#with messy hair and adorable clumsiness
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arainmorn-art · 1 year ago
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Just binged the whole thing
Omigosh. "My Adventures with Superman" was super ADORABLE.
Never understood the apeal of a 100% Lawful Good overpowered invincible protagonist before, but now I do. I haven't even watched anything Superman-related before. Clark is such a good boy. A gentle giant struggling with his non-human strength, he went to the chess club to minimize any chances he would hurt anyone by accident. A shy polite clumsy and nerdy good boy from a good loving family wanting to protect other people and a nice girl he loves. Oh gosh, can I keep him?
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The way he's animated, the detailes of his whole body language, gosh, animators did wonders with Clark's character. I adore the first part of the show before the drama, because cheeses, I haven't seen such a cute romance progression in a long time, when they both obviously like each other and they also can see it in each other. Loved it! Giggled through their romance like a schoolgirl.
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I liked Lois, how both tomboyish and very feminine she is. This was so friggin' refreshing to see an energetic independant girl who is also sweet, soft, vulnerable and contradicting herself, not girlbossing relatability and feelings the hell out of any interaction these characters might have. In one moment I was displeased with her decisions, when she was hurt that Clark didn't tell her he was a Superman and told him there won't be any relationship between them because of that, it was a big "COME ON" for me, but I liked that actualy it was a product of a very girly tangled way of thinking, "You lied to me! Does it mean you were pretending to have feelings for me too?!" while crying. Yes. Yes, thank you, it was a very brief moment, but as a regular girl I felt itXD I love when emotional girls are depicted rightly: saying one thing, implying another, thinking the third, crying inside and outside how hurt she is on several levels over an idiot who hasn't thought about her feelings properly. Great stuff, approve wholeheartedly. Maybe the battle against brick-faced toxic masculinity in a female wig, oh, excuse me, Holliwood feminist never-wrong-doing girlbosses will be won someday with smart writing and kind-hearted life observations. We have a great soldier here. She also reminded me a lot of Roxana from Megamind, and I loved that girl a lot.
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I'm also surprised how there were little to no of Twitter SJW-ness. Very nice. I also joked on the phone with my friend, that it felt very ironic, how there are more female villains (haven't count, but it seems like that), than male, and those angry bitches are fighting against the sweetest himbo on Earth, who is saving kittens, infants and grannies all day long. I don't think it was intentional, but in a current climate of English-speaking media - very nice.
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Pacing wise, hm, with a purely comedic first part a really fast pacing was great, but on the second half with drama... eh. It felt very rushed. Also, well, as I don't know the lore behind Superman deeper than it is dispersed in the current pop-culture, I was confused with his alien origin, as it felt a lot like Invincible. I thought the whole schtick of Invincible was about, you know, the main twist, buuuuuuuuuut what's about Superman? I know it's kinda backwards to first watch Invincible then watch anything about Superman, but I had a big deja vu. Maybe I'll read some wiki about Clark, I was hella confused.
Overall great show, loved it. The strange, um, mad genius gay couple was something I wasn't expecting to laugh at so much today. And admiring anime Superman. Wow.
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matchamiko · 9 months ago
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₊˚⊹ ᰔ Daydreams about Yuuji
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₊˚⊹ ᰔ Warnings: Oral (m -> receiving): sloppy, messy oral; masturbation: dirty talk; AFAB reader (use of girl, girlfriend,); established new relationship; mentions of oral (f -> receiving).
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Daydreaming about giving Yuuji his first blowjob. Being his cute, soft, bundle-of-fun girlfriend for a few months before asking him if he wants to fuck your mouth, a little crudely in your tone but quietly, a whisper from your quivering lips. Quivering only in anticipation and the mere thought of him spread out, spilling down your throat. You’re painting your nails on a book on the floor, polish bottles positioned carefully so they don’t tip. A glass of iced yuzu tea sits next to Yuuji’s on the side table, forgotten in your concentration and forgotten in your distraction.
Your nails are long dry now, a pretty pearl that glimmers in the light. They’re fisted on your folded thighs, clenching and cracking when Yuuji shifts uncomfortably under the heat of your gaze.
“You wanna - what?” Golden thighs fog any semblance of sobriety you have left, craving the warm supple skin before you like a wolf to prey. He’s reclined on the foldaway couch he’d thrifted from the side of the road, gym shorts pulled tight over the very tops of his thighs and over his crotch. Staring down at you with sweat beading his hairline and his lower lip dropped open at your sultry admission,
“Please? Should I have said please first?” You shuffle towards him, not touching but so desperately obvious in your lust that Yuuji struggles on where to look, “please can I suck your cock? Pretty please? With a cherry on top?”
You two hadn’t had sex yet, not that it hadn’t come close. Something had always interrupted, whether it was a noisy neighbour or an irritating friend or mentor, or even the cat that roams your apartment as if it was his own. Kissing him was a dream, touching him made you too hot for your own skin and only he had made you come so far, fingers deep and a little clumsy but deft and strong in their wringing of your orgasm(s) on steamy summer’s afternoons tangled up on the couch.
So asking him for favours wasn’t really out of the question. Yuuji adored it when you politely asked for a kiss, positively beams at you before swallowing your radiating embarrassment with his lips. He’s not beaming now, not in the same way.
He’s - sweating. Squirming as he nods with a dry throat, swallowing and grinding his mouth shut. You’re picture perfect between his thighs, pearly nails digging welts into his muscle and humming at the give of the blonde hairs there. He’s afraid of what might happen if he opens his mouth, some kind of animalistic whimper or a loud sob? He feels rather pathetic before you, but gloriously so, bent to your will and your pretty painted nails.
“Bet you taste so good Yuuji,” you simper, lips picking out the moles and freckles leading up to his groin, “might give me some kinda oral fixation,”
Yuuji moans then, out-loud and deep from his chest. You grin wolfishly, fingers deft as they slip over the sweat resistant material of his shorts and up under his t-shirt. It’s tight, a little musty from drying in the bathroom and it gives way for the trail over his belly,
“Hold this f’me Yuuji,” broad hands hover over the edge of his shirt and then over you, biting his lip and then biting the fabric, “Mhm, thank you for letting me do this, been wanting to taste your cock for ages,”
“Yea-sh,” his voice is crackled and muffled by his shirt, spittle damping it but you’re pulling down the band of his shorts and suddenly it’s a little too real, hands raising to pause you, “Baby wait - I -,”
Anything he was going to say dies in a guttural grunt as you envelope the top of his weepy cock in your mouth. Hands that were intended to push you away grab you closer, cradling your throat and squeezing your shoulder.
“Mmmm,” you hum, one hand squeezing the base and the other squeezing his thigh, eyes rolling into the back of your head with the salty, bitter taste of him. Little sucks and kisses have Yuuji barely containing his groans and choked whines, hips flexing beneath you. The shirt has fallen to just below his pecs, belly tightening and flexing with every kick of his cock against your soft palate, but you don’t mind because he’s still trying to keep it out of your sloppy, drooly way, fisting the fabric and giving you a peak of a soft brown nipple, hard and aching.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop, please please please,” he babbles, the hand on your neck moving to the back of your head, shaking as he follows your bobbing movements. His dick is thick, long and warm in the cavern of your mouth, the mushroom tip pink and slimy with pre, and you swallow every drop a little over enthusiastically. Humming and moaning and whimpering, you’re practically dripping through your underwear, positive you’ve wet through to the carpet.
And when you breathe in through your nose and take him as far as you can, the tip of your nose just shy of his pubes; the two of you practically lose your minds. Yuuji trembles above you, hunched over and incoherent; and you shimmy your thighs together in a squeeze of relief, drool coating the base of his cock and tears skimming your lashes.
“Y-you’re so hot baby look at ya’,” he can see the way you’re wiggling your hips, craning over you with sleepy eyes and heavy pants, “why - why don’t you play with your pretty pussy? Seein’ as you’re practically milking me dry,” Yuuji’s words come out slurred and muffled, as if his mouth were socked with cotton. A large hand comes down on the back of your neck, sweetly holding you and a stark contrast to the way his cock jerks in the tunnel of your throat as you deftly skim your fingers into your shorts. 
The angle is all wrong and you can barely feel the hard bud of your clit but you can feel the pearly arousal that sloshes around your underwear, loud but not loud enough over the slurps and kisses over his cock. You make it work, squirming and widening your knees a little but it still isn’t really enough, not that it mattered because he’s enough, Yuuji is always enough to get you off whether he’s touching you or not. And the heavy head of his cock popping from the seal of your lips is just that right kind of salacious that has your mind fuzzy and dizzy with lust. 
“Ah - fuck!” Yuuji chokes on his spit, throwing himself back against the folded futon that serves as the padding of the couch, one arm slumped over his eyes as you focus your attention on the root of his cock, looking up at him through your lashes and fluttering them when your index finger catches on your clit. His breathing comes out in heaving huffs, chest expanding gloriously above you and abs flexing with every clench of his belly. It’s heaven to you, a vision you always knew would be one to keep locked away in the deepest caverns of your mind, something precious and treasured and so disgustingly debauched. You slow your ministrations for a moment, content with just watching the reactions your boyfriend has when you twist your hand, squeeze a little harder, suckle at the vein on the side of his dick. Yuuji seems to appreciate the little break, catching his breath and adjusting his hips, jutting his length into your cheek and it’s amusing that such a kind boy doesn’t even apologise for it. 
“D’you want me to make you cum? Or - do you wanna fuck my mouth?” a long, drawn out groan answers you and you return it with a long lick right up the thickening root of him, 
“I - get to choose?” Yuuji’s voice is hoarse, cracked and strained from his addictive noises, deep with lust and something a little darker, “Really?” 
At your nod, you delve back into the leaking warmth of him. Yuuji gives a strangled grunt and gives his hips a little experimental thrust, pulsing upwards into the deeper depths of your throat. He seems torn between letting you do as you pleased, and giving in to his most debauched fantasies. He’d been given oral before, blowies or whatever his friends called them but they were nothing like you, none of them paid attention to his every reaction and noise, none of them gave him any choice or option on what he wanted to do. So to have you licking him deep and soft and all things sweet, eyes open and questioning with little bias; he’s all a fluster. 
“You - you can do it, I want you to make me cum baby,” the words were supposed to be gentle, coaxing, all the things Yuuji wished he was to you but his jaw is set and his voice is more of a growl, especially when he spots your tongue lathing over the base, leaving a trail and a string of drool. He tips his head back, bottom lip tugged into his mouth and his thighs drop open further, 
“But make sure you don’t stop playing with that pretty pussy, want you to feel just as good as me,” a whimper answers him and Yuuji isn’t sure if he’ll actually last as long as he thought he would, as he conveyed through his words. And he definitely isn’t sure because you abandon his cock in favour of his balls for a moment, and he’s suddenly all tight in his belly. You’re still squeezing and jerking and flexing your fingers around him, but your wet little tongue is skimming over the soft skin of his sac and drawing them into your mouth with the most wanton moan he think he’s ever heard. You’re visibly more aroused than before, wrist working diligently in your underwear, stretched tight and a much darker colour than earlier, but Yuuji can’t focus on your pleasure right now, for once, for the first time in your relationship. All he can think about is himself and how good it feels to have his pretty girl absolutely worshipping his cock, and he doesn’t care that you’re getting sloppy in your clouded lust; you’re back to sucking him feverently and whining around the thick of him. 
“Gonna - baby you’re gonna make me c -,” His admission has you shuffling even closer, abandoning your poor, suffering cunt and slapping a gooey, sticky hand on his thigh to brace yourself. 
And it's the wet little smear you leave behind, webbing between your fingers and joining the pre dripping down his cock as you hold him with both hands that has him positively howling your name. Hips pulse into your face, forcing his cock deeper as it swells down your throat and shoots hot, wet and salty into your belly. A hand comes down to his hip, the other fisting the shirt over his chest and catching on his nipple with a startled yelp. You’re strong in your restraint, letting him thrash and writhe beneath you, keeping yourself rooted in his lap and swallowing everything you can, shivering at the taste and the feeling of his cock kicking and twitching with every pulse of his orgasm. 
“I gotta - you gotta get off baby,” you don’t realise that he’s come down, don’t realise that he’s still twitching but with overstimulation and softening against the limp muscle of your tongue, “I can’t, I can’t do another yet, m’sorry but -,” Yuuji, through the jelly-like jitter of his limbs, heaves you off the floor and into his lap with a grunt, “That was the best head anyone’s ever given me,”
You’re shy all of a sudden, as if you’re not still swallowing the remains of his spend and sporting the slickest arousal you’ve ever experienced. Yuuji kisses your nose with an appreciative smile, 
“Really? I just wanted to do it y’know? You make me wanna suck your cock all the time, s’just something about you,” you tuck your chin into your chest, almost giving in to the little kisses he pecks all over your face, stopping at your temple and deflating with a sigh at your admission, 
“You’re cute baby,” his cock twitches from where it’s nestled between his stomach and your cotton covered crotch, “But a meanie, I swear you’ll be the death of me, thought I was gonna black out at one point,” 
“Yeah, yeah,” your fingers twist into the fine hairs at the back of his neck, sagging into him and kissing him with a deflated breath. Yuuji licks into your mouth lazily, hands squeezing up the length of your waist and back down again, urging your hips into a soft grind. You’re still sat up on your knees, so all you can feel is the syrupy chafe of your underwear over your cunt and you huff, 
“S’okay pretty girl, I got you,” Yuuji smiles at your apparent distress, “You want me to return the favour huh? Let you fuck my mouth instead? That what you want?” his long, thick fingers trickle into your underwear, choking at the slick he finds there, slipping and sliding over the swell of your clit, “Fuck - you got so fuckin’ worked up, bet you won’t last long, not as long as me,”
“Just, I don’t know - Yuuji, please,” a little circle of your hips puts his fingers where you need them most, “Do something or I’m gonna cry,” he shushes you, kissing you again with a loud smack, 
“I got you baby, gonna make this pretty pussy feel better, I promise,” Yuuji physically flinches when he pulls his hand from between your thighs, covered nearly to the wrist with your arousal and he inhales deep, dark, nostrils flaring at your scent. His tongue drops between his fingers, slurping up to the knuckles and down to the callouses on his palms, eyes fluttering and reopening to stare at you, “You taste insane - fuck - ‘m gonna eat you so fucking good, you’re not gonna know what hit you,”
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all rights reserved © matchamiko. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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frmisnow · 2 months ago
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total loser. ⊹₊⟡ nsfw.
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summary. crashing a party just to unwind? yeah, that was the plan — until you end up sharing a smoke with the lead singer of that metal band. turns out the ‘playboy sex god’ image? total myth. awkward, tipsy, and apparently… a virgin?! this night just got interesting !
warnings / includes. all fictional ofc, smoking, drinking, suggestive themes, soft!dom reader
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damned be after parties.
but long live your connections and well.. pretty face, that's what gets you in one of these special parties, pretty privilige is alive and breathing!
for the fact that this was an after party of a last tour show for one of the biggest metal bands right now, you'd imagine it to be a lot more expensive. these red plastic cups just don't cut it, and whose idea was it to squeeze so many people into one little room? that's the charm of the metal industry, i guess.
apropos charm of the metal industry?
you'd think somebody put something in your drink, the way you see the jungkook in front of your eyes right now? leaned up against a wall, nursing what looked like his fourth shot, hair messy like he just got of stage.
one of his bandmates stumbles past, slapping him on the back, and jungkook nearly loses his balance. He mutters something, barely audible over the music, brows drawn together in this adorable mix of annoyance and confusion. his eyes trail over the room before ultimately settling back onto the man in front of him, patting his back, a cigarette pack in his hand.
you made your way through the people, way to much sweat and way to close might i add, did you look obssesive? maybe. but the cold night air sounded heavenly and you could use a good smoke. plus, you'd rather come of as a groupie then get suffocated on the dance floor.
with each step, you felt the chaos of the party fade a little more. the fresh air hit your face like a slap, and you welcomed it, relishing the brief moment of solitude. But you weren’t the only one seeking a breather.
jungkook pushed off the wall, nearly colliding with you as you stepped outside. the cold night air was a relief, sharp and refreshing, cutting through the haze of noise and sweat. he fumbled with the cigarette pack, almost dropping it as he tried to shake one out, his fingers clumsy from the alcohol.
"need a light?” you offered, pulling your lighter from your pocket.
he met your gaze, a hint of gratitude in those dark eyes, before quickly looking anywhere else but you, “thanks. I usually don’t smoke, but—” he paused, taking a deep drag before exhaling a cloud of smoke. “i guess i just get… scared. so, i drink. and then i drink some more and then i start smoking, it's a bad habit.”
silence fell over the both of you, you didn't decide to pry since that'd just be rude. even though there were quite a few thoughts in your head. why was he scared? rather, who was he scared of?
after a while (and plenty of drags), jungkooks voice cut through the carefully established silence, small and quiet, a mumbling-like tone that made him seem tipsy, "i don't know i just want to feel something.." he trails off, shaking his head, clearly oversharing, "i mean no, i feel something when i'm on stage i just-"
he took a breath, taking another drag before ultimately stupping it out with his shoe, giving him another oppurtunity to not stare at you, "would you have sex with me?"
the next thing you knew, you were standing outside jungkook’s apartment, the door slightly ajar, a hesitant light spilling into the hallway. you weren't proud of it, but you also didn't have time to really think it through? teaching a hot rockstar virgin how to have sex? that sounds ai-generated and it was simply something you couldn't pass up on.
he fumbled with the keys, his fingers still shaky from the drinks or maybe that was just him, you'd seen his feet tap onto the floor multiple times throught the uber and his eyes never quite seemed to settle. maybe he was just a naturally anxious person, that's the impression he gave of.
the place was small but cozy, with a faint scent of lingering smoke and rock posters plastered across the walls, giving it an oddly inviting charm.
"i think you're really pretty." he managed to hold eye contact this time around, though he was clearly fidgety.
you smiled, genuinely, a rush of flush going straight to your cheeks, fuck weren't you supposed to be the compsoed one? yet he was so sweet in a way. "flattery won't get you anywhere but it's a nice start."
he grinned, walking ahead of you intot he kitchen, the small amount of alcohol he had in his system making him lose some balance in his step but he quickly recomposed himself, his eyes lingering on you for just a second longer then last time, "would you like some water?"
you don't think you've ever had anybody ask you if you wanted to drink water during a hookup, but you welcome the thought. see? so sweet, how would you even teach him sex?
"sure." you respond, shrugging, as he pours some in, "can i kiss you?"
he nods, the water in the glass swirling in small circles as he takes a step closer towards you—he's so close you can feel his breath on your skin, each one of his exhales and inhales—his eyes on you, "yeah."
his tone is quiet, but firm and his free hand slowly reaches to your waist, "can i touch you?"
you hush a 'yeah', closing the gap between the both of you, pulling your shirt of yourself.
as he grasped the lace of your bra, he hesitated, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. you guided his hands, gently tugging him on, the material falling away effortlessly.
"oh.." he gasped, like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs, eyes taking a quick glance on the now exposed skin in front of him—all of the tension he was carrying in his shoulders quickly disappearing.
he put the glass down on the nearest surface, "sit on the couch." he mumbled, breath shaky as he gently pushed you back.
"woah commanding now?" you raised your eyebrows, genuine surprise written over your face though you grin, walking down the hallway, sitting down.
"i'm a quick learner." he muttered, his eyes on you as he followed behind, quickly making his way on the couch, sitting incredibly close to you. he leaned forward, his body hovering over yours before he quickly put his mouth on your neck, leaving small kisses on the skin.
you encouraged him, tugging him closer, your fingers weaving into his hair as he found his rhythm. with every kiss, he grew bolder, his hands exploring the curves of your body like he was savoring something sweet.
you pulled him down with you, laughter escaping your lips as he stumbled slightly, catching himself with a grin.
“okay, maybe I’m not a pro at this,” he said, his cheeks slightly flushed. You smirked, enjoying his awkward charm.
you guided his hands, showing him how to touch, how to tease. the couch squeaked under you as you shifted positions, getting more comfortable. his kisses became more confident, more demanding, each one igniting a fire within you.
as his clothes started to come off, the atmosphere became charged. You watched as his eyes widened, a mix of surprise and desire flooding his expression. he was eager, and you were more than willing to lead the way.
you tangled your fingers with his, showing him what felt good, how to respond to your body. he mirrored your movements, following your lead, the shy, awkward dweeb from earlier replaced by someone more daring. you sucessfully managed to change a rockstar; that'd look good on a resume.
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machveil · 2 months ago
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ok ok so we all know and love loser!könig...BUT CONSIDER loser!könig x loser!reader!!!!
like, reader is equally as touch-starved and nervous and clumsy but also so, so needy...you know??? flusters so easily...and yet also has the FILTHIEST mind.
idk just pathetic man + equally as pathetic reader 😵‍💫💕
Loser!König flustering over you silently resting against him. it doesn’t matter if you seek him out to tuck against his side, lay down on him, or straddle his thighs - all König can do is thickly swallow and awkwardly rest his hands against you. he does adore you nervously settling against him, he’ll just never get used to the way you make his heart pound. he loves how you awkwardly ask him to cuddle, avoiding his gaze by looking down, “Ah— ja, come here, Liebchen.”. he’d never turn you away, a small bit of guilt in his chest because he’s doing it more for himself than you
Loser!König that takes a deep breath before walking up to the cashier to order for you both. even though he feels his skin crawl when he stumbles over your orders, König would rather embarrass himself than let you fumble over your order. he’d rather order take out and have it delivered, but when you’re both out and hungry he’d take that social interaction bullet for you… he comes crawling back to you, flushed and hot in the face. it’d calm his nerves if you held his hand, Schatz :(
Loser!König unintentionally making you flustered. while König has no charisma when purposely trying to flirt with you, he has such cute ways of making your heart twist with love. when he fumbles a pickup line he’ll gently hold his own hands, weakly tugging at his fingers while he apologizes for sounding cringy - but you like the way his voice gets a little whiny when he nervously chuckles afterwards. he’ll excitedly come up to you, hands wildly gesturing while he tries to convey something cool he learned. he gets so close to you, too close. he’s nearly chest to… face with you, looking down at you with wide, blue eyes and a lopsided smile
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CW: cockwarming, overstimulation (König!receiving)
Loser!König loves how needy you are, his sweet Liebling falling apart before anything even happens. what he didn’t expect, but comes to love immediately, is how desperate you are for him. he’s been touch-starved his whole life, he didn’t think anyone would understand the feeling. well, how wrong he was, behind closed doors when you’re pawing at him and asking him to touch you he’s absolutely delighted
Loser!König that worries about crushing you - well, hurting you in general. he tends to get a little lost in the moment, all sloppy kisses and mindless rutting. maybe that’s why he lets you crawl onto his lap to go at your own pace. he’s got his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, biting down a little too hard as he watches you. you’ve got König laying down in bed, he had been reading a book before you shyly came up to him. how was he supposed to resist you when you quietly asked if you could sit together
sitting together led to being on his lap, being on his lap led to you grinding against him. before Loser!König knew it you had his sweatpants and boxers tugged down, arms around his shoulders as you pressed your face against his neck. he can’t help but groan when you tell him you’ve been wanting him all day - that he looked so good wearing nothing special, hair messy and unkempt. maybe, just maybe, that’s how König ended up with you cockwarming him for the past couple minutes
Loser!König is just as desperate as you are though, a pathetic little whine leaving his mouth when he involuntarily bucks his hips up, face beet red when you moan and mouth at his neck. and then he whines, eyes fluttering shut when you ask him to be good for you, that you’ll make him feel good if he lets you rock against him until you can’t anymore. his hands are twisting against the sheets, legs twitchy when you pull an orgasm from him, “Bein’ good f’me, König—”. he can’t stop the tears lining his waterline from spilling, salty streaks running down his cheeks when you keep riding him. it’s too much, but he wouldn’t have it any other way - he’s all yours to use, Liebling
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trulyumai · 3 months ago
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sweet wine and messy lips
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pairing: emperor geta / empress! reader
synopsis: in which geta and his wife get drunk. even clumsy and lost in a stupor, the emperor still tries to adore you in his own way.
warnings: geta talking down to people, grabbing.
a/n: im re-entering my heimdall phase (gow2) so be on the lookout for that and I apologize in advance for another hyper fixation taking me over completely
enjoy!
your hand nudged the goblet towards geta, tipping it ever so slowly to his lips until a bright maroon dusted across the pink expansion.
“try it— you’ll like it my liege I swear it!”
Geta only scoffed, his cheeks red with drunken clumsiness.
“get that away from me, wife. I’d rather drink poison than to sip on such a disgrace of wine.”
you pouted instantly, already drunk yourself, the sweet wine wafted off your figure like a cheap oil. “pretty please, husband? it’s got all the flavors you like,”
listing them off slowly, your other hand began its decent up his arm and finding passage massaging his shoulder. Geta, ever soft for your hands couldn’t help but relax in such a comforting hold.
“cherries, a hint of cinnamon—“
gods you smelled divine.
so sweet, so alluring to the man that he could sweep you off your feet right then and there.
“did I say grapes? it has honey too, just the right amount—
“wife,” the emperor shuddered. your fingernails found their way up his chest, lightly circling and smoothing their way across it as you were lost in thought, too busy naming of ingredients instead of paying attention to the now flustered lord.
“wife!” Geta interrupted, seizing your moving hand with his own ringed one.
fearing you did something wrong, your posture instantly froze; rigid and stiff.
‘calmly, you fool.’ Geta’s thoughts rang out, his grip lightened and with a feathery touch made its way to the jawline just in front of him.
clenched and tightened with stressful thinking.
“I… apologize, little wife,” he finally gritted out. you were so beautiful tonight. it’s as if the stars molded across your eyes and lit up the expansion of your pupils with untold dreams and conquests.
He wanted to drown in them.
“im tired, hm?”
your lip wobbled before a look of surprise took over the reddened and messy features you displayed.
“of course, my emperor! how could I be so silly?”
getting up off the man’s lap, you felt a tug upon the material of your robe.
it was light, but firm enough for you to turn your neck back around with a slow uneasiness and to the emperor once more.
he laid comfortably against the seat, sagging into it while his legs spread with enough of a widened expansion for your body to mold into.
his arm, the one that wasn’t connected to your delicate robes— sat against the ginger hairs littering his head, with his fingers pushed against the pale temple, making his upper body lean to the side.
he looked relaxed. happy, one might say.
“you will return with me, won’t you, wife?” although it sounded like a question, you knew it wasn’t.
even in your drunken state, the man’s stature—his temper is a trait you won’t easily forget.
so instead of having one more glass, like you had intentions of doing, you nodded in agreement.
it’s all geta needed to hear, or rather, see before clumsily gathering himself out of the throne.
instantly, the party goers raised, bowing their head completely before the man could demand them of it.
usually, the emperor would make a show of this. mumble on about how well trained they are, how obedient.
“their more like animals,” he would scoff, laughing vehemently while tugging you along. possessive fingers grazing your waist with the cool feeling of the rings brushing against any revealing skin.
such a touch brought you back to the present, cold and calculated against the backside of your dress.
following your husbands bounding steps, you avoided the looks that were thrown your way. it wasn’t wise to get drunk in front of so many people, you knew it wasn’t.
but geta had insisted.
“we’re winning the war, dearest.” he had all but giggled, pouring heaps of wine into your (once) empty goblet.
“I ordered it special for you, drink up before Caracalla gets to it, hm?”
you had peered into the drink with newfound interest. a little smile entered your face and pushed against your cheeks. such a sight almost made the emperor flustered—he’d blame it on the wine, most definitely.
it was indeed a light red, the color of the sweet wine you always loved to sip on. upon closer inspection, the smell made its way up and into your senses.
what was a few drinks? you had thought. And with a quick note of appreciation to your husband, the goblet had graced your lips.
who knew it would bring you here, barely holding yourself up against geta as you both made way for the chambers?
his left palm spread out easily against your back. with a firm hold he took lead, guiding you through the stone walls and to the bed that was calling his name.
his other hand braced against the rough wall to the side—just in case he needed to push against it.
“husband?” he heard you call out, with a low drawled out hum, geta responded.
“thank you for the wine.” your sweet voice spoke so low.. so softly against the muffled laughter and voices that spilled out of the throne room.
his fingers came up to the back of your neck, seizing it with a loving grip before his lips crashed upon the top of your head.
he had aimed for your cheek, but this will do.
“anything for you, lovely.” geta purred against the softened locks, already his arms snuck their way under your buttocks, groping and touching the flesh there.
the guards had to move a bit behind, just beside the corner of the wall to avoid any further groping and kissing that was being displayed.
it was turning out to be a sweet night indeed.
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blueblossomrose · 8 days ago
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SATORU GOJO! 🎂
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader
Content: Fluffy, Gojo is a dad, female reader, is implied that reader is younger than Gojo,
Notes: December 7 was Gojo's birthday and I wanted to give my man a present 😩 but I was uninspired 😐 really nice, so, belated happy birthday, Gojo! 💗
Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡
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It was almost three-fifteen in the morning.
The soft light from the bedside lamp in the room barely illuminated the room. The low, rhythmic sound of the baby monitor, a muffled noise at first, soon became impossible to ignore for Satoru, who woke up with a frustrated groan.
He was lying in bed, where he had fallen asleep wearing only a crumpled t-shirt and sweatpants. A messy strand of his white hair fell over his eyes as he sat up, rubbing his face with his hands.
"That brat is going to kill me one of these days…" he muttered softly, his sleep-hoarse voice full of sarcasm but with a hint of genuine exhaustion.
[Name], who was lying on the right side, was also awakened from her sleep by the noise of the baby monitor. She was about to get up to go to the baby's room, but Satoru stopped her.
"Let me…"
"Are you sure?" She said, soft and worried.
"Yes, I can handle it. Go back to sleep,” he replied, giving a tired half-smile, before getting up from the bed.
He stood up with slow and somewhat clumsy steps as he walked down the dark hallway of the house to the baby’s room.
Little Kazuya was standing in his crib, holding onto the bars with his tiny fingers, his big, sleepy eyes looking straight at the door. His white hair, which he had inherited from Satoru, was all messy, and his red little face indicated that he had probably been crying for a while.
“Huh? What now?” Satoru grumbled, trying to sound serious, but failing miserably when he saw the innocent and curious look on the baby’s face.
As he approached, the boy stretched out his arms in an automatic gesture, a silent plea that Satoru could not ignore. He leaned over and picked the little one up, feeling the warmth of the trembling little body against his chest. The baby let out a soft sob, the crying finally subsiding now that he was in his father’s arms.
"Do you know what time it is?" Satoru whispered. "Three in the morning, young man. Do you have any idea how important your old man's sleep is?"
Kazuya, of course, didn't answer. Instead, he let out an adorable yawn and rested his head on Satoru's shoulder, causing the sorcerer to let out a long, resigned sigh.
"Tsk, that's what happens when you have my genetics... you can't even sleep like a normal child."
As he murmured, his tone was softer now. Satoru began to rock the baby with slow, rhythmic movements, walking in circles around the room. He ran his free hand gently over his son's back, feeling him slowly relax. Silence returned, except for the distant sound of the city sleeping outside and Kazuya's increasingly slow breathing.
Satoru looked down at the sleeping face of the baby, who was now fast asleep in his lap. The constant arrogance disappeared, replaced by a tender gaze.
"I don't know how you did it, brat... but it seems like you're starting to soften me up," he whispered, before carefully placing Kazuya back in his crib. He straightened up and stood there for a moment, watching his son sleep. A part of Satoru wondered how he, someone so used to living on the edge between strength and pride, now found himself surrendered to such a fragile and small creature.
"This world doesn't deserve you."
Walking back into the room, he saw [Name] there. She was half-awake, her face illuminated by the dim light of the lamp, her expression soft and restless.
Satoru looked at her and sighed. He lay down on the bed next to her. They stared at each other in silence for a while, before she spoke. "Did he fall asleep?"
"Yes." He mumbled. "After making me spin around with him for 7 minutes."
[Name] laughed softly. "I consider that pretty quick for his sleeping patterns."
"Oh, sure..." Satoru rolled his eyes, but soon smiled when he heard her laugh.
It wasn't just the sound itself, but the fact that she was more comfortable, more at ease than when he had known her. When their paths had crossed, [Name] had been as shy and reserved as a flower before spring. The memory of her back then — her eyes always downcast, her fear of speaking her mind — still haunted him. But there, in the dim light of the night, as she smiled softly with a light humor, he saw how much she had changed. And, perhaps, how much he had changed too.
"Tomorrow is your birthday," [Name] says, her eyes fixed on his, a warm expression lighting up her face.
"Hm? Oh, yes," Satoru answers absently, as if he had forgotten, but the slight glint in his blue eyes indicated otherwise.
"I want to make you a cake."
"A cake, huh? What flavor?" he asked, arching an eyebrow curiously, his tone slightly playful.
"It's a secret! The flavor will be a surprise."
Satoru tilted his head with a mocking smile. "If it was supposed to be a surprise, there would be no need to even talk about the cake, right?"
[Name] laughed, covering her mouth with her hand, as she did whenever she tried to be discreet. "Satoru, you are a silly!"
Satoru. The sound of his own name did something strange inside him. Not in a bad way — quite the opposite. It had been a while since anyone had called him that, by his first name, and the feeling remained funny, almost unsettling, like a distant memory of the intimacy he was no longer used to having.
He couldn't remember the last time someone had called him Satoru so naturally, without reverence, without fear or weight. It was strange. But it was good.
When he was at home, with [Name] and his son, he wasn't the strongest jujutsu sorcerer Satoru Gojo. He was just Satoru. Just Satoru.
That small realization made him smile softly, without notice it. When [Name] noticed, she laughed again, for no apparent reason, just because the lightness of the moment seemed contagious. Satoru accompanied her laughter with a muffled sound, almost a laugh, but low, careful not to wake little Kazuya in the next room.
He looked up at the ceiling, his body relaxing further against the mattress. Satoru lightly squeezed her hand, still intertwined with his.
He didn't need to be the strongest one. He didn't need to prove anything to anyone.
The house returned to silence. The only sound was the calm rhythm of their breathing. When he finally closed his eyes, still holding her hand, Satoru felt that, for the first time in a long time, he was not alone in the world.
And that was enough.
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chocsra · 9 months ago
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✧ STORMBRINGER CHUUYA AS YOUR GUY BSF IS .... (pt. 2)
✧ w/c: 588 ✧ content: drabbles & headcanons of cute things with stormbringer! chuuya
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☆ a shocked yet distasteful groan pulling from his throat when you show him a picture of a celebrity you find cute, grumbling about how your taste in men sucks ass. you didn't think he was jealous, just shocked at the creature he was looking at. though sometimes, you barely graze the envy on his face when you actually interact with another boy; especially if he's your type, because chuuya knows. still, he brushes your friendly smile with stupidity—because the dude you're talking with 'isn't even all that.'
☆ like having an annoyed caretaker, always keeping an eye out for you, rebuking your recklessness. just appalled that you have this much carelessness for your life on a day to day basis. but even though he'd scold you gently for anything stupid or clumsy you pull, you'd always find a gloved hand reaching out to you, providing support. either when you've stumbled, or you're about to jump off a ledge from even the smallest of heights.
☆ falling face first into the ground whilst trying to fight off one of the port mafia's powerful enemies because your shoelaces were untied. humilated, you found yourself sitting on a bench as chuuya unashamedly scolds you for your rookie mistake. knelt down as he still ties your shoes. "do you double knot your laces?" he'll ask, if you already said yes, the boy would finish one shoe with a tight squeeze, before gently patting your ankle to lace the other one, "well you better start triple knottin' em!"
☆ late night calls about the silliest things. chuuya would have his camera on in his pajamas, either mindlessly fiddling with his guitar, doing some chores, or cooking simply out of boredom. he'd rant about his day, the jewel marketing circulation, this crazy fuck named 'dazai', how much he admires his superior—kouyou, and his friends which call themselves 'the flags'. in return, you can tell him all the school gossip you've picked up on, new music you caught onto, your rants in your notes app.
☆ exchanging knowing side glances at each other when someone's being annoying or a dumb fuck. it's the kind of look two sassy girls would stare at each other with a secret disdain for the person in front of them.
☆ chuuya keeping a hair tie on his wrist for you and him only. at first, it was extra incase he lost his own hair tie, but soon, if you ever needed one, he always keeps extra on his wrist so you wouldn't have messy hair flying everywhere.
☆ taking unwanted photos of chuuya while he chases after you to delete them. sometimes, it'd be mid sneeze or the boy yawning carelessly. he definitely cares once you've did a close up shot where he looks like the epitome of a ginger leprechaun. he'd (try to) snatch your phone and now gives you the stinkiest side eye when you even try to point your phone at him.
☆ unconsciously resting an arm behind your shoulders when you're both sitting side by side. for chuuya, it provides a comforting stretch for his arms, and it feels safer knowing that he can just manuver you if there was ever an unexpected attack. for you, the fact that he just does it so casually makes you a nervous wreck.
☆ believing wholeheartedly that he's human. afterall, you wouldn't feel this much adoration for a code of strings, no? you always internally chide him if he thinks otherwise, but as friends, you thought it's better to give him a comforting pat on the back.
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✧ chocsra™
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hemmingshouse · 9 months ago
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the two of us / colby brock
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summary: in which colby finally realises he wants to be the only man in your life after only being your friend for way too long.
warnings: swearing, sarcastic!colby, jealous!colby, alcohol, mentions of sex, semi choking?, clubbing, being drunk, ass grabbing, kissing / making out
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
“if your heel snaps off once again i’m blaming it on your clumsiness instead of the alcohol this time.”
sam’s words made your head turn into his direction, eyes narrowing at the grinning boy as he exited the taxi right after you. you pretended to think of an answer, ticking your head to the side before sighing softly and sticking up your middle finger to flip him off as a small chuckle left your mouth.
as much as you hated to admit it, saturday nights combined with shots of strong liquor and going out in heels was never something you were good at. but since it was tara’s birthday you couldn’t stay behind, the raven haired girl claiming you had to look your best because she invited some of her old friends from college. ‘there might be one or two that would love to meet you’ was what she said when you asked you friend as to why she was so keen of you going out with her in the first place.
so here you were, making your way into the club after sighing softly and stacking your id back into your small shoulder purse. a staircase that was supposedly leading you to the actual club and bar made you groan a little, convincing you once more that the knee high heeled boots on your feet were not a good idea.
a large hand softly rested in the small of your back and you didn’t even have to check who was right next to you leading you up the staircase - his intoxicating cologne was enough for you to know colby was there to rescue you once again.
sending him a warm smile as the heat of his hand radiated through the thin material of your silky dress made your insides turn and turn your cheeks a slight shade of rosy blush. thank fuck it was dark in this club.
it had always been like this, ever since you got to know colby through your mutual friends tara and sam. the flirtatious comments, the small touches and the genuine warm smiles as you gazed into his eyes for a tad too long - you and colby had always felt at ease with one another.
one game of truth or drink once lead to him having you pinned against his bedroom door after on a livestream you answered who you wouldn’t mind kissing the shit out of. your honesty had lead you to believe that colby might’ve been feeling the same way after his mouth found yours and you made out for what felt like an eternity before sam was trying to find you for a game of beer pong and you and colby had never spoken about (or repeated) your actions after that.
it was times like these where your head was playing tricks on your heart and made you think that he still had a small amount of feelings for you somewhere within. that was up until he had a few drinks and shots and found a new girl to spend his time with.
“c’mon babes!” tara took your hand after colby had disappeared to get your group a few drinks, “luke is here and he wants to see you!”
tara, oh tara. she was a little devil in disguise sometimes. she was always trying to set you up with one of her friends and had even tried to make you and sam date before she was even aware sam felt like a non biological brother to you. it was nothing new and you always found it hilarious and adorable to see how happy tara was when she introduced you to your new potential flame.
especially after she found out colby let you down every time he brought a girl home. sure, he wasn’t aware of your slight feelings towards him but that didn’t mean it hurt less to see him surrounded by absolute babes.
“t,” you chuckled, “we have loads of ti-” you were cut off by tara tugging your hand a bit harder which you knew was a sign you needed to stop talking.
luke was gorgeous. the way his hair was messy, but still styled to a t. his white t-shirt clung to his torso in all the right places. warm and welcoming eyes looking down at you and a toothy grin curving his lips upward as he found out you were the one tara was yapping on about.
“oh,” you breathed, “hi. oh god.”
he chuckled at your words, extending his hand for you to shake so he was able to introduce himself. “hi y/n, i’ve heard a lot about you. i’m luke.”
his voice sent a good tingle down your spine, hand feeling warm against your palm as you shook his hand. “is this the part where i say i hope you only heard good things?”
luke shrugged his shoulders with a playful grin, “unless you wanna tell me about the bad things.”
in the meantime colby had made sure to get you your favourite mixed drink, his eyes trying to find yours as he looked around his group of friends.
tara took notice of this and she cleared her throat to get his attention. “y/n’s got a drink already, actually.” she pointed towards the corner of the club, where luke had just handed you your favourite drink.
tara absolutely knew what she was doing. she knew colby longer than you did and when she brought you into his life, tara was fully aware of the effect you had on him. colby obviously wouldn’t be colby if he wasn’t his flirtatious self, but the way he cared and looked out for you was something tara rarely saw when it came to colby and a girl.
colby followed her finger, blue eyes landing on you and the taller guy you were talking to. he licked his dry lips in the hope to cover how his mouth went extremely dry when he saw luke brush a piece of your hair behind your ear. “are you trying to set her up again?”
tara turned her head to meet colby’s eyes, an unreadable expression behind them. she asked him a question, already knowing the answer to it. “why? would that bother you?”
colby intently watched the pair in the corner of the club as he took a sip of his alcohol, trying to restain himself from downing the entire drink at once. he hated the way he felt when he saw you with other guys, and he didn’t know why.
fuck that, he knew exactly why.
colby always had a protective feeling over you ever since you two met multiple years back. he wrapped an arm around your shoulders when you were investigating with him and sam and something shook you to the core. he wiped off all your make-up after a night out because you were too drunk to do so and he hated how you felt waking up with that stuff on your face. he picked you up when a thunder storm was approaching and let you sleep in his bed, cuddled up to him because you couldn’t stand the loud cracks of thunder and lightning whirling around the silent house.
and somewhere along the way, when you started feeling secure and comfortable around him, he had caught some feelings for you as well. he didn’t wanted to own up to them because he knew how much your friendship meant to you (and him) and he was fucking terrified to lose you if he confessed how he was massively in love with you ever since he laid eyes on you when tara brought you along for the first time.
colby sighed deeply before he turned to meet tara’s gaze, narrowing his eyes at the dark haired girl. “you know what you’re doing,” he spoke up.
tara ticked her head to the side after she clinged her glass together with colby’s in a cheers. a grin danced on her face as she watched you and luke, “is it working?”
another sigh escaped colby’s lips before he downed the rest of the strong liquor in his glass, smashing it down onto the table the rest of the group sat around at. “it fucking is.”
tara’s mouth fell agape as colby confessed, not expecting the reaction he had just given her. she watched him make his way through the crowd of dancing bodies, nearing you and luke within a few seconds.
sam had stood up from where he was talking to jake, his eyes narrowing at the sight. “is colby finally doing something about his fucking feelings?”
tara nodded proudly, holding out her fist so sam could join her in a fistbump. “fucking finally.”
you chuckled at luke, nodding your head at something he had said. he was absolutely gorgeous but the way he behaved himself after only knowing you for around fifteen minutes made the hairs om your neck stand up straight. he was definitely not your type in any way, shape or form.
when you saw someone approach you two from the corner of your eye, you felt a relieved feeling take over your body. “oh my god,” you mumbled, genuinely happy as you looked into a pair of blue eyes. “hey colbs.”
colby’s body relaxed a bit when he noticed the uninterested look in your eyes after you looked from luke to him. he had made his way over to grab you by the arm and drag you through the crowd to make sure you knew the guy was an asshole, but when he noticed the distance between you and luke he knew enough. you were so not into this kid.
and so he decided he was in the mood to try something to make you tag along with him instead.
“hey babe,” he spoke up, biting the inside of his cheek to refrain himself from smirking too big, “i got you your drink, sorry it took so long.”
his eyes darted towards luke, who sat at the booth with a confused look painted across his face. he was too stunned to say anything as colby took your hand and pulled you from where you were seated onto the silk fabric of the couch.
you had no fucking clue what he was trying to do, but the amused look and smirk on colby’s face made you curious and genuinely excited for wherever the hell his plans were headed.
“oh that’s okay,” you chuckled slightly, smoothing out your short dress with your free hand before looking at him. “thank you, babe.”
the nickname fell from your lips before either of you could comprehend what you just said, a slight blush creeping up your neck. luke cleared his throat, standing up awkwardly from where he was sitting before. “shit bro, i thought she was single. apologies.”
colby inhaled a sharp breath as one of his hands rested itself on your waist, the silk of your dress feeling soft against his fingertips. he kept looking into your eyes to make sure whatever he was doing was fine by you, even when his hand dipped down to your ass and he gave it a slight squeeze. “she has always been mine.”
your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest, it must’ve been at a thousand beats per minute with the way colby was looking at you and keeping you close to his body.
drowning out everything that was going around you, you shook your head slightly as a chuckle fell from your lips. “is this tara’s work?” you asked him as your arms finally snaked around his neck, your body relaxing into his touch.
colby rolled his eyes playfully, one hand now reaching up to brush a sparkle of your eyeshadow off your cheek. “she got me good,” he admitted, softly pulling your body so your chest was flush against his. “although i was planning on doing this for quite a while actually.”
“is that so?” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear as your lips brushed the shell of his ear.
colby released a breathy sigh, “oh my god,” he laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief, “you’re something else.”
“are you gonna kiss me or do we need to play a truth or drink game once again before you make a move?”
your words were all it took for colby to softly dig his fingers deeper into your waist, other hand prettily resting around your throat. his thumb lightly pressed down onto the side of your skin, a breathy gasp leaving your mouth. “careful what you wish for baby, i can’t stop once i start.”
your mouth ran dry at his words, eyes looking into his. your hand wrapped itself around colby’s wrist, blinking your eyes slowly, “i’m not a quitter either.”
that was all it took for colby to squeeze your throat slightly and bring your face closer to his to nudge his nose against yours, “that makes the two of us then.”
his soft lips couldn’t wait to kiss yours, the taste of tequila mixed with beer making your head even more fuzzy than it already was as colby’s tongue slipped into your mouth to deepen the kiss.
your hands found themselves slipping underneath his shirt, right below the waistband of his jeans as you tried to give him some of his own medicine. your soft hands against his skin, so close to where he needed you the most made a soft groan fall from his lips.
“i hope you’re ready to make up for lost time as soon as we get back to my house.”
part 2 (x)
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
hiiii everyone! i decided to start writing again after what seemed like forever. send me a request if you want! will also write for sam if anyone’s interested :) also, part 2? ;)
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86espresso · 4 months ago
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obsessed jack mature [1k]
hitting you with all the ‘w’ questions whenever you get up from your spot and leave his side cold and empty.
“where are you going?”
“bathroom”
“why?”
“because? I need- to go-” pointing down there to emphasize
“when will you be back?”
he’s putting his face in the crook of your neck too often in front of audiences, mumbling about how much he loves you.
of course, your face burns with the amounts of affection he throws at you and you reciprocate because who doesn’t want a man thats wholly dedicated to them.
he can’t help but buy whatever you set your eyes on a little too long.
he’s always bending down to strap and unstrap your shoes.
always drinks from his second favorite mug- his favorite goes to you. you never thought it was weird, you would do the same for him if you had a favorite or second favorite something.
always keeping his hand in your back pocket while wandering through a crowd. his brothers and friends give him shit because you def walk him like a dog.
calling you in the middle of girls night, rutting his sweatpants against your bed and rasping out that he needs you. waiting for you to get home and punish him for ‘ruining’ your plans knowing full well that, to you, there’s no pleasure greater than watching your boyfriend fall apart in your hands.
him pointing at you after every goal he scores as if you did it.
carries you up all and every stairs because he can. no one bats an eye at your antics anymore because you were basically best friends that spend way too much time with each-other.
treats you like a princess / fucks you like a whore type guy. (need)
up awake wondering what you’re doing while he’s on roadies. he’s usually less bright during these because you aren’t there to greet him after good or bad games.
roadies are hard for you too, because jack spoils your so much that you forget basic things like opening doors for yourself and carrying in the groceries. you’re more on the clumsy side, so jack isn’t there to save you when you take a tumble and break your wrist. he’s on the first flight back home and goes straight to you in the ER, pale and flushed with worry even after you reassure him that you’re okay. he steps around you carefully for a few days after that, making sure you have everything you need.
it’s embarrassing how co-dependent you both are, but it’s another point that solidifies that you’re in it for the long run.
literally gets lost in your kisses. pulls you closer and closer til he cant and tilts his head to get better angles at drowning in you. loves the way your cup his face during the soft ones and melts every time you sigh in between them. loves how perfectly your lips slot against his. you love his adorable giggles when you’re smacking your stained lips all over his face.
would pass up a night with the boys in a heartbeat if you even hinted that you wanted him to stay.
knows you’re cold all the time so uses that as an excuse to remain attached to you as much as he can.
takes his baseball cap off his head and puts it on yours whenever he sees you.
never misses any of your important events. he always puts emphasis on how your career is as important as his.
posts you on his insta in obvious and subtle ways. sometimes it’s you entirely, other times it’s your shoulder in the corner of the picture, just barely showing the ‘86’ tattoo there. twitter went crazy when he posted pictures of you in your wag jacket right before the playoffs. one picture of your back turned, showing his name, and another with your front where the jacket is open and you’re wearing shades and a black tube top.
“you’re so pretty” and you’re in a fucked out state with your hair clinging to your face and neck, breathing erratic.
knows exactly what type of sex you want and when, and never fails to deliver. sometimes it’s fun and messy, teeth clashing, laughing when his head hits the wall. sometimes it’s hot and rough, edging you to tears and not holding back. sometimes the roles are reversed. sometimes he’s slow with you and takes his time showing your body love.
makes sure that his gifts to you are more thoughtful than expensive because he knows that thats what you prefer.
is absolutely terrified of tattoos but gets one for you anyway.
he would live between your tits forever if he could.
you can’t help the way your uterus explodes when he holds quinn’s son in his hands. he’s just so tiny in Jack’s arms and you would jump him then and there if there wasn’t a quietly sobbing quinn on your shoulder and his passed out wife beside you.
sends you pictures of different things from the store, wanting to buy what you prefer.
never takes off the necklace you gifted him.
you’re more of a hygiene-freak and he’s more of a neat-freak so he leaves the cleaning to you and you leave the laundry to him.
there’s so much unspoken love between you two, physical touch and acts of service are as important as the words you say to each other.
you put a hand to your heart whenever he catches your eyes during a game, so he knows that he has your full support no matter what.
you love nothing more than wrapping your hand around his throat while teasing him other than him doing the same to you.
wears your perfume and leaves your lipstick stains on his neck as they are.
watches you do everyday things with the most lovesick expressions, he’s actually obsessed.
like, people would make fun of him being so enamored by you but he would wear it like a crown.
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y2kuromi · 8 months ago
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✶ : ❛ 𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥 : seishiro nagi x reader
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˖ ִֶָ𐀔 contents ⋮ fluff. cw! mentions of alcohol. est rel. second person and third person pov. birthday fic cs i miss my loser
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nagi was no stranger to loneliness, rather he found it comfortable and familiar because he strongly believed people and parties were bothersome.
he was quite sure he was allergic to parties. they were loud, overcrowded and he could think of countless other ways to spend his birthday— playing valorant ranked, binge reading manga or better yet sleeping. alone.
that's how he’d always spent his birthday. he was free to do whatever he wanted and the presents his parents sent in the mail made up for their lack of presence. the sixth of may had always been just another day to him.
this year it was a day he wanted to spend with you.
he had to some degree, you’d let yourself into his apartment relatively early with intricately piped lemon cupcakes and a new controller for his playstation before reo dragged him off to keep him out of your way.
the small party you’d thrown left his apartment undeniably altered. to be frank, not much had changed. it was as messy as ever — with sparkly confetti adorning the floorboards and the bottles of soju cluttering the coffee table — but it felt less lonely, he felt less lonely
after he’d gotten over the initial shock of being showered with confetti and having his apartment filled with his friends, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips and his eyes shone brighter than the stars themselves.
the starry-eyed look he sent you as reo and isagi whisked him away for celebratory shots is filled with the purest form or love. it’s unwavering, and stronger than the lemon flavoured soju they sipped for hours.
it’s stronger than the frown that tugged at barou’s lips as he herded his intoxicated teammates outside and it’s stronger than the hangovers that would follow consequently in the morning.
seishiro’s apartment is empty now, save for the two of you curled up on the sofa. he seems to melt into you as your fingers comb through the messy mop of white hair against your thigh.
he’s never felt more comfortable than he is now with his head on your lap as he taps at the fps game he’s playing on his phone. his gray eyes are fixed on you as he clears the stage and a cutscene fills his screen.
he doesn’t think he’s ever put his phone down faster. the cushions on the sofa dip as he props himself up on his elbows, leaning forward to close the space between you.
“headshot” he hums, pressing his lips languidly to your temple.
you laugh — it's pretty, comfortable and you look absolutely breath-taking doing it. his heavy lidded gaze falls to your lips and he doesn’t hesitate to press a lazy kiss to the corner of your mouth. seishiro always seems to melt when he kisses you
he wasn't the type of boyfriend who would publicly whirl you around and kiss you breathless in front of a crowd — though he would always find you in one — he was still a little clumsy and awkward when it came to love but it was starting to become as easy as breathing.
he blinks at you sleepily, undeniably kiss drunk, and far more intoxicated by the sweet scent of your perfume than the blur of lemon soju lingering on his lips as he pulls away.
“thanks for throwing me a party” he murmurs — a low drawl that reverberates against your skin and fills the space between you.
“glad you liked it, sei” you smile, in a way that’s so soft it makes him want to lean in and kiss you again. he finds he’s too tired and settles for laying his head down on your lap again.
he could care less about the blinking ‘you lose’ screen on his discarded phone as he feels your fingers continue their ministrations on his scalp
it’s adorable, the way he’s fighting to keep his eyes open — letting them drift closed ever so slightly when your thumb brushes softly against his cheek. he basks in the warmth you radiate before you slowly attempt to peel yourself off the sofa
“where you going?” he murmurs drowsily, gray doe-eyes blinking owlishly at you. his brows are furrowed slightly and his lips tug together in a makeshift pout
“home” you sigh, “it’s pretty late, i should probably head out soon” you can't help the laughter spilling from your lips at the quiet, sleepy protests that leave his pouty lips.
"stay the night" he frowns, tracing messy, wobbly hearts on the bone of your encased wrist. “ts still my birthday, you can’t leave me yet”
his eyes shine with a silent plea and he gazes up at you from your lap with warmth that rivals the sun when its rays kiss your shoulders. it’s convincing — enough that you find yourself softening and sinking back into the sofa.
“okay, i’ll stay” you say quietly. seishiro sighs when your fingers comb through his hair again and you know it’s less because he’s well past tired and more because as far as birthdays went, this is the best he’d ever had.
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© Y2KUROMI 2024. please do not plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.
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ln444 · 1 year ago
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spider-man!lando
cw: strangers to friends to lovers, uni au, idiots in love, fluff fluff fluff, slight angst; comfort/hurt (reader comforting lando), sad and tired lando:::(((((, mention of blood/wounds/bruises.
words: ~1,5k
notes: hii i'm finally back:D, i've been thinking about abt spiderman lando for weeks now omg!!! anyway it took me so long to write this pls don't hesitate to leave feedbacks😭 enjoy<3
playlist (to listen to for a better experience !!!): daylight by harry styles, yellow by coldplay, sparks by coldplay (my fav song in the whole world)
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lando norris. the adorable, clumsy guy you spot every day in class. he's always in his own world, snoozing on his desk and consistently late –somehow managing to still have good grades. you've been watching him for a few weeks now, totally fascinated by the curly boy. a goofy smile always creeps onto your face when he does something silly like accidentally bumping into people and mumbling apologies or drooling on his notes while falling asleep in class.
oh, you definitely have a small crush on lando norris — or maybe even a big one. your mind has been filled with all sorts of ideas on how to approach him –daydreaming about it during class or as you're trying to fall asleep at night, finding yourself staring at your ceiling with a stupid grin, lost in thoughts of that adorable guy you've been keeping an eye on.
today, you stayed a bit longer in class, diligently recopying your notes from the previous lecture. however, you weren't alone; a dozing lando occupied a nearby table, blissfully drooling on his notes. concentration became a struggle as you wrapped up quickly, sighing as you stole glances at the dreamy boy. rapidly packing your bag without a sound, you approach him, taking a moment to admire the sleepy boy, a smile instantly gracing your lips as your heart melts. inhaling deeply, you find the courage to gently tap his shoulder.
"hey," you softly whisper, lando whimpering and stirring slightly. patiently, you wait, hoping his eyes will finally open. when they don't, a suppressed giggle will finally open, and you tap his shoulder again, a bit more insistently this time.
"wake up!" you whisper-scream, a blush coloring your cheeks as a hint of regret surfaces –maybe it was too much, maybe you should have let him sleep, uncertain if he'd appreciate your wake-up call. his eyes eventually flutter open, struggling to grasp the situation. once he does, he clears his throat, quickly fixing his posture and adjusting his glasses. the sight makes your heart feel like it might burst out of your chest.
"class is over," you say sofly, standing in front of him, resisting the urge to run your hand through his messy hair.
"what?" he groans, still attempting to shake off his sleepy state. "already?" he glances around in confusion, seeing the empty room before turning to you, finally becoming aware of the one who put him out of his sleep and his cheeks slightly turns red.
"do you need notes?" you ask, eager to have a conversation with him. the pink on your cheeks persists since he opened his eyes, intensifying as he looks at you with big, confused and sleepy eyes. his gaze shifts down to his notes, damp with drool, and suddenly his cheeks burns. clearing his throat once more, he nervously scratches the back of his head.
"oh... right... uh," his eyes return to you, hesitantly meeting yours, and you stand there, fighting the smile on your face. "i guess i could use some of your notes," he chuckles nervously, "if that's okay for you, of course!" he quickly adds, causing your heart to race dangerously close to exploding because of how cute he is.
"of course, you can give it back to me tomorrow," you smile, your stomach tightening with the anticipation of talking to him again.
"thank you," he softly says, still clearly in a sleep state and a bit lost, but he manages to offer you a shy smile that almost brings tears to your eyes.
"see you tomorrow, then," after giving him a final smile, you turn around, hearing a small "see ya!" behind you before leaving the class, feeling happier than ever.
lando runs a hand through his hair, attempting to process what just happened. conversations with people at uni is rare for him, making it a surprise when someone approaches. he gazes at the notes you handed him, lost in his thoughts for a few more minutes before reality hits him—he just embarrassed himself in front of a pretty girl.
"fuck..." a groan filled with frustration and embarrassment escapes his lips as he buries his face in his hands, his cheeks bruning.
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since that day, you and lando start having study sessions, usually at the library or in relaxed coffee shops. the transition is a bit of a mystery; lando returned your notes, and somehow, conversations about the lecture led you to offering help, which he accepted without hesitation.
your study sessions became more and more friendly, both of you getting comfortable in each other's company. you couldn't be happier, realizing that you get the chance to see him every day and appreciate the subtle details, like the way he crunches his nose when he is thinking or how his glasses slide down when he attentively listens to your explanations.
it's the way lando consistently gives you his full attention, not just during study sessions, but also when you share bits about yourself, your interests, or even random stuff you've seen on the internet or the way he never forgets to bring two snacks, always excited to share it with you and making sure you're eating and drinking well. despite his lateness, he puts effort to be present, sincerely apologizing and making it up to you everytime.
you somehow got used to his habit of arriving late, accepting that it's a part of who he is. even though frustration and questions nag at you occasionally, you never found the courage to ask and feel like you don't have the right to say anything. of course, there have been moments when you were mad, waiting for over an hour, but you're way too whipped for him to stay mad forever.
just like that, you find yourself slowly falling for lando. what started as a silly crush turned into something more profound; it's evident when butterflies go wild in your stomach at the sight of him, and your heart races unusually fast whenever he smiles at you.
lando can't quite understand how you've become a constant presence in his thoughts. the frequency of your hangouts has become unexpectedly high, something unusual for him. being spider-man and a student was already challenging enough; adding a social life seems nearly impossible. he tried before –having friends, attending parties, socializing –but it never lasted, the fatigue and busyness making it hard to keep up.
with you, everything feels different for lando. falling this hard was unexpected from the moment he first asked you to study with him. slowly, he starts making time for you, always finding a way to see you, even if study sessions became an excuse. you became a ray of sunshine in his life, bringing light to his otherwise tiring days. whenever he feels miserable, a glance at you makes everything feels right.
beyond study sessions, you both start having dates –that's how you secretly both call your hangouts. lando takes you to the arcade, introducing you to his favorite games, while you share cherished spots in your favorite park; sitting there, watching swans, you engage in lighthearted conversations, while your hearts secretly beat for each other, missing the subtle starstruck gazes and the way your cheeks burn when your hands accidentally brush against each other.
the worst part for lando is finding himself thinking about you even in the midst of fighting villains, getting distracted more than he should. it frustrates him how he can't shake you from his mind, even when he's spider-man. at first, he hated himself for it, attempting to ignore his growing feelings. but it become undeniable the day you smiled at him with the most sincere and loving expression. in that moment, he realized he was already too deep into it and let himself drown deeper into the feeling.
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letting out a frustrated whimper, you bury your head in your hands. you've been attempting to finish this essay for hours now, but thoughts of the curly-haired boy persistently invade your mind. you've tried to push him out, if only for a moment, to focus on this stupid homework, but he always finds a way back into your thoughts. being stuck in your small apartment due to villains doesn't make the situation any easier.
sighing for the umpteenth time tonight, you stare at the almost white screen of your pc, hoping that motivation will miraculously appear. amidst your frustration, a subtle noise catch your attention. you turn around, your eyes scanning outside. you notice nothing out of the ordinary, brushing it away and convincing yourself it was just a passing bird. you had bigger problems anyway.
as you try to refocus on your work, the persistent noise grows louder, intensifying your unease. determined to dismiss it, you turn around for a second time, only to be shocked by the unexpected sight of lando. his face is covered with bruises, and he's struggling to climb the last steps of the fire escape stairs. reacting quickly, you jump from your chair, urgently guiding your steps as you open the window to lend him a hand.
"oh my god lando!" you choke on your own split, and lando lets out a pained groan, fighting to maintain his balance as he relies on you. with careful effort, he makes it to the sofa, collapsing upon it. you rush to his side, cupping his bruised face, your heart sinking as you take a look at the injuries. the sight nearly brings you to tears, a mix of concern and distress filling your stomach.
lando looks drained, the effort to keep his eyes open visible on his face. despite the weakness, he manages to maintain an unwavering gaze locked onto yours. the pain you're reading in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine, making your heart heavy.
"lando... what happened?" you say softly, your voice betraying the dryness in your throat. his response is delayed, taking a minute for lando to found the strength to answer. throughout this time, his hands grip your shirt, and his eyes remain fixed on yours, unbroken since he arrived.
"just a stupid fight... i'm fine," his voice is deep and weak, feeding your concern. despite the fatigue, he manages a small, gentle smile.
"what do you mean you're fine? are you kidding me?" you try to keep your voice soft, not wanting to add tension. "let me take care of you first, then you're going to tell me everything," with a sigh, you stand up, but lando's hands on your wrist stops you. you can't miss the painful groan that escapes him.
"i'm fine... i promise," he says weakly, his words carrying a weariness that tugs at your concern. "you're not fine, lando!" you voice unintentionally rises, a reflection of your worry, but you regret it the moment you lock your eyes with lando's softened gaze.
your hand instinctively reaches for his cheek, your thumb gently tracing the lines of his bruised skin. "it's okay, let me take care of you, please?" you implore, your voice adopting a softer tone. lando's heart seems to respond, warmth spreading as he relaxes, gently releasing your wrist.
"okay," he mumbles, too tired to resist, and you hurry to the bathroom to get your aid kit. returning swiftly, you find an exhausted lando, battling fatigue. your heart tightens, and you take a deep breath, holding back tears. lando starts regretting coming to you, the worry on your face making him feel guilty. as you come back, without a warning, you put an arm around him –and he's surprised that even in this awful state, you manage to make his heart beat faster. "let's get you on the floor," you gently suggest, doing your best to avoid hurting him. with a few soft whimpers, lando makes it to the ground, and you sit in front of him, getting the closer you can.
you gently take his chin between your fingers, inspecting the wounds again, unable to get over the extent of his injuries. lando feels his cheeks burn from the closeness and attention, his heart racing. without wasting any time, you start cleaning the bruises, handling him carefully.
your eyes shift to his white shirt, now stained with fresh blood, revealing notable marks underneath. a gasp escapes you, and you look at lando, your hands gripping the bottom of his shirt. "can i?" you timidly ask in a quiet voice, and lando don't hesitate to nod, trusting you more than anyone. you proceed to gently take off his shirt, ensuring not to cause him more pain. he winces, and your eyes fall on his wounded body, your hand instinctively covering your mouth. "oh my god..." you fingers trace the big and deep wounds, and lando watches you with remorseful eyes.
you don't add anything, wanting to take care of everything as soon as possible so he can finally rest. a comfortable silence fills the room as you begin with his face, gently cleaning and bandaging the wounds.
on the other hand, lando can't tear his eyes from you, enjoying your pouty expression because of your concentration. occasionally, he closes his eyes when you touch a sensitive area, his lips parting to release small groans. you find yourself apologizing each time, looking at him with sympathetic eyes.
you take a second look at his blood-covered body, and a million of questions race through your mind. this can't be a simple fight. lost in your thoughts, you don't notice lando's gaze or the flush on his cheeks due to your intense staring of his chest. he's about to call your name, but you're quicker than him.
"are you hiding something, lando?" you gently speak, your hands cupping his face with tenderness. you give him a soft look that seeks not just the truth but a shared vulnerability. lando opens his mouth to respond, but the words gets stuck in his throat, caught between the desire to tell you everything and the fear of exposing too much.
"i..." he starts, the weight of unspoken words evident in his eyes. sensing his struggle, you lean in closer, a soft and reassuring forming on your lips. your fingertips dance gently over his cheek. "you know you can tell me everything, right ?" you whisper, your voice filled with understanding. lando don't even dare to blink, drawn into the sincerity in your gaze.
without hesitation, he closes the gap with a tender kiss. your mind momentarily pauses, trying to process the situation. slowly, you kiss him back, feeling the heaviness of his heart in the softness of the kiss.
pulling back slowly, your eyes meet again, and there is a change in lando's expression. the warmth is replaced by a hint of concern, even sadness, making you rise an eyebrow curiously; "wh-"
"i'm spider-man."
his words hang in the air, and it takes a moment for you to process, leaving lando feeling like he's on the verge of a breakdown. completely petrified, he continues, "i understand if you don't want to see me anymore... i-"
"lando," you try to cut him off, but he's panicking, his eyes welling up, and it tugs your heart. "god, i'm so stupid," the instant regret hits him, he keeps mumbling, expressing his fear of messing everything up. it becomes too much for him, and he bursts into tears. without hesitation, you wrap your arms around him, holding him as tight as you can.
"hey, you're okay. it's okay, i'm here," you softly whisper in his ear, your hand gently rubbing his back. the sound of his sobs makes your heart ache, as if it's breaking into pieces. "i'm so tired," his voice is muffled, but you can hear all the pain and exhaustion in it. your stomach tightens, feeling your own eyes burn as you try to hold back the tears.
you let him cry in your arms for a moment, letting him take it all out, whispering sweet and reassuring words in his ears. your hand hasn't left his hair, stroking it gently. you feel him finally calm down, his sobs getting quieter.
he finally decide to look up, meeting your eyes and the sight breaks your heart; his eyes are puffed and red, accentuated by his bandaged bruises. you immediately grab his face, overwhelmed by a sudden rush of empathy and affection.
"do you still want me? even if i'm spider-man," his voice is soft, and you could feel all the exhaustion in it.
"of course, lando, why wouldn't i?" you reply without any second thought, sincerity evident in your eyes, softening lando's heart.
"i don't know... i'm always late and... tired," his voice is weak and hesitant, and you wish he'd stop talking and just rest.
"you're always late, but you're always here. you always do your best to make it." you reassure him, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer with a soft smile. "it's okay to be tired, especially with your life, you should never apologize for that." your hand finds its way to his hair, "even when you're tired, you find the strength to take care of me and spend time with me. and for me, that means a lot," you gently stroke his hair, comforting him.
lando's eyes remain locked onto yours, caught in the sincerity they hold, and he swears his heart could explode at any moment just from hearing your words.
"you're so good to me..." he says in a whisper, pulling you into a quick but sweet kiss that makes both of your hearts melt. "of course, you deserve it," you whisper back, stealing a other kiss. "let me finish taking care of you, and then you can finally rest." you don't give him the time to complain, pulling back to resume cleaning his wounds.
after what felt like an eternity, you finish bandaging the last wound, looking up to find an exhausted lando. he fell asleep multiple times but insisted on staying awake until you finish. without wasting a minute, you put your arm around him to help him up, struggling to guide him to the bed where he manages to use his last drops of strength to remove his pants. once he's laid on the bed, you turn around to clean up the bandages on the floor, but lando immediately stops you, pulling you down.
"don't go," he whispers, and you smile, laying beside him without any hesitation, welcomed by his warm embraced.
you gaze at the sleepy boy beside you, your fingers gently ghosting his cheek.
"thank you," he says softly, and the sincerity in his words resonates. you offer him a loving smile, putting your lips on his for a passionate kiss. you manage to pull away just in time before lando succumbs to the sandman.
in that moment, it hits you—the boy you've fallen in love with is spider-man. a proud smile spreads across your face as you look at the peacefully sleeping lando beside you.
"i'm so proud of you," you whisper, determined to repeat those words to him tomorrow and every single day after that.
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tysm for reading! don't hesitate to leave a feedback if you liked it<3
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angelofsmalldeaath · 7 months ago
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untitled — a.h.b.
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cw: mentions of being drunk, alcohol, suggestive content
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“you have a good evening?” he fails to stifle a grin and holds her close as she tries to straddle him. it’s awkward—her heels digging into his knee, her dress riding up her thigh. hair stuck to her lip gloss.
“it was fantastic!” she declares, nodding with such excitement that it sets her earrings swinging wildly. “you should have been there, it would have been funner–fuck, more fun. i dunno, is funner a word?”
his grin turns wider, she puts her head on his shoulder and lets him cradle her close. “it is if you want it to be. and who’d take care of you if i got drunk with you, hmm?”
“oh, i’m fine!” airily, she waves her hand away. he narrowly avoids the smack. “just…” she lowers her voice, a hushed whisper, a secret about to be divulged, “how do i take off my heels? the buckles are veryyyyyyy complicated. it’s stupid.”
he can’t control the snort that leaves him then. she looks so adorable—trying so hard to keep her eyes open while so obviously being sleepy. trying so hard to convince him she’s not drunk, when she is, indeed, bladdered. 
when he gets on his knees by her feet, she attempts a protest.
“wh—”
“let’s get your heels off you, okay?” 
“mmm, and after that?” he feels her hands through his hair, nails against his scalp and the nape of his neck in what is meant to be boldly flirtatious. “what comes off after that.”
if she weren’t so drunk, it would have worked on him. 
his hair fall in his eyes when he looks up at her. he can almost predict what he’s going to see—half-lidded sleepy eyes and messy hair and glitter all over her face. 
“your make-up,” he deadpans, rubs his thumb over her knee. “then your clothes, and then the blankets. so i can put you to bed.”
she pouts, sticks her tongue out at him and blows a raspberry. “old man! look at you, you’re ready for bed at…uh…”
“midnight? yeah, real old man of me,” he grins. 
he lets her try again, trace a finger through his hair and down to his temple and then his jaw. when he closes his eyes and smiles, she traces that too—her thumb over his lips, making his smile grow wider.
“pretty as you are,” he places a small kiss on the palm of her hand, “i need to take you to bed.” and before she can make another little comment, he quickly interrupts, “so you can sleep, you pervert.”
“boooo, boringgggg!” she stands up all of a sudden, his heart picks up when she stumbles, trips over her discarded heels and lands, once again, right into his arms. something about the whole thing is apparently hilarious, it sets her giggling once more. 
“d’you wanna know a secret?” she whispers once she's managed to stop laughing, “c’mere, c’mere!”
just to entertain her, he sits on the settee, then carefully sits her down on his lap. “go on then.”
“no, clooooser,” she pokes him in the chest. it barely has any effect, “it’s very very secret!”
he grabs her finger, the one that’s just poked him, and brings it to his mouth to kiss the knuckle. then he leans closer until their noses are almost touching.
“go on, tell me your secret.”
“so, it’s…it’s…” he sees her eyes go from sleepy to twinkly in a matter of seconds, and then she leans, pressing a kiss square on his lips, giggling away at his surprised face. “gotcha!”
his jaw drops, cheeks flaming from being caught so off guard. it’s not often he gets shy around her—not anymore—but something about the way she looks at him, like he hung the moon just for her, leaves him speechless.
he holds her by the waist so she won’t squirm away from him, still laughing—her lipstick is fully gone now, only smudges of it remain on the corners of her lips, her eyeliner is half smudged and the glitter on her eyelids is all around her eyes. and she is, without a doubt, the prettiest girl he’s seen in his entire life. 
“you’re staring,” she whispers, biting her lip shyly and he can’t resist kissing her again—a small kiss, a real kiss. 
“you’re gorgeous.” 
“are we going to bed then?” she throws him a clumsy wink.
“we are…” he nods, “so you can go to bed—”
“booooo, boring old man!” she pokes him in the chest again, right over his heart. the adorable crease between her brows is back, the one she thinks makes her look serious and angry.
once again he grabs the finger, kisses the knuckle. “you’ll love me in the morning, trust me.”
“i’ll love you always,” she says as a matter of fact, nodding sagely. 
if he could melt right there, he would. instead, he hugs her tight and holds her close, her head on his chest. then he kisses her head, lingering for as long as he can, and carries her to bed.
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alwaysshallow · 1 year ago
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— gorgeous, part 2
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader
previous part and next part
A man's attention, charmed by clumsiness. You truly hate it. (2,7k)
Read on AO3
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The second time you see him? Two weeks later, a routine visit.
He doesn't call you at all, to ask something, he doesn't text you either; Bernie said that he reacted with a thumbs up reaction on a reminder about the visit, which made you chuckle. He seemed like that type since he wasn't talkative in person. You wouldn't accuse him of being super witty in text, he was just dry.
But, he would probably text if something was wrong with that adorable, orange stray cat that he practically adopted – so, you were pretty calm.
Control visit was necessary to check if the bone was healing good, if the kitty didn't need anything more.
And, besides, it was your chance to break the ice once again, and talk to him again. It was frustrating how you wanted it, but that's the thing about you – you could bring the best from everyone, make them talk, so what the hell was the matter with that incredibly tall, British guy? It was a mystery all along, and you were more than eager to solve it, especially when his cat was your patient.
Everything just needed to... work. You had to make it work, to get through that tough facade that he had because that was a facade, right? No one was this... composed, cold. Professional.
At least you thought.
You peeked out of your room again; the corridor was empty, you couldn't see even a damn soul that looked like him – and by that, you meant that scary skull mask that he had on the last time you saw him, since you didn't get to see his real face beneath it. He was already seven minutes after the time he was supposed to be in, and if he would make it fifteen, you were sure to close that clinic. Somehow, it was again a late visit, and you weren't so eager to wait for him forever.
Every minute counted when you were hungry, and you literally dreamed about a warm bath coming along with episode of Criminal Minds.
"Sorry. We had... problems." you heard, as the door opened finally after another two minutes; there he was, but... different.
The voice and his eyes were the only things that you recognized because everything else was just... different. He was without his skull mask and balaclava, looking perfectly normal, like he wasn't the guy that scared the shit out of Bernie two weeks ago. Black hoodie, jeans in the same color, white sneakers – his figure was even more muscled in those clothes, instead of military ones.
And you could see his face, what was probably the best thing about it all. Messy blond hair, not long, but long enough to curl a bit under the humid weather, face that had a big scar at the right cheek, and a couple of smaller ones in the rest.
You couldn't tell where exactly they were, as his eyebrow automatically arched in a question, and you felt your cheeks burning a little, so you started staring at the top of your shoes instead.
For fuck's sake, he was blonde.
Out of whole palette, he had to be a motherfucking blonde. The irony of it all striked you in full force; you thought he was brunette, just because of his mysterious demeanor. Like, maybe it was stereotypical way of thinking, but brunettes always were... different than blondes.
Yet, that one seemed to be the famous "exception" of the group; blonde that wasn't a talker, blonde that seemed like he's keeping everything to himself.
"You look like you've seen a ghost." he murmured, snapping you out of your thoughts.
One of his hand in his jeans, another holding the transporter – shortly after, he put it on the table.
You wish you could have Bernie here for support in that moment, but she had to leave earlier than she was supposed to – family business or something, but she needed that, so you just gave her a free time. She was too precious for her own good.
So, you were all alone with that interesting man. Maybe it was for the better? Less people, he could talk freely, he knew you a bit, and you really hoped for more scrapes of information from him. Every one counted. "Mm, no. You just look different" you sighed, seeing a glint of amusement in his deep brown eyes, but you said nothing about it, as you approached the transporter, seeing sleeping kitten in it.
You automatically smiled. "How is she?"
"Besides the times that leg hurt her more when she tried to walk or stand fully on her paws, she's good, I think. She wasn't really eating for a day or two, but I... managed." he said, his expression stern, when his gaze was darting between you and his cat, when you were examining her.
It seemed like everything was alright when you were touching her broken area, but you had to do an x-ray, so as the last time, you informed him and did your thing.
You came back a few minutes later, already with a scan so you wouldn't make it more awkward than it should be. Seemed alright, that x-ray; not too bad for a stray that was rescued and probably didn't trust Simon like normal cat would do, adopted one, not betrayed by humans. Involuntailry, you looked at her again, as she licked her owner's hand, when he played with her through a cat transporter.
A little smile crept up on your lips, as you observed that scene.
Something was making that big guy soft after all, you thought.
"It seems like everything is healing pretty good" you started "it's still early to let her walk on her own, so you have to be careful still, even if..." you didn't finish your sentence, as you tripped.
You didn't even realize what caused it, but you felt embarassement already, thinking that if you will hit something in result, will put you in a grave, and you probably you won't show your face to that man ever again.
Clumsiness? Your second name, so to speak.
Nothing like that happened though; a firm hand gripped your arm in place, preventing you from falling, and as you looked up at Simon, his stern, yet calm expression, you just felt like a blush is forming on your cheek. His hair was falling comfortably on his forehead, as he hummed, like he was considering something, when your gazes locked in, his eyes meeting your grey ones. Curiosity killed the cat, but you wanted to brush his hair with your fingers, just to see if they were as fluff as it seemed.
It also seemed like you were keeping eye contact with him for twenty minutes, when in total it was five seconds, when you snapped out of it and backed off before doing something more stupid than tripping – but hell, it was worth it for a close view like that.
"Careful over here." he mumbled in low voice, crossing his arms over his chest.
"...right, thank you. I don't wanna end like up like your cat, who's gonna treat her then?" you raised your eyebrow, trying to sound amused, you even made a joke (bad one) – you wanted his attention anywhere, but not on your cheeks right now. "Back to what I was saying, even if she wants to move more, you can't let her overwork herself, right? So it won't get worse."
He nodded.
You were grateful he wasn't teasing you about that blush on your cheeks; not only it would make your cheeks go redder, but it would be utterly awkward, and you didn't want that. Not at least after the time when you made a proper conversation with Simon.
First one – you noted – because that conversation that was two weeks later didn't even count as a conversation – more like, exchange, something professional. Right now, it was professional, sure, but it also seemed... comfortable enough for you to not stress what are you supposed to say, or if he's gonna beat you up.
You examined the cat again, searching if something was wrong, or if she needed anything else, but she seemed... taken care of perfectly, though. Her furr was so different from the last time; now, fluffy, she was being well-fed, you could tell. It cherished your heart, truly, it always was a good feeling when a stray found perfect home.
No matter if perfect home was in 6'4 giant with perfect, blonde hair, brown eyes that could make you drown in them easily. No matter if that giant didn't want to talk at all, or he was just reserved to strangers like you. A true wonder, that man – you wondered if he was like that to his friends too, because he had to have someone, right?
"Okay. You're good to go" you said after a few minutes, as you started to clean the room; at least to sanitize things that needed to be done, you couldn't leave it all on Bernie, when she's gonna open up the next day.
"How much?"
You raised an eyebrow, chuckling. "Nothing."
"Nothing? $50 will do?"
"Jesus Christ, Mr. Harris" you groaned, turning to him, as you continued cleaning, going to the very end of it. "You dropped $90 two weeks ago, which is way too much, and..."
"Thought it was average prices for something like that." he interrupted you; for a few seconds, your gazes locked, and you could swear that you've seen a glint of interest.
Have you catched it somehow? You couldn't help but wonder, when he was counting the money, taking bills out of his wallet; you took only $5, not accepting the other $45. Not only he was overpaying for a routine visit, something that you adviced him to do, but he was annoying about it. His look spoke volumes, as eyebrow was cocked, but he just accepted the things as you put them, without saying anything else.
"It's just routine visits." you muttered when he walked out of the examination room, and you closed it swiftly. "Not something to pay for."
"I'm just appreciating your work. Late one, to be exact, no one's staying as many hours as you do, 's all." he explained, observing how you closed the front door too. You knew he wanted to ask something, just by that look of his, but he wasn't saying anything else.
"I'm good, no need to do that" you smiled weakly. "Part of the job, I love it too much to not stay over my hours."
"Mhm."
He nodded to you, which probably meant goodbye, considering that after that, he walked away. So, despite he couldn't see it anymore, you nodded back, and got into the car, thinking. It was a good conversation, you tried to tell yourself – he showed his face too, pretty one. Not to mention, he catched you in embarrassing moment, when you were about to fall, so...
You rolled your eyes, sighing. Why that occupied your mind? It wasn't like something was about to happen between you two, yet, thoughts that you had looked like one of a schoolgirl that has a crush. Pretty embarrasing.
What was more embarrassing though, was the fact that your car wouldn't fucking start, no matter how much you cursed under your breath. You tried multiple times turning the key in the ignition, and yet, it wouldn't start, it sounded worse than your grandma with asthma. Having no knowledge about cars that was going beyond changing oil and such sucked because you had no idea what to do right now.
Calling your mechanic would be a good option, but Celia wouldn't pick up, you were certain. Doing something on your own? Not a chance, you'd probably fuck it up even more than it already was. Leaving your car here seemed like the best options, but your apartment was a bit far, and walking to it in the middle of the night...
"You want for that battery to die badly, huh?"
That familiar voice made you jump a bit, and turn to no one but Simon, who looked at you with his piercing eyes, a transporter in his hand. You couldn't help but wonder, how the fuck you didn't hear his walk? He was, like, a motherfucking giant, and in theory he should have a tough walk, the one that you usually hear. Heavy one.
But no, no. This guy was sneaky as a fucking cat, and his swift, not noticeable movements were just preparing you to have a heart attack.
"Pardon?" you raised your eyebrow, looking at him.
"If you're gonna turn your key multiple times" he leaned a bit closer "you're gonna kill your battery. It's better to wait 'till morning."
You hummed in response, as you looked at keys in your hand; he was right, it was no need for you to try, you had maybe a one in a million chance for that beast to start. So, you stepped out of the car after rolling your windows up, and you locked it.
"Better to call the mechanic?" a sigh came out of your lips, as you adjusted your bag that was freely on your shoulder.
"Probably. Wouldn't want to make it more of a mess" he shrugged, keeping the pace of the walk with you. "Livin' far from here?"
His deep voice, with a British accent to it, made you shiver at his question; it was getting to you. And when you crossed your grey eyes with his? It was hard to not trip again, even if it was a pretty straight road.
Was it a little too forward to say that you were a sucker for different accents?
"A bit." you replied. "Not my first rodeo with walking from here, so I have my shortcuts, you know."
Simon raised his eyebrow.
"Not your first?"
"Sometimes my car does little tricks, you know. Like today. So, I walk, what other choice do I have?"
"How long it's been since you checked your car?" he asked, after a few seconds.
You let out a chuckle, as you tried to remember when you actually visited Celia. A few months? Six? More or less, even if your mechanic actually was reminding you that you can hop in every once in a while. It's not like you were always busy, you could just have a day off, since you were your own boss, or you could just close earlier.
It was just... a fuck up, from your side, honestly. It wasn't your smartest thing you've done, but shit happened sometimes.
"Around six." you managed to mumble with a bit of shame, as he gave you a look.
"And for six months you occasionally walk to home in the middle of the night? Instead of, I don't know" he snorted, rolling his eyes "maybe going to mechanic?"
You huffed.
"You make it sound worse than it already is" you pointed out, amused, despite the fact that he practically called you out.
He was right, and you knew it very well.
"Although" you started talking again "it's the perfect scenario for tragedy, you know. Kidnapping, being murdered in those bushes. Really."
Simon, before completely disappearing from your sigh in some alley, gave you a polite look that spoke volumes about what you said. Yet, he didn't dare to disagree with you, he probably thought of that too.
The headlines in newspaper would be funny. Vet died on her way home or Mysterious disappearance of Addison Frost. That second one sounds like a book or something – you thought.
"Take care, once again. Would hate for Sparkles to have other vet." you managed to hear, when you parted your ways, walking in other direction to your homes.
Sparkles.
So, it's the name of his cat.
You smiled under your nose, as you thought how adorable it is to name an animal like that. What was his inspiration, though? Has he looked to ideas on the internet, or he had it in mind? He didn't seem like he was a big softie and just decided on that. Maybe he had an inspiration?
You couldn't help but wonder, thinking that probably Simon Harris will occupy your mind for a little longer, even if he was just a client.
A client that you managed to talk to, despite his cold demeanor.
Seemed like a reward to you.
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httpsdana · 18 days ago
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can u do a Joao one that includes the prompt from fluff number 2 and playful/teasing number 30 I love ur writing sm 💋
Golden Moments~João Félix
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・❥・prompt list
・❥・masterlist -> part 2
・❥・who I write for
2-“You talk in your sleep, you know?last night, you kept saying my name.”
30-“I made you breakfast, but it’s probably terrible, so just pretend it’s good.”
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The soft glow of morning sunlight seeped through the sheer curtains, casting a gentle, golden light across the room. The quiet hum of birds outside the window provided a serene backdrop, blending seamlessly with the subtle rustling sounds coming from the kitchen.
y/n stirred slightly, the faint scent of something cooking slowly rousing her from the cocoon of sleep. Her body remained cocooned in the plush warmth of the duvet, but her senses were waking up, catching onto the comforting familiarity of João’s presence nearby.
The muffled clink of plates followed by a sharp curse made her smile sleepily. She could picture him there, his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips forming that adorable pout he always had when he was determined to get something right. João wasn’t much of a cook, but it seemed like he was making an exception today.
She shifted onto her side, hugging the pillow closer, inhaling the lingering scent of his cologne that clung to the fabric. Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep just as João entered the room.
He was balancing a tray in his hands, his tousled hair falling into his eyes, wearing a sheepish yet proud grin. He looked like he had been up for a while, dressed in a loose shirt and sweatpants, but there was an air of nervous anticipation about him.
“I made you breakfast,” he announced, carefully setting the tray down on the bed, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and uncertainty. He hesitated for a second, rubbing the back of his neck. “But it’s probably terrible, so just pretend it’s good.”
His eyes flicked up to meet hers, his expression playful but with a touch of genuine concern, as if he really thought he’d managed to ruin something as simple as breakfast.
She pushed herself up onto her elbows, letting the duvet fall to her waist as she took in the spread he’d brought: fluffy pancakes stacked high, with unevenly drizzled syrup pooling on the sides, a handful of slightly squished berries, and a glass of orange juice that looked freshly squeezed, though a few pulp bits floated at the top.
There was also a small bowl of whipped cream, although it had melted slightly, giving it a more liquid consistency. The effort, the love he’d poured into each clumsy attempt, was written all over his face, and it made her heart swell.
“It looks perfect,” she said softly, reaching out to run her fingers through his messy hair, smoothing down the wild strands. He leaned into her touch instinctively, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before opening again, filled with warmth.
“You don’t have to lie,” he murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching her carefully as she cut a piece of the pancake with her fork. His eyes widened when she smiled, the syrup dripping from her fork but the taste sweet and comforting. “Okay, maybe it’s not as bad as I thought,” he admitted with a small laugh, his shoulders relaxing.
“You underestimate yourself,” she teased, taking another bite. “It’s got character. Just like you.”
He laughed at that, the sound deep and genuine, filling the room with warmth. Then his gaze softened, a hint of something more serious flickering across his face, like he remembered something.
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek.
“You talk in your sleep, you know?” he said, his voice dropping to a soft murmur, the playful tone replaced with something tender. “Last night, you kept saying my name.”
Her breath caught, the words hanging in the air between them. A blush crept up her neck, her cheeks burning under his gaze. “I did?” she whispered, her voice barely audible, a mixture of embarrassment and curiosity lacing her words.
He nodded, his eyes locked onto hers. “Yeah. Over and over.” His thumb traced small circles on her cheek now, his touch gentle, reassuring. “It was the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.”
The vulnerability in his confession made her heart flutter, her pulse quickening. “What did I say?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly, not entirely sure she wanted to know but unable to stop herself.
His smile grew softer, more affectionate, as he leaned in closer, his forehead almost touching hers. “You said you loved me,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “And I didn’t want to wake you up because hearing you say it felt like a dream I didn’t want to end.”
Her heart swelled, every worry, every insecurity melting away in that moment. She reached out pushing the tray of food away from her and wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “It wasn’t a dream,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his. “I do love you.”
His arms circled around her, holding her tightly as if afraid she'd disappear. “I love you too,” he breathed against her lips before capturing them in a kiss, one that tasted of sweet syrup, fresh berries, and all the love she never thought she'd be lucky enough to have.
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cameronspecial · 1 year ago
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Hi!! since ur requests are open, I have this idea in mind. Basically:
Zach and reader, and they just started dating. Reader is like an art major or smth similar and she is always seen walking around with all her art projects, she is really clumsy and always has paint over her etc. Because she is oblivious too sometimes Zack tries to gain her attention but she is just really focused on her work and idk u can come up with the rest 😭😭 like a fluff type of thing. I hope I make sense.
The Artistic Girl
Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader
Warnings: Suggestive Ending
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.6K
Masterlist
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His first memory of seeing her is when he was playing soccer with his friends in the quad. She had been walking back from class with a thin large bag thing. It was practically as big as her. Zach was so intrigued by the object in her hand that he stopped his game to ask her. “What’s with the bag?” he questioned, running up to her with an interested face. Y/N was so lost in thought that she didn’t hear him. He ran after her, gently tapping her upper arm. He smiled when she turned toward him, “Sorry. I just wanted to know what this big bag is. It’s almost as tall as you. It’s kinda a funny-looking backpack.” “It’s a portfolio bag silly,” she giggles, opening the bag for him to see her drawings. “I’m coming back from my figure drawing class.” He looked up to her to ask for approval to look through her work and she nodded. His hands flipped through the amazing art pieced with awe. She brought so much life into the two-dimensional medium. “These are amazing. I’m Zach by the way. Could I get your number? I would love to see more of your art,” he flirts. She beams at him, “I’m Y/N. I would be delighted to show you more of my art.” The rest of their story creates a beautiful painting. 
———
Zach walks into their shared apartment to find Y/N at her pottery wheel. Her hands are cupped around the wet clay, creating a bulge in the once-straight cylinder. Her hair is in a messy bun and dried clay can be seen all over the bottom of her face and neck. Her clumsy personality means that her art supplies often find themselves all over her skin. It’s adorable. He remembers one time she accidentally sat on her paint pallet. The paint was all over her butt and it was hilarious. His eyes dart to the clock and he takes note of the time. Doesn’t she have class now? “Baby,” he calls to her. No response, instead, her tongue sticks out and her eyebrows furrow. He lets out a soft chuckle. When she gets into her artistic zone, it’s almost impossible to get her out of it. He’s only found one way so far to pull her attention away from her art. He removes his jacket, puts it on the coat rack, and then approaches her. She doesn’t look up at him. He is now standing beside her and he moves his face in front of hers. Her eyes are still glassed over in concentration, so he leans in for a kiss. Once her lips feel him, she snaps out of her thoughts.
Her dirty hands fly to his hair and she laces her fingers through his hair, forgetting the clay that dusts them. They stay like that for a few seconds before he pulls away and rests their forehead together. “You are late for class, Baby,” he whispers, turning their head toward the clock on the wall. She turns his head to her again, which gets some clay on his jaw. She leans in for another kiss, “Well since I’m already late, I don’t think there is any reason to go now. Plus, look at you. You are all dirty with clay. Someone has to help you get cleaned up.”
Zach smirks at her teasing words, loving where this conversation is going. “You are so right. And look at you. You have clay all over you too,” he plays along. She nods, standing up with him. “Well, let’s go get cleaned up,” she suggests, tugging him to the bathroom with her laughter filling the air.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl
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brainddeadd · 2 months ago
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Photos
there's not enough soft trev around
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Trevor is the type of boyfriend who loves to capture little moments, especially when you’re not aware. He’s got this secret album in his camera roll titled “Y/N 🫶🏻,” and it’s filled with photos of you doing the most random things. He can’t help but grin when he scrolls through the album. It’s like his own little scrapbook of all the reasons he loves you.
1. Early Morning Glow: You’re standing by the kitchen window, sipping your morning coffee, wearing nothing but one of Trevor’s oversized hoodies. The sunlight pours in, making you look effortlessly radiant. Trevor grabs his phone, biting back a grin as he snaps the photo. You’re lost in thought, cradling the mug with both hands. He knows you’d roll your eyes if you knew, but to him, moments like this are pure gold.
2. Mid-Laugh Chaos: You’re in the middle of telling a ridiculous story, laughing so hard you can barely breathe. You’re leaning against the couch, eyes scrunched shut, hands flailing as you try to get to the punchline. Trevor quickly lifts his phone and snaps a photo, loving how carefree you look. He knows this will be one of his favorites—your happiness frozen in time.
3. Post-Gym Snack Attack: You’ve just returned from the gym, hair still damp from your shower, and you’re sitting on the floor eating chips straight from the bag. Trevor watches as you toss a chip in the air and miss it completely. He chuckles under his breath, snapping a photo of you pouting in frustration.
4. Mid-Nap Bliss: One lazy afternoon, you doze off on the couch with your head in his lap. Trevor brushes a strand of hair from your face, staring at you for a moment. His heart feels full, so he snaps a soft photo of you sleeping, your hand curled under your cheek. The peaceful look on your face makes it impossible not to capture.
It happens one day when you borrow Trevor’s phone to change the music. You’re scrolling through his camera roll to find a specific photo when the album catches your eye: "Y/N 🫶🏻."
Curious, you tap on it, and your jaw drops slightly as the first photo loads—it's you, mid-laugh, taken just last week. As you scroll through the rest, you see yourself in various moments: messy hair mornings, clumsy snack times, and peaceful naps.
Trevor walks into the room just as you're sitting there with his phone in your hand, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Trevor, what is this?"
He freezes for a second, then smirks. "Uh… evidence of how cute you are?"
You shake your head, torn between laughter and mild embarrassment. "You’ve been sneaking all these pictures of me?!"
“Guilty,” he says, plopping down beside you with a sheepish grin. “What? You’re adorable. Can you blame me?”
Despite your playful glare, your heart melts. "You’re lucky you’re cute, Zegras."
He leans over, presses a kiss to your cheek, and grins. "I'm lucky you’re you."
Every photo in that album is a reminder of how he sees you—soft, beautiful, and always worth capturing, even in your most unguarded moments. And he doesn’t just love what the photos show; he loves that every single one is a piece of you.
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