#contrarily me

[dol-dee]

Monster of your own making

[acrazybayernfan]

August 22th 2014 : The first Bundesliga game, Bayern - Wolfsburg (2-1)

Thomas congratulating Robert for his assist to Robben.

[woodsteingirl]

choosing to believe it happened at like 8 pm on a monday or something and i was just like i need to be sexist

[mariasont]

Give This Old Man a Heart Attack - A.H

a/n: incredibly self-indulgent per usual because i'm the biggest cry baby to ever exist

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: you make a mistake that almost gets you killed and hotch has a few choice words about it

warnings: slight angst, happy endings, established relationship, you're in trouble, suggestive ending nothing crazy, hotch is a sucker and gives in way too easily to you

wc: 0.9k

You were an idiot. You were so utterly stupid, and you could feel the heat coursing through you, prickling at your fingertips and scorching your ears. You had braced yourself for this moment all day, but the sheer anger in Hotch's eyes was something no amount of bracing could shield you from.

You were quite accustomed to his eerily tranquil expression, often misleading, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Today though, you were the focus of that discerning stare. 

"Do you understand that gravity of your actions today?"

You were fighting every urge to cry. Confrontation had always been your Achillies' heel, a fact that seemed laughable given your line of work.

You weren't talking about the type of confrontation that came with gunning down unsubs or running into burning buildings. No, it was the intimate kind, the kind that involved the disappointment in the eyes of those you cared about, those you respected, especially him.

So here you stood, tears simmering at the edges of your vision, your hands fidgeting and folding over themselves, knuckles whitening with the pressure.

Your lips parted, ready to speak, to defend yourself, but the rising lump in your throat held the words captive. Silence seemed like the better choice, so you offered a nod instead.

Hotch's hand briefly obscured his face, thumb and middle finger pressing against the bridge of his nose, as he cast a handful of documents onto his desk. They landed haphazardly, a chaotic reflection of the mistakes you made on this case.

"You could've gotten killed." Each word was forced out between clenched teeth. Never a good sign. "In fact, you were this close."

You felt his assessment was inflated, but now was definitely not the right time to point that out. You swallowed the rising retort and cautiously shifted a fraction closer to the desk, eyes flicking to the closed door behind you.

"I'm sorry, Aaron," you said softly, voice betraying the slightest fracture. "It won't happen again."

The sound of your strained syllables caused his head to jerk up. Contrarily, you recoiled, bowing your head into your chest as you feigned interested in the carpet's intricate threads. It was an interesting color. 

You failed to register him circling the desk. Not until the space between you was nearly nonexistent. The toe of his shoes just within your field of view. They were semi-brogue oxfords. His favorite.

The accumulated emotions of the week finally broke through, your shoulders trembling as you frantically brushed away the mortifying tears with your sleeve, only to feel his hands on your shoulders, drawing you into his chest.

"No, no," you protested, but the resistance in your voice was absent in your actions, as you found yourself easily giving into the warmth of his chest. "Don't feel bad for me just because I'm crying."

He said nothing, just a faint hum that filled the space, the vibrations sending ripples across your cheek. 

"You—, you were reprimanding me," you paused to sniffle, "and I deserve to be reprimanded. I know what I did was stupid."

"It was." His hand lay on your back, thumb circling lightly through your dress shirt, nearly burning through the fabric. "But I'm not going to continue to berate you when I feel as though you've learned your lesson."

"You weren't berating me," you mumble against his shirt.

"I made you cry."

When you looked up, your saw the concern etched on his face, brows pinched, a frown marring his handsome face. His hands cradled your face, thumbs gently clearing the tears as you breathed out a sigh.

"I think you know me well enough to know that it doesn't take much to make me cry."

This was true. You kept your emotions were always close to the surface, whether from happiness, sadness, or sheer frustration. 

Once you had sobbed over the unequal lengths of your shoelace bows. Morgan then proceeded to ask if you had ever been tested for autism.

"It doesn't make it any more disheartening to see," he said, shifting his hands to rest on your shoulders. He looked tired and it made you want to cry all over again.

"Would you feel that way if I was Reid?" You asked. It was a loaded question. One you peppered him with often.

You had strived to draw clear lines between your professional and personal lives, but moments like this made it very difficult. 

He didn't even bother you with a response, and he didn't need to. You knew the answer.

Another quick look over your shoulder, and you pressed a swift kiss to his lips. There was a moment of hesitation from him, the stickler for rules that he is, but soon his restraint gave way, his hand seeking you with a desperate intensity.

He drew back just enough to study your face, like he was trying to commit every detail to memory, like he was making sure you were really there.

"You really scared me today," he confessed, your foreheads resting together as your eyes locked.

"I know."

"Please don't do that again," he implored, pausing only to plant another quick kiss on your upper lip. "This old man's heart can only take so much."

You beamed at him with a cheeky smile. "I can't make any guarantees."

As you headed for the door, he sent a quick slap to your ass, drawing out a bubbly giggle that vibrated through the room.

That old man's heart definitely might give out after what you had planned for tonight.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[gor3sigil]

I’m Trans and Insane and I’m doing fine.

[TW Psychosis, transphobia, psychophobia, medication, psych ward]

“Are you sure ?” she asked.

I remember looking back at her in disbelief, because that was certainly a question I never asked her when she came out.

“Why do you ask ?” I say.

“Dude, I’ve seen you go into depersonalization so hard you even thought you were a human soul in a robot vessel and now, you want me to trust you when you say that you, too, are trans ?”

That’s the memory that comes back to me as I fold and put in my bag my psychiatrist’s note attesting that I suffer from gender dysphoria, NOT LINKED to any psychotic symptoms. Here it goes in my folder with my prescription note, an increase - again - of my anti depressants and Xan, and my endocrinologist’s HRT prescription, increased too - finally.

I go to two separate pharmacies to pick up each prescription for two reasons:

There is only one in this godforsaken town that always had testosterone in stock.

I can’t explain to you with words the look you can get when you give back to back, to someone who, despite not being a doctor, works in healthcare, a note for trans HRT and then a note for psychiatric meds.

And I’m lucky, because I’m not taking antipsychotics anymore. Contrarily to what you could think, it doesn’t magically makes the voices and the shadowy people disappear, but it can make a mess of your head pretty bad and my doctor and I both agreed that I didn’t need more damage up here than what I already had. And no, it doesn’t make your delusions vanish magically too: in fact, I was still pretty certain that I was talking to my soul family out here in Argentine telepathically about my mission on Earth, the meds just made it more difficult to understand their voices, but the belief was still solid.

Anyways, I’m back home with the Hoy Grail I fought tooth and nails to get: a letter from the Sacred Council of Mental Sanity also known as Psychiatry that I was, indeed, a bit delulu, but also trans, and that both things didn’t play into each other. My transness wasn’t a delusion, my delusions didn’t have anything to do with being trans.

Or did it ?

Chicken or egg, you know the drill. Did I have my selves fractured before and one of the piece that shattered my brain happened to make me trans or was I just trans with a shitload of traumas in the back that made me insane ?

But don’t worry, at least, trans people when we’re together, we have each other’s back ! Right ?

“Transidentity ISN’T a mental illness !! We don’t DESERVE to be FORCIBLY LOCKED UP and MEDICATED and MADE TO CONFORM FOR OTHER’S SENSE OF SECURITY !!”

Neither do I, RIGHT ?

Oh

Or do I ?

Remember what she said, my girlfriend, right at the beginning ?

How I can’t be trusted about myself when sometimes I don’t even have a sense of self anymore or I have too much selves who fight against each other ?

And what do we say to that ?

Get treatment. Get in-patient. Take medication. And for the love of God, shut the fuck up about it, you’re giving us a bad name.

Because being trans and crazy can’t exist. It’s absurd. You have to fix one of these two things. Choose which jacket I’ll wear, and they call it a straitjacket for a reason it seems, so am I queer or am I insane ?

All I know today is there isn’t a universe in which I’m a trans without any mental illnesses, or mentally ill without being trans. And yet, I can’t tell you how many time I got asked “do you think you’d be trans if you never got through [x trauma] ?”. I. Don’t. Know. I’ll never know. And I deserve just as much agency as you get despite being mentally ill. If you don’t believe in that, don’t come yapping about “liberation for all of us”, but “if one of us is crazy they’ll all think I am too and that can’t happen”.

No LGBTQIAA+ person deserves to be told they need to be put away, to be cured, to be allowed out in the open only if they’re deemed “acceptable” by society’s standards. And no mentally ill people deserve to either.

No trans person should be going through years of counseling to have the access to HRT.

And I shouldn’t have had to threaten my own mother’s life to avoid being locked in an adult psych ward at 14.

If you ever think, for one second, that these two things have nothing to do with one another, you are far removed from history.

To hear queer people say “yeah but some mentally ill people are dangerous !” feels like you don’t even know where you come from.

And if I want to say, that me being trans is linked to me being mentally ill, or at least, that both are connected in a way, all hell breaks fucking loose.

So I’ll explain very carefully.

See, when I was young, my mind got shattered into a thousand of pieces I had to try to glue back on. All these pieces of myself broke further more down the line because I couldn’t catch a fucking break. And now, it happens that the final puzzle does not have the same face it had before. It happens that its shape changed over time, for reasons over the control of all of us who tried to build ourselves back. Now there’s a bigger picture, less pieces, a few other shadows, and me. Built from the shatters. With my own needs and afflictions.

And whoever you are, whatever your agenda might be, I will not let anyone take any agency away from me under the false pretext that I can’t know anything for myself. They say that about children, they say that about minorities, about physically disabled people, about the people they want OUT. And my trans siblings, you know that.

I came out for the first time 7 years ago, to my then girlfriend, who was the one asking the question that is the first sentence of this text. I came out a second time 3 years ago. Been on HRT, had top surgery, had psychotic breaks, got my meds changed, switch therapist.

Because I am trans and crazy. And yet, all these choices I made, I made myself. It didn’t have to be that hard to get the basic care I needed. It didn’t need to be. But it WAS. And I’m part of the lucky crowd of people who had access to out-patient treatment, who never have been locked up in ward, who managed to stay alive through meds withdrawals without medical assistance when I had no therapist.

Be very careful of when you start to put conditions on the rights you think you deserve. Be very, very careful about your definition of sanity and of how it warps the way you see people. When you start to say “I have access to that, but there’s people like X or Y who shouldn’t BECAUSE”, pause and ask yourself what led you to think this way. More often than not, you’ll find yourself playing the same mind games as the ones you swore to fight against, and when it gives them the upper hand, they won’t hesitate to come for you after that.

[ambros1an]

Hsr characters in a Soulmate au

warnings: sunday backstory, implied Gopher Wood being a bad father (Sunday), implied stellaron hunter Sunday, discrimination (aventurine, not said by reader), debt (aventurine), firefly backstory, 2.0-2.2 penacony spoilers

characters: Sunday, Aventurine, Firefly

a/n: it's so obvious who's my #1 fav in this

Sunday: writing

Throughout the world, everyone had the ability to communicate to their soulmates through writing on their own skin.

Sunday doesn't remember much about his childhood. His home-world was entrenched in war. The only constant in his life was his own sister, and the strange symbols on his wrists.

After being taken in by Gopher Wood, he would be taught that those symbols were words, and they came from his Soulmate. Excitedly, he'd take to the books to communicate with the person on the other end. At first it was little doodles, then broken sentences, and then full on conversations.

He wrote about his sister, the charmony dove, music and literature. One day, the writing stopped. You'd jot down messages in concern, so worried to the point your hand writing looked like illegible scribbles. He never did tell you his name after all.

After years, finally you got a response.

'Meet me at Dreamflux Reef, here, at 8 pm.' You couldn't help but notice that your soulmate's penmanship had improved after all these years. The once poor excuse for cursive wasn't just printed letters attached to one another, but font-like in it's neatness with broad loops. Despite the brief words written on your skin, your stomach rolled. Was it nerves or excitement?

There was a little hand-drawn map, taking up a portion of your forearm, with an 'X' on the location. You approached the streetlight ahead of you. It was five minutes before 8 pm, at the exact area he told you to be at.

There was somebody there. In the darkness, it was hard to see. The streetlight offered little brightness. Just a faint glow upon whoever it was. They were clearly halovian, a light bounced off their halo, providing a shine in your line of sight. Contrarily, they stood in dark clothes. And seemed to be fidgeting...as if waiting for someone.

As if on cue, the figure straightens up and turns to look at you. Those grey feathers and yellow eyes were unmistakable.

"Mr. Sunday?" The man hasn't been seen since the Order was chased out of Penacony.

"I didn't expect you to show up early," Sunday gives a halfhearted chuckle, then he calls your name, "you are them, right?"

"Yes, but-" You look towards your arm where the writing is located.

He sighs and shakes his head, "I...I'm the one who's been writing to you all these years." Sunday lifts his sleeve, on it is your reply to him, asking where he's been, and saying you'd be there.

Your soulmate was Sunday. The former head of the Oak Family. An MIA criminal. But also your childhood friend, who you never met.

There was so much to say, but the only thing you could think to ask was, "Why? You've been gone for so long..."

"I'm sorry. My fa-the dream master, prevented me from reaching out to you. He wanted me to be 'the chosen one' for The Order. I'm sorry that it took so long for me to-"

Gently, you put your arms around him.

"I was so worried. Please, talk to me. About everything."

He would, but now, all he wanted to do was rest in your embrace.

Aventurine: eye color

Everyone has one of their eyes the same eye color as their soulmate’s, until they meet.

It’s something that’s so arbitrary and meaningless to most people. There are only so many colors in the universe after all. But not yours.

“Sigonian.” Disdain.

“Poor child.” Pity.

“Whoever your soulmate is, you’re better off not meeting them.” Disgust.

Sigonia. A far off planet somewhere in the galaxy. Lightyears away. Where a people known for their unique eyes resides. Or used to reside.

Looking into the mirror, your right eye looks back at you, it’s a purple tinged with blue. You wonder what your soulmate’s would’ve looked like. You’ve long since accepted that any possible soulmate would’ve died years ago. Not even baseless rumors could settle any feelings of loss.

Knock Knock

Debt collectors.

The gentle knocks turn into bangs. The person standing outside takes a full walk around your house, peering inside any windows in search of you. The IPC was relentless when it came to debt. They'd make constant calls, tell your neighbors, blackmail their debtors, tack on more and more money, all to collect as much money as possible.

Just as your nerves calm down your phone rings. It's from a family member.

"Hello?"

"Hello, I'm calling from the IPC." That's not them. The voice is male with a smoothness to his voice. He disguised his number.

Just when you're about to hang up, "Don't hang up yet, I have a proposition for you." He instructs you to open the door.

You follow his instructions. Each step you make, the pit in your stomach gets wider. The door creeks as you turn the knob.

Two purple eyes, with a blue ring around the pupil. Sigonian. His eyes mirror your right one. But, within his reflection you see your own two regular colored eyes. Wait-

The man's mouth drops in shock, but instantly pulls into a grin. He hangs up the call.

"I see what's going on here. This time, the charge is on me," Aventurine insists. He's covered in designer clothing from head to toe, with golden rings lining each finger. You know right then and there that anything you say will get you nowhere. You're just glad he seems to be on your side.

"...Thank you."

"Mmm, but I never said it was without recompense." Shit. "In return, I'll provide you with a better place to live. This place is a bit...run down," he takes a glance around your home, and you can't help but feel embarrassed.

"Thank you, Aventurine, but that just sounds like I'll be in your debt."

He waves you off. "Debt? No, friend. What kind of partner would I be to let my soulmate fend for themselves?"

Firefly : timer

Every person across the galaxy has a timer leading up to the meeting of their soulmate.

4,000 years. Approximately 35,040,000 hours.

That was what Firefly had.

When she first awoke in her incubation chamber, it felt like she could wait forever. Their purpose was to devote their entire being to Glamoth. She did not dream. Not of the warmth of someone’s hands in theirs. Not of someone telling her that she was more. That was not a right of a weapon.

Yet, under the ashen sky and fields of smoke, not a single light shone through. Glamoth would never see the sun again. That was no place for a firefly.

For the last time she broke all protocol.

They unfurled their wings and chased the light. Finally, Unit AR-26710’s heart fluttered for a purpose that wouldn’t destroy.

24 hours = 1,440 minutes = 86,400 seconds.

They’d be landing in Penacony soon. She looked at her wrist, where the countdown was located. 1 day. She could feel her heart beat in her throat; she was so nervous.

Love. Kafka taught her that emotion. She’d never felt it before. Not that way.

Her eyes never left the window.

5 minutes = 300 seconds.

299, 298, 297, 296… Thinking in seconds was faster than minutes. It made time go faster. Minutes felt like eternity.

120, 119, 118, 117… Were they standing in the same area? Could she be looking at them right now? How far apart were they? Would they be tall or short? Would they be the time to put milk before cereal? Would they even like her?

10, 9, 8, 7… She watched the time tick away. She didn’t dare to look up least she burn up from the inside. It felt like her propulsion accidentally activated.

4, 3, 2, 1—

A figure crashed into her from behind. “I’m so sorry!”

0

She turned to look, and there you were. Yet, there was no celebration like she imagined. No hugging. No holding each other in an embrace. Instead, your face was pulled into grimace. Your arm gently interlocking with hers. Your posture was tight and hunched. All the signs of an uneasy person. Two Bloodhound members trailed after you.

“Did we do something wrong?” Firefly moved to stand in front of you

“That’s classified information,” one of the bloodhound guards say, gaze shifting off to look at you.

“I really didn’t do anything.” You look at Firefly with a pleading look.

The girl looks back at you and nods. She grabs your hand, the one the countdown is located on and charges for the alleys.

You hear the slap of their shoes against the concrete. The hurried pants of the guards. The footsteps behind you get louder and closer. In spite of the danger, all you can think about is the girl whose fingers are intertwined with yours. It brings a rush to your cheeks that only a breeze can soothe.

When your soulmate rounds the corner of the alley, her warm hand laced with yours turn a cold metallic. Her other hand placed around the small of your back in support. The suit of the armor is cold against your skin, but there’s a heat that radiates from the chest of the mech. It soothes your nerves. The lack of heat from her hand interlocked with yours may be replaced, but it was welcome.

When she unwraps her wings from behind her suit, a warm air erupts around you. Suddenly, you’re in the sky. The wind ruffles your hair, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when it dawns on you that you’re in your soulmate’s arms.

‘How would the other hunters react if they knew she blew her cover? Kafka was definitely going to tease her."

a/n #2: aven's was so hard to write. he feels like such a sleazebag in this but its only because he's in work mode I promise !! I want to do more of these bc it was fun.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Daemon’s daughter and being in love with Aemond. Sprinkle some taytay songs in there

Request: Daddy I love him with Aemond I beg you

Although the song title references The Little Mermaid, the lyrics screams Aemond. I started writing this when the TTPD came out, but I lost the file (I searched for it but it’s no longer there…) and had to start over -_-

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’But Father, I love him!’’ 

The words escaped your lips before you could hold them back. 

Daemon's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he registered the implication of your words. He had forbidden you from courting Aemond Targaryen long ago. He thought the matter was solved, that the one-eyed prince was out of your head – of your heart —, but apparently you had gone behind his back and disrespected his authority. He shouldn't be surprised; you were your father's daughter, after all.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. He knew all too well that you had inherited his fiery temper, and a clash between your wills would only end in disaster. ‘’Love?’’ Daemon scoffed, his voice dripping with skepticism. ‘’What do you know about love?’’

Your eyebrows knitted together in a frown, hurt and anger flaring within you. Just because you were young didn't mean you couldn’t know what love was. Your feelings for Aemond were true and pure. 

‘’You are not to see Aemond anymore. I don’t want you to ever go back to King’s Landing. Am I understood?’’ Daemon's voice was cold and authoritative, leaving no room for argument.

‘’You can’t cage me in this castle,’’ you shot back, your defiance burning brightly.

‘’But I can assign a guard to follow you around,’’ Daemon countered, his tone unyielding. ‘’Do not underestimate how far I will go to keep you from him.’’

The room fell into a tense silence as you watched your father leave your chambers, slamming the door behind. 

You wanted to scream in anger and frustration. Why was everyone protesting your and Aemond’s courtship? In a realm where political marriages overpowered ones of true love, they should be happy for you. Instead, they were demonizing the man you loved. 

Aemond didn’t always make the right choices, but he was not a bad person. He had a heart, and genuinely cared for you — contrarily to what your father believed. You met him on the day of your mother’s funeral. He found you in a corner of Driftmark, crying by yourself. He offered you comfort while your father was avoiding his daughters, not knowing what to say to any of you.  

⁂

If your father thought he could control you by having a guard follow you around all day, he was strongly mistaken. A fortnight had gone since he forbade you to see Aemond, and you were already planning an escape. You had sent a raven to King's Landing, informing Aemond of all that happened with your father and requesting to meet you at the Iron Gate on the new moon, which was tonight. 

You waited until nightfall to change into your riding clothes and sneak out of Dragonstone castle. Assuming you were sleeping, Ser Erryk had left from his post and gone abed for the night in the sword quarters, leaving you without a chaperon until morning.

The flight to King’s Landing took longer than you had calculated, but you made it before the first ships would sail through Blackwater Bay. 

From above, Aemond could be seen waiting for you by the gate, standing tall in his black leathers and his sword secured on his hip. He must have been waiting for you for most of the night. 

You landed with your dragon on the shore, and skillfully dismounted before running up to him. Your hair billowed in the wind, the joy spreading on your face as you got closer and closer. A warmth spread through your chest as he finally embraced you, his arms closing around you, holding you tight. 

‘’You are here,’’ Aemond murmured in your hair. ‘’I was beginning to believe your plan had been discovered.’’ He released you, taking your gloved hands in his and kissing them. ‘’Come. It’s cold out.’’ 

Sneaking inside the Red Keep was nothing new. You had done it many times. 

The door of Aemond’s chambers closed behind you. He cupped your chin and pulled you up towards him, his lips finding yours like a magnetic pull was forcing them together. A soft, loving kiss, making up for the time spent apart. 

You wrapped your arms around Aemond’s neck as you felt him grabbing your thighs and lifting you up to press you against his body. The maneuver was much easier without a dress in the way. You tangled your fingers in the back of his hair, wrapping your legs around his slim waist as you nipped at his bottom lip. 

Aemond let out a guttural moan, breaking the kiss. ‘’Don’t,’’ he warned, his lips so close you felt his warm breath when he spoke. ‘’You drive me mad when you do that…’’ 

His warning triggered your defiance. With mischief in your eyes, you took his bottom lip between your teeth, and released it. ‘’That?’’ you asked, playing the innocent card. 

Aemond’s eye darkened at your defiance, and he gave you a glare that could make even the bravest men run for the hills. He walked you over to his bed, setting you down on his velvet sheets. You pulled him down with you, but Aemond stopped you, standing to remove his sword and anything that would bother him when holding you close. 

You wished you had more time together, but you needed to depart for Dragonstone before the sun started to rise. If you stay longer, your father will be alerted of your empty bed and you’ll have to face the wrath of his anger.

⁂

Drenched in rainwater, guards opened the doors as you stepped inside the castle. You got caught by the rain on your way back, which slowed you down. 

Without surprise, your father was waiting for you in the great hall.

His voice was stern as he questioned you. ‘’Where have you been?’’ Daemon waited expectantly for your explanation, although he already has his suspicions. 

He had been your age once. It seemed some of his worse traits were in you too — stubborn, defiant, impulsive. And now he was the one who had to deal with it. Add to this your mother’s fiery personality, and it became Daemon’s worst nightmare. 

Fortunately for him, your sister did not share those traits as strongly as you. 

‘’Good morrow to you, Father. Did you sleep well?’’ you asked, trying to find a quick lie. 

Would he believe you if you said you went for an early walk on the beach?

Daemon's eyes narrowed as you evaded his question with your own greeting. ‘’Don't play games with me, young lady. A maid came in to see if you needed help dressing for the day, and found your bed empty. Dragon gone. You were with him!’’ His voice dripped with venom.

You couldn't hide your late night escapades from him. There was no point in trying. 

With his gaze fixed on you he continued. ‘’He's going to ruin your life, ruin your name,’’ Daemon roared, slamming his fists on the painted table just as Rhaenyra walked in, holding baby Viserys on her hip.

‘’I do not care! My name is mine alone to disgrace. He’s the one I want, the one I love,’’ you shot back, wishing he could see past his hatred. 

‘’May I know what it is with the loud voices this morning?’’ Rhaenyra asked, glancing between you and Daemon. ‘’You can be heard in the villages below the Dragonmont.’’ 

Your father turned his gaze toward his wife, trying to keep his temper in check. ‘’She flew to King’s Landing in the dead of the night to see that one-eyed Hightower cunt!’’

‘’Do not call him that!’’ Your eyes were blazing with anger. 

‘’Daemon,’’ Rhenyra scolded, her eyes going to young Viserys who should not be hearing such words. 

‘’Don’t go thinking I am out of ways to keep you away from him,’’ Daemon warned. ‘’You might have slipped from Ser Erryk’s watch, but I will exile you to Pentos if that’s what it takes. The Prince’s son is conveniently looking for a wife.’’

Your eyes welled with tears, but you blinked them away. Pentos was where your mother died. The thought of going there and being forced to build a family made you unwell. ‘’Y-you wouldn’t dare.’’ 

‘’I would. You will not marry Aemond Targaryen. I’ll never allow it.’’

‘’I’m afraid you have no choice,’’ you said, straightening your back before bringing a hand over your stomach. ‘’His babe is in my womb.’’ 

A murderous look twisted on Daemon’s face. His hand tightened over his sword, as if he was ready to bolt on Caraxes and behead Aemond Targaryen. Kinslayer was not a title he was afraid of. 

Beside him, Rhaenyra grabbed his arm, silently telling him to not do anything impulsive. 

‘’No, I'm not,’’ you quickly added, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. ‘’But you should see your faces.’’ 

—

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[earthtooz]

x : ABUNDANCE :*+ﾟ

in which: rin doesn’t know when to stop spoiling you and you don't know how to stop him either.

warnings: rich pro-athlete!rin, gn!reader- reader wears lip gloss and perfume but i am an avid believer that they are gn, rin is dramatic (tm), fluff, swearing. 1.6k wc

a/n: rin is a clown in my eyes LMFAO no but this was kinda self-indulgent and i just can't stray too far from itoshi rin before he inevitably pulls me back. haven't written anything for him in a while so it feels good to be back to my roots. also no i'm not off break lol i did say that i was still gonna write and come back to post hehe. ENJOY!! rbs appreciated !!

itoshi rin doesn’t know when to stop spoiling you.

and you didn’t know how to get him to stop spoiling you. you could never resist his presents no matter what shape or size, whether they were little nendoroids of your favourite anime characters to the latest designer bags, you would always accept them with a grateful smile. 

however, there’s always a tug of guilt at your chest that makes you little hesitant, not wanting rin to waste unnecessary money on you. yet whenever you make this feeling known to rin, he scoffs and waves your concerns off, ending the conversation there as he urges you to open his presents, more concerned about your reaction than how much money is being extracted from his account.

what’s the point of money if he can’t spoil you with it? that’s always been his philosophy. besides, it’s not like you’re forcing him to, so what’s the big deal?

if there was a certain brand of perfume you wanted, he was going to buy it. if you needed a bigger monitor then he’ll buy it. if you needed a streaming platform to watch a certain show on then he’d buy it too, not a problem. in fact, you’re sure rin is funding the spotify premium for your account because he got tired of all the ads he had to listen to when sharing headphones with you. 

despite rin’s insistence that he was more than okay to spend money on you, it didn’t stop the growing feeling of guilt festering in your gut. so eventually you stopped bringing up things you wanted to buy in front of rin, leaving to write them down in your notes app instead.

the pro-athlete doesn’t question the abrupt lack of complaints about things you needed to buy, leaving him blissfully unaware of the things you had been buying for yourself and him. 

this dance continues for a little and it’s not until date night three weeks later that he figures you out. you never stood a chance against rin’s perceptiveness especially when one of his favourite things to do was watch you get ready for said date nights, leaving it only a matter of time before he’d realise,

“looking gorgeous as always,” he compliments whilst walking up to stand behind you, dressed handsomely in a crisp suit with his hair swept sideways- a hairstyle he began to wore more often when he realised how often you stared at him during a boring sponsorship event which turned out a lot more eventful thanks to the simple hair change.

you smile at him in the mirror as rin places a kiss on the side of your head, hand going to your hip before situating himself on the bed, glancing down at his watch to check that you were still on time for the dinner reservation.

when he looks back up at you, his eyes zero in on the foreign lipgloss you were holding in your hands and the small smile rin wore falls into a scowl. rin knows he didn’t get that for you, and judging from the sleekness of the packaging, it looks new. he withholds his suspicions, brushing them off.

alarms blare in rin’s head again when he notices the foreign highlighter in your hands. contrarily, you remain ignorant to rin’s inquisitive stare as you lean in close to the mirror to apply the product, too used to the usual intensity of his gaze to bat an eye. 

the last straw is the perfume you use, spritzing it on your wrists, behind your ears and neck, doing a little fanning motion with your hands once you were done.

“okay, i’m ready, let’s go before we’re lat-” you say, turning around to look at rin, cutting yourself off when you notice the look of distraught on his face. “what’s the matter?”

walking over to where he sat, you leisurely lay your forearms on his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his cheek whilst doing so. the smell of your foreign perfume enters his nose and although it was a very nice and charming scent, the athlete’s nose scrunches in displeasure, eyebrows furrowing further. 

“do i have something on my face?” you ask, backing away. rin grabs your hands before you can stray too far. 

“no, not that,” he puts your hands on his shoulders again. “did you always have this lipgloss? and i don’t recognise this perfume.”

“oh, i bought it not too long ago.” 

he looks at you as though you’ve committed the most blasphemous offence against him, which, you did. “excuse me?”

“i bought it?” you reaffirm, a lilt of confusion in your tone. 

rin narrows his eyes, combating your confusion with scrutiny. “you bought it.” you nod. “with your own money?”

“duh.”

he exhales loudly through his nose and you can feel the judgement oozing off him. “no that’s not right. i have to fix this.”

abruptly swapping your positions so that you were now sitting on the bed, rin disappears into the bathroom, emerging with a pack of makeup removers before sifting through your numerous products, that look of concentration never leaving his face.

“we’re gonna be late, rin,” you say from where he planted you, watching helplessly as your boyfriend approaches to stand in front of you, crouching down to be eye level with you. rin takes out a wipe from the packet before gently rubbing it on your lips, touch contrastingly gentle to his fiery gaze. 

“don’t care. this is more important.” 

rin fiddles with the highlighter that he bought for you, opening it cautiously and using the same brush you always use as he carefully paints your skin with the glitter. it amazes you just how observant rin is as he traces all the spots correctly, knowing you down to of the most insignificant, tiny details.

he does the same with the lip gloss, opening the familiar bottle before putting a luxurious amount of the product over your lips. you don’t complain about it, not when rin’s nose scrunches in concentration and not when he makes a disgruntled noise because he overlined the lip gloss, wiping it from the corner of your mouth.

nevertheless, when rin pulls away, he admires his handiwork with a content grin, the scowl now fading. “much better,” he mumbles, grinning slightly. before you could say anything though, the athlete stumbles away to put your makeup away, returning with a bottle of perfume that he also bought for you.

“do not spray that on me. the scents will clash,” you threaten. rin blinks at you before grabbing your wrist, spritzing a small amount before repeating the same step on your other pulse points.

his actions were sweet and you understood that rin had good intentions, but through the endearment you felt for your lover, there is an undeniable feeling of dejection settling within you. “i liked the products that i bought,” you murmur, tone slightly downcast as you express your thoughts. “i like using my own money sometimes too, rin.” 

the smile rin wore falls ever so slightly as he looks at your somewhat-dejected form, crouching in front of you instinctively as to get a better glance at your face. 

“i feel horrible whenever you use your money on me. especially on things that are way too expensive and way out of my budget. i don’t want people- i don’t want you to get the wrong idea of us,” you confess the last part breathily, rubbing your arms awkwardly. “and i hate feeling like i owe something to you.”

“hey, you know that will never happen, we’re not like that,” he rubs a hand on your knee reassuringly. “i buy things for you because i know, and don’t talk about this lukewarm shit about ‘owing’ me. if anything i owe you for putting up with me.”

you let his words sink in with a sigh, focusing on the warmth of rin’s palm. 

“and i also buy things for you because you only deserve the best. none of that mediocre crap that anybody can buy.” 

“but what if i like the ‘lukewarm shit’?”

“then you need better tastes, but i guess i have no choice but to buy it for you.” he stands up ever so slightly to kiss you.

you back away, cutting him off with a press of your finger against his lips. “rin. no.” 

he gives you a withering glare for denying his affection. 

“that’s not the point. as much as i love and appreciate it when you do buy things for me, i would also appreciate it if you let me use my own money too.” 

the soccer player backs away, eyes scanning your expression to decide on what to say next. he sighs when he sees the determination in your face and like a dam giving out, it’s the first sign of rin’s stubbornness surrendering to your pleas.  “fine, i’ll respect your choice, but it doesn’t mean that i like it.”

you grin, pulling him back in for the kiss he wanted earlier, catching rin off guard briefly before his shock subsides, letting him melt right into you. your lipgloss was now effectively ruined but you didn’t have it in you to care much. rin could always reapply it for you. 

“but i’m paying for dinner,” he asserts against your mouth. 

“deal.”

you return home tomorrow to see the same products you bought for yourself on your shared bed. except brand new and still in their sleek packages. 

what were you going to do with rin?

[chososluv]

P L U G ! Y U K I

✎₊˚⊹♡ summary & note: a continuation of my plug series and my interpretation of what plug!yuki would be like. i really enjoyed writing this one might've been my favorite thus far. . .sortve proofread and subject to edit! it i just got rlly excited to share this ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

🏷 tags & warnings:  smut 18+, black!fem reader, black coded, weed smoking, oral sex, fingering, creaming, squirting, yuki got da strap, petnames (ma,mamas, pretty girl) top!yuki but mentions of you returning the favor

✎₊˚ word count: 3.9k

minors do not interact

Plug!Yuki is a girl's girl.

Unlike plug!toji and plug!choso, Plug!Yuki and you developed a relationship as really good friends before she became your plug. You confided in her one evening in passing that you hadn’t smoked in so long and missed the cannabis high from your undergraduate years. She decided to let you in on a secret at your proclamation.

"You know I'm a plug.... right, mama?"

Plug!Yuki had took that time to casually drop on you that she was a lucrative supplier and that's how she was paying her student loans off. It was quite a surprise to you if you were honest. You knew she smoked, but you didn’t know she was one of the most popular dealers on campus.

Plug!Yuki would start slipping you nugs for you to try out from the new strains she would cop from a new drops. It was from the first quarter ounce she gave you for free it became unspoken that she was your plug going forward and you loved it. She wasn’t a shady nigga who only spoke to you through snapchat, but instead a gorgeous, stunning, and trustworthy woman.

Plug!Yuki's looks aside, she's a legit business woman with her craft. She packages up all her drops in pretty pink bags and sometimes throws in medicinal paper wraps fused with lavender and fancy shit. All of these things at your disposal for free because Yuki Tsukumo liked you that much. You almost had it all.

Almost because you had a sweltering crush on Plug!Yuki.

Smoking in close quarters with Plug!Yuki was truly a test of your discipline. Whether it was in the car, at her place, or at yours, the background melted away and she had your undivided attention. A gravitational pull seems to always occur because you always ended up so close to her. So close you can always see the way her soft lips pucker against the blunt and always you yearn to taste them directly and not from the blunt you share.

Plug!Yuki is a goddess when she smokes. Everything about the way she inhales, exhales, and giggles when she's under the influence of cannabis makes you feel deeply enticed by her even more. The way her eyes sink low and go red made her face fall into a seductive gleam and whenever she looks at you with it you feel so weak.

You can’t recall when you started crushing on Plug!Yuki, but you remember one night you awoke with an ache between your thighs, breath raging as you recovered from a wet dream of your best friend and plug going down on you. From that moment forward you felt different towards her, but you never entertained telling her. You didn't want to ruin the beautiful and close relationship you two have. So, you pushed yourself into thinking you would grow out of it or maybe someone would distract you from her.

But Plug!Yuki would never let that happen.

Contrarily to you, Plug!Yuki was confronted with her feelings for you when one of her best friends, Suguru, asked about you.

"Whats up with y/n? You think I got a chance with mama, Yuki?" Yuki turned her head a bit too fast at her friend, arching an eyebrow as jealousy and possessiveness began to spread through her veins like a nasty virus.

"Fallback, if you wanna keep this friendship, Suguru." Plug!Yuki answered honestly and Shoko bursted into boisterous laughter.

"You owe me!" She said before puffing off her lit cigarette. Satoru could be heard groaning, fishing money out of his pocket to slap into the woman's hand.

"Wait so is y/n completely off limits or is just Suguru because mama got a fat-" Satoru couldn't finish his sentence because Yuki promptly picked up a nearby object and hurled it at Satoru's direction. He giggled, ducking before running out the room before Yuki decided throwing shit wasn't enough and needed to shoot him. Everyone present to that moment sees Plug!Yuki has feelings for you and knew it was only a matter a time before she finally acted on them. But they saw that look in Yuki's eyes whenever you were around and knew the mental blockade she was at war with. That internal battle of fear and rejection was holding Yuki back from making a move on you.

Women weren't hard for Yuki. If she wanted a girl she always got her, but you were different. Yuki didn't want to fumble you and she knew if she did she would be devastated.

So here the both of you were, crushing on one another yet no one made a move.

Until tonight. . .

Plug!Yuki and you currently sat smoking in her bedroom. You were laying down as the woman sat up, sharing a blunt between the two of you. It is a break between semesters and you two unwind the best way you two know how. Giggles fill the air along with the fragrance of cannabis and aroma from the takeout you two ordered earlier. The evening is languid and lazy just how you two wanted after a stressful semester.

“I missed you, mamas.” Plug Yuki coons, her voice raspy from smoking but the deeper voice is sexy on her. The husky tone made you shiver yet you feel heat flush to your cheeks at the pet name. Coupled with that and how intense Yuki looks at you tonight something felt different. Her stares seem to be lingering longer and the touches seem to be far more intimate than usual. Or maybe it was the strain you guys were smoking this evening?

"I missed you more," you pout, hand coming to her thigh and you stroke it delicately, "seeing Satoru and Suguru made me realize how bad I was deprived of you." Plug!Yuki wants to focus on your sweet words but she raises a brow.

"When were you with them?" The sudden question should throw you off, but the cannabis makes you miss the slight agitation in her voice.

"Couple days ago, they offered to take me to lunch for finishing the semester." You say to her and she rolls her eyes. You only laugh, playfully smacking her thigh from where your hand rested.

“They didn’t make you feel weird or anything right?” You shook your head.

“They were respectful,” you look up at Yuki from your position from the bed, “calm down. No one is gonna take me from you, baby.” You’re teasing her and don’t realize the affect your words have on her. The pink lighting in her room hides the light blush that dusts along her cheeks and she shakes her head, trying to shake that stupid grin that wants to stretch across her lips.

“They can be weird ass muthafuckas. Just making sure they didn’t try anything.” Yuki grumbles, taking a hit from the blunt to calm her nerves and you only peer at her. You have a smile on your face as you stretch out a hand to take the blunt.

“You mean they some ho ass niggas and you making sure they didn’t holla at me.” Still wearing that lazy grin, you inhale the blunt as you see the look that flashes over her face. You realize you were right.

“Yes that exactly, mama.” Yuki said, not bothering to fix up a lie because she knows you would see right through it. You look adoringly at her and offer the blunt back. She takes a generous drag, your expression sending butterflies to her stomach before you speak.

"Don't worry. They aren't my type, babes." You softly giggle, continuing to look up at Yuki and she smiles at the pet name. She has to take another hit from the blunt, more butterflies setting lose but with those butterflies came courage sprouting within. She takes this feeling and runs with it before she let cowardice return.

"What exactly is your type, beautiful?" The pet name comes out of Yuki's mouth before she can stop herself. She just wanted to come off casual and curious but now she feels like she's revealed her angle. Her crush on you felt obvious now and time seemed to slow as she awaited your response. Yuki sees you smile wide, peering up at her through your lashes before you spoke.

"Not Geto Suguru." You soothe her, that hand that you had on her thigh earlier creeped back. Your sneaky fingers began drawing circles and you bit back a cheeky smile as you felt goosebumps erect on her strong thighs. Yuki stares at you, wondering how you caught on to her disdain towards him lately. Ever since his comment about you she felt so sensitive regarding any topic pertaining to you. It got to the point where even just his name rolling off your tongue began to make her feel jealous.

So, when you had lunch with Suguru and Satoru you just had to ask.

"Something happen between you and Yuki?" You ask, taking a sip of your drink and Satoru looks at Suguru. Suguru only furrows his thick eyebrows, confused just as much as Satoru.

"No. Why did she say something?" Suguru asks and you shook your head.

"No, but she acts funny when I mention you." Lightbulbs seem to have went off in Satoru's head because a grin spreads across his face.

"Oh she's got it bad." The comment seemed to jolt something in Suguru's head too because then he laughed, making a noise of recollection and slapping the table in excitement.

"Oh fuck yeah, you're right!," Suguru looks at you, seeing the confused expression before explaining, "Yuki got mad cause I asked to holla at you. I think ole girl crushing on you, mama." Suguru finishes and you look at Satoru to see him nodding in confirmation. You look back at Suguru, not only shocked because 1) yuki did have a crush on you 2) suguru also had a crush on you but 3) not only did suguru have a crush on you but Yuki too?

You felt like your world was a giant paradox. You felt like time was slowed down, yet it was fast. You felt like the world was spinning, yet it was at a standstill. That feeling of your crush liking you back? You felt jubilant and delirious.

"Oh and don't tell Yuki we told you, ma. She'll kill us."

"Yeah please y/n."

You fall back to present time to watch the pretty woman lick her lips, eyes falling to the bed before she spoke.

"He's got a crush on you." Yuki says.

"I know." You answer, looking at Yuki as you waited for her to spill her own feelings.

"He wants you." Yuki sneers and you rub gentle circles to attempt to soothe her. You sit up from the bed, realizing this conversation was taking a serious turn. Upon sitting up, you didn't realize how close you were to Yuki until your noses were inches apart.

None of you dare to move though.

"I don't want him." You say, fingers skating up her thighs but Yuki doesn't notice. Or at least, she pretends not to.

"Who do you want, y/n?" Yuki finally has the courage to ask. You hold a stare with the woman, heat spreading along your cheeks as the question hangs heavy. You already had the answer though, you rehearsed it a million times since lunch with Suguru and Satoru.

"You, baby." You say. You barely can get a breath in before her soft lips you've been dreaming about are finally on yours. Elated can't even begin to describe the feeling resonating through your entire beings.

Plug!Yuki is the best kisser. She's precise, romantic, yet so salacious and seductive you kept chasing after her lips for more. Her sweet taste of mango gloss mixed with her natural sweetness was destined to become one of your favorite flavor. She takes a second to pause but you only try to dive back in for more. Her thumb comes to your bottom lip to stop you, giggling as she drinks in your needy expression.

"Been wantin' you for sometime, pretty girl." She confesses. You smile against her thumb, kissing the pad before speaking.

"I'm yours, baby."

Plug!Yuki makes you wish you confess sooner with the way her tongue skates along your swollen clit. She flickers her muscle skillfully, stimulating the beating nub in explicit and lewd circles that left you mewling and panting. Her blonde locks tickle your inner thighs as she feasts on your pussy.

No amount of vivid wet dreams could prepare you for the actual experience of Yuki eating you out.

"You taste so good, mama." Plug!Yuki moans shamelessly, she's squeezing her thighs together, knowing she has her own mess in her panties but she can't care. Not with the way you smell so delightful and writhe against her tongue. She looks up, seeing your nipples pebble through the thin cami you wore.

"Aaah—Yuki!" You're whimpering as she takes your clit in her mouth. She suckles, her soft finger slipping in curiously to feel the warmth of your cunt. She moans against your clit, vibrations sending you wailing as well as the sudden pressure from her finger. Yuki slips a second finger inside, loving the way your cunt squeezes so tightly around her fingers. The soft squelching your gummy walls made whenever she curved them up was an addicting melody to her ears. She was becoming pissed at herself for not acting on her desires for you sooner.

"You're so wet, baby." Yuki comments, looking down to see her fingers drenched with your arousal and cream and she's licking her lips. She pulls her tongue off your clit, sticking her fingers in her mouth to savor the taste. She's moaning lewdly and you only whimper from the loss of her ministrations. She smiles, looking up at you before crawling up your body.

Plug!Yuki is dying to have your nipples in her mouth. Ever since she saw them peek out for the first time due to a tanktop you wore she’s been wondering what they felt like against her tongue. What they tasted like and how sensitive they were crossed her mind too and now finally she would get her questions answered. She pulls down your top, freeing your breast and her tongue is aching to be back on your body. She licks her lips before speaking.

"Been dying to have these pretty brown nipples in my mouth so bad you don't even understand, pretty girl."

Plug!Yuki sucks on your nipples, her hot tongue swirling along your areola and the sensation drives you wild. Your back arches off the bed, fingers carding in her golden strands before pushing her face deeper into your chest. You let out out whimpers as she sloppily kisses and sucks on your nipples.

"Aahaaa—Yuki!—feels so good!" You praise when she sneaks her fingers back in. That warmth and wetness around her fingers again has her wondering if you needed her to dick you down.

"So wet and tight," Yuki releases your nipple, her lips wet and shiny from her salvia, "think you can take my strap, pretty girl?"

You didn't need her to ask you twice.

Plug!Yuki fucks you from behind like you never been fucked before.

The blonde woman has you face down in a nasty ass arch as she pistons her pretty pink dildo through your tight folds. You're whimpering, pleading even for her to not stop as she continues to give you the best dick of your life. You can't recall the last time someone made you feel this good during sex and you knew damn well no man could ever slang like she could.

"Yu—ki! Fucknnnggg!" She's fucking you dumb and you go stupid hearing your own ass recoil against her harness and the soft squelching of your cunt against her silicone piece. You want to bite on your lip to keep from screaming but she felt so good bullying herself between your folds.

"Feel good? Huh, my pretty girl?" Plug!Yuki cooes, still fucking you and a strong hand strikes down on your ass. You whimper, crying out and let out a hiss when her domineering fingers find themselves in your hair. She's pulling the dense curls, forcing you to lift your head from the pillow.

"I can't fucking hear you, y/n." With a growl she strikes your ass one more time. Tears are coming from your eyes at the pain, but when your cunt twitches and lets out a soft leak, you know you're in love with the feeling of Yuki being rough with you.

"Yuki! You fuck me so goooood!" You praise, crying out as you felt a soft and tense sensation begin to form in the walls of your cunt. You knew the feeling, but knew of only yourself being able to do it. No one was able to hit those parts of you and yet . . .

You squirt all over Plug!Yuki.

"Creamy as fuck and you squirt? Fuck, I'm never letting this pussy go."

Plug!Yuki has to pull herself out to slurp up your folds. You cry, enjoying how her tongue dances from your clit to your soaking hole. Her tongue collects your arousal, slurping noisily and the sounds — along with her tongue — have you rolling your eyes back. You're huffing, moaning as her tongue continues to skate along your soaked labia. When she felt satisfied she slips herself back in you with no warning.

Plug!Yuki continues drilling into you. Your wet pussy, Yuki's groans, and your pathetic whines were the only sounds to fill the room. Yuki savored each and every moan that fell from your lips. Her ego swelled as her pussy drooled. Her cockiness resonating in her brutal strokes and a grin on her face, knowing Suguru — or any other man — couldn’t make you feel the way she was right now.

"You're so good for me, pretty girl." She hears your moans increase an octave, pants becoming more frequent as you struggle to even swear at this point. You whimper, sobbing into her pillow as she never let up her relentless thrusts. Her stamina was that of a godly one and you were loving every second of it.

"Yuki — i'm so close—” You manage to warn and Yuki grins. She leans down, her skin touching yours and her skin sets ablaze. She lets out ragged breaths in your ear that send jolts down your spine, adding more to your sensory pleasure and she kisses your cheek.

"Want you to cum all over me." Plug!Yuki coaches, throwing her hips harder against your ass. The pink tip kisses deeply in your cervix, causing you to choke out. Your body begins to tremble as you felt that familiar tingle build in the walls of your cunt. You nod, screwing your eyes shut as her strokes became more animalistic.

"I'm gonna cum—Yuki!" You scream her name when she sneaks a finger on your clit. She rubs fast, causing you to choke and clamp down on her as you prepare yourself to tumble into bliss. The white hot sensational building in your clit and she presses harder and rubs even faster. She lifts her lips to your ears before speaking, her gentle words sending you over the edge.

"I gotchu, pretty girl go ahead and cum for me."

Plug!Yuki gives you the best orgasm of your life.

Plug!Yuki peppers kisses along your spine as you came down from your orgasm high. Your thighs are shaking from the intensity of it all, goosebumps all over your body and Yuki trails affectionate and gentle caresses up and down your body to coax you through your orgasm. She finishes up her trail of kisses and you eventually make it back to Earth. You roll onto your back to look at the caring woman above you. Concern is over her eyes, but all that drifts away when you shoot her a sensual grin.

"What?" Plug!Yuki would say and you only bring a hand back to her thigh.

"You think this is over? Park that pretty pussy on my face I been dying for a taste." You say obscenely.

You don't need to tell Plug!Yuki twice and she mounts your face.

Plug!Yuki's moans were just as beautiful as herself.

Your tongue savors every last drop, her cunt was completely soaked between going down on you then her dicking you down. A buffet awaited you and you were moaning as you licked up every last drop. Yuki moans, hissing and even whimpering your name when you suckled on her clit. Her cream is all over your nose but you didn't care with the way she moaned your name.

"Fuck, y/n." Plug!Yuki sighs out, her hips starting to move back and forth on your tongue. You immediately caught on and stuck it out, letting her ride it and she moans louder. Yuki starts to ruts faster and her tits bounce, the scene making you horny yet again. You try to ignore that tingling that starts to awaken in your belly once more.

"Taste so good, baby." You praise her and she sighs, eyebrows scrunching as another moan fell from her mouth. You move your tongue back to focus on her clit, taking the swollen nub and sneaking a hand between her soaked folds. She lets a sensual croon when you shove two fingers inside her hungry cunt. The sound only makes you place a third finger in. She gasps, her cunt beating around your fingers as you stretch her with your digits.

"Tongue feels so good." Plug!Yuki praises you and you moan, curving your fingers into Yuki harder. More arousal seeps out of her, oozing onto your chin and chest.

"Oh yeah? What about my fingers?" You tease Plug!Yuki. A smile comes onto her face but she answers.

"Fucking fantastic, mama." Plug!Yuki tells you. You giggle, kitten licking her clit with the tip of your tongue causing her to shudder above you.

"Good." You tell her before kissing on her clit and going back to enjoying your meal. You curve your fingers faster, earning louder moans from Yuki above you as you continue suckling on her clit.

"Y/n, fuck—i might—” You find the strength to fuck her even faster, feeling the way Yuki's cunt sucks around you greedily. You suck harder on her clit and flicker your tongue faster. Yuki shrieks, letting out an erotic scream as a soft geyser pours out of her folds. Your mouth catches it, and what it doesn't spills along your chin and drips along your chest, soaking you completely. You're moaning at her squirting all over your face and you take your fingers out of her cunt. You place both hands on her hips, sliding yourself from under her before pushing Yuki down on her back.

Plug!Yuki watches as you take the very same strap she used earlier on you and secure it on yourself. You look down at the blonde woman who has her hair wild, legs spread, cunt glistening in the pink light. You smile as you realize you wouldn't have it any other way.

"My turn."

And Plug!Yuki knows she's in for a long ass night. . .

©𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐯 ╰┈┈➤ MASTERLIST!

[decadentfantasy]

Mk1 Kenshi or kung lao with a shy fem reader who has a crush on them? Sfw and/or nsfw is fine, oneshot or hc <3

𝑴𝑲1 𝑴𝑬𝑵 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑨 𝑺𝑯𝒀 𝑭𝑬𝑴! 𝑺/𝑶

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔: Kenshi Takahashi, Kung Lao

𝑻𝑾: a bit of smut

❥︎ 𝑲𝑬𝑵𝑺𝑯𝑰 𝑻𝑨𝑲𝑨𝑯𝑨𝑺𝑯𝑰

𝑺𝑭𝑾

❥︎ Kenshi tends to think of himself as quite skilled at analyzing people. The way you'd shy away from him, the way you'd flinch when he called you by name, your fidgeting eyes darting anywhere as long as it's away from his face. He mistakes your shyness for fear. He knows that, has an ex-Yakuza, his reputation can be quite disturbing to most but he thought his calm demeanor would have done something to ease your worries.

❥︎ Only after a bit he starts to pick up on the clues that had previously went unnoticed: your reddened cheeks, the stutter in your speech, the way your hands flex when he's near, yearning to hold him... and he has to admit he's flattered. He finds your shyness endearing and sweet, he might feel a little guilty about making you so nervous.

❥︎ It takes a while for him to be able to meet you alone, but when he manages he makes sure you're the least uncomfortable possible, quite difficult since you're confessing to him. When your words finally tumble out of your mouth, jumbled and thick in your throat, Kenshi smiles softly and embraces you, strong arms enveloping around you as the scent of lychee and white musk envelops you.

"That was really sweet," he says against your ear, stroking your hair in slow, tender motions. "I'm glad you told me."

❥︎ Even when you start your relationship, Kenshi always makes sure you're okay with him initiating physical contact: he's not a particularly touchy man, but he enjoys basking in your warmth, he finds it comforting. Every hug, every held hand, every feathery kiss is preceded by a softly spoken "Is this okay?", almost too cautious, afraid of hurting you with his affection.

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾

❥︎ Kenshi is passionate by nature, he pours his heart into his every act of love towards you and that includes sex as well. To someone as shy as you it might feel almost overwhelming, how his hands dig in your hips in a firm hold and his sweaty skin glides onto yours as he thrusts into you. His eyes are so full of love, of adoration, as he gazes upon your naked form sprawled on the mattress, hypnotized by the way your breath hitches and your voice twists into whimpers of his name.

❥︎ If he notices you're getting overwhelmed he slows the pace, his hips rocking against yours like gentle waves upon the shore, and starts littering your face in butterfly kisses, sweeping your hair away from your forehead he holds your hand in his own, his thumb stroking its back.

"It's alright, hanii. You're doing perfectly..." he assures you softly, his breath uneven as his hand drifts down to caress your thigh soothingly. "I love you, I love you so much... You're so beautiful."

❥︎ He's a little clumsy when it comes to aftercare, but he puts his best effort in it. He prefers to cuddle for a while before going to get cleaned up, wanting to bask in the afterglow of your love making. He takes his time to shower you with compliments, to check if he upset you by doing anything wrong and if you need anything. He'll help you get dressed afterwards, regardless if you're able to do it on your own. His main love language is acts of service, let him show you once more how much he cares.

❥︎ 𝑲𝑼𝑵𝑮 𝑳𝑨𝑶

𝑺𝑭𝑾

❥︎ Contrarily to Kenshi, Kung Lao immediately notices how smitten you are with him. It's so obvious, you're always around him, glancing up at him whenever you think he's not looking, torturing the hem of your shirt when you meet his gaze or speak to him. And I'm sorry to tell you that, if Kenshi showed you kindness, you won't find any mercy withing Kung Lao.

❥︎ He's a relentless tease, the playful kind of course but still a tease. He'll pull you into his lap without a warning, bear-hug you from behind when you least expect it, purposefully lean closer to you with the excuse that he can't hear you. All of that just to hear that weak, embarrassed yelp leave your lips, your eyes wide and your cheeks tinted in a rosy hue. It's the greatest gratification he can get from you.

❥︎ He basically corners you and doesn't give up until you finally cave, almost yelling in his face in frustration. You cover your face, feeling your cheeks heat up and your head spin. You think he's going to laugh but he doesn't, and when you look up there's the goofiest grin on his face.

"I knew it." he chuckles, hugging you so tightly he pushes the breath out of your lungs. "But it's so great to hear it from you!"

❥︎ Kung Lao loves PDA, it's a way for him to show you off to others, so expect him to always hold you in some way or the other when out and about. He most commonly has an arm wrapped around your waist, tracing figure eights on your hip. If it makes you uncomfortable he'll tone it down, but he'll never stop doing it completely.

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾

❥︎ If he can already be an insufferable tease in public, you can rest assured he's even worse in the bedroom. He makes you ride him purposefully because he knows how embarrassed you become, his hands driving you to bounce on him over and over again as you desperately try to hold in your moans and whines.

"Aaaw, look at you." he coos, the most smug smirk against your neck as he nibbles softly at your neck. "You're so cute... Feels good, huh?"

❥︎ When he sees you getting overwhelmed his attitude shifts immediately. He rolls over, laying you beneath him as he stops moving entirely, wanting to make sure you're actually okay with what you're doing. He plays with your hands, flattening his fingers against yours as he smiles tenderly, whispering soothing words of encouragement. It doesn't matter how terrible he can be, your pleasure and well-being will always come first to him.

❥︎ Aftercare with him can vary, depending on how much stamina he has left and how rough and fast-paced your session was. Most of the time, however, he runs a bath for the both of you to soak in and then cuddles up to you on the bed while eating snacks. He'll constantly be kissing the nape of your neck, nosing you like a pet looking for cuddles, while telling you how much he loves you over and over.

[skepticalkoi-catastrophe]

𝙏𝙧𝙮𝙣𝙖 𝙁𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙑𝙤𝙞𝙙

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x Reader

Genre: Angst/Fluff, Hurt/ Comfort, Best Friends to Lovers, Exes to Best Friends, Hinted Exes to Lovers

Warnings: Mentions of physical harm to y/n (bruises).

Word count: 461

PART 1 HERE

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 「1:55am」 - "Seeing you again brought everything back."

Heavy gray obscures the sky. Raindrops racing down the windows at the same time you're caught staring at him in a catatonic stupor.

His outstretched hand drops sharply from your clothed injury. At the foot of his bed, he rests, massaging the back of his neck. There's a sour taste in your mouth awaiting his oncoming words. You might as well be back under your umbrella the night the music died.

"Don't." You exhale, pleadingly gazing out the window. Those raindrops may as well run down your cheeks, too.

Looking through his long lashes, refusal of acceptance burns bright in Jinwoo's cold glare. "People called me crazy for letting you get away. And they were right."

Your mirthless smile goes hand in hand with your emotional mourning at his statement. Why wait now to want you back?

"We were both so hurt that we didn't see how much the other one was hurting." You affirm, arms remaining at your sides.

Jinwoo stammers. "Yes, but I'm sorry for how it ended. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry it took me so long to say it."

You're taken aback, some of your tension releasing from your shoulders. The atmosphere that of a boa constrictor between you two. You kept up your end of the bargain when the metaphorical house of cards came crashing. Three months' time to the day when you and him couldn't take it anymore.

Apart from the ever so slight proximity you couldn't face him. There's no point mustering up the courage. You're not afraid. You're exhausted.

"We fought, and you thought that meant we shouldn’t be together. Couples fight. Fighting is healthy."

He returns your gaze through the windows' reflection, dispatching a disquieting jolt through your limbs.

What's worst, the fact that your dating anniversary is two weeks from today or that you're back in his room, in his clothes, under his care just as you were prior?

Deafening thunder booms as the sound waves from the lightning reach your ears.

You bite back a lie. To tell the truth would allow for your emotions to run away with your mouth. "It seemed like the right thing at the time. We weren't ready for it."

Jinwoo tracks your every step as you draw nearer. The mattress dips beside him during which you lay down in fetal position.

He continues his visual exploration, searching for a sign in your soft features. A sign of hope. A new beginning.

"Do you think we are now?" He asks earnestly.

Hell could not fathom your need to let go contrarily to your want for the unrealistic. Jinwoo mimics your actions, laying back onto the bed. With glossy eyes, you shift closer and place your hand on his chest. His steady heartbeat beneath your palm.

"I don't want this with anybody else."

Please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[chiikasevennn]

I feel love and insanity for this version of Venion.

Beacrox grabbed your collar. He looked furious. If you remember things correctly, he just heard about the dragon's story a while ago so you understand his feelings.

"He told you to answer. Why did you buy something like that after 3 years?" "I was getting tired of looking at the hard metal... There was nothing in that cave but stone and metal..." Your tears are still flowing. It looks like they were crying a whole year's worth. Despite that, you were not shaking, nor were your eyes looked sad.

Contrarily, you looked like those creepy dolls with soulless eyes that cried in horror films.

Close up

Fanwork/fanart made by me, Chika. An illustration I made based on @weirdsht's Cliché story. It's a story where the original Venion Stan went poof and got replaced by you/reader. I cried for hours. Kudos to that anon, too. I will bark at you for suggesting that scenario if I ever see you. Please support the author, they're like, amazing. They write stories if you're interested :)

The lighting is so funny

Other drawing(s) of mine you can see if you'd like :∆

Cale Henituse — "Even though Cale Henituse was called a lot of distasteful names, no one would dare to ever call him ugly."

God of Life — "Well~ You are correct. I am not gentle nor am I kind. I am the God of Life. And life is never kind."

[thestrangeblob]

elain's flowers on the drawer

roses, begonias, and irises. I always see art of this drawer but most only ever have roses, fair cause they're the most commonly known, but what about the other two?

Begonias

one of the most common things said about elain is that she needs sunlight.. but contrarily, one of the flowers feyre drew for elain is a flower known to prefer shade! now, I don't live inside sjm's head, maybe it's just a flower she personally likes but, c'mon such a specific flower has to serve some sort of purpose?

Irises

this bit was especially fascinating cause we know that elain is a seer and has been speculated to be able to see through the realms like mystics. and hope, god the only thing we've seen elain hope for with all her heart was for her love to trump the mating bond... are we going to see that coming true in her book?

lastly, Roses

as always roses are the beacon of all things love in literature. I truly think elain's book is going to be fighting for her love to supersede the mate bond. the fact that her crush is associated with a place called rosehall is just a fun add on.

I see the argument that elain's drawer painting does not indicate an elriel ending, but hear me out! we have:

feyre - night sky and stars - highland of night court

nesta - angry bright red flames - lord of bloodshed with red siphons

elain - flowers of love and hope that prefer shade - spymaster who yearns for love in the shadows

maybe I'm reaching, maybe I'm not but I think the drawer was a beautiful set up for the future books. everything about the three sisters and the bat boys are so perfectly tied together and balanced and poetic. god I just love analyzing these little details in the books!

[acutemushroom]

I think I figured out why Laddie intrigued me so much despite having so little characterization apart from "the kid of the group".

It's because he's actually such a good mix of the whole cast and middle ground between the two factions(the Lost Boys and the Emerson & co.) of the movie. I'll explain myself:

Like Star and Micheal, he too is a fledgling vampire. Yet, he, seemingly, doesn't seem to resent this condition. Like Star, he starts the movie as a Lost Boy but, contrarily to her, doesn't seem to fear/be uncomfortable around the boys. Heck, is only real dialogues, albeit background ones, is him excitedly telling Marko about a teddy bear he saw. Marko being the most violent of the guys. Laddie wouldn't do that if he was scared of him. Yet, when Micheal was drinking Max's blood, he fled to Star's side instead of cheering like the others. Was it bringing bad memories, was it just the general vibe he didn't like ? Who knows ! But still... that is the only moment where Laddie is visibly scared by the boys.

And I can perfectly see an ending where the Lost Boys win and Laddie willingly goes back with them. It's not like he purposefully betrayed them after all.

His relation with Dwayne and Paul is not too unlike to the one between Micheal and Sam. Different because of the ages, but both are relationship (a) big brother(s) and their little brother.

What I have a hard time saying with all this is that Laddie is a very interesting character as, despite being a blank state, he shows plenty of parallels with others. Plus, he is one of the only characters to not really have a side as he'll really just follow the flow.

I don't know, there is something very interesting about it all

[izvmimi]

cw: spoilers for the end of dr. stone! smut near the end. minors dni. angst at the beginning. reader implied to not be from japan.

Your subtle gift of premonition truly never fails you, and you realize so once more when you're crowded around Senku's laboratory with the remainder of Yuzuriha and Taiju's closest wedding guests and staring up at the monstrous contraption Senku is designating as a time machine.

While the remainder of the party is in curious astonishment, the uneasy feeling that's been sitting heavily in your chest since the morning of the wedding only solidifies further. 

Now you know why you woke up sick to your stomach on what should be a happy day.

Tsukasa stands close to you, pensive as always, thinking before he adds his own commentary, ever so careful with his words. There's a small smile on his face, and you read that as awe and amusement at Senku's relentless pursuit of scientific advancement; something he had once tried to suppress, he's come to appreciate, and while you'd normally be pleased with how far he's come in that respect, in this very moment it feels like a betrayal. 

A time machine would change everything.

Truly everything, and the selfish part of you scorns it. 

Tsukasa finds your hand besides him, still mulling over the details as Senku explains his roadmap to the group, and squeezes it gently without looking. Your corsage of pink flowers brushes against the sleeve of his suit, and you watch a few petals fall. Suddenly you are far too overwhelmed, and would much rather run of the room, but when you see hope warm Tsukasa's brown eyes, you hold in your unease as best you can. 

"Senku really is amazing, isn't he?" you say through a smile that should come easier than it does. Tsukasa hasn't turned to return your smile yet, still watching the machine, eyes wide. 

"He really is."

---

That evening, Tsukasa in his contrarily roundabout but very direct way of speaking, reaffirms his intention to marry you someday. In a small way, you might as well be married - you're inseparable, you live together with Mirai who calls you big sister and means it every single time, and he makes you feel his love every time he holds you in the dark, and presses deep into you, relishing in the sound of his name as it falls off his lips.

Something big if you want it. Something small will also suffice. Something that makes everything even more real, he says to you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. Pillow talk should make you feel warm, warm as the liquid seeping between your legs. Warm as his arms. Warm as the sensation of his tongue in your mouth, on your skin. 

"Tsukasa," you finally speak up in the dark.

He pulls you closer, and you pause before the words bubble up inside you and force their way out -

"I don't want to lose you."

A lamp flickers on and Tsukasa takes in your tear-stained face with as much alarm allotted for someone so naturally stoic. His palm takes your cheek and rubs it gently, the other arm pulling you in closer to press against him. Your face buries into his chest, and there you let yourself really cry.

He lets you tremble in his embrace for a few more moments, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head. He has no idea what you're talking about, because how can he when you've remained in your head all day?

Once your sniffles have slowed, he pulls back so that he can look at you in the eyes again, making sure you're still within an arm's reach.

"How can you lose me when I've never left?" he asks. 

You swallow, and then decide if you must sound awful, now is the time.

"Without de-petrification, there's no way we would have met."

Tsukasa tenses for a moment, which makes your heart sink, but then he pulls you closer, then on top of him. Sliding upwards so that his back is propped up by the headboard, he strokes your forehead. He mulls the thought over for a moment, and you look up into his beautiful face, your heart pounding in anticipation. 

"I'd find you," he says, confidently, and you're stunned practically silent. Simple as that.

You blink for a moment, surprised by his answer, then find your face growing hot.

"What do you mean, 'you'd find me'? We lived on the opposite sides of the world? You would have been famous and I just... some girl with some normal job, and-"

He kisses you again to interrupt you, then presses his forehead to yours.

"Trust me. I'd find you."

You can feel your breath halt and he smiles.

"You don't believe me, do you?" he says. His gaze is soft, and he grins wider, confident, flipping you over so that he's over top of you. You can feel your face growing hot again but for a different reason now. Sucking in a breath, you wrinkle your nose.

"Were you gonna pluck me from my grad school classroom?" you ask him.

"If I must," he says. He kisses your neck, then parts your legs to wrap them around his waist. Your eyelashes flutter.

"Unrealistic," you reply. 

"I'd find you," he says again. His fingers intertwine with yours as he rubs against your center. You sigh, but he's taken all of the worry out of you and replaced it with playful jest. He's so good at this, the way he validates your fears, but doesn't allow you to feel afraid because he lacks that fear, and is always strong enough, good enough, brave enough to protect you. Even from yourself.

"Would you send me special signals through MMA's greatest knockouts montages on Youtube?"

This time he actually laughs, falling back on his heels.

"Yes," he answers. "Whatever it takes."

He's hard again, and the heavy thickness slaps on your pubic bone, and you tense, your heartbeat quickening, your mouth drying in want. He runs his hand through his hair to free the strands sticking to his face before he descends on you again, the other hand gripping the base of his cock to line up with your entrance.

He blows air from his nose, then pulls one of your legs over his shoulder. His teeth flash at you - he is your perfect, sweet, confident love of your life, and all of your worries cease.

"You should be less worried about universes where we don't meet and more concerned about the fact that you can't escape me in any timeline."

He fills you up, your back arching as his hands grip around your waist.

"You're always mine to love."

[bruisedboys]

-🍓 James potter and “I like everything about you.”

Also, congrats on 2k! Love you and your blog 🥰

summary: james comforts a shy!you when you’re worried about meeting his friends

shy!fem!reader 0.9k words

James likes you. Loves you, even. You’re perfect, even though you’re shy and quiet and have so much self doubt it makes his chest ache. He loves you for your heart. Your quietly huge heart.

You’re squeezing the life out of James’s hand. He really can’t find it in himself to ask you to loosen your grip a little.

“Y/N,” he says gently. At his voice your head snaps around from where you’d been gazing at the drink bar. You stare at him like a deer in headlights. “Are you alright?”

You gulp. You don’t look alright. You look scared shitless.

“I’m fine,” you say, sounding far from it.

James gives you a look that says we both know that’s not true. He slides his free hand over the table and offers it to you, palm up on the scratched wood surface. You take it, shy and timid, but the moment your hands are locked in you’re squeezing the hell out of that one, too.

James grimaces. “Sweetheart,” he says, his tone drenched in pity. “You look petrified. What’s the matter?”

He knows exactly what’s the matter but he wants you to say it. You do, though you’re very shy about it.

“I’m just a bit nervous,” you say. ‘A bit’ doesn’t cut it. You’re so nervous you actually look queasy. “About— about meeting your friends.”

Without meaning to, James makes a pitying sound from the back of his throat. You’ve hidden your face, ducking your head down so you don’t have to look at him. You’re embarrassed about your confession. Contrarily, James is proud. Proud that you’re able to tell him what’s wrong so easily. You’ve come a long way from when you first met.

You surprise James when you speak again. He was sure he’d have to coax more of an explanation out of you.

“It’s scary,” you admit in a small voice, staring at your lap. “I don’t know if they’ll— um, well … I just don’t want them to not like me.”

You cringe at yourself and pull your hands away from James’s, wringing them in your lap instead. James sighs, heavy and sad and loving all at once. When you don’t show any signs of opening up further, James takes matters into his own hands.

He stands from his spot in the booth, rounds the table and slides in next to you, so quick you don’t have time to protest. His thigh presses into yours. His closeness flusters you and you duck your head, staring at his knees.

“Baby.” James hooks a finger under your chin and pushes gently until you’re looking at him, his thumb against your jaw to keep you in place. “You have nothing to worry about, I swear.”

“But—“

“But what?” James asks quietly, as kind as he can when his chest hurts so much. “Is it that you’re quiet?”

You nod. You’re staring at James like he’s your saving grace. He’s trying his best.

“That doesn’t matter, honey,” he says earnestly. “Really, it doesn’t. I like you, don’t I?” You open your mouth to answer but James doesn’t let you. “I do like you. A lot. A lot a lot. I like that you’re quiet.” That you only ever open up with him, that he gets to see both sides of you, shy you and you you. “I like everything about you, angel.”

You hide your face in your hands like he’s said something awfully cheesy, which he supposes he has.

“I’m serious!” He keeps going, because he can sense you’re smiling into your hands and he wants you to keep smiling. “If you want me to list everything I like about you, I’ll—“

“No!” You gasp, emerging from your hiding place to slap your hand to James’s mouth. “Don’t, James.”

James grins against your palm and then kisses it for good measure. You flush and seem to realise how close you’ve become, releasing his mouth and returning your hands to your lap. James takes one in both of his, because he can.

“They’re quite nice, actually. Sirius and Remus,” he says quietly. Heaven forbid anyone ever hear him say that. Anyone but you, of course.

You look up at him with too much hope in your eyes. “Yeah?”

James squeezes your hands. “Yeah. Loud and mildly annoying, but … nice. They won’t care that you’re quiet.”

Really, they won’t. Sirius is loud enough for the four of you and Remus is, well, Remus. He’s only loud when he wants to be. James knows he’ll tone it down for your sake.

“Don’t tell them I said that about them,” James adds, faux serious. He knows you wouldn’t ever but wants to make you laugh.

It works. You giggle and the smile you’re giving James is enough to knock the breath out of his chest. He grins like a madman as he releases your hands to slide an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his hold.

“And I’ll be here the entire time,” he reassures, giving you a gentle shake. “You’ll be okay. Okay?”

James feels your entire being melt into his side, your thigh pushing into his, your shoulder crushing into his armpit, your head lolling against his shoulder. In what James thinks is a stroke of bravery, you slide your hand over his thigh, slow and sweet and enough to make James lightheaded. He doesn’t think he could ever love anything more than you, his perfect shy girl.

James can hear the soft smile in your voice when you answer.

“Okay.”

-

“Okay.”