#him and i blurb

[mikkomacko]

Different anon! but uhhh might we get a scene of reader and Nico with the stache? 👀🫣 love this little world so much, thank you!

“Up.”

“What?”

“Budge up.”

Nico smacks at the back of your thighs, palming your bare skin as urges you to slide up his body. You falter, awkwardly slumped against his pushing hands as you blink down at him in confusion.

He widens his eyes expectantly.

“Uh, what?”

He rolls his eyes, licking at his swollen lips you’ve bitten red. Then he’s pushing at you again.

“Sit on my face.”

Like it’s no big deal, something casual you two do all the time. Which, it’s not like you haven’t done it before, multiple times, but you were literally two seconds away from sinking onto his leaking cock when he stopped you.

It’s just little abrupt.

When you don’t move he puffs out a sigh, squeezing at the fleshy part of your thighs. “Put the mustache to good use,” he urges, amusement sparkling in those dark eyes of his.

“Nico you don’t need a mustache to make that face a good seat.”

If he’s caught off guard by your words he doesn’t show it. Though you suppose he’s used to hearing things like that from you. Licking his lips, he motions for you to get a move on. And who are you to deny him twice?

Pausing, you press your naked chest to his again, capturing his mouth in a wet kiss. He palms at your ass, moaning softly. He doesn’t let you forget the plan however, biting at your lip and shoving your hips up his torso until you’re folded awkwardly.

Forced to pull back, you sit up straight and rise to your knees. You can hear the way his breath hitches as you shuffle up onto the pillows, knees on either side of his face.

“Fuck me,” he sighs heavily, breath hot and sticky when it reaches your pussy. Whatever witty remark was on your tongue gets bitten back when he tugs you down until you’re sitting flat on his tongue.

Instinctively, you rock into his face, chills running up your spine when his tongue dips into your walls, wet and prodding. His nose tickles your clit, just light enough to have you desperate for a little more. More than you don’t even have to ask for because-

Oh, oh that stupid mustache is doing it all for him.

You’re used to the feeling of his usual beard, how it’s scratchy and warm on your thighs. Rough where his fingers and mouth are always so soft.

But you’re not used to this. That feeling all concentrated in one spot, teasing at your clit each time you shift on Nico’s tongue.

“Oh fuck,” you moan, one hand latching onto the headboard and the other finding Nico’s hair, splayed out on the pillows. He hums his approval, the sound purring perfectly against your hole.

Daring, you peer down at Nico. He’s already watching you, the only part of his face that’s really visible being his eyes. They’re blown out and dark, a beautiful contrast to his skin and the white pillows below him. They’re also unyielding, thick lashes barely fluttering when you experimentally grind into his tongue and mustache.

Encouraging, Nico wraps his thick arms around your thighs, hands pawing and grabbing at your ass. Then he’s pushing you, guiding you into riding his face.

You don’t need to be told twice.

Unashamedly, you rock back onto his tongue and then shift forward into the rough scratch of his facial hair. Nico’s hands are strong, blunt nails digging into your skin as he guides you into using his face to get off.

It’s so hot, he’s so hot and that damned Movember mustache does more than you’d thought it would. It doesn’t take long for you to get lost in the feeling of Nico’s mouth, head tilted back towards the ceiling.

“Nico,” you cry, tightening your hold on his hair and grinding down on him. He doubles his efforts, his mouth and hands feeling like they’re everywhere as the hot coil in your belly tightens and tightens until it snaps.

You cum hard on Nico’s tongue, slumping forward into the headboard as blood roars in your ears and your muscles tighten and twitch. Distinctly, you hear Nico make some sort of noise of approval, the sound boarding on a whimper.

He eases up, softly and gently prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible. Large hands rub at your thighs, soft and soothing before they’re nudging you up. Numbly, you rise to your knees and then Nico’s kissing at the inside of your thighs, the coarse hair of his mustache scratchy and tingling on your skin.

“God you’re beautiful,” he mutters between kisses, and you blink your eyes open, panting as you look down at him.

Fuck he’s beautiful, you think in response. Dark eyes and messy hair, lips and nose red and damp. He looks absolutely filthy, and yet his hands and lips are touching you so sweetly, his eyes watching you with so much love.

“Ok,” you agree, quietly. “The mustache can stay for a bit.”

You feel his smirk on your thigh. “That’s my girl.”

[heavenbarnes]

thinking about your older bf!simon that cannot cope with being far from you.

when you’re in the shower, he’s sat on the lid of the toilet on his phone (watching those rug cleaning videos) enjoying your faint singing under the stream of water, the smell of your body wash on the cloud of steam- ready to pass you a towel or get your back.

when you’re at your desk, working from home or studying, he’s just on the other side of it reading the paper with one outstretched leg tangled with both of yours. he’s dead quiet when you’re on a call, just happy to be around.

when you’re doing laundry, collecting the clothes in the hamper and crouching to stuff them into the washer- turning around and accidentally colliding with a thick wall of muscle.

“sorry, love”

he steps aside but you can hear his soft footfalls as he continues to follow you throughout your home.

when you’re both watching something on the couch, what starts as his pinky locked with yours turns into his arm around your waist. that turns into your head on his chest, which culminates with you falling asleep in his lap with his cheek on your head and soft snores emanating from his lips.

when you grocery shop, you push the trolley but his chest is to your back, arms either side of you and hands clasped over yours on the handle. you can thank his military training for his uncanny ability to tell exactly when you’ll stop walking.

when he wakes up in the middle of the night, on a rare occasion when you’ve managed to slip out of bed without him realising, he’s immediately in a panic calling your name.

“in here, my love”

as soon as his heart settles, he realises the bathroom light was probably a dead giveaway. you’re taking a wee, you’ll be back in a minute.

that doesn’t stop a sleepy simon from leaning in the doorframe, shielding his eyes from the big light as he waits for you to finish up.

even on the short walk back to bed, you can feel fingers twisted in the back of your shirt- almost like you’re leading the way.

minute you’re both on the mattress, you’re being wrapped up in his arms, slotting you perfectly into the curve of his front- almost like you’re made for him.

(and you are)

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

kaminari complains to his friends about how gross it is that you and katsuki kiss every morning in front of your classroom door. like, have some compassion for the singles, yknow ?! his friends tell him to just drop it.

what they don’t know is the reason he kisses you every morning is to guess which flavor your lipgloss is. and he’s a little too proud when he gets it right.

[bobateababe]

Sukuna purposely lets you win in board games. He pretends to be all ancient and dumb about the modern world, but in reality he's smarter than he appears.

He loves seeing the prideful look on your face when you insert a chip into the slot of connect 4. The way you pump your fist in the air and get cocky whenever he loses has his dick standing straight up. He just loves seeing his baby win.

"Ha!" you shout. "I win again! see that? 4-0. See Suku?" You stop and look at Sukuna, expecting to see an expression of disappointment on his face. Instead, he sits there cross legged on the floor, with his chin resting in his hand as he love sickly smirks at you, looking deep in your eyes and admiring the way your features tighten and become fiery the heat of your little victory.

"I suppose you did win my goddess"

[xiao-come-home]

Hear me out. Boothill is absolutely obsessed with physical touch and WILL always have an arm around your waist. He will shamelessly kiss you in front of others if anyone dares to flirt with you in his presence (he promised not to shoot anyone anymore). He WILL slap your ass if you walk past him and smirk with his arms crossed when you look back at him. Why? He knows you can't really slap his ass back (this one might hurt), but you're very welcome to try, he won't stop you. Will pull your chin up with his fingers and kiss you whenever he wants. Boothill will bite you on purpose with his sharp teeth to mark you, only to kiss the purple spots better, so you can melt under his touch. Boothill thinks the sidewalk rule is very important - that's why he pushes other people on the road, so you can have more space to walk, while holding your hand. He pulls you towards him so you hit his firm, metal chest with yours while he laughs, cupping your face roughly and gently kissing your cheek. He wants you to pull on his hair when you kiss, so you can get goosebumps when he groans into your mouth and feel his cold fingers caress your soft skin further down.

PSST! boothill relationship headcanons and more thirst here!

[secrectlyicky]

big bad rafe who's off in another country, "fixing things" as he told you before he left. you're left all alone in the big house, worrying about him every other second. hanging onto everytime your phone rang, hoping it was him.

until you hear the front door open late at night, sitting up and your heart racing knowing rafe had the alarm system set and working before he left. so why didn't it go off? pulling the blankets up to your chest as the footsteps get closer.

your eyes widening and watery when he pushes the door open. nearly tripping over your feet as you scramble towards him. his arms immediately wrap around your shaky frame, quiet sobs leaving you.

"i know, i know baby, i'm back." he mutters softly, his hand brushing over your hair. soft 'i missed you's' whispered as he picks you up, carrying you back to your shared bed. the two of you as close as possible with your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. completely unaware of the things he's done, but to be fair even if he told you, you wouldn't care.

[cute-sucker]

rafe would always be tugging you closer to him during parties when you got a little too excited. you could always count on him to keep you close, but at times you noticed he got a bit territorial. it was times when your tube top is close to falling, hair messed up while you smiled up at rafe. he'd always pull you closer, running a hand on your messed up hair, before giving you a quick peck. usually rafe was amused, but you could sense today wasn't that day.

"hey, baby?"

you giggled at the endearment. he barely called you anything like that infront of others, his voice gentle and a bit teasing. but you could see a sneaking look of possessiveness when rafe gripped you closer. you couldn't be bothered now, really you embraced it being so close to him.

"i missed you," you murmured sweetly, leaning into his warmth.

"yea?" rafe'd muse at you again, a smirk on his face before giving you a pat on the ass as you jumped up and down. you nodded enthusiastically, your head bopping up and down, panting.

it was only when you seemed to get a little drowsy, when he pulled you closer again. still, his mouth was a firm line as he watched you carefully as if scanning the area. his eyes would go a bit darker, large arms on your waist.

"settle down."

[joelmillermylove]

I need a Joel Miller type of man, that is maybe a little too protective over me. He has just a hint of silver in his hair, the cutest smile, broad shoulders and smells like leather, whiskey and oak. He’s grumpy and intimidating but with me he’s sweet and gentle. That’s what I want.

[shellxrls]

MDNI | 18+ content cw: puppy!reader, dirty talk, daddy kink, explicit sexual content - unprotected PinV

rafe is a good boyfriend; strong, in control, and most importantly he knows things. rafe knows that you’ll start cursing when you’re about to cum, he knows that when he finally hits that squishy spot inside of you he’ll feel your long glossy nails raking down his back, and above all he knows that you're a simple pup who just needs good fuck to calm herself down.

and at present moment, he was executing just that. he had you wrapped up in a mean cocoon of strength, strong arms flexing lazily by your ears and growing damp with sweat — the sheen so alluring that you decide to stick out your tongue in a fucked out haze and mouth at the bulging muscle.

“daddy fucks you reallll good doesn’t he princess… stickin’ your tongue out like a damn dog all for me,” rafe grunts into your ear, mouthing at the shell until his hot breath makes you go clammy, tummy clenching as your pussy sucks him in.

rafe pulls back when the frequency of your pants increases, easing the weight on your chest and leaning back to display his glistening chest in a way that forces a mournful noise out of you, pussy weeping in tandem, he watches his dick pummel in and out of you all creamy and fluid.

you ogle as his stomach grows tense, shoulders heaving to display sinewy layers of muscle, all tell-tale signs of his culmination to orgasm — and then he moves his hand to roughly slap at your clit, and it hits you faster than you would’ve expected.

you weep, pushing at the mattress and squirming away while rafe lifts up the hood of your clit, spitting directly on it and pinching the bud, “who’s your daddy baby ? c’mon i know it’s somewhere in that little puppy brain of yours,” he demands, smirk growing despite his tenured rigidity.

knowing he wouldn’t let you cum without confirmation, you struggle out a muffled and tearful ‘rafe’.

“uh uh, need to actually hear it,” he repeats.

“mmfffine, you rafe ‘s you,” you slur belligerently, scraping at his chest when he sinks in for a final few thrusts, squeezing you eyes shut albeit from a few stray tears while you finally allow yourself to cum.

rafe follows shortly after, ‘fuckin’knewit’ followed by a string of littered curses until he stills inside you still balls deep, resting gently so his chin lay on your head, giving you the opportunity to suck and bite at his clavicle.

“damn puppy, always bitin’ aren’t you,” he groans, pulling him off much to your bereavement and going to get himself cleaned off before he helps you.

[3amfanfiction]

So Simon Riley is THE strict daddy dom and he flourishes in that role. There’s no one made for it quite like him.

But our baby is traumatized, folks.

He’s seen things that no one would ever want to have seen. And that leaves scars. And with how he treats you in the bedroom (with your enthusiastic consent) sometimes his feelings will come forward in an unexpected way.

You were both breathing heavily, coming down from an intense session, neither of you able to move quite yet in order to get cleaned up.

After a minute you were once more in your body and you look over to Simon to check in. He’s normally up before you, getting the washcloth, holding a cup of water for you to drink, soft touches brushing over any lingering marks, sweet words being murmured.

To your surprise he’s still in the same position, breath continuing slightly too fast to be normal. Simon? Hesitantly, your hand stretches across the bed to rest your fingertips on his wrist, your touch as soft as possible.

You know for sure something is wrong when he pulls back from your touch, as if ashamed.

Simon, sweetheart, is everything okay? When there’s no response you switch tactics. Scooting as close as you dared while still not touching him, you begin to talk.

‘You did so great for me baby and no one is mad at you. You were absolutely perfect.’ ‘You made me feel so good and gave me exactly what i wanted.’ ‘You’re so good to me sweetheart. You’re SO good.’ ‘Can i touch you?’

When he finally nods, his breathing becoming steadier as you ramble soothing affirmations, you don’t waste any time before placing your hand gently on his wrist. You start stoking back and forth, dragging your fingers and palm along his forearm.

There we go, love. Everything is gonna be okay. I loved every part of that and i love every part of you okay?

When he finally moves its to pull you to his chest, your face tucked into his shoulder before he rolls over you, cocooning you in his arms, sandwiched between his body and the bed. His arms tighten around you before he lets out a shaky breath and settles in for the next little bit, still focusing on your soothing words and your hands stroking his back softly.

He’s so strong for you, all the time. And every once in a while you get to be strong for him, too.

Next || Story Repository

[jamdoughnutmagician]

thinking about making out with Steve. If it's one thing Steve loves is kissing you. The way his lips slot so perfectly against yours. He revels in the soft little sighing moan you let out as he pulls you close into his lap. His big hands are roving over every inch of your body until they find their home, one on the curve of your hip, the other tucked into your hair, cradling your head. He tugs your bottom lip between his teeth oh so playfully before his tongue slips between your lips. It's gentle and passionate, but it's also commanding and exciting. You would be inclined to believe that in kissing you like this he had an ulterior motive in mind, and maybe he did, but as you pull away from his pink lips for a brief moment you can't help but smile at the man you see before you.

Messy hair and flushed, freckled cheeks. Soft hazel brown eyes that sparkle when they look at you.

"I love you, Honey. Could kiss you forever and it still wouldn't be enough."

[mikkomacko]

Mob Movember

Mob Boss Nico x reader

A/n: just a little something inspired by the diva pictured above x

~~~~~~~

“So that’s like gonna be a thing now?”

Nico’s eyebrows pinch together, eyes finding yours in the bathroom mirror and he pauses, razor half way to his face and warm water running from the faucet.

“What do you mean?”

You shrug and he blinks, looking back at his reflection and biting his bottom lip to pull it taut. Then he’s dragging his razor over a smear of shaving cream on his chin, dipping the razor back into the sink to rinse it.

“You shaved a lot this week,” you decide to say, “and yet you always skip the space above your lip.”

Nico bristles at that, a petulant pout glaring at you through the mirror and you try not to laugh at him after indirectly insulting his mustache. It’s not that you hate it per se, it just looks different on him. He’s still cute, you’ll give him that. It’s impossible for him to ever not be attractive, but the mustache doesn’t have the same sexy appeal his beard does.

“Didn’t know I had to explain the concept of a mustache to you.”

“Ouch,” you hold a hand over your heart. “Mean and mustache-y.”

A sigh of annoyance huffs out of his nose, and he shakes his head just once before going back to cleaning up his jawline. “Go away,” he says, but you linger a minute longer to watch him finish shaving, eyes following the bend of his waist when he leans over to rinse off any left over bits of shaving cream.

Giving yourself a moment to appreciate his ass in those light blue jeans he wears all the time, you wonder off before he can look back in the mirror and still see you there.

~~~~

“Not you too!”

Timo frowns, looking around curiously as he slides into the passenger seat. He’s wearing an overly thick puffy coat and those stupid 5 inch inseam shorts from Lululemon that all the boys except Nico wear (much to your dismay) and you were gonna tease him about whether he’s hot or cold but the sight of his face has changed your plans.

“What?” He closed the door, immediately warming his hands in front of the vents.

“Is there like a mustache epidemic going around? What is wrong with you and Nico?”

You saw Timo yesterday, and while he had more stubble than he usually does, you didn’t think he’d be shaving it off into a mustache too. It’s been three long days of trying to get Nico’s new look to grow on you and no matter how times you kiss him, feel the scratch of his freshly shaved cheeks, it’s still not the same. You don’t like the way it tickles your upper lip but not your chin, and you don’t really like the way that you can’t kiss his nose anymore without feeling it.

But you’re trying and it’s hard. Even harder now that your bestie has apparently jumped on the train too.

“You don’t like them?” He asks, not offended but curious. You side eye him, pulling away from the curb and making your way towards the yoga studio.

“Is that why Nico is pouting?” He laughs, clicking his seatbelt. He rubs at his lame excuse of a mustache and you mentally give Nico credit for that. At least he can actually grow a really nice one, not that you’re going to say that to Timo.

“He’s pouting?”

“Uh yeah,” he scoffs, “he’s moped every day this week, Sieges said they’ve been having to talk to clients and stuff because he gets moody right away.”

You cringe, feeling a little bad about the whole thing. You didn’t mean to make Nico feel bad or like you don’t like his mustache. Yeah you don’t love it, but he’s Nico -your Nico -and everything about him is always so beautiful.

“I may be struggling to enjoy it,” you explain hesitantly, “I just am not used to it and he’s never been a mustache guy. Maybe like a day or two but he always shaves.”

“Oof,” Timo laughs, “yeah you probably hurt his feelings. Literally his biggest flex is that you think he’s so pretty.”

Groaning painfully, you thump your head against the steering wheel before pouting up at the red light. You’ve always Nico to be a sensitive person, not in a bad way or anything. He’s just never hid or pushed down feelings when it came to you, and it physically makes you ache to think that your reaction to his new facial hair made him so insecure he didn’t want to tell you.

You’ve got some major Nico loving to make up for.

~~~~

Nico is sat in the Devils booth of The Rock, hunched over the scheduling iPad as the boys mill around the bar. Jesper and Jonas are actually working it looks like, Jonas holding a ladder that has the smaller of the two men perched at the top, Jesper screwing in a new security camera. He’s got Mercer and Alex stocking the bar, and you almost laugh at the overly straight and organized bottles on Mercer’s side compared to haphazardly placed ones on Alex’s.

The Hughes boys are doing something they’re probably not suppose to be doing on the upper level, no where to be seen but definitely heard.

Timo parts from you to go join Jesper and Jonas, who look like they could use it by the way Jesper is trembling on the top rung.

You approach the booth, setting the lunch you brought for Nico onto the table alongside your greens smoothie. He looks up at you when you drop your jacket into the seat, eyes following your movement when you slide in next to him.

“Hey,” he mumbles, and something melancholy settles in the air. A bittersweet smile tugs at your lips, your heart throbbing when you take in the dejected look in his big brown eyes and the way he’s pouting.

“Hi,” you greet, reaching up brush his hair away from his face. Then you hold his cheek, brushing your thumb over the scar on his cheekbone. “I brought you lunch.”

He doesn’t bother to look interested. “Thanks baby.”

“I like your mustache,” you say quietly, tenderly pressing your thumb into the hinge of his jaw where you know he gets headaches from clenching. Like its second nature he relaxes, melting into the feeling.

“No you don’t,” he insists, licking at his pouting lips. “S’fine-“

“I do, I do like it Nico. It’s just different and I was teasing because I’m not used to it.”

Nico blinks, fluttering those stupidly pretty eyelashes at you and then two dimples sink into his cheeks. “Yeah?”

Giggling, you cup the back of his head and draw him closer to you. “You know you’re always handsome, no matter what.” You kiss him before he can say anything else, smiling when his hair scratches at your cheeks and lip.

Nico hums, reaching around to grip your hip and pull you until you’re half sitting in his lap. Then he melts back into the booth, sighing contently.

“Would you two get a room, Jesus fuck.”

You peck Nico’s lips one more time for good measure before pulling back, curling into his side and he slips his arm around you.

Nico reaches for his food, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing. The Hughes brothers have made their way down the stairs, and Mercer and Alex have abandoned the bar in favor of crowding around you and Nico.

Which in itself is a little scary, but add the thin and scraggly mustaches they all have is even worse. Desperate for a distraction, you scramble to grab your juice and take a sip, casting a glance over at Nico who’s smirking proudly. He shares a knowing look with you.

“Why are you making that face?”

You look at Jack, forcing yourself to only look in his eyes as you clear your throat. “What face?”

He points an accusing finger at you. “That face, why are you laughing?”

“M’not.”

“You are, Holtz tell her she is.”

Alex looks around helplessly and you do giggle when you realize his poor mustache is nothing but peach fuzz. “Ok now she’s laughing.”

Steadying yourself, you force your smile down. “I love this new look you all have going on.”

Almost immediately they all groan, offended and outraged and you can’t even listen to them. Hunching over into Nico’s shoulder you cackle, tears springing up in your eyes and stomach aching.

You can feel him chuckle, one hand rubbing at your back to calm you down. Finally you peel yourself off of him, wiping at your wet eyes as the boys glare at you.

“Don’t be mean, it’s for a good cause.” Mercer defends.

“What cause?”

“Movember,” Jack states proudly, “it was Nico’s idea. Good cause and we all bond over our shared ‘staches.” He strokes over his lame excuse of a mustache and Luke cringes, cheeks tinting pink.

You look to Nico. “This was your doing?”

He looks utterly pleased with himself, shrugging nonchalantly but there’s a twinkle of mischief in his features. The sight makes you giddy. What has he been up to?

The other three boys wonder up behind the rest, and you cackle again at the blonde patch of hair on Jesper’s lip and the razor burn on Jonas’s chin. Offended, they frown at you.

“S’like our new tradition,” Jesper says but it sounds more like a question as he examines Nico.

Your boyfriend beams at you. “Like last year we did no nut November,” he explains, and you roll your eyes. You hated that stupid challenge between them, and if you recall correctly, they all did too.

“Yeah and you lost,” Timo mocks, glancing at you because you know all too well why Nico lost. And Nico knows too because you can’t for the life of you keep a secret from him.

“Hey you all cried to y/n to make me lose,” Nico argues, and Timo’s mouth drops open.

“Traitor!” Jesper gasps, pointing at you. “You weren’t supposed to tell him we came to you.”

“Hey the only loyalty I have is to him,” you jab your thumb in Nico’s direction. “And his dick.”

Nico’s smirk grows, shuffling in his seat as he accepts the compliment from you. “You all went crying to her about how dry November was making me mean. And that’s why I lost.”

“Should’ve known to never trust a temptress,” Jack mutters, glaring at you. Offended, you glare back.

“Well you can’t a grow a mustache,” you hiss, “in fact none of you can. That dirt smear on your lip looks like it took twenty years to grow Jack.”

He clutches his heart, offended and looks to Nico for help. Nico takes a sip of your smoothie, gesturing for them to leave. “M’on her side. Get back to work, all of you.”

They grumble, stalking away from the table and muttering to each other as they return to their assigned jobs for the day. Shuffling, you turn to Nico.

“You’re so mean for letting them walk around like that.” You giggle quietly, and Nico snickers.

“You should see the update selfies they’ve been taking,” he whispers, pleased with himself. “Think I’ll make a collage of them and hang them in the office before I tell them it was all a joke.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this was to get back at them for last year?”

He shrugs. “You were so fucking good to me after they whined last year that I wanted it to be a surprise. And was it a good one, or what?”

You laugh again, flashing back to seeing them all standing around you earlier, so proud of their matching mustaches.

“It’s kind of cute,” you mumble thoughtfully, laying your head on his shoulder. “They all wanted to be like you.”

Nico hums in agreement. Then he’s sliding the iPad to you. “Look this over, yeah? Make sure I’ve got the schedule and times right for Thanksgiving.”

He’s so sweet, you think, looking over the calendar he’s filled in. Even when he’s fucking around and embarassing the boys, he’s given them slack for almost the whole month. And he’s even written in the day off for Friday after Thanksgiving. Instead a big red heart is drawn on the day and in his perfectly slanted handwriting is written “Family Sleepover”.

“Looks good,” you agree, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “But the mustaches have to go by Thanksgiving. I am not having those in any photos.”

“Yes ma’am.”

[heavenbarnes]

there was something to be said about the fact older bf!simon made such a good house husband.

“i forgot my lunch :( ”

“forgot to make it or bring it?”

“both?”

“on my way”

because the next thing was your coworkers slowly raising their heads to the sound outside your office, a throaty rumbling of an engine right outside the doors.

not a car, motorcycle maybe? question affirmed when it revved twice.

they shot you confused looks when the sound made your ears prick up, a sweet smile on your face as you trotted out the front of the building.

behemoth of a man sat astride a motorcycle. his leathers added bulk but there was something about him that said he was big enough without them.

he watched you walk over as he raised the visor on his helmet, the black one with a ghostly image of a skull painted across it.

your coworkers pressed to the windows, trying their best to hide behind the curtains and potted plants but failing all the same.

the man pointed to his face as you got on tip toes to press a kiss to his nose through the balaclava he had under the helmet.

“don’t make it a late one, alright?”

“yessir”

as you gave him a haphazard salute, he reached behind to give you a pat on the backside before he stood to retrieve the brown paper bag he’d been carrying.

lunch in hand, you lean in to press a kiss to the visor he’d just lowered- right on top of the lipstick print that sat in the corner of it.

the print that looked a lot like your lips.

the helmet never leaves the back of you as you walk towards the office, your coworkers scrambling to not get caught staring.

you didn’t mind, just smiled as you reached into your lunch bag and retrieved a sandwich. the one that was cut perfectly into the shape of a heart.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

it sounds stupid, but katsuki absolutely hates it when you cross your arms. it’s like you’re closing yourself off from him and he doesn’t like it. not one bit. so yeah, even if you’re arguing and he’s mad at you. he gives himself a second to cool down and with a huff he grips your arms and pulls them apart. he doesn’t keep ahold of them, he’s still mad. but he just. pulls them away from your chest and rips loose the muscles that were once locked in place.

“don’t fuckin’ do that.” he grumbles, before crossing his own arms seconds later.

[capquinn]

Sunday | Q. Hughes

summary: A lazy Sunday morning... pairing: reader x quinn hughes content: nothing but tooth rotting fluff word count: 1k ↪masterlist

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“You’re staring,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little raspy from sleep, but there’s a hint of amusement in it.

A smile tugs at your lips as your fingers brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. “Just admiring."

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The morning light slips through the blinds, casting soft, golden stripes across the room. It dances on the walls, wrapping you both in a warm, quiet glow. It’s the kind of light that only comes in the last days of summer, when the air feels just a bit cooler in the mornings, but the days still stretch long into the evening. There’s something almost ethereal about the way it floods the space, filling every corner with a peaceful stillness.

You’re both wrapped in the tangled mess of white sheets, limbs entwined. Quinn's chest rises and falls in a slow, steady rhythm, the gentle warmth of his skin brushing against yours. The world beyond the window might as well not exist; here, in the cocoon of soft linens and golden light, it’s just the two of you, wrapped in the last days of lazy summer, sheltered from the chaos of life outside.

You glance up at Quinn, his face half-buried in the pillow, hair slightly tousled and falling in soft strands across his forehead. The sunlight dances on his face, illuminating the faint freckles scattered across his nose. His expression is soft, radiating the kind of peacefulness that only comes when you know you don’t have to be anywhere else but here. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, lashes casting gentle shadows on his cheeks, but there’s a contentedness in the way he looks at you and a lazy, easy smile playing at the corners of his lips that makes your heart flutter.

You shift a little closer, pressing your cheek against the pillow and propping yourself up slightly on your elbow. Your hand moves instinctively, fingers tracing the outline of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of stubble that’s grown in over the weekend. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed briefly before opening again, meeting yours in that sleepy, comfortable silence.

“You’re staring,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little raspy from sleep, but there’s a hint of amusement in it.

A smile tugs at your lips as your fingers brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. “Just admiring."

His brows quirk, but he doesn’t say anything, just watches you with a curious gaze. The warmth of his eyes pulls you in like it always does, the mix of green and hazel almost impossible to decipher. They’re mesmerizing... The way the morning light catches in his irises, turning the hues of green and hazel into something almost magical. They shift with the light, as if the exact colour of them depends on where you’re standing, or how close you are.

Luckily, you’re the only one who gets to see them this closely.

That thought makes your heart swell. This quiet intimacy between the two of you, tucked away from the world in the soft glow of the morning. His eyes, those incredible, ever-changing eyes, are just for you in this moment. A warmth blooms in your chest, a sense of comfort and belonging that’s almost overwhelming in its simplicity.

“You have such pretty eyes,” you say softly, the words slipping out without much thought.

A faint blush creeps across Quinn’s cheeks, and he shifts slightly under the covers, glancing away for just a second. His reaction is almost bashful, as if no one’s ever said something like that to him before.

Quinn opens his mouth to respond, but then closes it again, a soft chuckle escaping him instead. His cheeks flush a deeper pink, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“Stop,” he mumbles, his voice muffled, laced with that shy, nervous laughter. His arms tighten around you, pulling you closer until you’re pressed up against him.

You laugh lightly, brushing your fingers through his messy hair as you feel the heat of embarrassment radiating off him. “I’m serious,” you whisper, leaning in just a little, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “They’re like... impossible to figure out. Sometimes they look green, sometimes hazel... So pretty.”

He groans softly in protest, his face still buried against your neck. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m really not,” you insist, your voice playful, trying to keep the moment light. You feel the soft rumble of his laughter against your chest, his body vibrating with the sound. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

His breath hitches slightly at the words, and for a moment, he just stays there, his face hidden in the curve of your neck, as if he’s too shy to even look at you. But then he shifts, lifting his head just enough to press a soft kiss against your collarbone. His lips linger there for a second longer than usual, his lips warm and tender against your skin, as if he’s gathering the courage to speak.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before,” he admits quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smile, your heart swelling at the softness of his confession. “Well, then they’ve clearly never looked at you the way I do.”

He glances up at you finally, his eyes catching the light again, and for a second, neither of you say anything. There’s no need to. The moment is so simple, so mundane in the grand scheme of things, and yet it feels like the most intimate thing in the world. Just you, him, and the quiet of a lazy summer morning.

Quinn’s lips curve into a small, shy smile, his face still flushed as he leans down to press his forehead against yours. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you murmur back, your fingers brushing lightly over his arm. “But I’m right.”

He laughs again, this time a little more freely, and pulls you closer into him until your legs are tangled together beneath the sheets once more. There’s no rush to move, no urgency to do anything but just be. You have this one last weekend together before everything picks up again — work, hockey, life — and for now, that’s more than enough.

[lomlkenji]

༊*·˚ pretty boy | peter parker

main masterlist

for you, peter is the literally definition of pretty. his big brown puppy eyes and his perfectly structured face, his lean but muscular built, his cute little pout when you don’t give him a kiss before he goes patrolling.

he is just so so very pretty.

you don't know know how long you have been staring at him for, but he didn't seem to notice. too busy focusing on his science project, and his concentration is very hot.

his long slender fingers moving carefully and slowly to put the pieces together and your attention only zeroed on them. such, such pretty hands.

the weight of your stare was starting to make peter nervous. peter gets flustered very easily. and with you? you didn't even have to try.

peter suddenly put down the components for his project and turned to you, “i know i'm hot but can you please stop staring at me like that?” he mumbled, as a soft blush appear on his face. his tone was confident but you can sense his nervousness.

he tried focusing on his project again as you chuckled, the kind of chuckle that sends tingles all over peter's body, “sorry pete, but you are just so very pretty.”

wow. okay he didn't expect that.

peter chocked on his saliva, his body hot all over, nearly dropping the pieces of his homework.

“baby, you can't just say things like that.” he looked at you, eyes wide and soft. and it makes you grin.

“it's the truth.” you shrugged, “you're my pretty boy.” you know you're testing his limits, but it was fun teasing peter.

peter's mind malfunctioned. he's trying to ignore you, but the way you said my pretty boy is replaying over and over in his head.

“damn it.” he quietly swore, putting down whatever left of his project and turning to you.

your eyebrows rose in a teasing manner as a smirk finds its way to your face. “what?” you innocently asked, but you know exactly what you're doing, and he knows it too.

peter chuckled as he walks to where your laying at the bed. the sound send a shiver up your spine and now you're the one who's nervous.

he leaned closer to you, you could feel his breath on your lips as you both took a moment to admire each other. peter was staring at your eyes to your nose and your soft lips, bringing his eyes to connect with yours again and you could feel your stomach doing flips.

“and you're my pretty baby.” he whispered softly before cutting off a whine that rose up your throat with his lips.

his lips were a little chapped, but it fits your perfectly. your hands move to tangle on his hair, giving it a little pull making peter groan into the kiss. he leaned back, his warm hands move to find comfort on your waist as he brings you onto his lap.

peter felt like his heart was about to burst. every single sense of his is override and all he can focus on is you. you. you.

his home.

reblog for a kiss <3