My hand slipped several times
ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᵗʷᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ʰⁱ
----[Tags]
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Size/Height difference poses
I love height differences aesthetically, but posing them can sometimes be a pain! So to cater to those that also struggle with posing smols and tols, I have a few options-
Meant for art of any type and ask memes, for drawing, writing, photography (like gpose!), ect. Gender nonspecific and for any sort of relationship type, romantic, platonic, and antagonistic!
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My page for @destinytriofanzine! I drew something about kids always dreaming of far off places
[id in alt!]
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the writers on here making the miguel fics need to remember his fangs inject paralytic venom hes not a real vampire it was just a joke in the movie 😭
oh but i still want him to bite me don’t get me wrong idgaf if they have venom 🤷🏾♀️🤷🏾♀️
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...
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This picture is misleading- they're not in love! Nope definitely not. They're cuddling out of... animosity. Yeah.
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OH dw i love me some grumbo too haha, plus your art has crack in it I’m pretty sure /j - Scarian anon
KEKEKEK thank you XDXD
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i keep havin thoughts about 2nd year sleepovers in scarabia ft jamiazu
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I would love to see more of badass reader x Spencer, but maybe reader gets hurt on a case (like a concussion or something) and only wants Spencer and we get to see more of reader’s soft spot for Spencer. Idk if that made sense or if that’s anything you’d be interested in writing. Love reading whatever you write!💕
thank you for your request and for reading babe!! —your singular soft spot for spencer rises to the surface when you get hurt in the field. fem!reader, 1.1k
Emily's foot tap tap taps hospital linoleum. The nurses are getting worried about you —your CAT scans are fine, but you're lethargic. Mildly concussed with moderate symptoms, you winced at the lights, told Emily to turn them off, and haven't said much since.
She frowns. It's not nice to see someone who's usually so closed-off openly pained. "You okay?" she asks.
"I wanna see Spence," you murmur.
Emily nods slowly. She's had this conversation with you already. You have a spot of amnesia, nothing to worry about, decidedly temporary.
"Why hasn't he come to see me?" you ask. Your voice trips and tumbles, your eyes glowing with a glassy sheen. "I thought he'd come to… make sure I was okay. But he doesn't want to see me."
"Spencer's on the way here. He was an hour away with Hotch, remember? They're on their way."
You twitch like a displeased cat under your sheets and turn away from her, sniffling weakly. Your shoulders heave with slow tears. Emily gets up to rub your back but thinks better of it when you stiffen. She doesn't understand how you function, doesn't know what it is about Spencer alone that you can be vulnerable with him and not the others, but she won't judge you for it. She just wishes there was more she could do.
It's an untold amount of time between your tears and Spencer's awaited arrival. You're worse than lethargic, depressed, hand lax behind your back and unresponsive to the sound of the door.
"She's asleep?" he mouths. His hair is limp either side of his face, flattened by anxious hands.
"Upset," she mouths back through a frown, drawing a tear down her cheek with her pinky finger.
He doesn't give Emily a second glance after that.
"Hey," he says softly, rounding your hospital bed, touching the tips of his fingers to your hip and drawing a gentle line up your side. His head dips down, bending at the waist to see you better in the dim lighting. "Hey, what's wrong?"
You make a small keening sound from the back of your throat. It's so cleaving that Emily wants to leave, so painful that she wants to stay. You're her friend too. Emily cares about you, even when it hurts to do so.
"I don't feel like me," you say.
Spencer doesn't shy away either. His expression is open, reassuring as he pops into a semi squat that can't be comfortable. His hand closes around your arm, thumb feeling the naked skin there sweetly. "It's normal to feel confused after a head injury. I promise it won't last."
"I don't feel well," you say, small, like a scared kid.
"I know."
You reach for him. Emily knows Derek would never believe it, your hands stretched out almost desperately, the pleading noise yanked from between teeth normally gritted. Spencer wraps long arms around you with the ease of someone who's done it before, maybe exactly like this.
"It's okay," he says. He's speaking with pep he doesn't feel. Emily can see he's stressed in the high pinch of his shoulders, but he's putting on a show for you. "You don't have to be scared. It's okay."
The perpetual line carved between Hotch's brows seems deeper as he enters the room. Neither of you look up, your back loosening under the lazy back and forth of Spencer's hand.
"Concerning, right?" Emily asks.
Hotch ignores her, but not for lack of agreement. "What do her observations say?"
"Mild to moderate head injury, post-concussion amnesia, fractured index and middle finger on her left hand."
"Where are her clothes?" he asks.
"They can't check her out until she gets her fingers cast and all she brought in her go bag was slacks."
"I'll get her some pyjamas," Hotch says.
Emily's not sure what's funnier, the idea of you in pyjamas, the image of Hotch choosing a pair, or the word pyjamas in his stoic murmur. He lingers to make sure you're okay, his eyes tracking the tremble of your arms as Spencer talks too low to hear in your ear, having sat down on the bed and curled himself around you protectively.
You moan something sad and Spencer laughs, your hospital gown crinkling as he massages the top of your shoulder. "Why would you say that?" he asks lightly. "You think you know better than me? Really?"
"Of course not," you say. If it were anyone else, you'd have knocked them off the bed already.
"I don't remember you having an eidetic memory," he furthers.
You actually manage to laugh for the first time since your initial injury. "I don't remember anything right now," you say.
Emily leans over to Hotch. "You know, when we first came in, I suggested to the nurse that she might have amnesia because she kept asking me where she was, and she looked me dead in the eye and said, well, good thing you're not a nurse."
Hotch scoffs a laugh. "It's a little surprising even now. Seeing them together, you'd never think it."
"Think what?" Emily asks, fond rather than judgemental. "That she's as emotional as a China teacup?"
"I'll remember for both of us," Spencer murmurs, stroking your face. "Okay? So calm down."
Derek once told you to calm down and felt the cold of your icy attitude for a ragged week. Spencer says it and you take a visible deep breath, your head laying back in your pillows, his hand quick to cup the side of your neck. "Okay," you say quietly.
"It's not just that," Hotch says, failing to explain further.
He doesn't have to. Emily knows what he means. You can be snippy, aloof, unfriendly. But it's not just your softening that's surprising, it's Spencer's growing confidence. The ease with which he handles you, hands unabashed in their comforting.
"Want me to find you something to wear?" Spencer asks.
"We got it," Hotch interrupts. "Take it easy, Y/N. Rest."
You nod obediently. He and Emily leave, hearing a last snippet of conversation as the heavy door closes behind them.
"You wanna sign my cast, when they do it?" you ask hopefully.
"Are you kidding? I'd love to. I've always wanted to sign someone's cast, and it's good for your morale."
"Will they be in a cast long, do you think?"
"They should be healed in about six to eight weeks, but you may not regain full strength for another two months afterward. There have actually been studies…"
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— 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞.
✦ in need of a kiss? well, feel free to pick an experience from our finest collection! perhaps you’ll find one suited perfectly to your tastes?
(or, in other words, the types of kisses they give, and what it’s like to kiss them.)
✦ featuring: aventurine, dr. ratio, jing yuan.
✦ warnings: very kiss focused, not proofread.
✦ notes: these characters with this concept were particularly inspiring today, so i jotted down a little something really quick (might add more characters later in a pt. 2 later? idk)
also forgive me for any characterization errors please i'm still studying them
aventurine.
his kisses are greedy.
he’s greedy, far too greedy, and selfish to boot— he wants everything you have to give, all for himself. he tastes like a burst of citrus on your tongue, always, always keeping you on your toes, his lips sneakily capturing everything they can, right down to the slightest sound that leaves your lips.
he wants as much of you as he can possibly get, and he’s perfectly capable of drawing it all out from you, bit by bit. he just needs the right bargaining chip, and he has it already, doesn’t he?
a kiss, for a kiss.
a fair trade, wouldn’t you say?
(he doesn’t make deals that don’t pay off, after all. and this thing he’s doing with you? well, it sure is raking in the profits.)
veritas ratio.
dr. ratio doesn’t do things in half measures. when he kisses you, it’s all or nothing; he will put his all into it.
he doesn’t confine himself to your lips, either. the philosophy is simple: what kind of learning would one hope to achieve by limiting themselves?
his hands travel all over, learning the wheres, the whens and the hows, almost as if he’s trying to see how you tick, while his lips embark on a journey of their own across the skin of your face, your jaw and your neck.
he kisses with diligence and precision and passion, meticulous and methodical, quickly adapting his methods to even the slightest of hints you send his way. every action he does is intentional and deliberate, so why should this be any different?
oh, but make no mistake, for all his versatility and straightforwardness, he will not make it easy for you to keep up with him.
but you can take a challenge, can’t you?
jing yuan.
he is gentle, he is soft, he is slow— he kisses in the way that honey flows; lazy, languid, almost hypnotizing, like he has all the time in the world. he savors you the same way he savors the tea that lends his lips the subtle bitterness they carry, but they taste sweet all the same.
when he pulls away, a smile graces his face, one that lights up his eyes with adoration. soft as they are, they still command your undivided attention with the way you cannot seem to tear your gaze away from him. his hands still remain on your person though, holding you impossibly close.
and when he tenderly cradles your face in his palms, worries evaporate into air, thoughts slip away to spaces unknown, and moments stretch into lifetimes.
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SOAR pt.2
prev
NSFW +18 MDNI cw: smut, kidnapping, obsessive behavior, fem!reader, König is a fucking delusional, noncon, Stockholm Syndrome. (idk guys it’s more romantic? than i wanted it to be lmao) (and another warning that this chapter might feel different from the first chapter. just saying :> )
word count: 1.7k
summary: Your sweet captor König fucking you after coming back to home from a long mission.
art cr: yashk_pucyet on twt
König was a man of stamina. He made sure you knew it in the first months that he kidnapped you. And after he came back from deployments, he would make sure you knew he wasn’t a man to be satisfied with just one round. He was your husband after all. He should show his wife that he’s the only one that she needed, that was what he was thinking when he pulled you up by your calves and put them onto his shoulders as he pushed his thick cock into your perfect pussy. His perfect pussy. You were his wife so he had all the right to claim you as his. All of you. All of his. “Ich habe das so sehr vermisst.” (I missed this so much.) he grunted as his hips continued its overwhelming pace.
The way your eyes rolled back and walls clenched tightly around his shaft made him bite onto his lower lip so he wouldn’t let out the moan that was threatening to slip away from his lips. “So fucking cute, Maus.” he cooed when you let out the most beautiful moans and whimpers. The sound of your begging and pleading like ‘stop’, ’s too much’, ‘can’t take it’ fall on deaf ears. All he could hear was the lewd sounds of your dripping cunt. And the way your pussy milked him was enough to convince him to continue. But of course he was still sweet enough to draw tight circles on your clit when he felt you get closer to your orgasm. He brought one if his hands down between your thighs as the other kept your legs on his shoulders. “Let go f’me, Maus. It feels good isn’t it? As much as you try to deny it you missed this cock more than me. Did i made you addicted to this cock? Such a slutty wife. My slutty wife.” and of course he was mean. His degrading words went straight to your pussy. The pleasure, the way he stretched your poor pussy, the way his tip hit your most delicious spots were too overwhelming. You felt like the world’s spinning when he bit the soft skin of your calves. He quickly kissed and licked the new mark which found it’s place among the others. With one hard thrust his tip kissed your cervix and made your vision go white when you cum around his thick cock. Your thighs trembled and you let out a soft cry as you cum. “Scheiße.” He hissed. Pussy squeezing him so tight, milking and begging for his cum. Who he was to not give it to his sweet girl. His beautiful wife. “Gonna cum in you süßes Mädchen.” he purred as the movement of his hips became more desperate. The thought of cumming inside your greedy cunt, claiming you with his cum deep inside your cunt, brought him to the edge. So he finished deep inside you, painting your walls with his seeds. Just like how he did when you ride him. The relief and contentment he felt afterwards was something else. Something that made him feel like a caveman. A man who behaves primitive and rough. “I’m sorry, Maus.” he cooed when he finally noticed your tear stained face. He turned his head to side and closed his eyes when he pressed his lips onto the skin of your legs. “Are you mad at me?” he mumbled softly with all his innocence. He pulled his cock out and collapsed on top of you, so you couldn’t look away from him or try to leave his side. “Look at me, Maus. Du gehst nirgendwohin.” (You’re not going anywhere.) his lengthy and calloused fingers found your chin to make you look into his eyes. He hated when you got upset with him. His heart ached and anxiety engulfed his brain whenever you avoided him. It wasn’t like you could ever leave him. Oh he wouldn’t let you. He just needed you so much. His need and desperation for you never ended.
In the other hand, there you were, so sore from his harshness and endless desire for you. You felt like crying again as he softly let go of your chin, deciding that he was already too harsh on you today, and buried his head into your neck. He was heavy. God he was like 130 kilograms and he was crushing your poor delicate body into mattress. Not that he cared if you were uncomfortable. He just wanted to soothe you with the way he thought would work. His actions were confusing you, making you doubt yourself whenever he got so tender and soft with you. Like now. He was nuzzling and murmuring into your neck, kissing and licking the soft skin, breathing in your addictive scent and marking you by sucking bruises onto your throat… He was melted onto your body, like he didn’t fucked you senseless a minute ago. “Was i too rough again?” he finally spoke again, making you sob and nod quietly. All the overwhelming feelings finally getting to you. “Aww poor baby. That was why i wanted you to ride me.” Yeah, like you had had the energy for it after doing it once already. König knew he was hard in bed. Brutal even. He knew if he had his hands on you he would manhandle you into every position he wanted and he wouldn’t think if it hurt you. You see, he was a soldier, he didn’t knew how to be soft. He didn’t knew how to calm down people. When he had his cock in you and you weren’t on top of him -in control- he would only think the ways to go deeper inside your welcoming warmth. Like the caveman he felt. “I will make it up to you, Meine Königin. How about a hot bath?” he suggested as his fingers dug into your messy hair and started to caress it tenderly. Even if he was tired from the work he still wanted to keep his beautiful wife content and happy. You wanted to deny him, to push him of off your sore body and curse at him. Maybe you could hit him across the face if you had the energy. But all you could do was give him another tiny nod. “That’s my beautiful wife.” he smiled so brightly like you just gave him the world. Despite keeping you forcefully in his home, in his bed, in his arms, you couldn’t deny the trust he imbued into your mind.
His large arms wrapped around your body after he pressed a last lingering kiss on your neck. He gently lifted you up and made you wrap your legs around his waist. Once he was sure you were secured in his strong arms he got up from bed and carried you to the tub that he soon filled with warm water and some essences you like. Once everything was done he pulled your back against his chest and you couldn’t help but put your head back on his chest. “Enjoying yourself, Maus?” he chuckled lightly as you closed your eyes with a humm. The way his strong arms wrapped around you and his fingers massaged your sore muscles relaxed you further. “Feels good.” you mumbled, your voice just above whisper and he noted the way you sigh softly when his fingers brushed against the fresh marks on your thighs. You didn’t even wanted to open your eyes, you just wanted to enjoy how his fingers worked on your sore muscles and forget that it was your kidnapper who was holding you firmly against his body. Maybe, just maybe if you forgot that fact, living with him wouldn’t be that bad. And of course you had to bare with him claiming you as his wife and wanting you to call him your husband all the time. Yeah, that was annoying. But in total it wasn’t that bad. He wasn’t that bad. And maybe he was right when he told you that you didn’t needed anyone but him. He could provide for you, he could show affection and he wasn’t afraid to voice his love for you in every given chance. Unlike the men outside. Yeah, maybe if you just play with his rules you could be happier. He loved you after all. You were his little wife. And he was your husband. “What are you thinking?” he pressed a kiss on your temple when he saw your expression. What could you be thinking so hard? He had to know. He wanted to be inside your head constantly. When you didn’t answer, his mind starts to wonder. Why you weren’t answering him? Were you thinking of escaping again? Even after he fucked you this good and taking care of you? “Answer me.” his tone goes darker with the seconds you waste. His fingers squeezing your plush thighs unconsciously. “I- i was just thinking-“ a small cry left your lips when you flinched with the pain on your thighs. And of course he noticed. Like he noticed everything about you. So he let his grip loosen to let you speak. “I think i love you.” you said and felt his whole body tense behind your back. His whole body went stiff like he received a bullet into his chest. And it felt like it. He felt like his heart exploded and replaced with another one so it could beat this fast. You turned towards him to see his expression but what you saw got you more worried. His eyes were fixated on the wall of the bathroom and his mouth was agape. He looked like he was in a trance. “König?” you called his name but he just remained still. So you did the thing you wanted to do for a while and kissed him. He let out a small gasp but it short lived when he immediately grabbed you by the back of your neck and kept your head still so you couldn’t get away from his grip. Oh no, not anymore when he finally, truly got you. A low moan, more like a growl, left his lips when he finally had a taste of your delicious looking lips. Oh god it was like heaven. You were like heaven and now he couldn’t get enough of you. His hungry mouth captured yours with a desperate kiss. His used his free hand to press onto your chin to explore your mouth further. He was desperate for the new taste he got and he was determined to savor it until his last breath. You were his and he had to claim it with his kiss. There was no going back after giving him your delicious lips.
“Now that you kissed me, you can’t leave me anymore.”
a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i try to reply all of them :>
i just love this fic sm. i can’t get enough. a small chapter to thank you guys for:
THIS. ~(≧▽≦)/~ I WANT TO THANK YOU ALL FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT YOU GUYS ARE MY DELULU BBGS <3
and can someone tell me why i love writing König while listening to Rammstein
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౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ REASSURANCE — nanami kento
kento comforts you when you're feeling down
contents: gn!reader, insecurities, pet names, this was written in like 30 mins so idk, 700 words, sfw
“kento?” you asked, resting your hands on your lap. from the other side of the couch, he turned, smiling softly, placing his thumbs between the pages of the book to save his spot. your head was buried in the cushion, and you stared at him, blinking slowly. “you still love me, right?”
at first, he laughed, a small little sound that left his throat. then, when your face fell further, he cut himself off immediately, eyebrows drawing together tightly. “of course, i love you, sweetheart. i love you so much. why are you asking me?”
you shrugged, embarrassed, and looked away from him, at your hands locked together. “sometimes i just don’t know why. it makes more sense that you wouldn’t love me than that you do.”
a heavy frown drew on kento’s face, and inched closer, reaching out. “what do you mean? did i do something that made you feel unloved? if i did, honey, i’m sorry—”
which only served to make you feel worse, because, most things weren’t ever kento’s fault. he was so patient and caring, the sweetest man you’d ever known. and you weren’t sure that you deserved that kind of love at all.
“of course not, kento, you’re perfect.”
he smiled a bit, then, but that didn’t erase the concern in his eyes. “i’m certainly anything but perfect.” his fingertips ran along the back of your own, softly. “tell me what’s wrong, my love. i don’t like seeing you upset.”
you sniffed, willing the tears away as you looked past him once more, unable to meet his gentle eyes. “it’s stupid.”
“don’t say that. nothing you feel is ever stupid.”
and when a tear fell down your cheek at the kind words, you wiped it away before kento could see it, scrubbing violently at your skin.
“i’m fine, kento.”
“you’re not.” he paused, softened his voice. “it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. i won’t make you. but don’t keep it all bottled up just because you think you’re being silly. okay?”
you glanced over, blinked, stared at the way his smile was slightly tilted. the plumpness of his lips, the gentleness of his eyes. his soft, blond hair falling over his forehead, because it was sunday night, and he hadn’t bothered to style it.
how dearly you loved him. you’d rather die than live a life without him.
a sob broke loose from you, and you covered your face with your hands, sniffling. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry.”
kento said nothing, but drew you closer, pulling you onto his lap. tears fell down your cheeks, and though you didn’t want to look at him, he drew your lips to his own, the touch barely there, before he kissed across your cheeks, your forehead.
“why are you sorry?”
“i didn’t mean to cry. i’m being so dumb. and sensitive.”
“honey,” he sighed, stroking your cheeks, eyes almost pained from the sight of you so upset. “it’s okay. don’t apologize for crying. i love you. i love you, i love you.”
you breathed deeply, trying not to cry harder, hating how difficult it was for you to accept him irrevocable affections, sometimes. “but why? why would you choose me, kento? i don’t think i’m an easy person to love. i’m so… boring, and average, and you are amazing in every way.” you squeezed his hand, still resting on your cheeks, and leaned into it.
kento stared, forehead wrinkling, before he pushed you down to his chest, holding you close. a long inhale breathed deep into his body. “you aren’t any of those things, you know? you’re so lovable. you’re beautiful, caring, intelligent. anything but boring. anything but average.” he ran his fingers up the knots of your spine. “perhaps, i was put on this earth to prove you otherwise.”
you gave him a sad little smile. “you might be working on that for a while, ken.”
"that's okay." he laughed, soft, gently, enough to shake you against his chest before he kissed the top of your head. “that’s what love is, isn’t it? i'm not going to leave when things get tough.”
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yes, really ✰ m. riddle
prompt: “i knew you’d be here”
summary: you’re drawing in the astronomy tower to clear your head & mattheo finds you
pairing/dynamic: best friend!mattheo x reader, mutual pining but they don’t really talk about it???? just two oblivious besties in love w each other
warnings: mentions of smoking (cigarettes), very very mild innuendo?? not even??? idk i think that’s pretty much it
note: i’m actually very happy with this one (i think) so i hope y’all enjoy :) i’m still planning on working on some requests, but i just wanted to start w something cute n fun while i had the inspo
masterlist
comments & reblogs are so appreciated!! <3
✰ ✰ ✰
“can’t sleep?”
in other circumstances, you might’ve been startled - but you recognize the voice in a second.
mattheo stands just inches away from you - the scuffed toes of his black chucks nearly touching your own.
with a soft little sigh, you set aside your sketchbook. “no. what about you?”
mattheo shrugs, before moving to sit beside you. “haven’t even bothered to try yet.” he slides down the wall, letting his long legs sprawl in front of him. then - with his thigh pressed up against your own, he begins fishing around in his jacket pocket. you watch him curiously, lips quirking upwards in understanding when he produces a familiar gold zippo and a pack of smokes.
even though it’s a miserably cold night, the heat of mattheo’s leg against your own is enough to make you dizzy. in a vain attempt to calm your quickly beating heart, you draw your legs up against your chest, before wrapping your arms around them. you watch as mattheo slots a cigarette between his lips, letting your cheek fall against your knees. “you know those are bad for you, right?”
he offers you a familiar little grin, cigarette bobbing between his lips as he responds. “i had no idea.”
you roll your eyes, bumping your shoulder against his. “you should quit.”
“maybe you should pick it up.”
a quiet little giggle slips past your lips. “could you imagine me smoking?”
mattheo laughs softly as he exhales, and you pretend not to notice how he blows the smoke away from you. “not really.” he takes another slow drag, and you watch distractedly as the cherry illuminates his handsome features. “it’d be hot though.” he says the words casually, through a mouthful of smoke, and your cheeks suddenly feel like they’re on fire.
“mattheo!”
he shrugs with his lips tugged upwards in an infuriating smirk. “what?”
you roll your eyes fondly, suddenly unable to look at anything but your shoes. “you are such an arse.”
for a few moments, the two of you slip into a comfortable silence. while mattheo finishes his half-smoked cigarette, you gaze distractedly up at the stars. eventually, you grow tired of the quiet - opting to ask the question you’d been mulling over since he turned up in front of you. “why’d you come up here, anyways?”
mattheo’s quiet for a second and your mind races anxiously in wait. then, he stubs out the end of his cigarette with a shrug. “i knew you’d be here.”
your heart aches fondly in your chest. “really?”
another shrug, and then he’s turning to you with this soft little smile that seems to be reserved for you and you alone. “yes, really.”
he says it as if it’s obvious - maybe it is - and you can hardly contain your stupid little giggle. “oh.”
“oh?” mattheo’s eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, but his knowing-grin never wavers.
it’s your turn to shrug - you’re not sure if you can bring yourself to do anything more at this point.
he bumps his shoulder against yours, leaning in to look at you. “is it a good “oh” at least?”
he’s being awful on purpose and you pretend to hate it. with a meek little nod, you finally meet his eyes. “it’s a good “oh””
mattheo grins, dropping his arm across your shoulders. “good.”
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Beloveds 🥺
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