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#love your freckles and beauty spots
sincericida · 10 months
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ANDREW GARFIELD at the Zegna Spring/Summer 2024 Fashion Show during the Milan Fashion Week menswear.
(via GQ Spain)
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churipu · 2 months
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BEAUTIFUL FEATURES 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. cursing on gojo :)
note. while i'm working on chapter 5 of my killswitch lullaby series, i'm gonna upload something because i just got home from a get together with my big family, and part 5 of killswitch lullaby is still halfway done :(
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
"you have freckles."
averting your eyes to gojo through the mirror in the bathroom, you nodded, "mhm, they've always been there," it's not like you've made them noticeable — so the reaction was expected, you never really liked them.
"why did i just notice them?" he asks, leaning his shoulder onto the doorway, "i mean — they look really pretty y/n."
pretty didn't sit well with you, especially not when you grow up hating that certain feature. chuckling out softly, you raised a brow, "they're not pretty, they're weird, 'toru."
the male blinks, "who said that?"
"everyone else but you—" he scoffs, throwing his face to the side with a lop-sided smirk, "what? why are you laughing?"
gojo shakes his head in denial, "fuck what they think — i think they're pretty, and they suit you. why would you hide it?" the blue eyed male watches your every move as your fingers pressed on the skin colored cushion onto your skin, sealing away the beautiful dots gracing across your cheeks.
"because i feel better without them." you nonchalantly answered, patting the cushion a few times to flatten the foundation. your freckles immediately drowned under it, disappearing from sight.
gojo was silent, his face was indescribable — and you don't know what he had in mind next. frankly, he's a little angry. not at you, anyone but you. the male then stepped towards you, throwing an arm around your waist, "can i ruin your make up just the slightest bit . . ?"
"yes, but 'm not going to talk to you for the rest of the day . . . or two."
the blue eyed male chuckled, but he wasted no time wrapping his slender fingers around your wrist, peppering gentle kisses across your cheeks, right over the semi-wet foundation — leaving traces of his lips on your face. gojo didn't even care about the sticky substance graved on his lips.
pulling back, he seemed satisfied at his work of art. your make up ruined almost completely as your foundation was smeared away, the smooth layer now barely even there at all, and all was left was trails of his kisses over your sun kissed freckles.
"you're so beautiful, i'd kiss you right now — but i wouldn't want to get foundation in your mouth," he whispers, instead of leaning into your lips, he pressed his foundation laced lips along your forehead, engraving his lips on your skin.
"you're so cheesy—"
"way to ruin the moment, y/n. really great! you're lucky i love you," he grazed his thumb over his art, wiping away your foundation, "i love you and everything about you."
smiling lightly, you nod, "i love you too."
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
nanami traced his finger on your skin behind your ear, the tip of his finger grazing over the same spot again and again. his eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit, "what happened here?"
you glanced at him, "hm? what happened where?" the male didn't answer, but his finger traced your skin — specifically, where your birth mark laid. and he blinked slowly, "oh, i forgot about that. nothing happened there, 'ts my birth mark."
the male nods his head. his eyes never leaving the darker spot behind your ear, "i never knew you had one . . ." he mumbles out, a little upset he's never noticed such a beautiful feature on you through out the time he has been with you.
"i didn't want you to," you replied back.
nanami retracted his hand back, "are there any reasons why?"
craning your neck to face him, your e/c eyes averted around the room. anywhere but right at his eyes, "um . . . i don't think that my birth mark is an important feature, you know where i'm coming from?"
nanami in fact didn't, "unfortunately, not."
"i just don't think it's nice to look at," you tell him the truth, chuckling, "but i actually forgot that i had that behind my ear for a bit."
once again, his fingers flew to trace your birth mark, admiring it silently. strands of your hair gets tangled in between his fingers at the action, but the male wasn't pulling on it, "it's beautiful. you're beautiful."
"think so?" you asked.
nanami didn't answer you, but his hand cupped your face gently, pulling you close and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. it was a short kiss, but it was full of admiration and love, "i do. i mean it," he states out, gazing into your eyes.
"i love you, ken. you know that, right?"
"i love you more, y/n. you know that, right?"
𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
you'd think that your boyfriend wouldn't notice the way you strain back your smile from engulfing your face? frankly, thinking megumi wouldn't notice was something stupid — megumi notices everything, especially things about you. his partner.
"why do you do that?" he questions, leaning back onto the wall.
raising a brow at him in confusion, you replied back, "do what?"
"straining back your smile — why don't you just . . . smile?" his voice was quiet, but there was something behind it. not anger, not disappointment; megumi was just confused, was it something that he should be concerned about?
even if it wasn't, he is already concerned.
his question left your mind a little hazed, wondering if you should tell him the truth or just lie your way out of this. but (thankfully), you ended up with the first choice, "i didn't want to deepen my smile lines, they look weird."
now it was megumi's mind swirling with different questions, "smile lines? why— what? what?" he mutters under his breath — mind a little disintegrated.
"it leaves a mark behind, i don't like it—"
"you look fine." he cuts you off, "you have a nice smile, don't hold it back."
coming from someone like megumi, you thought it might have been the greatest compliment you have ever gotten the whole entire year. the first genuine smile popped out on your face after a bit, the apple of your cheeks rounding as you beam out at the male in delight, "really? you mean that?"
megumi sighs, nodding, "really."
"that means a lot to me, gumi. thank you," the male blinked — he wasn't sure what had gotten you so happy, surely it wasn't his compliment, is it?
it is, "yeah."
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starrystevie · 17 days
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“i must have been real sweet on you,” eddie murmurs as he runs his fingers over his husband’s cheek, sleepy and sated, warm in their bed. 
steve chuckles, twisting his head to catch the tips of eddie’s fingers with a kiss. “why are you talking past tense? you’re not sweet on me now?”
the room is peacefully still. years of baby monitors are long gone only to inevitably give way to their daughter’s teenage years of slamming doors and too loud stereo speakers. but in this moment, with the pale moonlight streaming in through the windows and crickets chirping in the distance, the room is peaceful, thick with love. 
“quit your pouting, ‘course i’m sweet on you now.” eddie wipes away steve’s fake frown with a kiss, turning it into a sticky sweet grin. “it’s just something my mom used to tell me. that freckles are all the places your soulmate in a past life kissed you.”
eddie pushes steve back so he’s laying flat on the mattress and dips his head to press featherlight kisses on the side of his neck. across his shoulders. over his cheeks. his fingertips flutter over the spots afterwards, leaving goosebumps in their wake despite the heat radiating between them. 
“must have loved you a whole lot in our last lives to leave so many on you now,” eddie whispers, pulling back to stroke the back of his hand over steve’s face once more, letting his lips curl up in a dopey half smile that only steve ever gets to see. 
it doesn’t take long for steve to tilt his head up and press kisses of his own where he can; under eddie’s eye, the bottom of his chin, right over his heart. it doesn’t take long for eddie to giggle as his sensitive spots are found and attacked with ticklish kisses and fluttering eyelashes. it doesn’t take long for their legs to tangle together underneath the sheets and their breaths to get caught in their chests and their hearts to start beating a beautiful melody of their own making. 
steve lays a firm kiss to the side of eddie’s chest, over jagged white scarring and half bitten away tattoos. over memories that somehow don’t haunt them as much anymore. 
“what was that one for?” eddie asks, eyes half lidded, the adoration in his voice loud across the quiet room. 
another kiss on another scar. “wanna give you some freckles. for your next life and for this one, too. so you know just how sweet on you I am-” kiss, “ -and was-” kiss, “- and forever will be.”
they won’t know for however many more years if it worked or not. but here in this lifetime, they have all the time in the world to try their damndest to make sure it does. in this lifetime, they don’t have to worry, because they know they’ll  find each other in the next one. 
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liketolovexx · 27 days
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James Potter is easily the biggest of the three. He’s just so muscular and strong, but in a soft way. He’s got a soft layer of fat protecting his muscles, and I imagine he’s very freckled too. Not sure why. He is the epitome of a golden retriever boyfriend. He likes being the big spoon, and has an INCREDIBLE weak spot for getting his hair played with. Like, it’s literally orgasmic to him. He grew up with everything. Love, money, etc, etc, so he’s probably the touchiest (at first), and is all over you from the start. Also, I think he often forgets his strength and squeezes u too hard and you’ve gotta be like “uh.. Jamie..? You’re.. you’re kinda squeezing-“ and he just puts an arm over ur mouth like “shut up, baby. Sorry. Love you.” He’s adorable.
Remus Lupin is just a normal sized boy, and runs hot like a radiator. Honestly. He doesn’t even need all those knitted sweaters and warm coffee because he just is the embodiment of autumn warmth. He’s littered with silver scars from his lycanthropy, so when u see him naked for the first time, he’s so self conscious. He’d have his arms wrapped around himself, shielding his scars from your view, and you’ve got to prize his hands off of himself. “I’m sorry.. i know they’re not.. appealing.. it’s…” and you’re just like “woah, rem, what? You’re fucking beautiful.” You say that, and he’s yours. He’s not used to love like James is, but he’s probably the one to start getting cuddly. I imagine it’s winter and he’s reading in the common room, and ur shivering because by some miracle the fire isn’t on. He looks up from his book, admiring you for a while and then lifts up his sweater. You SHOOT underneath it and basically curl up like a cat against his bare chest. I repeat: HE IS SO FUCKING WARM. You’d probably have an ‘eternal sunshine of the spotless mind’ moment with him at the start of your relationship though. You know when Clementine is saying she always thought she was ugly and Joel starts kissing her and saying “you’re pretty, you’re pretty, you’re pretty…” yeah, you’d be Joel and he’d be Clementine. But once he’s comfortable, he’s a fucking fiend. You’ll never be cold again, trust me.
Sirius Black is skinny and pale. Like a vampire. Endearingly. I imagine he has a nose piercing and an eyebrow piercing, and he’s all tattooed up. Will DEFINITELY get your initial on his abdomen or collarbone in swirly penmanship. Sirius will act like your best friend even when u two are dating. Bless him though, he’s so used to being hurt and abused by those that are meant to protect him that he can’t trust you at first. I think the first time he came to realise you were different is when you asked him what happened after winter break at his parent’s house, because he was being really quiet and flinching a lot which is unlike him. You cornered him in the common room when no one else was there, and asked him “hey, Siri? What’s going on, man? Tell me.” He insisted, “I’m fine. I swear, sweetheart.” You went to tuck his black curls behind his ear but he flinched, which shattered your heart. You said “Sirius, please. I need to know you’re okay, because I need you safe.” And hearing that, he broke down into your arms. From then on, he’s always in your arms. He adores comforting you, because he’s a big brother himself and so he has the instinct, you know? But man, does he fucking adore being in your arms. He WILL curl up beside you wherever you’re sitting or lying, and is always rubbing against you. He always says “I can’t help it, babe, it’s just the dog in me.” Which he seems to find HILARIOUS. Oh yeah, and he literally can’t sleep unless you’re the big spoon or his head is on your chest or in your neck. He likes to feel safe and protected for once, and you do that for him to no end. He’s THE 70s rocker stereotype, and he loves having matching nail polish with you. You’re best friends as well as lovers.
Sorry for yapping to no end guys!!!
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wynnyfryd · 6 months
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Trailer Park Steve AU part 3
part 1 | part 2
(tw: guns, accidental death)
Robin’s already in full panic mode by the time Steve pulls up to her place, flinging the passenger door open and throwing herself into the car with so much force that the car bounces on its wheels a little. “Drive!!”
“Jesus Christ, good morning to you, too.”
“Steve!”
Steve starts to drive.
Beside him, Robin flips the visor down to look at her reflection; groans and scrubs her hands down her face in misery at whatever she sees. Steve doesn’t really get it. He thinks she looks beautiful, with her hair gently moving in the breeze from the open window, with her freckles lit up by the early morning sun.
“Ugh,” she says, turning to look at him, “I can’t believe I look like a zombie and you’re gonna make me late to the first day of school.”
“Wow.” Fuckin’ ingrate. And when he was just being so nice to her in his head. “How about a thank you, huh? ‘Thanks for picking me up, Steve. Thanks for bringing my backpack, Steve. Sorry you almost got shanked by your neighbor, Steve.’”
“You what???”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Um, yes it very much does matter, what the—”
“—I’m just saying, a little gratitude? Wouldn’t hurt you.”
He licks at the corner of his mouth, spritzes wiper fluid to clear the bugs off the windshield. Robin’s eyes are bulging out of her head, but he really doesn’t want to talk about how he still feels the ghost press of steel against his throat, so: “You’re not even right, by the way; I don’t know why you’re complaining.”
“Huh?”
“School started yesterday. I’m making you late for the second day of school.”
“Yesss,” she draws the word out like he’s stupid, rolling her wrist in a hurry up and get it motion, “but everyone knows that syllabus day doesn’t count. The first pep rally is the real first day of school.”
Ah, there it is.
Steve steals another peek at his best friend while they’re on a straightaway, notes the nervous twitch of her hands as she goes back to fussing at her reflection; the way she’s clumping her lashes together with seven coats too many of some drugstore brand mascara. She’s wearing lipstick. “This is about Vick—”
“—Don’t talk about—”
“—It’s about Vickie, isn’t it?”
“Ughhhhh.” Robin folds forward and thunks her head against the dash. “Fine, okay? Fine! Yes! This may have something to do with a distressingly cute fellow marching band member. Are you happy now?”
“Ecstatic.”
“Oooh, big word for you, Steven.” She swats him on the shoulder, face all twisted up in offense. “Stop laughing!”
“Stop hitting me,” he laughs. “I’ll dump your ass out on this highway.”
She gasps and narrows her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”
Steve eases his foot onto the brake.
“Okay, okay! Mercy! I’m being an asshole, alright? I’m sorry. I’m just— I’m stressed! Being gay is very stressful.”
The knife incident pops back into his mind. “Yeah,” he mutters, “I imagine it is.”
He catches himself slouching down into his seat a bit when they pull up to the school. Has to force himself to sit upright, hears his mother’s tutting in his ear about bad posture and the message it projects to the world.
It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be here; really, he isn’t. He’s just hoping to avoid being spotted by the nuggets now that they go here, too, lest he be accosted for evading his chauffeur duties.
God.
Dustin’s nerd shit is infecting his brain.
Robin grabs her bag out of the back seat, plants a parting peck on Steve’s cheek as she gets out of the car. “See you later?”
“Yeah, I’ll pick you up for work.”
“Love you, dingus.”
And then he’s alone again.
With Robin gone, Steve finds himself driving. Wandering and aimless, like a ghost who doesn’t know he’s gone. It’s not like he has nothing to do — he’s supposed to be out finding a second job, finding a way to support himself and his mom, because he’s the man of the house now. Because his life has turned into one of those shitty, overcomplicated word problems from math class.
If a recently widowed mother works no hours and her minimum-wage son works as many as Family Video will allow, how much mold-riddled dogshit housing can they afford?
Not much.
Inevitably, he finds himself circling the scorched bones of Starcourt, driving tired loops around the barbed wire perimeter. His ghost likes to guide him here; can’t shake the place where he shook off the mortal coil.
He didn’t know it at the time, but Steve Harrington died the day the mall burned down. Embarrassing, to not hear the death knell as his family name went up in smoke.
It was hard to hear much at all that night, between the concussion and the fireworks and the shrieking of a monster being torn apart, but the memory caresses his mind now in cruel whispers: the headrush of victory; the blood and the sweat; the relief that they’d won, they’d done it, it’s over, they won.
Steve tugs at his bad ear ‘til the ringing subsides.
Some fucking grand prize.
The thing is, you can’t go around exploding an eldritch horror without alerting the US government, and the US government can’t go around letting major investors in a hostile commie invasion keep their assets once they find out about their treasonous schemes. It happened fast: the arrest, the bail, the impending trial and the seizure of property. Richard Harrington was once a small town god on an invisible throne, making deals with devils in shadowy boardrooms, and suddenly he was looking at life in a cell.
Maybe it was a blessing he died before his reckoning was due. Maybe it was no accident at all.
The second, and perhaps more important, thing is: stray bullets don’t care about your looming court date.
Dad had a habit of cleaning his guns while he was drunk, nursing a whiskey in one hand while he polished the gleaming barrels with the other. Pointless, really, because the guns were always pristine to begin with. Dick Harrington didn’t hunt. Didn’t shoot. Claimed the pistol was for home defense, that he kept it loaded in case anyone ever tried to hurt his family, but Steve knew the truth.
His dad just liked to flirt with death. Liked to handle pretty, deadly things, stroke his fingers over ruthless metal and feel the rush of power when he walked away unscathed.
He didn’t walk away that night.
Didn’t even face death standing.
Sliced through his femoral artery and rolled right out of his chair.
They found him lying on the ground in a dark, sticky puddle, gasping like a fish as blood spurted from his thigh. Crazy how fast it happened. Steve had been in his room when the shot rang out, and he barely managed to reach the bottom of the stairs before the gurgling noises stopped. Just boom! whizz! bang! and Dick Harrington was gone.
Maybe it’s a good thing, too, that they lost the house.
The image of his mother in the hallway that night — shellshocked in the doorway, one pale hand shaking in front of her open mouth, features wide and wet with waking horror as she stared into the room — was enough to make him never want to step foot in the place again.
So now they live in a rundown piece of shit on the wrong side of town, with hideous burnt orange carpet and wood paneled walls, with cracks in the ceiling and cigarette burns in the walls, some parting gifts from whatever feral hick lived there before them, and it feels like another cruel, cosmic joke. Like the universe is delighting in the Harringtons’ comeuppance; like the blackened beams and brick rubble of Starcourt are all twisting to form one great, mocking mouth; the better to smile and laugh at their misfortune.
You bought your bed, now you have to lie in it.
He didn’t even know that the Harringtons owned Forest Hills until it was the only asset left to their name.
He’s pretty sure his dad bought it more as a joke than a genuine investment. Meant to teach Steve a lesson, like how he used to bring home Waffle House applications whenever Steve got a C on a report card. This is your future if you don’t straighten up, son.
Kill yourself, dad.
Oh, wait.
You already did.
part 4
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forlix · 7 months
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𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・792 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・felix x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲(𝘀)・fluff, established relationship, lots of kissing (again), a lil suggestive towards the end, inspired by his pictures from paris, which i am just. SOOOOOO normal about
“Careful, my love,” Felix murmurs, his huff of laughter tickling the side of your neck when he loops a wary arm around your waist. You first feel your weight lifting off the metal railing of the double-decker bus, then the taut warmth of your boyfriend’s chest as you’re pulled against it.
When you lift your eyes to look at Felix, you have to squint against the sun—or maybe it’s him that’s making it so hard to see, wisps of blonde hair framing his face like freshly spun gold, flawless features illuminated so gloriously that he looks like an exhibit in the Louvre come alive.
“What was that for?” You ask with a furrowed brow, and Felix doesn’t reply right away, suddenly captivated by your newfound proximity.
His gaze darts to your lips; the rest of him follows. You perceive a delicate finger under your chin, a deliberate angle of his head, a tensing of his hand where it slides over your hip. And then he’s kissing you, so sweetly that you’re reminded of whipped cream, his mouth melting your pout to a defenseless smile. 
“You looked like—you were gonna—drop your phone.” These words are woven between three last pecks, the first placed to your lips, the second and third to each of your cheeks. Then Felix pulls away, only far enough for you to spot the teasing smile on his face. “Or fall off the bus. Neither outcome would’ve been ideal.”
“Did I really?” You giggle. “I didn’t even notice.”
“Yes. Or, I think so. I can’t remember anymore.” The tip of his nose bumps against yours lightly, affectionately, and you think your knees would’ve given at his next words if you weren’t literally wrapped in his arms. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.”
As you lift a hand to trace the contours of his jaw, to bring your fingers around the curve of his nape, you’re beginning to think they had a point, dubbing Paris the City of Love. You swear that his eyes have never been browner; that his freckles have never been so numerous; that you’ve never been as utterly and hopelessly beguiled with Lee Felix as you are right here, right now.
An idea surfaces—suddenly, surely. “Let me take pictures of you.”
A surprised chuckle rises to his throat. “Why?”
“Just trust me, baby.” And he does, with everything in him.
You untangle yourself from his embrace and settle into a seat on the other side of the bus. The next minutes are spent with him adopting various poses and postures before your lens, your fingers toying with the different lighting and focus settings as you attempt to capture him within the world of your screen—ironic, considering he’s a world in himself. The only one that matters; the only one that ever will.
When you’re finally finished, Felix is already motioning for you to return to his side, not wanting you out of his reach for a second longer than you absolutely need to be. You settle in Felix’s lap once you’re close enough—your legs hanging off the side of his seat, your temple leaning against his forehead—and the way his arms circle so readily and securely around your stomach feels like a cushioned fall.
“Tell me now?” He hums, planting a soft kiss to your cheek.
You heartbeat is in your ears as you start to flip through your camera roll. The pictures are perfect. He’s perfect. The princely man in the foreground of each puts even the stunning Parisian weather to shame.
“I wanted you to see yourself the way I do,” you whisper. “And only then would you really understand the meaning of that word, in its purest and brightest form.”
Felix feels his eyes widen; his breath catch in his throat. You hear the scratch of his interrupted inhale, and you're almost nervous when you turn to meet his eyes, despite your love feeling like it’s spanned lifetimes by now. And you know by his darkened gaze and flushed cheeks that he knows just which word you’re referring to.
Then, Felix closes the distance between the two of you again, but this kiss is completely devoid of the last one’s gentleness, open-mouthed, positively scalding, and intensely loving. Your lips sting a bit where his crash; your scalp tingles where he rakes a hand through your hair; your back shivers where the vibrations of his voice travel, his words nearly growled against your mouth.
“I love you,” he breathes.
Your palm comes to rest upon his chest, and the way his every heartbeat moulds to your touch is nothing short of classical.
“I love you more, beautiful.”
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𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 (open): @astraystayyh @like-a-diamondinthesky @fire-08
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𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡
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© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
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loveshotzz · 7 months
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My name’s Elvira, but you can call me tonight
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steve harrington x eddie’sbestfriend!reader
Melt With You
summary: A cancelled movie night, Steve’s first high, and a realization you weren’t expecting.
wc: 2.7k
warnings: my blog is 18+ but this will be pretty safe for work. takes place in 1988 when Elvira Mistress of the Dark came out. post season four but no mention of the upside down, fem!reader, mentions of weed smoking, mentions of being stoned and being high for the first time, mutual pining, cuddling.
A/N: first I want to dedicate this to @bewilderedbunny for pointing out that Steve Harrington is Bob coded which made me fall even more in love with him. You can also thank @dr-aculaaa for putting this brain worm in my head where it spiraled and then she entertained it again and it spiraled some more. p.s. I know her movie macabre was cancelled in 86 but brought back in the 90’s but let’s pretend.
mini series masterlist -> chapter two 🎃
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Steve was close. Too close.
His thigh is warm pressed against yours, long legs spread wide taking up most of the room on the couch. The cedar that clings to the threads of his maroon sweater mix with the old spice that he’s almost sprayed too much of, and you’re surprised at how much you actually like it. You blame it on the joint you both shared, and you do it again when his socked foot touches yours from under the blanket draped across your laps and your heart rate kicks up a few beats. This was just Steve, your new friend. Eddie’s new unlikely friend.
The living room in your apartment is dimly lit in a mess of Halloween colored string lights strung up along your walls that Eddie helped you hang up last week on the first official day of fall. They fill the small space in bursts of warm orange pumpkins and tiny purple bats while Elvira Mistress of The Dark glows from the screen of your TV in front of your couch. The couch where Steve is still sitting too close. 
The flicker of your candles dances across your walls and you’re tempted to blow them all out when they keep catching the corner of your eye. Maybe that's why you can't focus on the movie you were so excited about. The movie you raised a big fuss over when the group canceled your weekly night in favor of dates and work. The movie Steve still offered to watch with you saying he had no plans anyway. You really contemplate it when you realize it’s filling your living room with the kind of smell that’s eerily similar to the one embedded in the leather of the BMW you recently started getting more rides in.
When Steve laughs you can smell the berry on his breath from the Red Vines he can’t stop eating, his fingertips glisten from the half finished tub of popcorn on the coffee table. His arm brushes the length of yours when he leans forward to toss the almost empty pack of candy with the rest of the snacks and your stare immediately finds the sliver of tan skin revealed to you when the maroon hem rides up. Stomach flipping when you spot more freckles than the ones that seem to dot the endless expanses of his perpetually sun kissed skin. 
“Wow, she’s funny!” He snickers like he just got a good surprise, leaning back into the cushions. “I didn’t know she was so funny.”
The shift in his weight makes the couch dip, bringing you closer to him. Shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. Why is your chest tight?
Turning your head, you meet his blood shot, heavy lidded gaze and lazy smile that pushes up his pink cheeks. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Steve Harrington so content. So relaxed. It might have something to do with the fact that the joint you both shared was his first.
“Beauty, humor and brains? How could you go wrong?” You grin and it makes the amber in his eyes light up.
“Yeah,” He stares at you for a second longer than he’d have the guts to on a normal day before adding with a sigh “tell me about it.”
There was something different about the way he was looking at you tonight, and it makes your palms sweat. The fly away honey strands that stick out wildly by his ears look softer than normal too. Why do you want to find out? Clearing your throat, he raises his eyebrows up at you in an unphased offering of his attention.
“How are you doing big boy? You coughed quite a bit earlier.” His gaze narrows at the nickname letting you know that Steve was still very much in there.
“I think it’s perfectly normal for someone who hasn’t smoked before to cough when they take an accidental big hit,” he challenges, his sock covered toes finding yours again seemingly on their own, “and to answer your rudely asked question, I’m having a very nice time.”
He tries to keep his face straight but the smile that stretches a mile wide across yours makes him snort, the whites of his perfect teeth blinding in the dark when you wiggle your feet with his. 
“Good, I wouldn’t want Robin to come hunt me down or something.” You giggle leaning back letting your own high relax you into the couch.
Your eyes find Elvira’s generous cleavage on the screen as you try to ignore the feeling of Steve’s hand touching yours when he scratches his thigh and again when he leaves it there. 
“Robin won’t care, it’s Nance you gotta worry about. Worry wart Wheeler.” The nickname rolls off his tongue too easily and makes you both stop, letting the sounds of the towns committee trying to get Elvira out fill the silence before you both fall into a fit of laughter.
It was the kind of laughter that left hot tears streaming down your faces as you leaned even further into each other trying to catch your breath, only for one of you to mutter ‘worry wart wheeler’ when the other would finally be holding it together just to start all over again. By the time it was done, and the last few chuckles subsided, his head had found a new home on your shoulder with his forehead buried in the crook of your neck. 
The smell of his hairspray, and the soft flyaways you’d wondered about tickle your nose with his hair pressed to your cheek. Your socked feet stay tangled together as you try not to think about the size difference and that stupid saying you’d heard in middle school, and you definitely try not to think about how the tip of his pinky bumps into the side of your hand and how you don’t hesitate to hook it with yours.
Cozy. Too Cozy.
There’s a comfortable silence that falls between you both when your attention is finally brought back to the movie and you wonder if he’s having the same existential crisis as you at how good this feels. Eddie would never let you live it down. You and the hair?! Steve’s amused hum breaks you out of your train of thought and you already know you’ll have to watch this again when you aren’t so…distracted. 
Elvira and Bob are fighting with a monster she accidentally concocted inside of a pot instead of the casserole she was trying to make, and his finger tightens around yours when Bob almost loses the fight before he shakes against you with a chuckle. The longer the movie goes on, the more you start noticing Steve’s similarities to the hunk who stole the Mistress of the Dark’s affections, mumbling an ‘oh my god’.
God dammit, you have a crush on Steve Harrington.
The weed makes the realization floor you more than it probably would on a normal day, because you aren’t blind, anyone could tell you how handsome the former king of Hawkins is. But no one could have warned you about how soft he is, especially right now with sleepy eyes and messy hair that smells like pine and too much hair product. They wouldn’t be able to tell you how big of a dweeb he is, or as Robin affectionately calls him a ‘dingus’. They also don’t know how good of a friend he is to anyone who’s lucky to have him, like refusing to let you spend the night alone and watching a movie he knew you were excited about just because he’d actually listened when you talked about it for weeks, even saving you the first copy in Keith’s possession. 
Too bad you’ve barely retained any of it. 
As if he could hear your thoughts, you feel the slight turn of his head and the heavy weight of his stare on the side of your face. You try not to give yourself away and keep your gaze locked on the TV where the town has Elvira ready to be burned at the stake, and Bob has to rescue her. You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes, the universe just rubbing it in now. 
The side of your body he’s been leaning against starts to go numb, and no matter how much you want to stay exactly like this for whatever is left of the night, the need for circulation becomes too much. Your eyes flick down to his that haven’t haven’t wavered and that slow happy smile spreads across his pink lips when they meet. 
“You doing okay, honey.” The nickname he’s called you sarcastically in arguments sounds different when it’s wrapped in affection like this. 
“Not that I’m not enjoying -,” nerves make your throat close up and you have to clear them out before you finish, “not that I’m not enjoying this. My arm is just kind of going numb.”
Heat rises to your cheeks with embarrassment that you know is misplaced, and his eyes go wide when your words click. His reaction is fast despite the smoked joint that's snuffed out in an empty coke can on the table when he pulls away. The warmth of his body that’s invaded what feels like every inch of yours for the last hour is gone and the tightness in your chest worsens now that you miss it. Stupid crush. Stupid blood flow. 
“Oh my god, sorry, sorry, I was just so comfortable I wasn’t even thinking.” There’s stress in his tone that you haven’t heard all night and you decide that you hate it, he’s always stressed.
“Hey,” Your fingers curl around his bicep, and it flexes under the thick material of his sweater when his eyes meet yours, making you forget how to speak for a moment, “if we lay down on our sides we’ll - we’ll be more comfortable?” 
Your heart beats loud in your ears after you throw out your suggestion fully knowing there’s gotta be less than twenty minutes left of the movie at most. 
“Yeah, we can do that, like, big spoon?” He points to himself, with eyes as red as his cheeks before pointing to you with a small grin, “little spoon?”
You bite your bottom lip to contain the smile that threatens to break across your face, and it only makes his grow. 
“Yeah, just like that Harrington.” You giggle and you don’t miss the kind of glint in his eyes that sparkles because of it.
“Harrington? I thought I was big boy?” He mocks with fake offense, clumsily clambering back onto the couch letting himself fully extend.
His socked feet almost hang off the armrest but the problem is quickly solved when he turns onto his side leaving just enough room for you. One of his big hands patting the cushions in an invitation that makes you both laugh. 
“I thought you hated that nickname?” you tease, butterflies that never existed before erupting when he watches you with soft eyes climb into the spot next to him.
Your head lands in the crook of his elbow, amber and spice enveloping you while one of his long fingers curl around your hip not hesitating to pull you flush against his chest like he missed you. Maybe you weren’t the only one with a wandering mind tonight. 
“I don’t,” he agrees, lips coming up right next to your ear and you wonder if he can feel the shiver that runs down your spine, “but I kinda like it when you say it.”
Your body curls into him when you giggle with a throb in your core that makes your thighs press together. Steve chuckles, hooking his chin over your shoulder and his feet find yours at the end of the couch like they did under the blanket. Grabbing the throw off the floor, you drape it back over the two of you when you both finally get situated. 
He feels like he’s everywhere and it’s even harder to concentrate like this, especially when all his fingers are laced with yours now. The pad of his thumb rubs circles on the top of your hand, and you can feel the way his cheeks push up into a grin every time something makes him laugh. You spend the last bit of what’s left of the movie tangled up with him like this, and neither one of you try to move when the credits roll or when the screen goes black. 
The air buzzes with the kind of tension that’s laid dormant until there’s nothing to distract you from it anymore in the new silence. His breath fans hot across your neck while the strokes of his thumb get slower, adding a little more pressure to the muscle there, and feels good enough to have your eyes flutter closed. 
Maybe it’s the darkness of your living room, or the way the tip of his nose starts to trace the shell of your ear but you get the surge of confidence you need to turn around and face him. Steve doesn’t protest at all, letting you move with the kind of ease that makes you wonder if he was waiting for it all along. The small smile on his face tells you he absolutely was.
The new angle has you looking up at him from under your lashes, while his hand that held yours all night covers the middle of your back bringing you to his chest, getting you just as close as before. Your legs slot together while warm lights flicker across his face, they bounce and reflect off the lingering glaze that coats his eyes. Embers burning in a mossy ground. 
It starts to feel like Steve Harrington wants to kiss you, and you’d be lying if your said you didn’t want him too.
“Hi” You whisper, the corners of your lips pulling up because they can’t help it when he looks at you like this.
“Hi” the rich honey of his voice comes out low as he dips his head down to rest on his forearm right above yours.
The tips of your noses are dangerously close to touching, and you swear you hear his breath hitch when your feet find his again. Holding his gaze, you silently dare him to read your mind so you don’t have to say it out loud. You do it first.
“I had a lot of fun tonight.” You try not to think about how it sounds like something you’d say at the end of a date.
“Me too, I’m uh -“ a puff of hot air fans across your face when he laughs, and you notice his first sign of nerves all night, “I’m glad I didn’t make a fool of myself or anything.” 
“I have to say I’m impressed, you handled your first joint like a pro.” Your hands dare to run up his chest, plucking a piece of lint from the threads of his sweater. You feel the way the muscles in his stomach flex for you, and you have to bite back your smirk.
“I had good company is all.” He hums, the blunt ends of his nails scratching along the dip of your back, before whispering “Is this okay?”
Your eyes flutter shut with contentment you haven’t felt in a while, your whole body melting into his with a mumbled ‘mmmhm’
“Does Elvira have any other movies we could watch sometime?” His question makes your eyes pop open, and he tries to look as nonchalant as possible before adding, “you know just me and you.”
“Not a movie, per say but she has a show I like to watch where she does funny commentary on B rated horror films.” Your two feet trap one of his between them playfully to try and ease the nerves he shouldn’t have, earning you that megawatt smile that’s made half the ladies in Hawkins swoon. 
So, Steve Harrington wasn’t a mind reader.
“That sounds like fun,” He lets out a relieved sigh that you didn’t know he was holding, close enough now for your noses to touch.
“Yeah? You wanna come have fun with me?” You tease, but it comes out sounding like a double entendre that makes your skin heat up, especially when Steve closes his eyes and groans. The nails that scratch your back freeze as he tries regaining some semblance of self control. Licking his lips, he exhales a breath out of his nose before he speaks,
“Abso-“
His answer gets cut off by the sound of your front door slamming open, followed by the bellowing voice of the only other person who has keys to your apartment.
“I’ve come for boobies and I brought beer! Better late than never am I ri- Whoa, whoa, WHOA, what is going on here?” Eddie’s shock is quickly replaced by amusement, dimples poking deep holes in his cheeks when he grins wildly as he takes in the two of you on the couch.
What was going on here?
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jjunberry · 4 months
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enhypen! when you draw hearts on them
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★☆ jungwon:
the two of you had spent the majority of today lazing inside cuddling. he had a day off and wanted to spend it with you. you were laying on your stomach sketching while jungwon laid next to you on his phone. you sighed and turned towards your boyfriend. he peaked over at you.
he grinned and rolled you up in his arms. letting out a shriek as you ended up sitting on his thighs. sitting back and admiring his beauty you got an idea. “oh wonnie stay there.” you leaned over grabbing your pencil case. inside your fingers shifted through the colors. deciding on red you placed the case down and turned towards jungwon.
his smile was wide. you uncapped the marker and leaned down. jungwon blushed as you got closer to him. using the marker you started drawing small hearts across his cheeks. “y/nie what are you doing?” he giggled. “wonnie be still i’m making art on art here!” he giggled some more.
smiling and leaning back you capped the marker. “done!” you cheered. you got off his lap and pulled him up. “go look!” jungwon went to the hallway mirror. there he saw the heart freckles you gave him. standing next to him you smiled. “aren’t you just so cute.” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, causing them to turn pink.
★☆ heeseung:
heeseung was spread out on the couch with his arm wrapped around you, while you cuddled into his side. the two of you were at the dorm with the others. you spaced out when heeseung pulled you closer to him. his cologne filling your senses. you traced your finger down his arm. you felt the tiny bumps rise on his skin as you traced your finger up and down.
smiling to yourself you started drawing hearts on his arm with your finger. heeseung smiled realizing the shape you were drawing on his skin. he let you continue enjoying the moment of closeness with you. he felt at peace seeing his members happy and having you in his arms.
you took your finger and traced out i love you which caused him to pull you into a hug and kiss you. “i love you too.” he said. you giggled and he left kisses all over your face. in the moment it really felt like just the two of you.
“are you two done reminding us we are single?” sunoo asked. you guys started laughing. “sorry.” you blushed. heeseung smirked pulling you into his arms again. which caused the members to playfully groan.
★☆ jay:
he was packing to leave for a few shows. you spent half the day cuddling until he said it was time to pack. you laid on the bed and sadly watched him pack. “baby stop pouting, you’re to pretty to be sad.” you groaned hiding your blush. leave it to jay. he laughed before finally zipping up his suitcase. jay bounced on the bed rolling you up his arms.
“it’s only two days, then i’ll be home.” he said into your neck before leaving kisses. you giggled before pushing him back slightly. “you better hurry home to me.” he nodded. “of course my lady.” that’s how the rest of the night went. cuddles and kisses. you dreaded tomorrow morning.
when jay’s alarm went off you were already awake. jay groaned turing off his alarm. his eyes found yours. “why are you already awake?” he asked knowing you weren’t a morning person. “i wanted to make sure i seen you before you left.” he smiled giving you a kiss.
jay was dressed and ready to walk out the door but stopped hearing you yell for him to wait. you rushed around the corner with a permanent marker in your hand. you gripped his wrist turning the inside towards yourself.
using the marker you drew a small heart on the inside of his wrist. you placed a kiss over the spot. “have fun and be safe i love you.” he kissed you. “i love you too.”
on the plane he ran his finger over the heart and smiled.
★☆ jake:
the two of you were playing a game of guessing what the other was drawing by feel. drawing different shapes and different phrases. the room was full of giggles. jake had just finished drawing a flower on you. “okay okay my turn.” you managed to get through the giggles.
you and jake have only been dating for a few months but you were ready to tell him you loved him. letting out a breath you stood behind him. he giggled. “jake i haven’t even started yet focus!” you laughed. he nodded and stood still.
you traced along his back with your finger. you wrote out i. he giggled “i” he said. you drew a heart. “heart.” he added. his smile was wide. you finished by writing you. “you.” he let out a breath. “i heart you.” he said turning around. you looked up at him. “i heart you.” he repeated.
jake wrapped his arms around your waist. he rested his forehead against yours. “i love you.” he said. you smiled and placed your lips on his. “i love you too.”
★☆ sunghoon:
you and sunghoon were sitting on a blanket in a quiet park. pinterest had given you the idea of a painting date in the park. he was focused on his canvas while you were focused on him. he looked so concentrated. you watched his hand work at making his vision come to life on the canvas.
you dipped your paint brush in your pink paint and painted a heart on his arm. he stopped his actions and stared at you. with a smiled you painted another one. he smiled and used his to paint one on you.
neglecting your canvases the two of you continued to paint small hearts and different designs on each others arms. as the sun started to set the two of you gathered your belongings. taking your hand sunghoon walked with you to the car. you got a few stares for being covered in paint but you didn’t care. you loved sunghoon and loved to show it.
★☆ sunoo:
sunoo and yourself were watching videos when you got an idea. you wiggled out of his arms and ran off. he looked at you funny be returned to the video. when you came back with a marker he raised an eyebrow. “what are you up too?” he asked.
you smiled uncapping the marker. “ i want to draw on you.” he sighed. “why there’s paper.” you groaned. “sunooooo pleaseeeee.” he sighed before pulling up the sleeve of his shirt. “fine, you’re lucky there is no schedules tomorrow.” you squealed before you took his arm.
he rolled his eyes but turned and smiled. while he watched his video you doodled on his arm. after awhile his arm was covered in “i love yous” smiley faces but sunoo’s favorites was the hearts you drew.
his cheekes heated up as he looked at his arm. you capped the marker and looked towards him. “do you like it?” he smiled and kissed your cheek. “love it but i guess i love you more.” you smiled and leaned into him.
★☆ niki:
niki was sleeping when you tip toed into the bedroom. you had a permanent marker and a plan of revenge. a few days ago niki had managed to draw all over you while you slept. you had promised to get him back. today was that day.
he came home from practice, showered and fell asleep. you carefully approached him and uncapped the marker. he shifted slightly but was still fast asleep. you started drawing hearts and “love you” all over him.
the marker must have been tickling him because just as you were about to draw another heart his voice stopped you. “y/n what are you doing?” you gasped and fell back on your butt.
he looked at his arms covered in your doodles and blushed seeing your hearts. “y/n! i have practice tomorrow.” you giggled. “guess you’ll have to shower again.” he didn’t respond he jumped off the bed and you scrambled to your feet as he began chasing you. both of your giggles filled the apartment.
-
author’s note! first enhypen reaction i hope you enjoyed it as much i enjoyed writing it i really love these boys <333
love, Echo🖤
© jjunberry
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hwajin · 4 months
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#! — [ camellia ] hwang hyunjin
— gn!reader // sfw // i've been to a monet exhbition and it made me write this (to be loved by an artist huh)
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"I never knew I had a mole there."
"It's my favourite one on you."
A painting of your nude back, and you inspected it with careful eyes. Hyunjin had always had a talent of capturing the mundane, in art or photography as much as in every day life - he loved pointing out the simplicity of a sunset when hand in hand on a walk with you, or how a bee would sit silently on a flower before it made its' journey to the next one; things you'd had never learned to notice if he hadn't had tought you.
The painting was breathtaking. Not life-size - Hyunjin confessed he didn't have the courage for such challenges yet - though it was big; and on the white canvas, against a brown underwash blooming features of you, in most detail. Hyunjin had painted every of your pore, your every roll which had folded on your back when you had craned your neck to look at the artist who had been trying to capture the beauty you bore, right after waking up a morning - he had drawn every mole which adorned your body, as pale and small it was, because he knew each of them by heart, had added most of them from memory. And you've never been aware of it. You've never noticed that his kisses, each and every night anew, walked the same path across your body, travelling up and down the constellations on your skin, memorizing every brown mark, every pale freckle. That his fingers would instinctly find the same spots on your skin to absentmindendly caress while laying together entangled, that he lit up whenever a new mark bloomed on your body to dote on, to love. You never even knew he had a favourite one - a favourite mole, how absurd it was. And yet how teary-eyed you grew from his confession.
You eyed the painted mole by the small of your back, a tiny dot on paint-laid canvas, yet it held the world within. Unnoticed if shown to anyone else - though most sacred artifact for you, his model and muse, his lover for eternity.
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@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife
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sincericida · 5 months
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ANDREW GARFIELD
all black in Valentino - at the GQ Men of the Year Party 2023 | at Bar Marmont, in LA - 11/16/2023
(X)
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dantakeyoman · 1 year
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Hi! I wanna cry out my heart tonight so is it alright for you to make a neteyam x reader where neteyam comes back home after the war but hears that reader is mated/bonded with someone else?
Btw I love your works omg! 🥹
Neteyam Returns From the Metkayina and Falls In Love With You Again After Seeing You (SFW / Comfort)
Reader is Fem! Omaticaya
CW: i'm sorry but i couldn't bring myself to do it :'), i had it all planned out but it was just too sad, i hope you're alright with the change tho, fluffy fluff, simp Neteyam appearance, reader is one too, Lo'ak and Kiri are, yet again, Lo'ak and Kiri, skeezy is when someone is weird or creepy, figured I’d slide some black slang in there
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"Someone's excited," Kiri giggles, turning to Neteyam as her and Lo'ak's ikran approached the entrance to the Omaticaya Stronghold.
The boy had had this childlike expression plastered on his face nearly the whole way home, which grew in giddiness the closer the family drew to their forest home.
Even in the earlier days when they had stopped for rest, she clearly remembered how much he mumbled your name in his sleep, as if it were a prayer.
It made her want to swoon and gag at the same time.
He's so hopeless.
"Yeah. We all know what your excited to see," Lo'ak smirked, pulling his ikran closer to Neteyam's, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Or should I say...who?"
Neteyam scoffed, rolling his eyes at their antics.
Ever since their journey started, the teasing had been relentless. So much so that it didn't even faze him anymore.
What's a few more minutes of it anyway?
Seeing you again would be his greatest reward.
Four years of pining and longing would all be worth it. 
The hard days, the cold nights, the times where he felt like he couldn't anymore. You came to him, be it a dream, or a memory, and told him you could.
It was what made him love you so much.
Even if you weren’t there, you were there for him, easing his body, mind, and soul.
Back when he lived with the Omaticaya, you two had a special spot that one would go to if they were sad, mad, tired, or simply overwhelmed.
The other would comfort them, hold them close, say sweet nothings, make the other feel loved. 
It became a regular thing. And now that he was coming back, it was the very first thing he wanted to do with you.
He wanted to feel you run your hands through his hair, he wanted you to trace his glowing freckles, he wanted you whisper how much you loved him into his ear.
Fuck.
“You know what would be hilarious? If she found a mate already,” Lo’ak poorly joked, turning to Kiri.
This quickly brought Neteyam out of his reverie, a nervous frown quickly replacing his smile
Kiri was quick to catch this.
“Don’t joke like that, skxawng!” she scolded, flicking him harshly on the head, earning an angry ow! from him.
“Last I checked, (y/n) was obsessed with Neteyam. She wouldn’t shut up about him. I highly doubt she would ever find someone else.”
But the words went through one ear and out the other.
The thought you would mate with someone else never crossed Neteyam’s mind. But now that it did, it made perfect sense.
Four years was a long time, and you were a beautiful woman.
No doubt some skeezy warrior tried to snatch you up the moment you came of age.
The thought made his blood boil, and his heart wrench.
This couldn’t be the case.
After all he’d been through throughout these four years, the only thing that was keeping him going was the thought of you waiting for him at home.
Now that there was a possibility of you no longer being his, he was truly contemplating turning back.
“Look alive kids. We’re here,” his dad smiled, pulling his ikran to the front of the pack.
“Yay! Home!” Tuk cheered from her spot with Neytiri, earning a laugh from the woman.
She was quite excited to be home, too.
They swooped into the cave, perching the ikran on the stone ledge before dismounting, the entirety of the clan running towards them, crowding the family.
Shouts and cheers of excitement echoed throughout the cave, the cave happy to see their former Olo’eyktan had returned, hopefully ready for him, or his son, to resume the mantle.
Despite the thick crowd, Mo’at managed to make it to the front of the mantle, along with the new Olo’eyktan.
“Jakesully, oel ngati kameie,” Mo’at nodded, pointing her hand from herself to Jake.
“Mo’at, oel ngati kameie. Olo’eyktan, oel ngati kameie,” Jake did the same, turning to the Olo’eyktan as well.
Once the formalities were out the way, Mo’at smiled, enveloping her family in a large hug.
“Welcome home,” she greeted.
The entire family hugged her back, the children happy to see their grandmother again.
“Grandmother! You will never believe what we have seen! All of the sea animals and the plants! Oh, and the tulkun!” Tuk happily rambled, hanging onto her grandma a little longer as the rest of the family broke away.
“I am sure you will tell me all about it tonight. My, you have gotten big!” Mo’at assured, hugging her granddaughter tightly.
While Neteyam was happy that his family was fully reunited once again, he still found his eyes scouring the crowd, looking for a familiar face.
Your familiar face.
“She is in the healing tent,” Mo’at whispered, recognizing her grandson’s distress.
He smiled, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before running off through the crowd, down the familiar path that always led him to you.
Visions of the day he left flashed through his head, reminding him what he was coming back to.
“Are you sure you have to go?” you tearfully asked, cupping his face in your hand.
“I must. My family will put everyone in the clan in danger if we stay,” he sighed, pulling you in closer by your waist, resting his forehead on yours.
“Well if you must,” you sniffled, quickly wiping a tear from your eye. “Then I support you. I will wait for you, Neteyam. For as long as it takes.”
When he snapped himself out of it, he was already at your tent flap, the piece of cloth the only thing keeping you two apart.
He was about to grab it, but stopped mid-way, hesitating.
What if you had really found someone else to love?
“I will wait for you, Neteyam. For as long as it takes,” your words repeated in his head.
He sighed, steeling his nerves, before yanking open the tent flap, walking in.
“Tsahey! How many times have I told you, Ateyo! You have to be more careful when climbing trees. If you had fell any different, you would have cracked your skull open,” you scolded, smoothing a mushroom salve over a large cut on a young boy’s forehead.
You back was turned, and you didn’t hear the flap sound over the boy’s complaints.
“Hitxoa, (y/n). I tried to be extra careful this time! But a syaksyuk came out of no where and shook the branch!” Ateyo whined, wincing at the sting of the paste.
The air caught in Neteyam’s throat as he got a good look at you, his eyes raking up and down your body.
You had grown so much.
Your hair had gotten longer, your chest had gotten larger, and your hips had gotten slightly bigger, with a slightly deeper curve to them.
It was making something stir in his stomach.
The feeling reminded him of that word he had caught his dad calling his mom once. The one that Neytiri hissed at him for when she realized the children were around.
What was it?
Sexy.
When you stopped rubbing the salve on him, the little boy opened his eyes, only for them to land on the tall, warrior behind you, who gave him a polite wave.
The boy gasped in shock, his eyes growing wide with awe.
He knew exactly who he was, every Omaticayan boy did. 
Neteyam the Warrior, brother to Lo’ak the Warrior. 
Stories of the brothers’ adventures were known throughout the clan. And they practically became legends to the children. 
You cocked a brow, slowly turning around. 
“What are you-.” Your breath hitched when your eyes met that of the warrior before you, his smile growing at the sight of your face.
You had gotten more beautiful, too.
You slowly stood up, looking the boy...no, man, up and down, a dark shade of blue growing on your cheeks.
He had gotten incredibly tall, and beefier, too. 
And with new muscle, came new scars, which now littered his body, in a good way.
In an attractive way.
You would enjoy hearing stories about them as you traced them later tonight.
“Oel ngati kameie, my love,” he smirked, doing the gesture along with it, deeply hoping those words were still true.
The biggest smile you had smiled in four years found their way to your lips as you broke into a run, tackling the poor man in a bear hug.
“My Neteyam! You have returned!” you exclaimed out of pure happiness, throwing your arms around his neck and going on your tippy-toes to kiss him on the lips.
You were no longer tall enough to kiss him normally.
He laughed into it, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him ( if that was even possible ).
After your display of affection, he felt foolish to think you would ever mate with someone other than him.
As the two of you broke apart, he looked into your beautiful, honey eyes, and smiled as saw they held so much love behind them.
You were looking at him as if he hung the stars right before you.
And he recognized this because this was the very same look he would give you.
When you weren’t looking, of course.
“Look how beautiful you have grown. You must be the most sought woman in the clan,” he smirked, sensually tucking a stray braid behind your ear.
You smirked right back, bringing your hands to rest on his chest.
“Ah, yes. It has come to that,” you playfully sighed, leaning in closer so your mouth lay just outside his ear, bringing your voice down to a whisper.
“But I have saved myself for you.”
Neteyam quietly growled, the stir in his stomach increasing tenfold as he thought of what would happen if he took you to Utral Aymokriyä tonight.
“As have I,” he huskily whispered back, giving your neck a quick peck.
His tone made you shudder, suddenly begging for eclipse to come so you two could sneak off.
“GROSS!” the little, forgotten boy exclaimed from the corner, holding his stomach as if he were about to throw up.
“Disgusting! You’re a warrior! You’re not supposed to like this lovey-dovey stuff!” he groaned, pointing to his mouth and gagging.
“Get out of here!” you scolded, turning around and placing your hands on your hips.
But not before Neteyam pulled you into him, your back resting on his strong chest.
“Yeah. Before I start kissing her again,” Neteyam teased, placing a long, dramatic kiss on your cheek, making you giggle.
“GROSSSSS!” the boy loudly groaned in agony, covering his eyes as he ran out the tent.
The two of you laughed at the boy’s antics before you turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck once more.
You both stayed in comfortable silence, having a silent conversation as you stared into each others eyes, taking in every detail and committing it to memory.
Just in case you two would have to separate again.
“You know,” you started, smirking as one of your hands find it’s way to Neteyam’s hair, rubbing it in the way you remembered he liked.
“I was being serious before. I have saved myself.”
You gave a light tug to some of his hair, and the man let out a strained groan, using every ounce of his strength to keep him from closing his eyes in pleasure.
You massaged his head so well.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hold you again,” he sighed, tightening his grip around your waist.
You smiled, inching your face closer to his, to the point where your lips were a hair away.
“Then what are we still waiting for?” you purred.
That was his tipping point.
With a growl, he enveloped your lips in a passionate kiss, and you kissed him back with just as much fervor.
Hooking his hands under your thighs, he picked you up, carrying bridal style as he took you the back way out the tent.
“Neteyam!” you squealed, pulling out the kiss and tightening your grip around your neck, keeping yourself from falling.
“Quiet, my love. Or people will hear us,” he smirked, placing a quick kiss on your lips before running the both of you out the back entrance of the Stronghold.
Sure, you were serious about what you said. But past Neteyam would’ve never been bold enough to actually go through with it.
He had changed in these four years. He had grown confidence.
It was making something stir in you, even more so as you knew your destination would be Utral Aymokriyä.
This is going to be fun.
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maitanii · 4 months
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IT WASN'T LOVE. He wasn't in love. Ran Haitani, definitely, wasn't in love.
However, as his finger scrolled through the phone screen each night, attempting to delete some blurry photos where only the outline of a smile was discernible, laziness conveniently took hold, allowing those files to continue occupying space on the phone.
On closer inspection, you're not that pretty. He wouldn't even say you're pretty, just an ordinary girl. Those five freckles scattered across your cheeks aren't that beautiful, even though they reminded him of the constellations Rindou always points out when they travel to the countryside. The poorly painted nails, slightly bitten at the corners, are just another sign that you're a mess, although he always brings a nail file for you to use. And the small chip in your front teeth? Nothing out of the ordinary, but he was with you when the fall happened (and watched you cry yourself to sleep while holding you on the couch).
"Are you listening to me?"
"Loud and clear."
"Right." Returning to spear the fork into the salad, you made sure not to pick any tomatoes. Those were left for Ran. "When is the fight?"
"Tomorrow." Reaching for his cutlery, he began to stab at his food. "Are you worried?" he commented before starting to chew.
"Don't talk with food in your mouth, pig." Placing your face in your hands, you turned your head to look out the window.
"Okay."
The red lights from the opposite building reflected on your forehead. In just a minute, Ran had noticed you had gotten new highlights in your hair. He also spotted the small pimple that had popped up near your chin and the poorly applied concealer on it. The tension in your shoulders. And that you didn't want to look him in the eyes.
"What time is the fight tomorrow?" you asked as Ran's slender fingers played with the engraving on the fork.
Ask me not to go.
"At seven. But South always asks us to arrive earlier. Should we order dessert?"
Ask me not to go.
"Okay."
Come on, ask me not to go.
Taking his gaze away from some point on your face, he lowered his head. The ambient music in the restaurant slipped into the silence of the conversation. How could he fall in love with someone who worried about him getting hurt in a fight? Trust was the foundation of any relationship, right? Damn it.
The Mont Blanc and the cheesecake didn't last long on the table. In a fork battle, the desserts soon disappeared. Rindou had always suffered the consequences of stealing bites from his food, so why had he fought with you to accept eating the last piece of Mont Blanc?
"I have exams soon, and I'd like to get up early. Can you take me home?"
"Sure." Smiling, Ran thanked the waiter who cleared their plates (the first time he didn't thank him, you reproached him for it). "But you have to let me pay."
"No."
"Then I guess you'll have to walk home alone."
"No problem."
He sighed. Fighting was pointless. In all the years since your friendship began, you had never let him pay an entire bill. Not even when your ex-boyfriend left you and gave you several jars of ice cream could you avoid leaving some coins on a piece of furniture at his house. Or when he gave you that bouquet of flowers on Valentine's Day, and you left two boxes of chocolates on the backseat of the car.
The way back home was quiet. To no one's surprise, you chose the music, and he chose the topic of conversation. The guys from your economics class. The new mascara that didn't leave many clumps. The scholarship you had applied for months ago. He was so engrossed that he got distracted and ended up driving through several streets, prolonging the journey. Well, what a silly mistake.
"Thanks for bringing me home. And thanks for today." Raising your thumbs, you drew a slight smile on your face. "I needed to get out for a while."
"I know, you took too long to respond to my messages."
"I always do that."
"Not to an invitation to have dinner at your favorite restaurant."
"You know me so well." Pinching his cheeks between your fingers, you watched as he squinted his eyes.
Closing the car door, Ran watched as you began to search for the keys to the gate in your bag. Taking out his phone, he checked the messages he had received during dinner. Two taps on the door prevented him from replying to the meme Rindou had sent him. Your perfume once again invaded the interior of the car.
"Ran." The concern in your voice made him immediately turn his head. "I know it's a lot to ask, but please try not to go to the fight tomorrow. You can come up with any excuse and come to my house. But please, don't go."
A smile began to slowly form on his face.
He wasn't in love. But when he got home and wrote a message to South saying he had a fever, he had done it with immense joy in his heart. And when he went to bed and looked at the photos he never deleted from his gallery, he would write again in his notes the places he wanted to take you. But he wasn't in love because what he felt was beyond any of that."
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yelenasfloppyhand · 26 days
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Spencer Reid x gn!reader
Summary: Spencer is feeling insecure about his glasses, good thing you are there to help him see his beauty.
Warnings: none?
You glance up, concerned, as you see your boyfriend squinting at the television in front of him. His face looks scrunched up uncomfortably as he tries to read the subtitles that he insists on having on every time he forces you to watch a documentary with him, mainly because he talks over the documentary so often that it would be practically impossible to follow without them. This is a bit unusual, which makes you wonder: what is bothering him? "Why're you squinting?"
He breaks his gaze from the screen and looks at you with a puzzled expression, the kind of look that a child would give a parent after receiving a scolding for misbehaving. "Umm... could you repeat that I didn't hear you?" He asks sheepishly.
That was the moment it clicked. Whenever Spencer wasn't wearing his glasses or contacts, he often exclaimed that he couldn't hear without his glasses on. Most people didn't understand, considering glasses aided sight - not hearing. However, to you it made perfect sense. Spencer often relied on lipreading to prevent any miscommunication. He feared it would lead to an accidental offence. "You aren't wearing your glasses" it came off as more of a soft accusation than an observation.
A delicate pout graces his plump lips as he glances bashfully at you before sighing. "They make me look ugly..." His tone is dejectful as he breaks eyecontact to stare at the soft tartan blanket on his lap.
You feel your eyes widen as a frown pulls at your lips, there are many adjectives you could use to describe Spencer: awkward, intelligent, sweet, loving, beautiful, thoughtful... never in a million years would the word ugly even cross your mind. He was truly gorgeous, his eyes were a light brown with flecks of gold near his pupils, his nose was button like with a small bump on the bridge, his lips were plump and pink, he had alluring crinkles at the corners of his eyes each time he smiled (which was frequently around you), his hair oh his silky hair that he often begged you to play with in order to help him fall asleep, it was soft and a light shade of brown that shined bronze in the sunlight. You could use a multitude of synonyms to describe how beautiful he is but never would you describe him as ugly.
"Spencer Walter Reid, I'm appalled! How dare you call yourself ugly?" Your anger simmers as you stare at him with a pointed look, utterly disgusted with his self-deprecation. "You're not ugly," you add, softening slightly, "And I think your glasses make you even hotter." His cheeks flush with color and he looks away, clearly embarrassed.
"If you'd let me, I'd kiss each and every part of your beautiful body, I love the small freckle on your forehead, and your toothy grin, I love the way your glasses sit on you're gorgeous nose" you continue, you've been with him since you were both in your 20s and despite him now being 30 he still looked just as beautiful as ever.
"My confidence always takes a hit with my glasses on. The frames make me feel like an even bigger nerd than usual." His gorgeous gold eyes usually wore contact lenses, a solution to his glasses related insecurity. But recently, he developed a slight allergy to the contact lens solution he uses meaning he was now forced to wear his glasses. The whole situation leaves him feeling like more of a wounded puppy.
You could cry at his self deprication. You wished you could see him the way you see him. You immediately have a great idea. You stand from your spot next to him on the couch before rushing away, leaving him confused and slightly curious.
You return wearing his glasses, admittedly you can't see much considering how strong his prescription is, it distorts your vision an uncomfortable amount. But you watch as his expression changed to utter disorientation as he trys to understand what you're doing. "Do you think I look ugly?"
You watch as he is taken aback by your question, he cannot fathom ever finding you anything other than breathtaking. His eyebrows furrow as he answers quickly. "No, you're absolutely breathtaking as always." You can't help the grin that pulls at your lips at his compliment.
"So you don't think these glasses make me ugly, don't they change how I look? Do they make me unappealing to gaze at?" You ask confidently, praying to whoever is listening that you can help him see himself in a more positive light.
"How can I ever see you as anything other than beautiful?" He asks with confusion. He frowns before continuing. "Nothing could ever change how I view you, you're the sun in my solar system." You can feel yourself metaphorically melt at his words, he was always sweet with his complments, its what made you fall for him.
"You've just proved my point pretty boy." You smile before walking over to him and placing his glasses on his face, you can see the slight relief in his eyes when his vision focuses. "Hey." You grin and wave slightly at him. "There's my love. I promise you that just because you wear glasses doesn't mean you're ugly, you aren't ugly and you know why?" You watch with amusement and adoration as his eye brows furrow in confusion as he waits for you to answer your own question. "Because despite your gorgeous face, it's your heart I feel for, and as long as you're heart stays just as sweet and lovable as always I will always find you beautiful."
You realise how clichet and corny it sounds the second the words leave your mouth but you can't help but find the truth in them. He is gorgeous and not even his glasses could change his beauty. After all his nickname was 'pretty boy' for a reason.
Note: I'm so sorry if this was badly written it's like midnight and I'm sleepy, this was inspired when I remembered that mgg wore glasses as Spencer in season 2 because he developed an allergy to his contact lens solution (thank god that happened if not we would've never been blessed with glasses reid). Also you can request stories using the request box in my bio :)
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tlouwhore · 3 months
Text
my heart is thrilled by the still of your hand, prt.2 — farmhouse e.w.
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notes: basically just smut, 18+, pet names (mama, baby,  babe, love), eating out, switch!ellie, soft, praise, strap on, slow/romantic sex, farmhouse!ellie who is so in love with you, very loosely inspired by no plan by hozier, ive never written smut so...also guys i need to lock in for finals but all i can think about it having sex with ellie
part 1
ellies tattooed hand snakes to find a spot on your hip, squeezing lightly against it prompting a soft hitch to your breath giving her ample opportunity to slip her tongue delicately into your warm mouth. finding comfort in your sweet breath as the kiss continued in a slow yet sloppy manner.
“els…i need you” your lips mere inches from hers, foreheads pressed against each other. breath tangled and exchanged in the hastily darkening air as she gazes at you with a loving hunger in her eyes, familiar and beautiful. 
“i know, babe” she whispered as if scared that if she spoke too loud you would disappear from her desperate grasp, her hand quickly seeking to tangle back into yours. her palms slightly sweaty as she now  gently drags you into the house. opting for the couch merely feet from the door as you lightly push her onto it and crawl into her lap quickly finding your lips to hers like magnets. as the kiss deepens and morphs you can feel her hasten quickly signaling she wants exactly what you do, it's your turn to chuckle at her quickened hunger as you feel her shift uncomfortably knowing her ever-growing wet spot threatens to seep through her boxers.  you tug lightly at the hem of her loose shirt, lightly brushing the pads of your fingers over her stomach, familiar and soft despite it all. she hesitantly breaks the kiss to drag her shirt off, her breasts exposed upon removal. every time you see them your gaze falls to them in admiration as if the mona lisa is engraved into her, taking her in as if she were to dissolve if you blinked. 
admiring the beauty of her soft and supple breasts, slowly grazing your tongue over her erect nipple cascading the effects of a euphonious whimper to escape her lips; the pure love felt to her in that moment unmatched, all your worries washed away as your priorities were on her breasts. her pleasure. her body. her freckled chest adored with scars. her. 
she whines your name desperately as she looks to find an anchor on your body. showing love to her exposed upper body, your lips laying claim to her sun damaged shoulders and collar. your hands slowly dragging across her exposed arms, over her scars and chemical burn, planting an individual kiss to each nail before attending to her lower body. 
loosely slipping onto a seated ground position, the rough carpet welcoming your planted knees as you spread her legs. instantly leaving her to fumble with her button to unclasp it as you offer aid in removing her remaining clothes until her body is displayed to you. 
"can i?" a soft smile tugs at your lips watching her admiration for your beauty grow
"if you take off something first" she laughs slightly when saying it but quickly flicks her full attention to your unclothed chest, your bra the only clinging item to your upper body. 
"better?" your smile illuminates your features, you've never looked more beautiful to her than when you smile. each moment that passes she loves you more than the world, looking to you as a beacon in the darkness.
"yes." as her words left her mouth in her sweetened tone soaked with love you began to trail your way up her thighs with your lips. leaving gentle whispers of love against her skin. her throat emanating your name in whispers like a prayer as you approach her leaking pussy, her clit puffy with arousal as she seeks friction from the air. 
gently licking against her clit as her desperate attempt to stifle a moan fails, her body releasing a guttural sound as you continue to work slowly and starved. her saccharine slick leaking onto your face, coating your soft tongue and blushed skin. you push her leg further up, her knees nearing her chest as you continue to deepen your devotion. she's needy and whining under your tender lips and tongue, continuing to make contact with her dripping cunt. a wet spot forming largely on the familiar couch cushion below, her eyes hooded in lust. desperately trying to keep her eyes locked to your gaze and delicate worship of the flattening of your tongue, engulfing her  clit with the texture drag it before laying tapered circles to it. her whimpers and moans fast and needy, head dazed in pleasure. slowly dragging your finger to meet her clenching hole, dipping a single finger gently in. she coils forward slightly before thrashing back to the couch, muttering swears like a mantra that is half lost by her groans. 
"fuck baby, just like that" is all she can push past her lips, mouth agape as her breath floods out in tangent with her quickening heart. her voice is diluted in pleasure and as messy as her cunt. slowly implementing an additional finger as she leaks out onto your hand causing another fit of swears, a new wave of pleasure seizing through her body. slowly dragging your fingers in and out in tandem with your heatened breath against her delicate clit, your tongue searching the terrain. her high quickly approaching as you feel her tense around you, her reactions more visceral as you help her come undone. a clench around your fingers as you continue gently through her high, her hands gripping at whatever she can grasp stars falling into her eyes. her gaze meeting your face as you remove your fingers from her needy cunt, admiring the soft moons gentle touch to you coated in her slick. taking your wet fingers and softly dipping them into your mouth, releasing the nectar into your mouth like a sacred sip of the lord's wine. 
"m'god mama...." her voice hushed in a sacred high "so fucking beautiful, let me take care of you please" eyes glinting in a desire of her deepest devotions. a smile painting your moist face as you reply 
"please," is the only hushed praise that can exit your lips as you stand, her hands seeking a perfect opportunity to drag your bottoms down your plush thighs. kicking them off as they hit your feet to aid her as she stands to join you, unclasping the metal hook on the back of your bra laying kisses down your exposed shoulders and neck. 
"stay here for me" her breath hits your warm skin
"anything" her nude form trailing out of the room momentarily, the moon and stars kissing her body. her return was swift, her silicone cock hanging from her shifting hips as you greedily walked to meet her.
"needy, aren't you?" she playfully smiles meeting your tender lips in a slow kiss, pushing your body back to the couch.
"lay down for me, baby" her lips still mere inches from yours, refusing to let her touch leave you for too long. you abide by her devout comment. knees slightly bent as you lay supine, dripping cunt displayed like a portrait in the lourve. she kneels against the unclothed altar of your hips, brushing the silicone tip against you looking to you for permission. 
"i'm ready, els" you reach your hand to find hers, quickly finding her hand laced in yours gently placing your enclosed hands to the couch cushion beside your head. her free hand delicately aligning with your needy body, slowly pushing in an inch as she searches your beautiful face for any sign of pain. you meet her with a squeeze to her hand and a nod, encouraging her to push her length deeper. she cautiously bottoms out in you as you meet her with a moan.
"oh my god..." is all that you can push out, her body still giving you time to adjust to her before lovingly fucking into your cunt, her eyes stuck to yours. she can't help but admire your flushed face, the pleasured details relaying across your ever so perfect form. 
"so good for me" soft praises leaving her lips as she continues to push into you, a religious message in the swift breath of her love. her free hand trailing your whole body, unable to soak you in enough before she meets her calloused fingers to your sensitive clit. the pads of her fingers laying claim to your needy bundle of nerves, slow circular swoops creating a perfect storm of pleasure. desperate whines escaping your lips, breathing hitching whenever you meet her deepened gaze. unable to peel her eyes from the warmth of your emanating face. her hands working as skillfully as her hips, pushing in deep and soft, hitting every part of your soft walls combining with the fervor of her diligent hands. 
"taking me so well, mama" painting landscapes on your puffed in pleasure clit, your body a beautiful art piece to her mere existence. eyes tracing the curvature of your body, groans escaping her lips as the base of the strap hits her clit. your sweet whispers of lust egging on her movement, unable to define the truth of her devouring love for you. you clench against her and release a rasping moan.
"m gonna cum, els" broken whispers interrupted by the sharp pleasure in your core.
"cum for me, baby. cum all over my dick for me" she rasps as her hips reaching deeper, your angelic form consuming her in entirety. your orgasm encroaching deeply, her eyes fixed to yours as they threaten to roll back in pleasure. 
"come on mama, you can do it" a creamy white accumulation of your slick coating the base of her silicone cock as she works you through your orgasm. 
"i've got you, just a little more" she coaxes as she slows, gently pulling herself from your tender cunt and unlacing your fingers from hers. a slight whimper erupting at the emptiness of contact. your eyes hooded with a tired love, a half smile sloppily draped on your lips admiration consuming your observations of her diligent hands pulling off the harness. 
"everything good, love?" 
"s'good" your smile growing slightly as you push yourself to sit up
"lets go get ourselves cleaned up, mama." she chuckles at your pleasured expression replacing her hand in yours, you instantly locking onto her. making your way to the bedroom, your body slightly leaned to hers. linked forms finding the dresser, shuffling through the cloth as she searches for a soft outfit for you. her hands fastidiously helping your silk body with the clothing, pulling the waistband up and adjusting your out of place hair. quickly trailing to the bathroom grabbing a wet cloth to wipe your face, a residue of her sweet slick lightly adorning your chin and lips. 
"els...what about the mess we made?"
"i'll worry about that, beautiful. I need to be with you now, the couch can wait." slowly slipping on a loose shirt and lightly pushing you by the small of your back to the bed, the soft duvet opening its arms for you. her body slowly following, pulling you flush to her as she leaves gentle kisses across your sleep-ridden face.
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magiccath · 4 months
Text
Mornings
tenth doctor x reader
Summary: In which you have a calming morning in with the Doctor
CW: a morning-after fic, so some NSFW content is implied, but no smut. Some disrobing later in the fic, but again no smut.
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The Doctor didn’t really sleep, he didn’t need to. Then he started dating you, and the thought of you going to bed away from him was unbearable. He had taken to falling asleep with you in his arms, safe and sound. You had no reason to complain, you’d take any chance for a cuddle.
Slowly, he stirred awake, his eyes gently fluttering open. He smiled brightly at the sight in front of him. In all of time and space, he couldn’t imagine a better way to wake up. 
You laid across from him, deep in sleep. The silken blue sheets rested slightly above your hip, leaning your bare legs covered from sight. His eyes traveled up your body, noting that sometime last night you had slipped one of his shirts on. He was torn between admiring you in his shirt and being upset that you had put anything on at all. He settled on the former. It made him smile - you, in one of his shirts. 
Your hair was sprawled across the pillow, and your face was resting peacefully. It was times like this that the Doctor allowed himself to marvel at you. This beautiful being who loved him. Of all the people in the universe, you had chosen him. 
You stirred slightly, pulling him out of his thoughts. Unconsciously you nuzzled into the pillow, searching for comfort. The Doctor smiled and brushed a hair away from your face. Not wanting to remove his hand from your face, he stroked your cheek gently. Without even thinking, he traced the words of a long-lost language into your skin. His thumbs brushed phrases like ‘I love you’ and ‘my love’ onto your skin in soft, concentric circles.
Desperate for you, he moved his face closer to yours, planting slow and delicate kisses on every inch of your skin. The crook of your neck, the rise of your chin, the arch of your cheekbone, the tip of your nose, the smooth skin of your forehead - anywhere he could reach.
The feather light brush of his lips slowly roused you from your sleep, your eyes eventually opening. The Doctor smiled brightly at you, pulling back to look at you. You were absolutely stunning to him in every single way.
“Good morning.” 
You grunted and turned your head back into the pillow in response, still not fully awake. The Doctor chuckled and pulled you into him, his arms wrapping firmly around your waist. You slung a leg over his hips in response, comfortably draping yourself over the Time Lord. Happily, you nuzzled your nose into his neck. You breathed in his familiar scent, hints of cinnamon and freshly brewed tea calming your senses. You could stay like this forever, drifting in and out of consciousness in his arms.
His hands traveled up your - his - shirt, dancing his slender fingers across the bare skin of your back. His touch was warm and comforting, more than enough to urge you back to sleep. However, the Doctor had other ideas. 
His lips fluttered around your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. 
“Coffee?” he whispered, his husky voice sending tremors down your body. 
Begrudgingly, you lifted your head upwards to look at him. He was so handsome. Up close, you could map every single one of his thousands of freckles. Without thinking much about it, you let your fingers trace the lines between them, connecting the soft spots scattered across his nose and cheeks like constellations.
His hair was messy from sleep, but then again, it was always messy. The Doctor had a nasty habit of manhandling his hair at all hours of the day. As a result, the strands remained constantly tussled and spiky.
“Yes, please,” you uttered, hardly above a whisper. It took everything in you not to get lost in his eyes. Deep pools of chocolate brown that held hundreds of years of wisdom. He didn’t know it, but his eyes could be so expressive. You had spent long enough with him that they could give away his feelings in an instant, even if the rest of his face remained impassive. 
The Doctor nodded and rotated you, freeing himself from your grip. You flopped onto your back, admiring him from the comfort of the mattress. You loved looking at him as he moved about, only vaguely aware of your admiring gaze.
He grabbed his PJ bottoms from the floor and slipped into them, doing a little hop to get them up over his hips. 
You rubbed your eyes and started to get up to follow. It was hard to pull yourself out of the warm embrace of your bed, but you slowly managed to move. You slipped your body off the side of the bed and started to walk. Your legs, still sore from the night before, wobbled underneath you. 
The Doctor laughed, admiring his own work with a smirk. If your legs were still unsteady hours later, then he had done somthng right. 
“Shut up,” you snapped, shifting your weight on your shaking legs. The Doctor wasted no time picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. He couldn’t help but pride himself in the fact that your legs were still wobbling. It was an extremely rare occurrence, but one of the many indicators that you had enjoyed yourself as much as he had. 
“Oi!” you gasped, slapping his back. “I’m perfectly capable of walking!”
He only smiled in response, happily carrying you down the hall and towards the TARDIS kitchen. Eventually, you gave up and went limp. You didn’t get a say in this. 
The Doctor made his way through the corridors of the ship proudly. Still carrying you, he entered the kitchen. It was a messy mix of human and alien, with all kinds of foods and appliances stored in random places in the room.
Gently, he set you down on the counter next to the coffee pot. There was a normal, human one, for you. Next to it, the Doctor had is own, less human, ways of making coffee. You said it tasted like space dirt, so he never made it for you. 
You crossed your arms and glared at him as he mulled about, preparing your coffee. Silently, he scooped the coffee grounds into the machine, pressing the ‘on’ button.
“You suck,” you pouted. He smiled over his shoulder, knowing that you didn’t mean it. 
While the coffee brewed, he occupied himself with you. Positioning himself between your knees, he planted more kisses across your face. Now that he wasn’t worried about waking you up, his kisses were firmer. His lips danced across the planes of your face, peppering loving kisses across it.
“You love me,” he whispered in your ear, nibbling on the soft spot behind it. 
You couldn’t help but mewl into his touch, pulling him closer to you. The Doctor smirked against the base of your neck, biting down softly. He was right, you did love him. More than you had ever loved anyone in your life.
He trailed kisses back up your neck, hovering over your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut, leaning in to close the gap between your mouths. Ever the tease, he pulled away from you. You groaned loudly as he backed away from you, going back to the coffee pot. 
You glared at his toned back as he prepped you a cup of coffee. He made it exactly the way you liked it. You shouldn’t have been surprised he knew you so well, but you always were. It was the small things that reminded you how much the Doctor loved you. A perfect cup of coffee in the morning, your favorite dinner after a long day, a comforting hand slipped into yours on adventures, those kinds of things.
He brought you the steaming mug with a kiss, letting his lips linger for a few moments. You sighed into it, more than happy to revive the affection and the beverage. Pulling away from you, the Doctor planted multiple chaste kisses on your lips, not wanting to sever the connection.
As he kissed you, he guided your arms over his shoulders, your hands clutching your warm coffee against the base of his neck. You rested your head tiredly against his shoulder, the coolness of his bare skin radiating against your cheek. He then urged your legs around his middle, placing his hands on the base of your thighs to support your weight. 
Firmly secured to his front, the Doctor sauntered off back down the corridors of the ship. Without any suggestion as to where you were going, you closed your eyes and allowed the Doctor to carry you around.
He made his way to the bathroom, setting you back down on the counter next to the sink before milling about the room. He shut the door and turned the shower on, allowing it to heat up.
You drank your coffee happily as he slipped his PJ bottoms off, his underwear following. Shamelessly, you ogled at his bum. 
You hid your wandering eyes behind the rim of your coffee cup. Still, the Doctor raised his eyebrows at you, having caught you staring. You blushed and turned away from him. You knew you were allowed to look, but it was still a little embarrassing getting caught. The Doctor giggled and kissed your cheek tenderly. 
His fingers then made quick haste of the shirt you had thrown on last night, sliding it up and over your shoulders. The cold air of the bathroom chilled your exposed skin, sending goose pimples across your bare chest.
You took another drink of coffee if only to hide the scarlet flush that dominated your face. So this is how your morning was going to go?
The Doctor’s hands then slid your underwear down your legs, the action tantalizingly slow. You watched him with wide eyes, your coffee still clutched tightly in your hands.
Once you were disrobed, the Doctor stepped away from you. His eyes traveled down your body as they often did, admiring your entire form. He sucked in a sharp breath, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Then, without a word, he turned away from you and slipped into the shower.
You scoffed, he hadn’t even invited you in. Stubbornly, you remained on the counter. You sipped your coffee silently, awaiting an invitation to join the Doctor.
After a few moments, the Doctor popped his head out of the shower, his eyebrows knitted together.
“Well, get in here,” He gestured with his head, urging you into the shower. 
You giggled and downed the rest of your coffee before slipping down from the counter, eagerly making your way to him. Once you were within reach, the Doctor snagged your arm and dragged you in after him with a mischievous smirk.
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quartzalynlove · 5 months
Text
Dating Johnny Cage Would Include
Pairing: Johnny Cage (mk1) x reader
Summary: hcs about dating our favorite movie star
Warnings: none
A/N: I've got so many Johnny ideas running around this head
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Alright let's cut to the chase
This man's love language is gift giving
Jewelry, clothing, shoes he's buying it all for you
You know in Iron Man 3 when Tony bought the giant Christmas bunny for Pepper? Yeah expect something like that from time to time
But he's also very sentimental and will buy you things he knows you love/will make you happy
That book you've been talking about reading all year? He'll surprise you with it on a random Tuesday just to see you smile
And don't be a collector or something
You like mugs? Funko pops? Magic the Gathering?? He's the sole sponsor of your collection
His net worth may be in the millions but nothing he owns is worth more than pure joy on your face
Speaking of your face he's constantly trying to get you on the screen
Whether you think you have talent or not Johnny just wants your perfect being captured on film
"C'mon, doll, I found auditions for a lead in a rom-com. You'd steal hearts on the big screen!"
Lord knows you've already stolen his
The man's a huge kid and nerd at heart so if you're also a movie buff he'll be on cloud nine
He hasn't had many people to talk to about the magic of entertainment since his mom when he was younger
The two of you would lose track of time talking about the good, the bad, and the cheesy of movie history
This also means he will talk and flirt with you almost exclusively in movie quotes
And if at any point you start thinking they're cheesy he'll switch it up with an expression bc he knows they always make you laugh
While he is silly, nerdy, and impulsive Johnny also values quality time with you
He wouldn't trade his job for anything in the world but sometimes it's a lot
Sometimes he just needs a movie night you
Nothing but the two of you cuddled on the couch, a bottle of wine, and the entire Star Wars saga
He could never thank you enough for supporting him and in turn he fully supports you in all of your passions
Imposter syndrome and insecurity are not allowed in the house
For every flaw you see in your work he will list 10 things he loves about it
"I know it's hard not to feel like this, but even when you can't believe in yourself, I'll always be your cheerleader."
Where's his favorite place to kiss you? Where isn't
It all depends on which part of you looks most kissable at any given moment
He'll kiss your lips, cheek, forehead. He'll even kiss your stomach totally unprompted.
Got freckles or beauty spots? He's abt to become a problem
In his eyes, you're walking cinema that he can touch, taste, and love. He wouldn't miss a second of you.
Bottom line: Johnny's happiness in life is bringing joy to the world and you're no exception
The smiles of millions of his fans at Cage Con is only equal to one of yours
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