#and putting things in drawers that I can still see into

[authorhjk1]

could you do a how does KIOF roleplay?

Julie

At first you found Julie's roleplaying a little off putting. You're fine with a lot of stuff, but you didn't expect her to one day randomly suggest something this taboo. Julie doesn't have a brother or sister, but you're not sure if that makes it better or not. She herself told you that she knows it is weird at the beginning, but you can see how much it turns her on. How wet she gets when you call her your sister while you nail her naked body into the living room window. How her eyes glisten with lust while she strokes your cock, admiring it as if she saw it for the first time.

"Oh my god, little brother. I didn't know you had such a nice cock."

Julie liked a lot of foreplay as well, which makes the sex itself even more real. By now you can't count the times when you were just watching TV in the living room and suddenly Julie came in, only wearing the tightest crop top that showed off her naked nipples through the fabric and her lace panties, and just kneeled in front of the TV, then took something out of the drawer underneath it and walked away again. And everytime she said something, which made it clear what she's expecting you to do next.

"By the way, mom and dad are gonna be home late today."

On the weekends, Julie even roleplays early in the morning. When you're preparing breakfast she walks into the kitchen, only wearing a shirt of yours, which ends halfway down her thighs. Then, she opens the fridge and bends down, the hem of your shirt riding up her ass so you can have a good view of her wet pussy.

"Why do you always eat my stuff? You better make it up to your sister, sweetie."

Natty

Natty always had a thing for giving you head at random times since the beginning of your relationship. Sh just loved how you always looked so surprised when she either just dropped to her knees in front of you when the two of you were alone, or when she took your hand without a word in public, just giving you a wink, before leading you to a more private space.

And since she found the succubus hairband and wings while looking for a Halloween costume last year, Natty constantly roleplays as succubus. She keeps changing her outfit, but always includes the wings and horns.

When you wake up in the morning, you're greeted by her in nothing but sexy lingerie, her lips already tightly sealed around your cock. After a long day at work, you sometimes come home to Natty roleplaying different roles, while still roleplaying as succubus. A succubus school girl, a succubus teacher, a succubus cheerleader, a succubus bride who's husband is lying in the next room, already completely drained of his cum.

But for some reason, today's outfit might be your favorite. The nun outfit is obviously a sexier version of an actual thing a nun would wear, but you still catch the wings on her back and the two balck horns, which peak out from underneath her veil. Natty even put in red contact lenses, making her look even more like a succubus in disguise.

"Do you want to know what sinning feels like?"

Belle

Belle is a princess. I think that's pretty obvious. That's how she likes to be treated during sex all the time anyway. Throughout your time with her, she's tried out very different forms of princesses. Obviously Disney princesses came first. Cinderella, Belle, Jasmine and so on. But once Belle tried out all of these often enough, she moved on.

Last week you came home to her lying on your bed, the only thing she was wearing was princess Leia's custome from Jabba's palace. She offered you her leash and asked you to be the roughest you've ever been with her. Which still doesn't mean that much since getting fucked from behind while getting her face pressed into the sheets is already extreme for her. She's just a soft princess most of the time.

Yesterday you were greeted by a Chinese princess. Belle wore a silk hanfu, which showed all kinds of light colours, making her look like a spring goddess. Flowers in her hair and a big golden hairpin completed her outfit. It was authentic, so she barely showed any skin at all, but that was completely fine with you, since it made the experience even more real.

And today another princess waited for you on your bed after you stepped out of the shower. Belle as a Pharaoh's daughter, wearing a black wig a golden hairband in form of a snake and golden bracelets on her arms and ankles. Her white silk dress was incredible thin, almost counting as see through. It showed off her body's curves perfectly and you could even see a fake bellybutton piercing through the dress.

Haneul

Haneul wasn't a fan of roleplay, until she wore something more formal once. Not a dress, but a suit. She felt somewhat powerful and strong in it and to her own surprise she made you feel that during sex that night.

She still doesn't roleplay often, but occasionally, you now find yourself face to face with your strict boss who threatens to fire you if you don't eat her out, or your school's principal who threatens to call your parents if you don't show her your cock, or once even your superior officer who tells you to fuck her hard if you don't want to get dishonorably discharged.

You usually enjoy fucking and using Haneul however you want with her being a good girl, but once in a while you do like to be the one who has to do what she says.

"And now the other one."

Right now Haneul roleplays as the hot and successful neighbor, who caught you looking at her through the window. She told you she'd call the police if you didn't do what she said. So now you place her naked foot on the floor, before your reach for the other one, still in one of her heels.

[angellic4l]

nine lives - d.m

in which; derek gets injured in the field and fem!reader isn’t happy with him.

content; tw! derek has bruises from bullets, kinda graphic desc(?), nicknames (doll, sugar, ma'am, etc,), cocky!derek x annoyed!reader, inaccuracies i’m sure but who cares, derek's abs, jj cockblocks(?) i suppose.

a/n; @darkmatilda requested this everybody say thank you matilda! i’ve been slacking w posting but my wips hate me apparently. kisses! wc: 1.9k

A sickly feeling still resided in your stomach. Your head was throbbing with the constant bombardment of ‘what if?’ and a million ways the situation could’ve been avoided. This and the three distinct crashes of go bags hitting oak desks, similar to that of three gunshots - at least in your addled brain - were enough to tell you that the irritation that’s been brewing was definitely still residing.

He’d been hurt in the field.

The thought almost made you gag, the anger overpowering, consuming every part of your body until you did something about it. It felt like it was begging you to purge it, cleanse it from your body, and god did you want to. However, the more logical part of you knew that throwing up wouldn’t make the frustration go away, wouldn’t stop the onslaught of worst case scenarios in your mind’s eye. The only thing it would serve for is making you feel even worse.

Opening one of the wooden desk drawers, you take out a water bottle and guzzle almost half of it down. In the midst of all of the stress and chaos, water was the least of your priorities. From across the room, a pair of eyes can be felt tracking you, watching each and every move you make. Against your better judgement, your head snapped up to see who it was.A futile action; you had already known that it was Derek staring at you but, since the incident, you’d made it a point to avoid him. Unfortunately for you, instincts had taken over a few moments ago and now the awkward jet ride had been in vain.

Realistically, you were aware that being mad at somebody for getting shot at wasn’t particularly logical, but you couldn’t help it, and so you’d kept your distance from Morgan. In place of your usual banter on the jet was an unusual silence, your ears were void of the usual 90’s hip-hop/R&B that came with him sharing his headphones with you, and he wasn’t warming your side with his usual presence because you’d sat away from him.

Familiar voices snap you both out of the staring contest that had started to ensue, your mind quickly recognising them as Reid and Penelope’s.

“He what?” Penelope gasped, manicured hands slapping over her mouth instantaneously.

In response, Spencer’s face had fallen flat, lips pressing into a thin line, signalling he’d probably just let something slip that wasn’t already common knowledge. Clearly, he’d just accidentally informed Penelope about Derek’s incident out in the field.

“Reid,” Morgan chided, before turning his attention to the blonde who stood in front of him now, “Baby girl, I’m okay. See? Still alive and breathin’.”

“But you… And the… Oh God,” Penelope stopped and started, trailing off before starting another thought. Whether it was because she was overwhelmed by the news or didn’t want to say the words out loud, you weren’t too sure.

Watching the whole ordeal from your desk only intensified the completely unreasonable anger you felt, tongue poking the inside of your cheek. Derek’s soothing murmurs to Penelope faded into the background as the different outcomes of today played in your head.

Derek had been shot at, standard for a field agent of course, but the bullets had hit him. If it wasn’t for his vest, he would be in the hospital right now. All because he’d taken a chance and trusted a deranged psychopath to put down his weapon at the hands of the FBI. God, the overwhelming urge to smack some sense into Derek Morgan only grew as you thought about the situation, how he hadn’t waited for back up, how he’d lowered his weapon without so much as an ounce of hesitation.

The opinions you harboured on the matter weren’t fair; you weren’t there, you don’t know what had actually happened, however any and all logic was proving to be out of depth in the cauldron of agitation that had been brewing since you’d been told what had happened. You knew that it wasn’t fair to blame him. You also knew that this response definitely came from fear rather than actually being mad at him, but acknowledging that meant opening up the door for something else entirely. Some things were better left untouched, in your opinion.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Based on the terribly sluggish nature of everybody’s movements and the slow ticking of the clock looming over the room, it was obvious that nobody wanted to be at work. In full fairness, it wasn’t usual to stay at the bureau after returning from a case, but the case had wrapped up quicker than expected. Hotch had announced on the jet that Strauss had ‘asked’ if it were a possibility. You figured it was to make up for the hotel rooms they’d prepaid for, what with the new budget cuts.

After what felt like the umpteenth time you’d caught yourself staring at Derek and watching him wince in pain, you chewed the inside of your cheek while standing up and making your way over to his desk. The bullpen was free from the team; Hotch and Rossi were in their offices, as was JJ, Reid was off in Penelope’s ‘lair’, and Prentiss was in the kitchenette making coffee. By the time you’d reached Derek’s desk, you were sure you’d be missing half of your cheek with the vice-like grip your premolars had on it.

Once you were fairly certain that opening your mouth wouldn’t be followed by an onslaught of swear words or beratement, you spoke to Morgan for the first time in hours.

“Come with me.”

“You tryin’ to kidnap me, doll? If you want me that bad, you can just say so,” he teases, attempting a soft snicker at his own joke before wincing in pain slightly.

“No. Just stop being cocky and listen for once, Derek.”

For a few moments, he leaves you standing in front of his desk, waiting for a response, and feeling like an absolute idiot. Finally, he gives you a look - accompanied by a small shrug of one shoulder - that simply reads as ‘touche’ and then he’s rising from his seat. Schooling your expression to keep it impassive as you turn to lead the way, silently relieved that he’s actually cooperating with you, you remain silent as you keep walking with Derek behind you.

Just down the hall from the bullpen and the other offices the BAU consists of, there’s a small, beige, forgotten infirmary room that nobody ever uses for its original intention. That changes today, you suppose. As Derek shuts the door behind himself, he opens his mouth after taking in the secluded room and the examination table that could double as a bed, but you beat him to it.

“Sit down, Morgan.”

“Sugar, you are desperate for it, huh?”

“Sit. Down.”

He raises his hands in mock surrender, “Yes ma’am,” before sitting on the bed of green plastic covered with a thin sheet of paper.

With Derek finally sat down, you open one of the dusty cupboards and pull out one of the 15 (you counted them once) first aid kits in there before turning back to face Morgan and placing it to the left of him. Unclipping the green, plastic case and opening it up causes one of Morgan’s eyebrows to raise.

“What’s that for, sugar?”

“You. I know you’re in pain and not saying anything.”

Your tone is firm, facial expression showing nothing but exasperation with him so, he relents with a sigh before grabbing the hem of his grey t-shirt and pulling it up so that you can tend to his wounds. At the sight of his bare skin, abs exposed to you and all, your heart rate picks up and the room feels like it’s getting warmer by the minute.

“Stupid decision, by the way,” you add in a murmur, praying to whatever is out there that he can’t tell how much his chiseled torso is affecting you.

“Mama, I’m just fine. Really,” he insists, but you’re already digging through the first aid box.

Remembering what he’d been told to do by paramedics, to keep the bruises cool and wrapped, you reach for one of the ice packs in the first aid kit. Before activating it, your hand hesitantly moves towards the wrapped section of his midriff to expose the bruised skin beneath it.

Morgan hisses slightly when your finger brushes a bruise rather than the white cloth, the sound causing you to retract your hand as if he had hurt you and not the other way around. You mumble a small sorry and return your attention to the ice pack next to him, picking it up and activating it with a cracking noise.

“This gonna hurt?”

“Not as much as getting shot at.”

“What was that for?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

By now, you’re pressing the ice pack lightly to the area of injury, barely any space between the two of you as he sits on the examining table with you standing in between his legs. Your gaze finally meets his - probably a good thing, you conclude, because staring at his abs any longer might’ve made you melt - eye contact unwavering.

“Don’t play that game with me. Since I got shot, you’ve been acting differently. Avoiding me, sitting away from me on the jet, hardly even making eye contact with me, this weird hostile attitude. Why?”

“Because, Derek, you got shot at and it was stupid. You should’ve been more careful.”

“Sugar, I know you don’t believe it was my fault I got shot,” his tone softens, “What’s really going on up there, hm?”

His finger lightly taps on your forehead, again reminding you of just how close the two of you are to each other, because you didn’t even see his arm move to do it. Both of you are yet to disturb the intense eye contact happening, eyes boring into each other’s - his searching for answers in yours, yours seeking relief in his.

“I shouldn’t have been mad at you for getting shot at. I’m sorry.”

“I just wanna know why, doll.”

“You scared me. A lot,” you admit in a whisper, fighting the urge to bow your head and nuzzle into the top of his chest.

Instead, you keep your head level as the both of you stare at each other, your hand still pressing the ice pack to his lower midriff during the interaction. Visibly, his face softens with your admission, and then his lips curve into a barely there smirk.

“Yeah? You care about me, sweetheart? Awh,” he teases.

“Seriously. You don’t have nine lives, D, you can’t risk losing this one.”

“Yes, ma’am. I am so sorry for forgetting that I’m not a cat.”

“God, you can’t ever be serious, can you?”

“Hard to be serious when there’s a pretty woman tending to my wounds, angel.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you mutter and let your eyes drop to his abs between you, momentarily distracted.

“See something you like?”

As you go to reply, lips slightly parted - though the words that should’ve come out hadn’t even fully formed in your head yet - the door swings open to reveal one Jennifer Jareau. Morgan turns his head slowly to look at her while you whip your head to the right so fast it could’ve given you whiplash.

JJ’s face contorts with confusion, you presume it’s because she only expected to find you in here - and certainly not extremely close to Morgan with your hand resting on his midriff.

“I’m so sorry. I’m not interrupting something, am I?”

“No, Jayje, you’re okay,” you reassure her.

“Hotch needs everyone in the briefing room.”

“We just got back,” Morgan grumbles.

“He said it was urgent. I’ll uh, let you two… finish up,” the blond says quietly, giving the two of you an awkward smile, and then closing the door behind her.

[thekhloediary]

If You Were Here

Nicholas Chavez x Reader

When he’s away, that doesn’t mean you can’t still play

Happy Saturday! More Nic smut because can we ever really get enough lol I appreciate all your comments, likes, and reblogs. Enjoy! -Khloe 💋

I was wearing his t-shirt. My favorite one of my boyfriend’s that always made me feel closer to him when he wasn't here. Nicholas was away filming a movie, and I was missing him like crazy. The soft fabric of the shirt against my skin was a familiar comfort. It had been a month since I last saw him. Well, in person, that is. FaceTime had been our way of seeing each other and staying close, even though we were miles apart. It didn’t compare to having him here with me, but it was the next best thing. It was the closest we could get to each other without being in the same space.

I sat in front of my MacBook, awaiting his voice and handsome face to fill my screen. Lip gloss and his shirt, that’s all I was wearing. Keeping things fun and interesting kept the spark alive—that never ending feeling of excitement, attraction, and connection. Luckily, for Nicholas and I, our spark hadn’t faded. Sure, it got hard missing each other, but FaceTime made the distance easier.

I missed him so much, and there was nothing more I wanted than to feel him on me and in me, but since I couldn’t have him physically, I had to make do with our calls and my thoughts. I let my hand drift down my body, imagining it was his.

“Already started without me?” I heard Nicholas say as we connected to FaceTime.

“Hey, baby, I missed you.”

“Me too. What are you up to?” he asked with a knowing smirk.

“Oh, nothing,” I teased. “Just thinking about how fucking hot my boyfriend is.”

“Oh, yea?”

“Yea, he’s so fucking hot.”

He smiled. “You’re fucking hot, babe. Look at you. I like your shirt.”

“This?” I asked playfully as I ran my hand over the fabric of his t-shirt and gave him a teasing smile. “How about what’s under?” I crossed my arms, grabbing the bottom of the shirt at each side, and slowly pulled it up over my head.

“Fuck, yea,”

I moved closer to the screen to give him a better view. My hand drifted down and over my breasts, making my nipples tighten. I bit my lip as I rubbed and gently pinched them.

“I miss you so bad.” he told me, making my heart warm and my pussy ache.

“You have no idea.”

“Tell me how much. Tell me what I would be doing if I was there right now.”

“If you were here…” I started in a low, breathy voice, keeping eye contact. “You would grab my tits like this,” I gave them a gentle squeeze. “And then your tongue would taste my nipple before you took it into your mouth. You would suck it gently just the way I like it, and your tongue would feel amazing.”

“I bet you’re so wet right now.”

“I’m always so wet for you,” Just then, an idea crossed my mind. “Hold on, baby. I have something fun for you.” I reached over to my nightstand drawer, and when I was back on the screen, I held a vibrator in my hand. My pretty in pink, tried and true, thrusting rabbit. We’d had a lot of fun together, whenever Nicholas was away.

Now, he was invited to the party.

Nicholas grinned at me. He knew the night was about to get even better from here. With our eyes locked, I spread my legs and placed the tip of the vibrator against my clit.

“Look at my pretty pussy. Fuck. I miss her.” he groaned audibly at the sight. I was already so wet. Just like I had told him. Just like he knew.

But I wanted him to see.

“Let me tell you what you would do to her,” I turned on the vibrator, the sensation hitting me instantly like a bolt of electricity. “You would put your thumb on my clit and you would rub it. Around and around. Slowly at first. Then you would pick up the pace. You would put a finger inside me. Then two. Mmm. I’m dripping all over your fingers.” I moaned and closed my eyes as the toy went to work.

Nicholas watched as I pleasured myself, his body quickly reacting in response. He had watched me touch myself before, but never with a toy, and as he looked, he thought it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. From the way the vibrator was pressed against me to the way my hips bucked at the pleasurable sensations, he was turned on and getting harder by the second. He reached down and wrapped his hand around his dick, his eyes locked on the screen and ears perked as moan after moan escaped me.

With each rise and fall of his hand as he started long, slow strokes, my excitement grew more. I could feel the heat coming through the screen as we made eye contact and watched each other please ourselves.

“Mmm. That’s so hot, baby,” I moaned. “You’re so hard. I wish I could feel it.”

I moved the vibrator down to my wet hole. “If you were here…you would slide it in until I felt all of you. Then you would slide it out and ease it back in slowly. It would feel so good. Then you would fuck me. Long, deep strokes just how I like it.” I gasped as I pushed the toy inside me.

I moved the vibrator in and out, imagining it was him. One press of a button, and the setting changed, the toy now thrusting inside me. “Oh my god, fuck…”

As Nicholas watched me almost come undone, his dick was even harder now. Throbbing. Begging for the release his hand was working towards. “If you were here…” His hand moving faster. “I would fuck you so hard and you would take it like the good little girl you are. You’re a good girl, right?”

“Mm hmm,” I was breathing harder now.

“Tell me how good you are,”

“So good, baby. I would tell you to make me cum.”

“I would, but only if you asked nicely.” His grip tightened as he felt the pressure building.

“Can you make me cum, Nic?”

“Good girls say please,”

“Please, make me cum,”

He was stroking at full speed now. I felt my muscles begin to contract around the vibrator and my breath hitched as the sensation became overwhelming. I let out a string of breathy moans.

I was close.

He was too.

In and out went my vibrator.

Up and down went his hand.

Faster.

Harder.

Almost there.

Don’t stop.

“Oh my god, baby,” I whimpered. The vibrator was thrusting relentlessly inside me, pushing me fast towards the edge. My breathing became irregular and my mind went blank as I fucked myself senselessly.

I was at the peak.

Then, I looked at my screen and locked eyes again with Nicholas, who I wished was this pink rabbit inside me, and he gave me a look that said only one thing—cum for him.

And so I did. Right in time with him as he let out a long, aggressive groan and his dick spilled. I watched as spurt after spurt of his milky, white release shot from the tip like a volcanic eruption. It was fucking hot and just about sent me over the edge again.

“Fuck,” Nicholas breathed a sigh of contentment. He looked up at the screen to find me watching him with a satisfied smile.

“That was hot, baby.” I said, still a bit breathless.

“Damn…I really needed that. Thanks, babe.” he returned my smile.

“Anytime,”

“Tomorrow?”

I laughed. “Okay. I’m gonna go take a shower now and think of you while I’m in there.”

“Wish I could join you,” he made a puppy face.

“Me too. Soon enough,” I blew him a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, baby,”

As our call ended, I smiled to myself. We were miles apart, yet closer than ever.

[rosystained]

lovesick

i'll just sleep until i fall dead to the memory of your lips (laufey - lovesick) or jiung can never get enough of kissing you

˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ jiung x reader

˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ 0.8k words, fluff, established relationship

˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ warnings: pet names (for reader: baby; for jiung: ungie, ji), kissing, shy jiung <3

Jiung stands at the mirror, smoothing out his tie. Leaning in, he glances over his hair once more before turning back to see you in the bathroom.

“Ready to go, baby?” he calls. 

“Just a second!” your voice chimes. “I just need to find my fancy perfume…”

“Your fancy perfume?” Jiung repeats, tilting his head like a lost puppy even though you’re not even looking at him. “How come? You always smell nice.”

He hears the clattering of your things in the bathroom as you rummage through the drawers. “Well you said it was a fancy thing and a hard reservation to make, didn’t you?” He thinks he can hear the little smile in your voice. “Just wanna look nice and match the occasion. You put so much effort into today.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, yn,” he says softly. “You always look amazing, y’know.”

“Thank you, Ji. Hm, I just can’t find–oh!”

With the shutting of the drawer, you stand, looking yourself over once more before finding Jiung’s eyes on you from the bedroom.

“Oh, Ungie, you look great!” you exclaim, scurrying over to him and wrapping your arms around him. The button up simply accentuates his broad shoulders and curve of his jaw in just the right ways. The world will simply have to forgive you for ogling your dashing boyfriend. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, your hand wanders over the crisp white shirt. “So handsome.” 

Jiung smiles softly, finding your eyes in the reflection staring back. “You think so, baby?”

“Oh I know so.” With another peck, you begin to pull your hands away, already turning to scan the room for your bag. 

When your touch starts to lighten, Jiung’s brain scrambles and he grasps your wrists. As you begin to face him once more, tilting your head and blinking expectantly at him, he feels his thoughts start buffering. 

“Hm? What is it?” you hum.

Well, how could Jiung explain what overcame him a moment ago? If he had to confess there was ever one person whose touch he could never get enough of, it was yours. It’s just…actually admitting it would make him squirm under your gentle gaze. 

His mouth opens and closes quietly as he tries to think of something. “Oh um…” He brings a hang to his neck, feeling the knot of his tie that rests against it. “My-my tie, it’s a bit t-tight.”

“Let me see?” You step in front of him, squinting at the little piece of cloth. With furrowed brows and a soft bite of your lip, you gently take his hand in one of yours and inspect the fabric. 

Jiung blinks, as if your expression will magically have changed in the millisecond his eyes are closed. If you keep looking so sweet, so focused on him with your pretty lips he loves to taste tucked between your teeth, so kissable, smelling so warm, like home, what is he supposed to do?  

“Oh, I can redo the–”

His fingers quickly find your chin, tilting your head up from its laser focus on his tie to him. In a swift motion, he leans in, his lips brushing yours. Almost as if it was a figment of your imagination, delicious pressure builds before Jiung jolts back with wide eyes, staring at you.

Blinking back at him, a hand still around his tie, you let your lips part, trying to put together the last couple seconds. It seems Jiung is too, his face blooming shades of pink by the second.

“I-if–” Jiung clears his throat and bobs his head back. “If you wanted a kiss, y-you could just, just say so,” he stutters.

“I—Jiung, you—I—”

There’s a timid curve to his lips as he takes the hand still clinging to his tie in his. “No need for games; I’d always do it if you asked.” 

“I—what are you—” 

Pausing, you reach up to pinch his flushed cheek. Jiung’s eyes are shy, elusive moons that avert from your warm gaze studying him despite the soft curve of his lips, and it clicks. Shaking your head, you simply smile. 

“Nevermind.” 

Your boyfriend’s eyes widen, his face now a bright shade of red. “W-what do—”

“Alright, I admit it.” Brushing a strand of his hair out of his vision, you blink softly at the man you love. “Maybe I did want a kiss. But I think you owe me a do-over; that one was way too short!”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lean in, bringing your lips to his. You bite softly, teasing the seam of his mouth with your tongue and tugging softly at his hair, and Jiung thinks he could simply melt into a puddle at your feet right this moment if you asked.

Just as he brings his hands to rest at your waist, you pull away, and Jiung’s eyes flash open to a teasing grin on your face. “C’mon, let’s go; we’re gonna be late!"

a/n: inspired by this scene from hidden love that i was reminded of earlier!

hi um i guess this is my piwonblr debut? this is the first writing thing i've been able to finish in a Hot minute so please have some mercy on me...i was originally planning to post smthn else first but it seems to be giving me some trouble and that it's gonna be a long one so this little guy first...if you've made it this far ty for reading <3

[himblebo]

Today I’ll get my life together just you wait

[bacchuschucklefuck]

What about sorcerer Adaine? It'd keep the way her parents treated her consistent because of in that case they'd see her having the easy way of casting instead of studying to be a "proper" caster

this is a great idea!! the only reason why I'm not gonna pick it up is bc I've already locked down sorcerer for kristen haha

[etherealspacejelly]

this is your gentle reminder to stop fighting against your adhd and instead structure your life around it

buy a pack of chapsticks and put one in the pocket of all of your coats and jackets because you always forget to bring one and chapped lips is sensory hell

leave important things where you can see them. if they go in a box or a drawer you will forget they exist

put any appointments or deadlines in your phone calendar As Soon As you get them. set a reminder for a week before, a day before, an hour before, as many as you need as often as you need them.

when that little voice in your head says "i dont need to write that down, ill remember it" that is the devil talking!!! write it down anyway!!

plan for down time. have a few hours at the end of every day to just do fun stuff like engage in your hyperfixations. even if you didnt get all of your work done that day, have the rest anyway. you probably spent the whole day beating yourself up for not doing what you Should be doing, so you still need the break.

if you never eat vegetables because its too much effort to chop and cook them, get the frozen or canned shit. it doesnt go off for ages and you just have to microwave it. theres no point buying fresh vegetables if they just keep going off and being left to rot in the bottom of your fridge

if you struggle to decide what to have for dinner every day, take the decision out of it. choose a set of meals and eat those on rotation until you get sick of them, then choose some new ones and do it again.

its not stupid if it works! our brains literally have a chemical deficiency. you are allowed to accommodate yourself. go forth and stop making your life more difficult than it has to be because "this shouldn't be this hard". it is hard, so make it easier.

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw

Taking one of Simon’s balaclava from the closet, inhaling the lingering musk snd cologne scent while rubbing your pussy needily on the bedsheet. He went on a short mission for a few days, and you missed him, miss how he call you sweetheart with that gruff voice, miss how he sit you on his lap, murmuring sweet nothings while his hand

sneaks pass the waistband of your panties, pinching and flicking your clit to warm you up for his big cock, miss how his veiny and sturdy arms wrap around you while you fall asleep while basking in each other’s presence.

You kiss the balaclava on where his lips should be, but that’s not enough, the ache in your chest leads you to scramble to the closet again, taking out a pair of his skeleton gloves, putting those far-too-large gloves on as you slump down on the bed you two shared again, mimicking how he kneaded and rolled the sweet spot hidden between your slick folds, until you finally reach your high, dampening his gloves with your juices.

You tuck the used balaclava and gloves deep inside a discreet drawer, welcoming Simon back home the next day. He got a crazy amount of gloves and balaclava, sure he wouldn’t notice missing a pair or two, right? You try to convince yourself, till the day you think you finally get a chance to wash those fabric stained with the evidence of your guilty pleasure, that he appears behind you silently and catch you scrubbing them.

You have no one to blame other than yourself when getting put over his knees moments later, pajamas shorts pulled down, ass in the air and whining every time he lands a light slap on your reddened buttocks.

“Think I wouldn’t notice, hmm?” He rubs the spot he just hit gently, soothing that delicious tingle briefly “How many times did you come with my balaclava and my gloves?”

You look back at him, trying to respond with the vibrating dildo deep inside your squelching cunt messing your mind. “One ti-One- ngh…” your incoherentness brings yourself another slap, this time land carefully just above your stretched cunt and on the clit.

“Say it clearly, princess, can’t understand when you’re talking in moans.” Simon rubs your skin after the soft smack again, just like what he did whenever he gives you a teasing slap, but him rolling your over-sensitive bud that just got a sweet slap, only flares up your desire and makes you unable to think straight, his fingers and the dildo occupied your thoughts as you manage to answer more comprehensibly.

“One…only one time…” Your staccato reply receives a feign pity glance from him.

“Only one time? poor girl.” He grabs the base of the vibrating dildo and thrust in and out “Look how you lube this dildo with your juices so well, love. Finally satisfied?”

“No! No…please…” You paw at the bedsheets desperately, happy that he might end his ‘punishment’ soon, yet afraid that you won’t get the thing you truly craved. “Need you, Simon, please…! need you inside”

He grins imperceptibly, though the arrogance in his heart is satiated. That’s what he wants to hear, hear you say out loud about how much you need him, how only him can fuck you in the way others can’t.

Pulling the dildo out, seeing how your cunt grabbing onto it like you try to swallow it back in, he fish out his cock, standing straight and leaking profusely from enjoying the show “No need to feel empty for the lost, sweetheart, you’ll get what you deserve now.”

Simon press the tip of his length at your entrance, looking at you with smugness within those brown eyes, and he knows it’s going to be a long night when you gaze back with droopy eyes, still coming down from the edge, with a bliss-out smile spread across your glossy lips.

[ivyues]

Friendly Fire: Stray Kids' reactions to accidently causing their S/O a minor injury

Bang Chan

Chris gasped, immediately reaching out to steady you. "Oh my god—babe! Are you okay?" His eyes were wide with panic as he carefully looked you over. When he noticed you rubbing your arm, his expression twisted with guilt.

"I wasn’t looking—I just—ugh, I’m so stupid," he groaned, ruffling his hair in frustration. Then his gaze dropped to your arm, and he let out a dramatic sigh. "You’re gonna bruise, aren’t you? I literally just hurt my own girlfriend – what kind of boyfriend does that?"

You tried to reassure him, chuckling softly. "Chris, it’s fine. It was an accident."

But Chris, still looking at your arm, was clearly having trouble letting it go. He stepped closer, lowering his gaze with a mixture of guilt and curiosity. "No, seriously. Let me see it," he said softly, his voice suddenly tinged with concern. He gently cupped your arm and lifted it so he could inspect the spot where the small bruise was starting to form. "It looks... pretty bad, huh?"

You gave him a small smile. "It’s not that bad, really."

Over the next few days, Chris becomes obsessed with checking on the bruise. Every time you roll up your sleeves or he catches sight of it, his face immediately drops. His expression fades into one of pure regret, his brows furrowing as if he just got reminded of the worst thing he’s ever done.

"Ah... it’s still there," he mumbles, almost to himself, his lips pressing into a guilty pout.

"It’s fine, Chris," you reassure him, but he just shakes his head dramatically.

"Fine? Fine?! Look at it!" He gently takes your arm. "It’s so dark—I knew it was going to bruise badly. I swear, I have to be more careful with you…"

He sighs deeply, rubbing his face with his hands before looking at you with the saddest puppy eyes making sure he's the gentlest with you from then on.

Lee Know

You were reaching for a spoon just as Lee Know went to shut the drawer. Before either of you could react, the drawer shut on your fingers. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you quickly pulled your hand away, wincing at the sting.

Lee Know’s eyes widened in immediate shock. "Yah!" His voice was sharp, but his hands were quick, grabbing your wrist to inspect the damage. "Why would you put your hand in when I was closing it?" His brows furrowed in a mix of frustration and concern.

You pouted slightly. "I didn’t think you’d close it that fast…"

He let out a sigh, shaking his head before pulling you towards a chair. "Sit. Now." His tone was firm. He quickly went to get an ice pack, muttering to himself about how reckless you were.

Returning, he carefully pressed the cold pack against your fingers. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, softer now. "Does it hurt a lot?" he asked, his voice quieter.

You shook your head. "Not too bad."

He clicked his tongue, still frowning. "Be careful next time."

After a few minutes, you tried to get up to help him again, but before you could even take a step, Lee Know placed his hands on your shoulders and firmly pushed you back down. "Nope. You’re staying there," he said, not even looking at you as he went back to what he was doing.

"But I can still—"

"No, you can’t," he cut you off. "Do I have to tape you to the chair?”

By the time he was finished, he walked over to where you were sitting and, instead of saying anything, leaned down and rested his head on your shoulder from behind.

A sigh escaped him as he relaxed against you. "You always do this," he murmured. "Getting hurt, then making me feel bad, and then acting like nothing happened."

Changbin

Changbin had always been careful with you. Always mindful of his strength, always gentle with his touches. But today, he was distracted.

You had just walked into the room, planning to give him a back hug. He was standing by the counter, completely focused on his phone.

Just as you stepped closer, he suddenly turned, his elbow swinging and catching you on the forehead.

The impact sent a sting through your skin, and your hand flying up to the spot instinctively.

His eyes widened in horror. 

“Oh my God.” His voice was already laced with panic. “No, no, no—baby, I didn’t see you!”

You winced but tried to shake it off, offering a small smile. “Ouch. I didn’t know elbows were part of your workout routine.”

But he didn’t laugh. His lips pressed into a thin line as if he was trying to hold back how upset he was.

He gently reached up, fingers brushing over the spot he had hit. His touch was featherlight, hesitant, but you still winced slightly at the pressure. The way his jaw clenched told you he noticed.

“Does it hurt?” His voice was barely above a whisper, guilt thick.

“It’s okay, Binnie,” you reassured, placing your hand over his. “I shouldn’t have sneaked up on you.”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. Then quickly opened the freezer to grab a small ice pack, wrapping it in a paper towel before hurrying back to you.

“Here, hold this.” He gently placed the cool pack against your forehead himself, making sure it wasn’t too cold against your skin. “It might not swell, but just in case.”

Your heart melted at the way he was looking at you – soft, regretful, completely focused on taking care of you. He sighed, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your temple – careful, apologetic. “I still feel awful.”

“Don’t, but… can I still get the hug I originally wanted?”

Hyunjin

Hyunjin playfully snatched the paper from your hands, grinning as he held it just out of your reach. “Hey, let me see that—”

But before he could finish his sentence, the edge of the paper scraped against your finger.

You flinched, a sharp sting shooting through your skin. “Ow—”

Hyunjin’s smile vanished in an instant. His eyes widened in pure horror as he dropped the paper like it was on fire. “Oh my god—Y/N! Are you okay? Did I just—? No way, tell me I didn’t—”

You looked down at the tiny red line forming on your fingertip, letting out a small sigh. “It’s just a paper cut, Hyunjin. I’ll be fine.”

But he wasn’t convinced. He gently took your hand in his, holding it like it was the most fragile thing in the world. “Oh my god, I hurt you,” he mumbled, guilt heavy in his voice. “I didn’t mean to—”

Without another word, he scrambled to grab a small first aid kit from the nearby table. “Give me your hand,” he muttered under his breath as he carefully placed it over your finger.

Once it was securely in place, he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a soft, lingering kiss over the bandaid. His warm eyes met yours, filled with so much sincerity it made your heart flutter. “That should help it heal faster,” he said softly.

You bit back a smile, warmth spreading through your chest. Unable to resist his adorableness, you playfully shook your head.

Han

Han had only meant to play around, nudging you lightly with his shoulder as you walked side by side. But he didn’t realize you weren’t standing all that stable – and before either of you could react, you stumbled, losing your balance completely and landing on the ground with a small thud.

The moment you hit the floor, Han’s playful smile vanishes. His eyes go wide with panic, and he’s crouching beside you in an instant.

“Oh my god—wait, are you okay?!” His hands hover uncertainly, torn between helping you up and checking for injuries. Then, when he sees the glint of unshed tears in your eyes, his heart clenches painfully.

“I—wait—did I actually hurt you?” His voice is laced with pure guilt. “I swear, I didn’t mean—ugh, I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head quickly, blinking away the tears before they can fall. “No, no, it’s fine. It didn’t even hurt that bad.” You sniffle, willing yourself to push past the sting of the fall. But Han clearly doesn’t buy it.

“You’re crying,” he points out, lips pressing into a worried pout. “Where does it hurt? Do you need ice? A bandage? I can carry you—should I carry you?” His panic is growing by the second, now making tears of his own form on the waterline of his eyes.

His dramatics finally crack a smile out of you, and you nudge his arm lightly. “Hey, I said I’m fine.”

He blinks, then exhales in visible relief. “Oh, thank god. You scared me, you know?”

He lets out a small whine before nuzzling his head against your shoulder, his way of silently apologizing. You huff a soft laugh and ruffle his hair affectionately. “Next time, tell me if you’re about to fall over so I can not be an idiot,” he mumbles, his voice slightly muffled against your sleeve.

Felix

Felix had been playfully pulling you along, his warm hand wrapped tightly around yours as he led you through the bustling streets. His deep, honey-like laughter rang in your ears as he turned back to flash you one of his signature sunshine smiles.

"Come on, love! Keep up!" he teased, eyes twinkling with mischief.

But in his excitement, Felix didn’t realize how fast he was going. As he quickly tugged you around a sharp corner, you barely had time to register what was happening before your shoulder slammed into the hard wall.

The impact made you stumble, a small yelp escaping your lips. Immediately, Felix froze, his grip on your hand tightening before he spun around to face you, panic overtaking his features.

“Baby!” His hands were on you in an instant, gently cupping your face, eyes darting frantically from your expression to the point of impact. “Are you okay? I swear I didn’t mean to—ahh, why am I so stupid?” He groaned, eyebrows knitting together as he carefully examined you.

You laughed lightly, rubbing your sore shoulder. “I’m fine, Lix. It’s just a little bump.”

But he wasn’t having any of it. “Nope. Not fine. I just threw my love against a wall.” He pouted, his lips forming a deep frown, the corners of his mouth trembling slightly.

You squeezed his hand reassuringly, offering him a warm smile. “Lix, really, it’s okay. I know you’d never hurt me on purpose.” You gave his fingers a playful squeeze. “Just maybe don’t go full-speed next time?”

Felix sighed, but then his expression softened. This time, his grip was gentler – fingers lacing through yours with careful intently. “Let me make it up to you,” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles before guiding you forward at a slower, more considerate pace.

Seungmin

Seungmin’s laughter faded the second the coffee cup tipped, the warm liquid splashing onto your hand. 

“Ah—!” You flinched, quickly pulling your hand away as a sharp warmth spread across your skin. It wasn’t excruciating, but it still stung.

His eyes widened in horror as you hissed in pain, quickly pulling away to rush to the sink.

“Oh my God—Y/N—” His voice was sharper than usual, edged with panic as he followed you. He hovered beside you while you let the cold water run over the burn, his hands balled into fists like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, even though the skin was still an angry shade of red. You could already see the guilt settling into his features, his jaw tightening.

“No, you’re not,” he muttered, then exhaled sharply. “Come on, let’s go get it checked.”

You turned off the faucet and shook your head. “Seungmin, it’s just a little red. It’s not even blistering. You’re just—.”

He didn’t let you finish, gently nudging your shoulder. “Still. What if it gets worse later? What if it’s worse than it looks?” His brows furrowed, frustration laced in his concern. “Just—please, let me take you.”

You sighed, but the way he looked at you – so genuinely upset – made it impossible to refuse.

“Fine.”

Seungmin didn’t waste another second, grabbing his keys and leading you out, his hand hovering near yours like he wanted to hold it but was too afraid of hurting you again.

I.N

I.N and you were playfully messing around, laughing as you teased each other. He reached out to lightly nudge you, but he miscalculated his strength. You stumbled forward, losing your balance and falling onto the pavement with a surprised yelp.

The moment your knee made contact with the rough ground, a small sting made you wince, though thankfully, it was just a light scrape – no blood, just a little redness.

I.N's eyes widened in sheer panic. “Oh my god—are you okay?!” He practically flung himself down beside you, hovering over you with frantic hands, unsure whether to help you up or check your knee first. “I— I didn’t mean to— I swear! Oh no, are you hurt?” His words tumbled out quickly.

He spotted the small scrape on your knee, and his face fell, guilt washing over him instantly. “Ahhh, I’m so sorry! I was just playing, I didn’t think—” He stopped himself, shaking his head before carefully reaching for your hand. “Here, let me help you up.”

Even as you reassured him that it was just a small scrape, he wouldn’t let it go. He dusted you off gently, his brows furrowed in worry.

Then, suddenly, he perked up as if struck with an idea. “Wait! I’ll give you a piggyback ride,” he announced, turning around and crouching slightly.

You couldn’t help but giggle at how serious he was about it. With a small sigh, you climbed onto his back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He hoisted you up effortlessly, adjusting his grip under your thighs as he began walking.

masterlist

[rafeysbunny]

rafe saves you from drowning

a/n. based on this ask.

"she can't swim, top!" by the time sarah shouts at him, it's already too late.

topper has thrown you inside the cameron's pool, despite how desperately you were squirming in his arms while you begged him to put you down, really hoping he wouldn't be and ass just for once. unfortunately, the guy seemingly cannot stop being a dickhead.

you're panicking, kicking and flailing your arms in the deep end of the pool to try and stay afloat, but there's no use. you struggle to keep your head from sinking under the water, taking quick breaths whenever you are on the surface, panic clear on your face. but then you swallow some water, and as you start coughing strongly, trying to swim gets even harder

you can't avoid sinking for much longer. and when you submerge, you can't physically bring yourself back to surface anymore.

sarah's scream has silenced everyone's laughter, but no one moves a finger to help you —even though you're obviously drowning in there. no one, except rafe cameron, who doesn't even hesitate to dive into the water so he can take you out. he reaches you just in time, grabbing you tightly and pulling you to the edge; his heart is racing as he does so.

still coughing and sputtering, you look up at him, and he can see the exact moment in which your panicked expression softens in a mix of relief and gratitude.

topper approaches the two of you quickly, worried, while everyone whispers around you, looking at you like you're some kind of freak show, some of them even recording the whole thing —are they for real right now? you almost died.

"stay away from her, topper," rafe snaps at him, and the guy immediately stops on his tracks, clearly knowing he's fucked up. "the rest of you, get the fuck outta my house!"

you're shocked.

rafe doesn't pay attention to anyone but you as he helps you stand up carefully, his arm around your waist at all times. your clothes are completely soaked through, as well as your hair, and you shiver a little at the cool summer breeze.

"let's get you some clean clothes, yeah?"

when he talks to you, his voice is completely opposite to the gruff tone he used before; now it's sweet and caring. you nod in response, letting him wrap his arm around your shoulders in a protective manner while he guides you inside the house. he doesn't seem to care that he's dripping too, his entire focus put on you.

rafe takes you to his room and he closes the door behind him so no one bothers you. he gently hands you a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, which smell so, so good —just like him, and then he takes you to his private bathroom.

"you can use the shower if you want," he says, opening some drawers to grab clean towels for you. when you simply stay silent, looking at him like a fool, he adds, "are you okay, y/n?"

you hesitate, fidgeting nervously, before you finally gather the courage to speak, "why are you doing this?"

"what?" he seems a little confused by your question.

"why are you, uhm, helping me?" you ask, staring at him as he drops the towels on top of the sink to go start the shower for you.

when the water's running, he turns around to face you, his gaze so intense that you swear it's piercing holes right through you.

"isn't it obvious?" he smirks; a little lopsided smirk that has a lot of butterflies fluttering around in your belly. "i like you, silly."

more.

[alaia777]

jacked and kind?

ೃ༄ barou;

you giggled while you set your phone on the drawer in your room, you don’t know how you managed to convince your boyfriend to do this trend with you, but you did.

“alright, all you just have to do is pick me up and put me on your shoulder.”

“whatever.”

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

suddenly, you’re lifted off the ground and put on his shoulder. you start to laugh, not because of the situation, but because he’s flexing his muscles in front of the camera. you put your hands on his hair and tug a little. “you’re so corny. stop flexing, who are you trying to impress?”

the next second, you’re thrown onto the bed, and he’s leaving the room, mumbling something about how a king never tries to impress anyone.

ೃ༄ bachira;

“pleaseeeee. i promise i won’t drop you.”

“bachira, no. you’re 5’9. i know for sure you’re going to drop me.”

your boyfriend was trying to convince you to do this tiktok trend he saw. you trusted him, but the last time you tried one of his ideas, you found out he’d been using your toothbrush. you didn’t speak to him for days after that.

“i’m going to stay in front of the bed so, in case something happens, you’ll fall on something soft.”

you sigh, already regretting this, and move in front of him so he can do this stupid thing.

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

you feel his hands grab your hips as he slowly lifts you onto his shoulder. you cling to him tightly, silently promising that if you’re going down, he’s coming with you. when you catch his reflection in his phone, you can’t help but smile—his expression is so adorable, so focused.

until you feel him slowly backing away.

you squint in confusion as you see him shift his weight.

“what are y—”

before you can finish your sentence, you realize exactly what he’s about to do.

ೃ༄ shidou;

you watch as your boyfriend struggles to prop his phone up, grumbling under his breath. “stupid piece of—”

“no cursing, ryusei.”

he mumbles something about not telling him what to do, and honestly, you’d snap back at him, but considering he just woke you up to do some random trend he saw on his phone, you let it slide.

“alright, stop making faces and look at the camera.”

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

before you have time to process that thought, he hoists you up onto his shoulder like you weigh nothing. grinning like an idiot, he spins around, showing off different angles to the camera.

when the video finally ends, you wait for him to put you down. but, of course, he has other plans.

“ryusei, what are you doing now?”

he strides toward the kitchen, still carrying you effortlessly. “you’re going to watch me make a sandwich. ratatouille style.”

ೃ༄ rin;

“this is stupid.”

“you are stupid. shut up and do what i just told you.”

rin couldn’t believe he agreed to do some brainless trend like this. one second, he was watching a football match on tv, and the next, he was standing in front of your phone’s camera, looking unimpressed.

“what if i decide to just drop you?”

“then you’ll be sleeping outside in your car.”

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

for a moment, he didn’t move at all, like he was genuinely refusing to take part in your trend. but just as you turned around to give him a piece of your mind, he scooped you off the ground and threw you over his shoulder. he was so stiff you almost felt bad for making him do it, but when the video ended, he surprised you—his hand gently caressed your knee, and he leaned into you.

“don’t post it.”

ೃ༄ isagi;

you were laughing so hard your sides were hurting. isagi looked like he was on the verge of tears, all because, during this trend, you accidentally hit him in the crotch with your sole, making him lose his balance.

“stop laughing, i could’ve hurt you.”

“isagi, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to.”

“you know, this apology would’ve been better if you weren’t laughing like that.”

you wanted to go and hug him, but he seemed more focused on restarting the video. it was clear he really wanted to get this one right.

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

you sat up straight, waiting for him to pick you up again. and that’s exactly what he did. this time, he made sure your legs were far from his crotch as he lifted you onto his shoulder. when the video ended, he gently lowered you into his arms, holding you close and murmuring how much he appreciated you.

ೃ༄ i hope you guys like this one :’)

ೃ༄ also, my requests are open so please let me know if you guys have any suggestions !

[buckyalpine]

Give me drunk Bucky who wakes up in your bed, confused over why he's in the softest pj's he's ever felt and for some reason wearing a giant fur coat he can only assume is from a pimp because who else would own such a thing.

What the hell happened

Mere hours earlier; 3:30 am, Guys night

"Noooooo" Bucky howled, letting his body go deadweight while Thor continued to carry him to his room, the only one strong enough to get the soldier off the floor after he'd polished the bottle of Asdargian mead clean. "Wanna see y/n"

"Yeah, can't imagine what y/n would say if she saw you being carried off like a princess" A very tipsy Sam and Steve followed behind while Bucky's bottom lip jutted out into an exaggerated pout, head thrown back with is eyes closed in defiance "She's still off on that mission, she'll be back soon, you can see her then-

Before Steve could finish, Bucky's eyes shot open, scrambling out of Thor's arms and stumbling towards your room. There was no time to stop him from entering, a drunk giggle slipping past his lips as he let himself in and sighed contently. By the time the three men reached, Bucky's shirt had already been discarded beside his socks.

"Oh no- Steve snorted at the sound of Bucky's belt bucky hitting the floor, his lip sticking out in concentration as he tried to work at the button of his jeans.

"Barnes, I swear if you take your pants off-Damn it" Sam huffed, a pair of black jeans landing on his head. "At least keep your boxers-Oh hell nah" He ducked before Bucky's intimates became aquainted with his face. "Don't you dare helicopter that third leg-he's doing it"

No one intervened as Bucky decided to make himself more comfortable, clearly missing you as he sighed, walking over to your closet. He was in there suspiciously long before emerging with-

"Buck, those are-

"Soft" Bucky hummed, coming out of your closet with a set of pj's you wore often, oversized so they'd be extra comfy. Bucky giggled at the smell of your soft scent, slipping the shirt over his head and putting the pants on, flopping on your bed like a cat. "Smells like y/n"

"Do we just leave him here"

"At least he's wearing pants" Steve sighed, frowning when he heard running footsteps approaching along with a chaotic cackling, who else would be still this active at this hour-

"There you guys are!! We're doing body shots off of- wait you're here. C'mon capsicle, take your shirt off-

"For fucks' sake Tony"

"Where the hell did you get that jacket" Sam's face scrunched when he notice Tony's shirt was missing however he was in a large coat which he'd thrown off, the pile of for landing on a half sleepy Bucky. Bucky's eye peeked open at all the fuss, wrapping himself up in the coat and blissfully falling asleep with his face in your pillow, the rest of the chaos mere white noise.

"SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS-"

"TONY NO"

"TONY YES"

Present

"What do we have here" you coo, giggling at a very disoriented Bucky who blinks up at you with puppy eyes, a pink blush spreading on his face. You'd just returned from your mission with Nat, the entire compound still reeking of alcohol, the hallway littered with various still drunk Avenger men. The only thing that cut through the smell was the fresh breakfast a happy Thor had already started, the only one standing as if nothing had happened.

You'd stepped over a sleeping Sam and Steve in the hallway to get to your room, cocking a brow at the large mound of fur and soft snoring sleeping in your bed.

"Good morning, sweet boy" You brushed back Bucky's hair, bending down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, letting him take his time to figure out his surroundings, "have a fun night"

"Missed you" he mumbled, pulling you to lay on the bed so he could cuddle up with you, his head now resting on your chest instead. "Missed you so much"

"I missed you too, bub" You continued to gently play with his hair, happy your boyfriend got to have a night of fun and thankful that you always kept painkillers in your bedside drawer. Poor baby was going to need it. You noticed the pile of clothes that were thrown on the floor, they were definitely Bucky's but Bucky was in clothes so what was he wearing-

"Buck?"

"hm?" "Are those my pjs?"

[erwinsvow]

PLEASEEEE can u show the time where reader caught rafe punching the squishmallows that really sent me

"don't laugh, okay?" you say it softly, right outside the door to your bedroom.

"why would i laugh?" rafe’s asking seriously, but you're already a tiny bit embarrassed of what lies on the other side of the door and you're unsure how rafe will react.

"it's, like, a third of the size of your room-"

"shut up and open the door."

you sigh, turning the handle and pushing to let yourself in first. rafe follows, staring around the tiny room observantly. his eyes flicker from corner to corner, taking it in. you stand to the side patiently, playing with your hands, in particular the ring rafe had just gotten you, fiddling and twisting it repeatedly.

he walks around for a second, stopping at your bookshelf to take a look at the titles on the shelves and then moving on, staring at the photos on the wall and then sniffing a stray candle on the nightstand. he finally stops at your dresser, glancing over the lotions and perfumes littered on top to stare at the framed picture of the two of you perched right in the center, odds and ends he's gotten you in the last month scattered around.

"so?" you question quietly, eyes big.

"which drawer's got your panties?"

"rafe! shut up."

"it's a cute room. why'd you get so worried?"

"i don't know. habit." you settle on the bed, bringing your biggest squishmallow onto your lap, holding it in your arms comfortingly. rafe's still looking around.

"always had one favorite color, huh?"

"yes," you admit, squeezing the stuffed animal harder. rafe finally comes to join you on the bed, gesturing to the squishmallow as soon as he does.

"what the hell is that?"

"this is ricky. he's a clownfish. he has a career, i just can't remember-"

"huh?"

"they all have jobs and hobbies, rafe. the squishmallows. i think he's an underwater singer or something."

"you sleep with that huge thing on the bed?"

"every night. when i'm here, at least. i should get one for tannyhill!"

"don't know about all that." he takes it into his hands, moving it around, observing it from all sides. "every single night?"

"yeah. why?"

"nothin'."

the conversation changes to the books on your nightstand, and you forget all about the squishmallow resting on your bed until you step out to get a cup of lemonade for rafe.

walking back in, you wonder if you put enough sugar in, when you open the door to see rafe smacking your squishmallow with his right hook, right to his little face.

"what are you doing?!" it spills out before you can stop it, the lemonade almost falling out of your hand.

"look at the dent. how does it go back to how it was?" he questions, while you look over at him, horrified. "what's inside it? feathers, or some shit?" he looks over to get an answer, when he looks at your distraught face.

"what?"

even when he sleeps over, he's never allowed to touch your squishmallow again.

[hoe4hotchner]

Heyyy, I have a request, for HotchxReader in a established relationship, and i don’t know if you have tiktok but there are these tiktoks I watch about scenarios with a healthy relationship after a toxic one, and I think it would be really cute if you did that with Hotch or reader!! If not I totally understand!!! I love your work and can’t wait for more!! 🫶🏻

Dirty Laundry | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | WC: 0.8k | CW: Hurt/comfort I guess, trauma response, previous toxic relationship, implied abuse i think it qualifies as. Hotch being the best man ever.

You stood by the dresser, carefully folding the last of the laundry, a rhythm you’d long since perfected. Each item was handled with accuracy, creases smoothed with your fingers before you folded and refolded until the edges were perfectly aligned. It was calming, in some way, a way to create order out of chaos, to make things look perfect like they’d just been pulled out of a bag.

Aaron appeared in the doorway, fresh from his shower, wearing a washed-out t-shirt from law school and sweatpants, his hair was still damp and slightly messy. He paused, leaning one shoulder against the frame, watching you silently for a moment. His gaze softened as he took in the way your hands moved, delicate but methodical, almost like folding laundry was some kind of sacred ritual to you.

His own instinct would’ve been to hang the shirt on a hanger or toss it in a drawer, where it’d wrinkle anyway. Besides, he would iron it in the morning before work anyway, so he didn't see the big deal in folding it as neatly as you did. But you folded everything with such care, as if giving even this small task your full attention.

“Do you always fold like that?” he asked, his voice soft and curious.

You froze.

Your breath hitched, your mind stumbling over itself to process his words. Was that judgment? Was I doing it wrong?

“I—” Your voice stuttered, and you turned around to face him, holding the neatly folded shirt against your chest like a shield. “I’m sorry,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to— I can stop doing it like this if you don’t like it. I swear, I wasn’t trying to—”

“Whoa, whoa,” Aaron interrupted, his voice was low but firm, his hands already reaching out as he closed the distance between you. “Hey, sweetheart, slow down. It’s okay.”

You couldn’t stop, the spiral pulling you under as memories of sharp words and cold glares from someone else—someone from the past—filled your mind. “Why do you always do things like this? Can’t you just listen for once?” The panic bubbled up, it was hot and suffocating.

“I’ll change how I do it,” you promised, your voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to upset you—”

“Stop,” he said, his hands gently but firmly finding your shoulders. The weight of his touch anchored you as his thumbs brushed soothing circles against your arms. Aaron moved his thumbs a little harder, putting pressure into his touch as he tried to ease the tension in your muscles. “That’s not what I meant at all.”

You blinked up at him, tears already pooling in your eyes, making his concerned face blur. “I thought—”

“I wasn’t criticizing you,” he said cutting you off before your thoughts took over completely, his voice was gentle yet steady, and his eyes locked onto yours with care. “I wasn’t upset. I was just curious. That’s all. I think it’s sweet how you fold everything so perfectly.”

Your lips trembled, and you felt yourself start to crumble under the overwhelming kindness in his tone. “I just— I didn’t want you to think I was doing it wrong,” you whispered, the words fragile, as if saying them aloud would somehow break the fragile peace you’d found with him.

Aaron’s chest ached at the raw vulnerability in your voice, at the way your shoulders had tensed till you were stiff board, as you had braced yourself for some imagined backlash. He hated that the scars from your past had you doubting yourself in the safety of his home, in his arms.

“You weren’t doing anything wrong,” he said softly, pulling you into him, wrapping you in his embrace. His hand smoothed over your hair as he kissed the top of your head, murmuring against it, “You don’t have to change anything, okay? You’re perfect just the way you are.”

You let out a shaky breath against his chest, the knot in your stomach loosening ever so slightly. “I don’t know why I reacted like that,” you admitted, your voice muffled by his shirt.

Aaron tilted his head to rest his cheek against the crown of your head. “I do,” he said simply, not explaining it further—you both knew what he meant—his voice carrying no judgment, only understanding. “And I wish I could take away all the hurt that made you feel like this. But you’re safe now, with me. I promise you that.”

His words cracked something open inside you, and the tears spilled freely now, soaking into the soft cotton of his shirt. He didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away, only held you tighter, as if he could shield you from the echoes of your past with the strength of his embrace.

“Thank you. I love you,” you whispered after a moment, the words coming easier this time, carried by the steady beat of his heart under your cheek.

Aaron pulled back just enough to frame your face with his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears on your cheeks. “You never have to thank me for loving you,” he said, his voice low and full of conviction. “But I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.”

His words settled into your chest, soothing the ache you’d carried for so long.

As he leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft and tender against yours, you finally felt the weight of your past ease just a little more.

"C'mon, let's go lay down a little." He smiled, dragging you towards the bed in an attempt to move your mind away from the chores that still needed to be done and relax for once. After all, you were two to take care of the house.

[ragingbookdragon]

Whoever decided to ring her doorbell in the middle of a midnight thunderstorm was either a serial killer or a poor soul stuck out in the rain. Either way, she still felt sorry enough for whatever poor bastard was stuck outside and decided to open the door, but her expression dropped into annoyance when she saw the man leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” he murmurs, gazing at her. “Long time no see.” She starts to close the door and he sticks his foot in it. “Wait, please, don’t close me out.”

“Like you did to me,” she retorts, opening the door. “What do you want, Simon?”

He glances back towards the rainy street and hefts his rucksack higher on his shoulder. “To stay the night.”

“Seriously?”

“Please?” He begs and she pauses—Simon Riley wasn’t a man who begged often.

She gazes at him a moment longer before sighing and opening the door. “Clothes and shoes off at the door. Mask too. You’re soaking wet.”

“What gave you that ‘int? The rainstorm?”

Turning, she shoots him a glare. “I’m letting you stay the night despite you breaking my heart. I’d be a little less sarcastic.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, starting to strip his clothes as he shuts the door behind him. He hands her his clothes, standing in his boxers, then cups the front of himself and asks. “You wouldn’t happen to have any of my clothes shoved in the back of your closet…would you?”

“Bottom drawer in the chest of drawers.”

“You kept my clothes? Aw, you still car—” he falls silent when she glares at him. “Going now.”

As she disappears into the laundry room, she calls out, “What did you do, walk here from the base? You know Birmingham has cabbies, right?”

“I’m not wasting money to drive twenty minutes when I can walk within an hour.”

“You know you’ll get sick from this.”

“Wive’s tale. Can’t get sick from the rain.”

“Smart-ass,” she retorts, shoving his clothes in the dryer.

He comes around the corner, leaning against the doorway with a hand towel thrown over his shoulder, short blonde hair sticking up in all directions, evident he’d dried off with it.

“That is a decorative towel, not for use.” She glares at him. “You know that too.”

“You moved the other towels.”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” she mutters, then looks at him, eyes trailing down to where the sweatpants hung low on his hips. “Put a fucking shirt on, floozy.”

“I couldn’t find one,” he replies with a small smirk. “You must’ve used ‘em for fuel for the fireplace.”

She stands up straight and walks up to him. “Why are you here, Simon?” Her voice is quiet, calm, waiting.

He looks down at his feet, shifts his weight and murmurs, “Missed you.”

“You left me.”

“I know.”

“You start going to therapy yet?” She asks and he purses his lips.

“SAS doesn’t exactly offer therapy, y’know that, right? Not exactly ‘ow we operate.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “You know I asked that friend of yours, what was his name? Soap? He said that the SAS offers routine psychiatric care and therapy. He also happened to mention you conveniently manage to get out of it every single time.”

Simon lets out a grunt and pinches his brow. “Soap can’t mind ‘is own fuckin’ business.”

“He’s your friend. And he was also drunk.” She waves a hand. “Regardless, you haven’t done the one thing I told you that you would have to do if you wanted to come back—no, when you came crawling back.”

“I don’t need therapy. I just want a second chance.” He shifts to his full height, looks at her with a pleading look. “Things were good between us, love. You know they were.”

“Sure, when you weren’t shutting down when you were hurting emotionally or running off to God knows where when you had a mission and didn’t leave me a notice.”

Simon sighs. “I was protectin’ you. I didn’t wanna drag you into all the shit I ‘ave to deal with on a daily. I didn’t want you to have to put up with…all of…”

She gives him a hard look. “Simon Riley, what part of me gave you the notion that I ever need to be protected or sheltered from what you do?”

He swallows thickly and gazes into her eyes. “Love…you’re too pure for me. What I do…you don’t need to know the horrors I’ve committed. You’re…you’re too beautiful for such things.”

“You mean how you kill people with no emotion? How you’ve taken lives with your bare hands? How you shove so much of yourself down into the black hole until there’s no humanity left but ‘Ghost’, the hollow killer?”

Simon stares at her, throat bobbing as he replies, “I can’t drag you to hell with me, it would kill me, love. What if—”

“Do you know the moment I knew I was in love with you?” She interrupts and he falls silent. “I was sick that one day a year ago, bad sick. And you told me not to go into work, but I didn’t listen and when I came home early, I could barely walk straight.” She places a hand on her hip. “And you helped me into the bathroom. Ran a bath in the dark, lit a few candles and you bathed me. Washed my hair. Took care of me. You were so gentle and so loving. Like a priest tasked with cleaning his alter, you cleansed me and made me feel safe.”

He shifts uncomfortably but his body language is anything but repulsed; it’s soft. “You started cryin’ when I was washin’ your hair. Thought I got soap in your eyes. But you said you just felt so loved.” He smiles then. “You were like a kitten really. Could barely lift your head. So tired and weak.”

“Mhm. And then you tucked me into bed and crawled beneath the covers with me. Laid up beside me, never once acted sexual. Just…caring.” She looks at him. “Do you remember what I said to you before I went to sleep?”

“No,” he mutters but he looks up at the ceiling and she knows he’s lying, it’s his tell-tale sign.

She gives him the benefit of the doubt and closes the distance between them, lays her hands on his chest, and says, “I said, ‘This is the real man beneath all that coldness. The real Simon. The one I knew I loved more than anything. No matter what.’”

Simon shudders beneath her touch, feels weak in his knees like he might drop to his and worship at her feet, beg for forgiveness like a sinner in confession. His chest aches, tightening as the words tear violently at his chest, a reminder that he left one of the only good things to ever come into his life, all because he was too afraid to let the walls come down, too afraid to be vulnerable, too afraid to risk being hurt—because if she hurt him, he’d never come back from it. In the end, he’d felt like a fool trying to protect a damsel who never needed saving in the first place; and he was left with the realization that she’d been protecting him the entire time.

“I know what you do, Simon. I know it’s hard, even if you don’t think it is. I know that no matter how you push your humanity down into that hole that it’s still there. I know killing someone takes something from you every time but, Simon, I’m not your enemy. I love you.” Her eyes are calm, but her voice is firm. “And I will not stand on the outside of the lines under some guise of protection. You either be upfront and honest with me about everything or you leave, and you don’t come back.”

Simon knows she’s asking him to choose now, and he feels that creeping anxiety rise in his throat like bile until he manages, “Can…can we talk about everything in the morning?”

She sighs and pulls her hands away. “Yeah, I guess so. Sheets and blankets are in the hall closet. You know where the couch is.”

“You’re not going to let me sleep in the bed?” He sounds incredibly offended.

“Couch, Riley.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, but he can’t help but smile when she sets the bedding out on the couch for him. “Goodnight, love,” he murmurs as she passes, and her shoulders tense and she waves a hand.

“Goodnight, Simon.”

He sits on the couch for a few moments, watches the rain splatter against the window, the clock ticking on the wall, before he pulls out his phone and simply types, “I love you,” and sends it.

It’s quiet for a solid ten seconds before he hears, “You absolute bastard!” From the bedroom followed by, “Get in here!”

Simon gives a victory dance as he clears his throat and attempts to look innocent as he steps into her bedroom; she glowers and points to the other side. “You’re on that side.”

“You can make me,” he retorts and crawls into the middle of the bed, groaning when all the bones in his body snap and pop.

She rolls her eyes and goes back to her book, but after a moment, she shifts against the headboard, getting comfortable again. Simon lifts his head, watches her, then he moves and lays his head in her lap, his arms wrapped around her hips under the pillows behind her. Her eyes rise to the wall in front of her and she stares unamusedly at it before she switches the book into her other hand and rests her right hand at the back of his neck, gently thumbing the juncture of his spine and skull. He groans beneath her touch, shifts himself so that she has control over moving him, body going slack when she scratches her nails into his scalp.

“You’re like a cat,” she mutters, feeling his lips turn up against her thigh.

“Meow,” he mimics, and she snorts, feeling him move until his head is pressed into her stomach, face turned so she can see the right profile.

He watches until she puts the book down on her nightstand and turns into him; they gaze at each other, and his eyes gently shut when she cups his face, thumbs brushing over his features.

“You know I’m giving you another chance, don’t you?”

Simon swallows the lump in his throat and nods. “…yeah.”

“But we’ve gotta change. Or else we’ll end up back where we were before we broke up.”

“I know.” He opens his eyes and looks at her. “I’ve missed you, love.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she murmurs, bending down to press her lips to his forehead. “Doesn’t feel the same without you haunting my apartment.”

His lips turn up in a smile as she pulls back and lays on the pillows; Simon rises and crawls up her body, his nose brushing hers as he whispers, “I’ll do better for you. I’ll change. I swear it.”

“Yeah?”

His gaze turns solemn in a way she’s never seen before as he replies, “On their grave, I will.”

She smiles softly at him, pulls him down so his face is tucked in her neck, and replies, “Get some sleep.”

“I love you,” he mutters against her warm skin, arms tucked safely around her, body weight comfortably on her. “I love you more than the world.”

“I love you,” she says back, reaching up to turn off the lamp on the nightstand.

[luveline]

hi jade!!! i would love to see a poly!marauders fic where they help r fall asleep please! absolutely no pressure at all just a suggestion ofc <3

“Why so moody?” 

You rub at your eyes, standing just behind the sofa. You’d been frowning when James spotted you, not wanting to ask. “I can’t…”

“What?” Sirius asks. 

Remus perks up from beside him. 

Three sets of eyes makes it worse and somehow better. Sometimes it’s easier to only tell one of them when you have a problem, but sometimes you need all of them to know. “I can’t sleep again. Are you coming to bed soon?” 

And listen, four people in one bed is insane but occasionally you manage it. Most of the time you sleep with James, less often Remus. You and Sirius tend to be incompatible while you sleep, because he grabs you around the neck and face for hugging and you wake up with sweat pouring off of you, blind. 

Perhaps that’s why he offers first and emphatically. “I’ll come to bed with you, darling,” Sirius says, a picture of concern as he stands. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong, I’ve just tossed and turned for half an hour and I can’t take much more of it.” 

“She’s going insane,” Remus comments with a severe frown. 

Sirius helps him onto his feet. James, never one to be left out, turns off the television and gathers his throw blanket. “Not on my watch.” 

“Wait, I’m sorry. You don’t have to get up,” you say, wringing your hands behind your back. You hadn’t meant to summon them all to bed. You’d just wanted to know when you could expect an end to your agony. 

“Oh, well,” James begins, wrapping the throw blanket around your shoulders, “too late for that. Will you warm my side for me? I’ll lock up.” 

You feel shyer than you’d thought, shuffling back to the bedroom. Sirius’ hand finds your lower back as he enters the room from behind you, encouraging you gently to the side as he goes for the other. You’d left the sheets in disarray, the lamp on. James’ room is messy as always, but it’s your fault as you live from it most days. Remus is immediately put off by the overflowing dresser, closing each drawer with a shush over the runners. 

Sirius makes the bed, peeling back a corner for you. “Here, lovely. Climb in.” 

“I didn’t mean for you to wait on me,” you say shyly, embarrassed at their attention.

“There’s nothing I like doing more.” 

“He’s in a mood,” Remus says, though you’d guessed that already. “Enough room for me, too?” 

“‘Nough room for everyone,” you murmur, rounding Sirius to climb into bed as instructed. 

You and Remus end up in the middle of the bed, thankful for James’ sense of reality —everybody knew when you moved in together that the separate bedrooms wouldn’t last, but only James had the wherewithal to buy a very large bed. You’re immediately comforted by having one of them next to you, and Remus is very kind about it, asking in a murmur if he can cwtch you, wrapping his arm around your chest like you’re in danger of breaking from his touch. 

Sirius is less polite, but not less caring. If he thought you didn’t want him to touch you he certainly wouldn’t, but he knows he can hug you pretty much whenever he wants. He presses his nose to your face, Remus’ against your shoulder, the three of you deflating after a long day never quite this close to each other. You can feel a day’s worth of back ache leeching in your mattress. 

“Sorry,” you mumble. 

“Ooh, for what?” Sirius asks. 

“Making you come to bed.” 

“Didn’t make us do anything.” His breath warms your cheek as he talks. “It’s late. We would’ve been in bed soon.” 

It’s true enough. Everyone is in their pyjamas, Sirius smells like toothpaste. Still, you feel guilty for asking. And yet… you can finally relax now they’re here. It’s like they know exactly what’s been keeping you awake. Remus had cleaned and now holds your chest, Sirius reassures you and calms your stomach with his palm. 

James gets one good look at you all and rolls his eyes. “I asked you to do one thing for me. Jesus. Babe, could you move over?” he asks Remus, not giving him the time to comply before he’s in bed and smushing everyone even closer together. “This is fun. Sleepover!” 

“Just don’t start climbing on me again, Jamie,” Remus says. 

You close your eyes. “Don’t worry, they’ll chill out soon,” Sirius promises in a whisper. 

“Kiss?” you whisper back. 

Three different boys attempt to kiss you in the dimly lit bedroom. All the fuss doesn’t help you sleep, but knowing how much they care about you definitely does.