#if he doesn't fall in love with me it's OVER

[bi-writes]

*GRABS YOU* more ghoap x reader with the pregnancy right now I'm coming to your house on my knees begging praying

"open."

your mouth drops open on instinct, and you whine shyly when there's a resounding "heh heh" that follows. you close your mouth, blinking up at simon, and he hums lowly.

"wot's wrong, swee'eart?" he asks. you jump a little when a big hand cups your lower belly, and you bite your lip when he thumbs at the curve there. "i said open."

your mouth falls open again, slowly this time, and when johnny comes up behind you, you lean back at the tastes of his thick fingers on your tongue.

"she likes when 'er mouth's full," simon mutters, and you suckle on johnny's fingers. you shake your head a little, and simon chuckles. "wot, not wot y'want? y'want somethin' else?"

you nod, pressing your hands against simon's chest, and he nods his head at johnny to let his hand down. when his fingers are out of your mouth, simon leans down, and you dig your nails into his pecs when he licks into your mouth and kisses you hot.

you shiver a little when you feel johnny press up against your back. you feel the cold bite of the air when he hikes up the dress you're wearing, his big hands smoothing over the fabric of your panties. your knees buckle a little when you feel simon's hands just under johnny's--spreading your cheeks apart.

"open up for johnny," simon whispers between kisses, and you arch your back a little, your ass spread just enough for johnny to slip his cock between your thighs and wet it.

"fuck--'m no' gonnae last--" johnny chokes. "she's too pretty."

"and wet, huh, love? y'r soaked," simon murmurs. "don't remember you droolin' so much before."

"got our wee one in there, LT," johnny hisses. the tip of him slips in, simon's hand guiding his cock, and you cry against simon's lips. "makes 'er so much needier...makes 'er so...fuck--gonna come--"

"don't make me punish ya, johnny, yeah?" simon snaps. "tha's no' the rules."

"the rules..." you're so dizzy, surrounded by foggy pleasure, and simon cups the back of your neck so he can glare at johnny behind you.

"she comes first, johnny," simon kisses his teeth. "'s good for the baby."

"the baby--" you mewl, and simon brings your mouth back to his.

"tha's right, love. our baby. remember tha'? did so good for me. now open up, let him in--" simon guides johnny in, fingers smoothing against the place where you're connected, and you cry with relief when simon's fingers slip over your clit in achingly slow circles.

"gonna c-come, LT--"

johnny's never been able to last. you think he came a full thirty seconds after getting inside of you the first time, and he's only ever made it to a minute since. he's so cute--you love when his baby blues get all shiny and big and embarrassed.

"no--simon--let him--" you say against his lips. "please--please, i want it--"

johnny chokes behind you. he squeezes your ass hard, digging his fingers in, and your mouth drops open when you feel him spurt and fill you up. johnny's so messy. he always comes too much, too fast, and you can hear him pant behind you as he tries to catch his breath. you can see him already, red cheeks from shyness, apologetic with those big, pretty eyes.

"'s like ya want another one," simon laughs. "doesn't work like tha'. wish it did, huh? you want another one, love?"

"i-i--"

"olways got t'be full," simon continues. "we should go again."

"mmm--" you giggle, but it turns into a sigh when you feel johnny getting hard again, still inside you, still hissing behind you as he watches you kiss his lieutenant.

"one more time, johnny. make it count."

[alexiajjk]

jungkook fic recs list (part 1) ౨ৎ

hi!! :) here’s a list of some of my favorite jungkook fics on this app. all of these authors are so talented and i absolutely love their writing! i have soooo many jk fics saved here so i might make another lists soon <3

a- angst f- fluff s- smut

series (completed)

the love prognosis by @awrkive

medical!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!(fem)reader, corporate lawyer!mingyu, rommates!au, f2l

for as long as you can remember, you've always been a hopeless romantic. the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

the cocktail trilogy by @borathae

strangers to lovers!au, diner!au, biker gang!au (a, f, s)

You always thought of your life as nothing exciting. Small town, stable job at the local diner, a roof over your head and nice friends. It didn’t take much to make you happy. But that all changes with the arrival of Jeon Jungkook, mysterious biker with dark hair, tattooed skin and a preference for leather jackets. It doesn’t take long for you to realise that life has so much more in store for you and Jungkook is happy to show you all of it…

inevitable by @ahundredtimesover

exes au, parents au, dad jungkook, baseball player jungkook (a, f, s)

You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

two point five by @bratkook

handyman!jungkook (f, s)

Who would have thought booking a handyman from an app would lead to this. Sure, you wish he’d mount you instead of just your television, but you could totally be friends. Right?

between takes by @jeonstudios

porn star!jk x f fluffer!reader, porn star au (a, f, s)

as a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he's not the only thing that's hard

chasing cars by @oddinary4bts

brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female reader, forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au (a, f, s)

when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

still don’t know my name by @dollfaceksj

mini three-shot, cybersex, enemies (s)

In which your annoying neighbor—that you can’t stand—turns out to be the person behind the online account you’ve been sexting. You still don’t know his name.

series (ongoing)

colour me in by @taegularities

fwb, fake dating, college!au (a, f, s)

Jungkook's door only opens for you when there's a barter: a trade of lust and haze. But today you knock for something more, as intriguing as it is frightening – and you hope it doesn't close his door forever.

mutual help by @personasintro

fake dating au, slow burn (a, f, s)

in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

to build a home by @soft4gguk

dilf!jk x nanny!oc / ceo! jk / strangers to lovers (a, f, s)

at twenty-eight, jungkook sees himself go from a family of three, to one of two - heartbreak never comes easy, but nothing could've prepared him for being a single parent as a result of Ira walking out on him. pain brings chaos and he's in need of help. it's only fateful that you so happen to be a blessing in disguise... in many ways than one.

oneshots

jump then fall (into you) by @writtenwhalien

cruise au, fake dating au, best friends to lovers au (a, f, s)

bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

not in that way by @girlygguk

childhood bffs2l (a, f, s)

in which you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, min yoongi. meanwhile, your other best friend, jeon jungkook, is hopelessly in love with you.

star behind waves by @taegularities

estranged best friends to lovers, vacation/beach!au (a, f, s)

With a decade’s distance between Jungkook and you, your paths cross on the same island you deemed your second home years ago. And you realise once again – the ocean can never compare to the twinkle in his starry eyes.

seven storms by @wintaerbaer

forbidden love (a, f, s)

As a young woman of considerable wealth, it has always been your father's expectation that you would marry one of the local aristocrats once you came of age. Your family's stable hand? Certainly not an option

self-care sunday by @shina913

nailtech!Jungkook, meet cute (f)

You arrive at your mani-pedi appointment to find out that your usual technician is unexpectedly out. Instead, the salon owner’s son offers to do your nails instead.

[teddybeartoji]

you and toji and shiu and his wife go out to a bar one night and you manage to snag a pool table for the four of you aaand then you end up batting your eyelashes at toji while begging for him to teach you how to play properly. he laughs and rolls his eyes but wastes no time in slotting himself right behind you, with your back flush against his broad chest, as he wraps his arms around you in order to show you how to hold the stick.

it's playful more than anything but there's still a certain warmth buzzing inside you; he looks good, he smells good, and the proximity isn't helping much either. he blows air against your ear to pull you from your thoughts and soaks in the way you laugh to yourself. you're not even embarrassed, not anymore – it just feels good to be in this moment with him.

your hips bump against the edge of the table and with him pressing his body against yours, you bend over a little. when you glance over at shiu and his wife; she's sat next to him, snuggled to his side as she toys with the glass in her hand while he's doing the same eye-roll/smirk combo that toji does and you think it's kind of endearing how they've picked up each others small habits over the years.

you push back a little and toji hisses under his breath.

"behave."

he loves it when you laugh, he really does.

the sound resonates through your body and then his and he's happy. his fingers rest above yours and you let him guide you; he whispers for you to keep your eye on the ball as he moves you into the right position – you hold your breath, you bite down a smile.

(he does the same.)

he pulls your hand back slowly, so slowly, and then pushes it forward, making the tip of the cue stick hit the ball with a rather loud knock.

you watch it roll and you watch it roll and you watch it disappear into the pocket.

he doesn't even have to see your face to know you're gleaming. but he wants to anyway.

dropping the stick, he lets his hands fall to your waist instead as he waits for you to turn around. shiu's wife showers you with overly dramatic praise while shiu sips on his drink, quietly taking a mental picture of his friend, of the way he's staring at you.

his eyes haven't been this soft in a long time. fond. and oh, how they shine when they lock onto yours.

you spin around and lock your arms behind his neck.

"i got it in!"

his hum is warm, welcoming. it feels like home.

"did you now..."

his presses his hands flat against the small of your back and then pulls you flush against him.

"oh, c'mon... tell me i did good, toji."

it's like a purr, something he cannot resist.

pushing yourself up onto the tips of your toes, you inch closer and without a second thought, he moves to close the distance. your fingers dip into his hair and he shudders when your lips brush against his. "i know you wanna tell me i did good."

how is he ever supposed to say 'no' to you?

how is he ever supposed to wipe that stupid smile from his face?

"y'did so good, baby."

[justmymindandstuff]

crushing worry - Cregan Stark x TargaryenReader

summary: You are happy and in love with your husband Cregan Stark. The birth of your first child is imminent. But something changes in Cregan and suddenly you feel overwhelmed by his protectiveness. Your husband seems to have forgotten that you are a dragon princess, you are not made out of glass.

words: 4.980

warnings: bad communication/ miscommunication, angst, arguments, domestic violence (reader hits Cregan), kind of canon typical misogyny, talking about death, talking about death in childbirth.

a/n: Reader is Rhaenyra's daughter and described with black hair// no use of Y/N// english is not my first language // not proofread// AO3

have fun and be kind 🧡

requests are open// main masterlist// hotd masterlist

You run across the snow-covered courtyard of Winterfell, snowflakes caught in your black hair, your cheeks are slightly red from the cold.

Fortunately, you are not freezing, the blood of the dragon flows in your veins, and this blood flows hot, so the cold doesn't bother you.

You are looking for your husband, Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell. A raven from your mother from King's Landing has arrived with the announcement that she will send him fifty men for the Wall. You know that Cregan will be pleased about it. Equipping the Wall with capable men is important for the security of the North and all the Seven Kingdoms.

You walk past the stables and through the archway of the inner wall, and finally, you see Cregan. He is currently coordinating the arrival of a new firewood shipment.

You can't help but have to smile everytime you see him. Your heart is full of love, sometimes you can't believe how happy you are.

When you flew to Winterfell with your dragon your task was to win the North for your mother's claim, just as your twin brother Jace was supposed to do with the Vale. But when you first saw the Lord of Winterfell, it was love at first sight. His character, kind, honorable, warm-hearted, only made you fall harder. And fortunately for you, Cregan felt the same way. Before you set off south again to fight the war, you took him as your husband in the Godswood of Winterfell. Your mother was angry after learning the news but only for five minutes, then you reminded her of her sudden marriage to Daemon and assured her that you married out of love. Rhanyra then agreed to your marriage. It was too late anyway, Cregan and you had made your vows before the old gods and the marriage was consummated. After the war was won, you and your husband returned to Winterfell. Every day you are grateful to all the gods for your happiness.

Your hand rests on the slight swelling of your belly, in a few months you would bring your child into the world. You hope for a girl, Cregan doesn't care, Rickon of course wishes for a little brother.

"My Lord." you call across the courtyard to get Cregans attention. He turns at the sound of your voice, you walk towards him.

"My Lady." he greets you with a warm smile and reaches for your hand. His eyebrows knit together. "You are ice-cold, sweetheart." he reaches for the hood of your cloak and pulls it over your head. "Go back inside."

"I don't even notice the cold," you wave it off. "Besides, I have a letter from my mother." you hold out the roll to him. He takes it and quickly reads the few lines.

"She sends 50 men and a dragon egg north." he summarizes, but his voice sounds more annoyed than cheerful.

"Those are great news." you squeeze his hand. "Men trained in King's Landing and a dragon egg for the cradle. I was already worried that Mother wouldn't allow me to continue the family tradition so far away from King's Landing, but our child will have their own hatchling and bond with a dragon, just like me and Abraxas did." you beam at Cregan. His mouth twists into a narrow smile and he nods, as if he would acknowleg the blacksmith's report.

"Are you mad at me?" you ask, a bit confused by his weak reaction. For weeks, he has been worried because just before winter, he can hardly find men in the north who are willing to took the black.

At your question, his gaze immediately softens. "No, of course not." he replies quickly, then looks around and waves a guard over. "I just have a few things to take care of, and while this news is pleasant, it's not so important that you had to show it to me immediately. You shouldn´t have come out just for that."

You roll your eyes a bit annoyed. You know that your mother's answer wasn't super important, you were just happy and wanted to share the good news with Cregan, he's been a bit tense in the past few weeks. "That didn't cause me any trouble. I just thought you'd be happy." you say.

"I am happy about the good news." he assures you once more, stroking your cheek, the leather of his gloves cold, yet you lean into his touch. Cregan kisses your forehead gently. "However, please go back inside now, it's too cold for you and the child."

You have to suppress a laugh, nevertheless you are still touched by his concern. "Our little puppy is doing well," you say and place your hand back on your belly. As if to confirm, you notice the child in your belly moving slightly.

"Don't argue with me." his voice is a bit harsher this time, it's the tone of Lord Stark. He rarely speaks to you like that. He turns to the guard, who has dutifully awaited his lord's orders. "Please escort Lady Stark inside, and make sure she stays there."

Your jaw tightens slightly and you want to complain, but you stop yourself. Cregan would be furious if you would question his authority and discuss his orders in public. Still you wrench your hand from his, spin around dramatically, and stomp back inside. Just because you don't argue doesn't mean he shouldn't notice that you're angry.

In the evening, Cregan acts as if nothing happened. You are too tired to argue, so you decide to forget about the incident in courtyard and blame it on Cregan having a bad day.

You also don't have time to argue with your husband over such trivial matters. You have duties as Lady Stark. And your little puppy needs more and more of your energy. You get tired more quickly, need more breaks. Today your bed looks much more inviting than the letters and scrolls on your desk, but Winterfell's household doesn't manage itself. Your original plan was to only answer a few letters today, but once you sat down, you just kept going, your quill scratches across the parchment, you are engrossed in your work and don't even notice how time flies. When your husband opens the door, you flinch in surprise.

"My love, what are you doing here so early?" you ask, surprised, Cregan unfortunately rarely finds time to retreat before sunset to your shared chambers. He laughs warmly and shakes the slush off his boots before he takes off his cloak and steps into the warmth of your chambers.

"My sweetheart, the day is almost over." he laughs, comes over to you, kisses your forehead first, then places his finger under your chin and kisses your lips. Butterflies are swirling in your stomach and a smile comes to your lips.

"Oh. I was so engrossed in the work," you say, leaning back a little in your chair. Cregan laughs warmly again as he lays down his sword and takes his place at the fire. He pours himself and you a glass of wine.

"Why are you working here?" asks Cregan, he doesn't like it when you sit here and word. The private chambers are not for work he often says. At the sound of his father's gentle voice, the child in your belly moves and kicks vigorously. You exhale heavily to ease the pain, but the joy of the life under your heart and the firm kick is far more greater than your pain, so you don´t mind. You place your hand on your belly. When you look back at Cregan, he has slightly raised his eyebrows, looking at you with concern.

"I swear I just wanted to write a letter to my mother, but the Maester came and brought me the books I needed, so I thought I'd save myself the trip." you shrug, stand up a bit awkwardly, and want to go to Cregan to at least spend the last hours of this day with your beloved. Another strong kick from your child makes you stop and lean slightly on the table. Cregan is on his feet, the chair scrapes across the stone floor as his suddenly move, and you grimace slightly at the sound.

"Is everything alright?" his voice sounds tense. Quickly, you give him a smile.

"Yes. Your child only kicks like a wildling." Cregan starts to laugh, even though the worry doesn't completely disappear from his face. In the past few weeks, that has never happened. He has been walking around with that serious expression all the time. It annoys you a little. Why can't he be completely happy about your child? You push the thoughts aside and want to end the day and sit with him, but your gaze lingers on the stack of books. You should return them first, you know yourself. If you don't take care of it immediately, the books would still be lying here in weeks. And Winterfell's Maester is too respectful to bother his Lady Stark over a few books, even if he needes them.

So you lift the stack of books to bring them back to the Maester. Cregan is immediately by your side.

"I will take them." he says, already reaching for the books.

"It's fine." you laugh and try to push past him.

"You shouldn't lift so heavy."

Heavy? It's just a few books? A little annoyed, you push Cregan's hands away. "I told you, it's fine. I can handel a few books."

"I know you can. But you don't have to. Besides, the way up to the tower is long, and the outer stairs are probably frozen. I'll take care of it. Please, Lady Wife. Sit down at the fire, put your feet up and wait here. I'll be right back."

His concern almost brings tears to your eyes, he takes the books a bit to firmly out of your hand and nods towards the fireplace.

You admit defeat. "Very well, my Lord Husband," you say, kissing him on the cheek and sitting down in your seat. The warm fire makes you relax immediately, you stretch your legs and enjoy your wine while your husband sets off to take the books where they belong.

The last few days have been beautiful, the sun even provides a bit of warmth, and the sky is brilliantly blue. Of course, you took advantage of the good weather and went to the village with Rickon. At the market, everyone is happy to see their Lady Stark and little Rickon, the merchants are friendly, the women give you tips for your pregnancy and birth, and Rickon gets a new set of wooden toys. He runs through the stalls, and you slowly follow him. You notice that everyday tasks are becoming more exhausting due to your growing belly. But even these small inconveniences do not dampen your excitement for your baby. You talk to the villagers about their worries, whether there are any problems that you or Cregan can help with, or even just about how the winter flowers are starting to bloom or how the last hunt went well so the meat prices are low. When you have looked at all the market stalls, you take Rickon's hand again and head back to Winterfell. A few meters before the drawbridge, he lets go of your hand, gives you a light nudge, and runs off.

"Catch me," he calls out as his short legs carry him away slowly. You have to laugh, wait a moment, and then start the chase. You caught up with him in just a few steps and slowed your pace again, pretending to have trouble catching him. The boy laughs joyfully and runs in a zigzag to escape you.

"You are just too fast." you call out, feigning annoyance.

"Yes, as fast as your dragon mama." Rickon calls over his shoulder and then runs onto the castle courtyard, the guards immediately stepping out of the way for the heir of Winterfell. You run after him, catch up to him, lift him up while running, and spin both of you in circles. Rickon laughs in your arms, and when you set him back on the ground, he stumbles slightly. When he finds his balance again, he whirls around to you.

"You cheated." he shouts.

"No, you just lost," you laugh. The little boy pouts, his competitive nature coming to the surface. He jumps forward, lightly hits you on the stomach, and shouts loudly.

"You are it again." but before he can run off again, Cregan's voice rings over the courtyard.

"RICKON!" the tone makes not only the addressed boy flinch but you too. Cregan storms across the yard, his gaze consumed with rage. Rickon recoils in shock, and you quickly wrap an arm around him, pulling him close, ready to protect him from his father's unusual anger. Yes, Cregan has a rough parenting style as a Northerner, but he is never unfair and, above all, he rarely shouts. He stands in front of you, turning directly to Rickon. "You can't play so wildly! You have to be careful and above all, it is never under no circumstances allow to hit your mother." his voice is still too loud. You notice how Rickon starts to tremble.

"It was nothing. We played tag, he doesn´t hit me." you try to calm Cregan.

He turns his gaze towards you. "I explained to him that he shouldn't play with you so wildly, preferably not at all anymore!" you are glad that he at least doesn't scream anymore, still he makes you angry.

"But husband..." you start again. You can't understand his extreme reaction. You know he doesn't like it when Rickon misbehaves, but Cregan mustn't forget that the boy is still young. He must be allowed to be a child, even if he will one day be the Lord of Winterfell.

Cregan interrupts you. "Rickon, go to your chambers, you will stay there until dinner."

"Yes, Father," he says, the boy quietly, turns away, and runs inside; you heard the tremor in his voice.

"You were so strict," you say, crossing your armes before your chest. You trie to control your rising anger.

"No. He didn't follow my instructions, he must be punished." Cregan waves it off, comes to you, and gently puts his arm around you. But you are angry with him, so you push him away. Your husband looks at you in surprise.

"He can't play tag anymore? What kind of stupid instruction is that?"

Cregan looks down at you, slightly shakes his head. "Of course he can play tag. Just not with you."

You stare at him in confusion. What's wrong with him? "For what reason?"

"It's too dangerous. Rickon doesn't know that he has to be careful not to hurt you and the baby. "

"Cregan, it doesn't make any sense what you're saying..." you begin. You are very sure that Rickon can indeed gauge his strength in relation to you, and besides, it's not like the boy is constantly jumping on your belly while playing. You were just playing tag, for the gods' sake. You absolutely cannot understand Cregan's problem. You want an explanation for his behavior, but Cregan is talking over you.

"Please, sweetheart, go now and rest. It's not good for you to be running around outside." he kisses your forehead, pulls your cloak a little tighter around you, and then turns away to return to his work.

You stay behind in the yard and just stare after him. Anger and frustration rise within you. You don't need any damn protectors watching your every step. You are pregnant, not sick. Cregan acts as if every step costs you so much strength that you endanger the baby. And then treating Rickon like that? Why is he so strict with the boy? Annoyed with your husband, you still follow his instructions and go inside, heading straight to the children's wing. Rickon is supposed to stay in his room, but that doesn't mean you can't be there too and read him something.

Cregan's behavior is getting stranger and stranger.

As you wanted to take a bath, the water was only lukewarm, the maid told you that Lord Stark had given this instruction. You know that she is only following her lord's orders, so you don't argue. You bring it up with Cregan, but he waves it off and says the Maester recommended a lower bathing temperature, also because you always bathe in nearly boiling water. You are of the blood of the dragon, of corse your bath is hot.

Three days later, two new guards and a squire suddenly appear at your door in the morning. Lord Stark has given the order that we must accompany you, always. Not even a damn letter can you receive without the squire jumping forward and holding it for you.

Cregan, of course, won't listen to reason. Everything is for your safety, so you can rest. It´s his favorite argument now: you have to rest. You can't hear that word anymore!

You're doing fine! Yes, it's exhausting to carry your ever-growing belly around with you, but it's not like you have to climb the wall up and down every day. And your beloved husband won´t listen to you. It´s make you so angry that you want to scream at him, but everytime you raise your voice Cregans begs you to calm down and rest.

Today, you finally managed to sneak away from your guards and hopped on for a flight on Abraxas 's back. The cold wind blows in your face, your heartbeat synchronizes with Abraxas 's even wingbeats, and as you both break through the cloud cover, you finally feel free again. Your Dragon lets out a cheerful whistle and turns directly into the wind, gliding smoothly through the sky and you can't help but laugh. The child in your belly kicks hard and moves. You are sure that it is also happy. After all, your child, like you, is of the blood of the dragon, and being here on dragonback is as natural for you as breathing. You take a longer route, but before noon, you land Abraxas back on the outer wall of Winterfell. You can almost hear Cregan's voice in your ear. Just don't get her used to it, when she gets bigger she'll tear down the whole keep. But now, your dragon is still young enough, and you are still angry with your husband.

Abraxas bends her front leg deeply, lowers her body more to the side, so that despite your big belly, you have no trouble sliding off your saddle and landing gently on the ground. Your dragon turns its head towards you, and you stroke its nose. Your child kicks hard again and you flinch slightly. Carefully, Abraxas nudges your hand, bringing a smile to your face.

"Don't worry, my girl, it won't be long until we fly together, you, me, and the little puppy"

Anticipation spreads within you, even though you can't get your big pup Cregan to climb onto a dragon's back, your child will be a Targaryen, a dragon rider.

This very husband is running towards you. He seems to be very angry with you. At least his face is contorted with rage and his steps are heavy as he storms towards you.

"Are you out of your mind?" he roars. You take a step back, Abraxas bares his teeth as Cregan approaches.

"The wall is still intact," you say, rolling your eyes.

"I don´t give a fuck about this wall right now. A dragonflight? In your condition? Don't you realize what could have happened?"

A good wife would have taken a deep breath, calmed her husband, and perhaps even apologized for the circumstances. But today you are not a good wife. You've had enough now. Your frustration reaches its boiling point and you scream in anger. "Nothing could have happened. What is that even supposed to mean? I'm not a little child that you have to coddle."

Of course, heads are turning in your direction; it is rare for Lord and Lady Stark to argue, and even more so in public. No, normally the people of Winterfell have to settle for the servants' gossip, but not today. You don't care how many people are listening to you.

"You go inside right now, and your dragon will be chained up." yells your husband and waves a guard over.

"How dare you!" you shout.

"I dare because a dragon flight is too dangerous. You might not understand it now, but I'm doing this for your own good."

You snort contemptuously. "I won't let anyone stop me from dragon riding." you stomp your foot.

"You will obey my commands." Cregan trembles with rage, clenches his jaw, and does not take a single step back. Not even when Abraxas hisses behind you and flaps her wings, causing the snow around you to swirl.

"By what right does the wolf command over the dragon?" you cry, hot rage inside your veins.

"By the right of the old gods and the new, and every damned Valyrian god. I am your husband, you carry my child in your womb. You do what I say. And I said get inside and no more dragon flying. I'm not going to discuss this. You either go inside voluntarily or by force. choose."

You notice tears welling up in your eyes, he has never spoken to you like this before. Never command you like this. What is happening to him? What is happening to you beloved husband. Abrax behind you roars angrily, rears up, and you feel her take a breath to set all of Winterfell ablaze.

"lykirī Abraxas." your Dragon obeys, so you turn to the guards. "Whoever touches my dragon will burn." you say, your voice sounds weak, without another look at your husband you pass by him and go to your chambers.

The door doesn't even close properly before it's pushed open again. You know it's Cregan. But you don't turn around. The door slams shut, silence spreads. You feel hot tears running down your cheek, you can't suppress a sob.

"Sweetheart." you feel his hand on your shoulder, his voice is as sweet as honey. As if you had made a mistake, as if you were the one who had to ask for forgiveness. Anger boils up again, you spin around. Your hand hits his cheek as hard as you can. Cregan flinches, even though you're sure it hurt you more than him. You have to open and close your fist a few times, but the pain still throbs. Cregan's jaw tightens, yet he swallows his anger. "Sweetheart, please, you've already gotten worked up enough. You need to .."

"If you say rest now, I'll kill you. I don't need to rest. I'm doing well. I am healthy. I don't understand what's wrong with you. I can hardly recognize you anymore." you scream at him. Frustration, anger, despair rise up inside you.

You start pacing back and forth, Cregan's eyes follow you, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He wants to say something, but you don't let him.

"I am not a damsel in distress. I am a Targaryen of the blood of the dragon. I do not need you to watch over me like a hen. And I certainly won't let anyone forbid me from riding my dragon." you roar angrily.

You never would have thought that you would ever have such a discussion with your husband. Your heart breaks a little at the thought.

Cregan, however, does not back down. He doesn't scream, but his voice is full of suppressed anger and trembles slightly.

"It's the best for you. I am still your husband, and if I believe it is right for you to stay inside and be safe, then you have to do it."

Annoyed, you groan, "I'm safe with Abraxas too." frustrated, you throw your hands in the air. Why doesn't he want to understand that?

"No! No, you're not," he suddenly yells again, but now there's something different in his voice, not pure anger but despair. "You must understand that you are only safe when you rest and gather your strength. Only then can you survive. You have to survive."

You stop in the middle of your movement, have to blink a few times as your brain processes the information. Your anger dissipates as you finally understand where his strange behavior comes from, everything falls into place. Cregan is not angry, and he is not just afraid. Cregan is panicking.

"You..." you have to swallow, tears form in your eyes. You look at Cregan, but he stares at the ground in front of you. "Cregan, look at me." he hesitates for a moment longer and then looks at you, his whole body trembling, tears welling up in his eyes, his breath quickening, and he chews on the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from crying. "You think I'm going to die in childbirth." your voice is no louder than a whisper.

Cregan takes two quick steps towards you, open his armes as if to pull you into a hug, but hesitates. You take the final step and pull him into a tight embrace. Your hands caress his neck as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, you feel tears on your skin, hear his quiet sobs.

"I couldn't do it. I can't do it again. Arra, when she died, I thought I could never be happy again. But then I saw you and I immediately fell in love. I knew this was my second chance at happiness. And sweetheart, I am happier than I have ever been in my life." you can hardly understand him, his voice trembling so much. Carefully, he separates himself from you. Wipes his face. "I can't lose you too. I would die."

You take a deep breath, trying to hold back your own tears. Why didn't he share his worries with you? His entire behavior suddenly makes sense. He just had to talk to you.

"You won't lose me. I will not die. I am healthy and strong," you try to ease his worry. You would like to promise him, but you can't.

"That was Arra too, yet she still died. Please, if you rest, then you will have enough strength."

"I have the strength. I can survive birth."

He shakes his head slightly. "And what if not?"

You suppress a sigh, have to try another way. "When you ride onto the battlefield, what do you say to your men? Do you promise them to survive?"

Cregan has to blink a few times, he is confused by the sudden change of topic, you can see it in his eyes. "Of course not. I can't do that."

"Are you sure you can survive every fight?"

"No, I'm not."

"Nevertheless, you ride out to battle." "

Of course. It is my duty."

"And the birthing bed is my duty. My battlefield. And trust in me, husband, that I will survive this battle. I understand your concern. Believe me, I really understand you, but it doesn't help me if you lock me up. I am a Targaryen princess. I am strong and I have my bond with my dragon from which I can draw strength. I have enough strength and I can fight if there are problems during childbirth. I will fight for you, for our child, for Rickon. I will not leave you alone. I will not die. But I need you by my side. You have to support me." carefully, you place a hand on his cheek. Cregan presses his forehead against yours, takes a deep breath.

"I can't stop worrying," he whispers.

"You don't have to. Neverless, don't let your worry crush you, don't let your worry crush us."

"I'm sorry. I just thought, if you rest." his voice is trembling again. You silence him with a kiss.

"I will rest. But I will not let you locke me away."

Cregan nods. "I should have talked to you. I'm sorry. I was just so paralyzed by my fear. I dreamed of your death, over and over again."

You have to swallow. Your heart breaks at the thought that he is suffering so much.

"It's okay. You have to believe in me."

"I believe in you," he says quickly.

"Then also believe that I can survive. And promise me that you will never shut yourself off from me like that again. Cregan, I love you, but your behavior wasn´t okay. You can't treat me like this."

"I know. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

You nod, give him a smile, and take a deep breath. "I have a compromise. I will not ride dragons until the child is born, but in return, I will get my hot baths back." C

regan has to laugh quietly. "Bath as hot as you want, sweetheart." he concedes.

You kiss his lips again. "Next time, talk to me and don't act like a huge idiot."

"Yes my Lady I Promise." he leans down, kisses your lips as if it were your last kiss. "The worry won't go away, though."

"I know. But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, until then I'll rest a bit and you try not to control everything. Deal?"

"Deal. I will support you from now on. I am by your side, all the time." it sounds like a vow.

Cregan keeps this vow, the rest of your pregnancy goes smoothly, and even though the birth is exhausting and the most painful thing you have ever experienced, you bring a healthy girl into the world while Cregan holds your hand.

[liabugs]

caleb horny thoughts >:3 | fem!reader

not proof read I wrote this on a whim LMAO | dividers by @/anitalenia !! <3

18+ MDNI SMUT AHEAD!!!!!

As soon as your head hits the pillow, Caleb is hovering over you instantly. His breath tickling the side of your neck as he leaves hot, opened mouth kisses on all over. From your shoulder to your collarbone, hastily making his way towards your lips. Finally, he places a steering hot kiss on your lips. You whimper into his mouth as he bites your bottom lip. In return, he lets out a shaky guttural sounding groan, he's losing his composure, his resolve wearing thin.

He doesn't want to be rough with you but the whines you let out as his hands explore your body is making it hard for him to keep a hold of himself. Soon enough, he's taking off his shirt, a light dusting of pink covering your cheeks as you take in his tone chest and body. He grabs your hand and places it on his heart, his forehead touching yours as he says, "This heart will always be yours, even when all the odds are stacked against us." Tears start streaming down your face. You cry because you have been waiting for this moment for what feels like a lifetime. "I will always love you." You promised, Caleb's eyes painted with emotions, and with that his lips meet yours again.

The kiss is more emotional than both of you had expected, but it is soon replaced with desperation as his hands spread your legs. Your breath hitches. Soon, his hands move up to the hem of your shirt, slipping it over your head. He makes quick work with taking off your bra, you gasp as the cold air of the room touches your nipples. "Fuck," Caleb hisses, "your so beautiful." you moan as his mouth attaches to your nipple, his other hand massaging your other breast.

His lips start making their way to your lower half, stopping at the waistband of your shorts. Caleb takes your shorts along with your panties by the hem and pulls them down. You lift your hips up to help him, he throws them somewhere across the floor. He looks down at your sex, his breath hitching when he sees how wet you are, your arousal almost glistening under the soft lighting of the room. Caleb leans down to steal your lips again, you moan when you feel his thumb press lazy circles onto your clit. He pulls away to hear your moans as he presses two fingers into your soaked hole. your hips grind on his finger as you moan with desperation.

"Singin' for me, pipsqueak?" he smirks. With those words, it is obvious that his teasing side never disappeared. "mmph-! need more, please...!" You pleaded as you looked into his violet eyes. He thrusts his fingers into your little hole, knuckle deep. You moaned in ecstacy as he settled for a quick rhythm. "Hahh... Caleb, please...!" You begged, his name falling from you lips. He hummed in return, watching the way your legs shook. "I want you to cum, can you do that for me hm?" You nod feverishly with a 'mhm' leaving your mouth. He continues to abuse your poor cunt, you chase your release by grinding into his hand. His palm rubbing on your clit.

The heat in your lower belly feels like it's about to burst, your hole fluttering around his fingers instinctively. Caleb feels you flutter, he purrs "C'mon princess, you can do it.." You moan in return, his lips wrap around one of you nipples trying to help you catch your release. Fortunately enough, that's all you need to tip over the edge. You cry out in bliss as you come undone around Caleb's fingers. His pupils dilating as he takes in your pleasure covered face.

"fuck, you look so divine when you cum.." he sighs, "You did so good baby, I'm so proud of you." He removes his fingers from your sensitive core, you letting out a whine from the loss of fullness. He brings his digits to his lips, taking them in to taste your arousal. He hums with contentment, pleased with your sweetness. As the night goes on, you and Caleb give in to the longing both of you share. Love and desperation filling the nightly air.

You wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world.

[litlledaisycat]

I've been thinking a lot about pot 89, about how their relationship would have developed with Rocket if they were alive... What would their life be like traveling through space?

I see Rocket and Floor as siblings, she's Rocket's little sister, in fact, I think she would have been the baby of the group! Floor has a naturally more childish personality, so I can imagine her being positive, optimistic, innocent and a bit reckless during the missions. Rocket and Lylla would be very protective of her, especially Rocket, who despite his temperament and somewhat taciturn personality, would always be worried about his sister's safety, willing to fulfill Floor's requests, like sitting on his lap to watch him work while he pilots the ship, or snuggling up to him and Lylla in the middle of the night, sleeping between them after having a nightmare.

I see Teefs as Rocket's best friend (before he met Quill, of course! Later they would become a trio of rowdy best friends in space) at the same time that he is the "fun uncle" in this little family, he is the one who spends the most time playing and entertaining Floor when Rocket and Lylla are busy with the missions or with the navigation of the ship, he is also the one who usually puts some sense and patience in Rocket's hot head, comforting him with a fin on his shoulder, reminding him to breathe and think calmly, it doesn't always work, but he will always be there to try to advise his irritable friend. I can see him and Rocket having a lot of fun on the missions, really as partners in mischief.

Lylla and Rocket would be two lovers, soulmates indeed. I won't get into the discussion about whether or not Lylla is his mother figure in the MCU. For me, they would be a couple. Rocket is angry, reckless, confident, mocking and sarcastic. Lylla is kind, loving, intelligent, patient and affectionate. They totally complete each other. I can see Lylla and Rocket falling in love over time, with Lylla admiring Rocket's determined and insanely brave side, and Rocket being enchanted by Lylla's gentle and loving way. They would both take turns controlling the ship, with Lylla being the only person who would be able to make Rocket change his mind about something. He will always listen to what she has to say, regardless of what he himself thinks. If Lylla thinks something is a good idea, then it is definitely a good idea. Despite his cocky demeanor, Rocket would be oddly romantic, often surprising Lylla with gifts and treats he finds on his adventures and hunts for criminals across the galaxy.

They’re gonna fly away together

For Batch 89

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Reader doing her skincare routine with quinny?

└( ﾟ∀ﾟ)┘💚└(ﾟ∀ﾟ )┘

I changed this juuuuuuust slightly! 😘😘

"Hey, do you still want to watch that movie, or no?" Quinn asked, poking his head through your open bathroom door. You had your face over the sink as he talked, so his words were muffled by the sound of running water, but you got most of what he had asked. 

"Um, sure. I just need a few more minutes." Looking at him through the mirror, you hadn't realized how red his forehead was until he raked his fingers through his hair to expose it. "Honey, your skin is really red."

"It's okay," he replied, shrugging. 

Turning to face him, he looked at you confused. You had a look in your eye that meant you weren't about to let this go. 

"Baby, it's fine. It's just a few breakouts. I have them all the time."

"They're from your helmet, I know," you said, reaching up to touch his face. His skin was inflamed and you knew they had to be painful. "Can I help?"

Quinn sighed lightly, mainly because he didn't like to be fussed over, but he didn't want to hurt your feelings either. "You don't have to."

"I know, but I want to."

He knew you wanted to, so he folded without putting up a fight. "Okay, baby. Do whatever you want to."

You smiled warmly at his words, before giving him a soft kiss as a thank you. "Let me get you something to keep your hair out of your face first." 

From one of your drawers, you'd grab a thick, padded headband, made for just such things. Placing it behind his ears, you'd push it up and past his forehead to completely brush all the hair out of his eyes. He looked cute, even though you could tell he was absolutely embarrassed. 

"That's a look," he replied sheepishly, dropping his eyes from his reflection immediately. 

"You're cute, hush," you said, following a second kiss. "It's just us here."

Your words gave him enough reassurance to smile finally. Quinn stepped closer to the sink, seeing all of the various glass jars and bottles that littered your large counter. "Do you use all of these?"

"When I need to, yeah, but not all at once or anything. I won't use too many on you, though, so don't worry. I don't want to aggravate your skin anymore than it already is."

"What /are/ you going to do?" He asked, picking up one of the serum vials to press its button topper. 

"Going to start with a mask to draw what I can out of those blemishes, first."

"A mask?"

From a cabinet, you'd grab a clay mask jar and a silicone spatula to apply it with and had Quinn sit on the edge of your tub. 

"I'm going to warn you, as this dries, it's going to tighten, so you'll feel a slight pulling feeling, okay?"

He nodded, looking up at you slightly concerned, putting his hands on your hips as you stood between his legs. The product was cold to his skin, making him balk slightly at the sensation but not enough to pull away from you. 

"It's cold, I know. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he said, closing his eyes, his hands falling down to your bare thighs. You were wearing one of his Canucks t-shirts that was even too big for him, which was why you loved it to sleep in. 

"I'm just going to do your whole face."

Quinn smiled, "You don't need to waste all your products on me."

"I think we can confirm that I have enough," you giggled, painting the clay around his facial hair. "Almost done. It doesn't take much of this stuff."

"How long does it stay on?"

"Till it's completely dry, so probably fifteen-twenty minutes, give-or-take."

"Okay."

Quinn would stay seated on the tub edge while he watched you finish up your nightly routine. He was amazed with all of the steps you did, knowing he could never do the same. Every so often, you'd look over at  him, just sitting there, hands between his knees. He looked miserable.

"Are you okay, honey?" You asked, after noticing his expression change. 

"Yeah."

"You don't have to stay here with me if you don't want to, Quinn. You'd probably be more comfortable on the sofa or something."

He shook his head, "I'll stay with you, or am I hovering you?"

Sadness flooded your expression as you stepped towards him. "No, baby! You're not hovering! I just wanted to make sure you were okay!" You wanted to kiss him, but that wouldn't be the easiest at the moment. You'd settle for a soft smile which you made sure he saw. 

Quinn tried to smile as well, but the tightness of the drying clay made him stop his attempt, so he just kind of looked at you like a sad puppy. 

"It's almost dry, baby. Just a couple patches on your cheekbone. I must have gotten it a little thick there."

While the mask finished, you ran the water to get it a comfortable temperature beforehand. He was looking at the floor as you drenched the washcloth in the warm water and made your back to him. "Chin up, baby. Let me get this off of you."

Again, his hands would find your body, like you were his security blanket this time. In reality, he just wanted an excuse to touch you, which you never minded. Slowly, you'd make small swipes of the now pale-green product, revealing refreshed skin beneath. You would have to make several passes back and forth to the sink to rinse the cloth, and each time you did, he'd resume his holding of you. 

"I could have just stood by the sink, babe," Quinn said, feeling bad about making you make so many trips.

"It's no problem, but thank you." With everything but the problem spot to wash away, you'd bend down to give him that kiss he seemed so desperate to have. "I'm going to be real gentle now. Let me know if you need me to stop or anything."

"Okay, thank you."

First, you would just press the cloth to his skin, letting the product rehydrate slightly, to avoid having to aggressively scrub the area. Thankfully, it came off much easier after doing so. The redness was still apparent, but the size of the blemishes did look slightly reduced. 

"Look at that handsome man," you said, satisfied with the outcome. 

"Yeah, right," Quinn replied. "Am I done?"

"Not quite, baby. I have something else for you. That just helped dry up those spots. I need to actually treat them now." 

"Oh." 

It took you a moment, but eventually you found the sheet mask you had in mind.

"What is that?" He asked, seeing you pull the white blob out of the packaging. 

"It's a sheet mask," you laughed, unfolding it to reveal the shape of the face it was meant to cover. 

"That's weird."

"Yeah, they kind of are. Now, this one is going to be really cold compared to the last one."

"Alright. Oh, it's slimy," he said, as you aligned it with his face, making sure it wasn't in his eyes. 

"They're wonderful things, though. This one won't have to be washed off. And it's made for acne and stuff, so it's perfect for your problem. I have the same stuff that's in this mask in a pump. Why don't you take it and use it after your games? Then your forehead won't be so aggravated and painful. And before you decline my offer, I have a couple of them," you finished with a wink, knowing he was apt to bring it up. 

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. I promise it will help."

Quinn smiled, giving you a squeeze as you still stood over him. "Well, now what?"

"We can start that movie if you want. Those masks you can sleep in, so there's no real time limit." 

"Sure." He rose to his feet, giving your cheek a soft touch with the back of his fingers. "I appreciate you wanting to help me. I'm clueless about all of this stuff."

"No problem, honey. It was fun," you smiled. "You should feel a lot of relief in the morning." 

"I hope looking like this is worth it," he shook his head, seeing what he looked like before leaving the bathroom with you. 

[nachrosas]

LOVE'S SOUP | s.reid x reader

summary: spencer is sick and you makes soup to help him. pairing: spencer reid x chef!reader content warnings: spencer is a little sick (not graphic) word count: 1k a/n: thank you so much @angellic4l for giving me the idea! hope you guys like it!

The sound of muffled sneezes and discreet coughs echoed through the apartment, almost losing the battle against the sound coming from the television. Spencer was sitting on the sofa, with slumped shoulders and slightly red eyes, trying, but without much success, to focus on the documentary in front of him.

You were watching from afar, with your arms crossed as you leaned against the worktop in the small kitchen. Three times he had tried to stifle his sneezes with the sleeve of his jacket as if to avoid attracting your attention, but the slight frown on his forehead and the way he squeezed his eyes shut showed how uncomfortable he was.

“He should be in bed,” you muttered to yourself, before letting out a resigned sigh. Spencer Reid, of course, wouldn't admit he was ill even if he was hit by a train of symptoms.

Pushing open the cupboard door above the worktop, you began to rummage around for something that might help. It wasn't much, but there was enough for a makeshift soup. An idea began to form in your mind.

A few moments later, with the broth simmering gently in the pot, the aromas of garlic, onion, and herbs began to fill the space. The soft sound of vegetables being chopped was almost therapeutic, contrasting with the documentary.

“Are you cooking?” a familiar, slightly hoarse voice sounded behind you.

You turned your head to find Spencer standing in the kitchen doorway, holding a piece of paper and looking even more dejected up close.

“Not exactly,” you replied with a smile, returning to stirring the broth. “I'm saving your life. Now get back on the sofa and let me take care of this.”

You placed the bowl of steaming soup in front of him, watching as Spencer stared at the plate with a mixture of surprise and hesitation. He adjusted his glasses with an automatic gesture as if he needed a moment to process what was happening.

“Did you… make that for me?” he asked, his voice husky and slightly suspicious, but without a trace of displeasure.

“Of course I did,” you replied with a reassuring smile, crossing your arms as you tilted your head. “Someone needs to make sure you don't fall apart before the next case.”

He lowered his eyes to the soup, the steam gently coating his lenses. “I don't know what to say. No one's ever done that for me before.”

You stepped forward, resting a hand lightly on the back of the sofa. “Then say thank you and taste it before it gets cold.”

He laughed softly, the sound muffled by the flu, but picked up the spoon with a shy smile. As he took the first sip, Spencer closed his eyes for a moment, letting out an involuntary sigh. The warm broth seemed to run through his body like a comforting hug, easing the headache and heaviness that the cold had brought.

“Are you all right?” you asked, leaning in slightly, eager for the answer.

“It's…” he hesitated, searching for the right word. “Surprisingly perfect. I can taste the garlic, which has antimicrobial properties, and I think there's ginger in it too? It helps relieve nausea and has anti-inflammatory effects.”

You raised an eyebrow, impressed, but feigned impatience. “It's not time to give a lesson, Spence. It's time for you to eat and let the soup magic work.”

He laughed again, the sound a little looser this time. “It's serious. Studies show that hot soups, especially those with a light broth, can help hydrate and decongest the airways. It's almost scientific.”

“Of course it is,” you replied, stroking his hair. “But I prefer to call it my infallible remedy. Now, even the genius of BAU has to admit that a little caution doesn't hurt.”

He looked at you over the bowl, his eyes brighter than before - perhaps from the warmth of the soup, or from the gesture itself. “I think I'm going to have to agree to that. Thank you… really.”

“You're welcome, Spence,” you replied softly, stepping back to give him room to finish. “But if you don't rest after that, next time I'll add more garlic. A lot more.”

He smiled a small but genuine smile, before returning to his soup.

Spencer put the spoon back in the bowl, leaning back on the sofa with a satisfied sigh. The bowl in front of him was completely empty, down to the last drop of broth. He looked at you, a little embarrassed, as if he still hadn't got used to being looked after like that.

“I don't know how to thank you,” he began, adjusting his glasses with a nervous gesture. “It was… the best soup I've ever tasted.”

You crossed your arms and sat down next to him, a soft smile on your face. “No need to thank me. It was just what you needed to make you feel better.”

“No, really.” he insisted, his eyes shining with sincerity. “I know it was something simple, but… it was more than I deserved.”

“Spence.” you interrupted him with a soft but firm tone. “Everyone needs looking after from time to time. Even stubborn geniuses like you.”

He ducked his head, hiding a shy smile as he fiddled with the rim of the bowl with his fingers. “You're right.”

“Good.” you replied, raising an eyebrow in a playful tone. “Then do us both a favor and get some rest, or I'll have to make another even more garlic-laden soup just to make sure you soak.”

He laughed, a genuine sound that warmed the room as much as the aroma of the soup had done before. “If it's a soup like that, maybe I really do need to get sick more often.”

“Don't even think about it, Spence,” you replied, pointing at him with an amused expression.

As you turned to wash the pot, you heard a slight movement behind you. When you turned around, you found Spencer with his head resting on the arm of the sofa, his eyes closed. He had fallen asleep, with a calm, relaxed expression that contrasted with the exhausted man from before. 

A tender smile formed on your face as you took a blanket from a nearby armchair and covered him lightly. “Good night, Spence,” you murmured softly. “I'll write down the recipe for you when you get better.

[bitchface24-7]

You were so so right about everything being smut like please please please some fluff or something

On the request note, can we get some reader cuddling Jayce after he has a nightmare and making sure he is fine, all warm and toasty under the comforter, playing with his hair maybe scratching his beard? I am such a sucker for nightmare hurt/comfort😩😩😩😩

I’M RIGHT HERE, SEE? - JAYCE X READER

synopsis: everyone suffers the odd nightmare or two. Its a normal occurrence. Now, when one has PTSD due to the cold, and it’s a cold winter’s night. Your brain may take you back some place you never wished to see again.

warnings: jayce has a nightmare and wakes up in a panic, he cries silently as he checks up on you, you wake up and comfort him, hurt/comfort, reassurance, sleepy cuddles, playing with hair, listening to heartbeats

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. I love this idea! I'm so happy that people like my writing enough to give me their ideas to jot down for the rest of you. Makes my heart flutter every time I see my inbox has something in it.

Jayce hates the cold, he hates winter. He can't stand it. It makes his palms sweat, his breathing pick up, and he feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest.

Ever since he and his mom were stuck in that blizzard, he can't see the snow or the cold the same way again. Its why he has such an obsessive love for magic. Magic saved him and his mom.

But it's not saving him now.

He's trying his best to shield you from the storm, using his much larger body compared to when he was a kid to protect you from the biting wind and icy snow.

But it’s useless. Your body is stiff, unmoving. Its cold to the touch, your lips are blue as are your nails.

You're experiencing hypothermia. No, you experienced hypothermia.

You're dead.

You're dead and it’s all Jayce's fault. He couldn't protect you, he couldn't keep you safe, he couldn't rely on magic this time to save you both. You're dead.

Jayce picks up your dead body and cries. He cries his heart out. He wails into the night sky begging and praying to gods he hasn't even thought of to save you.

To take him instead.

He puts his head your chest and whimpers when he doesn't hear that familiar beat.

He—

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He wakes up with a strangled gasp, shivering due to the night times fresh breeze. He's hyperventilating. His breathing slowly comes down to a normal pace when he realizes he's in your shared bedroom. He sees the basic night light plugged into the wall, he sees your wardrobe and dressed. He can faintly see the paintings on the wall.

Jayce covers his mouth with one of his hands and weeps silently. He looks over and sees you resting peacefully. He needs to make sure you're alive. He puts his hand on your back and feels the slight rise and fall of your breathing, he feels the warmth of your skin.

You're alive.

You're grumbling now as you slowly wake up.

You rub your eyes and sleepily ask, “Jayce? What's wrong? Why’re you up at—” You take a glance over to your bedside table, “Two forty-five in the morning?”

Your sleepiness vanishes when you turn over and see Jayce's watery eyes and the fact he's crying silently. You scooch over and immediately wrap your arms around him, putting his head on your chest as you run your hand through his hair. The other hand rubs his back.

“Shh Jayce. Shhhh. It’s okay. Whatever it is, it wasn't real. You're okay.”

Jayce's crying slowly halts as your comfort takes over his mind. You stay like that for a few minutes before you break the silence, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Jayce purses his lips and nods lightly. You continue to stroke his back and play with his hair as he speaks in a desolate tone. You never want to hear that tone a voice again, “We were stuck in a blizzard. Like the one my m—mum and I were in as a kid. Except— except there wasn't a mage there to save us. I tried everything to save you but you still died! You died and it was my fault!”

As Jayce gets amped up due to his dispair, you lightly shush him, kissing his forehead, “Jayce, I'm right here, see? Listen to my heart. It’s beating just fine.”

Jayce does just that, he presses his head firmly into your chest and closes his eyes, then he hears it.

Thu-thump

Thu-thump

Thu-thump

Thu-thump

A shaky sigh leaves his lips. There it is. There's your heartbeat. At the confirmation of you being okay, Jayce's anxiety levels drop. He feels exhausted. He never wants to experience fear like that again; even if it's false.

Seeing how serene Jayce is, you tuck the blankets over you two, ensuring not a speak of Jayce was left out in the fresh night breeze. You continue to physically ground him, playing with his hair, rubbing circles into his back, scratching his beard lightly and tracing his features.

Eventually, Jayce falls back to sleep, much more tranquil than he was before. In what feels like no time you fall asleep too, with a hand left in Jayce's hair and one on his back. He's the perfect weighted blanket.

You hope Jayce never experiences a nightmare like that again, but if he does; you’re there to take care of him.

This one is quite short but I hope it still hits all the feels. This one was nice to write, but I didn't want to drag it out too much. It'd feel disingenuous if I did that. Asks are still open (I can't imagine closing them unless I get too many in one shot)

[whore-ibly-hot]

Hello!! Ive been a fan of your yandere boarding school since the first part! And i was just wondering if you could maybe wrote about something like what are their favourite like positions? Like maybe how Carter's is like reader is on their knees and positions wheres hes most likely in power? im so sorry if it doesnt make sense (,,•﹏•,,)

Love this, that's very Carter.

Harrison: He wants typical missionary, or even getting your legs on his shoulders, but he has to see your face. He knows something like Doggy would maybe make you feel better, but he wants to see how pretty you look with him on top. He doesn't want you over-exerting yourself, he's your man, an athlete! Its his job to use that stamina to please you. No need for cowgirl or anything like that. Just let him take care of you.

Pez: Doesn't necessarily have a favorite position, but he's very into risky public sex. Sex under the bleachers at an event, sneaking away to do it in one of the locker rooms, that's what he wants. He likes teasing you about keeping it down while simultaneously trying to up how loud he makes you moan each time. Let him bend you up over the sink counter and go to town, he'll take the fall if you're caught.

Tyler: Giving and receiving oral is actually his favorite. He's a chef, everything he's good at comes from his tongue and sense to taste. Believe me, he's good with his mouth. He likes how intimate it is. In his head, people hook up all the time, rutting away, but he thinks it takes a little more intimacy to do oral. And he loves giving praise, he wants to make sure you know how good your doing. That's easy when he's able to brace himself against a chair or couch while you go to town.

Evan: Doggy for sure. He likes how dominant it makes him feel, how animalistic it is. He also likes that he can kind of pin you down, keeping you there. Feeling you squirm while he has easy access to grope the rest of you whole pounding away is perfect for him. Besides, he spends most of his time in the locker room, and there's plenty spots to get you bent over in there.

Joseph: Whatever position you want, he wants, but he's also a fan of missionary. It lets him go slow, and his body pressed flush to yours feels about as intimate as it can get. With missionary, it gives him enough control with speed and depth to take suggestions from you, he's very eager for feedback. His dirty secret is he wants to film it sometime, video himself in a p.o.v. type shot going at it with you. He's far too scared to ask you for it, but after you seem him glance at his camera enough during, you get the idea.

Carter: Like anon said, he prefers to feel he's in charge. However, as much as he likes you on your knees, under a desk or in his dorm servicing him, he likes having you on his lap. He gets easy access to any part of you'd he'd like, you have to bare it all but he doesn't even have to undress for it. He can make you rut against his thigh, or touch yourself, and he doesn't have to do a thing. He's big into making you work for his cock. It's only fair, all the time he spends looking after you.

[plethorawrites]

I know a lot of people HC that Damian Wayne would be a terrible dad because of how he was raised and his own trauma keeps him emotionally detached, but imagine if his upbringing did the exact opposite? (1.2k)

He'd be terrified the moment he finds out his wife is pregnant, utterly unable to comprehend it. He wants to be excited, like everyone else in his family is about it, but can't bring himself to get over the fear. He's worried he won't love it or feel attached to it like she already is. Hell, he keeps calling it and IT.

That fear only grows and grows, getting infinitely worse as she's closer to having the baby. He doesn't feel worthy of being a parent, he's got too much blood on his hands to know how to be gentle or caring, especially not to someone as small as a baby. His wife alone had to break through a dozen of his walls before he fully trusted her enough to be vulnerable with her. But then, the baby is born. He's a dad. His wife is alright, which is his first concern, the next being making sure the baby is too.

She is.

She's a she.

He has a little girl and it's like time stops, staring at her little face, her dark skin, her full head of hair, her chubby cheeks. That fear in his chest both grows and disappears all at once. He knows then and there that his worries about not loving her were absolutely ridiculous. He's never let the world hurt her. But the apprehension about being good enough still persists.

He refuses to hold her, claiming his wife should be the first since she did all the work. Which she did. Then, he still refuses. He doesn't want to cradle her when he keeps thinking of all the blood his hands have spilled. His wife can tell and deep down it worries her too, but she doesn't say anything because she knew it would take a while for him to get used to being a dad. His family comes to see the baby a few days after they leave the hospital, they all hold her, but Damian keeps his arms crossed.

He's still terrified from afar that one of his brothers will drop her, though.

One night, after she got to bed, he hears her crying. His wife is exhausted, rightfully so, so he gets up. She's eaten recently so he has no idea why the baby is crying, just that she is. He shushes her while she lays in her crib but she's a few weeks old, so of course she has no idea what that means.

Finally, he reaches down, scooping her up into his arms, just to try to keep her quiet so his wife can sleep. "Shh. Please let your mother sleep," he whispers, his eyes softening as she immediately stops crying.

He puts her back down, the anxiety having already flooded him just by having her in his arms, but the second she's back in her crib, she's crying again. He's forced to pick her back up and the crying turns to soft cooing, staring up at him with wide eyes. He sighs, sitting in the chair his wife likes to rock her to sleep in, holding her close in her blanket. Which wasn't really a blanket at all, just his old cape that she had somehow taken to finding comfort in.

She reaches out, with that iron vice of a grip all babies seem to have, grabbing his finger with her hand. "Such a strong grip for such a small person," he whispers to himself or perhaps to her. "I love you, you know? More than anything. I just...feel like you deserve a better father than me."

She's still staring, silently, with absolutely no recognition of his words and his grips around her tightens as he leans his head back in the chair, falling asleep until morning when his wife finds him in the nursery with her still in his arms. He won't pretend he didn't feel a little bit of comfort holding her. But it was still frightening to him. Even if his wife assured him every other day that he was doing fine and she knew he could be a good dad.

He takes to being the one to soothe her at night so his wife can sleep, both because he's used to staying up at night for work and because he's somehow a lot better at getting her to calm down. He begins calling her 'beautiful' or 'darling' in Arabic, which always elicits a small smile. And he knows without a single doubt that he'd never let the darkness he's seen touch her.

The older she grows the better he gets at it. She's less fragile, he's more confident that he does deserve her. He can raise her better than he was raised. And he does. He can recognize each of her cries, knows what she needs, sometimes before she does. He presses a kiss to her head every night before she goes to bed and even when she starts sleeping through the night he'll still sit in her nursery for a while because he knows he'll never see her this small again.

She turns one and his whole family is there, spoiling her with extravagant gifts, even though he knows her favorite thing in the whole world is the blanket she sleeps with, made from his old cape. She's old to stand and starts babbling, not quite forming words, but it's enough that he knows what she wants when she points in a vague direction and starts getting frustrated about wanting something. He sits on the floor, holding her little hands while she stands, learning to take her first steps and his wife grimaces, worried the baby will fall.

She does.

Damian catches her.

She giggles and he can't help but grin with pride. "That's my girl. Already learning to walk a few months early." She's smart, he knows it. He doesn't boast to anyone aside from his wife or family about it, but secretly judges all the other kids in the group his wife takes her too. They weren't quite as advanced as his daughter.

After all, she responds to some words in Arabic. Her nicknames, mostly. Although she'll turn her head when he says 'look' or tells her 'good job' for finishing her mashed veggies. How many other babies did they know who were bilingual before two? Not many.

After fourteen months or so, her eyes change from blue to green and he finds himself even more transfixed with her wide eyes that track everything he does when he wakes up before his wife to make them all breakfast. He scolds her lightly when she throws the teething ring she loves at him, telling her "That's rude." Before handing it back to her and making her some steamed vegetables, since he always refused to give her store bought baby food.

It wasn't good enough for his child.

Around the time her babbling turns to poorly formed words, she starts calling him Babba and realizing how it makes him smile utters it over and over when she wants to be picked up.

She goes: "Babbababbababba." Like it's all one very long ramble until he lifts her out of her high chair and lets her rest on his hip asking her what she wants. "Stuffed animal?" He questions, pointing at her collection of them. She just repeats. "Babba." again, laying her head against him.

He realizes she just wants to be held and he gladly holds her for as long as she wants.

[itsnesss]

subby min-su from squid game who likes to be degraded? >.<

𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 | park min-su (player 125) × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | smut, explicit content, emotional manipulation, power dynamics dom!reader, sub!min-su, masturbation, degradation

word count | 1.2 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

You lean against the cold bedroom wall while the murmur of the exhausted players fills the air. But your attention is not on them. Your eyes search for him: Min-su, player 125, always moving in the background, always trying to go unnoticed.

There is something fascinating about her way of being, in that submissive and cautious manner of avoiding any confrontation. You can't help but smile when you see how his shoulders tense up when he notices you're watching him. You watch as he asks to go to the bathroom and you follow him. Tonight, there's no escape.

"Min-su" you call softly, but with enough firmness to make him stop.

He freezes, his eyes fixed on the ground as if he feared facing you.

"Are you running away from me?" you ask, slowly approaching.

"N-no…" he stammers, his voice barely a whisper.

"Of course not," you murmur, leaning towards him. "Because you can't, can you?"

He doesn't respond, but the blush on his cheeks is enough confirmation. You love seeing him like this, caught between fear and something else he doesn't dare to admit.

"Tell me, Min-su," you demand, your tone soft but commanding. I want to hear you.

Her breathing quickens, and she finally surrenders to your words.

"I like it..." he admits with a trembling voice.

The power of that confession courses through you like a jolt. You lean in closer, savoring every second of their surrender.

"You're pathetic" you whisper to him, without malice but without compassion. "But that's what I like about you".

He swallows hard, his eyes finally meeting yours. There is something different now, a spark of acceptance in his gaze. What he feels for you is not just fear or submission, there's something more there. Something that intrigues you.

"I want to see you," you say, staring at him intently. I want to see what you've been trying to hide from me. Undress.

That makes him react. He turns towards you, his arms crossed over his chest.

He tries to object, but you don't let yourself be impressed.

"You made a pact with me, Min-su. And if you give up now, everyone will realize that you are not what you seem. You didn't let me down, did you?"

He cannot deny your words. He slowly lowers his hands, his fingers trembling as he tries to unbutton his shirt. Her chest slowly emerges, revealing soft and tender skin. It's all you need. What has led you to make this bet.

"I told you that if I won this game, I wanted something of yours," you remind him. And you know what I want.

You nod in approval when you see her smooth skin exposed.

"Don't disappoint me," you murmur, running your fingers over her hips. Undress for me, Min-su.

It's as if your words were the trigger for her complete surrender. With a desperate moan, he takes off his jersey. His torso emerges, and your eyes widen at the sight of his bare skin.

"That's what I was waiting for," you murmur, stroking her thighs. Now, the underwear.

He writhes for a moment, but soon obeys. His fingers move nervously around his pants. But there is no escape. His pants fall to his feet, then his boxers. You see him with trembling legs, his eyes fixed on you, as if he didn't know what to do. He doesn't have to do anything. You just need to accept your fate.

"I just won, Min-su. You can see why".

He nods silently, his eyes glistening with tears.

"Tell me," you demand.

"Yes. I can understand it" he whispers, his gaze meeting yours. "I like..." his voice trembles as he speaks. "I like that you like my body".

You smile upon hearing his words. You knew what was behind his subdued exterior, but you truly couldn't imagine how much there was in him. What he had tried to hide from you was much more than you had imagined. And she has only just realized what she feels at this moment.

"And what do you want?" you ask him, stroking him from top to bottom.

"I want..." he moans, his eyes falling to your feet. I want you to treat me like an object. I want to see you enjoy me as if you were the owner of my body.

"You are mine" you assert with a whisper. "That's what you must remember. You are at my command, Min-su. Because you are mine".

"Oh, God," she whispers. "Oh, please. Do it. Do whatever you want with me. Please".

You get closer to him, whispering in his ear.

"That's what I'll do. I will do what I want from you, Min-su. Do you understand? I'll do what I want and when I want. Because you are the prize I have earned tonight, Min-su. The prize you promised me. And I'm not going to let you get away".

"Please..." he whispers. I promise. I promise you that I will always be there for you. Always!Please, don't let me go!

You laugh softly upon hearing his babbling. You can feel their hopes rising, their body trembling in anticipation. And you know you've had him since the moment he took off his clothes. What you need is your reward.

"So, I'm going to start" you whisper. "I'm going to do this..." you begin to say, but leave it hanging. "What I desire".

You smile again, your smile a promise of the night to come. Min-su approaches you, his mouth searching for you with anxiety. You stop him with your hand. His eyes look at you with desperation.

"No. Not yet" you tell him.

"Why not?" he cries, his breath quickening. I told you I'm ready for you. I will do anything you ask me to.

"You know why" you say with a smile. "You are not the prize. You are just the consolation prize. Or don't you remember why? Or don't you remember your place? Or don't you remember what I am?"

His eyes widen, and a new wave of terror washes over his face. You know it. You know that fear. But you know it's not the same fear as before. No. Now he knows what you are. He knows what you will do.

"I remember," he finally says, his words barely a whisper." I remember your bet. And I know why I'm the consolation prize".

"Perfect" you murmur. "That's right".

Her gaze meets yours, her eyes frightened.

"Wait," she moans. "Are you going to hurt me? Haven't you said that you like me? Haven't you told me that you are my owner?"

"And now are you going to hurt me?"

"No" you say. In fact, you smile. Their eyes widen even more at the sight of your smile.

"I'm going to give you what you've always wanted," you say. The true reason why you have always followed me, the true reason why you are here.

He doesn't ask what you mean. Just nods in silence.

"I understand," he says simply. And when he looks at you, his eyes are shining with tears of acceptance.

Of surrender. Of obedience.

You smile in response. You know. You know everything. You can see it in their eyes. Everything he has been trying to hide from you is revealed in his pupils. All the pain, all the desire, all that he has waited for with such longing. All her fear towards you.

"Don't be afraid," you say. This won't hurt you.

He nods again, his gaze searching for you once more.

"I'm ready," he says firmly. I'm ready for whatever.

You nod. Now is the right moment. You slide your fingers across his chest, caressing them as you move towards his crotch. You feel it there, erect and ready. With a whisper, you wrap your hand around it, squeezing gently. Min-su moans in surprise and pleasure.

"There it is" you murmur in their ears. "That's where I want you".

You begin to masturbate him then, your fingers squeezing his member, sliding up and down gently. Min-su's body begins to tremble, his gasps increasing with each caress. You see him trembling, his face sweaty, his eyes shining with longing and desperation. A deep moan escapes his lips and your fingers tighten around him.

"I'm going to..." he moans, trying to grab your wrists.

"Don't worry," you murmur with a smile, without letting him go. "I'll know when you're coming. I will always know what you need".

You nod, quickening your caresses. Their gasps become more intense. His body arches upwards, his hands gripping your shoulders. You feel him about to come.

"Do you want to come for me?" you whisper in his ears.

"Oh, God…" he groans. "Yes! Yes!"

A moment later, he lets out a sigh. A cry of pleasure escapes his lips. His arms wrap around your hips, his entire body trembling in your embrace. You let him do it, cradling him in your arms as he spills out. You feel him trembling in your arms, his breath ragged, his heart pounding with fury.

You cradle him in your arms for a moment longer and kiss him gently on the cheek. Min-su nods, smiling faintly.

"Thank you," he groans.

"Good boy" you smile at him.

You hug him one more moment before leaving him there, alone.

[dog-bimbo]

puppy!hybrid reader x owner!shiu kong cuz i gotta live up to my username and also, i've had a couple of rough weeks ☆ t/w fem!reader who's a puppy hybrid, petplay, reader is compliant, p in v, dumbification, oral sex, spanking, muzzles, sex toys, mentions of pregnancy, slight angst but a lot of fluff minors and ageless blogs do not interact !

owner!shiu absolutely adores you. perky, soft and extremely pliant—you were a sight for his sore eyes. all he wanted after reaching his prime was to have fun with someone as sweet as you after a long day of work. he seemed very well composed and formal but he could feel that facade of his crumble a bit the minute he'd lay his eyes on you.

you were owner!shiu 's living and breathing doll. "'m home." you'd practically be pawing and scratching him once he enters the door out of desperation and he'd pick you up and let you pepper him with as many kisses you want to give him. "did you miss me, puppy?" he lifts you up and embraces you tightly, he knows how much it makes you squeal. he makes sure to pat your head, scratch the back of your ears, softly caresses your tail, give you a lot of rubs all over your body and spin you around at times because all of those things made you feel like you were on the top of the world. "good girl, good girl, you're such a good girl." is all he keeps saying when he's cuddling you and this makes you feel super euphoric, this is the kind of high he could die for.

owner!shiu 's only goal is to keep you safe and happy within your confines. you're extremely ditzy and simple and he knows you like the back of his hand. he'd buy you the frilliest of dresses and accessories and whatever made you truly happy and comfortable. "give daddy a twirl, sweetheart, c'mon... good girl." he'd murmur, watching you try out all the things that he gets for you.

owner!shiu loves it when you run your feet up his torso as he makes you wear the new pair of thigh high stockings that he bought, he loves it when you nibble, suck and lick him because at the end of the day, all you had to do was the bare minimum and he'd give you the world. whatever it is, he'll make you sit on his lap, shaking his leg because he knows how much you love the stimulation and hear you talk about nonsense for hours on end till you get sleepy and fall asleep on his chest.

there are times when owner!shiu is stressed but he has his sweet puppygirl to relieve all of it, doesn't he? he slaps his cock on your longing, salivating tongue, "you want it, don't ya?" he swears that his cock melts off the minute you start lapping and sucking at it. he gently grips your hair as he rubs your ear while you're going at it. "hah- who's my good girl, who's my good girl?" and when he starts to cum, he leaves his cock nestled deep inside your throat as he gushes and when he pulls out and a bit of cum drops on the floor, you make sure to lick all of it without wasting a drop because you're his good girl.

owner!shiu 's favourite position is very obviously doggystyle. he always has one of his hands planted on your hips and the other one on his abdomen as he's practically leaning on you while thrusting his length all the way to your hilt, "fuuuuuucckkk... you're so good f'me, aren't you, my good girl," and you'd mewl broken yes's as he takes good care of your heat periods. "...gonna fuck a litter right in y'r womb, what do you say, huh? i can make a mom outta you, if that's what you want..." and no matter how overwhelming it is, you want more and more of this. nothing ends till you pass out of pleasure eventually and even though he doesn't have the stamina to go on all night, he has his fingers and his mouth and all the toys in the world to keep going.

but owner!shiu is human after all and his patience runs thin at some point as well. whenever you're acting bratty or defiant which was rare, he'd always fix it. he'd bend you over on his lap and spank you till a deep red blossoms on the soft, tender swell of your ass. and at times when you got really unruly during your heat ruts and he's simply had enough of you humping thigh or his shoe, he'd keep you chained for hours with a vibrator on low and a muzzle on your mouth. "y'know i hate doin' this, don't ya? but this is what bad girls get."

owner!shiu is very mindful of your needs and wants but at times, he just cannot put yours above his and gets cruel. but what sticks on to you is when he calls you bad, that's the worst thing in the whole world. and when you cry and whimper in his arms, he hugs you, murmuring words of assurance and apologies all night because you're his sweet little puppy girl and he loves you.

[iminyourwallsbabe]

I have more Meljayvik thoughts

Okay first and foremost, Jayce takes care of both Viktor and Mel. Idk where this idea came from that he doesn't but *insert loud incorrect buzzer*

Like we're talking about a guy who basically screwed over all of humanity so his gay situationship could live a little longer. The same guy who, as a child, tried to shield his mother from the freezing fucking cold. Come on now.

Let me break down just how dedicated I think he is to this

So when it comes to Mel, she's a busy woman, girlbossing takes a lot of energy out of her. Sometimes, she'll fall asleep without wrapping her hair up. No scarves, no bonnets, nothing. So he went out of his way to not only buy her satin sheets to counteract it, but he will deadass go in and put the bonnet her himself. Does he always manage to do this without waking her up? No, but she appreciates the effort. And in that same vein, he also learned how to do her hair so she wouldn't have to keep doing it herself. If she wants ankle length 613 goddess braids he will sit there for the hours it'll take to do that I'm so serious. She'd never ask for that but again, it's the thought that counts.

And ALSO. When her social battery runs out at the end of the day, nobody's allowed to speak to her unless she wants them to. "Councilor Medarda-" NO. SHUT UP. SHE DOESN'T WANNA HEAR IT. SAVE IT FOR TOMORROW. GO AWAY. He will simply not allow it. Shit, he won't even talk if she doesn't want him to (usually she likes to hear him speak though, it's comforting).

Then there's Viktor, who requires a hell of a lot more maintenance even though he can handle most of it himself. Bro will forget to eat, sleep, drink, he'd forget to breathe if that was something he could stop doing for a long period of time without dying. Jayce will come in every now and then and give him at least a snack or something. Or, he'll just drag him out of the lab and forcibly take care of him. What's he gonna do? Stop him? Bffr. Get loved, bitch. He'll take his cane if he has to. And if he happens to fall asleep in the lab, he'll take him to bed or put a blanket over him at least. He knows how the cold makes his pain worse and would rather him be warm. That being said, his room is heated and stops at a specific temperature. Viktor was actually very impressed when he realized he did that and wondered why he never thought of it.

Anyway long story short he loves them and I can confirm that all of this is canon because the creator of Arcane, Mr. John Arcane himself, came to my house to tell me

[joeyspuckbunny]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ long day - j. woll ˚₊‧ ୨୧

pairing: j. woll x fem!reader summary: Y/N is exhausted and Joesph hasn't really noticed until she breaks down after a long day. request: Can I request?? Joesph Woll (my one true love) with reader maybe something along the lines of ‘you look after everyone else but who looks after you’ like super soft ?! I can’t write but I NEED this please, of course only if you are up for it🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 word count: 1078 warning(s): FLUFF, established relationship, joe being oblivious, not proof read notes: my first request !! i know exactly how reader feels rn. finals are kicking my ass. this is not crazy long because i'm still learning to write long fics but i really hope you enjoy it !! xoxo

Joe's keys jingle as he unlocks the door to your shared condo. He kicks off his sneakers and drops his gym bag on the ground.

"Hey, baby, I'm home!" he raises his voice so you can hear him from another room. There's no response. Weird, normally you are working in the kitchen or taking a nap by the time he gets home from practice. The TV in the living room is off and the condo is eerily silent.

Making his way down the hallway towards your bedroom, he opens the door. The bed is made and your purse, keys and phone are gone from their usual spot on the nightside table. Joe furrows his brow in confusion and walks back into the main area of the house. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and sees a missed call from you, but only one. And no texts.

Wandering into the kitchen, he sees a sticky note on the fridge. Joe takes it off and reads it.

Got called into work. See you at 9:00.

9:00? It's only 5:00 right now. He pulls out his phone and opens your chat.

Sorry about work, sweetheart. See you when you get home.

He sighs. You weren't scheduled to work today. You weren't even supposed to be called in today. He rubs his eyes and yawns. Five hour practice has him wiped. He'll just watch Seinfeld and wait for you to get home, he decides. Then you can both eat together and go to bed.

"Ow, fuck!"

Joe eyes open fast. He jerks awake and almost falls off the couch. He blinks a few times and turns over on his back.

"Joeeeee!!"

He jumps slightly again. You make your way into the living room, "Why are your shoes and bag just in the middle of the floor? I just tripped on them". You look at him with your mouth slightly open, emphasizing you shock.

"Sorry, baby, I-". "Whatever, I'm going to bed" you walk towards your bedroom and close the door hard. You change quickly into more comfortable clothes before Joe walks in.

"How was your day?" he asks, coming over to sit on the side of the bed with you. "Long," you reply, not looking up from your bag as you rummage around, searching for a hair slip. Joe chuckles, "I assumed so, but that's not what I asked. How was your day? What did you do?".

You look up at him and he notices tears swelling in your eyes. "Can I have a hug?" you ask softly. He nods, "Of course". Immediately, your arms wrap around his waist and he can hear soft sobs coming from where your head is buried in his chest.

"Y/N, is everything ok?"

You lift your head and look at him. You nod slowly, a single tear falling from your left eye. Joe moves his thumb to wipe it away and you sniffle.

"Don't lie to me, love. You know that doesn't work."

As if on cue, you start sobbing once more. "Today was so hard, Joey. I have exams coming up and I have barely studied. I was called into work because Jessica called in sick and we are short staffed. Even though I told my boss I couldn't come in, he insisted. He said he'd pay me time and a half but it wasn't worth it.". You pause and inhale deeply, then continue, "Jessica has done none of her work for an article due for publishing in two days, so I basically edited the whole thing. And then on the way home, my sister called and said she needs us to watch the boys next week while she and her husband go to Seattle. We don't have space for them, Joe. But, of course, my mom can't because she is off in Europe for 6 weeks. So, who else will they go to? An orphanage? No, they will come live in our not baby proofed one bedroom condo for 4 days".

By this point you have stopped crying as much and are more in a rant of rage than anything. Joe sits quietly with his hand on your back, feeling your heartbeat. He listens. Normally, you are a ray of sunshine. So peaceful and bright. However, right now, you seem more like a bridge collapsing under too much weight.

"On top of that, I missed the exit for Wendy's so I didn't even get to eat. I'm starving and I'm tired and burnt out and I can't rest because everyone needs something constantly. I'm just... done". You stop ranting and sigh, feeling defeated.

"Wow"

You look up at him, confused, "What?"

"Y/N, you're so... strong". Joe smiles softly and continues, "You take care of everyone. All their bullshit, all their needs. Even mine. I come home every night to a wonderful girlfriend who is getting her education and has a demanding job, but still makes sure my home feels like home. You look after everyone else. But let me ask you something, baby, who looks after you?"

You tilt your head in confusion at the question, "I don't know. Me, I guess". Joe shakes his head. "Wrong, I do. Or, at least, I should be. I'm sorry I haven't noticed the pressure you are under. Do you work tomorrow?"

You nod again. He shakes his head once more, “Call in sick. I have practice early tomorrow but no game. When I get home, I'll help you study for exams. Then, I'll take you out for a nice dinner and we can go see a movie. Sound good?"

You nod again, this time with a small smile forming on your face. He picks you up, slamming you back down on the bed. You laugh and yawn.

He asks, "Time for bed?"

You stretch and wipe your eyes. "Mhm, long day". Joe laughs and slips you both under the covers after turning off the lights and closing your blinds. He places his arm under your head and you body instinctively shifts toward him.

"Joe?" you ask, your eyes already closed.

"Hmm?"

"Tomorrow... can we go to the pretty library to study? The one... on Queen?". Joe chuckles at the pauses you take mid sentence. You must truly be exhausted. "Of course, baby, anything you want," he replies, stroking your cheek and tucking your hair behind your ear, "I love you, Y/N".

"I love you too, Joey"

[gothghostiie]

babysitter!reader chronicles continue because I babysat the whole weekend and obviously cannot catch a break

cw: comfort, reader has a strong reaction to things breaking, gn!reader

thinking about price being gone overnight, having you sleep over so he doesn't stress about coming home. he knows you don't mind sleeping on his couch and he knows his little munchkin is safe with you. you get to spend the morning with the baby who decided to wake up extra early, making some easy breakfast for both of you, hanging out the whole day, it's routine by now. in the afternoon you make a snack and decide to make some tea for both of you - the little one definitely got it's love for tea from John.

It's all good and well, until you have to put the infant down for a second to fill the electric kettle with water. you put it right next to the sink and put the little one down, telling them that they'll be right back in your arms, just let you boil the water. the baby coos as you stand up and turn around: just to be met with the sounds of crashing and clattering, and with the sight of glass shards. you immediately pick up the baby and stumble back, eyes wide as you try to process what the fuck just happened, your heart racing and your hands shaking. you have to do everything in your power to not let out a string of courses as you look at the broken kettle, trying to figure out what to do.

you decide the best course is put the baby to the safety of it's high chair while you pick up the big shards, it goes just fine until you grab the vacuum cleaner to get the small shards. the baby starts fussing, making grabby hands at you, your heart clenches. so now you're vacuuming, baby on your hip, holding on tightly. its all fine until you put the vacuum cleaner away and have a moment to gather your thoughts, the waterworks start flowing big time.

you try your hardest to hold back as you make the tea and the food, sniffling while the occasional sob falls from your lips. the baby keeps looking at you confused, touching your face and tilting their head, babbling softly as if trying to ask why you're crying. you just keep a hold of them and try to smile at them, sitting down to eat with them as you try to figure out how to tell John you broke his electric kettle.

tears are still flowing as you type out a text, not brave enough to tell him face to face. you almost wanna throw your phone out after the text is sent, but you just put it into your pocket. you distract yourself with housework, with the baby, still occasionally tearing up, when your phone vibrates.

its a simple message from John; 'be home soon.'

you can feel the nausea rise in your belly, hands trembling again as your mind goes a mile a minute. he didn't even say anything to you telling him the kettle broke, just that he's home soon. your head goes from anything to you're being fired to you'll end up never being allowed around any child ever. you try your hardest to distract yourself, cleaning up a last time before putting on a kids' movie and sitting on the couch with the baby. you're fidgeting with your fingers, you're nervous, anxious, almost near tears - your heart stops when you hear the keys jingle in the door. you freeze up, glancing at him from your place on the couch as he walks in, boots thudding heavy on the floor. he stretches with a groan, putting down his bag and hanging up his jacket before making his way over to the two of you. he stops right in front of you, arms crossed as he bends down - just to coo at his baby.

"there's my little angel, missed me?" he smiles softly, but quickly frowns as he seed the expression on your face. he knits his brows, staying leaned down to the two of you. "hey, whats the matter? you look like a kicked puppy, love." he chuckles gently, trying to coax a smile out of you, but it doesn't work. you look down at the yawning baby, grabbing at John's arms, wanting to be held.

you mumble another apology, causing him to huff in confusion before it dawns on him. "love, this isn't about the broken kettle, is it?" he asks, sighing softly as you keep quiet. he finally picks up the cooing baby, it immediately nuzzles into him. "wait here." he mutters softly, putting the sleepy baby down for a nap in the nursery before coming back to you. his arms are crossed, hes frowning, you barely even look at him; not even when he sits down next to you. "c'mere, bird." he murmurs, patting the side of his thigh, lifting his arm.

your eyes widen a bit, you hesitate before scooting closer. a strong arm wraps around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. "there there. you're okay love, it's alright." he says softly, quietly, as if talking to his little one. "there's no need to be scared, yea? I'm not angry." you glance up at him, still unsure. he kisses your head gently. "it's just a kettle. I'll get a new one tomorrow." his strong hand keeps a hold of your arm, caging you against his side, the other resting on your knee with the thumb rubbing gentle circles.

you mutter another apology as tears threaten to spill again, he shushes you gently. "no, no. none of that. and no tears either, bird. its okay. these things happen." he holds you tighter, soothing you gently as you nod. he holds you like this until he feels the tension in your body lessen, finally accepting his words and that he's not mad. he presses another kiss onto your head.

"just do me a favour next time.." he hums, his tone teasing as he bites back a chuckle. "if you don't like my kettle, tell me. no need to break it.