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#sincerity is a Rare Find these days
neonbuck · 1 year
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i love vintage tacky internet subcommunity stuff like furry stuff and emo stuff and even some anime and brony stuff. its a bit sticky with toxins but if you wash it off you can make it good as new
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jaysng · 1 month
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post arguement — park sunghoon
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pairing: bf!sunghoon x fem!reader
genre: angst (resolved), fluff
synopsis: waking up the next day after an argument, sunghoon is a little shy to ask you to follow up your daily routine together.
• help palestine, click me
sunghoon had always been the quiet type, never one to express too much, but last night’s argument was different.
it left an uncomfortable tension lingering between you two, something neither of you were used to. you tossed and turned in bed, unable to find peace, the memory of harsh words replaying in your mind like a broken record.
the morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. you had barely slept, your mind restless with unresolved thoughts.
you felt a soft nudge on your arm, and as you blinked your eyes open, there was sunghoon, standing beside the bed, his expression unreadable, a mix of uncertainty and something else you couldn’t quite place.
he hesitated for a moment, as if he was trying to find the right words. “can you… do that thing?” he finally mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze flickering away from yours.
it was unlike him to ask for anything, especially after a fight, but you knew what he meant. every morning, without fail, you’d apply his skincare for him, a small act that had somehow become your routine.
you let out a sleepy groan, turning away from him and pulling the covers over your head. “not today, hoon,” you murmured, your voice muffled, teasing him just a little, but deep down, you knew you couldn’t actually refuse him.
he stood there for a moment, the silence stretching out between you two.
“please?” he added, a little softer this time, a rare vulnerability in his voice that made your heart soften. it wasn’t like him to ask twice.
you sighed softly, sitting up and pushing the covers off. “fine,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully as you climbed out of bed.
“but only because you said please.” despite the remnants of last night’s argument hanging in the air, you didn’t have it in you to say no to him. maybe this was his way of making peace, in the only way he knew how.
“thanks,” he mumbled, almost too quiet to hear, but you caught the sincerity in his voice.
you slipped out of bed, your feet padding softly on the cold floor as you headed to the small vanity where you kept the skincare products.
sunghoon followed you, his steps equally soft, almost as if he was afraid to break the fragile silence that had settled between you two.
“you know, you could’ve just done it yourself today,” you teased lightly, grabbing the moisturizer and turning to face him.
he shook his head, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“it’s not the same,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze fixed on the floor. it was rare for him to be this open, and it made you pause for a second.
you motioned for him to sit properly, and he complied, scooting back a bit so he was closer to you.
you took a deep breath, your hands working automatically as you unscrewed the cap of his moisturizer. the familiar scent filled the space between you, and for a moment, it felt like everything was back to normal.
“you’re such a baby, you know that?” you said, your tone playful as you smoothed the cream onto your fingers.
“only for you,” he replied, his lips curving into the smallest of smiles, and you felt your heart skip a beat.
you gently applied the moisturizer to his face, your touch soft and careful, as if you were trying to erase the harshness of the previous night with every gentle swipe.
sunghoon’s eyes closed, his face relaxing under your touch, and you could feel the tension slowly melting away.
neither of you spoke, the silence was heavy but not uncomfortable. it was the kind of silence that spoke volumes, the kind that said everything you both were too afraid to put into words.
you finished with the moisturizer, your fingers lingering on his skin for a moment longer before you pulled away.
but instead of standing back up, you suddenly decided to straddle his lap, settling yourself comfortably as you faced him. his eyes flew open, a hint of surprise in them as you smiled down at him, your hands resting on his shoulders.
“what are you doing?” he asked, his voice a little shaky, clearly flustered by your sudden proximity.
“just making sure you’re not going anywhere,” you teased, leaning in to smooth out the moisturizer on his forehead.
you could feel the warmth of his body beneath you, his breath hitching slightly as your fingers grazed his skin.
sunghoon was trying hard to keep his composure, but you could see the faint blush creeping up his neck, spreading to his cheeks.
“you’re really… close,” he mumbled, his hands hesitantly finding their way to your waist, unsure of where to put them.
“is that a problem?” you asked, your tone teasing as you finished up with his skincare, your hands lingering on his cheeks for a moment longer.
he shook his head, his eyes flickering up to meet yours for just a second before they darted away again. “no… it’s just… different,” he admitted, his voice barely audible, but you caught the shy smile playing on his lips.
you leaned in closer, your face just inches from his, your breath mingling with his as you whispered, “different can be good, you know.”
he didn’t respond, but you could see the way his eyes softened, the way his hands tightened slightly around your waist, holding you just a little closer.
“about last night…” he started, his voice hesitant, his gaze flickering to the side, avoiding yours. “i’m… i didn’t mean to make you upset.”
you felt a small smile tug at your lips, his awkwardness endearing. “i know,” you replied softly, reaching out to take his hand, squeezing it gently.
“i’m sorry too, i shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
he finally looked back at you, a hint of relief in his eyes.
“we’re okay, right?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost as if he was afraid of your answer.
“yeah, we’re okay,” you reassured him, giving his hand another squeeze. “just… try not to be such a grump next time, okay?”
he huffed out a small laugh, the tension finally breaking.
“i’ll try,” he promised, a shy smile playing on his lips.
for a moment, you just sat there, side by side, the morning light wrapping around you like a gentle embrace.
and though the argument wasn’t entirely forgotten, the weight of it had lessened, replaced by the quiet understanding that you’d work through it together, just like you always did.
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• REBLOG if you enjoyed, do not copy or repost.
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DPXDC prompt. Nanny Wilson
Little Danny is almost lost in the mall when his parents suddenly run too fast in an attempt to catch up a ghost that their equipment has detected. Young Fenton is not a crybaby at all, but being alone without daddy and mommy is a little scary, so he begins to whimper and run around, trying to find familiar features in the blurry figures around him. Finally, he bumps into the thigh with a gun. It doesn't look much like an ectoblast, but dad is always inventing something new, so Danny quickly hugs this leg as hard as he can and begs loudly.
Danny: Daddy! Don't leave me! Slade: What the hell… Boy, I'm not your dad.
Danny blinks a few times and realizes that this man really doesn't look like Jack.
Danny: Oh. I'm sowwy. Can you help me find my daddy?
Slade: What makes you think I'm going to do this?
Danny: You have a gun and dad has a gun, so you're good. Are you here to hunt too? Slade: Something like that...What's your father's name, kid?
Jack: Danny! There you are!
A huge figure in a hazmat suit rushes towards them and Danny notices that his new friend is hastily hiding the weapon. To cheer up the man who is obviously meeting Jack Fenton for the first time, Danny smiles broadly. Dad may look scary, but he doesn't steal other people's toys.
Jack: Oh, thanks for looking after him. Our goal turned out to be too fast and we didn't even notice when our boy started to fall behind. Slade: No problem, colleague. Maddie: ? Danny: Kind uncle is also a hunter. Maddie: Oh, that's great! Em, sorry, but is there any chance that you have a time to look after our boy for a few days? We'll pay you well. You see, he rarely trusts people so quickly, and we absolutely do not have time to look for a replacement for our old nanny, and we really need to complete the last project as soon as possible.
Looking at the giggling boy trying to see if there are any other interesting things on him, Wilson decides that this will not be a bad experience in case he decides to establish a relationship with his found daughter.
Slade: All right, I'll take your order.
~~~About ten years later~~~
Danny, who is much more familiar with death than in canon, after being freshly ghosted: Damn, nanny will be so mad at me.
~~~~~ Danny: Hey, Slade. Do you want me to show you something cool? Slade: Not now, kid, nanny is cleaning up. Danny: Yeah, about that. *makes a corpse go through the ground* Ta-da! Can we talk now? Slade at the first second: *Surprised Pikachu face*. Slade when he notices a strange glow around Danny, like from ectoplasm in the lab of the boy's parents: >:( … >:( … >:( Danny: S-stop it!
~~~~~ Slade: And take out the bloodstains from those shirts too, they're my favorites. Danny: Oh dude, have you heard that child labor is illegal? Slade: Whoever doesn't help uncle Slade doesn't get a new knife for Christmas. Danny: Pfff…Now I'm my own weapon, come up with something new or I'll find myself a cooler mentor. Slade: Jackanapes!
~~~~~
When Wilson stumbles upon a distraught runaway Robin, he sincerely tries to take care of him as well as he took care of Danny. Deathstroke is an experienced babysitter, so there shouldn't be any problems with vigilante child being around on his missions. All children love knives, workouts and guns, right? Plus, staying alone when they are upset, as Jazz says, is unhealthy.
~~~~A few days later~~~~
Dick's thoughts: He wants to make me his evil sidekick, oh no! Wilson's thoughts: What's wrong with this kid? Batman so fucked up? Wayne needs to be stripped of his parental rights. I'm calling Jazz.
~~~~~
Wilson, who does not understand that he has been hanging out with Fentons too long, looks with perplexity at Grayson, who's running away from flying pieces of Maddie's pizza, then shoots some pepperoni and sits down at the table. It's going to be a long way. Poor boy.
~~~~~
Meanwhile, Fenton family is visiting Masters for the first time. Vlad tries to flirt with Maddie and then pretends to be good-natured while getting to know Danny.
Danny: I know 54 ways to kill you with this fork. If I were you I think I'd watch my mouth. Jack: He's joking, V-man. Danny: I'm not. Jack: He's just like his babysitter. They have such an unusual sense of humor. I think our boy really likes you! Usually Danny is too shy to talk like this with strangers. Vlad: Babysitter? Maddie: Yes, Mr. Wilson helped us out a lot and often did not even take payment. He's an angel. Vlad: I think I've heard that name somewhere before... Jack: Ugh, I want to introduce you anyway! Danny: Me too. Jack: Great. What about Wednesday? Danny: Dad, uncle might be busy. Let me ask him when he has time to, um, pay your old friend a visit.
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hoshifighting · 4 months
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— Synopsis: Nerd!Jeonghan is invited to a frat party by the jocks, but it was just a bad joke, because they didn't like seeing you with the nerd. They just didn't expect that on the same night, you would fuck your good boy. — WC: 5.3k — WARNINGS: Tricking, slight angst, smut, fingering, oral (m. receiving), cock riding, overstimulation, wap, clit stimulation, g'spot stimulation, penetrative sex, protected sex, Jeonghan teases reader without noticing and etc. — This is a part 2 of Nerd!Jeonghan – Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
The cafeteria was buzzing with the usual chatter and clatter of trays and cutlery. You were surrounded by your friends, laughing at a joke someone had made, when suddenly a tray was placed in front of you. The food on it was from the most expensive selection in the canteen, a treat you rarely indulged in. You glanced up and saw Jeonghan's retreating figure, leaving no room for argument.
"What's this?" one of your friends asked, eyeing the tray curiously.
"Looks like someone's got a secret admirer," another teased.
You chuckled, shaking your head as you picked up an apple from the tray. "It's nothing like that. Just… a thank you, I guess."
As you ate the delicious lunch, your mind wandered to Jeonghan. You decided to find him after you were done. Finishing the meal, you took the apple and headed out, searching for Jeonghan around the campus.
Eventually, you spotted him sitting alone on the grandstand, eyes focused on the field. You walked over and sat down beside him, taking a bite of the apple. He turned his head slightly to acknowledge your presence.
"Are you going to buy lunch for me without lunching with me?" you teased, nudging him playfully.
Jeonghan gave you a shy smile. "I just wanted to thank you for the glasses. I'm going to buy you lunch till the end of the year to pay you back and–"
You placed a finger on his lips to shush him, causing his eyes to widen slightly. "You don't need to do that, Jeonghan. The guys broke your glasses, so I needed to do the right thing. And… because I think you're a good boy."
Jeonghan's cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and he bit his lip nervously. The sight of you up close, with your unbuttoned white shirt revealing a hint of your chest and your skirt riding up your thighs under the hot sun, made his heart race. Your perfume lingered in the air, making him take a deep breath, trying to memorize the scent.
"Good boy?" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.
You nodded, your eyes sparkling with sincerity. "Yes, a good boy. You're kind, and you don't deserve the way they treat you."
Jeonghan couldn't help but feel aroused by your words, if only you knew the effect you had on him, you'd probably think he was a pervert. He swallowed hard, trying to compose himself.
"Thank you," he managed to say, his voice shaky. "It means a lot coming from you."
He watched as you took another bite of the apple, the simple act somehow feeling incredibly intimate.
"So, lunch tomorrow?" you asked, breaking the silence.
Jeonghan chuckled, finally relaxing a bit. "Sure, lunch tomorrow."
Jeonghan already thought you looked gorgeous, and now that he found out you were this kind, you looked even prettier to his eyes. He now had a friend—someone outside of the geek club. The jocks noticed the change. They saw how he now lunched with you, how you chattered with him excitedly, how you hugged him when he arrived on campus, and how you two shared dessert after lunch. Their curiosity got the better of them.
"What the fuck is going on?" one of them asked, bewildered.
One afternoon, you hadn't arrived in class yet. Jeonghan was nervously fiddling with his pen, wondering what kind of torment the day might bring, when James, one of the jocks, approached him. Jeonghan tensed, preparing for the worst—another broken pair of glasses, a stolen lunch, or a demand for homework. Instead, James placed a card on his table.
"Be at the frat party tonight. Y/N will be there," James said curtly before walking away.
Jeonghan looked at the card in his hand, not too confident but filled with a glimmer of hope. You would be there.
[…]
It was Friday night, and Jeonghan had always heard about the infamous frat parties. He had often wondered what they were like but never had the guts to seek an invitation. Tonight was different. He dressed in a white shirt paired with a black leather jacket—an ensemble suggested by his mom through text messages. She assured him he would look handsome like that.
Jeonghan glanced at his phone, following the map to the party's location. But as he arrived, his surroundings felt wrong. The map indicated he had reached his destination, yet he found himself in a wasteland—dark, empty, and desolate. He looked around, searching for any sign of a party. There was nothing. No movement, no lights, no sounds of laughter or music. His heart sank as the realization hit him, he had been tricked.
Jeonghan's footsteps echoed loudly against the pavement as he briskly walked away from the supposed frat party location. His mind was a whirlwind of frustration, embarrassment, and anger. How could he have been so naive to think that someone like him would be invited to a party where someone like you would be present?
As he made his way down the bustling avenue, he heard his name being called. Initially, he ignored it, hoping to avoid any further interactions that would only add to his already sour mood. But when the voice persisted, he reluctantly glanced over his shoulder, only to see you standing there. You were dressed in your office attire, looking professional and put-together as always, with a leather bag slung over your shoulder. Your brows furrowed in concern as you called out to him, and you reached out to touch his shoulder gently. Seeing Jeonghan ignore you was so out of character for him.
"Jeonghan, wait! What happened?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine worry.
Jeonghan stopped in his tracks, his jaw clenched as he turned to face you.
"What happened?" he repeated, his tone sharp with irritation. "What do you think happened, Y/N? I was tricked. Played for a fool. Just like always." he snaps, immediately regretting the harshness in his tone.
You blinked, taken aback by his sudden hostility. "Jeonghan, I… I don't understand. What do you mean you were tricked?"
Jeonghan let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I thought… I thought maybe things were finally looking up for me. That maybe, someone like you actually wanted to spend time with me." he breathes in. "I was invited to some stupid frat party, and when I got there, there was nothing. No party, no people, just darkness."
His words came out in a bitter rush, his emotions raw and unfiltered. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and he hated it.
You looked at him with concern, trying to piece together what he was saying. "Jeonghan, I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't invite you to any party. I… I would never do something like that."
Jeonghan scoffed, his disbelief evident. "Come on, Y/N. Don't play dumb. I saw the card. James gave it to me himself, said you would be there."
Your eyes widened in realization, and you shook your head vehemently. "James? That jerk! Jeonghan, I had nothing to do with that. I swear."
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, searching your face for any hint of deception. But all he saw was sincerity and genuine concern.
"Why would James lie about something like that?" he asked, his voice softer now, the anger slowly ebbing away.
You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "Because he's an asshole, Jeonghan. He probably thought it would be funny to mess with you. But I had no idea. I'm so sorry."
Jeonghan's shoulders slumped as he processed your words. He felt relief and embarrassment wash over him, along with a twinge of guilt for snapping at you earlier.
"I… I'm sorry, Y/N," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I shouldn't have lashed out like that. It's just… it's been a rough night."
You take Jeonghan's hand in yours, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. His thumb draws soothing circles on the back of your hand as you look into his eyes, filled with gratitude for your understanding.
"Let's go," you say softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "I was actually going to pass by a convenience store. We can pick up some snacks and drinks, and then we'll head to my place. We can have our own little party there."
Jeonghan's lips curve into a hesitant smile, the tension slowly melting away from his features. "That sounds… nice," he replies, his voice tinged with relief.
You start walking together, the weight of the earlier misunderstanding lifting from your shoulders.
The atmosphere in your room was cozy, the soft glow of the lamp casting warm shadows against the walls. You and Jeonghan sat side by side on your bed, beers in hand, watching a variety program on the television. Your thigh rested comfortably over his, his hand resting on your skin as if it belonged there.
You had ditched the frat parties long ago, opting instead for chill nights like these, where you could actually hear each other talk and enjoy each other's company without the chaos. And right now, with Jeonghan so close, it felt perfect.
The alcohol had loosened both of you up, making conversation flow easier and nerves dissipated. Jeonghan seemed more relaxed now, his touch becoming almost absent-minded as he reached for his beer can or adjusted his position on the bed.
You couldn't deny the way his touch was melting you into the mattress, stealing the air from your lungs and flooding your senses with horniness.
But no matter how obvious you tried to make it, Jeonghan remained focused on the television, seemingly unaware of your growing need. It was frustrating, maddening even, to be so close to him and yet feel so far apart.
Occasionally, your hips would shift involuntarily, seeking some kind of friction to alleviate the growing ache between your legs. You clenched around nothing, as your nipples hardened on your tank top.
As Jeonghan reached for his beer can once more, his hand unconsciously squeezing your thigh further up, a sudden surge of pleasure shot through you. Before you could even stop yourself, an involuntary moan escaped your lips, echoing in the quiet room.
Jeonghan froze, his hand still resting on your thigh, his eyes widening in shock. Did he just make you moan? Or worse, did he hurt you?
"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, his voice filled with genuine concern as he quickly withdrew his hand.
You bite your lip, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood through you at your own reaction. But before you could respond, another moan escaped your lips, this time his name falling from them like a plea. "Hannie…"
The sound sent a jolt of arousal coursing through him, his own desire spiking at the realization that he had caused you to moan like that.
He looked at you, sprawled out on the bed, your eyes heavy with desire, your skin flushed and hot to the touch. Your lips were parted, your breath coming in shallow gasps, and your legs were parted ever so slightly, inviting him in.
Jeonghan stopped, his mind racing with uncertainty. What should he do? There wasn't enough time to think. His hand moved a little further up your thigh experimentally, not quite touching your crotch, but close enough to feel the heat radiating from you. He caught a glimpse of your hips rolling slightly in his hand's direction, a silent plea for more.
"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice breathy and filled with need.
Oh.
Jeonghan froze for a moment, taken aback by your request. He took a moment to compose himself, slowly removing his glasses and placing them on the table beside the bed. Then, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss.
But if you left it up to him, the two of you would be content with simple pecks. You needed more. Parting your lips, you gently made passage inside his mouth with your tongue, feeling his wet muscle gently caress yours as he gasped in surprise.
You leaned into him, your hand finding the way to his hair, gripping it softly as you deepened the kiss. Jeonghan's initial hesitation melted away as he responded, his hands roaming up and down your thigh, drawing you closer to him.
The kiss grew more passionate, your tongues dancing together, exploring and tasting. You could feel Jeonghan's breath quicken, matching your own, and the electric connection between you intensified with every passing second. Your hips moved closer, seeking the friction you so desperately craved, and his hand inched higher, teasing innocently.
Your body was practically vibrating with need, and you couldn't take the teasing any longer. Grabbing Jeonghan's hand, you guided it to your clothed pussy, under your loose shorts, pressing his fingers against the wet fabric of your panties. He let you lead him, his uncertainty evident, but the touch was enough to make you whine.
Jeonghan's breath hitched as he felt the heat and dampness beneath his hand. His jeans suddenly felt unbearably tight, and he realized he was suffering just as much as you were.
He wanted to make you feel good, but he wasn't entirely sure how to proceed.
Taking a deep breath, he started to move his fingers tentatively, exploring the shape of you through your panties. His touch was hesitant at first, but as he felt you react, he grew a little bolder, pressing more firmly and rubbing small circles over your sensitive spot–that he have found based on your moaning frequency.
You moaned softly, the sound making Jeonghan shiver. He could feel your hips moving against his hand, seeking more friction, more pressure. His own arousal was becoming almost unbearable, but he was focused on you, on the way your body responded to his touch.
"Jeonghan," you breathed, your voice thick with desire. "Don't stop."
Encouraged by your words, Jeonghan's movements became more confident. He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles, while his fingers teased along the edges of your panties. Each touch makes you gasp and arch your back.
Jeonghan's eyes were locked on your face, watching the expressions of pleasure that played across it. He wanted to make you feel good, to see you lose yourself in the sensations he was creating.
"Please," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I need you."
That was all the encouragement Jeonghan needed. With a newfound determination, he slipped his hand inside your panties, his fingers finally making contact with your wet, aching core. You let out a shuddering moan, your hips bucking against his hand as he explored your wet cunt, flipping the folds, and the clit with his fingers.
You had always noticed Jeonghan's hands, often daydreaming about how they might feel pleasuring you. And now, here you were, living out that fantasy. You murmured against his lips, "Put your fingers inside me."
Jeonghan moaned softly at your words, the sensitivity in his voice making you even more aroused. He gently slid a slender finger inside you, your pussy immediately clenching tight around him. The sensation made you clap a hand over your mouth as your hips shuddered involuntarily.
"Can I put another one in?" he asked, his voice filled with curiosity.
You moaned in response, clenching around his finger to let him know you wanted more.
So he took this as a yes.
He carefully inserted a second finger. You sobbed with pleasure, grabbing his arm and burying your open mouth against his shoulder. The fact that Jeonghan looked so innocent and focused while doing this made you even hornier.
"You're doing so fucking good, Jeonghan," you panted, motivating him to continue. "Your fingers feel so amazing inside me. Keep going, just like that."
His cheeks grew red at the lack of filter in your words, but he continued, determined to make you feel as good as possible. When his fingers brushed upwards, hitting a particularly sensitive spot inside you, you let out a loud, pornographic moan.
Jeonghan froze for a moment, realizing he had hit a good spot, making it clear he needed to do that again.
He repeated the motion, and your reaction was immediate, your body arching with pleasure. You grew impatient, quickly taking off your shorts and panties, spreading your legs wider for him.
Jeonghan's eyes widened as he saw your pussy, wet and throbbing, his hand already soaked from your arousal, and the creamy sound of your juices nearly overwhelmed him.
"Jeonghan, I need more," you gasped, your voice dripping with need. "Please, keep doing that. It feels so good. You’re making me so wet."
He continued to move his fingers, now more confidently, brushing that sensitive spot again and again. "Like this?" he asked, his voice husky with arousal.
"Yes, just like that," you moaned, your hips rocking against his hand. "You’re so good at this, Jeonghan. I’ve wanted this for so long. Your fingers feel so perfect inside me."
His blush deepened, but he didn’t stop. If anything, your words spurred him on, making him want to please you even more. The intensity of your arousal drove him wild, and he couldn't help but marvel at how your body responded to his touch.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice shaky. "I can't believe this is happening."
"It is," you panted, your eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "And it's even better than I imagined. Don't stop, Jeonghan. Please, don't stop."
He nodded, focusing on the rhythm that made you moan so deliciously. The room filled with the sounds of your pleasure, the creamy wetness of your pussy.
"God, Jeonghan, look at how wet you make me," you moaned, your voice dripping with need. "I want you to fuck me with your fingers until I can't take it anymore."
He swallowed hard, his eyes wide with arousal–and awe.
He felt you were near. Your breath hesitated, your fingers clenched around his arm, your pussy tightened around his fingers, and your mouth fell open in a perfect 'O'.
You came back from your orgasm with a shuddering moan, squirming and closing your legs together as the waves of pleasure rolled through you.
Jeonghan waited for you to compose yourself, slowly withdrawing his fingers. A line of cum connected his finger and your pussy, and the sight made your breath hitch again. You raised your hand and palmed his cock through his jeans, causing Jeonghan to tremble and a whimper to leave his mouth.
"Are you going to let me touch you?" you asked, your voice low and seductive.
Jeonghan nodded, lowering his jeans and boxers to his knees. His cock sprang free, landing against his thigh. Your eyes widened in awe at the sight. His long cock was flushed a deep pink, almost red, with pre-cum dripping from the tip as if he had already cum. His balls looked full, heavy with need.
Seeing you almost 'appreciating the view' Jeonghan blushed and said shyly, "Y/N-nie, don't look at me like that."
You teased him with a smirk, "Like what, Jeonghan? Like you're the most delicious thing I've ever seen? Because you are. Your cock is so beautiful, I can't wait to feel it in my mouth, to taste you."
Jeonghan's blush deepened, but his cock twitched in response to your words. "R-really?" he stammered, his shyness evident.
You leaned in closer, your hand wrapping around his shaft, feeling the weight and heat of him. "Really," you purred. "I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel. Do you want that, Jeonghan? Do you want me to suck your cock, to take you in my mouth and make you cum?"
His eyes fluttered closed, a soft moan escaping his lips. "Yes, please," he whispered, his voice trembling with anticipation.
You leaned forward, your breath ghosting over the head of his cock, making him shiver. "Good boy," you whispered, before taking him into your mouth. The taste of his pre-cum was salty and sweet, and you moaned around his length, the vibrations making him gasp.
You worked your mouth up and down his shaft, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking him deeper. Jeonghan's hands clenched the sheets, his hips bucking slightly as he tried to control himself. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and the sight of you with his cock in your mouth made him groan.
"Y/N, that feels so good," he panted, his voice rough with need. "Please, don't stop."
You hummed around him, taking him even deeper, your throat relaxing as you swallowed around his length.
His reaction was immediate, a choked moan spilling from his lips as his hips jerked.
"You liked that, didn't you?" you teased, pulling back to lick a long stripe up the underside of his cock. "You like it when I take you deep, when I make you feel so good."
"Yes," he gasped, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "I love it. Please, more."
You took him back into your mouth, your hand pumping the base of his cock as you bobbed your head. Jeonghan's moans grew louder, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. You could feel him getting closer, his cock twitching in your mouth, his thighs trembling.
"I'm gonna– Hm!" his voice was strained. "Y/N, I'm so close."
You didn't stop, your mouth working him faster, harder, determined to make him cum. Jeonghan's body tensed, his moans turning into desperate whimpers as he reached his peak. With a final, shuddering gasp, he came, his hot cum filling your mouth.
You swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him, before pulling back and looking up at him with a satisfied smile. Jeonghan's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.
He was fucked. That was the only thought running through Jeonghan's mind as he lay there, his body still trembling from his orgasm. The way you were looking at him right now, with a burning gaze that promised so much more, was driving him wild. The kind features you normally wore had given way to a predatory look, and he found it incredibly arousing.
You pushed him gently, making him lie back on the bed. You helped him take off his shirt, your hands gliding over his smooth skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your eyes never left his as you moved lower, and lower, until you were level with his chest.
Jeonghan's breath hitched as you licked around his nipple, your warm tongue sending jolts of pleasure through him. Your other hand slid down his ribcage until you reached his other nipple, pinching it weakly. He was hazy, his mind clouded with desire, and he couldn't stop the moans that escaped his lips.
"Do you enjoy that?" you teased, your voice sultry and low. "I love hearing you moan like this."
Jeonghan sucked in a breath, trying to stop himself from moaning–like it was something bad.. The effort made him tremble, especially when your teeth grazed his sensitive bud.
"Jeonghan," you murmured, your voice a tantalizing whisper. "I want to hear you. Don't hold back."
He looked at you, his eyes wide and filled with submission. "Please," he whispered, his voice shaky. "Don't stop."
Your smile was wicked as you continued your ministrations, licking and nibbling on his nipples, alternating between the two. Jeonghan's moans grew louder, more desperate, as you pushed him further into a haze of pleasure.
"Good boy," you purred, your breath hot against his skin. "Just let go. Let me hear how good I'm making you feel."
Jeonghan's head fell back against the pillow, his body arching into your touch. "Oh, God," he moaned, his voice breathless. "It feels so good."
You felt a surge of satisfaction at his words, your own arousal intensifying. You moved your mouth lower, kissing and nipping at his skin, leaving a trail of love bites down his torso. His body was like a live wire beneath you, every touch sending shivers through him.
"You're so sensitive," you murmured against his skin, your tongue dipping into his navel. "I love it. I love making you feel this way."
Jeonghan's hands gripped the sheets, his knuckles white from the effort. "Y/N, please," he begged, his voice a raw whisper. "I need you."
You paused, looking up at him with a teasing smile. "Need me? How do you need me, Jeonghan? Tell me what you want."
His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but his desire overpowered his shyness. "I want you," he breathed. "I want to feel you. Please, Y/N."
You moved back up his body, straddling his hips and leaning down to kiss him deeply. His hands found your waist, holding you tightly as he returned the kiss with fervor.
"You're going to get everything you want," you promised against his lips. "But first, I want to hear you moan again. Can you do that for me, Jeonghan?"
He nodded, his eyes dark with lust. "Yes," he whispered. "I'll moan for you. I'll do anything for you."
With that, you resumed your teasing, your hands and mouth working together to drive him to the edge once more. And true to his word, Jeonghan didn't hold back. His moans filled the room.
You reached into the drawer beside your bed, picking up a condom and ripping it open with your teeth. The sound made Jeonghan's breath hitch, and his eyes followed your every move. You slid the condom onto his cock, smiling as you felt his stomach tremble at the contact.
Straddling him, you positioned yourself over his length, teasing him by sliding the head of his cock in and out of your dripping entrance. Jeonghan's whines grew louder, his hips bucking slightly as he tried to push deeper into you.
"Please," he begged, his voice strained with need.
You tilted your head, pretending not to understand. "Please what, Jeonghan? What do you want me to do?"
He blushed, his shyness momentarily overpowering his desperation. "Please, put it in," he whispered.
You continued to tease him, moving just the tip of his cock in and out of you, creating a delicious friction. "Put what in, Jeonghan?" you asked, your voice dripping with seduction. "I want to hear you say it."
Jeonghan's cheeks flushed even deeper, but his desire was too strong to hold back. "Let me slide inside your pussy." he finally whispered, his voice shaky and embarrassed.
You smiled wickedly, loving the way the dirty words sounded coming from someone as innocent-looking as him. "Good boy," you murmured. "That's what I wanted to hear"
Slowly, you sank down onto him, taking your time to savor the sensation of him filling you up. Jeonghan's eyes fluttered closed, his mouth falling open in a silent moan. His hands gripped your hips, holding you tight as he tried to keep from thrusting up into you.
"Fuck," he gasped, his voice raw with pleasure. "You feel so good."
You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear. "You feel amazing too, Jeonghan," you whispered. "I love how you fill me up. Do you like being inside me?"
"Yes," he groaned, his hands tightening on your hips. "I love it. I love feeling you around me."
You started to move, rocking your hips slowly, savoring the way his cock stretched you. Jeonghan's face was a picture of pure ecstasy, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure, his lips parted as he panted for breath. Every thrust made his stomach tighten, his muscles quivering with the effort to hold back.
"You look so beautiful like this," you murmured, your hands sliding up his chest. "So vulnerable. I love making you feel good."
Jeonghan's eyes fluttered open, his gaze meeting yours. "Y/N, please," he whimpered. "I need more. Please, fuck me harder."
You smiled, picking up the pace, your movements becoming more urgent. "You like it when I fuck you hard, hm?" you teased, your voice low and seductive.
"Yes," he gasped, his head falling back against the pillow. "I love it. Please, don't stop."
You rode him harder, your hips slamming down onto his with a rhythm that drove both of you wild. Jeonghan's moans grew louder, more desperate, as he felt himself getting closer to the edge.
"You're such a good boy," you purred, your hands sliding up to his shoulders for better leverage. "You take my pussy so well. Do you want to cum for me, Jeonghan?"
"Yes," he cried out, his voice breaking with need. "Please, let me cum. I need to cum so bad."
As you rode him harder and harder, he could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. His body tensed, his breath hitched, and he could barely form coherent thoughts as pleasure consumed him entirely.
"You're going to cum again?" you asked.
Jeonghan tried to answer, he really did. But when he felt the waves of pleasure crashing over him, all he could do was surrender to the overwhelming sensation. His eyes rolled back, his back arched, and he came inside the condom with a primal moan, his entire body trembling with release.
Your name fell from his lips over and over again, like a mantra, as he rode out his orgasm. He felt like he was floating, as you continued to move above him, drawing out every last drop of pleasure.
When the intensity finally subsided, Jeonghan's body relaxed, completely spent. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath, his body still tingling with the aftershocks of his second orgasm.
You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. "You were amazing, baby." you murmured, your voice soft and tender.
Feeling Jeonghan's sensitivity beneath you, you decided to shift your focus. You didn't want to push him too far, especially after the intense release he just experienced. So, you brought his thumb to your lips, spitting on it to moisten it before guiding it down to your swollen clit.
His touch was tentative at first, but as you encouraged him, he grew more confident, his finger tracing circles on your sensitive bud. You could feel the pressure building within you, your body responding eagerly to his touch despite the softness of his cock inside you.
As he continued to stimulate you, you could feel yourself squeezing around his cock, your walls clenching involuntarily as pleasure washed over you. Your orgasm approached rapidly, fueled by the dual sensations of his finger on your clit and his cock filling your cunt.
You guided the rhythm of his finger, matching it to the pace that drove you wild. With each circle, each stroke, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
"Right there," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't stop, Jeonghan. Keep going."
His movements became more urgent, more insistent, as he worked you towards your peak. Your breaths came in short, ragged gasps, your body trembling with anticipation.
And then, with a shuddering moan, your orgasm crashed over you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being. Your muscles tensed, your back arched, as you cried out his name.
Jeonghan continued to finger you through your climax, his touch gentle yet firm, prolonging the intensity of your pleasure until you were completely spent.
Feeling Jeonghan's finger continue to work you through the aftershocks of your orgasm, you couldn't help but laugh softly at the oversensitivity coursing through your body. Sensations danced along your skin, making every touch, every caress feel electrifying.
You gently guided his hand away from your clit, needing a moment to catch your breath and revel in the lingering waves of pleasure. With a satisfied sigh, you reached down, taking his cock in your hand and sliding it out of your pussy. It was still slick with your arousal, and you couldn't help but admire the sight of it, flushed and spent.
Turning towards him, you captured his lips in a sweet, lingering kiss, savoring the taste of him on your tongue. As you pulled back, you met his gaze, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.
Leaning in close, you whispered into his ear, your breath hot against his skin, "You know, Jeonghan, I still need to fuck you with your glasses on."
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lilacwants · 3 months
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million dollar man.
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18+ notes: my sweet, flawed english man:’). summary: billy butcher finds solace and deepens his bond with you during a tender, intimate night after a rough day. warnings: soft billy, mature content, oral (f! receiving). discretion is advised. word count: 1.7k
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part 2.
You knew Butcher had a temper, a way of seeing red that could make anyone in their right mind stay clear of his path. But it was different with you. He had a soft spot, a rare vulnerability that he guarded jealously from the rest of the world. But tonight, he was late. And that wasn’t like him.
The clock on the wall ticked louder as the minutes dragged on. You tried to focus on the book in your lap, but your mind kept wandering back to Butcher. The scars that crisscrossed his back, the shadows that darkened his eyes, the rare smiles that lit up his face. He was complicated, infuriating, but he was also the man you’d come to care for more deeply than you’d ever thought possible.
The door creaked open and you snapped your head up. Butcher stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dim light from the hallway. He looked exhausted, his shoulders slumped and his usually sharp eyes dulled by fatigue.
“Hey,” you said softly, closing your book and standing up.
“Hey, love,” he replied, his voice rough around the edges. He stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him, and you noticed the blood staining his shirt.
“Jesus, Billy, you’re hurt,” you exclaimed, rushing over to him. He waved you off, but you could see the pain etched on his face.
“Just a scratch,” he muttered, but you weren’t convinced. You guided him to the couch, making him sit down while you went to fetch the first aid kit.
When you returned, Butcher had already started to unbutton his shirt, revealing a nasty gash on his side. You winced at the sight, but kept your expression neutral. He didn’t need pity; he needed someone who could help.
“Hold still,” you said, kneeling beside him and carefully cleaning the wound. He hissed through his teeth but didn’t flinch away.
“Bloody hell, that stings,” he grumbled.
“Well, maybe next time don’t pick fights with people twice your size,” you teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. He snorted, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“Can’t help it. It’s in me nature.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah, well, your nature’s going to get you killed one of these days.”
“Not if you keep patchin’ me up,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. There was a sincerity in his gaze that took you by surprise. You finished bandaging him up and sat back, feeling the weight of his stare.
“Why do you do it?” he asked suddenly. “Why do you stay?”
The question caught you off guard. You’d asked yourself the same thing many times, especially on nights like these when the danger seemed too close. But the answer was always the same.
“Because I care about you,” you said simply. “And because I know there’s more to you than what everyone else sees.”
He looked away, his jaw tightening. “I’m not a good man, love. I’ve done things…”
“We’ve all done things,” you interrupted gently. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve a chance to be better.”
He didn’t respond, but you could see the internal struggle playing out on his face. You reached out, taking his hand in yours, and squeezed it gently.
“You don’t have to do this alone, Billy. Let me help.”
He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m scared,” he admitted in a whisper, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.
“Of what?” you asked softly.
“Of losing you. Of letting you in and then watching you walk away.”
Your heart ached at his words. You knew he’d been hurt before, that he carried more scars on the inside than the ones that marred his skin. But you also knew that he was worth the risk.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. “Not as long as you want me here.”
He looked up, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deceit. Finding none, he nodded slowly. “I want you here. More than anything.”
You smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. He kissed you back, his grip on your hand tightening as if afraid you might slip away.
The apartment was quiet, the only sound the gentle hum of the refrigerator and the distant traffic outside. Butcher and you had spent the evening wrapped up in each other, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten as you enjoyed a rare moment of peace. The bandage on his side was a stark reminder of the dangers he faced daily, but tonight, you wanted to focus on the here and now.
Butcher's hands roamed your back, his touch firm yet tender as he pulled you closer on the couch. You could feel the heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingers. His lips brushed against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.
"You're beautiful, you know that?" he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and intoxicating.
You smiled, threading your fingers through his dark hair. "You're not so bad yourself, Butcher."
He chuckled, the sound low and gravelly, vibrating against your throat. "Not sure what I did to deserve you, love."
"You're not getting rid of me that easily," you teased, tilting your head to capture his lips in a soft kiss. The kiss deepened, growing more urgent as he pressed you back against the cushions. His hands slipped under your shirt, caressing your sides with a possessive tenderness that made your heart race.
"Let me show you how much I need you," he whispered, his voice rough with desire.
Before you could respond, he was lifting your shirt over your head, his eyes darkening with hunger as he took in the sight of you.
"Billy," you breathed, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as he trailed kisses down your chest, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin. He paused at the waistband of your pants, his gaze locking with yours.
"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice softer now, laced with an unexpected vulnerability.
"Yes," you replied, your voice trembling with anticipation. "Please."
With a growl of approval, he undid your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear in one swift motion. You were left exposed before him, your skin tingling with the cool air and the intensity of his gaze.
"Fuck, you're perfect," he murmured, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread them apart. He lowered himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh.
You gasped at the sensation, your fingers tangling in his hair as he trailed kisses closer to your core. The first touch of his tongue against your folds sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your back arching off the couch.
"Billy," you moaned, your voice barely more than a whisper. He groaned in response, his hands holding your hips steady as he delved deeper, his tongue swirling around your clit with a skill that left you breathless.
He took his time, alternating between gentle licks and firm sucks, his eyes watching your every reaction. You could feel the tension building inside you, the pleasure mounting with every flick of his tongue. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.
"Please, don't stop," you begged, your fingers tightening in his hair as you teetered on the brink of release. He growled against you, the vibrations sending a shockwave of pleasure through you that pushed you over the edge.
Your orgasm crashed over you, your body convulsing with the intensity of it. Butcher didn't stop, his tongue continuing its relentless assault as he milked every last drop of pleasure from you. You cried out his name, your vision blurring as waves of ecstasy washed over you.
Finally, when you could take no more, he pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. He crawled up your body, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left you breathless all over again.
"You taste fucking amazing," he growled against your mouth, his hands cradling your face as he kissed you deeply. You could taste yourself on his lips, the intimate act only heightening your desire for him.
"I need you, Billy," you whispered, your voice raw with need. "I need all of you."
He didn't need any more encouragement. In one fluid motion, he was shedding his clothes, his body pressing against yours as he settled between your legs. You could feel the heat of him, the hard length of his cock pressing against your entrance.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rough with restraint. "I don't want to hurt you."
"I'm sure," you replied, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. "I want you. All of you."
With a groan, he entered you, the sensation overwhelming as he filled you completely.
You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as he began to move, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure through your body.
He set a steady rhythm, his movements growing more urgent as he lost himself in you. You met him thrust for thrust, your bodies moving together in harmony.
The world outside ceased to exist, the only thing that mattered was the connection between you, the unspoken promises and the love that bound you together.
As you neared the edge once more, you felt him falter, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered your name. With a final, shuddering thrust, you both tumbled over the edge together, your cries of pleasure mingling in the stillness of the night.
Afterward, you lay tangled in each other's arms, the sweat cooling on your skin as you caught your breath. Butcher pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hold on you gentle but unyielding.
"I love you," he murmured, the words carrying a weight that made your heart swell.
"I love you too," you replied, your voice filled with a certainty that left no room for doubt.
In that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would always be his side. He was your million dollar man after all.
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itaipava · 11 months
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— f1 boys apologizing after a fight.
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˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS
you’re lying back-to-back in bed, neither able to sleep. at some point in the night, he gives in and you feel a hand on your arm, lips pressed against your shoulder, “will you let me hold you? i promise we will talk about it tomorrow.” as you eventually nod in agreement, you can feel him smile against your skin. he wraps his arms around you, whispering a faint ‘i’m sorry’ before you both finally drift off to sleep with much lighter hearts.
˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO
you come home to find him seated on the couch in front of the tv, surrounded by a cozy blanket and a bunch of pillows. he tries to act cool about it, “oh hey, i was just about to watch a movie. you can join if you want.” you almost can’t fight the smile forming on your face as you notice your favorite snacks as well as two cups of hot cocoa on the table. you try to act unfazed and walk past him when he grabs your wrist, “oh come on, it’s your favorite movie and i made the hot cocoa for you myself,” he says then his expression softens, “i’m sorry. can we make up, please? it sucks fighting with you.”
˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ
he apologizes through touch; you guys may not be on speaking terms but at the end of the day, he relents once the cold anger fades. you’re standing by the corner in the kitchen at night, lost in your own thoughts until you feel a pair of arms around you from behind; your body instinctively tenses but it relaxes once you recognize who it is. he quietly holds you in a back-hug for a long while before whispering a soft ‘i’m so sorry. i love you,’
˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC
he apologizes unreservedly and sincerely with a straight face. his face is pretty passive and aloof but somehow, the emotions and the genuineness is evident in his voice - very subtle voice cracks, hoarse tone. probably sits down and talks about the argument and the cause of it and what you both can do to fix the problem. then he hugs you, light-heartedly saying, “fighting with you is exhausting; i think that just took ten years off my life.” then kisses you, murmuring more apologies against your lips.
˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON
he normally needs time alone to process his emotions and thoughts, which is why he decides to sleep on the couch for the night and he leaves for a while before you wake up in the morning. but he doesn’t leave the house without making you your favorite breakfast, drink, and writing a little note that reads: went for a run, will be back soon. i’m sorry about last night. and he finishes it off with his name, followed by a random, cute doodle.
˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI
arguments with him rarely lasts long; he wants to make up and move on from it as quickly as possible. you’re both lying in bed, facing away from each other, both awake and feeling equally guilty. then you roll over and turn around to apologize at the same time. after a moment of gazing at each other, you break into soft giggles and he chuckles as he pulls you into his chest, mumbling apologies and sweet words.
˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN
he awkwardly does little things for you; when you drop a pen, he picks it up and hands it to you without a word; when he sees that you’ve forgotten to take the towel into the bathroom, he wordlessly leaves a fresh one by the door. when he’s having a snack and he sees you pass by, he offers you some. if you accept it, he expectantly looks at you. “sooo, we good?” when you respond with a nod, he lets out big sigh of relief before hugging you; “i’m really sorry, y/n,”
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saeist · 4 months
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a/n: alternate universe where touya didn't go insane and goes to UA :] dedicated to the loml @saerins cus we're on our touya brainrot + went a little insane with this instead...
"jesus doll, excited now are we?" touya muses, a smirk on his lips as he lets you push him inside your small and cramped bathroom.
rolling your eyes, you motioned him to sit down on the toilet lid while you prepare the shower. making sure the water is just the right temperature or else you might burn touya's head off when you rinse the hairdye off his hair
"is this the part where you remove your shirt and i suck on a titty?" touya says more of a statement rather than a cheeky question. you stop yourself from hitting the boy that has his signature lopsided smirk with the shower head you were currently holding
with an exasperated sigh and a pinch to your nose bridge, you answer him
"just shut up for once, touya. besides, won't your dad kill you if he found out you're dying your hair black? or did you forget that he almost kicked you out of the house when he saw your piercings for the first time?" you raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend who decided at the last minute to dye his hair as a sign of "rebellion against his "uptight, stick far up his ass dad" his words, not yours
"he can manage" touya huffs, scoffing at the memory of his dad yelling at him for acting and starting to look like a good for nothing delinquent or in endeavour's words, a villain. "it's not like it's my duty to keep our image of a "perfect family". if only the rest of the world knew what its like to have endeavor as your deadbeat dad!"
touya and endeavour never really got a long per say.. at least that's what touya tells you whenever he had a shit day training with endeavor. days where he would train with his dad were usually days where he'd opt to spend the night at your dorm. away from all the chaos inside the todoroki estate that he unfortunately refers to as his home
but to touya, at the end of the day, you are his home. his peace, his serenity, his anchor in this world where hell could break loose at any given moment
"don't give me that look, doll" touya sighs, shoulders dropping when he noticed you were staring at him.
"i just don't want to see you hurt all over again. you almost gave me a heart attack that one time when you showed up here unannounced" you pout, letting touya slowly wrap his arms around your waist.
touya’s arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. “i can handle the old man. it’s his problem if he can’t accept me for who i am,” he mutters, resting his forehead against your stomach
"i mean, he already stopped giving a shit when he realized i can't withstand my flames, so who am i to give a shit back after everything he did to me?" touya continues, his grip tightening
you run your fingers through his hair gently, feeling the warmth of his presence. “shhh, we already talked about this" you shush him, "all i'm saying is that i just want you to be safe, touya. i can’t stand seeing you hurt,” you whisper, your voice tinged with worry.
he looks up at you, his usual smirk replaced with a rare, sincere expression. “i know, doll. i know." touya presses light kisses on your stomach, "but I have to be true to myself, even if it means pissing off endeavor” he chuckles, the pads of his thumb rubbing circles on your exposed skin
you both stay in that position in silence for a bit. just finding comfort with each other's presence. just the way touya likes it. nice and quiet. a contrast to his daily hellish life back at his own home
that is until touya starts to feel his scalp burn a little
"okay fun time's over, doll. my scalp's startin' to kill me here" touya shudders, slowly unwrapping his arms around you as he reaches for the shower head in your hand.
you stifle in your laughter watching him make a fuss inside your cramped bathroom.
that is until, you remembered that your bathroom tiles were pearly white and if he's rinsing off black hairdye then–
"TOUYA MY TILES!" you let out a screech
"too late, doll" touya pokes his tongue out at you, hair dye getting all over your walls and cold tiles.
you were gonna pay one hefty fine if you don't clean this shit up as soon as possible.
now, touya sits on your bed. drying his freshly dyed jet black hair with a towel and you're not even gonna lie to yourself. he looked a little too good for your liking. touya has always been a looker himself but with this new hairdo.. oh lord
"why are you looking at me like you want to eat me?" touya chuckles, hanging the now stained towel around his neck as he leans back on your bed with his elbows propped. he was giving you bedroom eyes, quite literally and figuratively.
what a tease!
"nothing. just making sure that i'm still talking to touya and not his emo alter ego dabi" you mused, plopping down on your bed next to him.
touya laughs at your comment. eyes turning into crescent moons
“thanks for everything, y/n,” touya says softly, voice full of genuine love and appreciation.
your heart swells at the sight of touya like this. you would move mountains if you could just to see touya– your touya happy.
"i love you, touya" you lean in for a kiss. to which touya happily returns the favor.
"i love you more than life, doll." touya smiles lazily against the kiss, cranking his neck to the side for more access as he deepens the kiss.
moments like these with you is when touya feels like he's on top of the world and he hopes it will forever stay like this cause to touya, he can face anything the world throws at him when he knows you'll be there right by his side
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pin-k-ink · 4 months
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study session // akaashi keiji
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tw ⇢ mutual pining, making out, soft sex, nipple play, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, getting caught(?), bokuto being bokuto
wc ⇢ 5.9k
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The deadbolt thunked softly as Akaashi twisted his key, shoulders sagging with fatigue after another marathon day of editing. He toed off his loafers, inhaling the familiar blend of books and bergamot that enveloped the apartment he shared with his roommate - you, Bokuto's younger sister.
A muffled sniffle drifted from down the hall, immediately snapping Akaashi's focus into sharp awareness. Frowning slightly, he followed the sound toward your bedroom. The door was ajar, spilling a thin blade of light across the hardwood.
Akaashi hesitated with his knuckles hovering outside the door frame, another watery hiccup reaching his ears. Quietly, he rapped his knuckles against the wood.
"Y/N, are you alright?" he called out gently.
A tremulous inhale, then your voice filtered through, think and wavering. "A-Akaashi? Y-Yeah, I'm...I'm okay."
But the attempt at false bravery was betrayed by the slight quaver marring your tone. Akaashi's brow furrowed in sincere concern, fingers already grasping the door handle.
"May I come in?"
A pause, then a resigned sigh. "Okay..."
He pushed the door open slowly to find you hunched over your desk, shoulders trembling and face streaked with tears. Textbooks and notepads were strewn haphazardly, evidence of the chaotic state of your studies. Akaashi felt a pang in his chest at the rare sight of your usual sunny disposition so distraught and overwhelmed.
"Oh Y/N..." He crossed the room in three strides, circling around to crouch beside you. "What's wrong? Talk to me."
You swiped the sleeve of your sweatshirt uselessly across your damp cheeks, exhaling a ragged breath. "It's just...there's so much material to review for midterms and I'm f-falling behind. I've been studying nonstop but nothing is sticking and I'm so stressed out..."
The dam of frustration you'd been holding back finally burst as your voice hitched dangerously on those last words. Akaashi watched, utterly helpless, as you dissolved into fresh sobs muffled behind your palms.
For a moment, he wavered, unsure of the proper decorum to provide comfort without overstepping boundaries. But the sight of your dejected hunched form overwhelmed any hesitation. Tenderly, he reached out to pull you into his embrace, tucking your face into the reassuring warmth of his chest.
You immediately melted against him, tremors wracking your frame as the tears soaked through the soft cotton of his dress shirt. Akaashi just held you close, cheek pillowed atop your crown as he murmured soothing reassurances.
"It's okay, just breathe...you've got this..."
In that dimly-lit sanctuary of your bedroom, he allowed himself to admit the truth simmering beneath his concern - the soft cadence of your breath fanning across his collarbone, the pliant weight of you cradled against his chest...it all felt so intrinsically right. As if you belonged sheltered in his arms.
The realization should have startled Akaashi more than it did. Yet, somehow his heart had already accepted the quiet inevitability of the tenderness blooming between you two over years of being roommates.
Eventually, your hitched breathing began to even out, arms tentatively circling his waist as you reigned in your spiked emotions. When at last you pulled back, Akaashi was gutted by your reddened eyes and wan expression - outer signs of the immense strain you were enduring.
"God, I'm so sorry..." you mumbled, avoiding his gaze self-consciously. "You must think I'm an over-emotional wreck."
"Not at all," he replied, cupping your cheek with one palm to tilt your face back toward him. "You've been pushing yourself incredibly hard. It's only natural the stress would eventually need an outlet."
Akaashi held your wavering stare, silently willing you to grasp his understanding, his concern, the unacknowledged tenderness reflecting behind his carefully composed exterior. Finally, you managed a watery semblance of your usual vibrant smile - a flicker of your indomitable spirit that never failed to stir his heart.
"Thank you, Akaashi. I don't know what I'd do without your steadying presence when I'm a mess like this."
"Anytime," he murmured, the words carrying more weight than he perhaps intended. Clearing his throat, he sat back on his heels. "Now...why don't you take a short break, splash some water on your face? Then come find me in the living room. I'll help you go over whatever topics are tripping you up."
Your eyes widened fractionally at his offer of studying together, then crinkled with renewed determination and gratitude. "Really? You don't mind? God, that would be incredible..."
"Of course not. We'll tackle this together." Akaashi rose fluidly to his feet. "I'll put on a pot of tea for us."
As he retreated into the hallway, he couldn't deny the faint fluttering warmth that blossomed in his chest. Though he assisted you frequently with your coursework, there was an unusual anticipation thrumming beneath his skin now. Perhaps amplified by those tender, unfurling moments of connection in your bedroom.
He allowed himself a fleeting smile, letting the cozy atmosphere of your shared apartment enfold him as he busied himself preparing the tea tray. Yes, something had definitively shifted between you two tonight. And Akaashi found himself unexpectedly eager to embrace whatever this newintimacy ushered in.
The gentle rattling of ceramic cups and quiet brewing of the electric kettle provided a soothing soundtrack as Akaashi arranged the tea tray. He inhaled the grounding aroma of bergamot and lemon, mentally preparing himself to tackle your studies with the same care he devoted to his editorial work.
Just as he finished setting out the teacups, you padded into the living room - face scrubbed clean and radiant smile tentatively resurfacing. Akaashi felt his chest constrict at how achingly tender and vulnerable you appeared, swathed in an over-sized university hoodie. He had to resist the sudden impulse to pull you back into his arms.
"Hey, all set whenever you are," you murmured, rubbing the dampness from your cheeks. You settled cross-legged on the floor, back resting against the sofa as you gathered your notes and textbooks onto the coffee table.
Akaashi poured the fragrant tea, sliding one steaming cup towards you before joining on the floor opposite. You offered him a grateful look over the rim as you sipped carefully, face visibly relaxing as the warmth seeped into you.
"Okay," he prompted in that low, soft timbre of his. "Where should we start?"
You worried your bottom lip - an endearing quirk he'd noticed you did when concentrating hard. "Umm...organic chemistry has been really kicking my ass lately. If we could go over some of the molecular structure concepts?"
Nodding, Akaashi reached for your notebook, allowing your shoulders to brush in the process. A shiver rippled through you that had nothing to do with the temperature. He pretended not to notice, keeping his focus trained on the page as he scanned your scattered notations with a practiced editorial eye.
"I can see where you're getting tripped up on the hybridization models..." he mused, fingers unconsciously smoothing the rumpled pages with a delicate touch.
With that same deft cadence he used to break down complex manga narratives and storyboards, Akaashi began illuminating the organic chemistry topics that were giving you trouble. You quickly became absorbed in his low, authoritative explanations - leaning incrementally closer until your knees knocked together every time you shifted position.
Akaashi's mouth went dry whenever your raptured gaze lifted to his, those expressive eyes drinking in each new nuance he highlighted. He couldn't resist the temptation to reach out, large palms engulfing your smaller hands to guide them through the molecular diagram you were struggling with.
You seemed to shudder bodily at the contact, but didn't pull away. If anything, you gravitated infinitesimally nearer to his orbit until the earthy sandalwood scent of his cologne enveloped you completely.
For his part, Akaashi felt utterly transfixed dissecting the intricacies of organic chemistry with you. Long minutes blurred into hours, marked only by the occasional rasp of your pencil scratching out new understandings and quiet stretch of reaching for your rapidly cooling tea.
A heady sort of intimacy had descended over the hushed apartment - suspended in a gossamer pocket of time where only the two of you existed. Even when a shrill trill from your phone interrupted, shattering the weighted quiet, neither of you startled apart.
"Shit, it's Kou checking in..." you murmured vaguely, swiping to silence the incessant buzzing without sparing the screen a glance.
A tiny furrow appeared between Akaashi's brows, unable to fully mask the fleeting pang of disappointment. Of course Bokuto would want to catch up with his baby sister. He tamped down whatever misguided sentiments had begun flickering to life and refocused on the present lesson.
A new cadence emerged over the ensuing weeks - you and Akaashi settling into a ritual of late-night cram sessions in the living room after he returned from the office. What had begun as his kind offer of a studious assist gradually deepened into something richer, more intimate. Textbooks became the pretense, while conversations about Akaashi's editorial work for up-and-coming mangaka and your academic ambitions flowed more organically.
He savored those hushed interludes, coveting each fresh glimpse into your spirit and psyche that you shyly unveiled over mugs of bergamot tea and pages. You seemed to come alive at night, unfurling from your usual subdued daytime presence into an incandescent force as radiant as your legendary brother.
On nights when Bokuto himself burst into the apartment unannounced for a visit, his raucous presence felt strangely...diminishing. Like an intrusion upon the rarefied bubble of connection you and Akaashi had begun delicately cultivating, no matter how inadvertent.
"Hey hey hey!!!" The boisterous owl'd screech, sweeping his baby sister up in his signature crushing embrace much to her squealing protests. "There're my two favorite roomies!!"
For the span of those chaotic visits, you and Akaashi became spectators in your own apartment - observing from the periphery as Bokuto dominated the space with his overwhelming charm and delirious anecdotes. Invariably, you would share a look with Akaashi from across the room - shining with a sort of knowing affection and silent promise to reconvene your quieter interlude once the whirlwind subsided.
Bokuto remained blissfully oblivious to the undercurrent shifting between you, of course. But with each passing day, each fitful study session that bled into the wee hours, Akaashi felt himself falling deeper under the spell of your steady warmth and lighthearted presence.
The selfish part of him began hoarding those sacrosanct one-on-one moments, savoring the intimacy of being the one to share in your blossoming self-discoveries, your academic passions, all crowned by the coquettish smiles and sparkling glances you bestowed upon him alone.
He had become addicted to basking in the rosy glow of your affection on sleepy afternoons when you'd emerge from your bedroom after sleeping late, tousled hair haloing your face. Akaashi routinely lost his train of thought watching you shuffle around the apartment preparing tea and toast, rumpled and soft and utterly resplendent in his eyes.
It was during those tranquil respites between lessons that the reality of his deepening feelings became unavoidable, even to Akaashi's own practiced aloofness. You had worked your way under his skin, into his veins, until his every waking moment centered upon your orbit. With each night that blurred into dawning tenderness, he felt himself teetering perilously towards falling utterly, hopelessly in love.
The soft patter of rain against the windowpanes provided a soothing ambient soundtrack as you pored over your psychology textbook. Akaashi sat beside you on the couch, leg brushing yours as he leaned in to examine the passage you were struggling to grasp.
"So the key difference between the Psychoanalytic and Behaviorist models is..." His low, modulated timbre washed over you as he began breaking down the nuances.
You bit your lip, nodding along while trying to concentrate despite the incredible proximity of his body heat and intoxicating sandalwood cologne. Akaashi's attentive gaze flickered between you and the text, entirely focused on elucidating the intricate psychological concepts until comprehension finally sparked behind your eyes.
"Ohhh, I think I'm getting it now..." you murmured, scribbling a few shorthand notes in the margin. "The Psychoanalytic looks at the deeper underlying motivations like Freudian psyche stuff, whereas Behaviorist is all about external conditioning and reinforcement?"
Akaashi's lips curved into a pleased smile - warm approval crinkling the corners of his steel-grey eyes. "Exactly. You've got a keen understanding."
You basked in the subtle praise, preening slightly under his undivided attention. An unexpected crack of thunder punctuated the moment, making you jump. Akaashi steadied you with a light touch on your shoulder, fingers lingering perhaps a beat too long.
"Perhaps we should take a break?" he suggested, eyes crinkling fondly at your startled reaction. "My brain could use a reprieve from the academic intensity."
"Oh? Did you have something else in mind?" You arched a brow teasingly.
The longer you pursued your studies together during these late-night sessions, the more your dynamic had evolved beyond a simple student-mentor rapport. An undercurrent of flirtatious energy had begun simmering between you, acknowledged yet never overtly addressed.
Akaashi hummed, reaching over to snag the TV remote from the end table. "I happened to download a few of the films from that Ghibli retrospective you mentioned wanting to see..."
Your face lit up at the casual reminder of an offhand comment you'd made ages ago - pleasantly surprised that he had taken note.
"Seriously? God, you're the best study-buddy ever!" You immediately shifted onto the floor, cozying into the plush area rug as Akaashi cued up the first animated film.
He chuckled - a low rumbling rasp that did funny things to your equilibrium these days. "At the rate we're accruing all-nighters, calling me a 'study-buddy' is practically an insult to my scholarly dedication."
"Oh, I'm sorry - should I call you Keeeiii-jiiiii Sensei instead?" you quipped with a theatrical bat of your lashes.
His only response was an exaggerated roll of eyes as he settled in beside you, near enough for your shoulders to brush with each intake of breath. The movie flickered to life, casting the living room in bursts of jewel-toned light and shadow.
Though you tried valiantly to remain attentive and absorb the artistry of the acclaimed anime, you gradually became ensnared by heavy lidded drowsiness as the opening scenes played out. Something about the ambient patter of rain, the easy cadence of Akaashi's breathing beside you, it all lulled you into a deeply contented state far too cozy to resist.
At some point, you must have drifted off entirely because you startled back to awareness cradled in Akaashi's arms as he carried you down the hallway to your bedroom. You instinctively nuzzled against the solid plane of his chest, relishing the sandalwood cologne and clean linen scent enveloping you both.
Akaashi went very still for a suspended moment, the muscles in his arms tensing almost imperceptibly around you. His jaw worked briefly before he spoke in a hushed murmur pitched low enough not to disturb the night quiet.
"My apologies, I didn't mean to wake you," he rumbled, negotiating the last few steps into your bedroom with that same liquid grace he possessed. "You looked so peaceful, I wanted to get you somewhere more comfortable to sleep."
You peeled open one heavy-lidded eye, reflexively cataloging how the silvery moonlight gilded the elegant planes of his face, casting his stormy irises in softer grays. Even sleep-addled, you recognized the thrilling intimacy of being gathered against Akaashi's solidly muscular frame like a lover's embrace.
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The staccato pounding of raindrops against the windows intensified into a deafening roar as the storm system raged outside. You shivered involuntarily, rubbing your hands along your arms despite being cocooned in one of Akaashi's worn university hoodies that smelled intoxicatingly of sandalwood and clove.
A massive crack of thunder boomed directly overhead, causing you to flinch violently. Unconsciously, you scooted infinitesimally closer to where Akaashi sat beside you on the floor - back against the couch as you pored over notes and textbooks strewn across the coffee table.
He paused, keen eyes flickering over to study your tense form briefly before returning his focus to the biochem flashcards you were meant to be reviewing. A few beats of weighted silence passed, punctuated only by the howling winds.
Then, with a blinding flash, every lamp and light fixture extinguished - plunging the apartment into absolute inky darkness.
You couldn't help the tiny whimper that scraped up your throat as you froze, pulse thundering wildly in your ears. From the void beside you came the rustle of movement, callused fingers tenderly circling your wrist.
"Hey...you're alright," Akaashi's deep timbre washed over you, resonant and reassuring even without being able to see his features. "Just a power outage from the storm. We have candles and battery lamps, don't worry."
You bobbed your head numbly, unconsciously leaning into the warmth and solidness of his presence beside you. Akaashi seemed to register the slight tremors rippling through you because he shifted nearer until your thighs were flush, cocooning you in his orbit.
"Give me a moment to find the emergency lights," he murmured, thick lashes brushing your knuckles fleetingly before he retreated.
You heaved a shuddering breath, internally willing your racing heart to slow. The pounding rain and occasional crackling bursts of thunder sounded more ominous in the yawning darkness, sending fresh prickles skittering down your spine.
Just when you felt on the precipice of panicking, Akaashi's low tenor carried over from behind the sectional.
"Got it."
Momentarily, a warm golden glow began emanating from the kitchen as he lit an array of utility candles and lanterns. He reappeared bearing several flickering flames and a fleece blanket tucked under his arm.
You shakily exhaled in profound relief at the sight of him - your safe harbor. Without preamble, Akaashi settled right beside you on the floor, draping the heavy fleece comforter over both of your laps before tucking you against his side.
"Better?" he murmured gently.
You could only nod, nuzzling deeper into the solid warmth of him while the flickering candle flames cast his striking features in dancing shadows and light. Akaashi maneuvered his long limbs until you were nestled into his embrace, his chin grazing the crown of your head.
Minutes ticked by, your thundering heartbeat gradually receding to a more sedate cadence in tandem with the rhythmic rise and fall of Akaashi's chest beneath your cheek. You allowed your eyes to drift shut, savoring the cocooning sanctuary of blankets, flickering candelabra, and his intoxicating spice-and-cedarwood cologne.
"This reminds me of being a kid and having sleepovers during thunderstorms," you mumbled groggily against his solid frame.
A rumbling chuckle reverberated beneath your palms where they rested over his heart.
"Is that so? I can't say I have many nostalgic memories of making pillow forts and telling ghost stories with friends."
You cracked open one eye to peer up at his striking silhouette, mouth tugging in a bemused smile. "No? I suppose actively seeking out haunted places for volleyball practice with Kou was more your style."
Akaashi snorted softly, letting the gentle teasing roll off him with fond exasperation. You drank in the way the muted candlelight played over the elegant slopes of his profile, heartbeat catching at the tenderness reflected in his storm-cloud irises. Quite abruptly, it struck you just how closely intertwined you were sprawled together.
Your nose was mere centimeters from grazing the stubbled hinge of his jaw as your gazes locked and held. A kaleidoscope of expressions flickered across Akaashi's face too quickly to decipher - tender longing, surprise, the quietest yearning. You felt simultaneously emboldened and paralyzed by the magnetism charging the scant breaths separating you.
His tongue swiped across his bottom lip instinctively and you were powerless to stop your own from mirroring the motion. That simple flick of movement brought your shared awareness crashing into riotous clarity.
"Y/N..." Akaashi's murmur vibrated over your swiftly warming skin like the rumble of oncoming thunder.
More words seemed to tether on the tip of his tongue, weighted and unspoken. Instead, he slowly inclined his face nearer - silently beseeching for permission with those piercing steel-grey irises. Your own eyes fluttered shut, tilting up to meet him halfway in quiet invitation.
The roar of the raging storm outside dimmed to a distant thrum as Akaashi closed the last hairsbreadth between your parted lips. His mouth slanted over yours in a slow, exploratory glide of searing heat. An electrical current jolted through you, catalyzing an invisible spark that ignited something molten and cataclysmic threatening to engulf you both in its fervor.
The gentle rasp of Akaashi's stubble feathering your cheek contrasted exquisitely with the velvet glide of his mouth moving in unhurried exploration across yours. You sank feverishly into the intimate glide, emboldened by his smoldering patience to tease the seam of his lips with a flick of your tongue.
He rewarded your ardor with a low rumbling exhale, immediately deepening the lush kiss and cradling your nape to tilt your head to a more devouring angle. The hand spanning your lower back scorched through the thin cotton barrier, urging you closer until you were sprawled fully across his powerful thighs.
A rush of trembling desire flooded your veins at the dominance of his hold, the tender way his other palm cradled your flushed cheek as if you were something precious to be cherished. You curled your fingers against the taut muscles sheathed by his t-shirt, absorbing the staggering heat radiating from him in waves.
Gradually, the leisurely sensuality of exchanging openmouthed kisses in the flickering candlelight evolved into something rawer, more heated. Akaashi's normally implacable control began shredding away as your tongue tangled with his in delirious cadence, exchanging breathy moans between slick slides of intimate friction.
His broad hands roamed in smoldering exploration - tracing the feminine dip of your waist, palming the flare of your hip in a commanding grip that sent your head spinning. When his calloused thumb traced the underside curve of your breast, you gasped into his mouth - entire body arching wantonly against the rigid line of his arousal.
The barest thread of sanity had you breaking away, reeling for oxygen in harsh pants against the glistening angle of Akaashi's jaw. His quicksilver gaze watched you through a lust-dazed haze, pulse fluttering wildly beneath his flushed skin where you cupped the column of his throat. Slowly, reverently, he turned to feather a trail of searing kisses along your quickening pulse point.
"Keiji..." you whimpered, fingers spasming against his chest when the velvet heat of his mouth found the juncture of your shoulder, teeth grazing tauntingly. "I can't...we should—ah!"
The needy whine sheared off as he sucked a blistering mark just below your clavicle, tongue flickering to soothe the hot sting of overstimulation. His knowing hum ricocheted straight to your molten core, heavy-lidded eyes lifting to pin you in place with fathomless yearning.
"We can stop whenever you wish," Akaashi rasped roughly against your damp skin, callused palms smoothing inescapable paths down your trembling body. "But I personally have no intention of going slowly after wanting this for so torturously long..."
You swallowed thickly, sanity careening precariously as his midnight timbre ghosted like sin over the swell of your breasts, lips mapping a scorching path lower with every inhalation. The last coherent thought filtering through ribboned into embers as Akaashi pressed you back onto the plush shag rug - moonlight and swaying candleflames framing his predatory form hovering above you.
"If I have my way, we won't be stopping until I've learned every exquisite sound you make," he whispered, nimble fingers already slipping beneath the hem of your borrowed hoodie. "Until you're utterly ruined for anyone else, only ever remembering how it feels to be loved by me."
A keening whimper rose unbidden in your throat, hips canting instinctively as his callused palms glided over the exposed expanse of your midriff. Akaashi's answering smirk was pure wickedness, the promise of a reckoning looming in his molten stare as his hands traveled further upwards.
"Let me show you how badly I've been craving you..." he murmured, palming your breasts in a kneading caress that left you gasping and arching wantonly. When his thumb grazed the pebbled peaks, you arched mindlessly into the delicious friction, eyes drifting shut with a low moan. Akaashi's rumbling chuckle rippled over your skin, then his scorching mouth was descending to follow his deft hands.
Your spine bowed when he took one nipple between his lips, rolling and tugging it until the pleasure was near-blinding. Akaashi's name tumbled from your lips in a fevered prayer, fingers scrabbling uselessly against his broad shoulders. His free hand grasped your hip in a firm hold, pinning you to the rug as his mouth continued its ruthless assault on the other pebbled bud.
You squirmed helplessly against the searing contact, panting for air as your blood boiled. All the while, Akaashi never faltered in his meticulous attentions - suckling and grazing his teeth until the ache coalesced into a desperate throbbing.
"Please..." you finally cried out, nails scoring his shirt with desperation.
Akaashi relented at last, raising his head with a wet pop to regard your wrecked state. His eyes flashed, mouth curving into a devastating smirk as he pressed a tender kiss to the center of your sternum.
"So pretty when you beg..."
Before you could even process his words, he was lowering his mouth between your trembling thighs - callused palms prying them wider apart. You keened at the first slick sweep of his tongue over your clothed core, fingers fisting desperately into the plush rug.
"F-fuck..."
The profanity spilled unbidden from your lips, incinerated by the white-hot sensation of Akaashi lapping greedily between your legs. His dark hair fell in silky disarray, obscuring his face where his nose nudged against your swollen bud. A growl rumbled up his throat as his tongue flattened against the soaked fabric.
"These need to go..." he mumbled, already reaching to slide your shorts and panties down your trembling legs. You barely had a moment to process his intent before his scorching mouth was descending upon the throbbing flesh, lapping and sucking until your entire body shuddered with need.
You writhed helplessly, head falling back onto the rug with a strangled cry. Akaashi's groan vibrated against your core, fingers digging into the backs of your thighs as he devoured you. His tongue swirled and plunged, driving you into a frenzy of pleasure so intense you felt your entire being shattering.
The world blurred and warped into a shimmering prism of sensation as he sucked mercilessly on your clit, the sharp scrape of his stubble against your inner thighs sending sparks ricocheting through your system. You keened, bucking helplessly against his merciless mouth.
"God, right there!"
Akaashi seemed to drink in the frenzied praise, doubling his efforts until your vision whitened at the edges. He growled possessively, nipping your swollen bud just as his fingers slid through the dripping mess to find your aching entrance.
One blunt digit plunged into your quivering core, then two. You were already clenching tightly around the welcome intrusion, riding the knife's edge of a bone-deep orgasm. Akaashi curled his fingers, seeking that elusive spot as his lips suctioned ruthlessly.
It only took a few expert strokes of his digits and the wicked swipe of his tongue before the world disintegrated. Your spine bowed violently, a scream tearing from your lungs as pleasure detonated along every nerve. Akaashi kept pumping, coaxing you through wave after wave of pulsing heat.
Gradually, you came back down to earth in a boneless puddle - heart racing and muscles trembling. Akaashi's dark hair was a complete wreck, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy as he watched you through thick lashes. The corner of his mouth lifted, lips glistening with the evidence of your pleasure.
"God, you're so fucking perfect," he murmured hoarsely, leaning down to drag a slow kiss across your trembling abdomen. You whimpered at the tender contact, fingers sliding into the silk of his locks.
When he pulled back, it was only to peel his shirt over his head - revealing the sculpted planes of his torso in all its glory. Akaashi's eyes flashed as he watched your appreciative stare drinking in the sight, his cock visibly twitching in his jeans.
He surged up to capture your lips in a dizzying kiss, tongue swirling against yours with a renewed fervor. You tasted the musk of yourself lingering on his mouth, the heady rush of sensation making you arch against his body.
Your hands roamed hungrily, mapping the dips and ridges of muscle along his back. When they drifted lower, he groaned low in his throat as you palmed the stiff line of his arousal through the denim. Akaashi's own hands were busy divesting you of your remaining clothing - shoving the hoodie up to expose the curves of your breasts again.
You squirmed, grinding against the rigid pressure as the tension rapidly spiraled towards unbearable. Akaashi's jaw tensed, a muscle feathering in his cheek as his nostrils flared. He broke the kiss to reach down and roughly free himself, hissing at the sensation.
Your lips parted on a silent gasp as you took in the sight of his cock. Even the first few inches jutting out above his fist looked painfully thick, a bead of precome welling at the tip.
Akaashi met your gaze, a flush staining his cheeks as you watched him stroke the swollen flesh. His stormy eyes were hooded, pupils blown wide and glimmering with restrained hunger.
"Is this what you want?" he rasped, voice fraying at the edges as his cockhead nudged the slick folds. You bit your lip, arching closer as he dragged his length along the slit - coating himself in your arousal. "You need to tell me if it's too much, okay?"
"Yes...please, Keiji..."
Your head fell back with a broken moan as he slid into your tight, fluttering entrance inch by inch. Akaashi's mouth fell open on a groan, hips stuttering when he finally bottomed out.
The delicious stretch of him filled you completely, every ridge and vein pulsing inside your walls. Your nails scored his back as you shifted restlessly, acclimating to the overwhelming sensation of fullness.
Akaashi exhaled shakily, nuzzling your neck as his palm skated down your stomach to find your throbbing clit. His hips began rocking gently, pulling out to the tip before sliding back into the welcoming clutch of your walls.
You clung to him, shuddering and moaning at the incredible friction. The air grew heavier, more charged with each deliberate glide - the wet sound of your coupling ringing obscenely. Akaashi's mouth was hot against your flushed skin, tongue sweeping out to taste the salt.
His hips gradually gained momentum, driving deeper until you were nearly delirious with pleasure. The room spun, every nerve singing. When he adjusted the angle to hit the sensitive spot deep inside, a breathless cry tore from your throat.
"God, right there, please don't stop!"
The command was punctuated with a roll of your own hips, seeking the delicious friction. Akaashi growled, teeth nipping your jaw as he drove into you harder - his thumb circling your clit faster.
Your second orgasm slammed into you with the force of a freight train. You screamed, eyes screwing shut as the blinding pleasure ricocheted through your veins. Your walls clamped around his shaft, milking him with a spasm.
With a guttural curse, Akaashi's hips stuttered and his cock pulsed violently. You felt the drag of him sliding out, then the hot splash of his cum coating your abdomen. Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his glassy, lust-addled stare.
He braced his weight on trembling arms, dipping his head to capture your lips in a deep, soul-stealing kiss. Your tongues tangled languidly, sharing breathless little gasps and moans. When he finally broke away, it was only to press a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose.
"You are so beautiful..."
His reverent murmur ghosted over your skin, making your chest clench. You carded your fingers through the silky locks, smoothing his hair back. Akaashi's eyelids drooped, savoring the contact before lifting them to reveal that same intense tenderness.
You could feel yourself getting lost in the stormy gray, drifting closer. His gaze was magnetic, drawing you in. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, pausing with his lips a hair's breadth from yours.
"Can we do that again?" he murmured, the ghost of a smirk playing about his mouth.
Your laughter pealed through the darkened room, bright and free. You felt lightheaded with elation, heart brimming.
"As often as you want," you promised, nipping playfully at his lower lip. "Although I hope there are some positions other than missionary..."
"I'll give you all my best ones," Akaashi rumbled, his expression turning positively sinful. "Over the couch, in the shower, bent over the kitchen table...every surface in this apartment..."
You hummed thoughtfully, running a teasing fingertip along the curve of his jaw. "What about the bed?"
His eyes sparkled, the corner of his mouth quirking. "Especially the bed."
You laughed, pulling him down for another kiss - the last rational thought to filter through ribboning into a whisper.
"It's a date, then."
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bonus:
The door rattled violently as a sudden pounding echoed through the apartment. You and Akaashi froze in naked surprise on the living room couch.
"BABY SIS! YOU IN THERE?! I'M SO SORRY I'M LATE!" Bokuto's frantic bellow reverberated down the hall, accompanied by more insistent knocking.
Your eyes widened in panic as Akaashi hurriedly grabbed a throw blanket, shielding your bare forms just as the front door burst open. Framed in the doorway stood Bokuto, drenched from head to toe and illuminated by the beam of a flashlight clutched in one hand.
"There you are! Are you okay?" His wild eyes swept the room before locking onto you huddled against Akaashi's equally undressed form on the sofa. "I knew how freaked out you get during big storms so I rushed over as soon as the--"
Bokuto's words sheared off abruptly as the realization visibly slammed into him. His owlish gaze bounced between you and Akaashi slack-jawed, the flashlight beam spinning dizzily. You shrank back, clutching the blanket modestly as a blistering blush consumed your face.
Akaashi, damn him, simply held Bokuto's shocked stare with infuriatingly placid nonchalance.
An eternity seemed to stretch in that crackling, awkward moment. Finally, Bokuto swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing.
"I...I'll umm...I'll just..." He gestured vaguely over his shoulder before slowly pivoting on his heel.
Silently, with exaggerated care, Bokuto began shuffling backwards out of the apartment - gaze studiously averted and mouth still agape. When he reached the door he briefly met Akaashi's unflinching stare one last time before whirling around and bolting.
The door slammed with a rattling boom, leaving you and Akaashi alone once more amid the flickering candles in a weighty hush.
You chanced a sidelong glance at Akaashi, unable to bite back the somewhat hysterical giggle bubbling up.
"Well...I suppose there are worse ways for him to find out we're...you know..."
Akaashi merely hummed, mouth kicking up in a wry half-smile as he tugged you snugly against his chest once more.
"Indeed. Though I must admit, I've never seen Bokuto-san's typically energetic demeanor so effectively stunned into silence."
Laughing helplessly, you nuzzled into the sleep-warmed crook of his neck - delighting in the simple intimacy of being wrapped up with the man you adored after the mortifying interruption.
"Should we be expecting the shovel talk next time he comes barreling in?" you teased lightly.
"Undoubtedly," Akaashi rumbled, fingertips trailing patterns along the exposed expanse of your back that raised goosebumps. "Just another family bonding moment to look forward to."
You hummed contentedly, sinking deeper into his solid embrace as the rumbling storm outside at last began tapering off to distant echoes. A new dawn was cresting over the horizon, heralding uncharted beginnings filled with promise.
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Hiiiii could you do a fic where reader is pregnant for the first time? I need more soft!young president coriolanus so so bad
Soft as Snow || Young President!Coriolanus snow x reader
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A/n: thank you for this request anon!! I need more soft coryo too 🥹
Warnings: fem!reader, mention of death
Wc: 860
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Divider by @firefly-graphics
In the opulent sun room of the presidential mansion that you call your home, you sat in a plush chair with a bowl of fresh lychee perched carefully on your pregnant belly. The brightly lit room, adorned with decadent furnishings, seemed to reflect the weight of the world you carried not only as the First Lady but also as a soon-to-be-mother.
The door cracked open and Coriolanus entered with an air of authority that seemed to dissipate as he laid eyes on you, his precious wife. Coryo gestured the servants to leave the two of you alone as his steely gaze softened, and a small, genuine smile graced his lips as he approached.
"May I?" he gestured toward the empty space on the chair beside you. You nodded with an eager smile and he took a seat, his eyes fixed on your protruding belly which was covered by the softness of your silk dress. Gently, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. "How are you feeling, my love?"
His voice, usually reserved and commanding to people outside of his inner circle, held a tenderness and softness that sent a comforting shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but smile at the sincerity in his question.
"I'm well, Coryo. Our baby seems to be quite content by these lychees," You chuckle as your rub your stomach. Coryo smiles, lychees were a rare fruit to come by this time of year but he made sure that you were fed only the most juiciest, ripe, lychees.
"I'm glad," he hums. His hand finds its way to your belly, fingers tracing delicate patterns on the fabric of your dress, ghosting over your skin underneath. "It's a remarkable thing, life," he mused, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions—awe, anticipation, and a hint of vulnerability.
You watch him knowing where his mind was at. The thought of his mother dying during birth along with his baby sister. You knew that he was scared. Scared that maybe you would have the same fate as his late mother. But you assured Coryo, that times have changed and that you would be alright.
The weight of his responsibilities seemed to momentarily fade as he focused on you and the life growing inside you. Your fingers dipped into the fruit bowl, a lychee in between your fingers as you bring it to your lips, Coriolanus watching with fascination. The atmosphere hung in a delicate balance, as if time itself had slowed down to savour this tranquil interlude.
"Have you thought about names," he asked, breaking the silence. You chuckled softly, the sound echoing through the room, "I have actually. Vicky," you watch Snow's features contort into a mixture of emotions.
"Vicky. like my mothers-" "Yes, like your mother's name." You interrupt him as your thumb brushes over the back of his hand, a comforting gesture that spoke volumes. "I love it. Vicky Snow," He says with a smile on his face.
As you continued to share the bowl of fruit, the conversation drifted from politics to dreams, hopes and the shared future that awaited your family. Coriolanus, a man known for his strategic mind and politics, revealed a more vulnerable side, a side reserved for you, his wife carrying his child.
Time slipped away, and the room glowered in the soft hues of twilight. Coriolanus stood, his eyes lingering on you with an affectionate gaze. "I've got state matters to deal with, my dear. Just know, you and our child are always on my mind."
~
Days turned into weeks, and the swell of your belly grew more pronounced. The Capitol buzzed with excitement over the impending arrival of the newest member of the Snow legacy. Coriolanus, ever the stoic leader, became a pillar of support, attending to your needs with a grace that contradicted his ruthless reputation.
One evening, as the two of you stood on the balcony overlooking the Capitol, he wrapped his arms around you, his hands resting protectively on your belly. The lights of the city below shimmered like a sea of stars, and for a moment, it felt like the world paused to witness the union of power and vulnerability.
As the days dwindled down to the eagerly anticipated arrival, Coriolanus stood by your side, a beacon of strength. The birthing room, stark and sterile, contrasted sharply with the opulence of the Capitol. Yet, in that space, you found an intimacy that transcended the political stage.
The first cry of your newborn filled the room, and Coriolanus held the tiny bundle in his arms with a reverence that bordered on awe. His usually composed demeanor crumbled, replaced by the unfiltered joy of fatherhood.
"She's so beautiful, just like her mother," He whispers, his eyes never leaving the small face nestled in his arms. "Thank you, thank you for gifting me a gift beyond measure," Coryo looks at you as you couldn't help but let a teardrop roll down your cheek as you gazed at the future you had brought into the word.
You couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected beauty that had blossomed in the heart of the Capitol's calculated power.
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luveline · 5 months
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Hey gorgeous fic idea: gf being like "thanks for being so nice to me" and Remus is just there 👄 like baby nothing in me wants to be mean to u Being kind to u is easy
thank you for your request <3 fem!reader
That morning, Remus pulls you down into his lap with a smile that says please, gives you a little thank you kiss when your head lands on his thigh, and spends the hours before lunch stroking the slopes of your face with his fingers while you watch TV. If it were anyone else you would struggle to believe he’d do it for nothing, that this isn’t because he owes you, or that he's started a particularly tender form of foreplay. He’s just touching you to touch you, occasionally leaning down when he remembers you’re there to kiss your nose. 
You turn to stare up at his jaw. You can see the scruff of stubble coming in. He usually shaves everyday, but today’s Sunday, a rest day for you both. You don’t mind enduring a scratch whenever he kisses you, though, and you won’t complain, raising a hand to his neck to stroke skin you’d kissed last night before bed. 
He put a glass of water on the nightstand he’s started calling yours with a coaster and a nice smile, walked back around to climb into bed himself still wearing it. When he laid on his side across from you and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders, he made sure it was covering you too, telling you he loved you with a smushed kiss pressed somewhere between your mouth and your nose. You’d hidden in the curve of his neck to hide how happy it made you. 
“I’m gonna make sandwiches for lunch, if that’s okay. And maybe cut up some fruit, do you want that?” he asks, peaceful, his hand slipping down to your neck and sewing gently across it like a hug. The weight of his hand is strange. He could press down and hurt you, but he never would. 
“You’re gonna make it yourself?” you ask. He’d said ‘I’m gonna make it’. 
“Is that a problem for you?” 
His hair falls in his eyes as he leans down. You’re sick of seeing him the wrong way up but you’re not wanting to move. You should know already that he’d simply find another way to be affectionate with you if you did move, but this is too nice. He’s always so kind. 
“I’m gonna help.” 
“I can make two sandwiches by myself, that’s okay. Then for dinner we’re gonna have,” —he strokes your neck with his thumb as his voice turns to a softer shade of itself— “pasta, do you think? Something nice and fancy, vodka and chilli with heavy cream, or…” He hums. “You look tired. Can I have a kiss?” 
You pick your head up. Remus puts a hand behind your back and your eyes close before he’s reached you, scrunched tightly, cruel heat behind your nose.
Quick kiss. Quicker question. “What’s wrong?” he asks, curling his hand closed behind you to soothe you with his knuckles. 
You shake your head, and tell him, “Nothing,” though you regret this and decide he deserves honesty, and praise, too. “Thanks for being so nice to me. You’re always nice to me.” 
Remus cups your cheek. You open your eyes like he wants, relieved to find him not laughing or judging you, simply smiling. He does seem startled in the set of his brows, if only mildly. “You know, nothing in me wants to be mean to you. You’re easy to treat gently.” He rubs your cheek back with his thumb. “Baby,” he says, which is rare on his lips but said with his usual quietness, “you’re easy to be nice to, because you’re you. You deserve it more than anyone.” 
“Remus, you’re just kind.” 
“No. If I’m kind it’s because you pull it out of me. I look at you and you’re so beautiful,” —he’s laying it on thick now, sincere and teasing at once— “you’re so lovely, I don't even think about it.” 
You rub your cheek against his chest. “Love you,” you whisper, not wanting to cry and ruin a nice moment. 
“Love you,” he says back. 
Remus slouches to encourage you higher, your face sliding into the space below his chin like he was made for you to rest there, his face falling to the side of your head. He wraps both arms around you to take the pressure off of your twisted back, another thoughtless gesture that gives away how much he likes you. He starts kissing little slow lines down your cheek to further prove your point, murmuring something you can’t make out, likely far too kind. 
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aphroditelovesu · 3 months
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Yan!Husband's Bridgerton men? 🥺
❝ 🐝 — lady l: oh, this is so sweet! I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️
❝tw: none, pure fluff.
❝🐝pairing: yandere!anthony bridgerton, yandere!benedict bridgerton and yandere!colin bridgerton x female!reader.
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Anthony Bridgerton
Anthony Bridgerton is so in love with you it hurts. He's such a devoted and devoted husband to you that it's sweet, actually. His eyes shine when you are in his presence and everything is forgotten and his attention is focused exclusively on you. Hi sweet and perfect Viscountess.
Your every gesture, every smile, every word you say delights him in a way he never thought possible. He strives to make every moment with you unforgettable, from small acts of kindness to grand gestures of love.
When you wake up in the morning, it's always with a cuddle or a soft kiss, as if he couldn't wait another second to see you. During the day, he finds ways to surprise you and remind you of his love, whether it's with a flower stolen from the garden, a passionate note left in your favorite place, or a whispered conversation at dusk.
At night, when the world seems to calm down, he likes to hold your hand and hear about your day, laughing and sharing stories as if your every word were a precious jewel. The way he looks at you, as if you were the most precious thing in this world, makes you feel loved and safe.
He's not exactly possessive but Anthony can be very jealous of you. You are his wife, his Viscountess and everyone must know that. Anthony will have no problem dealing with whoever made him jealous later on.
Anthony is a husband who goes to great lengths to ensure you feel happy and fulfilled. He is your confidant, your partner and your greatest admirer. With him, every day is a new opportunity to experience a deep and true love, a love that grows stronger over time and that only becomes sweeter with each moment shared.
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Benedict Bridgerton
Benedict Bridgerton can't imagine a time when you aren't in his thoughts. His love for you is so deep and sincere that it has shaped his life in ways he never could have predicted. He became a more caring and dedicated man, always looking for ways to bring a smile to his face.
Benedict puts you above everything and everyone. You are his wife, his family and, most of all, the woman he loves with everything in him. You will always be his priority.
Every brushstroke in his artwork is inspired by you. Benedict often gets lost in daydreams about your smile, your laugh, and the way your eyes sparkle when you are happy. He dedicates each of his creations to you, infusing them with the love and admiration he feels.
Your main goal is your happiness. He is always attentive to your desires and needs, whether preparing a special surprise, organizing a romantic evening or simply listening to you with attention and affection. He wants you to feel loved and valued at every moment, and he does everything to ensure that.
Benedict is not a naturally jealous man, but his deep love for you can awaken a protective feeling. He values ​​your happiness and your relationship so much that, in rare moments, he may feel a pang of jealousy. However, he deals with these feelings in a mature and respectful way. When he realizes that he is becoming jealous, Benedict tries hard not to let it affect your relationship. He prefers to talk openly about what he feels, always seeking to resolve any insecurities with honesty and trust.
Benedict's presence at your side is constant and comforting. He is your confidant, your biggest supporter and your anchor. The love he feels for you is evident in every look, every gesture and every word. He wants to share his life with you, grow together, and face any challenge life may throw at him, always with you in his heart and mind.
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Colin Bridgerton
Colin Bridgerton is the epitome of devotion and protectiveness when it comes to you. His love for you is so intense that he considers it his duty to ensure your safety and happiness at all costs. As your husband, he feels a fervent responsibility to take care of you, and no one dares say anything negative about you in his presence.
He is always by your side, attentive to any sign of discomfort or concern, ready to intervene and offer his unconditional support. Colin doesn't tolerate anyone disrespecting you or making you feel less than special. He is your most ardent defender, and his presence is a shield against any adversity.
Colin makes a point of demonstrating his love and dedication daily. Whether through loving gestures, words of encouragement or simply being there when you need it most, he goes out of his way to show you that you are his priority. His love is protective but never suffocating; he respects your independence and values ​​your opinions, always seeking a balanced and harmonious partnership.
Colin, intensely protective, is not naturally possessive. His love for you is great and deep, but he understands the importance of trust and mutual respect in a healthy relationship. Although he can be overprotective, this does not translate into possessiveness. He is jealous at times but not possessive.
He struggles to balance his need to care for you with understanding your independence and autonomy. Colin values ​​your happiness and wants you to feel free and respected in all your choices and actions. He knows that a strong relationship is based on trust, and he never wants you to feel limited or controlled by him.
When you're together, Colin is completely focused on you, his eyes shining with admiration and affection. He does everything he can to create an environment where you feel safe, loved and valued. His love is a constant source of strength and comfort, and he will never stop caring for you with the full intensity of his feelings.
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hoshigray · 1 year
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Had the most random thought, but what if you caught Miguel by surprise and sneaked a kiss on the back of his neck when he's stressed out?
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An: Don't mind me, just feeling soft for Miguel because he's corrupting my brain at the moment, lol. Also, wanted to write this to distract me from the fact Pleasurable Practice got smacked with a community label ffs. But, tysm for the love on that fic <33, and [MAYBE] I'll work on pt ii for next week! Thanks again, you lovelies, and enjoy!!
Edited Note: Also, here's an ATSV masterlist I made earlier for your convenience!!
Cw: Miguel x reader - fluff - stressed Miguel bc when is he not - you give him a kiss on the neck - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love) - just you and Miguel being adorbs and him being whipped hehe~
Wc: 902
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"Aaaaaarrgh!!!"
You snap away from what you were doing to find where the noise came from. Not to your surprise, it's from your boyfriend — Miguel O'Hara, who's expressing his dismay by throwing another tray full of empty containers you got from the cafeteria.
The man is descending from his [godforsaken slow-ass] station, tapping his feet and huffing by the second. His brows are furrowed in anger, and he moves a hand to soothe his forehead with his fingers. When his post finally stops, he jumps down to sit on a chair and groans into his hands.
That was the third time this week. A villain was supposed to be captured and brought into the Spider Society to be sent back to their own universe; however, that was two days ago. And for some reason, this evil-doer has been hopping in and out of multiple universes. It's been a hassle for the other Spiders to grab hold of them; Lyla has to have eyes on them within every minute of every hour, and Miguel...Obviously, he would like to have this matter taken care of already.
You get up from where you're sitting and walk up behind Miguel, whose face is still covered by his hands with inaudible curses that you can tell are in Spanish. "You okay?"
The rise and fall of his broad shoulders entail a huge sigh seething out of his system. "No, mi amor." He frees his face only to rest his forehead with a hand propped by his leg. "This game of cat-and-mouse has been going on longer than necessary, got Spiders who're tired of the chase — I'm tired, yet there's more stuff piling up and—" He stops himself with another deep sigh, and you place your hands on his shoulders. "I just can't right now...."
All you can do is hum aimlessly while massaging his shoulders, his trapezius and deltoids tense with stress. You understand that a lot is going on for Miguel, giving him his space and letting him do what he does best: being a hero. But of course, being a superhero isn't all sunshine and rainbows, and you're bound to get hit with obstacles that'll hinder your progress. Annoyingly so, if you're a leader of an organization like your boyfriend.
Nevertheless, he's only one man, and you know he forgets this fact when he's too wrapped up in work. He's dedicated to protecting his peers, his home, and you. And although you appreciate the sentiment sincerely, you wish he'd remember to not go too hard on himself before he's burnt out.
You sigh through your nostrils, your hands kneading out any remnants of tension while Miguel indulges before storming back to work. That's when an idea hits you when your eyes land on the back ends of his hair, a smile creeping in slowly. Your hand brushes the lower tufts of his brown strands, and you lean down to press your soft lips on him after pulling his suit to expose his neck.
Immediately, Miguel goes rigid at the feeling of your lips on him. And his breath hitches when your hands wrap around him, pulling him closer to you as you lay your chin on top of his head (which you realize is a rare opportunity as he's taller than you).
"Mi lindo araña," You chuckle to yourself when you notice hints of red sneaking on the lobes of his ears. "The more you stress yourself, the more you look like a grouchy face."
"A grouchy face?" His tone holds slight confusion. "You've been hanging with Peter B. too much, amorcito." He shakes his head while you giggle, and you two sink into each other's presence for a little while, taking in the silence outside of the calming breaths Miguel takes. If he were to confess, it's as if almost all his fatigue has vanished into thin air when he's in your embrace. But he doesn't say anything — he doesn't have to. Because you already know.
You set your lips on his temple. "Feeling okay now?" His body vibrates from a tiny purr, and you remove yourself to stand up straight. "Alright then, I'm gonna go to the cafeteria to get something to share. Because you clearly need a snack. And while I'm gone, pick up that tray and those empty containers off the floor before Lyla has another reason to call you a 'grumpy man-child.'"
His face molds to a deep scowl from the mention of his pixelated peer's name-calling. "I am not a man-child."
You give him a look. "You kinda are."
"And what gives you that—"
"Muñeco," Miguel quickly refrains from arguing when you call him by his nickname, the name only you can use. "If you're not a man-child, why haven't you stood up and done what I asked yet?"
The man opens his mouth, yet no words dare leave. Reddish-brown eyes are honed in on your figure as you survey his reaction, and he exhales in defeat when he stands up from his chair. Your smile flourishes. "I'll be back," is what you say as you turn to exit his domain and head to the cafeteria.
Miguel watches you leave until you're out of his line of sight, unable to fight the twinge of his lips while he moves to pick up his mess like you instructed him to.
"Sólo tú puedes darme órdenes, mi alma."
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targaryenluvs · 9 months
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— love, and other things
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pairings: clarisse la rue x aphrodite!daughter!reader x luke castellan
summary: luke and clarisse attempt to ease you into the concept of you all hanging out, with one end goal, the three of you happily together, which you practically already are.
warnings: luke and clarisse r kinda oblivious, reader is loving this, fluff, worry, kisses n hugs, confessions, luke is lovesick, attackdogs clair and luke
a/n: part one here! since everyone liked the concept, here’s part two! based on the reaction i’ve toned it down, sorry to anyone offended ❤️
tags: @onlyreadz @iluvthemoonandthestars @yourmom2909 @quinnsadilla @littlemiss-fanficlover @shark1008 @prwttiestbunny @urbisexualfriend @symp4nat @dracoslovergirl @slaggylemon @readerreadereater @luv-mia @theworldscalamity @madelainelupin16 @63angel @lildippersblog @ella33 @mira-belcul18 @humongoustacosalad @yourfavmiki @karslyn @sincerely-silk @poppysrin @leahthesimp @yourestargir1 @a2004sworld @lafemmii @liballer @dxddyissue @ahh-chickens @hervegasbaby @love-swimmingwolf @chickenking067 @girl-how-tf-this-shit-work @chr1sgirl4life @dorcas4meadowes @greenlucky7 @zealousenthusiastcheesecak @jonmartinsworldfr @whoemj @dracoslovergirl @stars4salem @csifandom @livil589 @4cepink @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @abbofff @trinkettray @perseus-jackass @kyleebilinski @angelic-delilah @voidashh @craftypastadeanbailiff @jemsyg @babysharkdodorodododo @brook8xoxo @marsbars09 @babyzzlove @lorarri @jadahxx @slutcoresblog
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it started off slow of course.
they didn’t want to bombard you with the idea, so they settled with hanging out as a trio more often. it was basically normal at this point. you’d always be hanging out with eachother, talking, laughing, it was great.
you loved having your girlfriend and bestfriend get along finally, being able to hang out with both of them. but the feelings you had stirred confusion in you, and you couldn’t get rid of them. you’d always find yourself debating whether or not you wanted to tell luke about how you felt, but then the guilt would start up again. you had a girlfriend.
luke and clarisse could tell you were acting oddly, but they couldn’t tell why. were you nervous? uncomfortable? it was practically driving them crazy, little did they know you’d finally worked up the nerve to speak up.
yourself and clarisse were sat near the strawberry fields, your head in her lap as you continued to rant about your favourite book. you looked around and realised that the two of you were alone, which was rare. it was now or never, “clair,” she hummed, looking back towards you, “i, can i tell you something?” you sat up, straightening your back, “i think, i think i like luke.”
clarisses heart had been beating in her chest the second you wanted to tell her something, at your words she smiled, luke was going to freak out. “okay.” your eyes were so close to popping out of your head. clarisses temper was known, on a bad day just crossing her path could cause you to have your head shoved in the floor.
and you’d just told her you have a crush on someone else and she was smiling at you. who on earth was this and what had they done to your girlfriend?
“okay? that’s it?” clarisse took your hands into hers gently, “luke likes you too, and i don’t mind it. i— i might like him too. we didn’t want you to be scared or pressured. if you want us all to be together, than that’s your choice. i’m not going anywhere, and if luke is your friend then he’ll accept it.” you sighed, and clarisse held her breath, “how is this going to work?”
for about an hour yourself and clarisse talked about how your relationship would be, what would change, and what would stay. overall, it was just loving an extra person. of course it would be tricky at times, but as long as you were together you could figure it out. now everything aside, it was time to screw with luke.
luke would walk you back to your cabin at night all the time, obviously today would be no different. but what he didn’t know was that clarisse was waiting inside. the idea was basically to mess with him and flirt, but his soft smile and gorgeous eyes attacked your heart.
climbing up the stairs together, your hand reached out for his, stopping luke promptly as he looked at you, “just wait a second,” he grinned, “are you trying to confess your undying love?” the giggle was quiet but heard as heat rose to luke’s cheeks, “well actually,” his eyes grew a bit as he laughed uncomfortably, “i do, well i love you yes as a friend but i like you a lot. i never really admitted it to myself let alone you, but i told clarisse and she told me you liked me back. even before the two of us began dating. i’m sorry for making you wait, it was probably torture.”
he squeezed your hands, “it was. i tried my best to be happy for you but all i could think about was how much i wanted to be in her position. and then out of nowhere, i realised how gorgeous she was. the two of you, i’ve never felt like this before.” you smiled, “well we can all figure it out together no?” you stepped closer to him, hands on his face, smiling at the evident blush, “can i kiss you?” he smiled, “please.”
the kiss is sweet, and everything luke could have wished for, he’d been waiting for so long and he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to let go. your hand reached to his neck, pulling him even closer, the door opening had you pulling back revealing a grinning clarisse. “i take it you didn’t go with the plan?” luke scoffed, “plan? what plan?” the two of laughed as you all made your way inside, “she was supposed to flirt with you and make you flustered. you are blushing so i wouldn’t say it’s a total fail.”
“so, what are we?” luke questioned the two of you, you shrugged your shoulders. clarisse laid down on the bed with you next to her, and on your right, luke. feet dangling off the bed and all staring up at the ceiling, “together, i think that’s all that matters.” clarisse replied as you frowned, “but what are people going to say?” luke and clarisse got up at the same time, anger filling the both of them at the idea of you being made fun of, not them, you. “if anyone has the stupidity to even comment on it, they’ll be in the infirmary for a month.” luke smiled, “no one’s going to say anything, because we won’t let them. don’t worry your head about it.” you smiled, kissing clarisse on instinct. “don’t third wheel me now.” luke smirked as you rolled your eyes, “clarisse is right there.” the two inched closer as you laid back down.
you couldn’t actually believe what you were seeing, yourself, clarisse and luke, in your bed, strewn about and happy. all interacting, all together. luke’s head was about to explode due to the fact that he had two amazing girls, all to himself.
the rest of the night you laughed and talked, your cabin siblings joining in as you all stayed up.
speaking about love and other things.
there’s been a lot of talk obviously and i understand where everyone is coming from so i toned it down and will continue to do so.
i’m sorry to anyone that was offended beforehand, i totally understand what you’re speaking on and what you think. to everyone who was excited for the previous version, please understand why i changed it. i love writing, but not at the expense of others.
- kira
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theorphicangel · 2 months
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𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐈'𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮. | sukuna x gn!reader
word count: 1k
tags: fluff, slightly mean 'kuna, he calls reader 'stupid' :(, modern au
synopsis: you call sukuna pretty knowing all too well how much he hates it when you say that. (or does he?)
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You wake to a warm hand wrapped around your waist. Molded into a moon’s crescent, your body is wrapped within a warm embrace. Sukuna’s grip is firm despite currently being under the authority of slumber. The early August sun streams in through the blinds, welcoming you to another day with the sounds of city traffic leaking through the windows of your apartment. 
It seems like the two of you ended up falling asleep on the couch after staying up late the previous night, the tv screen glows with white letters reading  ‘Are you still watching?’
The scent of a husky cologne fills your nostrils, a classic scent of your partner. You don’t dare move to stir the man beneath you. In a deep rhythmic pattern his chest rises and falls, gentle snores leave his parted lips. You take the opportunity to study Sukuna’s features starting with his black tattoos intricately designed on his body and face. 
This may be the single moment where you fail to witness his usual grumpy expression on his face. Instead of the usual crease between his brows or the squinting of his eyes and his lips overturned into a grimace; Sukuna’s expression seems to be one of pure tranquility, unusual from his regular look of disapproval. You take note of the softness of his lips, pink and plump and ever so kissable. His cheeks are slightly puffy from sleep, you fight the urge within yourself to pinch them between your fingers. His overall demeanor is relaxed as he  unconsciously lets his guard down, a rare sight. 
The room remains so quiet you can hear his heart repeatedly thump in your ear, the rhythmic beat provides the gentle temptation of lulling you back to sleep. As stubborn you are, you fight to keep your eyelids open whilst simultaneously tracing over the black tattoos across Sukuna’s arm. With controlled caution, your fingers trace lightly over his skin. You’ve yet to ask him the meaning behind his tattoos wondering whether there’s a sincere backstory or if they were merely a creation from an impulsive moment. 
 In the early stages of dating he had subtly confessed that his first tattoo was an act of rebellion against his parents and as time passed he simply got into the habit of obtaining the rest.
Glancing up to his face, you study the intricate tattoos placed on his chin. You wonder if he designed them by himself or had aid from someone else. What prompted him to do it you wonder, where did he get his inspiration from? How did his parents react to the rest of the tattoos? But you know all too well how little Sukuna cares for others' opinions. 
Nonetheless, you find them pretty to look at. Whether he’s doing some mindless task or lazing with you on the couch, your eyes always fall upon his hypnotic black patterns. And it seemed he always caught you in the act. 
Even now.
“You’re always staring at me, creep.”
His voice is low. Raspy enough to send vibrations across your body. A stirring feeling in your lower gut appears ever so suddenly. So caught up in your thoughts you failed to notice the man beneath you stir awake, heavy lidded eyes gazing at you. A subtle pinch on your waist announces his return from slumber.
“You’re pretty.”
The words leave your mouth before you could even comprehend them. You feel his body stiffen beneath you before hearing a tut leave his mouth and witness him turning his head away. Presumably to hide the way that his cheeks burn up  and how the tips of his ears turn pink. 
Majority of people would be honored to hear a compliment, offering their gratitude or perhaps extend one back.
But not Sukuna. He got frustrated anytime you paid him a compliment. Instead of a compliment he throws back an insult.
“You’re stupid.”
“That’s mean, ‘kuna.”
“That’s mean, ‘kuna.”  he mimics despite his voice still being thick from sleep. A low groan leaves his throat, his arm leaving your waist temporarily to stretch above his head. 
A double tap on your waist indicates that he wants you to shift over, off from his chest. 
A simple pat on your head is given before he rises from the couch. His warmth immediately leaves  your body and a sudden craving sensation fills your body. His footsteps thump off to the bathroom to freshen up and his infamous scowl appears on his face paired with the crease between his brows. You observe his pink locks as he runs a hand through it.
 Messy.  Just the way you like it. Pretty, just the way you like it. 
It takes everything within your body to hold  back from calling him pretty again knowing all too well that he would end up irritating him further. 
At least that’s what he lets you think.
He wouldn’t ever admit it to you but each time your lips sound out another compliment it takes every bone within Sukuna’s body to not to hold you down and keep you hostage by laying you down and planting kisses all  across your body. 
 It takes everything in him to not reveal how much of an effect your words have on him; how as soon as you call him ‘pretty’  he creates a distance between the two of you, keeping you far away enough so you don’t hear the rapid beating of his heart; so you don’t see the way he avoids eye contact or the way that the tips of his ears burn.
You seemed to be some sort of illness that he couldn’t get rid of.  Something that he couldn’t find a cure for. 
But of course he would never admit that to you. Not ever. Not even if the entire world caught on fire.
But you’re okay with that.  Because even if the entire world did catch on fire, you’d still turn and call him pretty one last time.
And he’d still like it. 
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thank you for reading!! reblogs are much appreciated!!
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seiwas · 1 year
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₊˚⊹。this feeling inside of me— | gojo satoru
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wc: 1.5k
summary: you make gojo realize that this twisty-pop!-y feeling in his stomach might just be jealousy. 
contains: written with f!reader in mind but no pronouns are used, mild jealousy, mentions of some of the students, lots of stifled laughs and held back grins!, mostly fluff really, gojo just doesn’t understand what he’s feeling! 
a/n: split this into two parts: the first half (this one), lighter and more central to reader’s perspective, while the second half (the next part), darker, and more central to gojo’s perspective. best read after ‘so this is what it means to be in love’ because there are some references made! 
collection masterlist: conversations on love 03. so this is what it means to be in love + (extended scene) too good to be mine <-you are here -> 3.5b. —will i ever bring you peace?
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Gojo’s been… hovering lately.
He hangs around you a lot more than usual, following your footsteps around your apartment as if he didn’t just spend the night and stay in bed with you all morning. 
You’d think that’d stop at work, but nope. 
For someone who hates sitting still, Gojo’s spending an awful lot of time doing nothing while watching you rifle through folders and documents you’re meant to type away. He sits by the chair in front of his desk, feet propped up and fingers tapping on the wooden surface enough to push you just to the point of going a little crazy. 
Tap.
You could have sworn you’ve read this line already. 
Tap.
This paragraph feels entirely too familiar at this point. 
Tap—
“Satoru,” you sigh, smile half-annoyed-half-guilty as you switch your attention to the man in front of you, “do you have extra work to finish today?” 
You’re trying to ask kindly, after all, Gojo rarely chooses to sit by the paperwork he’s been assigned to do (even though he doesn’t really do any of it because it’s mostly left to you). 
He stops tapping, moving to rest his cheek on one hand as he flashes you a grin so lovesick you think it’s infectious—the corners of your lips are curling up too. 
“Just working on spending more time with you.” 
Of course he says something like this; the most powerful man in jujutsu society transformed into the ever-charming sweet-talker that being your lover brings. 
You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you chuckle—the look on your face a reflection of his. As annoyed as you are that he’s distracting you, you’re endeared. 
“You didn’t have to come with me, you know.” 
Today is his day-off after all. 
He hums, eyes set on you with cerulean sincerity, “It’s boring without you, though.” 
Strands of white fall to kiss his eyelashes and you reach forward to brush them off—his hair is getting longer now, you note. No doubt he’s going to ask you to accompany him for a haircut soon. 
His nose scrunches under the space your fingers hover over and you draw them back, “Clingy.”
—which he’s always been, but even moreso lately. You don’t know where all of it is coming from, how it’s even possible for him to be clingier than normal, but the past weeks have definitely shown you that he is more than capable. 
Gojo loves grocery runs, but only when he’s able to wander around the breakfast and candy section while you go through the long list of essentials and ingredients that need stocking up on. 
Not last week though. 
Instead of beelining straight towards his usual spot, he stayed right where you were, pushing the cart whenever you needed him to and reaching up on the top shelf for things you’d normally have to ask some other kind sir to get to. He stays close to you, body draping over yours as you line up for the checkout queue—long limbs, long torso, long everything engulfing you.
It’s endearing, and cute, and oh so Satoru, but the days after that find him following you everywhere—picking you up after pottery with Megumi (as if you can’t make it back home alone), insisting on doing a taste test on cooking lessons with Inumaki, and even joining you on that afternoon yoga class you reserved for (initially) just you and Yuuji. 
You wonder what’s causing this, why he’s acting this way lately.
“Well, I have to be or else Yuuji might really steal you away from me.” he jokes, elbows propped on the table as he rests his chin on clasped hands. 
You know that he isn’t actually threatened by Yuuji—just that he wants more attention from you, some that you give to the pink-haired boy too eagerly and so easily. 
Still, it’s weird whatever he’s feeling right now, a bundle of unrest bubbling in his stomach these days. He isn’t familiar with it, doesn’t really know what to call it, just that he knows when it hits—like knots waiting to pop at any minute.  
You stand up from your seat to make your way to him, glancing at the clock across the room; you suppose there’s no point trying to squeeze in any more work for the last 20 minutes before you’re set to clock out. 
Gojo pats his thigh, as if beckoning you to sit; he manspreads like crazy but you think it makes sense for moments when he wants to hold you like this. 
Once you position yourself on his lap, he snakes an arm around your waist as you sling yours around the back of his neck, landing a soft peck at the tip of his nose. The hand resting on your hip rubs gently. 
“Is that comment still bothering you?” you ask, scratching the short buzzed hair of his undercut. 
You catch his eyes then, sky blue with a troubled sea.
Now that he thinks about it, it probably did start with the videos. 
Gojo Satoru is a man of many accolades: the strongest, a lone child prodigy, the best teacher (self-proclaimed); at some point he was also the world’s saving grace, and you’d think after that he’d decide to lay low for a bit, have a change of pace—but no.
The man you love has also, apparently, become a social media heartthrob after garnering attention for vlogging your dates. For the memories, he had said, but of course, it’s never just that when he’s as pretty–if not prettier–than the models you see on magazines and billboard posters. The video goes viral and suddenly you’re made very aware of just how coveted he is across all generations. 
He feels the first pop! in his stomach when he finds the comment under a 10-minute video of your day out in the park. He blacked out, he’s sure, but some loser said something about how you were so hot and completely out of his league.
As if he doesn’t know that already, but it’s how confident user ManInATux69 typed that you should just leave Gojo and be with him instead. That one stung a bit; maybe even got to his head, and it’s ridiculous because it really is just some faceless person on the internet. 
But maybe that’s really how this feeling started. 
“Of course not,” he pouts, eyes avoiding yours as he looks to the side, brows furrowed.
You stifle a giggle as you wait, biting the insides of your cheek as you stare at him. A mental countdown until—
“Maybe a bit.” he mumbles after a few blinks, pout deepening as he turns to you. He always comes around to tell you the truth, without fail. 
It’s endearing, and cute, and oh so Satoru. Your Satoru.
“You wanna tell me how you’re feeling exactly?” 
If there’s one word Gojo will use to describe you, it will always be lovely. You have always been so gentle, so kind, never pushing, always asking lightly. 
You’ve sat through all his non-answers, so he thinks it’s just right, fair, that he gladly offers up his heart to you, now nestled into the palm of your hands as he lays all these feelings down, bare, intended just for you. 
He takes your free hand and places it right at his center, the space between his chest and abdomen. It’s warm as his hand dwarfs yours, forming it into a fist and twisting it into his skin. 
“Feels like a knot first,” he begins, before jerking your hand slightly as if to emulate a pop!, “then it pops.” 
And you think, that for all he sees and knows, it’s ironic that he can describe a feeling so vividly yet not know what it’s called—what it could possibly mean or be. 
“Do you think you’re jealous, Satoru?” you ask, smiling, fighting back a giggle (again), tone teasing. 
Hm, he thinks, is that what this is? 
Jealousy? 
He stares at you, lips parted slightly as you watch it register to him slowly. 
“Would explain why you’ve been hovering,” you chuckle, stroking small circles with your thumb. 
“I have not been hovering.” he snaps out of it, almost offended. 
You give him a look, eyebrow raised and mouth set in a smirk as if to say: really?
He relents, taking your hand to interlace your fingers with his, “Maybe a little.” 
Kisses are dotted along your knuckles, his eyes closed as if to ground him. You’ve known Gojo for so long that you can tell when he’s still figuring out how to say whatever it is he wants to—and your heart warms at the fact that this side to him is one he only entrusts to you. 
“There’s no competition, you know,” you whisper, the sky opening back to you, “I love you.” 
Your words are weighted, meant for him to hold and keep in the parts of him that doubt what he means to you. And it might sound a bit silly, to be this affected over a comment from some nobody, but you don’t want to leave any room for uncertainty—for your inaction to once again feed into his insecurity. 
He hums, soft vibrations flowing through his lips still pressed against your hand. Red is starting to bloom across his cheeks to his nose, and he mumbles, “Just want to be sure I’m good to you.”
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a/n: the first and second part wouldn’t have fit in tone if i put them in one fic, so i split them! the second part will be a bit darker, more serious, but will discuss more of where the feelings stem from in the first place! 
thank you notes: to niku @stellamancer for listening to me and being there when i seriously needed it writing this!! & to dilly and somi my bbgirls!! @crysugu @soumies for always cheering me on, especially during the slump!! 
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comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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Do you write for charles xavier?? If so cloud we get a reader who just keeps bothering him while he is working cause they want his attention and every one else is busy? I hope you have a good day!
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I hope you don't mind I wrote this Pre Wheels Charles
The afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of the Xavier Institute, casting warm, golden light across the vast room where Charles Xavier sat, surrounded by papers, books, and a holographic display projecting data from Cerebro. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his mind focused on the delicate task of tracking mutant activity across the globe. The mansion was unusually quiet, with the other X-Men off on various missions or training sessions. It was a rare moment of peace, one that Charles was determined to use to catch up on work.
And then, you appeared.
“Charles?” Your voice broke the silence, drawing his attention away from the screen.
“Yes?” He looked up, his expression patient but slightly distracted.
“What are you doing?” You leaned against the doorframe, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Just some work,” he replied, hoping that would suffice as an explanation.
You nodded, stepping further into the room. “Looks important.”
“It is,” Charles confirmed, his eyes drifting back to the hologram. He tried to refocus, but he could feel your presence, still lingering, still watching.
“Everyone else is busy,” you continued, moving closer to his desk. “Scott, Jean, Logan—they’re all off doing something. I’m bored.”
Charles glanced up again, his lips quirking into a small smile. “And so you’ve come to bother me?”
“Pretty much,” you said with a grin, leaning on his desk now. “What’s that?” You pointed to the hologram.
“Mutant activity tracking. I’m trying to—”
“Sounds complicated,” you interrupted, picking up one of the pens on his desk and twirling it between your fingers.
“It is,” he said, still smiling despite himself. He could sense your playfulness, and though he knew he needed to focus, he couldn’t help but be charmed by your persistence.
You sighed dramatically, putting the pen down and plopping into the chair across from him. “Can I help?”
“I’m not sure this is something you’d find very interesting,” he said diplomatically, though the idea of you sifting through the data with him did amuse him.
You groaned and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “Why is everyone always so busy? It’s like this whole saving-the-world thing never ends.”
Charles chuckled softly. “It does tend to keep us occupied.”
There was a pause, and for a moment, Charles thought you might have given up. He returned his attention to the hologram, his fingers hovering over the controls.
But then, you spoke again. “Charles?”
“Yes?”
“Do you ever just—” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Do you ever just want to take a break from all this? From being the wise professor and the leader of the X-Men? Just…be Charles for a while?”
Charles looked at you, truly looked, and saw the sincerity in your eyes. It wasn’t just boredom driving you to seek him out; it was a desire for connection, for a moment of normalcy in a life that was anything but.
He sighed, leaning back in his chair, the work momentarily forgotten. “Yes, I do. More often than you might think.”
You smiled, a warm, understanding smile that made something in his chest loosen. “Then maybe you should take a break. Just for a little while. You deserve it.”
Charles regarded you thoughtfully. “And what would you have me do during this break?”
“Well,” you said, leaning forward with a conspiratorial grin, “I was thinking we could take a walk in the garden. Or, if you’re feeling adventurous, we could raid the kitchen for some of those cookies Hank made yesterday.”
Charles laughed, a genuine, light-hearted sound that echoed in the quiet room. “Cookies and a walk in the garden, you say?”
“Maybe even some tea,” you added with a playful wag of your eyebrows.
He shook his head, still smiling. “You’re very persuasive.”
“It’s one of my many talents,” you said, standing up and holding out your hand.
Charles looked at the work spread out before him, then back at you. The world could wait a little while longer. With a nod, he reached out and took your hand, letting you pull him to his feet.
“Alright,” he agreed, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Let’s go see about those cookies.”
As you led him out of the study, chatting animatedly about all the things you wanted to do, Charles couldn’t help but feel grateful for the interruption.
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