run away with me and join the Avatar. Even though I beg you to.“ Katara was already dressed up so all she had to do was go to the door so she could sneak off and back to the Gaang.

“Until next time.” Azula smiled.

“See you later, Princess.”

Had Azula known the next time she saw Katara’s blue eyes they’d be looking at her with pure hatred (almost screaming at her that Katara know believed she was a monster just like her mother did), she would have held Katara closer, would have begged her to stay.

Had Katara known the next time she saw Azula again she’d be screaming and ranting about her mother and her, she would have begged Azula to follow her, would have savored the last few moments she had.

#azula #katara #avatar the last airbender #Azutara #kazula #send me a ship and a number and I’ll write a prompt for it

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