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#aura I'm still not sure about
flipomatic · 1 year
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narmothewraith · 6 months
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I've been working at this piece for 5 hours and I didn't even noticed it so, I didn't eat and drink. Fuck hyperfocus. I hope y'all like it, just like I do :)
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Hurt/comfort hug between Percy & Poseidon ❤️
Poseidon thinking about who made his son cry + payback (aka his wrath)
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unhonestlymirror · 22 days
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A bit strange feeling of living in Lithuania while looking like... Lithuania
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whatimdoing-here · 1 year
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how small fry just hums to himself and is just... such a little light. i hope he never loses that.
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a-earthssprout · 2 years
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what is your inner stuffed toy ? 
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ari got floppy bunny 🐇
the softest of all the toys, you're sleepy 24/7 and can't say no to a good blanket. you have a very dreamy aura about you and people tend to feel calmed by your presence. there is something very peaceful and relaxing about your soul.
tagged by: I stole this from the wonderful @raichoose, who is amazingly talented & extremely kind 😊
tagging: @weasleyandweasley / @badboysupr / @ahogedetective / @lionfated / @trvehearted / @detectiveheizou / @upbeatpianist / @jardinae / @jaxxmulti / @madeimpact / @madamhatter / @hopingforjustice / @slayersaided / @codebestowed / @ofhope / @galaxycrxss​ / @electric-ecclectic​ / @lucktalented​ & whoever else would like to do this ! 🍄
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amourane · 1 month
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why can't we love freely?
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pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader
genre: angsttttt, secret relationship
w/c: 2k
summary: you're tired of being a secret and it was time to let theo know.
warnings: HEARTBREAK
a/n: this was initially meant to be for a request and i started writing it and i got on a roll only to finish the piece and go back to check the request to realise i did it all wrong lmao, so i decided to just post this instead <3 enjoy!
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The busy chatter that filled the Great Hall was one that you were familiar with, afterall it had been the same for the past few years that you had been a part of Hogwarts. There was a hint of the sunlight peeking through the windows as the early morning bustle reached its peak. Everyone was rushing to pile breakfast onto the porcelain plates but you couldn’t help but linger at the entrance, looking back ever so often to check if a certain someone had arrived yet. 
“Y/n hurry! Bloody Ernie is going to have devoured all the croissants before I even have a bite.” Hannah whined as she pulled you along towards the Hufflepuff table.
Her incessant nagging eventually made you move and you dragged yourself towards your fellow house members albeit a little sad you hadn’t seen the person that had been on your mind. You dig into your own meal, stabbing the fruits with your fork and shoving them into your mouth. There was the normal hubbub that surrounded you and you felt yourself melt into conversation with your friends once again.
A voice caught your attention and you immediately perked up at the deep chuckle that had your heart skipping a beat. There he was: Theodore Nott. Quite arguably the most handsome person in all of Hogwarts and, of course, your boyfriend. His tousled hair framed his angled face perfectly with single strands that fall into his eyes. You watched as a smirk danced on his lips as he sauntered over to his side of the hall. Theodore Nott had always possessed an aura that drew you into him. Even when you both weren’t dating you often found yourself staring at the handsome boy from your table, wondering what he was really like.
As Theodore's gaze met yours in that fleeting moment, a silent exchange passed between you, laden with unspoken emotions. In the depths of his eyes, you saw the words he couldn't voice.
“I love you.”
It’s silent but it’s there.
The both of you had agreed to keep the relationship under the wraps, not wanting anyone to know about the two of you. It would cause an uproar and neither of you were sure if you wanted to handle the aftermath of the situation. So this was what it came to. Secret glances and whispered love confessions. You couldn’t walk up to him, you couldn’t kiss him in front of everyone, you couldn’t even talk to your friends about him.
Although you had said it would be fine for it to be a secret you didn’t think that he would still want to keep it a secret after so long. You didn’t want to hide your affection for Theo. You truly loved him more than anything and it had already been a year since you officially started dating. Surely it didn’t matter that much that it was a secret.
"Hello? Y/n? You there?" Hannah's voice pulled you from the depths of your thoughts, and you blinked, feeling as though you were emerging from a distant haze. Her concerned expression hovered before you as she waved a hand in front of your face, urging you back to the present moment.
You glanced down to find a forgotten cup of pumpkin juice in your hand, its contents untouched. How long had you been lost in your own thoughts?
"I'm... I'm sorry, Hannah." You murmured, offering her a weak smile as you tried to shake off the lingering tendrils of distraction. "I guess I just...drifted off for a moment there."
“You alright? You don’t look well.” She reached her hand to bring it to your forehead, trying to feel if you had a fever. “You were properly zoned out there.”
“Yeah yeah I’m fine.” You tried to brush off her concern and you offered her a meek smile. “Just didn’t have a good night’s sleep, that's all.”
Your friend looked at you, her lips pursed, a sign she didn’t actually believe what you said. You forced another smile in Hannah's direction, you silently hoped that she wouldn't press any further
Truth be told, you weren’t fine. The past couple of weeks had consisted of your thoughts rampaging in your mind. The continuous stream of worries that clouded your view as you tried desperately to reason with yourself. It wasn’t a huge issue that your relationship with the Slytherin was a secret but gradually what were stupid thoughts now turned into ones that plagued you everywhere you went. You’d be lying if you said you were okay with not even being acknowledged as his girlfriend as he ignored you in class and everywhere public.
Your eyes locked with Theo’s once again and you saw the way there was concern etched into his face. Your boyfriend knew when you were upset and he definitely knew that you were far from okay right now. He mumbled something to Blaise who was beside him before getting up to leave - a signal for you to do the same.
“I think I’m going to go take a nap before class starts, can you come wake me up later?” 
Hannah nodded and you thank her quickly before whisking yourself away in the direction the Slytherin had set off to. The chatter faded as you walked down the hallway and you were now left alone with your thoughts once again. It was bad you knew but you couldn’t help but feel as though you were something to be ashamed of. Was that why Theo was so desperate to cling on to the secrecy?
“Principessa?” Your boyfriend gently grabbed your wrist, twirling you around to face him and you realised you had been too caught up in your mind to even notice he was there. “You okay? You seem a bit off my love.”
His eyes twinkled with concern and you saw the love and affection you were familiar with and it warmed your heart. You loved Theodore Nott more than anything but the questions had plagued your mind for too long now and you needed to voice your thoughts. Otherwise, you thought you would go insane.
“Why are we a secret?”
It was barely above a whisper but Theo heard it. He knew that you weren’t one for loud environments, preferring the quiet of the library and the solitude of your dorm. You were always shy and introverted, rarely speaking to others. You liked to keep to yourself. Even with Theo you were shy and meek but that didn’t mean you weren’t happy. There was always a smile on your face, a loving beam that would make his own heart stutter. Yet your lips weren’t drawn into the bright grin he knew, instead they were in a frown and he recognised your nervousness as you wringed your hands.
Theo would have never considered himself to notice little details. He had always ignored everyone else around him and he never paid enough attention nor did he care enough about others to recognise the little tell-tale signs that everyone did. Until he met you. Then he noticed every little detail, from the way your nose would scrunch when you tried to bite back a laugh to the way you would tangle your fingers in your hair when you were trying to solve a problem.
So it was only natural he realised that you weren’t okay.
“Y/n we talked about this-”
“Yes I know it’s just that.” You paused. The words were bubbling up your throat, you felt them rising and rising and rising and you were unable to stop. You took a sharp inhale. “I don’t understand why, not anymore.”
“Y/n, mia cara, we’ve been through this. No one will accept us. People won’t understand the love between us and they’ll try to tear us apart. My friends, they won’t understand.”
“Then make them understand.”
You didn’t get it. You couldn’t get it. Was he ashamed? Was he embarrassed? Why couldn’t he fight for you, for both of you? 
You felt the tears welling in your eyes, threatening to roll down your face. It was all too much, the constant doubt, the dread, the shame. You had thought you would have been free of these thoughts for a day but who knew that today was when you would finally break. 
Your boyfriend wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you into his chest. He felt warm and your arms loop around his body. You cling onto him, unwilling to let go. It was too late to stop the tears now and you felt them fall as you sniffled in his arms.
“Theo, Merlin knows we've been together for more than a year now, and it's been like living in a shadow. I've kept us a secret from everyone - my friends, my family - and I don’t even know anymore. I want to be able to love you openly, without fear or hesitation. I want to hold your hand, kiss your cheek, wake up beside you without worrying about who might see. And I know that there’s issues but we can work through them together can’t we? I want to love you freely…don’t you?”
You pulled away from his chest as you searched his eyes, pleading with him to agree with you. Theo stared at your figure. He watched as the tears he promised not to make fell from your eyes. He felt his heart twist at your words, unable to find the words he wanted to say. Silence. You waited. And then you saw it. The sliver of doubt. That was all you needed before you were recoiling from his touch, pushing his hands off you.
Theo was quick, he tried to pull you back, tried to keep you near him but it didn't stop you from trying to get as far away from him as possible. 
“Y/n, please, stay please.” 
His voice was a desperate plea, each syllable heavy with the weight of his love. But as you backed away, tears streaming down your cheeks, Theodore's heart shattered into a thousand irreparable pieces. He watched helplessly as you retreated from him, the distance between you growing with each shaky step you took.
You shook your head as you backed away from the boy you loved. You tried to steady your breathing but all you could manage were shaky breaths as the tears kept falling. It was all too much. It was overwhelming, the feeling that engulfed you whole when you first met Theodore Nott had spit you back out and now you were left not knowing what to do.
“I-I…I can’t.” You stuttered, refusing to look him in the eye. “I can’t do this, not when you don’t feel the same. I can’t, not anymore.”
“No.” Theo reached forward but it only made you step further away as if his touch would burn you like acid. His outstretched hand fell limply to his side, his heart breaking with each word you uttered. “No, don't do this. Y/n please don’t do this. Mia cara, I love you so much you know that. I love you to the moon and back and I will never stop loving you so please don’t do this. I’m begging you.”
“Not enough.” Your voice wavered as the words left your mouth. “You don’t love me enough and you’ve made that clear Theo. I can’t do this, I really can’t. I’m sorry.”
And then you were gone, disappearing into the depths of the corridor, leaving Theodore standing alone. Each word you said replayed in his mind. His emotions toss and turn in the turmoil he had been thrust into. You were gone. You left. He felt his heart burn and ache, pounding at his ribcage. There was a numbing pain that overtook his senses as a wave of anguish washed over him. He reached a trembling hand to his cheek, only to find it damp with tears
It was then that Theodore Nott realised it was the first time he had cried since his mother’s death.
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hiraya-rawr · 1 year
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— oh and by the way im married (zhongli) .
synopsis !! zhongli neglects to inform his friends that he's married.
contains !! they/them reader but referred to as wife, comedic dialogue
Z H O N G L I
Perhaps it's the fact that you've been married for centuries that informing others didn't seem to be a priority for Zhongli.
It wasn't obvious either. He had his day job and you had yours. To regular couples, the amount of distance you two spend would be a little strange, but time is something you have in abundance so it didn't really matter when you spend a few days apart doing your day jobs.
It was Hutao who brought it up the on the evening's Lantern Rite dinner.
"Aiyaya, it seems like everybody alive and dead has a date for this year's lantern rite."
"Hahaha! And here we are celebrating a feast with new and old friends. It doesn't sound like much of a loss to me." Venti laugjs, pouring himself a drink that threatens to overflow from his hand.
"I'm not saying it's a loss, I'm simply wondering wouldn't some of you want to spend the night with a special someone?" She smirks, eyes scanning the group. Chongyun coughs into his cup as Xiao averts his gaze from the troublemaker.
"If you're asking for my opinion, I'd say everyone here is quite special to me," Lumine smiles warmly before glancing at the two archons and yaksha, "I'm sure there's still time for dating in the future. We're not that old."
"Well. . ." Hutao turns to Zhongli. He raises a brow, placing down his cup.
"May I ask why you're staring at me, Director Hu?"
"No reason~ It's just, as your boss, of course I'm a little bit concerned. Aren't you wasting your youth by not going out on dates, mister Zhongli? I'm sure there's a line of Liyuens who would love to–"
A burst of laughter comes from the green bard. "Oh, him? On a Lantern Rite date with someone else? (Name) would surely kill him."
"(Name)?" Everyone questions.
"Huh? He didn't tell you?" Venti tilts his head.
Zhongli coughs, "Ah. . . Please don't be concerned about my dating life, Director Hu. After all, I am already married."
Silence.
A cup drops.
Tea spills (literally).
Then,
"Married?!" The restaurant shakes as Hutao and Lumine jolt upright, hands slamming the table.
"Married." Zhongli confirms.
"What! For how long? When? What's their name? Why have you never–"
Zhongli hushes, trying to calm his boss from jumping over the table. His face dusts a light pink, perhaps embarrassed by the whole ordeal.
"For a few. . . years now. As you know, they're (Name). And as for why I never mentioned my wife. . ." He glances at the crowd, ". . . I simply forgot."
"You. . . forgot," Xingqiu slowly repeats.
"Yes, it seems I've forgotten to inform everyone. Then again, is it not obvious that I'm a married man?"
Chongyun covers his face in his hands, processing the whole ordeal, "Thinking back. . . mister Zhongli always had a domestic kind of aura. It seems so obvious now."
"Wait, wait, wait! How come I didn't know about this? We work together almost everyday! And why does Venti know! Didn't you two just met! Do you even have a ring?" Hutao interjects, flabbergasted as Zhongli and Venti freezes.
In truth, he does have a ring. One he carved himself made of only the most precious of jade and metal. It has rested under his glove for centuries—
Under his glove also hides his draconic arms, golden veins against dark brown, almost scale-like skin. Proof of a entity greater than human.
"Ehe. . . about that," Venti nervously looks away, "I've actually. . . met his wife before!" He covers up, voice laced with enthusiasm.
"Yes, yes, my wife is quite fond of Mondstadt's songs. They've frequently visited the nation before."
"And you don't come along?" Xiangling asks.
"I don't."
The group blinks.
"And what about the ring? I never see you wear a wedding ring." Hutao narrows her eyes.
"That's because I don't wear it." He answers bluntly.
". . . and you never introduced them to us because. . .?" Lumine questions.
"Because . . . I haven't had the time to?"
Hutao rests back on her chair, her eyes glazed in judgment, "No offense mister Zhongli, but you seem like a terrible husband. If you don't get your act straight, I'd say your marriage won't last."
His jaw drops. Venti laughs.
|| ko-fi support / character m.list ||
~ bonus ~
"Darling, am I a terrible husband?"
"No? What makes you think that?"
"No reason. Although I believe we should try dating publicly."
tumblr has been deleting my last paragraphs why
//for some reason tumblr has been deleting my last lines in drafts so i have to type this so my last sentences wont get deleted
"No reason. But perhaps it's about time I show you off to the public more."
ko-fi support | character m.list
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radiance1 · 4 months
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Another link to this post. Meet the parents style.
So, Danny and Jason have been fake dating for a while now, and ended up marrying each other solely for tax benefits. Also, they got cool ass fucking friendship rings that they just couldn't not wear everywhere and being married is convenient so...
Anywho, so Jason has met Danny's parents but Danny hasn't met Jason's parents. Danny knows that he has some ties with the vigilantee scene due to being a Crime Lord-he still doesn't know what to think of his parents connecting the dots immediately when they only met him once while it took him more than that while living with the guy.
He thinks Jason may have been an ex-vigilantee at some point before turning to crime.
Then Danny gets blinded by rich people aura when he finds out that his bestfriend is the long thought dead child of Bruce Wayne. Frankly, he's insulted.
You mean to tell him that his could've been buying ice cream from that high class place all this time!? He shook (literally he grabbed and shook him) that point into Jason, he doesn't care that Jason never told him he was rich but he could've at least bought some high class ice cream once in a while.
Jason who was busy solidifying his power as a crime lord, avoiding his family and making sure not to leak his identity at all: I'm a literal crime lord, and the only thing you care about is me not buying you ice cream?
Danny: YES!!!!
Jason: Dork.
Right anyways, so Jason takes Danny along to meet Bruce and his fam but did say as soon as he started being uncomfortable they're leaving. The batfam is a bit blindsided by Danny, because they thought Jason was bringing his partner but its good to also get a feel for Danny's personality.
Danny and Jason did what's normal for them when Danny starts getting comfortable around the manor full of things that cost waaay more than his rent. Like half-heartedly insulting each other, being snarky, leaning on each other and other such things.
The batfam start thinking that there's more there than they know of. So they start watching a bit closer and ask a few round about questions that fly over Danny and Jason's heads. They just forget they're married often, unless it's regarding taxes.
All of this sends the wrong message when they walk into the same room and, being nosy, one of the batfam comes up to the door and uh. They hear the bed moving quite a lot.
So.
Meanwhile, Jason is trying to wrestle with Danny because this man does not pick a lane. He'll either be the human octopus (who is cold as hell) Jason has ever seen, he'll try to kick him off the bed in his sleep as if Jason personally offended him in some way, or he'll sleep in some wacky position that interrupts Jason's sleep. The last one is tied to the other two, however.
So, Jason has to frequently wrestle this man into a proper position where they both manage to get some sleep and it wouldn't have been so bad if Danny wasn't a goddamn sleep fighter. He would know, he had to nurse a bruised jaw for a few weeks.
Why do they sleep together? Listen, when you're in an apartment with not a lot of money, you gotta cut costs where you can alright?
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redflagshipwriter · 3 months
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Mamabat- enter Jason 1/2
MASTERPOST
The air was different with Cass, now. Danny felt a little anxious as he followed her to the study after breakfast. Something about her was serious-determined-protective. 
She always felt protective towards him. That was why he'd followed her in the first place. Some ghosts lied, but they couldn't do it with their aura. He knew what she really felt for him. 
“Sit?” She asked him. She gestured at the big squashy chair. Danny did without complaint. Cass perched behind him and started dragging her fingers through his hair, relaxing him.
Man. She was good at this. Top tier mothering, right here. Danny went limp. 
“I'm worried,” Cass broke the silence. She didn't sound worried. She never really did. Her voice was quiet and serious, but still kind. Her thumbs dug into his scalp. He pushed his head back against it. Bliss. “Barbara made you sad. Because you miss your sister?”
Danny tensed. 
‘I should have figured that Batman would track me down.’
Maybe he had known, if he was honest with himself. It didn't hit him like a shock.
“Tim thinks your name is Fenton,” she added, brutally sensible as always. And yup, that was it. No point in denying it. “Declared dead. In danger?”
He sucked in air through his teeth. He wasn't going to lie to her. 
“Worried,” she repeated. 
He thought about it. He really did. Danny bit his lip. 
She was liminal. That probably meant she'd come really close to death, in at least one sense of the word. Would that mean she was desensitized to it, or extra paranoid?
…It was hard to imagine Cass over or under reacting to a possible danger. She was just so steady. But would she see him as a possible danger if she knew what he was, what he really was? 
He could feel it out before he took a plunge with the whole truth.
Maybe it was wrong. Maybe it was invasive. She didn't seem to realize that she was liminal. That meant she definitely didn't realize how much she was communicating to him under her words and gestures. 
But Danny deliberately tuned into her quiet aural communication and tested the waters. “Tim is right, I'm Danny Fenton,” he said. He knew he was too tense. She would definitely feel it. But what could he do about that? He was nervous. “I… Maybe I did die.”
Her heart dropped to her stomach. He could feel the crush of grief on her heart. 
But it didn’t wash away the thudding repetition of love-protect-my darling. There was no suspicion, no guilt, no fear. It was just pain for his sake, with no calculation about how to solve a sudden problem. 
God. He wanted so badly for that to have been how his parents reacted. His eyes started to sting.
Danny sniffled. He thought it was safe to tell her. “I died,” he corrected, and he knew he was right when Cass made a little wounded sound and leaned her body into him, aiming to comfort. “Not then, but a couple years ago. I’m different now, and it’s uh… It’s dangerous to be this way.”
“Affects?” Cass asked quietly. She started to pet his hair again. “Mood? Health?”
“...Huh,” he said, because that was a sensible question he hadn’t expected. If he really thought about his mood and emotions before and after the accident: “Yeah, uh, there’s sometimes a mood thing. I might be a little more aggressive than I was before? And I can get kind of intense sometimes.”
He had thought that was basically just a reaction to having a whole bunch of new threats in his life. But would pre-electrocution Danny have been able to actually stand and fight Skulker? He had genuinely been afraid of the jocks. Maybe… Maybe he was different. Sure, Sam and Jazz were up for shooting ghosts with Fenton tech. Would he have been if he was just human? 
…He didn’t really think so.
Oof. Well, that wasn’t exactly great for his sense of self.
Cass shook him lightly. “Health?” she repeated.
Danny forced down that revelation to deal with later. He didn’t like acknowledging that he was kind of a chicken by nature, but historically, there wasn’t much evidence of bravery pre-mortem. “Uh, my heart rate is really slow, body temp is low, so I can’t really afford to go to a doctor for a checkup,” he said. “Uh, sometimes I’ve got none at all and my hair turns white.” He paused there. That was- that was enough, yeah? He was going to be honest with her because she deserved honesty from him. But that didn’t mean he had to explain the whole great beyond and his inhuman status.
“Sounds like Jason,” Cass said, after a long silence.
Danny short-circuited. “Wait, what?” He craned to look at her. “Who?”
Cass darted forward to kiss his forehead. “Little brother,” she said cheerfully. “Want to meet him?”
Uh, yeah. Danny nodded vigorously, wondering what the hell she was on about. “Do you mean he died?” 
“Died,” Cass agreed, getting out her phone and tapping away at it rapidly.
“Not like, heart stopped for a minute on the operating table and he was revived, or what?” Danny pressed.
“Dead in the ground, came back later,” Cass said. “Dead for months. Now, very crabby.”
Danny balked. “What?”
“White hair too,” she said. Then her face did something funny. “I think he dyed it recently,” she said. 
Danny huffed a laugh. “If it’s the same thing as mine, you can’t dye it.” He saw her look over his head for white streaks. He didn’t correct her line of thought.
He hadn’t thought that anything could top the anticipation of meeting Batman. But Danny had to admit the rest of the day was a wash. Apparently Jason couldn’t make it until the evening, about an hour before patrol.
Danny nearly paced a line into the carpet. He had enough energy to do that now, even without ecto. He was getting soooo much food here. A guy couldn’t even stress out for an hour without someone coming by to make sure he had fruit and yogurt or a hot drink.
He didn’t need someone to come and tell him that the much anticipated Jason had shown up. Danny knew it when he went to take a sip of cruelty-free chocolate milk (hand delivered by the most frightening child in the world) and choked on vapor.
Damian gave him a glare and snatched the drink away. “Are you incapable of drinking beverages?” he demanded. His face looked so goddamn cross but he was just worried.
Danny managed a smile. “No, went down the wrong pipe, sorry.”
Damian didn’t seem to even see the fog, so- so that meant that either he was really unobservant or he wasn’t liminal enough to see it the way people did in Amity. That was a small blessing. Danny appreciated it and he took back his drink to have something to hold onto.
That was a whole ass ghost. That was a whole ghost coming onto the property, one that felt big and mad and old. Danny smacked his lips, disconcerted. 
He, uh, didn’t know what to expect from this.
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Note
Azriel and reader arguing about what color to paint their room. (His black walls aren’t cutting it for miss sunshine)
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Word count: ~400
Warnings: None!
a/n: A little cute one :)
____________________________________________
"It helps my shadows travel," Azriel explained, a light tint to his cheeks.
You hummed, an amused uptick in your tone. "Are they not able to travel in all those dark little corners? Because you have many of them in your room."
"Our room. And they are."
"Perfect! Then perhaps a lighter shade? I feel so doom and gloom every time I come home. It's not good for my aura."
"Your aura?" Azriel questioned, hooking his chin over your shoulder. "What in the cauldron is that?"
"I'm not entirely sure. Gwyn was reading up on them and told me mine is out of alignment. She said it could be because of the walls."
"You have been just fine with the walls for the past year."
"Well—yes. I've been too swept up with being in love with you, obviously."
Azriel's small huff of laughter met your neck. "And you are no longer swept up, I take it."
You spun in his arms, eyes wide and brows high. Azriel stared back with a soft look of endearment, his arms running down your body to rest on your waist.
"I am still very swept up, Shadowsinger," you all but chastised. "Don't say things like that. You besmirch my character."
This conversation, although full of many lingering touches and soft smiles, was not getting anywhere. You narrowed your eyes at your mate, trying to formulate some way to get him to change his mind. You had moved into his room after all. But he had called it yours just as quickly.
You twisted your mouth as you stared up at Azriel, pretending to contemplate.
And then you sighed, resigned. "I think there's only one solution to our problem, Az."
"Oh? And what's that, my love?" he asked, smoothing back your hair as you feigned sadness.
"I'll just have to spend less time here, I think. I can come in to sleep maybe, but I'll have to move some of my things back to my old room. It's not good for my health to—"
"What color?" Azriel cut you off, his hands pausing their perusal of your face and hair. "I can have the twins pick up paint."
"But you said—"
"My darling, I was going to paint this room before you threatened to leave me. But then you threw that in and I am feeling a bit panicked, to be honest."
"I wasn't going to leave you, Azriel," you admonished.
"Wouldn't want to risk it."
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wolfiesmoon · 5 months
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Ratted out
sometimes friends and family accidentally (or purposefully) reveal things they shouldnt :)
characters featured: Leona, Kalim, Jade, Jack
ufff idk whats wrong with me but i ended up creating an entire (unrelated to this fic) movie plan related to twst this is mentally stable activities, truly
also unrelated but the new event got me SCREAMING how do they look so good😫
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ᐟᐟ☆๋࣭ ⭑໑ Leona Kingscholar
when hanging out with your boyfriend Leona, a little lion boy suddenly jumps him and he immediately lets you go
who is this child???
"Uncle Leona!" the boy clings onto him and you can feel the annoyance eminating from Leona
it's like its own aura thats how annoyed he is🥴
so his nephew (you presume) looks to you all of a sudden and asks "who are you?" with an innocent look on his face
"I'm his lover...?" you said, a little unsure. But when you looked to Leona, he had a look of pure horror on his face...? What is even going on?????
"What?! No way, you're dating Uncle Leona?!" the kid got all excited and ran off somewhere before you could stop him
"...What have you done?" Leona hissed at you through clenched teeth, holding his forehead
you do realise you just revealed that he's dating you to the most big mouthed child in the world, right? that his whole family will know in a matter of minutes, right? that you've basically just invited yourself to every future family gathering at once, right?
and sure enough, in a few minutes he got a surprised text from his brother which he left on read 💀
"Damn brat..." he muttered under his breath, you still confused over what just happened
ᐟᐟ☆๋࣭ ⭑໑ Kalim Al-Asim
let's be real babes there is nothing for his siblings to rat him out on because he immediately told his family he was dating you
however....😈
his siblings happened to overhear a little something...
"Hey, hey." one of Kalim's younger brothers pulled your sleeve, wanting to tell you something
"yes?" you answered absentmindedly, thinking he's going to start talking about a strange thing he saw today or something
"Kalim's gonna marry you." he whispered to you, looking around to make sure no one heard
You laughed a little. "If you think so." you pat his little head
"No, he was like, asking mom if he can marry you soon. We heard it." another one of his brothers joined in after hearing the tea being spilled
"What?! Really?!" you're both extremely surprised and happy and mad at his brothers for ruining the surprise right now
oh well, what's done is done, and now you know Kalim is SERIOUS about you
that gets you thinking about wedding stuff now...🤔
What none of you know tho is that Jamil overheard all of you
"Okay, maybe we need to scrap the whole surprise wedding proposal thing..." he sighs, making a mental note of it and preparing to dissapoint poor Kalim
ᐟᐟ☆๋࣭ ⭑໑ Jade Leech
jade is like... oddly nice to you after you first meet him
you're a little wary of him considering his reputation but he hasn't done anything weird at all so... might as well accept his gifts?
one time he approaches you with jade in tow and you think absolutely nothing of it since they're together like 90% of the time anyways
"Hello there, are you enjoying your lunch?" he just sat down next to you without asking if he can at all 😔
"Uh, yeah, I suppose." you didn't really know what to tell him and it seems he doesnt know how to continue the conversation either so u just kinda... stare at eachother while Floyd casually steals a bit of ur food
"Maaaan, aren't you like, supposed to be crushing on Little Shrimpy or something? Then taaalk about stuff, I'm bored." Floyd looked bored when he saw the two of you didn't start talking about weird stuff
Jade simply smiled at you, telling you to ignore Floyd
But on the inside he was planning approximately 10 ways to... get rid of someone without others noticing
or alternatively, just beating the everloving crap out of his twin brother if the first plan is not a possibility
"Do you have a crush on me?" you wanted to know now...
"That's for you to think about." he smiled oddly eerily, but then just started talking abt something mundane 😥
ᐟᐟ☆๋࣭ ⭑໑ Jack Howl
You're visiting him for the first time because you got curious what his family is like
OF COURSE HE'S AN OLDER BROTHER IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW
his younger siblings immediately ambushed you with their little sniffer noses as soon as you stepped in the house🤔
"Who are you?" they asked, always curious about anyone that Jack brings over
When you told them who you were, they immediately ran away to "TELL MOM" and were literally screaming that the two of you are dating so loudly that the whole neighborhood could hear
You could also hear some woman (who you presume is his mom) laughing from somewhere in the house so uhhh.... atleast she isn't mad about it?
You looked back at Jack who seemed more annoyed than anything
"Aren't you gonna... go stop them?" you asked, raising a brow.
"Nah, I was gonna tell mom I'm dating you anyways. I'm just mad that they beat me to it." he crossed his arms, huffing in annoyance
"Actually, speaking of, isn't me dating you kinda a big deal? You told me before that wolves have one partner for life." you actually got kinda nervous, i mean, you gotta impress his family good now
"It is. But I think everyone's just happy I got someone at all." Jack looked at his overly excited siblings who were still celebrating
"Wow, that's sad." you sassed him 😝
"...I shouldn't have brought you."
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serotonins-stuff · 5 months
Text
3 am preggy cravings
Jjk men ° • . • ° •
------------ ------♥︎--------- ----------
♡︎Sypnosis: You wake up in the early hours of the morning craving your favorite snack. Luckily your husband is always there to help you.
♡︎Featuring: Gojo, Toji, nanami, Geto and Choso
♡︎Warnings: none just, fluff and kisses
------ -----------♥︎------------ -------
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-----• ° • .-----
Gojo
It was rare for the both of you to be up like this, at three am with Satoru staring at his paperwork in the bedroom.
You told him that you were just going to go to the bathroom, but then a sudden craving for ice cream hit.you like a truck.That's how you found yourself sitting on the kitchen floor, teary eyed as you stared at the freezer vacant of any sweet treat.
This was probably the most heartbreaking thing you've experienced this week. Tears turned into sniffles which then led to soft whimpers, and not long after your despair you heard footsteps approaching the kitchen.
He was worried out of his mind that something might've happened to you, but he was confused when he could not sense any kind of threatening aura.
"Baby?"
His laid eyes of your slumped figure and jumped into action, craddling your trembling figure in his warm arms.
"Hey" he cooed, wiping your tears away and lifting your chin up to look at him. You were in perfectly good shape, so if he had to take a guess, he'd say it has to be some sort of pregnancy thing. "What's wrong sweets?“
"Toru" you wailed, wrapping your arms around his neck. He could feel goosebumps rise on his skin from the contact of your chilled flesh. The freezer was open, displaying the broad selection of different meats.
"You wanna cook?" He asked and you shook your head. He pondered for a bit, a hand rubbing your back soothingly while you cuddled up into him.
"Were you feelin cold?"
You shook your head, causing him to run a nervous hand through his white locks. He looked at you with a soft smile on his face.
"Sweetheart I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong"
You felt stupid for what you were about to say. Adamantly so, you didn't think you'd be able to go to sleep without having the cool taste of your favorite ice cream clouding your senses. The tears wounlnt stop coming out and you cursed yourself internally for behaving like this.
"I'm cra-craving ice-cream" you hicupped, letting all the tears flow onto Satorus shirt.
He didn't seem to mind, he was actually relieved because he thought something mighve actually been wrong.
"Okay, c'mon" he cooed, rubbing nice.and tender circles on your big belly. "I can't have my sweet girl cryin on the floor"
"I didn't want t-to bother y-"
"Shhhhh" he whispered, before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. "Don't worry about stuff like that, I'll go get your ice cream ok?"
You nodded, before lifting your hand to shut the freezer. Still sitting pretty in your husbands arms. He stayed with you until you hand calmed down, making sure to give you all the cuddles, kisses and love you needed before lifting you up effortlessly and plopping you onto the bed.
Like a man on a mission he grabbed his keys on the counter and went to the store. It didn't even take him more than ten minutes before he was back home, a bag of ice cream tubs in hand.
He put some in the fridge and took one for you, strolling up to the bedroom with two spoons in hand.
There you were sound asleep on your side, mouth slightly agape as soft snores poured from your lips. Satoru couldn't help but smile softly to himself, walking over to his side and giving you a soft kiss on the forehead.
His head then trailed down to your big bump and he stared at it lovingly. "Whatcha doin to your momma huh?" He asked before chuckling to himself. As the mother of his child he could never ask for more than this. You were perfect, even when you have him running to the store to buy ice cream at three am.
"Damn this tastes good" he hummed, devouring the contents of the ice cream tub next to your sleeping figure.
Nanami
Even if you had wanted to sneak into the pantry, Nanamis death grip on you didn't give you the chance. Whenever you moved he furrowed his brows before snuggling his face where it had grown comfortable in the crook of your neck.
You couldn't help but crave your favorite flavor of ice cream, which had somehow ran out a week ago.
You wouldn't be able to go to the store and buy it because Kento would never let you lay a hand on store bought food. He makes everything from scratch, just for you with the freshest ingredients in the house. The store bought one didn't even come close to being as good as his, which takes a few hours to make. It would probably be bothersome to tell him you wanted some at this time of the hour.
You shifted uncomfortably, rubbing your husbands callused knuckles which pulled your chest close to his. This was painful, having to endure such a craving that only the sleeping man next to you could provide.
You sighed once more before shuffling in his arms, and finally you heard him shuffle in response.
"Hm?" He hummed "What's wrong love?"
His voice was raspy and you couldn't help but feel guilty at the fact that you had just some him from his peaceful slumber.
"Uh well" you paused, tapping on his hands nervously. "Nothing, it's not important"
His hands traveled down to your stomach and settled there comfortably "It's important if it has you unable to sleep at this hour"
"Are you and the baby alright?" He said sleepily into the crook of your neck.
"Yeah we're fine I just- well- randomly started craving ice cream?"
He let out a sigh of relieve, before reaching over to the nightstand on his side and flicking the lamp on.
You were confused right now, more so distraught that your personal heater had just decided to get up and stumble out of the door without a word.
In the distance you heard the fridge open and the clinking of cutlery before his footsteps returned. His hair was messy, and he was stumbling over his feet, cursing internally at the random objects on the ground.
Despite being so disorientated after waking up, he still got up with no questions, fully determined on getting you what you wanted.
You never thought you'd start tearing up at the sight of your adorable husband, shirtless with a tub of ice cream in his hand, helping you sit up by putting pillows beind your back.
"You're so sweet Ken" you cooed, opening the tub to gawk at its delicious contents "When did you even make this?"
"I made sure to stock up on all your favorite craving snacks, just in case"
He didn't want to fall asleep until you were satisfied with your fill, and when you were he gladly pulled you back into his arms
His hand was on your cheek and he wiped of any residue left of the ice cream, tilting your face to look at him in the process.
"Don't be so hesitant to ask me next time"
"Even if its 2am in the morning?"
"Whether it is am or pm does not concern me, I will wake up at any time if it means making the mother of my child happy ok?"
Toji
His legs were tangled with yours, his big strong hands wrapped around your body almost like a shield.
It would be quite impossible to get up without waking him up, which was the last thing you wanted. His instincts were on point, meaning he'd catch you instantly if you so much as inhaled too hard.
You sighed, and immediately regretted it when you felt him shift.
"Somethin wrong?" He rasped, the sound of his voice reverberating against your ear.
"I just need to get up" you groaned, trying to pry his arm off of you. It was no use being sneaky now that he was awake.
You could feel him look at you with a raised brow, not moving an inch from your prying hands. You thought he'd be annoyed with you till his chest shook with laughter. "Sit your pregnant ass down"
You deadpanned which only seemed to made him more amused. Swiftly he hooked his arms under you and carfied you princess style, giving you no time at all to retaliate.
You could already hear the cheekiness in his voice when he looked down at your cute form. "Where to?"
Of course he wasn't going to let you go there by yourself, not after the last time you tripped.
"The kitchen please"
He carried you with such ease even though you had another human being literally growing in your tummy. The ride wasn't bumpy at all, and you could barely feel a thing as he maneuvered you through the house. In the dark may you add.
You felt the coolness of the kitchen against your skin and shivered slightly.
"You can put me down now Toji" you mumbled into his chest. Hesitantly he put you on your feet and watched intently as you waddled over the the freezer and pulled out a tub of ice cream.
His heart warmed at the sight of you disheveled hair and growing belly. It was moments like these were he admired you the most, where you just happily lived your life next to him.
You were looking around for a spoon, but stopped when you saw two of them shining in your husbands hands.
He was looking at you with that face again, the one of admiration were he studied you closely. Shyly, you looked away from him and he laughed before switching the lights off and pulling you into his arms again.
Soon you were seated cross legged in front of him while he fed you ice cream. Occasionally he'd kiss the spots where the dessert would get smudged on your face. He was giving you the prinsess treatment you deserved and he could've never asked for anything more.
"You're so pretty y'know that?" he questioned genuinely, before eating a spoonful of ice cream "Carrying our kid n'all"
This time he was the one with a smidge of ice cream on the corner of his mouth. Mischievioudly you pulled his face close to yours and swiftly licked it off, leaving him shook in his place.
"It's all thank to you for taking such good care of me" you smiled.
"Nuh uh" he wagged his finger, "It's what I'm supposed to do- yer the one who's doing all the growing"
Your heart melted from his statement and you pulled his fave down to kiss the ice cream that was smudged onto his cheek.
"You're too sweet Toji" you said with a smile, and you swear you could see the slight pink tinge of his cheeks.
Choso
His insomniac ass was getting not a single wink of sleep, especially after his most recent mission.
You thought you had successfully snuck off to the pantry to get yourself some snacks. Until you heard crunching behind you nd you flinched.
"You scared me" you whispered, clutching your hand to your chest. His eyes stared at your figure which was trying to reach a box at the top of he shelf. You huffed in annoyance when your fingers touched the box, moving it further away from where you wanted it.
You were about to get a stepping stool before the warm figure of your husband clouded behind you. The smell of the sweets he was eating lingering from his face. He reached up with ease, and brought the box of snacks down for you.
You plopped down onto the couch before switching the tv. You opened your arms to offer your husband cuddles, considering he was following toy around like a lost puppy.
You laid on your back ond he lay on your stomach, occasionally giving your grown belly a kiss and rubs of affection. You stayed like this for a while, just letting the time pass with Choso in your arms, his head resting on your stomach.
He felt a kick and his eyes widened. "Looks like someones a bit feisty huh?"
He then stares up at your sleeping figure, mouth agape and packet of chips in hand as you snored away.
"Just like your mama"
Geto
"Sweetheart" he sighed next to you, rubbing your back as you stood in the pantry. Frustrated to find that the food you were craving was no here to be found.
Geto was kind enough to help you in your search. He didn't get mad when you just stood there with tears staining your eyes and his tshirt.
You huffed into his chest, melting into his strong arms wrapped around your trembling figure. They were warm and welcoming, on top of that he also smelled good and you couldn't help but feel safe listening to the thump of his heart.
"C'mon" he cooed, before pulling away to wipe the tears on your face. "I'll go get it for you yeah?"
"But it's three in the morning"
Nothing was cuter than your tear stained face, pouting at him right now. The urge to squish your cheeks took over and his fingers were on either side of your face. He brought your face closer to his and planted a nice plump kiss on your puckered lips.
"If you're hungry, then that doesn't matter" he smiled, his hand traveling down to your very noticable bump. "As long as you're happy then it's fine, plus the little one's doing quite the number on you anyway- so you need all the food you can get"
You pulled him into a sudden embrace and he chuckled. "Thanks Sugu"
"Anytime baby"
His plan was to quickly get in the car to get your food, then come back. Though that changed slightly when he heard your light footsteps follow him into the garage.
It was far too late for you to be up and about right now, but he didn't have the guts to tell you to , because that would only add to your sadness.
He opened the door for you, held your hand to help you in and even reached over to click your seatbelt into place.
He closed your door and hoped in on his side, connecting the aux cable to his phone to play music that usually calms you down.
He observed your cute figure as you softly let your hand caress your belly. Staring at your bump with nothing but adoration.
"The food I'm craving is bit far from here" you shuffled "Is that ok?"
He chuckled softly and put the car in gear "I'll take you wherever you wanna go"
----- • ° • .•°•. -----
End
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swampjawn · 8 days
Text
Dungeon Meshi episode 21, being heavily dialogue-driven, was pretty straightforward animation-wise and let Ryoko Kui's stunning art speak for itself for the most part, but that doesn't mean that there aren't still some GENERALLY-INSIGNIFICANT-DETAILS-TO-SCRUTINIZE-AT-ARGUABLY-UNNECESSARY-LENGTH.
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There was a strong emphasis on hands in this episode, particularly the second half, starting with this cut of Laios resting his on the Minotaur's snout.
The animators have taken this simple little panel (on the right) from the manga (btw, people who know more about this than I do, is there a name for this type of panel, which in film would be called an "insert shot"?)
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and turned it into this highly detailed tracking shot that heightens the emotional impact of this moment for Laios. It feels very similar to the shot of Kabru bringing a piece of fish to his mouth that introduced him to the series!
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The theme comes up again when Laios does a little bit of blair-witching in the corner after being rejected by house-kitty-pilled Izutsumi,
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and once again a few seconds later with this added close-up of Marcille's hand when she tries to read the magical aura of the area.
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This one clearly makes heavy use of reference footage, to the point that it almost looks rotoscoped until you notice little details like this line that warps unrealistically at the heel of her palm.
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But with smooth, realistic motion like this, little details like that are much less important than the overall feeling of authentic shape and movement. This can be seen in a lot of Masaaki Yuasa's work, which often favors consistent motion and more frames over super polished individual drawings. Here's a thematically appropriate cut from Ping Pong for example:
(This one might actually be rotoscoped, I'm not sure)
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If you pause on any individual frame, the lines look wobbly and inconsistent, but it comes together as a whole to create something that feels authentic - real.
The heavy detail in the hand anatomy and the way the skin wrinkles around the knuckles in these cuts feels like a hard departure from Studio TRIGGER's signature heavy stylization, but these realistic cuts have popped up here and there since the start of this show, and I think they fit Dungeon Meshi really well! It can be jarring go straight from wacky bombastic cartoonsmanship to realism, but while it is a show about the hungriest hungriest himbo and his family of weirdos, it's also simultaneously a show about anatomy, ecology, and the horrors of the human mindbrain.
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This was expanded from an excerpt from this video where I break down the whole episode, so if you want to continue wallowing in the sludge with me, consider checking out the video!
Thanks for reading.
youtube
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likedovesinthewindd · 11 days
Note
Ex bf art donaldson seeing reader for the first time in a decade and forgetting the meaning of personal space. That man would not take his baby dear eyes and manly hands of you until you fall for his submissive aura.
I'm actually going crazy wtff I'm obsessed!!!
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He's the last person you had expected to see in a place like this, but you'd suppose you would've never imagined yourself in a place like this either. Loneliness drove people to strange places, it seemed.
He looked good. He still looked good. He's visually grown and matured, no longer the coy college boy but a refined man, yet he still looked boyish when he smiled or laughed. It warmed you to see he hadn't lost that light behind his eyes after all these years – life could be cruel, after all. You had half a mind to ask him how Tashi was doing, but the slight tan line on his finger being the only indicator of said marriage told you to leave the subject unscathed for now.
You didn't say anything when he chose to move in next to you in the booth instead of across, or when he insisted on buying you a drink, or when he looked at you as if you had been the answer to an unheard prayer. You didn't say anything because you, in return, had relished in the feeling of being seen, desired after so long.
He talked about how he's retired now, about how much happier he's been since he put the racket down and about his daughter, and you listened dutifully, watching his eyes lit up in that same boyish way when he talked about about Lily.
In return, he asked you about your life and what you've doing, all while his thumb rubbed over the top of the hand grasped in his. "We probably look like some happy couple to other people right now," you had commented, looking down at your hand clasped in his but making no move to pull it away. He had laughed, thumb still across your skin, and replied with a huffed, "yeah, we probably do." Not pulling his hand away either.
It was so strange to you; after all these years things still felt so natural with him. A part of you still wanted to be bitter about the way things had ended back then, but you couldn't find it in you to be. Not when it still felt so right.
"What?" you asked after a silence a little too long. He just smiled, and your chest clenched at the sight. "I'm really glad we found each other again," he replied softly, almost too soft for the noisy atmosphere of the bar. You wouldn't be able to hear anything anyway with the way your heart was beating in your ear at his words.
The two of you sat like this for hours, catching up and laughing at each other's awful jokes until you realized how late it had gotten. He offered you a ride home which you had accepted gratefully, and now as tge both of you stood infront of your door, you wished the night didn't have to end. You weren't even sure of you would see him again.
It was great seeing you again, Art. Thank you," you spoke as you opened your arms in an offered hug which he accepted gladly. Your arms wrapped around each other, your hands rubbing against his back and taking the moment to savour his cologne. He still managed to smell the same, and you nearly sobbed at the thought.
You pulled away from him with a sigh, finding a pensive expression on his face. "You okay?" you asked. The furrow in his brows relaxed slightly before he answered. "Yeah, it's just," he breathed before continuing, "I think that's the most intimate thing I've experienced in a while."
His confession hit you like a ton of bricks, and you hadn't realized you hadn't said anything until he spoke up again. "That makes me sound a loser."
You laughed at that, not because you agreed but because there wasn't a world where you could think Art was a loser. He could be a total washout, the worst tennis player on the ranking, and you'd still think highly of him.
"I don't think you're a loser, Art," you told him as your hands rested on the sides of his face, taking a moment to appreciate his pretty face. Still as pretty and sweet and funny as all those years ago.
The kiss felt like a reunion between two hearts. Like this very moment had been exactly what you had been looking for for the last ten plus years. It felt like home, and when you pulled away, you felt homesick.
He rested his forehead against yours, breathing in the moment before his head lifted to kiss your forehead. You couldn't help but smile. You were finally home.
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hannieehaee · 13 days
Text
18+ / mdi
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content: loser!seungcheol, afab reader, smut, continuation of my previous two loser!cheol fics, mentions of fwb relationship, confession, penetrative sex, etc.
part 1, part 2, part 3
wc: 2017
a/n: im creating the loser cinematic universe
masterlist
"so, are you guys dating now?", jeonghan asked one day as a few of the other frat members hung around the kitchen after a rowdy night partying.
"oh, uh, i'm not sure," was seungcheol's response.
it was the truth.
after only a few weeks of knowing each other, – and you jumping his bones every time you saw him – seungcheol still had no idea what label he was supposed to use when referring to you.
you were quite sweet to him any time the two of you got down to unseemly activities, but you were yet to mention anything about being exclusive, much less about officially being his girlfriend.
still, when jeonghan asked, seungcheol felt slightly embarrassed answering.
he wanted to proudly claim you as his; to have his fellow frat brothers look at him in envy when he brought you around, knowing you had picked him out of everyone else; that despite having the reputation of being a loser and a smartass, he had scored the prettiest and sweetest girl on campus.
sadly, he could only daydream about such a thing. he fid not have the balls to actually ask you out, something that jeonghan apparently caught sight of when seungcheol gave him his answer.
"dude, just ask her out," he practically scolded, "she clearly likes you. just make the first move and tell her you wanna be official."
"it's not that easy," he grumbled.
except it was.
what seungcheol didn't seem to realize was that you and jeonghan weren't just mere acquaintances. you were actually friends, which meant that he was pretty well informed on the current status of your relationship. while seungcheol remained unaware of what you sought out of the relationship, jeonghan had been made privy of that information by you directly.
your current hope was for seungcheol to ask you out himself. you knew he was shy and introverted, – and entirely inexperienced when it came to relationships – but you wanted him to want you so bad that his want for you bypassed all those barriers. being asked to be official by the pretty nerd from your friend's frat house was something you simply felt was a must. refusing to make the first move, you waited for him to grow frustrated enough to snap and beg you to be his.
meanwhile, seungcheol was disheartened at the thought of you being so nonchalant about it all, believing that if you were really interested, you wouldve already asked him to be yours.
"girls like to feel wanted. all you have to do is ask her out to a movie or something. easy," shrugged jeonghan.
"easy for you to say. i've never done it before," complained seungcheol, deflated.
"when's the next time you're seeing each other?"
"she asked to come over tonight, why?"
"great," smirked jeonghan, "i have a plan."
~
even as socially inept and inexperienced as seungcheol was, he knew this was the cheesiest thing he could've possibly done.
however, jeonghan had been right about setting him up with you in the first place, even having orchestrated the perfect plan to do so in such a seamless way that it landed seungcheol the prettiest fuck buddy, so he decided to blindly trust jeonghan's expertise yet again.
and now he stood in his room, staring down at the bed covered in red rose petals as what jeonghan described to be 'baby-making music' played. the lights were dimmed and the entire aura was nothing short of suggestive.
after having confirmed for you to come over, – all while jeonghan dictated the text seungcheol was meant to send you – he prepared his room for 'a night of romance,' as jeonghan had called it. the plan was to welcome you in, somehow work his way into a confession, and then 'make love' to you (jeonghan's words, not seungcheol's). as much as cheol wanted to actually make love to you and make you officially his, his anxiety was through the roof. he had never had a girlfriend before. you were his first everything, and he was terrified of scaring you away by being too forward. maybe all you wanted was something casual – which would break his heart, but he'd respect it.
it was, however, too late to back down, as you were supposed to arrive within minutes. in fact, he could already hear the door being opened, accompanied by muffled speech, coming from the entrance of the frat.
upon hearing a quiet knock on his door, he went to open it, offering you a sheepish smile as you walked in and took in the sight.
you giggled in disbelief, "cheol, what's all this?"
"uh, i, uhm, i wanted to make tonight a little extra special, that's all."
— 'tell her you coward!', he could hear jeonghan's voice playing in the back of his head.
"yeah? that's all?", you asked, nearing him with a purpose.
"well, no, i- i actually wanted to ask you something."
"mhm?," you smiled, placing your hands on his shoulders.
he was visibly sweating by now, gulping after every sentence and his eyes fleeting from your own down to his shoes.
"just, uh, i wanted to, f-fuck- it's kinda difficult when you- when you do that," he stammered when your hands made their way to the back of his neck, playing softly with the hair there, drawing goosebumps in the process.
"it's okay, cheollie, just tell me. i can get a lot more distracting," you practically warned, not halting your soft touches and now invading all his personal space.
without even thinking of it, his hands had wrapped around your waist, a place that was now natural for him to hold, albeit always in a shy manner.
"y-yeah, okay, uh, i just- just wanted to know if you ... if you'd like to- to, uh, maybe go out sometime," he gulped and cringed at how not-smoothly it had gone over. he hadn't even asked you out how he meant to, how he had rehearsed with han.
"go out? but, cheollie, we already hang out so much. what do you mean by 'go out'?", you tilted your head in fake confusion, clearly acting obtuse on purpose to further mess with an already nervous seungcheol.
nevertheless, cheol was not planning on backing down. not even when you leaned in and began pressing hot kisses to the skin of his neck. not even when your tongue came out to lick at the splotches you'd begun leaving behind. and specially not when your teeth went up to softly nibble at his earlobe.
"b-be my girlfriend, fuck, please? i ...", he whined all at once, hands tightening into your hips.
seungcheol could not be blamed for being such a weak man, falling to your seduction so easily. you were always in control whenever it came to the bedroom. this was something seungcheol absolutely adored. maybe it made him feel weak and a little bit pathetic at times, but it sure made his dick insanely hard, just like at this same moment.
"yes, cheollie," you sighed with a smile as your lips remained attached to his skin, "i'll be your girlfriend, angel."
"y-you will?", he managed to let out a gasp when your hands joined in on the fun, reaching under his shirt and feeling up his chest and abdomen.
"of course, baby. like you so much ... just wanted you to ask me out first," you revealed between kisses on his neck, reaching to his cheek and then finally landing on his lips.
"mmm," he hummed against your lips, hands tightening around your waist as he instinctively pulled you into himself, "god, wanted to ask you out since the day we met."
"i know, cheollie," you giggled, "you're just a little shy, huh?"
"you just make me so nervous," he groaned, letting himself fall limp to your touches, molding to your body and letting you guide him to bed with zero complaints.
"me? but i like you so much," you stress the words as you undress him, with him numbly following along to all your wordless commands.
"like you more ..." he breathed out once he was completely undressed and your hands reached down to toy with his cock through his boxers, "l-like you so much, you have no idea ..."
"can't believe such a pretty boy likes me so much," you went back to his lips, pulling his head back by his hair in order to force his mouth open for your tongue to make an entrance. you breathed in his gasps, making love to his tongue with your own.
"y-you're pretty. so pretty, you- fuck, can't believe you even looked my way," he kept mirroring your compliments, feeling an innate need to let you know how much more into you he was than you could ever understand.
"yeah? let me show you how much i like you, then?" you smiled against his lips, whining at how he seemed unable to disconnect your lips, chasing after your own with a huff.
nodding feverishly, he helped you out of your clothes, groaning any time your hand would go back down to make contact with his cock, eventually pulling it out of his boxers.
"m gonna fuck you now, okay, baby? gonna fuck you just how you like," you promised once undressed, sitting on his lap as his breath accelerated.
he felt a cold sweat rush through his body at the thought of you sitting on him. he'd gotten the privilege of fucking you many times in the pas, but he was always unprepared for the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him. the sight of your nude body in front of him was already enough to make him lose the ability to think coherently.
"f-fuck, oh, fuck, thank you," he groaned when you finally sat down on him, eyes rolling back and fingers digging into your hips.
"cheollie ... fuck, always feel so good for me," you breathed, arching your back and wrapping your arms around his shoulders for support, "such a good boy ..."
the praise made his hips cant upwards, beginning to fuck into you with a complete lack of rhythm, yet still making you let out those high-pitched moans that always made him lose his mind.
"it's so fucking tight ... fuck, love it so much. l-like you so fucking much. so perfect for me ..."
"can't believe you're mine ... please tell me you're mine. please ..."
"need you every day. can't live without your cunt. fuck, you ruined me ..."
uncharacteristically, his words were endless, wanting to let you know how much he liked you and how badly he needed to have you day after day. he needed to make you feel as wanted as you always did him. after every single one of his confessions, you'd respond with a reciprocation, making him even more desperate for you.
"'m gonna cum for you, cheollie," you eventually whined, "cum with me , angel. please? show me how m-much you like me?"
how could he deny you when you played that card? when all he wanted was to give you anything your heart desired? he had no ability to resist you, always following your every request without question.
there was no need for him to hold back his orgasm, as he could practically cum on command if you so much as looked at him a certain way. he just liked you so fucking much, having no control of himself any time you touched him.
his hips accelerated when your orgasm hit you, pistoning into you at punishing speed due to the way your cunt wrapped around him all of the sudden. despite already being used to your cunt, he could not resist its warm embrace any time your orgasm would rob you of your senses. predictably, his own orgasm followed yours almost immediately.
"t-thank you. fuck, thank you. like you so much, fuck. baby, l-like you so fucking much," there was a mantra of thank you's and confessions through the entirety of his orgasm, sounding entirely too pathetic but not caring for it as he expressed his truth for you.
"such a good boy, cheollie," you whispered into his ear once both your orgasms subsided. your hands played softly with his hair, pressing him against your skin in a comforting manner.
seungcheol could die happily in this moment. how could things be better than now? he had the prettiest girl holding him in her arms after the best orgasm of his life, having found out that his feelings were mutual. no more words were needed as the two of you softly loved on one another, eventually laying in bed and napping together, only to wake back up again and express the same sentiments over and over again.
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starryhutcherson · 18 days
Text
━━ A NEW FAMILIAR
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author's note: crawled out of my hole for this one guys. sorry for being so ghost mode im working on putting out more stuff, apologies if this isn't of the highest quality as i'm running on sugar free redbull and three hours of sleep ! love my life hahahahaAHHHH
'୧ ‧₊ pairing: best friend!mike schmidt x reader warnings: 18+ sexual content! oral sex (f!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, swearing word count: 4600+ ⋆ ✩‧₊
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Mike’s expression always glooms when you bring up the next date you’ve arranged. He knows how this story plays out; he knows the truth behind the men you’ve matched with on whatever sketchy website you’ve wasted your time on. They’ve molded themselves into the embodiment of perfection, through falsified photos and fabrications buried in their bios. His patience crumbles like fireplace ash as you skip around his living room and drone on about whatever dickhead you’ve set your poor, precious heart on.
He knows, always, the the outcome is running makeup and salty cheeks, sobbing on the floor of his living room in a creasing satin dress and his welcoming arms, a bitter exclamation of “you were right Mike” leaving your lips in the knowing silence and him gritting his jaw and pretending that it doesn’t bother him the the only habits you ever find yourself falling back into are the bad ones. 
It’s no different today. 
Mark or Matt or Mitch – you really were killing him, because it should be Mike. It should be him. Him that you’re getting ready for, him that you’re daydreaming about. And it’s an odd feeling, like a movie where your favorite character dies and then movie finishes and you have to accept that they aren’t coming back, no matter how long you sit glued to the reclinable chair, popcorn crunched beneath your sneakers and the credit-scene reflected in your shrinking pupils. 
Mike’s not the type to be happier with the hope – he’d let the truth swallow him up, sink into his creaking bones, he’d live with the loss. But he still has hope for you. He has hope that your eyes will open and you’ll seep into his brain and his breath and his bed. He hopes you’ll start seeing him instead of just looking. Maybe it's wishful thinking. Ignorant optimism.
It feels like it. 
It feels like it, right now, when he’s leaning against the doorframe of his bathroom and watching you get ready, your animated chatter reverberating around the small space between coats of mascara. He offered to give you a ride before you’d even asked, and he’ll tolerate the sting of watching you get out of the car looking all pretty for someone who isn’t him, just to make sure you get there safely. It’s the type of sacrifice he’ll make for you. 
“I can’t even feel my face, I’ve been smiling so hard all day!” You squeal, powdering your cheeks with more purposeless product – he thinks it’s all pointless. You’re radiant, even in the harsh lighting of his bathroom. 
He offers a low grunt. What is he supposed to say? He’s not happy. And he’s not gonna pretend he is. 
You either don’t notice or choose to ignore, continuing to doll yourself up to whatever standards you have for yourself. “I mean, he says he’s been skiing since he was 6. He’s practically an olympian.” 
Mike scoffs. 
“What?”
“Nothing,” he grumbles, shaking his head. “Can you hurry up?”
“Alright, grumpy. Calm down. I gotta do my lips and then I’m ready. Plus, nobody told you that you gotta stand here.” 
A fleeting flush of fuchsia permeates his cheeks, but he looks down at his worn shoes to hide it. It’s true. He didn’t have to stand here. But if an angel was populating your bathroom you’d want to take a peek, would you not? That’s how he thinks you look. Angelic. Glowing from your soul, a content smile knitted on your lips. You might as well have a halo and wings – that heaven-sent aura is reinforced when you douse yourself in lingering washes of that sweet perfume that’s branded itself to you. He’d recognise that floral aroma anywhere, the way a shark detects a drop of blood amongst saline scattered seas. 
“Okay, I’m ready. How do I look?”
Cruelest question of them all. “You look… fine. Good.”
A knot forms in your brow. “All this effort for that terrible answer?” Playful, but with a truthful undertone. Why do you value his opinion so much? He doesn’t want to assume anything. 
“Well I’m not the person you’re dressing up for.” I wish I was. He doesn’t say the other words, but he thinks them so hard he’s half convinced if you were listening in the right spot, or looking into his eyes for long enough that you’d hear it anyway. 
“Okay, okay, whatever. Let’s just get going, don’t wanna keep Mack waiting.” 
Two letters. That’s all it would take. That’s all he’d have to swap to make it him.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
✩‧₊˚
Even if you aren’t aware, even if he did offer, he drives begrudgingly. He focuses as much as he can, on the road ahead and not your glistening figure beside him in the passenger seat, the very definition of temptation. 
The mall parking lot is barren, a few gleaming cars scattered amongst the otherwise desolate area. He pulls into a space, sets the car in park, rakes in a greedy sigh of air. 
“If anything happens, call me.” 
You sneer teasingly. “Don’t be so pessimistic. It’s gonna be great, he could be my future husband, y’know.”
Yep. Mack, the 35 year old you've met online, who’s only notable talent seems to be skiing and his greatest life achievement to date is shooting a deer, whose head is mounted to the wall in his bedroom, typically visible in the background of his many instagram posts which involved his shirtless figure straining to flex his overly pronounced bulk. A match made in heaven. He wants to scream. 
And how can you even tell him to not be pessimistic? How can you look him in the eyes and act like this moment hasn’t happened time after time, the point of no return before an evening spent crying in his arms as he reassures you that your failed dates are never your fault, even though by now it seems like you must be seeking out the same genre of shitty man if you’re this good at getting your heart broken. He’s sick of picking up the fragile little pieces of his bathroom floor, cutting himself on the shards of a heart that’ll never be his. You deserve more than these half-baked, single night romances. He could show you that. 
“Yeah, sure,” he grits. “Future husband. Just call me, seriously.”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll call you.” 
And with that, you’re off, disappearing into the gaping mouth of the mall’s entrance, and he watches with an alkaline feeling growing in his stomach. Your hair is caught up in the wind like clothing on a washline and he thinks his hope is all drained out. 
✩‧₊˚
Mike spends a good two hours back at his house. His movements feel vacuous, staring ahead at the screen, barely processing the raging garbage that masquerades as reality TV. The rain has picked up outside, licking at the window panes with a growing intensity. 
He’s not happy about the jean skirt and tiny little tank top you’d clad yourself in prior to leaving, you’re probably frigid by now in the cold. You did however reassure him that Mack was gonna drive you home, or even worse, take you back to his place, so his stupid fucking elk head trophie could watch with it’s empty eyes while the pair of you fuck on the bed that his mom still has to make for him because he never can quite manage those fitted sheets, can he? Fucking manchild. 
Shit. Mike’s feeling so so bitter. Maybe it’s because he’s finally realized that this is the dreaded pattern he’s going to have to endure with you until death. Or until he braves up and actually tells you that he’s been in love with you since the fifth day of second grade, when you mouthily confronted Jerry Murdoch and told him to give Mike his crayons back.  
With a weak sigh, he turns the TV off with a click of the remote still encaptured in the loose hold of his fist, and decides to see if he can melt into any form of sleep – but the knock on his door prevents him from doing so. 
He arises lethargically, not having much on his mind but the denial of his slumber as he shuffles over and turns the handle, but then, it’s you. 
Fluttery lashes melted to black smudges beneath your eyes, a mixture of rainwater and tears, completely drenched and dripping all over his doormat, your body is trembling and you’re wracked with tiny little cries and he’s feeling so many emotions he believes he might implode. 
He pulls you inside and into his arms, stroking your back in gentle, soothing motions, and it kills him that this has become routine. He’s angry. He’s sick of this. 
“What happened this time?” He grunts softly. 
“He didn’t even show up. He couldn’t even send a message as to why, Mike,” you sniffle into his warm chest, drunk off the even echo of his heartbeat. 
A moment’s silence rots like aged fruit. He draws a breath in, then out, then in again. 
“Why didn’t you call me?”
You crane your face upwards to meet him, instantly bathed in a nervous shiver when you see how serious he looks. 
“My phone was dead.” Is all you can manage to mumble. 
“What?” He’s pissed. “Why didn’t you charge it? You could have charged it there, they have outlets at the mall. Or you could’ve used someone else’s, so you didn’t have to walk home in the rain, because you’re drenched.” 
“I don’t–”
“Y’know how dangerous it is to walk around alone in this shitty neighborhood? Half the street lights don’t even work, and I don’t even know any of my neighbors, or what kinda people walk around here at night.” He grumbles. “I shouldn’t have to tell you all this, I’m sick of explaining all this to you.”
You roll your eyes irritably, releasing yourself from his arms and crossing your own across your dripping wet torso. “How was I supposed to know he was gonna stand me up? You’re telling me I should just expect it?”
He blinks like a deer in headlights, silence settles into his flesh.
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
You scoff. “It’s what you implied.” 
“It’s not what I—” He grumbles weakly under his breath, cutting himself off, deciding reasoning with you is somewhat of a useless attempt. “Why can’t you just listen to me?”
“What, charge my phone next time? Bring a raincoat? Yeah, great help, seriously, don’t know where I’d be without you,” your sarcasm hits like gunshot wounds to the teeth. 
“Or maybe you should try to meet actual people, instead of fake ones from some stupid website.” 
After a cold shiver bites up your spine, your expression deepens with defense. What is his fucking problem? “At least I try to get out of the house! At least I don’t spend every hour of every day moping around and feeling sorry for myself!” 
The pair of you fight, sure, every good relationship, friend or romance or family or whatever should, but nothing like this. This is stone-set, it’s been coming for a while, the wild gesticulations and the pacing and the raised voices. It shakes the bones of the weakened house. 
“Don’t,” Mike says with a furious edge, fists tightening and untightening like he’s about to take a swing at the wall, like this is going to end with bleeding knuckles nipped with shards of worn plaster. “Don’t throw that in my face, I do everything I can, for you and Abby. It’s not like I have a choice.”
“So what, you’re so fucking miserable in your own life that you have to try and control mine?”
“Control? You’re like my child! You don’t even know how to take care of yourself half the time, so yes, I try to help you not to make such shitty decisions!” 
You scowl. “You’re not obligated to do anything for me, y’know Mike. Why do you keep me around if I’m that much of a chore for you!”
He snaps, the tension in his fists bleeding up into his throat, his mouth, the words clot behind his gums and suddenly they tumble out in a fury-fueled shout. “Because you’ve got no one else!” 
You deflate, wilting like a flame without oxygen, and Mike deems the silence to be more cruel than anything else you’ve said to him tonight. He’s feeling everything and nothing all at once, the quiet crumbles around him like a burning building and he fears he’ll become rubble beneath the debris. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just… god, just–” His eyes flick to you, and then retreat back down to the faded living room carpet. He can’t swallow his guilt this time. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”
“It’s fine,” you say coldly, knuckling away an angry tear. The salt water is the trick of nostalgia, you’ve cried like this so many times. Your breakage of those promises to yourself. It’ll be different. And it never is. 
“No. It’s not – I’m a dick, I just… I hate watching other people ruin your life. You deserve better.”
Better. What is better? Some twisted fantasy that some people are indulged with and others are left longing for. That you’re left longing for. You know he’s tired of the same bullshit that you force yourself through, convincing yourself of change, painting yourself up to be fit for presentation, and hoping that whoever you’ve leeched onto likes what they see, so you don’t have to feel so alone anymore. You’re oblivious, painfully so. Because Mike could plaster together the cracks in your splintering psyche, if you’d just let him in. 
“Whatever, Mike. It’s true anyway.”
There’s a hole in his heart in the shape of your name. He begs you. Fill it. A part of him shatters at the defeat in your words — he’s crumbled you to the bone, to the marrow. He’ll build you back up. You deserve it. 
“No it isn't. No it isn’t. You have me. You’ll always have me.” 
A silence pervades; the look in his eyes is one of pleading, that you’ll stop and see what he’s offering you, that you’ll stop chasing your own tail, that you’ll stop the cycle. 
“Mike…”
“And Abby.”
You indulge him. 
“You have me. And you have Abby. And I know that’s… not much, but she loves you. So much. And I’m sorry, ‘cause I know I don’t say it enough, I don’t…. I don’t say how much you mean to me, but I just—”
“Mike.” 
He wallows in the waters of your rain kissed eyes, the way your pupils pulse and the words are falling before he can swallow them back down. 
“I love you.”
He gives you that stare. That stare that’s the color of black coffee, the look that you can feel, unearthing the graveyard of wilting feelings you’ve tried to bury, the heart that beats for him him him, lodged between the ivory bars of your ribcage. He maps you out with his eyes, he looks at you the way the sun hungers for daybreak. 
He’s waiting. He’d wait forever. 
“And… and seeing you with these… shitty people who don’t even care about you, it just…” He sighs exasperatedly, dragging a sweaty palm down his face. 
His sentences can’t seem to finish themselves. This is harder than it looks in the movies. Harder than when he’s practiced in the mirror, when Abby’s walked in and giggled at him and told him to just fess up. 
“You love me? Like…”
He looks up at you like a kicked puppy. “Yeah. I do.”
You’re beyond bewildered. He loves you. He loves you. 
“What– but… you—”
“You don’t have to… say anything. I just, I can’t… I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t do it.”
You reach for his hand. It’s a little clammy, a little trembly, but it’s a perfect fit. Just like you. 
“I love you too, Mike.”
What?
“You… do?”
He’s skeptical, but he’s also swooning. A stone man is slowly cracking. 
“I just didn’t… didn’t think I could have you. I mean, you’re so… you’re everything, y’know? You’re a good brother, and you work so hard, and you’re… I’m just… I don’t think I deserve you,” you whisper, confessing. With a newfound stroke of confidence, he approaches, one hand snaking around to the small of your back, another on your cheek. He’s gentle. In his eyes, you’re porcelain. Precious. Fragile. At least, at this moment. But you love him too and that’s all he needs. It’s all he’s ever needed. 
“You deserve everything.” He says it so quietly it’s barely audible. And then, nothing is audible because he’s carefully pulling your lips to his, linking you in every way, his hands tangle into your damp hair and he’s kissing you. 
His lips chase yours in messy, uncalculated movements. He’s starting small. It’s been a while. And he’s gonna take his time with you. He’s gonna show you what you deserve. Soft sounds squeak past his lips as they flutter against yours, and you’re closer and closer and closer still, impossibly so. 
Within moments he’s whisking you off to his bedroom, his hand tangled with yours, an interlace tight enough to cause ropeburn. His skin chafes with yours, and then he’s kissing you again atop his navy comforter. 
He’s gentle, respectful, but you understand what he’s trying to tell you, what he’s been trying to tell you. He speaks through silken drags of his tongue, through the hand that holds your cheek steady— he feels as though he’s gripping the very cusp of a constellation. You taste like stardust. You glow like the waning moon. 
He breathes heavily in the expanse of his throat, his pants have become tight and wet and filthy; he’s been subconsciously grinding down into your lap. You’re a little shaky and your pupils have darkened with lust and he is going to show you what you mean to him. What you’ve been missing. 
His hand falls lower, into the slope of torso that dips into your hips. His eyes travel back and forth, searching, hunting for the desire that he feels mirrored back at him. Do you want this, the way he does? Do you? His hardened stare doesn’t speak loud enough. He elaborates.
“Can I… uh… do you wanna…?”
Do you want to? You need to. 
“Shit, okay,” he croaks out, jaw tense and tight as he traces you beneath calloused fingers. You didn’t realize you said that out loud. 
He’s endearingly awkward – you know from languid late-night conversations that he hasn’t done this a lot. Maybe even at all. But he’s sweet, so sweet, like lapping up sugar and feeling it dissolve on your tongue, feeling him dissolve on your tongue, giving you comfort and cavities. 
“Can I take this off?” He asks nervously, fiddling with the hem of your camisole. A short nod, and he’s sliding it over your sweat-pricked figure, admiring your contours in the whisper of evening moonlight that bleeds through holes in his moth-eaten curtains. You’re perfect, and he knew you would be. 
He caresses your skin gently, drunk on the mellow feeling of your bare stomach beneath his fingertips. Your bra is black, a little lace peering along the straps, your breasts spilling into the fabric. He reaches around your back, fumbling at the clasp. When the garment drops, his hands are replacing it before you can even blink. 
“Beautiful,” he manages to get out, thumbing over your nipples. 
“Mngh, Mike—”
“Sh. Just let me… just let me. Let me make you feel good. Please?” He grunts out under his breathless voice, and how could you deny such a request?
The moment you agree, he’s grabbing you by the thighs and tugging you towards him slightly, so your back is nearly flat against his mattress and he’s settling himself in the gap that you create for him. 
Your skirt comes off first. Your panties are undeniably soused, his fingers trace the big wet spot that’s dripping all for him, teasing you through torturously thin cotton. 
“Mike,” you mewl gently, fingers settling in his nest of chocolate curls that are damp with sweat. A firm tweak and he’s groaning, his voice melting away into nothing like hot tar. 
“You’re so wet,” he mumbles to himself, like he’s never seen anything like it. Probably not in a while. His finger hooks beneath the waistband, pulls it out gently, and lets it go. It slaps against your hip bone and another fresh sound seeps from your lips.  
“Mike, shit, please just do something—”
“Okay,” he whispers, more to himself than you, carefully sliding your panties from your waist, down past your ankles, and he’s tossing them to join the pile of clothes that has begun to collect on his bedroom floor. 
You’re here, before him. The girl he waited for. Your soft flesh is glistening, clenching painfully around nothing, and he’s salivating at the sight of you. He pries your legs out further with his warm hands, leaving them to linger on your bare flesh for a few drawn out moments, before he claims what’s rightfully his. 
He presses a trialing kiss to your clit, and your back curves delicately, fingers tightening their grasp in his hair. He moans into you at this action, and you, in turn, moan as well. Confidence creates itself in him with each little whimper that he gets you to release, and he’s answering back, hearing your cries, your calls of his name with his own unabashed exclamations of pleasure. This is just as good for him, as it is for you. 
“Mike,” you whine gently, and he’s mumbling weak praise right into your cunt. 
“Fuck, you’re so pretty. Wanted this for so long.”
It’s barely audible between his languid sucks; he’s lapping at your drooling entrance, fingers subtly creeping closer, up and along your thighs and settling right above your throbbing clit. He presses his thumb against it, tracing sinful circles against your bud— once, twice, and then you’re far too close to the edge. 
“Oh, Mike I’m gonna come,” you choke out between gasps. 
“Do it. Please.”
He’s begging you. 
And you oblige. With a trembling sob, your thighs tense around his head, keeping him locked in place, capturing him and making sure he finishes the job, and oh does he plan to. When you soar, he’s still holding you in place, soothing the electric sparks pulsating throughout your body. 
He savors your sounds, and when they stop coming, he presses a lingering peck on your inner thigh, stubble scraping at the sensitive dermis. He then raises his face to your level, the light coruscating off the filthy souvenir etched all over his face, your glittering arousal that he wears so proudly. 
He steals a proper kiss from you, rubbing your side as a gentle comfort. He’s completely hard now, tenting his sweats, leaking against the fabric. You gingerly reach out, tracing what you assume to be the head of his cock, and he sags, boneless, against your touch. 
“Fuck, baby I—”
“Baby?” You chuckle softly, still hazed from the candy-coated afterglow of your orgasm. The first of many, he hopes. 
“Mngh— g… got a problem?” He grumbles softly, almost quivering as you begin to palm him with purpose.
“It’s out of character,” you tell him gently. 
“Shit, can I be inside you?” He asks you, voice ripped raw. 
And once again, Mike Schmidt leaves you breathless. 
“Yeah. I need it. I need you.”
He groans, slipping off his pants and boxers without so much as another word from your swollen lips. He’s hard, angrily so, his cock pulses violently and a little whimper escapes through the crack in his bitten lips when it slaps against his stomach. 
He’s stroking himself slowly, base to tip and then back again, collecting the pearls of precum that dribble from his slit. He’s never been so ready for something. For you. It’s all for you. 
He’s holding you, thumbing your hip bones and gently nudging himself into your hole, cooing at every cry that crawls from the crevices of your throat. When he bottoms out, finally, it’s safe to say that he gets a little dumb. “Oh, shit, I’m not— not gonna last long, you’re so tight, shit…” He’s rambling a little. It’s cute. 
A few wandering kisses land on you the way dandelion spores decorate a skyline – your cheek and your chin and your jaw, as he waits for you to let him move. You’re squeezing him for all he’s got and he’s three seconds away from spilling before he’s even so much as thrusted. You do this to him. 
All those days, staring into your eyes and wondering if you’d ever see him the way you do, all those nights, stroking your hair and softening your saddened sobs after failed date after failed date. They’re all worth it. 
You’re clamping down on him, warm and wet and wavering, and you’re exhaling softly through your nose and telling him to move, begging him to move, to make you feel good, and it’s what he does. 
He pumps into you with passion, magnetized to your every movement. He’s satisfying a decade worth of insatiable craving, he’s chasing your hips with his. You end where he begins. 
The headboard creaks and slams against thin plastered walls, one hand grips onto it with alabaster knuckles and the other one holds your hips for better leverage. He doesn’t need to say it, but each knocked kiss of his pelvis to yours is a silent I love you I love you I love you. 
“Oh my god Mike,” you sob, and he slides himself deeper, hitting everywhere he wants to reach. Everywhere to make you quiver beneath him.
“You d—don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he moans lowly. “How many times I’ve imagined you like— like this.”
He’s blabbering, every stray thought that passes through his head is already blossoming on his tongue and out into the air before he can even think twice. Admittedly, you’re too blissed out in your own mind to really respond, but it’s arousing all the same. 
“You’re so… so beautiful,” he’s flushed and he’s faltering, and you know he’s close before he even announces it. 
“Shit, baby, I can’t— can’t last much longer,” he stammers, his bruising pace beginning to shake. 
“Do it in me, Mike, please, please,” shit, are you trying to kill him? Your word is the only law he knows, and he’s wrapping his arms around your torso and diving his head in the elegant slope of your collarbone, biting down into the skin and spasming somewhere deep in your welcoming walls. 
He tries to keep himself quiet, but it’s really a futile effort. His hips jut sporadically as he empties himself inside you, and the sudden flood of subtle heat is all it takes for you to topple over as well. 
Bliss teeters back into reality after a seemingly ceaseless moment. He peels his head from its previous position to admire you, to stroke a stray lock of hair from your forehead and nervously greet it with a kiss.
He doesn’t let go of you. Not now, not ever, he thinks to himself. His arms snake around you tighter, and somehow it’s even more intimate after the fact. His bare chest collides with your back, his nose rests comfortably against the crown of your head. The pair of you follow each other into a dreamless sleep, safe in the sanctuary of a warm bed and an even warmer embrace. 
He’s found his new familiar. 
masterlist
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