#Adorable short haircuts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pseudowho · 7 months ago

Text

Bedlocked

On a University city trip, someone's got to share a hotel room with Nanami Kento, the class's misunderstood loner...and it's going to be you.

Warnings: College AU! Nanami Kento x Reader, double loss of virginity, "just one bed", heavy make-out, PIV creampie, dry humping, fingering, handjob, both reader and Nanami aged 19

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Nanami Kento wore the awkward bearing of a young man who was surprised by the man he was growing to be. Being uniquely in possession of those excellent traits which were overlooked by girls, but adored by women, he had outgrown himself, from personality to hair, and was unsure how to wear it. Not yet having grown the confidence to lean into his character, and own it, he had been written off by the girls in your class as sullen, boring, miserable-- a downer.

All the girls, that is, except for you. And this was how you found yourself to be sharing a hotel room with Kento, on your thesis research trip to Kyoto.

"--made a mistake with the bookings, we're several rooms short--"

'--well we can share a bed, that's fine, but I'm not sharing with him--"

"--I dunno...I don't think he'd try anything, I just...want to have fun, that's all, and he's a bit..."

You scoffed, pinching the bridge of your nose as the other young women spoke amongst themselves. Kento had not arrived, and yet, was the talk of the group. As the only young man in the class, he had maintained a respectful, professional distance from the young women in it. It had earned him what you thought was a rather undeserved reputation.

Where the others saw uptight, you saw diligence. Where they saw boring, you saw reserved. Where others saw sarcastic, you saw hilarious. Where they saw grumpy, you saw rage against the machine.

In truth, you had long-since harboured an obsession with Kento. His hushed intensity was magnetic, and carried a mass you longed to draw you in. While others saw you as opposites, you saw yourself and Kento as each others' perfect foil. Matching puzzle pieces. Each others' missing ingredient.

And, god, you ached for him, alone at night with your hand drifting downwards. And you would not let him be treated like a leper.

"For goodness' sake, I'll share with Kento." You piped up, seeing the other girls all look round at you. Their eyes drifted, widening in surprise at something behind you, and you did not hear the hotel lobby door swing open and closed outside of your view. "In fact, I'd be delighted to share with him. I'm sure he'll be just as funny and respectful as he always is."

"You think I'm funny."

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the question framed as a statement, and spun round to face Kento...but not as you knew him. You stuttered.

"Oh, wow, Kento...your hair..."

Gone was the sloppy, loping fringe. Instead, Kento's honey-blond hair was neatly parted, undercut, framing his face. All of a sudden, he was so...handsome. Kento glowered down at you, impassive and unreadable. He gave one baleful hum at your assessment of him.

"I assume something happened with the room bookings, then. For you to wind up stuck with me." Before you could answer, Kento pulled his phone out of his pocket, turning back to the doorway with one enormous hand grasping his suitcase handle. "You shouldn't have to make a decision to your detriment. It's not your fault. I'll find somewhere else to sta--"

Kento was interrupted, by your hand clasping over his on his suitcase handle. A grunt of surprise left his lips, at the feel of your dainty hand on his. He looked down at them, his expression always somewhere between anger and irritation. You knew better.

"Stay with me. We...get along well. We always have." Kento scowled, his eyes flickering behind you to the other girls, who, while surprised by how a simple haircut could alter Kento so, were sticking to their guns.

"I don't need your pity." Kento sniped, his voice low and earthy, "I'm perfectly happy to le--"

"And I'm perfectly happy to share. Stop being so headstrong and listen to me."

Kento bristled, looking torn between argument and agreement. As the others collected their keys, filing off to their respective rooms, you awaited his decision. With a huff, Kento fetched your room key, and headed off down the corridor. You fizzed with excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him, but suppressed it, following him with an air of assumed solemnity.

The airs and graces were soon dropped, when the door to your room swung shut behind you and Kento, and you found it to have--

"...just one bed. Shit." Kento's face twisted in discomfort, his Adams apple bobbing deliciously as he swallowed. His eyes trailed down to you, and caught your blush as if it were contagious. He turned to grasp the door handle again, stuttering, so unlike himself.

"Couldn't possibly-- absolutely not appropriate-- my mistake entirely-- find somewhere else--"

"Will you? Find somewhere else, I mean?" Kento faltered, his grip on the door handle loosening. He looked at you with something akin to dread. "On cherry blossom week? In historic Kyoto?" By the time you were finished talking, Kento had deflated like a sad balloon animal.

Night had long since fallen. You heard the laughter, baths and showers running, from the girls in the adjacent rooms. Your confidence was a total mask, as you opened your suitcase, rummaging inside for pyjamas. Your heart pounded in your chest, made all the worse by Kento's silent, tortured appraisal of you. You realised, with a jolt, that you had brought nothing but an oversized t-shirt and underwear to wear to bed.

Beneath his eyes, you were transparent. He felt the tension roll off you in waves. Kento cleared his throat, his ears red, a youthful flush across his nose.

"I'll-- I'll go shower." He offered, considering trying to drown himself. He heard you hum, speaking absentmindedly.

"Go on. Smelly boy." You had barely registered what you said, hearing something like a laugh from Kento as he swung the bathroom door closed behind him. You threw yourself face down on the bed, muffling your cries of anguish into a pillow. Kento leaned against the shower wall as water tumbled down his back, trying not to think with his cock, and failing miserably, cursing his body for its feral stupidity.

You remained face down on the bed. Trying to think unsexy thoughts was murder. You had always wondered how Kento looked, long and tight beneath old band t-shirts. You'd had the briefest glimpse of his abs and happy trail once, when he reached above you to switch the projector on in class. How you had restrained yourself from leaning in and licking the soft skin of his navel was beyond you. The thought of the noise he would have made, alone, had kept you going for weeks. The way you caught him looking at you in class the next day, took you the rest of the way.

"Shower's free." You sat bolt upright, your brain short-circuiting to see Kento stood at the bathroom door in nothing but pyjama trousers, steam billowing out across broad shoulders and swept back hair. You forced your mask back into place.

"Thought you'd died in there." You offered, not as casual as you sounded. You fumbled your shower bag and pyjamas out of your bag, and made your way to the bathroom. You and Kento danced awkwardly, trying to skirt round each other. With a grunt of irritation, Kento grasped your upper arms, moving you effortlessly around him into the bathroom. His touch was scalding. You wouldn't possibly make it through the weekend.

By the time you headed out of the shower, tugging at your t-shirt to make it cover more of your thighs, you blushed to your toes to see Kento sat up in bed, bare chested and reading. He read the same sentence over, and over, and over, trying with broken determination not to track his eyes up your legs, and imagine how you tasted between them. Feeling you hurriedly slip into bed beside him made his cock jump, and he reached out with a fumbling hand, switching off the light without warning.

Only the faint bathroom light illuminated the room. You both lay, backs to each other, on opposite sides of the bed. The silence grew oppressively heavy. You felt lightheaded, barely breathing, hyperaware of every noise and movement your bodies made. You were paralysed by thoughts of his honey-rich voice, his lightly freckled shoulders itching to be touched, how it would feel to be trapped beneath him while he fell apart above you.

"I'm sorry." You blinked, hearing Kento's apologetic rumble.

"...what are you sorry for?"

"This...this situation. I know I'm no fun to be around. And I've made my peace with that. But you--"

"You are fun. Very fun. I'm...not going to punish you for being an introvert."

Kento was quiet on his side of the bed, but no more relaxed. You had gathered the guts to reach one hand across the sheets to him, before he threw the covers aside, and moved to sit up.

"You need your own space. I'll sleep on the sofa." The 'sofa' sat at the end of the bed, barely more than a loveseat, and you snatched a hand out, grabbing Kento round the bicep. You almost shivered at the hard cords of muscle there, thicker than your hand by far, barely grasping on as Kento tensed.

"No. You're taller than me. I'll sleep on the sofa--"

"--absolutely not--"

"--stop being such a fucking gentleman and let me--"

"--I'm not a gentleman, it's just basic manners--"

"--listen, I feel fine, just come and share--"

"--offer some mad girl a bed and suddenly you're a gentleman--"

"Kento, please just come to bed with me."

Kento's brain stuttered, now. He rolled to face you, his whole body on fire, trying to sound calm. He was an open book, to you. You felt every nerve ending of your skin put to the flame.

"...come to bed...with you?" You moved to roll away and cover your face with your hands, indescribably mortified. Kento couldn't allow it-- not when he'd daydreamed about this for so long. He grasped your hands, rolling you back over to face him. He looked awkward, not used to his own strength, as you flipped back over with a squeak, and a weak apology from Kento. You had never noticed the beautiful whiskey depths of his eyes, before.

You were lost for words. The tables had turned so suddenly, you had no idea on which side you sat. Kento scoffed, a faint blush on his high cheekbones, scowling into a corner of the room. The silence thickened again. Kento huffed a laugh.

"Go to sleep. I'll...I'll just play some games for a while." He did not want to. He wanted to flip you over again, to hear that squeak again, wondering if you'd squeak or moan when he pressed his weeping length into your--

"Oh...what games did you bring?" Your eyes lit up, sparkling, sitting up in bed with a bounce. Kento melted. He wanted to put you in his pocket. He could manage the urges, but the affection overwhelmed him and he stuttered, fumbling for words.

"Because..." Kento waited on bated breath, your lips plush and parted, crawling just-so towards him on the bed, seeing how your breasts shifted between your arms beneath that fucking t-shirt and maybe she would want this too fuck we wouldn't come out all weekend once we've tasted each other fuck if she were my girlfriend she'd be my whole world wouldn't ask for anything else ever again--

"...because I'm desperate for a Gengar actually but I haven't got anyone to trade my Haunter with and--"

"Oh. I need a Golem."

"Oh."

"Nice."

You both rummaged in your bags, grabbing your GameBoys, and you swore, trying to find the cable to connect them. Kento raised his eyebrows, scooting himself back beside you in bed, and crossing his long legs.

"Really? You brought one? Who did you think was gonna trade with you, one of them out there--"

"I'll be honest, I was relying on you, Kento, like I always do." Kento's ears reddened. He moved to sweep back the fringe he no longer had. Instead, his long fingers swept back through his neat parting, mussing commas of blond over his forehead, in a way that made you want to do the same until his hair was a mess and he was groaning.

You sat shoulder to shoulder, comparing Pokémon teams. Kento favoured Steel and Fighting types in a balanced, well-prepared team with no weak links. You favoured Ghost types and anything cute, in a weird mismatched set-up that surprised your enemies. With your short cable connecting your GameBoys, you sat thigh to thigh. You hadn't noticed your toes scrunching against Kento's, foot, stroking your skin against his. You felt him shiver and tense.

"What-- what are you doing?" Kento asked, his voice catching in his throat. His chest felt tight. His whole being zeroed in on where your skin stroked his. You caught yourself, and curled your toes away, to Kento's disappointment. "It-- it's okay...you don't have to stop." Your games were ignored now, defunct in distracted hands.

You swallowed, the air thick with tension around you. He was so close, you could smell the residue of his cologne, and the natural masculine smell of him, earthy beneath freshly washed skin. The side of your breast, bare beneath your t-shirt, rested against his bicep. You felt his bicep clench, grazing your nipple. He felt the pebbled snag of your nipple against his arm. He knew he'd combust if he didn't feel your skin on his soon; knew his fragile resolve was breaking.

Your foot cautiously stretched back down, the sensitive skin of your toes stroking against the top of Kento's foot. You felt him shiver again, putting his GameBoy down with a grunt, his eyebrows drawn together with am arm over his eyes.

"Do you...like it when I touch you?"

Kento grumbled under his breath, his mouth twisted in faint derision. "Don't be cruel." You blushed, reaching out for his hand. Kento tangled his fingers in yours, pressing the back of your hand to his twitching thigh, and trailing featherlight fingertips over your palm and inner wrist, an erogenous zone you never knew you had until he elicited a shudder from you.

"See." Kento whispered, lightly stroking the spot on your inner arm that connected curiously to your clit and nipples, a fine gold thread of liquid arousal. "You like it, too. So if you don't mean anything by this, just stop. Don't...don't play games with me." He took his fingers away, and you almost whimpered, chasing his touch, begging.

"No, Kento, wait-- please...don't stop."

Kento short-circuited. He had never been so close to the fabled pleasure of anothers' body. Pornography had little impact for one without the flesh-memory of erotic touch. Kento's cock was thick, now, throbbing. You dropped your head to his shoulder, sighing with bliss as his trembling fingers resumed their butterfly kisses to your wrist. The growing tent in his pyjamas, and the way he spread his thighs aside to accommodate his erection, made your mouth water.

Kento shifted, his body moving on instinct, until he was tentatively leaning over you. He wanted to watch your face as he stroked your wrist, examining its fine little tendons and veins, and examining how you arched, your mouth parted, your t-shirt rucking up until he could see the warm squidge of your belly above your underwear. His voice was husky, thoughtful.

"You'd...you'd stop me, right? If you didn't want this?"

"Yeah, I...yeah. But I-- I don't want you to. I want m--"

Kenti bowed his head to drink the unfinished words off your lips, knowing you wanted more just as much as he did. He grunted against the taste of you, his lips shuddering and uncertain, only hoping his sincerity came through. Kissing him back hard, your lips and tongues clashed, both instinctual, hungry, tasting. You and Kento spurred each other on, your mutual desperation rising exponentially with each nip of the lips, each tongue thrust into each others' mouth, each moan snatched and devoured between kisses.

Your hands sunk into each others' hair, ruffling, teasing, pulling, and you whimpered into Kento's mouth at the massage of his fingertips over your scalp. You were drunk. You had to be drunk, so high off the spontaneity of a moment you thought would be planned to a T.

Kento's mouth wandered, pressing and sucking sharp little lovebites into you on his way down your neck. You had ended up tangled around him, beneath him, the tip of his cock almost escaping beneath his waistband. Riding on buckish young urgency, Kento's broad hand had risen to grope your breast, possessive, trembling against the urge to squeeze you too hard. When you whimpered, arching into his touch, his mind flew back to him, shocked and ashamed by his stunning lack of self-control.

"Sorry," Kento gasped, his mouth and hand flying off you as if burnt, "fuck, sorry, 'msosorry--"

He broke off at the sight of you. Strewn, your hair scrunched against the pillow, with love-swollen lips and roses blooming on your neck, you were serene; for him. Thrown like petals onto the sheets, all for him and his mouth and his hands. Kento felt the fog descend again, dampening his judgement, for the instinctual urge to fuck.

"Have you...have you ever..." You felt Kento's meaning. His voice was rough, deep as the valley, and hewn with stone. You shook your head, still supple and dopey from his attentions. Kento's held breath released in one husky groan. He swallowed, shaking his head down at you.

"No, I...me neither. Always wondered, always--" Always what? Always daydreamed about it almost constantly? Always chastised himself for being such a fucking animal? But, the look in your eyes as you drank him in. Kento and you met on that clouded bridge, in the middle. Your pussy ached with promise.

Kento's hand came to settle slowly on your breast again, delighted by the way you pressed into him. His fingers grazed down over your nipple, reaching the hem of your shirt, brushing upwards.

"I can...can I? Please?"

"Please. Please, yes please, god."

"Fuck...I can't...cant believe it-- finally--" Kento didn't seem to realise he was moaning his inner thoughts aloud, rucking your t-shirt up like unwrapping a gift. As your breast freed, Kento shuddered again, slanted brown eyes scrutinising your body with analytical intent, committing you to memory.

His hand ghosted over your tummy, tracing dimples and stretch marks on the way, before curling around your breast, giving the gentlest of squeezes. The noise that left his mouth was somewhere between a cough and a moan. Still possessed by a haze of need, his mouth dipped down, tongue flicking out over your nipple, before capturing it with his mouth as you arched again, keening. He pressed into your arch, one arm planted above your head, the opposite hand rolling your other breast between keen fingers.

He couldn't help but rock the straining underside of his cock against your barely-covered pussy. The material between you was so thin, you could feel the whole length of him, and the tapering shape of his bulbous tip as it snagged against your clit. Kento knew he'd cum like this, if he wasn't careful, and shivered at the idea of spilling his seed all over your belly. He brushed away his hurrying peak, so determined was he that you'd cum before him.

"--keep--keep doing that...Kentoooo--oooh, feels so good--"

A rush of competitive pride burned through him. He couldn't help but murmur against your spit-slick nipple, nuzzling it with his nose.

"Keep telling me...what feels good. Make sure I'm not selfish, 'cos I--I'll just take if you don't--"

Suddenly hyperaware of your own body and how you must look, dopey and blissful as you chased pleasure by rutting his length between your legs, you stopped, and Kento huffed.

"I can hear you--thinking you look stupid-- and you don't--" He scowled down at you, his voice hoarse and strained between heavy grunts of ecstasy. "Will you cum? Like...like that?" Kento nodded down towards where you had been rolling your pussy against him. You tried to pull an arm over your eyes, blushing, extraordinarily embarrassed. Kento tangled his fingers in yours, pressing them over your head.

"Hey-- hey-- listen, I'll...I'll let you see me cum...if you let me see you. Please." You swallowed, mouth watering at the thought of watching Kento break, such sincere fascination trickling down your spine.

"...okay." You answered, uncharacteristically meek. Kento huffed another laugh.

"Good girl." You blushed from hairline to toes, involuntarily bucking up against Kento with his words. He began to rut against you again, the friction good but not quite right, not as good as it could be. You threw caution to the wind.

"Hang-- hang on, I'll just..." You reached a hand down beneath your panties, parting your labia just enough for Kento's heavy length to snag harder against your clit.

Kento's eyes zeroed in on the creamy white discharge on your fingers as you pulled your hand out, and when he continued his motions, you fell supple and needy beneath him again, groaning with the pleasure of his bulbous tip and the ridge beneath it, catching your clit. Pleasure bloomed through you, so much closer to orgasm than you had thought.

"--don't stop--" You begged, arching up towards Kento until he fucked down harder with a broken growl, his own need to cum eclipsed by your pleasure. Drawing one nipple deeper into his mouth, and lubricating the other with his spit to roll it fluidly between his fingers, Kento learned fast, playing you like an instrument until your mouth gaped in a silent cry, your first orgasm received from another, roaring through you in waves.

Kento kept humping against you, not recognising that you had reached your peak. He faltered, hips stuttering and panting as you groaned, squirming and writhing, groping at him with desperate, fucked-out hands. Kento was obsessed, a spurt of pre-cum adding to the slick he'd already made between your legs. Utterly besotted, his slim eyes wide with blown pupils, he shakily raised one hand to stroke your hair, kissing your forehead through the bliss, shushing you with whispered praise.

"--so cute...look so pretty...thank you-- thank you--"

As you came down from your high, you heard him thanking you, and laughed, trying to cover your face as he batted your hands away, playful and smirking. Biting your lip, emboldened by post-nut confidence, you slid your hand down to grip Kento's clothed, pulsing cock. He stilled above you with a grunt, looking so angry again as that feral, desperate haze descended. You begged him, hushed and soft.

"Can I...feel it?" Kento's thoughts burst with single-minded relief. He nodded, breath catching in his chest, allowing you to roll him over onto the bed until you were lying on your side beside him. You stroked his clothed length, fascinated, watching every reaction with cruel innocence.

Unsure how to handle him, you faltered as your hand began to slip inside his pyjamas. Kento had one arm slung over his face, still scowling, wanting desperately to watch you play with his cock, but too self-conscious.

"Here, I'll--" Kento reached down, shucking his pyjamas down until his cock released. Kento seemed embarrassed by his size, distinctly bigger than average, and thick, his pink tip peeking out from beneath his foreskin. Mistaking the cause of your silence for disgust, Kento grimaced behind his forearm, apologising.

"--shit, 'msorry, I know I-I'm--"

"...wow." Your breathless little gasp, followed by your hand immediately circling round Kento's cock, sent his mind blank again, watching you with dumb adoration as you examined the weight of his cock in your hand. Your hand gripped him, stroking from ball to tip with an inexperienced squeeze that had Kento grunting, gasping and bucking beneath you. It didn't matter that you had clearly never handled an erection in your life; for Kento, who had never been stroked by a woman looking at his cock and face with hungry, adoring eyes, he was being rushed towards a toe-curling orgasm.

"--st--sta--stopstopstop, m'gonna cu--m'gonna cum--'m gonna--"

Your hand stopped immediately, and Kento snarled, before gasping, momentarily shocked by his visceral reaction to being teased just to the edge of completion. Your pupils dilated, obscenely aroused by the strange danger of a furiously needy man about to cum in your hand. You were lost in the tease, lowering your head and maintaining eye contact as you threatened your lips just over the tip of Kento's cock.

"...stop?"

Kento was glazed, eyebrows tilted, looking uncharacteristically concerned, darting between your mouth, and your eyes, and back again. His nose flared with hot little pants. A barely perceptible shake of the head. You smiled, laying the flat of your tongue against the tip of Kento's cock, and licking over the bulbous head with an incoordinate pump of his length.

Kento's moan rumbled from his chest outwards, muffled as he bit into his own arm, his mind blown by the wet little sucks of his cockhead that he'd imagined only in his wettest dreams. He hurtled with breakneck speed towards his peak, finishing with frantic bucks and begs.

"--oh my--fucking g-god--huuugh fuckfuckfuck sorry m'sorry--shit--"

Kento came with an uncontrollable roar of pleasure, both arms gripping the pillow beneath his head, biceps straining, balls clenching. You pulled free of his cock with a wet pop and a little cry of surprise, when the first spurt of cum salted your tongue.

You continued to stroke him, obsessed with the jerk of him in your hand, the way he groaned, low and long, with each stripe of thick, white seed up his belly. It was only after the twitches had ceased, his cock sluggish against his belly, that Kento began to gasp like a fish out of water and gripped his hand around yours.

"--sto--sta--stop...fuck...so...sogood sosogood..."

The words left your mouth before you even thought to stop them, a years old masturbatory kink suddenly within reach. "Can you cum like that inside me?"

Kento stared at you in mute shock, his neat new haircut mussed beyond repair. His post-cum brain struggled to process your request. You frantically babbled to reassure him.

"--I--I mean no condom--and hear me out hear me out-- I've got good protection-- and and I've never and you've never so we won't catch anything--"

Kento was above you, flipping you onto your back and suckling at your neck again within seconds. You heard his oddly grown-man chastisement into your neck, while his body moved in the total opposite direction.

"So fucking irresponsible-- just just "oooooh cum inside me Kento" just like that, fuck-- do you think I'm--I'm fucking stupid? Sh...shit...fucking yes please I can't believe I'm doing this--"

Kento's cock had barely softened, graced by the barely-there refractory period of youth. He was thick, heavy, and dragging down your belly. You were just as frantic as him, kicking off your underwear and watching Kento hyperfocus again; this time, on your bare sex, right before his eyes.

He knelt back, gripping himself in his fist as if holding himself back. Feeling his sharp eyes penetrate you, you moved to close your legs. Kento looked at you as if you were mad, batting your thighs aside with his knees as you covered your face, mortified.

"Beautiful." He berated, rubbing his fingers through the cum spattered on his belly, and sinking them down to glide cautiously between your labia. You gasped, squirming, and Kento watched his fingers coat with your slick with a gulp, feeling a fresh burst of blood engorge his cock until he ached.

He leaned to his bag, rummaging and cursing, before coming back up with a bottle of lube. You shot Kento a look and he shot you a look in return, berating you again with a voice stricter than fitting for his age; "I was expecting a room of my own."

"Oh yeah? How's that working out for you?"

"Very well actually-- stop laughing or I'll--"

"...you'll what? Make me?" You asked, coy. Kento let out a strangled little groan, and pinched the bridge of his nose as you laughed.

"...don't even...dont even know what you're asking...idiot--" Kento huffed as you drew a crooked smile out of him, your joyful muffled giggles a natural balm to his baseline rage. You stilled again, breathless as you watched him stroke his pulsing cock, your throat dry with voyeuristic anticipation. Kento panted, beyond embarrassment and hanging on by a thread.

Kento stroked some lube between your puffy folds, eyes heavy as you squirmed, prodding one finger softly at your entrance. You stilled beneath him, holding your breath. Kento tangled your fingers in his.

"Breathe." He hummed, and as you released a shaking breath, Kento began to ease one slick finger inside you. Your mouth dropped open, eyes closed beneath raising eyebrows, as Kento slid his long finger into you all the way to his knuckle. He hadn't realised he was holding his breath until he felt lightheaded.

"...you...you feel...fuck, incredible, so--so tight..." Kento whispered, his voice low and gravelly, that same primal urge to fuck immediately into you threatening to cloud his brain. By the way you gazed up at him, still and supple, you would probably let him too and he could just push right in and--

"...we'll take it slow," Kento reassured you, tight and tense, "...and I'll stop straight away if...if it hurts."

Your eyelids fluttered to feel Kento's thick tip prod at your entrance, sure he wouldn't fit until he pressed forwards, and you stretched like you'd never stretched before. You bit your lip against the faint sting, nodding urgently and gripping Kento's thighs as he looked at you in concern.

Kento was lost in the moment, his eyes zeroing in on where he gradually sheathed himself inside you. He'd never felt such exquisite pleasure, obsessed by how your plush walls moulded to the shape of him, sucking him in, slick and tight. You squeaked, biting into Kento's shoulder as he bore down on you, his cock almost sunk to the hilt. He stilled as he bottomed out, his fingertips bruising on your hip, trembling with jagged groans.

You felt so strangely placid, full, and wrapping your legs around the small of Kento's back to lock him inside you. The brief sting, the belly-deep ache, left you feeling like you had made a blooming transition from girl to woman in one deep thrust. Kento drank you in, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your lips and mumbling against them.

"...'m not gonna last long." Kento was possessed, pulling out a little before rutting into you again, delighted by your gasp, determined to break more noises out of you. His usual gentle nature was becoming quickly overrun by a firm, authoritative edge, not knowing yet how this would come to define him as a man.

Kento rocked into you, shallowly at first, before gaining the confidence that he wouldn't break you. By the time he had built a rhythm, pumping into you through sweaty pants, your breaths mingling together, he felt the drag of orgasm approaching him fast. Kento's imagination could never have matched up to the reality of dragging his cock through such nectar.

Any time Kento tried to talk, he broke off into anguished pants and groans into your throat, sinking his teeth there for a moment, seemingly irritated by how sloppy he'd become.

"...j'sso...uhnfuck...wet--best thing I--...huhnnn--"

Hearing you whimper and squeak as he moved within you offered him some condolence for being a speechless mess, at least.

Though you knew you wouldn't cum from this alone, you were lost in the addictive feeling of being full and fucked into by Kento chasing an instinctual high. You couldn't help but let your fingers wander downwards, rubbing your clit beneath them. The thick pressure in your belly made your pleasure three-dimensional, so much better than your fingers alone.

Kento was a quiet lover, saying more through heated glances and lingering touches than he ever could through words. Knowing he was holding back for fear of hurting you, you whispered against his ear, sending ripples down his spine.

"--harder-- pleasepleaseplease--"

"Fffuck okay...this?" Kento sunk into you to the hilt and jabbed, urging himself deeper, earning a guttural groan as his cockhead pressed against your cervix and soft-spot. He nodded into your neck, shuddering deeply. "Th-this...yeah...oh fuck, yeah..." Your toes curled against the back of his thighs, and you sobbed with the bone-deep adoration of his kisses to your womb. Kento's restraint snapped, tilting your hips as he gripped you, holding nothing else back.

Kento sped up, driving himself inside you with total abandon, his breaths coming out as spitting curses and groans. Finally, he strained above you, his moans breaking and peaking, unable to hold off any longer;

"--gonna...gonna...cum in you for--for-fucking-ever-- nnggh--"

Watching Kento break and spill himself inside you, his cock jerking with long, painfully pleasurable contractions, was the erotic vision you had sought your whole adult life. Hurriedly working your fingers until your own high hit you, had Kento collapsing on top of you to feel your pussy clenching around him, milking him of every little drop of seed.

Kento was silent, his corded back clenching over you. You nuzzled into his ear, pressing kisses along his jaw until he gave you his lips with a groan. Pulling gently out, and replacing his cock with his fingertips so he could feel how his seed dripped from your cunt, had Kento wondering vaguely how he'd ever use a condom now he'd tasted the ripe-peach of you without a barrier.

You nipped Kento's neck, jolting him back to reality. Glossy doe-eyes glimmered up at him in the dark; and you, desperate to feel full again, completely addicted to him as he was to you.

"...again?"

"...give-- give me a minute."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Heard some strange noises coming out of your room last night."

You kept your face innocently neutral at the breakfast table the next morning. You tipped your head to the side, inquisitive, as if you didn't feel multiple thick loads of Kento's seed soaking your underwear.

"Oh?"

"Mhm." A knowing stare from the other girls at the table. Kento sat down, clearing his throat, his plate piled with what should have been an embarrassing number of pastries.

"She's really good. At Pokémon battles." You had a single moment to admire Kento's absolute gall, the other girls looking at him with vague displeasure as he continued.

"Her Gengar's really strong actually. I wasn't ready for it. I thought Machamp would be a good choice, but--"

The other girls had already lost interest, turning their conversations elsewhere. Kento looked up at you from the other end of the table as you mouthed oh my god at him. He was inscrutable, apart from his twinkling eyes.

You were fortunate that none of these girls were at your wedding, years later. But you did occasionally still refer to making love as 'Pokémon battles', if just to hear your impassive, suited, quiet man laugh.

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keyotos · 2 years ago

Text

he does it so well

summary ⎯ hot things they do.

includes ⎯ dan heng, gepard, blade, sampo, & jing yuan.

tana's words ⎯ struggling with writing requests rn so i wrote something short to clear writer's block. im sorry guys i'll get to them soon i promise 😭

dan heng

⎯ waits for you before turning the page on a book. he notices that you are reading along with him and waits for you to signal that you're ready before carrying on.

⎯ private > public. he will brush your hand in public but he will be all over you in private. instead of only brushing your hand, dan heng will be brushing up on you. more touchy in private than in public.

⎯ pushes the hair out of your face when it's getting in your way. but he does it in a more sensual way. his fingers graze your lips as he agonizingly drags his hand through your hair.

⎯ long day? melts into your body at night. runs his hands up and down your arms as a way to relieve stress?? leans his head into your neck and sighs so dreamily??? like hello?? lips grazing your neck???

⎯ hot morning voice. raspy and rough. also kind of scratchy. when he tells you, "five more minutes," how could you say no to THAT voice? he knows of this effect and makes sure to use it to his full advantage

⎯ very observant. knows everything you like; knows your routines; knows you. he's the first to compliment you if you got a haircut or new outfit/nails/whatever. it always make you blush bc how is he always the first one to figure these things out?!?@#$%

⎯ gets jealous a little too easily. doesn't do anything verbal about it. opts for being a little more touchy than usual. he thinks it's embarrassing and he wants to hide his face into his pillow when you tease him about it.

⎯ lip biter. not when y'all are kissing, but when he tries to hide his smile or his laugh he bites his lip. you find it so cute and you just want to grab him and just connect your lips with his.

⎯ nerd. hot sexy nerd. he'll tell you about animals and mitosis and python and he's just so intelligent. helps you with problem solving things (probably puzzles idk) and he stands/leans over you with his breath dancing on the back of your neck.

⎯ jawline kisser. if he wants something from you he gives chaste kisses to your jawline. he does that when he's bored too ig. very big on jaw kisses and secretly loves when you flush because of them.

gepard

⎯ blushes when you compliment him. he looks so adorable you just wanna pinch his cheeks and smother him. he gets even more embarrassed

⎯ big domestic guy. ntm on casual stuff or situationships. if he wants you, he'll let you know (even if he's blushing his way through it).

⎯ he is not shy. in the beginning he might be a little shy, but later on the relationship he'll get bolder. chaste kisses on the lips becomes long make-out sessions on his bed after a rather tiring day on the front lines. and if he hasn't seen you in a while... i will let you guys interpret.

⎯ leans down to listen to you. he's literally gigantic and when he LEANS DOWN just to hear what you say... and it's so innocent too but the way you look up at him doesn't make it so innocent anymore...

⎯ pins you to the wall on accident. may or may not be inspired by teenage dream. anyway, he does a lot of hot things on accident and doesn't even realize it. so you are trying not to explode while gepard is enjoying his merry day while caging you underneath him.

⎯ acts like a knight since u always make jokes that he's your "knight in shining armor." so dedicated that he kisses your knuckles out of nowhere and it makes you want to FAINT. like you could be reading and (out of nowhere) he takes your hand away from your book and kisses ur knuckles. AND HE HOLDS EYE CONTACT WHILE DOING IT.

⎯ flirty without knowing it. says something cute and flirty but doesn't realize it until you say something. and he says it so calmly too; like drops it into a convo

⎯ runs a hand through your hair before you two sleep. he just wants to keep you close and he just wants to feel you because he never gets to come home often.

⎯ ROLLS UP. HIS SLEEVES. TO HIS FOREARMS. he does this when he's particularly stressed. like come here i can show you a way to destress (i'm so sorry).

blade

⎯ he's only shirtless when YOU are around. he trusts you enough to show all of himself around you. you are reliable and trustworthy enough to be able to know the entirety of him: his body, his mind, his past, etc.

⎯ intensely loyal to you. like if he had to choose between the world and you he would obviously choose you. would do anything for you, would buy anything for you, would steal anything for you: you guys get the gist.

⎯ he's so loving only towards you. silver wolf and kafka like to tease him for it (especially silver wolf... bc how can he play a game with you and not her). he does little things for you, like picking lint off of your outfit or pulling your hair back when you're eating something. or pulling your hair back when you're doing something...

⎯ LOVES when you wear his clothing. his shirt his jacket ANYTHING. whatever it is, he will be going crazy for it. has a thing for when you wear his shirts; you just look so good and you're wearing something that's HIS. not anyone else's; HIS SHIRT.

⎯ has a little possessive streak. it's not a weird and overprotective possessive thing tho. more so, "no silver wolf you are not going to force them to play games with you." maybe it's more overprotective than possessive, but secretly he wants you all to himself and he does NOT want to share.

⎯ speaking of being overprotective, he is also just regular protective. he walks on the side near the road so you don't have to. he grabs your arm to pull you away from something dangerous. he shields you so he'll get hit before you. yk, cute stuff like that. your safety is his priority, no matter what.

⎯ he is the type to be like, "who did this to you??" and he WILL be hunting that person down. but not without urgently caring for you first.

⎯ his touch is so filled with emotion, genuineness, earnestness, and sincere. i hc that blade doesn't have much relationship experience and he isn't very wordy, so when he hugs you or touches you, all of his emotions are poured into his hands/fingers/etc. all of what he feels for you (which is very much) is shown in his physical touch.

sampo

⎯ MANSPREADS. i said it. HE IS A MANSPREADER. elbows resting on top of his knees as he says something super coy or flirty towards you, and sometimes you even have to PHYSICALLY avert your eyes away.

⎯ a tease. if you lean in for a kiss, he'll lean backwards. if he's missing you, his fingertips will dance along the bare skin of your sides, and then he'll pull away to make you want him as much as he wants you. he is so INFURIATING.

⎯ if he flusters you and you blush n try to cover your face with something (literally anything), he'll grab whatever you're holding so he could see your face. to him, you look the prettiest when you're smiley and flustered, such as in those situations.

⎯ if you're going on a long tangent about something, he'll kiss you on your lips randomly. he doesn't mind your rambling, he thinks it's adorable, which is why he does it. it always leaves you with your jaw dropped before you could continue what you were saying.

⎯ the type to lock himself in a closet with you but on accident. you guys don't know how you two even got into that situation, but sampo is with you, so he couldn't be happier. big quality time guy.

⎯ brings you little trinkets or gifts based on his "business" adventures. whenever he sees something, he gets it for you. his mind is usually racing about you anyway, so he can't help himself when he develops a spending problem because of you

⎯ sings with you to songs. you could be singing in the shower and then you hear this agitating, grating voice. he's a terrible singer, but he'll do anything as long as you're there with him, so he sings with you anyway.

jing yuan

⎯ wakes up and the first thing he does is admire you. he studies every single one of your facial features, acting as if he's never seen them before when he wakes up to your face every day. he finds beauty all around you: in your sleeping face, on the bridge of your nose, the pout of your lips when you're asleep. he just loves all of you.

⎯ a flirt and PROUD. he's bold with his quips. not afraid of initiating affection in public but he prefers private which i think is much sexier.

⎯ neck kisser. heavy on neck kisses (especially in the morning). practically an entire body kisser tbh. he can't get enough of you, and in a world where loneliness strives (immortality), he's grateful that he has you for the time being.

⎯ grabs your chin and tilts your head up if he wants you. he doesn't do it forcefully, more like a gentle smush. he locks eyes with you and omfg it makes your heart beat sm. like why are you looking at me LIKE THAT. so sensually or whateva....

⎯ urges you to come closer to him so he can whisper something in your ear. when do you come closer to him, he pulls you by the waist and gets super close to your ear. like lips brushing your ear. and he blows a raspberry in it. so stupid but too lovable.

⎯ lies down in your lap if you two are lounging together. since he's so busy, he doesn't get to lounge around often, so he likes to be as close to you as possible.

⎯ if he wants to kiss you, you will know. not because he'll tell you. but because of the specific LOOK he gives you. his eyes are narrowed under the spell of seduction, focusing only on your lips. his mouth is slightly parted like he is ready to kiss you, and the way he tilts his head down...

⎯ patient for you. will wait for you even when he is dying to feel you once again. he has to deal with yanqing so he holds a lot of patience. but he won't rush you with anything, lets you move at your own pace, and gives you help if needed. overall sweet guy.

i hope this motivates me into finishing my requests

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗)#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #gepard x reader #gepard x you #blade x reader #blade x you #hsr blade #gepard landau x reader #sampo x reader #sampo koski #sampo x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you

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thesecondhandwoman · 2 months ago

Text

NEW HAIRCUT

Sevika x f!reader

Synopsis: Your girlfriend, Sevika, decided that it was time for a new appearance, a new her. But, she may have messed up more than intended, resulting in a sweet moment of you being there to help her.

“God, what did you do to your hair, Sevy?” you asked as you walked into the bathroom, intending to check on your girlfriend after her being hidden in the room for hours, only to be met with a hairy mess on the bathroom tile and Sevika holding scissors in her hand, now staring at you like a deer and headlights.

The scissors in her hand were midway cutting another chunk of her hair when they stopped as you interrupted her with…whatever this was.

It seemed like an attempt at a new haircut, but turned out to look like a child who had chosen not to listen to their mother’s warning about not using the scissors for unneeded reasons such as chopping their hair off and suddenly looking like a porcupine, hair up and down, long and short.

“I–” The words for a possible excuse got caught in her throat as she stared at you, slowly lowering the scissors down onto the counter. She caught a glimpse of the cut off hair in the process, staring at her feet momentarily, which made her look like a guilty or even lost puppy before looking back at you. “--I thought it was time for a new look, maybe.”

You stared at her, a tad bit surprised at the fact she wanted to cut her hair. Afterall, she had been growing it out for a long time, but then again, a lot has gone on since then. For example, Silco dropped flat off the planet after the incident with Jinx, Sevika had been taking control of Zaun because of Silco’s absence and the repercussions it had brought, and she had pretty much become a second parent with you now that you both had to watch after Jinx and Isha, the little kid that Jinx found only a few weeks ago (both complete troublemakers, but found family).

“But I am kind of shitty at this type of stuff.” She grumbled, snapping you out of your thoughts as she glanced up at the mirror and grimaced at her poor job in a personal haircut, the strands cut at different lengths and angles.

It could all be summed up to be classified as a mess, but even that may have been an understatement at the moment because of what Sevika did, or at least tried to do.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, a smile creeping on your face as you agreed with her statement. Still, you couldn’t help but also find her attempt adorable, the way she looked like a disheveled messwith that fussy pout on her face, no longer hidden when she looked up at the mirror. But then again, you couldn't blame her for such an expression.

All you could really do was agree with the fact that maybe it was time for a new look, and as her girlfriend, you would be there to help her with it, even if it seemed a bit impossible from this angle. But, it was worth taking a shot at for her.

“Alright, hand me the scissors and hair clippers.” you said with a hum of thought as you walked over to her, inspecting her hair until an image came up to possibly fix this mess on her head and please sevika at the same time with the new look it was going to have.

Sevika arched a brow, confusion written on her face when she saw that specific glint in your eyes, one both imaginative but just as dangerous. But she didn’t question out loud as she carefully handed you the scissors, followed by the hair clipper after she got it out of the bag on the side of the bathroom counter. While doing it, she looked at you from the mirror, slight hesitation in her eyes, but it didnt seem directed toward you, and it usually never was you. So, it had to be somewhat linked with the idea of a new look, maybe even the slight hint of a noticeable identity crisis behind it.

Being able to notice this, you immediately went to reassure her by placing a kiss on her temple and saying, “It will look great on you, baby…”

Her doubtful expression slowly disappeared as she took in your reassurance, a hum escaping her lips as your lips met her temple, a soft smile growing on her lips. “Mm, whatever you say, doll.”

You smiled some more and waited until she was fully coaxed before plugging in the clippers and pushing the button upwards, feeling the way it vibrated against your right hand as the cold metal of the scissors brushed against your left.

As you began to finally cut her hair, the room was filled with the sound of the clippers buzzing against her black locks and the scissors lightly snipping at the remaining ends to clean it up a bit. It only continued for a bit longer until it fell quiet again, finishing up with the clank of both objects being set down on the counter and the sound of you shuffling through the drawers to grab the stored mirror.

“And done!” You announced with a smile, looking at Sevika through the main mirror, waiting for her reaction to her new, fixed-up haircut. You made sure to position the smaller mirror in the process, angling it just enough to see the back of her head where the slight undercut was beneath.

Removing her hands from her eyes (a request you made part way through cutting her hair), Sevika glanced up at the mirror, looking at her improved haircut for the first time. Her expression almost softened immediately, a glint appearing in her eyes as she absorbed her new appearance, taking in the way her hair was much shorter, the strands looking cleaned up, and the overall cut complimenting her features.

All of it caused her a smile to grow on her face, a breathless chuckle leaving her lips as she finally said: “It’s amazing, doll..”

Your smile grew at her reaction, one you wanted so much that your heart warmed with happiness as you hugged her from behind, head resting on the back of her shoulder.

“I told you that it would look great on you.” You pointed out again, beaming at her from the mirror view.

Her smile speaded across her face at your repeated reassurance, now believing it fully as she turned around to look at you. She took your cheek into her hand and leaned forward, gently kissing your bottom lip, allowing you to feel how real her smile was versus just seeing it.

“Thank you, love.” She mumble against your lips, looking down at you with a much relaxed expression.

“Anytime, baby.” You replied before kissing her again, wrapping your arms around her neck gently tangling your fingers into her shorter hair. “Anything to help you out..”

#sevika x you #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #fluffy fanfic #fanfic #fanfic writing #lesbian #haircut #sevika arcane #Sevika #arcane #arcane season 2

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mirohlayo · 3 months ago

Text

F1 DRIVERS AND

QUIET ACTS OF LOVE

( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russel, verstappen & ricciardo )

warning : none, fluff

─ OSCAR PIASTRI

Zipping/buttoning your jacket. It has become a habit, almost a reflex for him. He is reserved and calm by nature, so showing his feelings in public is not easy for him. But some of his little actions are proof that he only has eyes for you. Like zipping your jacket before going outside. You're so used to him doing it that you just wait for him to approach you, before zipping your jacket up to your neck, to make sure you don't catch a cold. With a little kiss to finish on the forehead, as a gift.

─ LANDO NORRIS

Tying your shoes when the laces flying around. You don't really know why, but your shoelaces always tend to come undone throughout the day. So, you often stopped to tie them again, and Lando ended up noticing. Since that day, you have never touched your shoelaces again. There will always be that adorable boy with curly hair who will tie your shoelaces before they can even come undone, because there's no way his girl is going to get hurt by tripping over them.

─ CHARLES LECLERC

Pulling you closer when you're cold. It might be the cutest thing he could do. Often the weather is terrible, and you always find yourself shivering with only a few layers of clothing on you. Not enough to warm you up. But your boyfriend is always close to you, and especially ready to pull you closer to his body when he sees you trembling, frozen in place. He gently pulls you by the waist, taking care that his arm surrounds you and that his body can warm you quietly.

─ CARLOS SAINZ

Wiping something off your face. Oh, it's definitely an excuse from him so that he can admire your face or just touch you even for a short while. He's always trying to find every little detail or disturbing thing on your face, just so he can enjoy your beauty and caress your soft skin. You're not even surprised anymore when you notice that he has several packs of tissues in his bag just in case you get something on your face. After all, his princess has to keep her angelic face.

─ LEWIS HAMILTON

Encouraging words for no reason. Everyone can be in a bad mood and sometimes have boring, depressing days. And when that's the case for you, you're not sad for a long time because Lewis is always, always there to reassure you. Encourage you. To remind you how beautiful, glowing and just...perfect you are. But it's even better when he whispers these words to you for no good reason. Just him, his love for you, and his devotion. It's his job to make you smile, to encourage you because after all that's what the woman of his dreams deserves.

─ GEORGE RUSSEL

Know how you take your coffee. You like, no, you love coffee. No matter how it is prepared, coffee remains the drink you can never live without. However, you have a specific order that you order every time. You thought it was only you who knew the secret, until the day Georges brought you a cup of coffee, the same one you order every day. You're not sure how he found out, but he knows he always makes you happy when he sees you flash a big smile as he brings you your favorite coffee.

─ MAX VERSTAPPEN

Fixing your hair. The wind, your number one sworn enemy. Your hair, the thing Max loves most about you. It's so soft and so... shiny. He loves every hairstyle you do, and if you ask him which haircut he prefers on you, oh boy would say that choosing one is as hard as winning an F1 championship. So, naturally, it's a no-brainer for him to fix your hair when it's tangled or messy. Brushing your hair, smelling your shampoo, there is nothing more relaxing for him. Maybe you will even catch him having a small brush in his bag, just in case.

─ DANIEL RICCIARDO

Always gives first bite of food. For many, food is sacred. But for Daniel, it's his way of showing his love for you. He has gotten into this habit of offering you the first bite of the food he orders. Just to see your eyes light up and your smile widen as you enjoy his dish. He could literally die for this side of you, so giving him his first bite isn't a horror but rather a new chance to see you happy. And of course, he will ask you if you find it good. Otherwise, he won't take that food any more.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russel x reader #max verstappen x reader #daniel riccardo x reader

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readwritealldayallnight · 1 month ago

Note

Hello, I love your writing and I'm so sorry to bother you but I'd like to request... it may sound stupid and feel free to ignore this, maybe I'm just venting. Could you do a ghost comforts reader about their hair. Went to the hair salon today and the hairdresser cut off 7inches of my hair 😭. I know it's been said many times before but I literally feel like someone clipped my angel wings. Haven't stopped crying ever since. Hope you're doing good :,)

You were meant to call Simon to come pick you up after your hair appointment was finished, but after the stylist finally spun you around in the chair to face the mirror, you decided you needed the almost 30 minute walk home to be alone with your thoughts

You didn’t want to make this into a big deal when you saw him, it was just hair after all, you could practically already hear his deep Manchester accent telling you that it would grow back in no time

But another part of you was feeling slightly heartbroken, having gone in to the salon for what you hoped would only be a trim, an inch or two off the ends, and instead walked out with an entirely new haircut, wondering if the hairdresser had even been paying attention when you specified you wanted just a small cut

You haven’t had hair this short in a long, long time. Long before you knew Simon. And while you doubt he would ever have anything negative to say about, especially once he sees how bothered you are by it, small part of you can’t help but to worry about what his reaction will be

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket, taking your mind off your pessimistic thoughts for a moment. Glancing at the screen, you see Simon has texted you

Si <3 : ‘Nearly done?’

You : ‘I’m almost home actually, decided to walk’

Si <3 : ‘???’

You : ‘You’ll see’

You : ‘:(‘

Turning the corner and spotting your building, you steady yourself with a deep breath, figuring it’ll be easier to just rip the bandaid off so to speak, and get this stupid reveal over with

Walking up to your front door with keys jingling in hand, you’re surprised when the door swings open before you even have a chance to find your right key, your mountain of a man evidently stood there waiting for you

“What are you doin’, walkin’ home for-” He cuts himself off when his eyes notice the change, irises darting from shoulder to shoulder, over your head again and again before landing on the sour expression on your face

“She took off so much more than I wanted.” You try not to literally whine as you squeeze past his hulking frame to slip into the flat, knowing he’ll be following right behind you. “It was only supposed to be a trim. Now I look-”

“Beautiful.” He cuts you off this time, your head whipping around to see if he’s truly making fun of you right now, but you find no trace of teasing or joking across his expression. Instead, you almost think you see the faintest tint of red creeping across his pale cheeks, his eyes constantly moving as they have trouble deciding where to land on you, taking in your new appearance in a way similar to someone admiring art work in a museum

“What?” You question, wondering if you’d misheard him. Or maybe the countless head injuries were finally catching up to him and he’d confused beautiful with horrendous

He takes a tentative step closer to you, reaching a hand out to slowly run his fingers across the newly cut ends of your hair

“You look beautiful, love. Don’t ya think?” He asks you, digits still gently playing with your locks

“I mean- not really, no. I didn’t want it this short.” You say, though your distaste for the cut is slowly diminishing as you witness just how much the man in front of you adores you

“Think it’s pretty.” He mutters, bringing his other hand up to join the exploration of your hair now. “Haven’t seen ya like this before.”

“You like it?” You ask timidly.

“Mhmm.” He hums in confirmation, stepping even closer to you now, coming around to stand behind you with his hands on your shoulders. “Makes it even easier to do this.” He adds, gently brushing your locks away from your neck before pressing a kiss as gentle as a butterfly below your ear, venturing his lips down tot he side of your neck, your collarbone, any skin his mouth can find

“I- I guess so.” You agree, slinking your own arm back to wrap around his neck, holding him closer to you. “Didn’t realize you’d like it. Was sure you were just gonna tell me ‘it’s hair, it grows back’.” He snorts at your weak attempt to mimic his voice, utterly butchering the accent. You can’t help but let out a small chuckle as well, feeling much lighter now than you did when the stylist first picked up their scissors.

“You’re a smart girl, lovey. Don’t need me tellin’ you that.” He replies, muscular arms coming to wrap around your middle, keeping you as close as he physically can. “You’ll need to show me how to write a review online though. They can’t have my girl coming home this sad and not expect consequences.”

First of all, thank you so much for the love and don’t you or anyone ever apologize for sending in requests or just ranting to me, I always love to hear from you

Second, I’m so sorry your haircut didn’t go the way you wanted :( that can be so tough, but hopefully this short lil drabble puts a smile on your face

Hope you’re doing well!

- M 🫶🏻

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borathae · 4 months ago

Text

↳ Index [Snippet #50 - Roundie]

"When Jungkook accidentally gives himself a bowl cut."

Genre: Slice of Life, Fluff

Warnings: just Kookie being the cutest and roundest, she teases him for messing up his haircut, and he playfully bites her cheek for it, they're so in love, snuggles and kisses hihi

Wordcount: 1.3k

a/n: i don't have to mention what i was inspired by LIKE he is so cute you have no idea i love him so much it's actually insane :( this is also something that ogc!googie would do so i wanted to be self-indulgent and write it ihihiih <3 have fun besties 🧡

“No!”

You heard your husband exclaim this one small word around twenty minutes ago and haven't heard a word from him since. Only the blow dryer, which has been running the last few minutes, can be heard.

You and Jungkook are on a romantic holiday in Japan because the land is especially nice this time around to explore by motorbike. You are currently staying in an Airbnb somewhere in the Japanese mountains. The architecture and furniture is traditional with a hint of modern and the house offers a small private spa area. You and Jungkook have already enjoyed it earlier today, but decided to call it quits for now. You currently find yourself on the sofa in your pyjamas, relaxing with a good book and a cup of tea, while your husband locked himself up in the bathroom.

Except for his very enthusiastic and shocked “No!” you haven’t heard from him. That changes however right this instant when the blow dryer stops and the door unlocks.

“Baby?”

“Yes, Kook?”

You can’t see him yet, talking louder to make up for the distance. Judging from his voice coming closer, he is walking to you.

“So, remember how I told you that my hair is getting too long?”

You set down your book.

“What did you do?”

“Okay so, hah, funny story. So okay, you know how we met when we were both nineteen, yeah?”

“Yes?”

“Okay cool and I looked really sexy and handsome and mature?”

“Thinking back, you still looked very boyish back then, but I guess yeah you did. Why? What did you do?”

“Did you ever wonder what I looked like when I was fifteen?”

“Jeon Jungkook stop the riddles, what did you do?”

He crosses the corner, appearing in your vision. You instantly crack up, coughing out laughter and pointing your finger at him. He gave himself the roundest and cutest bowl cut ever, looking like a teen with it.

“What did you do? Baby, oh my god”, you laugh loudly.

“I cut the bangs too short. I tried to save them by cutting the sides, but then I had to match the back too and I gave myself a bowl cut.”

“You look so adorable, I can’t believe it”, you say, stumbling to your feet so you can run to him and touch his hair, “you have the roundest head ever. You’re basically a circle.”

“I’m not a circle. Baby”, he whines and pouts.

You snicker, fluffing up his sides. They instantly fall back into their natural bowl cut state.

“I can’t believe it, you turned yourself into a boba ball. God, look at you. It’s like you aged backwards.”

“It’s the same stupid hairstyle I had in middle school. Baby, please tell me I’m handsome, I’m a sad doofus right now.”

“You’re the most handsome circle ever.”

He nudges you gently, furrowing his brows.

“Shut up, you’re not helping.”

You cackle, now fumbling with his bangs.

“Of course you’re handsome, my sweetie. I’ve never seen you with your hair like this before, I love it a lot”, you say and tug on his bangs softly. They instantly bounce back into their bowl cut state, reflecting the lights from just how shiny and round his hair is. You snicker, “god it’s so cute. You’re adorable.”

“I'm neither cute nor adorable. I’m manly and sexy. Urgh, I ruined myself.” He whines and drops his head on your Shoulder. “I'll accept it if you divorce me now.”

“Divorce-ha!” You laugh loudly, giving his butt a playful spank, “you dramatic baby, you. I already told you that I love it. You’re very handsome and of course, very manly and sexy.”

He lifts his head, giving you a small grin.

“But…also very cute and adorable.”

He furrows his brows, opening his mouth.

You instantly silence him, “which is a good thing because it means I wanna cuddle you even more often.”

“Wait. This is a good thing”, he says, making you chuckle.

“It is. Gosh you, let me take a picture. You’re so adorable.”

“If you must.”

Despite his initial complaints, Jungkook ends up posing with pouted lips and his hand throwing up a peace sign. It’s his signature pose he does in pictures and he looks very adorable tonight. You giggle at the picture, putting it as your lock screen. You show it to him.

“Look, now when someone asks me about you, I can tell them I’m married to a roundie.”

“You”, Jungkook points his finger at you. “Stop it.”

You cackle.

His features soften, a warm smile washes over his face. He gives up with a fond scoff and a little chuckle, closing the distance by grabbing your waist and pulling you snug against him. You and he sway from side to side, looking deeply into each other’s eyes. You have your arms hooked behind his head.

“You’re lucky that you’re so cute, otherwise I would have to bite your cheeks for your annoying antics”, he says.

“Mhm bite my cheeks you say? Ohoho mister what a thread, especially coming from a life sized choco ball such as yourself.”

“Yah”, he complains and gives your buttocks a squeeze.

“Sorry, sorry last one I promise. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself”, you snicker, rubbing his neck in apology.

Jungkook chuckles, rubbing his hands over your buttocks innocently.

“It’s insane how good it fits you. Up close, you can really tell that you fucked it up, but it looks so good on you that it’s not even bad that you fucked it up.”

“Is it really bad?”

“No, not at all. Your bangs are a little choppy, but it’s cute. Very handsome. Gosh”, you squish his cheeks, “your eyes look even prettier with this hair. It’s like they’re supporting each other’s roundieness. You’re seriously so handsome.”

Jungkook smiles shyly, “thanks, heh. Roundieness isn’t even a word by the way.”

“It is now.”

Jungkook simply furrows his brows and goes in for the attack. He bites your cheek. Gently of course.

“Yah”, you step back, wiping the saliva from your skin.

“I warned you and you wouldn’t listen. Consequences of your own actions, missy.”

“Don’t talk to me about consequences of my own actions, Mister Accidental Bowl Cut Which Aged Him Back Decades.”

Jungkook laughs and hugs your waist. You chuckle.

“Come on you, let’s go to bed and cuddle.”

“Yay cuddles. I swear today drained me. I almost fell asleep in the hot spring.”

“Baby, you fell asleep. I had to hold your head so you wouldn’t accidentally drown.”

“I guess I did. I couldn’t help it. It was warm and cozy. I felt very relaxed.”

You and he get under the same blanket. He lies down on his side, you face him. His bangs fall to one side, now looking like those typical two thousand tens bangs every teenage boy had back then.

You play with them, eyes spilling over with love.

“If I had met you back then, I so would have had a crush on you.”

“Really?”

“Mhm totally. You would have been my type. You are my type, but you get what I mean.”

“I do, yeah.” He smiles and reaches out to play with your hair. “You would have been my type too. Your mom showed me pictures of you when you were a teen and I would have had such a crush on you back then.”

“Oh god”, you chuckle, “I was such a mess though. Did she show you the pic of my clip in leopard print hair strands I rocked with black eyeliner?”

“Of course she did. You totally rocked them.”

“No I didn't, I looked ridiculous.”

“At least you didn’t look like a circle.”

You laugh, “mhm maybe, but you’re the most handsome circle I have ever seen”, you say, pushing him to his back and climbing on his lap.

Jungkook holds your hips instantly, purring his words as he gazes at your lips.

“Yeah? I’m a handsome circle?”

“Mhhm the most handsome.”

“Hah, come and kiss me, baby.”

You smile, he smiles, sharing a breathy chuckle and little moan with you.

“Kiss me, please.”

“Fuck Kook, I can’t get enough of you”, you say and pull him into a deep kiss.

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ariestrxsh · 1 month ago

Note

could you write a blurb on horny reader touching herself in the car, while matt is sitting next to her, driving, and he talks her through it and like instructs her and shit?

(if this is a bad idea please ignore🙈)

Literally not a bad idea at all! I took your idea and spiced it up a bit. 😇 I hope you like what I came up with. 💖

Matt talks you through touching yourself on a long drive...

It had been a long drive. You were several hours in and still had a few more to go, your boyfriend's playlist looping for a third time on the speakers of the car.

You looked over at Matt, who looked incredibly good today. You weren't sure if it was his most recent haircut, maybe his grown out stubble, or maybe the way the veins on his hands really popped when he gripped the steering wheel.

It could have even been the small bumps in the road or the vibrations of the car, drawing your attention to the throbbing between your legs. Either way, you couldn't help the wet spot that was beginning to form on the front of your panties while you studied your boyfriend who looked concentrated - and a bit bored, granted you had been on the same stretch of road for fifty miles now.

He let out a big, long yawn, wrinkling his nose and rubbing his eyes. "You doing alright?" You asked him. "Yeah, just getting tired. You mind talking to me a little bit to keep me awake?" He wondered. "I actually have a better idea to keep you awake," you said, smirking and narrowing your eyes at him as a diabolical plan took form in your mind.

You were horny, and Matt needed something to keep him alert. Why not solve both your problems at once?

"Oh, and what could that be?" Matt flirtatiously asked. He could tell by the tone of your voice that you were about to suggest something naughty. Without saying anything, you unbuckled your seat belt and pulled down your shorts along with your panties. Matt's eyes widened as you took your purple laced thong and hung it from his rearview mirror.

You pulled your makeup mirror out of your purse, propped your leg up on the side of the door, and hooked your arm around your thigh with the mirror in hand to give Matt a look at your wet pussy. "Why don't you do the talking, and I'll do whatever you tell me to?" You asked, grinning over at Matt.

His gaze was locked on the mirror that was reflecting the perfect view of your cunt back at him, and his lips curled into a smile after he wet them. "Spread it open for me, baby," Matt requested, his blue eyes dancing back and forth between the road and what you were showcasing for him, focusing just a bit more on the latter.

You took your two fingers and slowly spread your lips to reveal your intricate folds to him. "Mmm. It's so pretty, baby. Why don't you start rubbing your clit in circles for me?" He cooed, his cock jolting awake at the sight. You took the tips of your fingers and placed them over your bundle of nerves, moving them in a circular motion. You sharply inhaled at the sensation.

"That's my girl. Do it just like that for me," he encouraged you. He loved watching you, and he adored how spontaneous you were when it came to these kinds of things. "Why don't you go a little faster?" He said in a low, sexy voice, getting turned on by the way your pussy drooled onto his seat. You did as he said, drawing tighter circles and biting down on your lip to keep a whimper from sneaking out.

He adjusted the volume dial, turning his playlist into nothing but quiet background noise."C'mon. I know you're not shy. Your panties are hanging from my rearview. Let me hear you," he leaned over, purring into your ear. Your head fell back, and you let out a moan at the way Matt spoke to you while you played with yourself based on his direction.

"Put them inside and fuck yourself with them," Matt smirked at you. You listened obediently, your eyes rolling back into your head as you did. He looked into the reflective surface at how you stretched perfectly around your fingers, coating them with your juices, slowly moving them in and out of your hole.

"Give me a taste, baby," Matt requested, and you pulled your fingers out just long enough for Matt to grab your hand and suck them clean while he looked into your eyes. "Mmm. Good girl. Now keep going," he told you, his glance flicking back over towards the road. You put your digits back in, and when he told you to add one, you did. "Faster," he whispered, admiring you.

He couldn't get enough of the sounds of your playing with yourself, your needy whimpers and the way you squelched around your three fingers as you vigorously pumped them deep into your cunt. "Pretend it's my cock," Matt purred, knowing that's exactly what he was imagining, desperate to watch you cum all over your fingers. You curled them, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, nearing orgasm while you imagined it was your boyfriend fucking you.

Matt was completely hypnotized by you and the intimate show you were putting on for him. You started to get close, and Matt could read it in the pleasure written on your face. "Come on. Be a good girl and finish all over those fingers for me," Matt cooed, giving you permission to cum.

Your legs started to tremble, your core started to shake, and your pussy throbbed around your fingers. Your urgent moans filled the car, drowning out the soft sound of Matt's playlist coming through the speakers. Matt intently watched, his cock twitching in his jeans as you squirted all over the mirror, splashing some on his seat and coating your hand with your juices.

He couldn't get enough of how hot it was that his girlfriend could squirt, and he loved it anytime you'd show it off.

"Holy shit, that was hot," Matt whispered, taking in the view one last time before shifting his eyes back to the road with a newfound alertness. "Well, I'm awake now."

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo drabble

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luveline · 2 years ago

Text

spoilers for spider-man: across the spider-verse below

please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel hops dimensions expecting a new family, and a new life. he’s not expecting you —featuring a tired miguel and his confused but adoring wife. or, miguel gets the comfort he so desperately needs. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k

tw. gun mention/no graphic scenes

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel seems different when he comes home that night. You've loved him for years, you know his face. He looks slightly younger and older at the same time, impossibly so. He looks like he has bad news and he doesn't want to tell you. Something harrowing. How else can you explain his expression?

You stand up from the dinner table. "Hey," you say gently. "Is there something wrong?"

He isn't convincing when he answers, "What? Uh, no. Nothing's wrong."

"Something looks wrong."

You step in front of him and lift your chin. Usually, he'd look down with a smirk, or at the very least a smile, but he seems weary. You lift your hand to his cheek, pinching it between your fingers without malice.

"Smile, handsome. You have a lovely smile."

He smiles. His lips part just slightly. "You… you really love me. You're happy."

"We're happy," you correct. "Me, you, and Gabs forever, right?"

"Gabs?" he asks.

"Don't start with me. Gabriella's a mouthful. A beautiful mouthful," you concede. "I still think we should've named her Sofia. And yeah, Miguel. I love you. Really really. Don't forget it."

You make him sit at the kitchen table. It's a selfish manoeuvre; you want him to sit so you can actually reach his hair. Your husband is the tallest man you've ever met.

"Did you get a haircut?" you ask, running your fingers through his hair slowly. He shivers at your touch, and tilts his head back in question. "You did. That's such a betrayal, my love. I've been cutting your hair for going on six years now, I'm suddenly not good enough?"

"You're good enough," he says. He really sounds so strange.

"I'm joking. Miguel, if there's something wrong, you really need to tell me. I can make it better. Well, I can try." You bite your lip, unnerved by his quiet, solemn air.

"Am I being weird?" he asks.

"No," you say, worried he thinks you're judging him. You never would. (He's being really weird.) "Of course not, you're just quiet tonight, that's all. Did you have a bad day at work?"

"I– I got mugged. On the way home from work. I forgot the– the milk."

"You what?" you ask, eyes widening in shock. Miguel's kind of gigantic. You've always said that you pity the fool who tries it, but apparently he's less hardy than you thought. A mugging explains his weird behaviour these last five minutes, at least. "What happened? Sweetheart, are you okay?"

You take his face into both hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a scratch along his jaw, but he seems unhurt. You suppose being attacked would age you instantaneously too.

"Miguel, are you in shock? Should I take you to the hospital?"

"I'm okay. I just feel strange."

"Are you sure?” He nods hurriedly. You purse your lips. “I'll make you something warm to drink, that'll help. As long as you're not hurt, right? Did he take your wallet? We'll have to cancel your credit card."

Miguel catches your shirt before you can go too far.

"Hm?" you hum in question.

Miguel visibly deliberates. His eyebrows lift ever so slightly. "Could I hug you?"

The hurting and worry you have for him intensify before falling on the back-burner. You can shove your own feelings aside easily if he needs comforting.

"I don't think you have to ask me," you say, offering your arms.

Miguel is usually a short but meaningful hugger. You've hugged so many times and in what feels like every place on earth, and he's such a tall man that even if he doesn't mean for them to be, his arms are all encompassing.

It surprises you that this hug is different. He's tentative. When his hand falls to the small of your back it slots into place, and you can feel his relief like a palpable thing.

"You’re okay," you say, your lips at his crown, your legs between his.

He's keeping space between you, and you don't like it. You press yourself as close to him as possible, your arms behind his shoulders, cupping the back of his head. Soft hair tickles your palm.

"Was it scary?"

"Was what scary?" he asks. You don't mention his little sniff. He's smelling your hair.

"Being mugged? Did he have a gun?"

"Yeah, he did."

"Oh, I see. There's no shame in being scared, you know that?"

"I'm not scared. I wasn't scared when it happened. I just wanted to come home to you."

You frown. His admission is like a barb in your chest, aimed true for your heart. "I'm so glad you did," you confess against his forehead, a murmur of sound. "So, so glad. I don't know what I'd do without you."

You kiss his head three times in a row. The last kiss lingers, his arms slackening around you.

You pull away, not wanting to smother him. Whoever's watching knows he's had enough of you these last few years.

"Where–" Miguel clears his throat. "Where's Gabriella?"

"She's in her room. Call her."

You're hoping time with her will bring him back into focus. He's clearly more affected by this than he's willing to say. You don't know how you feel about it. Terrified, because you could've lost him. Euphoric that you didn't. You'd had this funny feeling all day long, and it's weird, you’d felt that something bad happened, a moment at the sink with Gabriella singing in her room, the clock ticking on the wall. Miguel late, but promising to bring the groceries you needed home with him before dinner.

"Gabriella?" he calls up the stairs. You watch from the stove.

You'll grab the pan and make him some hot cocoa. Just as soon as he stops looking scared.

"Daddy?" Gabriella asks back. She's audibly ecstatic, and her footsteps are a stampede from her bedroom. You can see her from the kitchen when she gets to the bottom of the stairs. "Dad, pick me up!"

"Oh, right," Miguel says, leaning down to hold her.

He pulls her with all the grace of an elephant to his chest, and she nearly chins him.

"Woah, careful."

"Dad, you're super late. Mom said I can yell at you for being late."

"You can yell at me, if you want to." He gives her a curious look. "I'm sorry for taking so long."

Gabriella tilts her head to the side, dark hair shifting. She's a gorgeous little girl and her dad can't withstand it, melting as you hoped he would, the taut string of his back finally cut in two.

"I don't want to yell at you," she whispers.

"Good, because I don't want you to yell," he whispers back.

Gabriella leans back in his arms and giggles thickly. He almost drops her, and has to readjust his hold on her back.

"I'm so happy you're home!" she cheers, bringing her little hands up together from her chest and thrusting them out like fireworks. "You work too much! I thought doctors was s'posed to make everyone better and go home."

"I'm not that kind of doctor," he says.

You turn from where you've brought cocoa powder and milk to an emulsified simmer on the stovetop and beam at him. It's your favourite thing in the whole world when she mixes it up. Ever since she found his ID card with DR. written clear as day before his name, she's been under the impression that he works at the general hospital. Alchemex might break medical thresholds, but it is far from a hospital.

"Are you having hot cocoa with your dad?" you ask Gabriella.

She gasp in excitement and lists toward you. Miguel almost drops her for a second time. "Yes, oh my gosh!"

"Well, come and sit. What mug?"

Gabriella can't decide on what mug she wants; there's the orange cat with too many whiskers, there's the black one with bright white stars. After some deliberation, she decides on her and Miguel's matching daddy-daughter mugs.

"You're having some too, right?" he asks you.

"Don't I always?" you ask. "Though I do want to protest the mugs. Where's my mug? Don't I deserve number one mom?" You kiss the top of Gabriella's head where she languishes in Miguel's lap, before placing their hot cocoa down far from her arm's reach. "It's hot."

Miguel doesn't touch his. You blow cold air at Gabriella's and dip your fingertip into it periodically, content to spend some time with them both in amicable quiet. Gabriella just loves him to pieces, and she leans back in his arms with her eyes closed, basking in his closeness.

She squints at you with one eye. "Dad?"

Miguel doesn't answer. You nudge his foot.

"What?" he asks.

"You're not doing the thing."

"The thing?"

You frown.

"Yeah, dad." She huffs and curls his arm manually across her front. "Please, I want the kisses."

He looks at you, completely lost. You're feeling similarly confused. "She wants you to kiss her hair," you say, wondering if perhaps he's suffering from stress related amnesia.

He leans down carefully and kisses her hair. It's not the usual enthusiastic kiss, and he doesn't bother blowing in her ear after.

Gabriella glares at him. "My ear!"

"Blow in her ear," you mouth.

He blows gently into her ear. She shivers, shudders, and laughs up a storm.

When the cocoa's been drunk and the mugs washed and put away, Gabriella races upstairs, promising to return with a storybook and the drawing she made earlier in the day once she’s changed into her pyjamas. Miguel looks less lost than he had. In fact, he looks normal. The warm drink has put colour in his cheeks, and his daughter's cuddles have done their job. He's relaxed. He's forgotten the fear of the mugging, you're almost sure of it.

You waver beside him. "Can I sit with you, or am I too heavy?"

"Why would you be too heavy?" he asks.

"You always say I'm too heavy," you say, sitting down on his thighs. They feel solid, a little different from usual. Miguel works out, but this is strange. He must be more tense than you thought. "It's your worst joke."

"I'm sorry. I won't say it if it upsets you," he says, his voice rough and low.

"Who said anything about that?" He's never called you heavy to be cruel.

"Sorry," he apologises again. "I think all the excitement today messed me up."

You spread your fingers wide across his chest, his heart beating a surface below. "It's okay. You don't have to react any one way…" You rub the tip of your nose against his jaw lightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. I had this weird feeling like something bad happened to you, you know?"

Miguel laughs and coughs at the same time. It borders on being distressed. He's really worrying you. "You did?" he asks.

"Mm-hm. But you're okay." You work hard to sound sure.

His hand slides between your legs, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your upper thigh, though it doesn't stay there. He pulls away, looking flustered. "Sorry."

"For what?" You blink.

"I don't know."

You laugh and press a kiss to the column of his throat, your nose squished against him. "I was thinking we'd watch that new movie tonight, with Harry Woodson, but it has guns and stuff. Would that still be okay?"

He puts his hand behind your ear and guides your head back to look you in the eye. It's a familiar touch. He looks like himself again, though you truly are offended by his haircut. Maybe something happened at work and fried it off.

"You're really something special," he says quietly.

"How so?"

His face softens with your flirting tone. "You're kind. You're so kind. I've never met someone like you."

"What are you talking about?" you mumble. It's your turn to feel flustered, jellified by the earnestness lining his features.

"You're sweet, and soft, and so pretty," he says, matching your tone. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time.

You understand the feeling. Sometimes you look at him and can't believe he's your love.

"Soft," you repeat. "Are you trying to say something?"

"Like that. That joke. You don't even sound mad."

"You don't have to be so amazed. I've been like this since we met, haven't I? I'm hardly ever angry with you." You follow down from his eye to his jaw with your knuckle, tracing a tear he hasn't shed. He's spun you into thoughtfulness, and more than that —reverential fondness for him aches in the very centre of your stomach.

"I must have some good luck," he says.

His near death experience has inspired a wave of sappiness.

You lean in until your forehead touches his, giving him time to close his eyes or lean away if he wants to.

"I love you," you say simply. "You're not lucky, you're amazing, and all this good you see in me? I see it in you, O'Hara." You huff a laugh, breath fanning over his top lip as you steal a wonky kiss. You pull back. "You're sure–"

Miguel kisses you. His hand flies to the back of your neck and his lips are eager, his head tilted to one side to accommodate your nose. He deepens the kiss and it's a mess, really, nothing like his usual kisses, no practised ease, nor confident touches. His fingertips push at the hairs lining the nape of your neck as though he's not sure what to do with his hand. It's like kissing him for the very first time.

It's not a bad kiss.

You kiss back slowly. You're the steadying constant to his hotheadedness, in kissing and in everything else, pulling time into an endless stretch of his mouth under yours, his body heat seeping into your skin.

The sharp point of a tooth catches your bottom lip. You gasp into his mouth and flinch away from him.

"Um, ouch? What was that, handsome, did you get your teeth filed to spikes?" you ask, probing your lip, a flood of giggles slipping between your fingers.

He looks at you like you've lit the sky one star at a time.

"Sorry," he says. "I'll be more careful, I swear."

"Sure," you laugh. "Well, you'll have to be more careful later. You promised Gabriella you'd read her the Wishing Tree, and she's expecting a performance. Voices included."

He adjusts you in his lap with more strength than you knew he had. "Will you help?"

You'll always help him. He doesn't even need to ask.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!

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gaytommykinard · 5 months ago

Text

hello 911blr here's another little snippet of my fake dating au. it's going so slowly. but at least it's going!

Buck catches his attention pretty much right away − Tommy’s gaze is immediately drawn to his ridiculously plump, pink mouth, before taking in the rest of the picture. He’s frowning at the camera, almost like seeing his own reflection mirrored on his phone’s screen through the front-facing lens is offending him, somehow, and why would this guy choose that picture to be front-and-centre on his dating profile? Still, his messy, curly hair, and the scruff on his jawline, and − the ridiculous lips − are hard to resist. Tommy taps to check out the rest of his pictures. In one, he’s clean-shaven, wearing a white hoodie, smiling so big and bright, his gaze somewhere behind the camera, probably fixed on whoever was taking the picture; then there’s another frowny selfie right after that, taken inside a car, with a seatbelt across his chest and a black Labrador resting his little head on the guy’s shoulder, and okay, that’s fucking adorable. Tommy can’t help but smile − but that only lasts until he reads the guy’s bio.

hello grindr i’m not gay (but i’m an ally!) anyway i need a fake boyfriend to be my date to my parents’ stupid anniversary party because they told me not to bring “another new girlfriend” so i’m just trying to comply with their request :-) in return you will get an all-you-can-eat-buffet and open bar. or anything else you want (short of sexual favours)

Yeah, that tracks. These wholesome-looking guys always come with at least one red flag. And this is a fucking massive one.

Tommy bites down on his lower lip and tells himself he’s not actually thinking about messaging, but he knows he’s lying to himself. He tries to weigh the pros and cons for all of five minutes before he thinks, fuck it, and decides to send a message. What’s the worst that could happen? With a deep exhale, Tommy taps on the little message button and types out the only logical opener he can think of.

tommy: if you can prove you’re not a catfish, i’m more than happy to be your fake date

buck: how do i prove i’m not a catfish? buck: you can look me up on instagram. i’m buckley92

tommy: hah, nah, that won’t do. it’s gonna have to be a dickpic i’m afraid. with today’s newspaper of your choice.

buck: who the fuck is still buying newspapers buck: fine. give me half an hour

Tommy puts his phone aside with the biggest grin on his face. If nothing else, it’s been entertaining, at least so far. He still doubts this guy is real, or his request for a fake boyfriend isn’t just a thinly veiled excuse for a curious-but-still-firmly-heterosexual guy to go venturing in the most notorious dating app for queer men − which is entirely unnecessary.

He gets to his feet and goes about cleaning up the mess in the kitchen he’s been successfully ignoring for the last 24 hours, and puts a load of laundry on, knowing he’s running out of clean underwear, and he’s settled back on his comfy couch, ready to dive back into Small Town Horror when his phone pings with a new notification, and Tommy grins when he sees it’s another message from Buck.

It’s a selfie of the same man from the profile pictures, and instantly Tommy exhales with relief. He looks a little different in this picture; younger, somehow, and it might have something to do with the haircut he’s currently sporting, and the lack of product in his dark blonde hair, letting the curls loose. Tommy wants to run a hand through his hair, but he files that away into a far away corner of his mind, as his gaze drops to the dramatically pouty expression on Buck’s face. He’s holding a copy of Los Angeles Times, which has the words “TOMMY FROM GRINDR MADE ME DO THIS” written across the front page in thick black marker. There’s a message sent right after the selfie that reads “will this do or… do you still need the dick pic?”

tagging some interested people

@osh-my-prince @apartmentsmoke @repressedqueen @jewishbuckley and i can't remember who else i might have talked to about this???? if interested in future updates drop me a comment and i'll tag you🫶

#bucktommy #fake dating au #my wips

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jigeuminunbich · 1 month ago

Text

more than a little bit | kim donghyun (leehan)

synopsis — you’re not exactly sure what love is supposed to feel like, seeing as you’ve never experienced it and leehan is your first ever relationship. but after scolding him for contemplating a haircut, you realize that you might just be familiar with the sensation.

genre — nonidol!au, fem!reader, established relationship, and straight fluff

content — leehan wants to cut his hair (reader is strongly against that) and cheesy i love you’s

word count — 1k

author’s note — the fact this is my second (2nd) time writing abt being against an idol cutting their hair ijbol

��Woah,” Leehan pauses in the mirror right beside his bed, ruffling a hand through his unruly brown locs. “I need a haircut.” he comments, it’s quiet— intended to be taken as something lighthearted as he punctuates with a short laugh.

But you pull your head from your device at it nonetheless, eyes piercing into the back of your boyfriend’s head, “No, you don’t.”

“___, are you joking? Look at me,” he shakes his head, his long tresses following suit. Okay, yeah, his hair had gotten exponentially longer in the time you’ve been together. There was always the occasional comment from him or his friends that he was seriously overgrowing it but you happened to like his long hair— Leehan knew this well.

“I am looking at you… and you look fine.” You state slowly, almost as if you’re confused.

Leehan snorts, looking over his shoulder to glare at you through slitted eyelids, “You just don’t want me to cut it.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I still think it looks good.”

Not even a moment later does your boyfriend eject from his spot next to you to stand, “Well if that’s the case, then I’m cutting it—“

“No!” Panicked, you reach out to grab ahold of his arm. Leehan looks between where you grip him and the alarmed look in your eyes.

“You were saying?” He laughs as you recede with a sheepish attitude.

You sit on the back of your calves, reaching that same hand up to twist a finger in one of his curly strands, “It’s not even that bad, ‘Hannie. You’re being dramatic…”

Leehan soaks in the adorable pout that finds the plush of your lips before finding your gaze, “I’m the dramatic one here?”

That same pout deepens, almost teetering on a frown as you fully pull away from the boy. He watches you as you crawl back to your designated place on his bed. “Okay, fine, do whatever you want.”

Leehan’s eyebrows disappear into his mane, though an amused smile still plays on his mouth, “You don’t care?”

“Nope.” You answer, returning to the depths of your phone.

“Hmm. So if I leave out right now, you won’t stop me?” Your boyfriend continues to probe you, earning an eye roll from you.

Slow, he takes a few steps away from the side of his bed, walking in the direction of his closet, “Fine… I’m gonna get ready now…”

You nod, “Okay.”

The door to his wardrobe creaks open when Leehan leisurely twists the knob, “And I’m going to leave out to cut my hair…”

“Have fun.” You deliver him an uninterested wave which seems to be his last straw. The door closes as Leehan draws back to join you on his bed. You try to continue your stoic act but it’s hard when his body familiarly slots between your legs. His presence forces your eyes up from the meaningless content in your hands and to his gaze. It makes you giggle that he struggles to retain it without running the chance of a strand poking him in the eye.

“You suck at acting like you don’t care about me, y’know that?” Your hands reach up to push his tresses back into place as well as you could, completely abandoning your phone to the side.

“Fine. I don’t want you to cut your hair, is that so wrong?” You bat your lashes innocently.

Leehan bites back a smile, fighting just how effective the soft touch of your hands on his face and the flutter of your lashes is, “Is it wrong that you’re okay with your boyfriend walking around looking god awful? Well yes.”

This seems to personally offend you, an actual frown finding your features, “You don’t look awful! And who cares…” your hands travel to the sides of your boyfriend’s neck, pulling his body fully atop of yours.

“—you don’t even have to go outside, you can stay with me.” It’s muffled into the fabric into his t-shirt but Leehan still reacts with a deep laugh, you can feel his chest vibrate with amusement.

“Oh you’re crazy,” he determines, though it’s still lighthearted in nature. “Okay, I can endure one more week. Just for you.”

You shutter when he punctuates his declaration with a brisk kiss to the side of your face, and you try to ignore how fuzzy the gesture makes you feel.

“Awe, you love me that much?” You exaggeratedly ask, your tone is playful as you hope to tease your boyfriend since you’ve successfully persuaded him from touching his hair (for now).

Leehan laughs, shuffling from your tight grasp to hover over you just a bit, “Heh. I love you more than that.” His tone is light as well but his words leave a deep feeling to tugging in your stomach.

“… you love me for real?” The question tumbles out from your lips before you can even catch it, you hope Leehan doesn’t pick up on your split second of panic but of course, being the person he is, he does.

His merriment depletes for a moment as he adjusts to your evident shock, “I— yeah, I do. Of course I do.”

That pit in your stomach begins to swell with the flutter of butterflies, the giddiness that Leehan’s confession brings you shows up on your face as you beam a wide smile up towards him. “I think I love you too.”

Leehan quirks an eyebrow before he tilts his head, “You think?”

You swallow, slight panic running through you, “I’m not sure what it's meant to feel like but… it feels right—“

Your quick explanation is cut short at the melodic sound of Leehan giggling and half-hearted annoyance takes over your feeling of distress.

“I’m just teasing you, love. If you aren’t sure—“ Leehan begins to clarify.

It’s your turn to interrupt him, shaking your head with a content grin permanently painted on your face, “No, no. I am. I love you too, Leehan.”

Your reiteration of your love for Leehan leaves him silent for a moment, he leans down quick enough so you can’t catch the spreading flush taking over the expanse of his cheeks. You gladly return his intention to kiss you, giggling softly against his lips.

Leehan pulls away, opting to completely lay his body on top of yours. Your hands immediately find his scalp to play in his hair.

“Mm. To think this all happened ‘cause I threatened a haircut. I should do that more often.” He murmurs, a wicked snicker leaving him when you stall all movements on top of his head.

“You’re evil.”

“You love me.”

And that you definitely did.

#જ⁀➴ mads’ writes to:#kim leehan x reader #boynextdoor fanfic #leehan x reader #kim donghyun x reader #boynextdoor fic #boynextdoor x reader #leehan x you #leehan x y/n

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