#kiss kiss for all<33< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[leeyacy]

I srsly heart it when ppl reblog and comment on my post or tag me,like i would keep reading it back and think 24/7 abt it,makes me feel loved😭💕i swear you guys are so funny and sweet and talented af that i just wanna smooch and gives u lots of hugs/plat jajajajja (this is so cringe but is how i express my feelings so😔)

@dumbponyboykinnie @coquettejohnny @cartoonist1004 @emzdrawss @d1sheclectic @larussobitme @cherryscvre @zerolovessoup @rileyh20 @kaseyfied @vampirasita and others !!

[ur-ghostgirl]

pspspsss mutuals 2 make porn with pspsps

[milkamel]

Babyboy.

Consider this an apology for making him sob in the last post. Here he is happy and content <3 (I can't promise that I won't do it again) Silly little guy I want to squish him like a stress toy.

Cross belongs to jakei

[zuiz41]

Guess the one who instinctively kissed his best friend's lips earlier this morning and is currently wishing to be swallowed by the earth. 😏

(it's a hard guess)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

YOU DRINK YOUR COFFEE BLACK AND WE ARE AFRAID OF EACH OTHER ; SHOKO IEIRI

synopsis; shoko makes you a morning cup of coffee; turns out she’s not very good at that, but it’s the thought that counts.

word count; 4.2k

contents; shoko ieiri/reader, gn!reader (but written w a fem!reader in mind), fluff fluff fluff!!, just normal morning shenanigans at the ieiri household, implied stsg (my brand), shoko can be a girlfailure. as a treat, reader is absolutely whipped (and so am i)

a/n; been writing too much gojo n geto lately. neglecting my wife :((((((( let it be known that i am a shoko stan first human second. this one is for my wlws pls eat up!!!!

you wake up to the sound of your girlfriend’s voice.

melodic and soft, low and saccharine; almost like she’s coaxing you out of hiding. a sound so lovely you wish you could drown in it, laced together with a distinctly raspy tilt, one you can only attribute to the copious amounts of cigarettes she smoked back in high school. a leftover residue, bittersweet memories ghosting her lips — one that gets you a little bit weak in the knees.

in the mornings, it’s particularly prominent, a little intoxicating. manifesting itself as a shiver down your spine, a jolt of your heartbeat, a flush on your skin for every word that she speaks. it’s enough to have you slipping from sleep’s embrace, carried back into the cradle of reality.

why you notice her voice first, and not the smell of something burning — or the sound of insistent beeping — is honestly beyond you. 

it doesn’t take long for your sleepy brain to react, however, a pang of anxiety rushing through your slumbering veins. hurriedly stirring you awake. abrupting your dreamlike, drowsy state, tangled up in silken sheets with your neck smudged by lipstick marks; an alluring red, one shoko typically favors when she’s going out for a drink. coming home just a tiny bit tipsy, affectionate and giggly.

and when your eyelids finally flutter open, your mind melting into the motion of the waking world, you shoot up in a sudden bout of panic.

because fuck, you belatedly, groggily realize — that’s the fucking fire alarm.

and shoko is spewing curses, from afar, loud enough that you can hear it even through the fog of fatigue that clouds your brain. a raspy string of words that you don’t quite catch, but they’re enough to have you scrambling out of bed, nearly bumping into the doorframe as you kick the blanket off your legs.

”what happened?” you croak out, chest heaving a little, having stumbled into the smoke-filled kitchen. disgruntled, reeling with the aftermath of your deep slumber, cold air nipping at your bare skin. the balcony door is open, and the smell of rain invades your apartment.

when you look out the window, all you see is a gray sky, blanketed by a thick coating of wool. smothered by clouds, not a single ray of sunlight slipping through the cracks. the world smells dewy and sweet, asphalt and flowers melting into a nostalgic fragrance, one that reminds you a bit of high school smoke breaks — huddling under the slide at the nearest playground, watching a pretty girl wrap her lips around a cigarette, exhaling smoke just for it to melt into the pouring rain.

one that reminds you a bit of the woman right in front of you, balancing on a chair and stretching her goosebump-ridden arms towards the ceiling, wearing nothing but a lacey bra and a pair of unbuttoned jeans. messy hair that cascades down her back, brows furrowed, eyes simmering with irritation — before flitting over to meet your own.

shoko blinks. then sighs. ”you woke up?” she mutters, and you try not to shiver when the tremor of her voice deepens, morning-fatigue seeping into the syllables. “fuck. sorry, i —”

she stumbles a little, shifting her weight from one foot to another, and you take a step forward. on instinct, as if getting ready to cushion her fall. ready to be of service, in any way you can.

”don’t worry,” she fumbles with the fire alarm, clicking her tongue. nails scraping against plastic. “it’s fine, i just need to — there we go.” 

finally, the beeping stops. and your shoulders relax, immediately, the tight little ball inside your chest untangling. with a deep inhale, the fragrance of espresso and smoke fills your nostrils, and a sense of calm washes over you. rooting your feet to the floor. 

shoko settles down, too, seating herself on the wooden chair. a huff slipping from her lips. they’re smudged, a blurry red she still hasn’t found the energy to wipe away. 

bringing a hand up to card through her hair, lithe fingers in between her messy auburn locks, she exhales. a blend between fatigue and relief.

”god. i need a cig.”

a moment passes. she raises her head, and sees the sleepy little pout playing at your lips — her eyes softening. blooming with something fond. giving you a smile, tired, small. but reassuring. 

”i’m just kidding, love,” she chuckles. “relax.”

”don’t joke about that,” you frown, rubbing the sleep from your weary eyes. stifling a tiny yawn. ”.. took me so long to get you to quit.”

(sometimes you can still see the smoke leave her lungs when she exhales.)

shoko keeps smiling, but doesn’t say anything else. the pitter patter of rain against your balcony railing fills the silence of the kitchen, still brimming with a light layer of smoke, slowly dwindling. cold air drawing it out. clad only in one of suguru’s old t-shirts, you shiver, and shoko seems to notice.

“good morning,” she coaxes, opening her arms slightly — and you move forward, a moth to a flame. without thinking. “sorry for waking you.”

she wraps her arms around your waist, attaching her jaw to the curve of your shoulder, and you melt into the embrace. leaning close, to tuck yourself into her neck. she smells like lavender shampoo. “‘s fine,” you mumble, a yawn muffled into her collarbone. “what happened? are you okay?”

when her plump lips press against the sensitive skin of your neck, right next to one of the kiss marks she left there last night, you can’t help but shiver again. she must feel it, because you can hear the smile she’s trying to bite back in her voice when she answers.

“mm,” she hums, a gravelly noise that makes your throat clog up a little. “just burned something, it’s fine. don’t worry.”

tentatively, you take a step back. just to see her. gazing down at her, into her hazel eyes, the fading crescents beneath them. not as dark as they used to be, not as heavy with lost sleep.

shoko is gorgeous. always, every single day, but you think she’s particularly breathtaking like this. when it’s early, and she’s groggy and a little disheveled, eyes weary and lipstick smudged — bra strap close to slipping off her shoulder, black lace against pale skin, moles littering her forearms and chest like star clusters. oversized jeans that expose the curve of her waist, the fat of her hips, and you don’t notice how intently you’re staring until shoko’s raspy voice reaches your burning ears.

“eyes up here, baby.”

you do as you’re told, and she stifles a chuckle. eyes rich with amusement. you try not to blush.

“sorry.” you chew at the inside of your cheek. eyes trailing to the houseplants by the windowsill. “.. you’re just so pretty.”

shoko tilts her head, an exasperated little breath rolling off her tongue. almost a coo. she’s incapable of blushing; but if she wasn’t, you’re sure she'd blush. 

“thanks.” her touch is light, fingertips trailing down the expanse of your arm. “you are, too. red is a good colour on you.”

you blink. shoko’s eyes are crinkled at the edges, soft lines of crows’ feet, and you huff when you realize she’s talking about the marks on your neck. suddenly a little self-conscious, you bring a hand up to rub at the skin — as if hoping to wipe them away. you doubt it works. shoko just breathes out an airy chuckle, getting up from her seat.

she looks tired, still. stretching her limbs out, sleepily, blinking drowsily.

and it’s odd, you think. that she got up this early, that she didn’t cling to you and make you stay with her in bed like she usually does. you don’t know anyone who loves sleeping in more than shoko does. especially after a night out.

so it’s strange. very strange.

“hey, sho.”

“hm?”

you tilt your head. “why are you up this early, anyway?”

she blinks, and then glances at the clock on the wall. ticking idly, counting down. when she looks back at you, she’s got a single eyebrow raised. “it’s not really early.”

“for you it is,” you quip, something resembling a grin tugging at your lips. and she rolls her eyes, smiling, before linking her arm with yours. bringing you to the stove.

“i was, uh —“ a pause. she does a little cough under her breath, clearing her throat. “trying to make coffee.”

silently, you look at the mess in front of you; what used to be your squeaky-clean stovetop, now stained with a muddy, rusty residue. an unassuming coffee pot sits to the side, having seemingly boiled over, smoke still drifting up into the air.

shoko cringes, a little, before a wry smile makes its way to her lips. ”it was…” she clicks her tongue. sighing softly. ”an attempt.”

”… wait.” you turn to look at her, dubiously, and she avoids your gaze. ”that’s what you burned? coffee?” still no answer. a tiny smile tugs at your lips, and you can’t help it if your voice comes out sounding a little teasing. ”how is that even possible?”

”look,” shoko exhales, heavy. ”i don’t know, okay? i think it was the coffee grounds, or something. i look away for one second, and it’s just —”

a little giggle slips from your lips, and shoko shoots you a glare. mostly harmless, but she untangles her arm from your own. ”sorry, it’s just —” you apologize, failing to hide your amusement. ”why didn’t you just use the espresso machine, honey?”

she bites her lip, and you think she might be just a little embarrassed. averting her gaze, briefly flitting towards the machine in question. ”… i didn’t know how to use it,” she mutters. ”i’ve seen you do it, obviously, but i never paid attention to the steps.”

a smile graces your lips. “it’s not that complicated once you know how it works,” you nudge her arm with your elbow. ”it just looks that way.”

she hums. a click of her tongue, as she adjusts her bra strap. ”well, anyway. i tried. so.”

”right.” you try to stifle a grin, to no avail. ”so… you burned your coffee.”

”and woke you up.” she grins, herself, just a tiny bit self-deprecating. but pretty, always, hair falling over her eyes when she tilts her head. ”a mess, aren’t i?”

”not at all.”

shoko looks at you, and your eyes meet hers. unflinchingly. tired irises falling into the gentle hue of your own, trickling down to the curve of your lips. there’s an honesty to your voice that she’s never quite been able to deal with. 

(love, she thinks. a kind of love she finds somewhat hard to stomach. a sea of acceptance that she fears she’ll eventually drown in.)

before she can properly fall into a morning spiral, you stretch your neck a bit, idly, and she gets a good look at the red marks littering your skin. the way your pulse beats at the base of your throat. tender, slight, a mantra she’s grown just a little bit addicted to. 

”why, though?” you hum, and shoko blinks. snapped out of her thoughts, and back into reality. back into you, the faux pout on your lips. playful, but a little confused. ”i thought i was the coffee brewer of this relationship…” 

and it’s true. you’ve been making shoko’s morning cups of coffee for a while, now, even before you moved in together. she likes it black, sometimes with a drop of cream, sometimes with a cube of sugar. never both. you think it’s very like her, to tiptoe that line between bitter and sweet — never entirely giving in to one or the other. there’s a balance to shoko, something stable. something for you to hold on to, a bitter tinge or syrupy taste that always leaves you yearning for more.

truthfully, your coffee brewing skills aren’t anything special. but it makes shoko happy, to wake up and stumble into the kitchen, being able to hug your back. being handed a cup of fresh coffee. sipping from it in silence, muttering out a groggy good morning that makes your heart flutter.

(to you, it’s precious. that lilt of her voice, that bittersweet tinge. the dearest thing in the world.)

plump bottom lip trapped between her teeth, shoko furrows her brows. ever so slightly. nails tapping at the edge of the kitchen counter, a series of satisfying clicks against the marble. “… well.” 

she clears her throat, but doesn’t say anything else. a moment passes. you try to find the answer in the curve of her lips, the crease of her brow, in the depths of her eyes — but you don’t succeed.

something discomforting settles in the bottom of your throat. almost uncertain, maybe a bit anxious. sheepish, as your tired mind spins in circles. parting your lips. hesitant.

“do you… not like the way i make it?” there’s a dejected tilt to your voice when it spills out, one that makes you feel a little silly. so you smile, or try to, eyes trailing towards the windows; you note that the rain has grown heavier. “i can change how —“

“what?” shoko cuts you off. “no. no, of course not — your coffee’s perfect. honestly.”

again, your eyes meet. and again, shoko seems to be struggling with finding the right words. or maybe she’s struggling to voice them.

“i just… haah.” she brings a hand up to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. you just watch, silent, hungry to hear the thoughts she’s not letting you in on.

a beat. again, the sound of the rain against steel railings, the scent of honeydew and concrete. espresso-flavored smoke, almost entirely faded, leaving only cold air to nip at your thighs. 

and again, as always, inevitably, your eyes are fixed on shoko — a moth to her flame. helpless to the cinders that ghost at your skin whenever she looks at you. a certain contemplation swims inside her eyes, simmering beneath the surface, as she chews gently at the plush of her lips. before turning to face you.

you can only blink. but shoko finally speaks, clearing her throat in a way that strikes you as rather sheepish.

“well — you’re always the one doing all the work. aren’t you?” her voice trickles out into the air, low and saccharine, a blanket pulled over your shoulders. so soft you hold your breath and strain your ears, just to make sure you hear it. “i guess i figured… i don’t know.”

shoko pauses, again, and you can almost delude yourself into thinking there’s a cherry red tint to the tips of her ears. when she parts her lips, that usually carefree voice of hers sounds almost meek. almost, but not quite. more like unsure. embarrassed?

another moment passes, entirely silent. shoko swallows her pride.

“.. satoru always brags about suguru making him those fucked up sugary drinks he likes,“ she mumbles. turning around, to rest her back against the counter, looking out at the downpour. “says it makes him feel so loved. or whatnot. so i just —“ 

she waves her hand, haphazardly. 

“you know.“

a beat. then another. you can physically feel your lips part, a kind of surprise weaving itself into the contours of your face. 

and when you finally speak, your voice comes out a little garbled, scrambling for the right words. not sure if you should feel deeply amused, or just a tiny bit horrified. “wait. you’re saying you…” a moment passes. silent, slow, and all you can do is blink owlishly. in disbelief.

“… got inspired by suguru?”

shoko groans, deep and gravelly, almost comically agonized. covering her face with her pretty hands. “don’t say it,” she pleads, “you’re making it sound as dumb as it is.”

a little giggle slips from your lips. accidental, but she still shoots you a displeased look, huffing under her breath. crossing her arms just to tap at her forearm with her nimble fingers. frowning.

“don’t laugh at me.”

“sorry,” you search for her gaze, but she keeps looking ahead. so stubborn. “i don’t mean to, ‘s just — not very like you, y’know?”

shoko exhales. nearly a huff, but not quite. and you think she must be embarrassed, gnawing at her lip like that, fingers eagerly searching for something to fidget with. it makes you soften, impeccably, the blood inside your veins warming up beneath your skin. stirring you, coaxing you into soothing her. your very own heartbeat seems to be a little enamored with shoko ieiri.

”i appreciate the thought,” you smile. a tender tone, sincere. lingering with amusement. “really. but let’s not base our entire relationship around satoru and suguru of all people, alright?”

and again, she sighs. brittle, a little fatigued. brows scrunching together. ”look, i —”

a pause. she gnaws at her plump bottom lip, eyelashes fluttering like a battered heartbeat. her voice comes out sounding soft, all duvet pillows and fresh lavender, a lilt that anchors you to earth. sweet words. so honest it makes your breath hitch.

”i want to take care of you.”

and this time, you’re the flustered one. burning under her gaze, feeling a heat blossom on your skin. feeling the fervent pitter patter of your heartbeat, as her pretty eyes look into yours. a nice mocha brown. 

but even with the fresh embarrassment trickling through your veins, you find it in you to speak. desperate, maybe, to cross the distance between you — even when it borders on non-existent. desperate to feel your heartbeats synchronize, figuratively or literally. to stitch them together.

“i want to take care of you, too,” you echo, looking down at the floor. and then back at your girlfriend. hesitant, a tad shy. but sincere.

a sincerity so palpable it makes shoko feel a little jealous. 

(sometimes, she finds herself wanting to put a hand inside your chest. dig around your organs, run her fingertips down every single one, until she finds what she's looking for. that miraculous something that makes you stick around, that makes you so frighteningly easy to love. that makes her want to safeguard you so terribly.)

”then let’s take care of each other,” she breathes, a small smile slipping into the curve of her lips. reaching out to brush against your knuckle, weave your fingers together. delicate. 

she clears her throat. “… i guess.” 

and you can’t help but smile. somewhat cheeky, a little teasing. “ah,” your eyes crinkle, and you stifle a coo. “did that embarrass you?”

a sharp little scoff. shoko gives you a lazy grin, paired with a soft roll of her eyes. brushing her thumb across your knuckles, even still. “oh, shut up.”

the world seems to still, ever so slightly, as you look into each other’s eyes. like everything else is just background noise, from the pitter patter of the rain to the fading smell of coffee all around you. shoko looks at you like she’s trying to see inside your brain, see what makes you tick, see you for what you are.

and when she eventually leans in for a kiss, you’re pliant. expectant. her lips against yours, breathing you in, as soft as ever. like she’s afraid of getting too greedy. she tastes like nectar and cosmetics.

“give me some time,” she says, after pulling back. hands on your waist, squeezing softly. “i’ll make you another cup right now.”

”sure you don’t want me to do it?” you ask. “i don’t mind.”

another little scoff. offended. ”look, i’m not incompetent, okay? i’m just not used to it.” she untangles herself from you, warmth slipping away. you will yourself not to chase it. “just stand there and look pretty for me.”

and she smiles, when those words make you giggle, infected by your sleepy joy. something soft and silky blooms inside her ribcage, mirrored by the glimmer in your eyes when you intertwine your hands again. fingertips brushing against each other, delicate, a love that’s handled with care.

”.. i like making you coffee,” you whisper after a beat. smiling. under your breath, like you’re telling her a secret. ”it makes me happy.”

a moment passes. something in shoko’s bones still, for a second, enough for you to notice. and her eyes fill with a kind of hesitance. doubt, maybe. or fear.

when shoko opens up to you, it’s always like this. sleepy, rainy days, or tipsy afternoons. in no more than a whisper, a fragile breath, the ghost of a confession. when you can feel her heartbeat, one finger on her wrist, listening to the rhythm of her pulse. intimate. a little clumsy, but…

”i just don’t want you to spend too much of yourself on me.”

the words are spoken in passing, almost casually, a lighthearted kind of resignation. a hungry ghost. one that follows her, follows you. suguru and satoru, too. there’s a lump in her throat, you can tell, something that makes it a little harder to say what she means. an intimacy that frightens her in a way nothing else can; frightened to hold it in her palms, to keep it close without having it break apart.

(not just her — you all are. all four of you. that’s why you've always been together, you think, why you always will be. four hedgehogs huddling together in the cold of night, too desperate for warmth to stay away from each other's spines.)

carefully, almost cautiously, you bring her hand to your lips. as if you’re handling a flimsy sheet of glass. featherlight, a touch so tender you hope she knows what you’re about to say before the words leave your throat.

“you’re worth it,” is whispered against her skin, your lips against her knuckles. shoko softens, but you think the sigh that slips from her lips sounds just a little shaky. “always.”

and finally, you know you aren't deluding yourself. it’s there, visible, the cherry red of her ears; a red that matches the lipstick on your skin. a flush that never travels down to her face. but it’s enough.

she clears her throat. voice beginning to change shape, slowly but surely, morning fatigue peeled off with the ticking of the clock. there’s still a raspy residue, leftover smoke that’ll never quite leave her lungs, but it’s silkier now. trickling like honey from her parted lips.

and it’s terribly soft, her tongue twisting around the vowels, a low lilt that drips with tenderness. she wills herself to smile. tired, but fond. “just let me make you one cup, then.”

so you do.

you let her, after briefly pointing out the functions of the far too expensive espresso machine that satoru bought you when you first moved in, and she listens intently. those pretty eyes, the intelligence behind them, her lips pursed in focus. shoko’s a genius, you’ve always thought — so effortlessly good at memorization, at figuring out how things work. what ties everything together. 

you think it’s a little comical that she struggled so much with making coffee, of all things, but you choose to attribute it to her slight hangover.  

because she’s focused, when she begins to fiddle with the machine. attentive. as if she’s dissecting it. a satisfaction in the way she moves, the way everything clicks into place as she works. everything serves a purpose, every single part in the machinery, every tube or pump of caffeine. she compares it to the human body, a glint in her eyes, and you can’t disagree.

all you can do is watch her. silently, entirely mesmerized. sitting on the kitchen counter, bare thighs against the marble, swinging your legs. telling her about the dream you had, while she listens. always.

a fresh, thick aroma of espresso and rainwater begins to waft through the apartment. one you drink in, greedy, steam filling your lungs. as you admire how the tiny droplets bounce off the hyacinths blooming on your balcony.

and when she’s finished, producing one cup of espresso, tailored to your liking, you can’t still the beating of your heart. unsure if you should blame it on the caffeine yet to enter your veins, or the proud smile that lingers on your girlfriend’s lips. maybe the way her fingers curl around the handle, the way a soft here, baby, spills from her smudged lips. all of the above, probably.

she’s gorgeous. breathtaking. sometimes you want to give her everything, more than you could live without. your heart, your lungs, your eyes. anything she asks for.

but she would never. all she’ll ever need is for you to keep sticking around, keep telling her about your silly dreams, keep letting her feel the beat of your pulse at the base of your throat. a mantra she’s fallen a little bit in love with.

and when you put your lips against the ceramic, and a bittersweet scent fills your lungs, you think you can taste it. that care, a love soft enough to mend all the jagged edges of your heart.

shoko smiles. smoothing a stray eyelash from your skin, thumb against your cheekbone. “how is it?”

(you swear it’s the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had.)

[madaqueue]

just a reminder that you are loved !!!! and valued!!!!! and you belong, you are not out of place or annoying or too much, you are unique and worthy and make people smile and deserve to feel at home!!!!! i love you!!!!!!

[cloudwisp]

comm by bubble_sen

“Does this tea time have to end at all? Couldn’t it just continue on into the evening, with you keeping me company?”

[uzi-x33]

i finished it yesterday, I need more content please🙏🙏🙁 anyways miya is my son, fuck Adam, and renga & matchablossom canon:3

[andi-o-geyser]

A compilation of my favourite Perc’ahlia lines because I’m such a sucker for them:

“She is my heart and my judgement and the future that I have chosen.” (Percy)

“Darling, take the mask off.” (Vex)

“Every time I thought I would sink, I would see your face- your face, the first time I truly lost control, and you told me to take off the mask.“ (Percy)

“You're a good person and you're not broken anymore. All right? We're filling each other's gaps. We'll be the glue.“ (Vex)

 “Never forget you’re my favourite.” (Percy)

“I’ve known a lot of people with money, and they are definitely not worth you.” (Percy)

“Nice shootin’, stud.” (Vex)

“You’ll have to amend that one name, just to be fair. It’s Lady Vex’ahlia. Lady Vex’ahlia, Baroness of the Third House of Whitestone and Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt.” (Percy)

“My heart is someone else’s.” (Vex)

“I should have told you: it’s yours.” (Vex)

“There was a hole in my heart, and I truly believe the only reason I didn't perish from it was because you were holding my heart so tightly. I thank the gods I gave it to you. It is yours, forever and always.“ (Vex)

“I just scream, I scream.” (Vex)

“I need you here now, I need you here.” (Percy)

“You still have a little blood behind your ear.” (Vex)

“But I don’t want to be here if you’re not. Whitestone still needs you, darling. I still need you here.“ (Vex)

“You’re far too wonderful for an idiot.“ (Percy)

“He’s married, to me, and I will cut you.” (Vex)

“You have given me a future I had cheaply sold away.“ (Percy)

“You allowed me to be a part of the thing that you hold dearest. And I was so proud.“ (Vex)

“Vex, I heard you. It was the only thing I heard.” (Percy)

“Were you going to fight the Raven Queen for me?” (Vex)

“I promise to walk into the future with you. I promise to build a family with you. And I promise to always be here for an adventure with you.“ (Percy)

[volivolition]

ough. it's been a long day, pass the volistry 💜❤️

[sweetpinkchampagne]

gentle love

pairing: simon riley x fem reader

synopsis: simon has been feeling guilty about his work hours and how unpredictable they are - leaving dates cancelled, and the bed cold when you go to sleep. he comes home to your sleeping figure.

warnings: noooneee :)) just toothache inducing fluff, seriously u needa call the dentist, sexual innuendo

note: hellooooo!!! omgg :) im so scared to post this u have no idea, i typically write in a different style and for stephen strange but something just came over me (you get it, i know you do) i hope you enjoy, please leave feedback or any comments you'd like i love you all so so much <33

heavy, unforgiving boots trudged through your home tracking mud before being pulled off as well as his heavy tactical vest that he dropped with a grunt.

"baby..??" simon called out to you, assuming you would be upstairs as he made his way towards your shared room. his gaze softened as he saw your sleeping figure clutching the pillow from his side of the bed that he guessed smelled of him. cute. your hair was covering your face messily and you were curled up into a ball. a moment of guilt struck him. he wished he could give you the romance you deserved, the date nights and planned holidays - but he was either on call or on deployment. it made the moments you had together even more special to him. he gently opened the door to your ensuite to run a shower, careful not to wake your sleeping figure.

hot water poured down his face as the heat fogged up the glass. memories of you sharing intimate moments in the shower together ran through his mind. not just sex, but the type of showers that unearthed the gentle love the two of you shared. it was only with you that he felt comfortable dropping his cold exterior, 'ghost' if you will. with you, he was always just 'simon' and you loved him more than anything in the world. he wrapped his torso in a freshly washed grey towel as he studied the cuts on his face he had gained ealier in the night. they would worry you. he knew that.

he slipped on his signature grey sweatpants that hung loose on his torso, exposing his chisled v-line, something he often slept in, shirtless n sweats. he was unaware you were awake, smiling at him as he tried to be as quiet as possible. it was 2am. he always mentioned the awful feeling he was used to experiencing at work, the feeling of 'being watched' and in order to combat that, he learned to be hypervigilant, but not with you. never with you.

"hi si.." you yawned sleepily smiling at him and he whipped his head around and met your smile with one just as big. he walked over to the bed abd your eyes couldn't help but wander to the sweatpants that swayed as he walked.

"oh lovie.. 'm sorry baby - tried to be quiet for ya.. know it's late." he huffed as he knelt beside you and kissed your lips gently, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"your cheek! oh my god simon.. you.." you said panicked as your gently cupped his face, tilting his head to study the cuts on his cheek. he chuckled.

"it's nothin' i promise, just glad i came home to the missus..in fact.." he smiled at your flickering eyes, you cared about him so much..simon laughed softly as you squealed in laughter as he pulled you by your legs, down lower onto the bed and spread them apart gently.

"honeyyy, what are you doing- oh.. oh." you looked down at him as he crawled onto the bed, laughing at your assumption.

"psshh, 'ts not that baby, you're half asleep.. jus' wanna get comfy thas' all" he yawned and smiled sleepily as he laid between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face in the plush of your tummy. you sighed in contentment at the feeling of safety that washed over you. your hands ran through his soft hair and he moved his head down and peppered kisses along your stomach, something that in a different circumstance would send butterflies to your stomach but instead, you just felt love.

"goodnight si, i love you" you smiled, looking down at the blonde curls buried into your stomach.

"night lovie, i love you too."

[fatuismooches]

FOR THE HARBINGERS

Reader telling them "I love you", and they either smile, fluster or say ilyt BUT reader is like " no you don't understand ". Grabs them by the shoulder, looks them dead straight in the eye and says it slowly once again. " I. Love. You." And proceed to say the most devoted, loving words about them and how reader is so in love, loyal and just. UGHHHH

Take it easy! Just bask into this idea, hope you don't stress over answering a bunch of (my 😭) asks!! Mwah mwah 💕💕 /p

OH I AM MORE THAN BASKING INTO THIS BECAUSE IT IS SO REAL!!!! We love a reader who is completely and utterly in love with their Harbingers <3 Pierro and Capitano are the ones who stay silent as you go on a whole tangent about how much you love them. Pierro retains his usual serious look, but you're so caught up with your words you may not notice how his face turns softer at your blatant declarations of devotion. Sure, he has a mountain of work to catch up on, but what kind of lover would he be if he didn't let his love rant their feelings out to him? He's not the most verbal or physically affectionate, but that doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate it. I imagine he's been betrayed and such in the past, you know with Celestia and Khaenri'ah and all, so he deeply appreciates your words. Capitano... well, you can never really see his expression with that big helmet of his, so it's a bit hard to tell what he's thinking but don't worry!! His heart is beating quicker than usual and his mind is racing as to what to reply with!! Since when did you become so romantic and affectionate? He hasn't read enough romance advice books to respond properly yet! So Capitano just... pats your head and thanks you so sincerely it makes you giggle. He attempts to formally respond to your feelings via writing but he can't find the right words, unfortunately.

Dottore (that's who you're here for, I know) merely bursts into a laugh. No, he's not laughing at you, but he simply finds it a bit amusing. The idea of true devotion, of genuine loyalty, of real love... he still toys with those concepts a bit. He does feel these things toward you, but he won't verbalize them. Yet you don't seem to care about admitting those feelings toward him in the slightest... in fact, it seems like you jump at the chance to tell him how much you adore him... it's a bit funny to Dottore. Of course, he won't ever stop you, he does enjoy being worshipped and loved by you. Akademiya Zandik, on the other hand, would probably fight you off and then storm away to hide his blushing cheeks. How dare you say such idiotic things to him and how dare you make his heart thump hard at such stupid words. Pantalone too, except it's less of a laugh and more of a few chuckles. He's the kind of person to smile and nod at everything you say, completely enamored by you. He'll stop you in the middle and ask you to elaborate on a specific part and you happily do, he's stroking his own ego at this point but how can you blame him? His darling is being far too cute for him not to want to tease them a bit!

Columbina and Childe are very excited and blushy over it. They adore it when you're so open with them! Columbina's smile is even larger than usual as she hums in agreement with everything you're saying. Yes, please keep adoring her like this. She loves hearing about how much you love her. She's quite open with her feelings toward you too, so to hear it reciprocated so plainly? Pure bliss for her! Childe too is similar, you can literally see how he lights up and a faint blush spreads across his cheeks when you flatter him with such praise. But not for too long, because he'll pick you up and tease you ten times harder. Trying to get on his good side, hmm? Well, he'll have you know he loves you far more than you ever cold. Occasionally, he gets worried about whether it's right to be with you since he's in the Fatui, so these kinds of messages are secretly quite reassuring to him.

Arlecchino and Signora are very elegant and smooth about it. They watch you with a knowing smile, hands tracing over your collarbone and up to your neck and chin... a finger combing through your hair. Arlecchino is still a quiet and reserved woman, she still doesn't say much after your confession, but she is very pleased. Kisses you and gives you a sincere thank you. In her line of work, it's not often she find someone as loyally passionate as you are. Much less someone she loves to the deepest depths of her heart. She knows that you'll never betray or stab her in the back, and she shall never do that to you either. Signora is more smug and teasing about it. Oh? You truly love her that much? How about you show her it too? She ends up flustering you despite you being the one throwing all these sweet words at you. She truly loves being pampered by you, she needs it after all with all of the heartache she went through with her last lover, who she was abruptly cut off from.

Scaramouche and Sandrone short circuit for a few moments before springing back to life, stuttering and berating you for such stupidity and hurriedly breaking free from your grip. They can't deal with such loving words being directed towards them, especially unprompted. Scaramouche's expression is one that you have imprinted in your memory, the uncharacteristic redness and slack jaw, before he becomes his usual Scara self and launches into a long speech about how clingy and strange you were and that you should never do that ever again lest he actually get mad (this is a plea for you to confess all of that again, despite his adamant protest... you know he loves being loved, a feeling that always seemed to slip away from him. He's hesitant about it but he can't deny the rush of his "heart" when he hears your sincere words.) Sandrone's face is just blank. Blank like a robot. She opens her mouth to speak and then closes it, and then opens it again but she's at a loss for words. She finally gets out a half-hearted insult and ends up stuttering halfway through, so that's already not a good look for her. It seems even her usual bad attitude can't keep up when assaulted with such genuine affection...

And... Papanella can get a little platonic kiss on the cheek while you thank him for being the best grandad.

[transmascutena]

when someone comes out of episode 31 and 32 still believing nanami is in love with touga

[msommers]

just a wild rambling rose seeking mysteries untold no regret for the path that I chose when a flower grows wild, it can always survive wildflowers don't care where they grow

GHILETH'ELRA OF CLAN VENALAS; lorehold bard ↳ the vigilant campaign, secondary pc [ templates: 1, 2, 3 ]

[plutoids-thoughts]

Orion says Happy Valentines Day!

He loves you very much and wants you to know you’re doing great!

(click for better image quality!)

[mrsoharaa]

Nothing encourages and fills Baro's ambition more then to see you, his beautiful, thoughtful queen cheering him on from the seats in the stadium. Waving and shouting out to him as loud as you can with occasional air kisses and radiant smiles!