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void-botanist · 2 months

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Rose's Kiss Week Day 5: Lonely

OCs: Marcus Asalun (aka Anchesh Pabat) and Gren Orech-Pabat

Words: 1335

Content warnings: mentions of family health issues

Notes: this takes place six months after Anchesh married his last spouse, human himbo Gren.

At the other end of the sofa, Gren sighed for the tenth time in as many minutes. He was staring off at the other end of the room, chin propped up in one big hand, and more than likely didn’t even realize he sounded so despondent.

“How are you doing?” Anchesh asked.

“I’m fine. It’s just lonely without Yera.”

Probably it was best not to talk too much about Yera, because Gren would only get sadder if he started thinking about why Yera was out of town and how stressed she must be. Instead Anchesh put aside his knitting.

“I’m probably not as good at cuddling as Yera,” he said, moving to the cushion next to Gren, “but I’m here.”

Gren instantly pivoted and deflated into his lap, settling one cheek against his thigh and a hand over his knee. Today Gren’s hair was held in a bunlike fold with just an alligator clip, which Anchesh gently pulled out and set on the open cushion beside him. Then he combed his fingers back through Gren’s loose locks.

“I feel bad being lonely,” Gren murmured. “Her family needs her way more than I do, and I’m not alone here.”

“You’re her family too,” Anchesh answered in the same low tone. “And it doesn’t feel the same, not having her here.”

“Yeah.” Gren squeezed his leg a little, like he needed something to cling to.

Anchesh let Gren’s hair slip through his fingers over and over, massaging Gren’s scalp with each draw. Truth be told, he was worried about Yera too. She would be fine, unless her father got worse. He probably wouldn’t die, not yet, but the wondering and waiting felt unsettling enough for him at home—it must be awful for her. She was right to have the rest of them stay behind, except Hossan, because sooner or later they’d all be at loose ends and end up making her feel worse. But he still wished he could be there to hold her and talk to her, probably just the same as Gren.

“Maybe I don’t spend enough time with the rest of you,” Gren said suddenly. “Especially you.”

“I don’t mind how much time you spend with Yera and Hossan,” Anchesh answered.

“Yeah, but—” Gren rose from his lap, slowly enough that he didn’t pull his own hair in Anchesh’s hands. With his hair pushed behind his ears, he said, “I’m your husband too. And you don’t get tired of me like Pali does. I would leave you alone if you wanted me to but you’ve never told me to do that.”

Anchesh handed him the alligator clip. “I mean, I’m happy to spend more time with you. I just don’t want you to worry too much about it.”

Gren stared at nothing while he smoothed his hair back into a ponytail and clipped it there. Then he continued looking at some spot further down the sofa. “Anchesh...do you love me?”

It was a serious question that deserved a serious answer, but Anchesh was distracted by the plaintiveness of Gren’s voice. Had this been worrying him for the last six months?

Gren waited two seconds before adding, “Not like you love Yera or Umedes, but...”

He took Gren’s hand from his lap, and Gren looked up. “I do love you, Gren. You’re my friend. And my husband. And I’m glad I married you.”

“Really?” He didn’t seem entirely convinced.

“Really. I would have married you just for Yera and Hossan, but I like having you around too. You’re so bright, and lovely, and you always make sure we have what we need. And—”

“I think Pali does that.”

“Pali doesn’t keep everyone upbeat,” Anchesh said. “And she’s definitely not good at making sure we all rest, especially not herself. I think she’s gotten more sleep in the six months you’ve been here than she has since I married her.” Gren didn’t say anything, so he kept going. “We need someone who’s as thoughtful as you are. I need someone who is.” An almost melancholy gratitude welled up in him, and he tried to figure out how to put words to it. He wasn’t sure that Gren understood how much he made life more bearable. He wasn’t sure any of his spouses did, even though he didn’t know where he’d be without them. He loved all of them, and he needed all of them, and on some level he needed Gren, the only one who wasn’t at least a little wrapped up in politics and particularities, most of all. He put his other hand over Gren’s. “You mean a lot to me, Gren.”

“Do you think you could say that more? Not that, but like, ‘I love you’?”

When was the last time he’d told Gren he loved him? Even if he didn’t remember exactly, he had a feeling it had been days, or weeks. He’d decided without thinking about it that Gren didn’t really need to hear it, and he definitely didn’t need to hear it from him, arguably Gren’s least favorite spouse aside from Pali.

“Of course I can,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the back of Gren’s hand. “I’m sorry I haven’t said it very much.”

“It’s okay.” Gren put his other hand on top of Anchesh’s. Then he dropped his cheek against Anchesh’s shoulder.

“You know you can always tell me about your feelings,” Anchesh said.

“You don’t tell me about yours,” Gren said. “Except in bed, kinda.”

“Do you want to know about my feelings?”

“Yes!” Gren lifted his head and his face was all exasperation. “I know I don’t understand all of the things you do but I can understand how you feel!”

“Most of my feelings aren’t good.” And it would be cruel to burden someone like Gren with them.

“I still want to know,” Gren said. “I just want to be there for you, but I never know what’s going on with you.”

He’d given up on being there for Gren because it was obvious Gren didn’t need him, and he couldn’t keep track of the constantly shifting world he lived in with Yera and Hossan. “While Yera and Hossan are gone, maybe we should focus on that. Being there for each other.”

“I’d like that.” Gren’s eyes fell to their hands, and Anchesh thought he could see a blush rising in his cheeks. “I’d also like to kiss you more.”

“You can kiss me whenever you want.” He felt like he meant that the most of anything he’d said so far. Gren raised his head and went straight to softly touching his lips to Anchesh’s, his mustache tickling at Anchesh’s smooth-shaven upper lip.

On the next kiss his hand caressed the curve of Anchesh’s neck, and then he untangled his other hand from Anchesh’s and threw both arms around his neck, and when that apparently wasn’t enough he broke the kiss and fully straddled Anchesh’s thighs, hunching a little to reach his lips. Anchesh tilted his head further back in turn, feeling the pleasant tension of his horns pressing against the back of the sofa. Despite his position, Gren didn’t seem like he was trying to be seductive. He kissed Anchesh to savor him, like he was fresh water on Gren’s parched tongue, a tongue carefully exploring the contours of Anchesh’s. He was in no rush, and his skin was warm against Anchesh’s where they touched, Gren’s feet pressed against his knees, hands along the edge of his neckline, soft lips drinking him in. Anchesh let his hands run back over Gren’s thighs, his hips, to the bare, fuzzy skin at his midriff, and held on there.

When Gren pulled back at long last, his breath was edged with gasps, and so was Anchesh’s.

“I love you, Anchesh. I love you so much.”

Without a word, they pulled each other close, Anchesh wrapping his arms around Gren’s back as he leaned forward to press his cheek against Gren’s shoulder.

“I love you too, Gren.”

RKW taglist: @vacantgodling @jezifster @kk7-rbs

#spoiler alert: Yera's father does not die and is still alive when Anchesh returns from Rade years later #Yera comes back and is like “what have you two been up to hmm” and they're like “literally we just talked about our feelings”#as I was writing this I had this realization that Anchesh and Gren are givers but for two different reasons and this brings them conflict #Gren is just Like That. his whole identity is based around giving. it comes with the himbo archetype #but also he doesn't see any reason to be selfish. he is fundamentally a lover in the same way Tatya is #Anchesh on the other hand would still absolutely be a kind person if he wasn't traumatized but his giving is defined by that trauma #he gives because he doesn't want to be like his mother. doesn't want to make his internal life everyone else's problem #but he also has been taught by his mother that his only value is in what he can give and how he can support other people's needs (hers)#so he minimizes himself expertly. even when he shouldn't. because it's kinder not to be outwardly depressed - right?#because it's better not to be the burden that he knows he is - right?#I didn't intend for these scenes to trace Anchesh's descent into further depression #but like. it's kind of hard not to trace that line. it informs so much about his relationships and what he struggles with in them #anyway ren here's a feast lol #c: Marcus #c: Gren #wip: iecunem #rose brambles #rose's kiss week #rose writ

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borderlinegerard · 16 days

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i am the poisoned blood running through my tired veins

#my posts #personal #ITS SO MOT FUCKINH FAIR.#since he hates me now i dont care if he sees this and im pretty sure i fucking blocked the reat of them so idontfucking care #i hate all kf them so much and i dont fucking care how bad they hurt. i hurt too #for some INSANE REASON i was the only oke that had to apologize. why did they never apologize .#they know they hurt me. He knkws he hurt me.#when j say this they think im selfish. they can think what they want.#byt jts fucking crazy to act like im the only one tjat did anything wronh #i fucking admitted i was wrong. but it wasnt enough. notjing is ever enough for them!#if He ever tries to text me again im not responding. it was stupid of me to respons.#i wonder what he would say if he knew that i chose ro respond by chance of a coin flip #if it had landed on tails i wouldnt be making this post.#he cares more than i do. i dont have the luxury of caring.#he says “i led him on” but if he wanted skme speicodx kind of love fucking say skmething #i didnt knkw i was supposed to be differenr. if he had said that from the dtart i never would have agreed.#i didnt want to change for him.#he shouldve been different and he shouldve been better #i shouldve been too. but atleast i can admit ghat #what the fuck do you mean when you say you understand why j do what you do and uou get it so deeply #but then you still leave. does rhat mean you understand how much you hurt me that first time #it barely hurts anymore. but i cried four times last nigjt #now i dont feel it and now i dont care. youll never knkw little i can let myself care #ill distract myself until i forget all about you because i csnt let myself feel any of this #i dont care if im not changjng the way you begged me to. thats not an option rigjtnmow #im still fighting to stay alive. i dont know that you understand what thats like #you say you get it. i tjink you just say that #you loved me and i dont like that. i warned you and you dwatted my warning away #how is that all my fault.#how is all of this my fault.

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hanzajesthanza · 2 years

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i think the witcher makes me feel a profound sadness every night because it’s about all the things we love so much, or that we wish we had, but can never get back. the tragedy of the uncontrollable. the pain of loss.

ciri, despite her youth and innocence, loses her home and family and then she even her adoptive parents, and then she even loses her youth and her innocence, and is left with nothing but a grotesque scar symbolizing her trauma that doesn’t fit her childlike face and a hardened, green glare. and a sword, which is only a burden.

her parents, despite their incredible love for her, despite all of their agony and sacrifice to get her back, despite their own loss of their honor, their pride, their blood — they lose her too. they lose a child, the most tragic loss of all.

dandelion loses his best friend, clutching at his memories like the weeds growing by loch eskalott, trying to grasp the last twenty years to write his memoires.

milva hears her father’s words when she shoots, and his wheezing echoes in her mind.

regis lost himself, his entire life, all the people he ever loved and chased away.

cahir, despite his large family that loves him more than imperial orders, can never return to darn dyffrya, feel the sun on his face in vicovaro ever again.

angoulême wonders if her mother would have loved her had she not abandoned her, imagines what her hand patting her head in praise could have felt like.

and then geralt loses them. all of them, one by one.

and nimue, reading about it all, can never meet the figures of the legend she has obsessed over for years and years… she has her part to play in it, she can know their voices from dialogues and know their faces from etchings, but will never be able to tell them she loves them, tell them how much they mean to her.

even when they find what they’re searching for, even when they find what they’ve desired so — it’s only for a bittersweet moment. they shortly lose it again. everyone in this series is so intertwined together and caught in the same snare of destiny, and at the very same time so very alone and abandoned

#additional edit: this textpost brought to you by carolina in my mind #edit: and no one’s loss is the exact same! even though there are parallels — everyone suffers differently.#i used to feel guilty describing my experience as ‘loss’ because it wasn’t pertaining to death and that’s typically what loss insinuates #but you can lose so many things outside of death. and inside of death i don’t rule that out — but for me at least #the witcher books made me realize there are soooo sooo many ways to suffer and girl i’m not special lol #like all the protagonists experience this horrid sadness and tragedy and they KEEP LIVING and then they SUFFER EVEN MORE and then they DIE #and its like omg thats horrifying but like that didnt make the read any less enjoyable. in fact it made it more so #if they just were happy all the time there would be no story #so it made me realize that even if you are suffering or even if you have lost. life is still worth living #and also that rage and ‘bad’ emotions and selfishness and all these evil things that rise up from within a person are in fact natural #the creation of children of contempt seems almost unavoidable in the world we live in #but the point is that you cant stay a child of contempt. you have to humble yourself or someone else (BONHART) will humble you #dont hurt others or leo bonhart will snatch that beret with the rooster feather right off your ashen-blonde head #the witcher books #txt #analysis #kind of? analysis: a big theme in this is loss. lol kind of obvious not really groundbreaking you’ll have to forgive me #f: a hansa's a hansa #f: i want to see the sky #damn who would think a war saga would be a tragedy smh #obv /s #personal

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pepprs · 1 year

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beaver gnawing on wood noises

#purrs #delete later #this is gonna be a bad / hard post and i’ll have to delete it. like it feels like in making it im invoking cosmic forces to show me karma or #idk like being an ingrate or whatever. but sometimes i find myself on social media rabbitholes looking at instagram pages of.. women who #like really genuinely appear to be good moms to their kids. and love them for who they are and don’t try to make them anything different.#and who celebrate their quirks and stuff. and even share interests with them at the bare minimum. and it just makes me want to sob. like the #knot in my throat. i shouldn’t do it bc i just hurt myself but it’s like. im so lucky i have a mom and that she provides for me. and i know #there are valid reasons for that being all she can do. but also why can’t she… idk.why can’t she ummm love me. or celebrate me. or find #magic in me. or at the very least accept my humanness and be open to me like giving her feedback on stuff. even tonight at this panel this o #one woman was like yeah my two daughters call me on stuff and im like you’re right. if i called my mom on stuff (and i do) she would give me #the silent treatment (and she has) or eviscerate me (and she has). and people in my work life and on here call me endearing and say all #these things. but it’s like none of it can fill up the absolute aching pulsing void that is… my mom. my mom!!!!! is just a person i live #with anr resent most of the time. who has hurt me so badly. and i could have had a mom who like. let me sing and didn’t mock me for it.#and who came in and said goodnight to me and my sister instead of leaving us to o ur own devices because we’re twins and we had each other.#and 14 years ago today was the day that fully cemented in that she could not be that kind of mom and would never be. and i know she tried so #hard and i know she has been hurt and is still hurting. but i just want to scream. like everyone deserves a mom who loves them for who they #are and shit. and how fucking unfair is it that.. like it sounds so selfish and entitled. b it how fucking unfair is it that i got a mom who #im afraid of and then there are people like fucking… m*lissa err*co and sh*ron wh*atley (those are just the famous ones) who by all #appearances seem to be like.. not only loving but open. seeing their children as human and magic all at once. instead of a war prize and a #symbol of their own hardships or whatever. like it’s just so fucking unfair. i hate that this is the way things are for me and that it will #never change and that if it ever does i have to be the one to change it or i have to heal from it and let go of it. like FUCK that! i want #love from my mom! FUCK the fact that she can’t give it to me!!! she has to!!!!!! but she won’t. idk. delete post <3 #like so genuinely i should not be even typing these words bc god is gonna smite me now lol. but my heart is howling #and the shitty thing is i don’t think i’ll be able to be that kind of mom if i ever become one bc of how badly all of this has hurt me. and #bc of all that i don’t even think i want to become a mom anymore bc i don’t want to be the reason a child feels this way or grows up to.

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franeridan · 7 months

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I find it funny how in op canon the one that gets called mean the most out of the strawhats is zoro when actually he's one of the kindest out of the whole crew

#he's like #fourth?#on the kindest to meanest scale #kinder than him there's only chopper brook and jimbe the way i see it #he's kinder than even luffy is because luffy is accidentally kind while zoro is purposefully so #luffy will do and say some real bastard things if the actions don't bring him some form of immediate reward #be it emotional or material #zoro on the other hand has more than once looked out for someone he didn't care about despite obviously preferring to just leave #hyori obviously the most recent case #luffy's still fifth on the scale for me tho since his selfishness brings him to kindness more often than not #last one is sanj #dude's RUDE #i think in terms of who's willing to help who and when he's probably on the same level as zoro #but every other word out of his mouth is an insult of some kind so he gets points detracted for his rude child behaviour #probably the difference between being raised by the baratie cooks vs the shimotsuki dojo lbr

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xamassed · 2 years

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⟬ meme / @zorkaya ⟭

For Mammon.

Pro: Passionate, loving, relentless, adaptive. A gorgeous voice and a hot body. The look you give is filled with such devotion, it makes me weak in the knees sometimes.

Con: May not speak of what he wants and prioritizes the other party (me) too much when it's supposed to be a 50/50 exchange.

He adored the praise, of course, but it was the downside that had his face turning an darker, deeper shade of red. Never, in his many years, had someone considered his selflessness in the bedroom a negative trait.

Then again, he wasn’t sure that his willingness to give and give and give was truly selfless. Even when wrapped around around his love, skin against skin and heart singing, he was greedy. He wanted their kisses, their moans, those pathetic little whimpers and every slight twitch. He wanted it all, and he wanted it to be his doing.

“Most people don’t wanna make it fair. . .” He shrugged, but there was no making himself look nonchalant when his was do deeply flushed. “But it’s you, so I guess gettin’ is just as good as givin’. J—Just don’t expect me t’tell ya what I want right away. It ain’t easy admittin’ that stuff.”

Because aside from the want to take, there was also the fact that Zarina was special. Voicing his feelings and desires around her was significantly harder around her than it was a total stranger.

#suggestive cw #zorkaya #「 ( mammon ; ic ) 」#「 v. ready to face THE mammon? ( mammon ; obey me ) 」#「 r. we will live in a paradise of silver and gold ( mammon ; zarina ) 」#( honestly i see any partner he had before her not caring )#( if he wanted to give more than he got they were probably all over it )#( plus he loves her so it's harder and he doesn't want to be his usual selfish with her )#( still selfish but just a different kind )#( he's so hard to explain khjfsjdhfsdf )

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kakitysax · 2 years

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Pro-gamer autism move where I look and hope for the best in people while also anticipating and preparing for the worst of them.

“Speak softly and carry a big stick” but with social interaction.

#I don’t associate morality with clout or kindness with goodness #so I’m not bragging when I say that most of my issues come from just. genuinely having more empathy than most of my peers.#don’t get me wrong if anything I was morally worse than some of them #I’ve been a selfish bitch and disregarded the effects of my actions on others so fucking much growing up #but deep down I’m still six years old and kneeling beside the other kids on my street #watching in horror and confusion as they fried ants on the sidewalk #wondering what it was that made them do it #wondering what made me different in their minds from the ant #wondering what it would take for it to be okay and cool and fun to kill me slowly like that #karkles stop #karkles irl

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kavehater · 7 days

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I honestly wish people cared more about depression and other issues rather than saying they care but scrutinise a person so horribly when they show symptoms associated with said condition 🧎‍♀️

#everyone’s so horrible about it #if you don’t know what something means you research #I research when my friend says they have an illness or a particular sexuality I may not know about #or just to understand and help out because that’s what friends do right ?#so research if someone tells you they have a condition and learn the symptoms #don’t like it ? leave.#but don’t stick around if you’re not in the slightest tolerant to any speck of symptom they may exhibit #whoever does this is a horrible person #because you signed up for this so you deal with it. it’s so mean to punish someone for something they can’t control #because ppl aren’t nearly as kind to people who are normal as they are to mentally ill people #aren’t nearly as mean to normal ppl*#yeah sure they still have to control themselves etc but you never say this to normal people #you’re never so harsh to normal people if anything those with mental illness need more kindness and understanding and everyone blows it #how are you gonna sit there with full conviction saying I have depression and anxiety ( I have way more than that but okay )#yet blame me when I can’t commit to my work or blame me for being “lazy” I think as a perfectionist and star student I beat myself up over #that already so why would you hurt me more #alternatively this applies to ppl who get mad at others asking reassurance #im gonna rip my hair out for that why literally why would you have a problem #it’s always communicate this communicate that but in fact everyone’s allergic to communication and they’re not traumatised by it #ZERO EXCUSES BUT SOMEHOW all the excuses for normal people but none for mentally ill ppl #everyone’s sick. this is what I mean when. I say it’s so aggravating seeing people because they’re so hopelessly stupid #in the sense they don’t have an ounce of compassion and are disgustingly selfish thinking of themselves 24/7 and their feelings when not to #compare but ppl have it worse than your dumb ass paper cut - esque issues 😇#oh but all the sympathy to you and none to the “crazy people” who actually need more compassion than you be so Fr #and if you cope well with your own issues then good 4 u ! but you’re not the standard of the DSM 🤗 you also aren’t any better #everyone copes differently and expresses things differently dependent on their unique exposures circumstances and view of the world #let’s stop pretending that one view is the right view #this doesn’t mean let yourself get abused btw it means using that thing in your head to be reasonable #dora daily

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snekdood · 10 months

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like i really dont think ya understand the severity of the abuse- even aside from the sexual abuse-

i have bpd and come from a home where im not validated very well (obviously, bc thats what makes ppl bpd in the first place). i meet this person who validates me in every way i could possibly imagine or want (love bombing). they pretend to like me so much that they start to become like me and pick up traits of mine they like the most. they know they have a hold over me and power over me bc i didnt know how to validate myself and they were the only source of validation i had. so then they go ahead and start invalidating me and acting like im less of me and theyre somehow more of me. i knew who i was deep down but suddenly i felt unseen again and silenced and pushed into a corner. and then they act like im a horrible person (discarding phase) and serve me an entirely different version of me thats not who i am, but bc i didnt know how to validate myself and was reliant on them (something thats particularly important for this type of abuse to work), it made me question myself and who i was and what i was like and what my intentions were and what my actions were and if i could even trust my own reality all over again when i really didn’t fucking need to since i knew who i was deep down, but they somehow convinced me they knew me better. because i was reliant on them. i dont think you understand how much that fucks with you.

#vent #this is why i kind of find it hard not to cling to the term 'narcissistic abuse' since this is verbatim what happens in that type of abuse.#based on everything ive read.#again. i dont personally think it necessarily has anything to do w ppl with npd. narcissism as a term existed before the diagnosis.#it means someone whos selfish and only looks out for themselves and will do anything for themselves even at the expense of others.#and literally EVERYTHING ELSE people online have said about this type of abuse happened.#the smear campaign. the sending people after me to stalk me and get info out of me. the apparently never leaving me alone as evidenced #by that anon recently.#oh and- cant forget accusing me of everything they did but 10x worse somehow.#if a certain type of abuse can be predicted so well and so many people have had the same experience or similar enough experiences #i dont see why it doesnt deserve its own term. we just have to divorce it from the idea of npd. maybe give it a different name.#because its really not *just* emotional abuse. sorry.#its so much more than that and so much more strategic.#and this is why even though i didnt think of them as being exactly like zero before i still thought of them as being vampiric.#bc they tried to drain me of my energy and who i was.#but nowadays i can really see the similarities. if only they were rich and had institutional power and paid politicans to oppress #minorities. then theyd be the same person. but im not gonna sit here and pretend thats the case. they're similar to him in so many ways but #theyre not the same person. im obviously able to fucking recognize that.#in spite of them pretending like i cant.#now if that ends up secretly being the case... well....#might be harder for me to divorce them from being similar lmao.#but so far i dont have enough evidence to confidently say that.

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hanahaki270 · 1 month

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♡ Sharing a Dorm ♡

♡・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・♡

Synopsis ┊Your dorm is going under renovation and you need to find a place to crash in for a while. Luckily a certain someone offers you to stay in theirs for the time being.

Characters ┊Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki, Izuku Midoriya.

A/N ┊beginner Writer here, these were harder to think of than I thought ngl. If you have any requests please send them to me, I'm open to do different characters and also different anime's!

♡・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・♡

Katsuki Bakugou

❥ By no means whatsoever does he offer his dorm out of the kindness of his heart. He just got pissed off of seeing you sleeping on the couch in the commons area every morning, and accidentally stepping on your blanket or pillows. After stepping on your blanket once more he grabs your shit and puts it in his dorm and acts like he's bothered by this but really he doesn't mind at all.

❥ Makes you sleep on the floor for the first two nights until you convince him to share the bed. He's reluctant at first but then allows it as long as you stay on your side of the bed. Do you really though?

❥ Expect to sleep earlier and get your sleep schedule in check because his dorm, his rules, lights are off at ten pm sharp with no exceptions.

❥ Also expect your grades to go up. While he's your roommate he's going to make you don't slack off on your studies.

❥ When he wakes up in the morning and notices your head resting on his chest he gets somewhat annoyed but secretly likes it. he's willing to get behind on his strict schedule and let you rest on him a little longer. but just a little.

❥ Demands you now be his training partner but is careful to not get carried away. You're strong, but he still doesn't want to run the risk of hurting you. therefore, he always keeps Aid kits in the bathroom just in case you do get any scratches, even if they're minor.

❥ Constantly threatening to kick you out over every little thing but actually has no intention of doing so. He won't admit it but he enjoys your company. "I swear if I see one more sock lying around I'm grabbing your shit and throwing it out."

♡・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・♡

Shoto Todoroki

❥ "Why don't you sleep with me." he said boldly unaware of how his sentence had more than one connotation to it. I mean you need help and as your friend he's more than willing to help you out. plus he has the biggest dorm compared to everyone else, if anything he's the most suitable to offer his help he thought.

❥ Asks you what temperature you prefer to sleep in so he can use his quirk to either make the room colder or warmer depending on your preference. and ALWAYS makes sure to make both sides of your pillows cold.

❥ When he's out visiting his mother you make sure the place is clean (though it usually is since he tends to be on the neater side) and prepare some soba for him as a token of your appreciation. After a couple of times he starts to look forward for it and got saddened the one day you forgot.

❥ In return he made sure not turn on the lights when getting ready in the morning as to not wake you up. Part of it was for a selfish reason though, he thought it was cute how you slept soundly on his bed.

❥ Speaking about sleep; During the night he would find himself cozying up next to you, not on purpose though. He just felt comfort in your presence and he realized you felt the same way when you also moved closer to him during the night.

❥ Leaves out coffee for you in the mornings since you tend to stay up late on nights and wake up always running late to your classes.

♡・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・♡

Izuku Midoriya

❥ Overheard you talking to Tsuyu and Uraraka about how you need a place to sleep in and walked over to offer his help without a second thought. You already spend most of your time in his dorm room during the day to share notes anyways. The only difference would just be you spending the night.

❥ Offers for you to sleep in his bed while he sleeps on the floor. After you refuse to let him sleep on the floor he shyly agrees to share the bed with you constantly asking you if you're okay with it.

❥ Midoriya stays up late at night writing in his notebook and murmuring thoughts to himself. You persuade him to go to bed and leave his worries for the following day. he deeply apologizes for the burden kind of embarrassed. "I-I'm sorry! was I keeping you up? I'll go to bed in a few minutes don't worry."

❥ Always invites you to go out with him whenever he leaves the dorm, even if it's something as simple as going to the gas station to get some snacks.

❥ he loves to talk your ear off geeking out about the knowledge he knows about the top heroes and their quirks. When he notices he got carried away he gets all types of flustered but even then he doesn't get the sense of being judged.

❥ Since he's constantly getting injured and going to see Recovery girl he always comes back exhausted. regardless, his stubborn ass still tries to go out on missions and push himself to the limits. he get's frustrated when you don't let him do so and force him to rest and leave his chores to you. But he loves you for it.

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solarisfortuneia · 2 months

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— 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞.

✦ in need of a kiss? well, feel free to pick an experience from our finest collection! perhaps you’ll find one suited perfectly to your tastes?

(or, in other words, the types of kisses they give, and what it’s like to kiss them.)

✦ featuring: aventurine, dr. ratio, jing yuan.

✦ warnings: very kiss focused, not proofread.

✦ notes: these characters with this concept were particularly inspiring today, so i jotted down a little something really quick (might add more characters later in a pt. 2 later? idk)

also forgive me for any characterization errors please i'm still studying them

aventurine.

his kisses are greedy.

he’s greedy, far too greedy, and selfish to boot— he wants everything you have to give, all for himself. he tastes like a burst of citrus on your tongue, always, always keeping you on your toes, his lips sneakily capturing everything they can, right down to the slightest sound that leaves your lips.

he wants as much of you as he can possibly get, and he’s perfectly capable of drawing it all out from you, bit by bit. he just needs the right bargaining chip, and he has it already, doesn’t he?

a kiss, for a kiss.

a fair trade, wouldn’t you say?

(he doesn’t make deals that don’t pay off, after all. and this thing he’s doing with you? well, it sure is raking in the profits.)

veritas ratio.

dr. ratio doesn’t do things in half measures. when he kisses you, it’s all or nothing; he will put his all into it.

he doesn’t confine himself to your lips, either. the philosophy is simple: what kind of learning would one hope to achieve by limiting themselves?

his hands travel all over, learning the wheres, the whens and the hows, almost as if he’s trying to see how you tick, while his lips embark on a journey of their own across the skin of your face, your jaw and your neck.

he kisses with diligence and precision and passion, meticulous and methodical, quickly adapting his methods to even the slightest of hints you send his way. every action he does is intentional and deliberate, so why should this be any different?

oh, but make no mistake, for all his versatility and straightforwardness, he will not make it easy for you to keep up with him.

but you can take a challenge, can’t you?

jing yuan.

he is gentle, he is soft, he is slow— he kisses in the way that honey flows; lazy, languid, almost hypnotizing, like he has all the time in the world. he savors you the same way he savors the tea that lends his lips the subtle bitterness they carry, but they taste sweet all the same.

when he pulls away, a smile graces his face, one that lights up his eyes with adoration. soft as they are, they still command your undivided attention with the way you cannot seem to tear your gaze away from him. his hands still remain on your person though, holding you impossibly close.

and when he tenderly cradles your face in his palms, worries evaporate into air, thoughts slip away to spaces unknown, and moments stretch into lifetimes.

#—🖋#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #dr. ratio x reader #dr. ratio x you #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you

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pepprs · 1 year

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idk how to reconcile my new self with my old self. also i fucking hate waiting. GRAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

#delete later #im getting a taste of my own medicine bc when im overwhelmed depressed etc i don’t even open emails or dms or whatever and then ifeel guilty #and let them build up and run away from them and literally do not reply for years. but ive been waiting for like 5 different but related #replies for 3ish days at this point and im soooooo impatient omg i want to bash my head into the wall.. and afaik no one i messaged has #opened the message despite being active online elsewhere which is EXACTLY what i do so i have no right to complain at all. but still. omggg #i just have a simple question (me and the ps5 voice) reply to my message boy #purrs #also.. ok yeah im gonna be honest about it even if there are consequences lol. idk why im on such a mission to get back all my old #characters but if i don’t i can and will go crazy. i don’t even do that kind of thing anymore and d*viantart is an irreversibly warped #landscape due in part to capitalism and in part to own mistakes and selfish actions. and i truly feel like my tumblr mutuals are the only #ones who understand me and feel safe and cozy on here. but i miss my old internet home. and i really miss my old internet friends and seeing #all the jokes we had and how we were all like interconnected w the same adopt groups and stuff and now we don’t even talk… it makes me so #sad and i feel weird messaging them just for the purpose of asking if they can give me back characters i gave them 4 years ago like a) you j #just don’t do that kind of thing i don’t think but b) it feels so transactional and would make the part of saying hey our friendship was #important to me when i was a teenager and even though we don’t talk anymore i think of you fondly and wish you well. like lollllll. and i #feel cringe even tracking them down / messaging them bc we are all jn our 20s now… embarrassing. but i am so mad at myself for letting those #friendships wither (not that i have the spoons to sustain them these days anyway but still) and for not keeping bettr track of my characters #when i sold them and for giving them up in the first place and for letting my old internet life just fall apart due to neglect bc it puts me #in a bind to try to piece it together again no matter how i try it and i shouldn’t try anyway. but i am so tempted to rn. lol #* itd make saying stuff abt appreciating friendship weird bc there’s a transaction tied in (source: i did this and feel weird and bad)#like the way i want to SCREAM seeing that dA ate all of the journals i made when i was a 14 year old and turned them into glitched polls. th #the way the wayback machine has terrible unreliable records of everything and i can never get some stuff back / track some stuff down. pain #anyways it’s stupid bc i feel cozy and listened to and as connected as i have the energy to be to all of u guys so why am i doing this. but #i miss the dA stuff too and i wish it wasn’t cringe and i wish i could have everything that’s ever been part of me all in one place. lol #also this doesn’t even take into account my poetry community on dA on my other account who i also felt so safe and cozy with and i abandoned #that too and lost touch with basically everyone even though we all knew each others deepest secrets for years.. the heartsickness of it all #anyways mutuals who knew me on deviantart i am clutching both your hands with impassioned urgency and kissing u on the cheeks. that’s all

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luveline · 11 months

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spoilers for spider-man: across the spider-verse below

please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel hops dimensions expecting a new family, and a new life. he’s not expecting you —featuring a tired miguel and his confused but adoring wife. or, miguel gets the comfort he so desperately needs. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k

tw. gun mention/no graphic scenes

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel seems different when he comes home that night. You've loved him for years, you know his face. He looks slightly younger and older at the same time, impossibly so. He looks like he has bad news and he doesn't want to tell you. Something harrowing. How else can you explain his expression?

You stand up from the dinner table. "Hey," you say gently. "Is there something wrong?"

He isn't convincing when he answers, "What? Uh, no. Nothing's wrong."

"Something looks wrong."

You step in front of him and lift your chin. Usually, he'd look down with a smirk, or at the very least a smile, but he seems weary. You lift your hand to his cheek, pinching it between your fingers without malice.

"Smile, handsome. You have a lovely smile."

He smiles. His lips part just slightly. "You… you really love me. You're happy."

"We're happy," you correct. "Me, you, and Gabs forever, right?"

"Gabs?" he asks.

"Don't start with me. Gabriella's a mouthful. A beautiful mouthful," you concede. "I still think we should've named her Sofia. And yeah, Miguel. I love you. Really really. Don't forget it."

You make him sit at the kitchen table. It's a selfish manoeuvre; you want him to sit so you can actually reach his hair. Your husband is the tallest man you've ever met.

"Did you get a haircut?" you ask, running your fingers through his hair slowly. He shivers at your touch, and tilts his head back in question. "You did. That's such a betrayal, my love. I've been cutting your hair for going on six years now, I'm suddenly not good enough?"

"You're good enough," he says. He really sounds so strange.

"I'm joking. Miguel, if there's something wrong, you really need to tell me. I can make it better. Well, I can try." You bite your lip, unnerved by his quiet, solemn air.

"Am I being weird?" he asks.

"No," you say, worried he thinks you're judging him. You never would. (He's being really weird.) "Of course not, you're just quiet tonight, that's all. Did you have a bad day at work?"

"I– I got mugged. On the way home from work. I forgot the– the milk."

"You what?" you ask, eyes widening in shock. Miguel's kind of gigantic. You've always said that you pity the fool who tries it, but apparently he's less hardy than you thought. A mugging explains his weird behaviour these last five minutes, at least. "What happened? Sweetheart, are you okay?"

You take his face into both hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a scratch along his jaw, but he seems unhurt. You suppose being attacked would age you instantaneously too.

"Miguel, are you in shock? Should I take you to the hospital?"

"I'm okay. I just feel strange."

"Are you sure?” He nods hurriedly. You purse your lips. “I'll make you something warm to drink, that'll help. As long as you're not hurt, right? Did he take your wallet? We'll have to cancel your credit card."

Miguel catches your shirt before you can go too far.

"Hm?" you hum in question.

Miguel visibly deliberates. His eyebrows lift ever so slightly. "Could I hug you?"

The hurting and worry you have for him intensify before falling on the back-burner. You can shove your own feelings aside easily if he needs comforting.

"I don't think you have to ask me," you say, offering your arms.

Miguel is usually a short but meaningful hugger. You've hugged so many times and in what feels like every place on earth, and he's such a tall man that even if he doesn't mean for them to be, his arms are all encompassing.

It surprises you that this hug is different. He's tentative. When his hand falls to the small of your back it slots into place, and you can feel his relief like a palpable thing.

"You’re okay," you say, your lips at his crown, your legs between his.

He's keeping space between you, and you don't like it. You press yourself as close to him as possible, your arms behind his shoulders, cupping the back of his head. Soft hair tickles your palm.

"Was it scary?"

"Was what scary?" he asks. You don't mention his little sniff. He's smelling your hair.

"Being mugged? Did he have a gun?"

"Yeah, he did."

"Oh, I see. There's no shame in being scared, you know that?"

"I'm not scared. I wasn't scared when it happened. I just wanted to come home to you."

You frown. His admission is like a barb in your chest, aimed true for your heart. "I'm so glad you did," you confess against his forehead, a murmur of sound. "So, so glad. I don't know what I'd do without you."

You kiss his head three times in a row. The last kiss lingers, his arms slackening around you.

You pull away, not wanting to smother him. Whoever's watching knows he's had enough of you these last few years.

"Where–" Miguel clears his throat. "Where's Gabriella?"

"She's in her room. Call her."

You're hoping time with her will bring him back into focus. He's clearly more affected by this than he's willing to say. You don't know how you feel about it. Terrified, because you could've lost him. Euphoric that you didn't. You'd had this funny feeling all day long, and it's weird, you’d felt that something bad happened, a moment at the sink with Gabriella singing in her room, the clock ticking on the wall. Miguel late, but promising to bring the groceries you needed home with him before dinner.

"Gabriella?" he calls up the stairs. You watch from the stove.

You'll grab the pan and make him some hot cocoa. Just as soon as he stops looking scared.

"Daddy?" Gabriella asks back. She's audibly ecstatic, and her footsteps are a stampede from her bedroom. You can see her from the kitchen when she gets to the bottom of the stairs. "Dad, pick me up!"

"Oh, right," Miguel says, leaning down to hold her.

He pulls her with all the grace of an elephant to his chest, and she nearly chins him.

"Woah, careful."

"Dad, you're super late. Mom said I can yell at you for being late."

"You can yell at me, if you want to." He gives her a curious look. "I'm sorry for taking so long."

Gabriella tilts her head to the side, dark hair shifting. She's a gorgeous little girl and her dad can't withstand it, melting as you hoped he would, the taut string of his back finally cut in two.

"I don't want to yell at you," she whispers.

"Good, because I don't want you to yell," he whispers back.

Gabriella leans back in his arms and giggles thickly. He almost drops her, and has to readjust his hold on her back.

"I'm so happy you're home!" she cheers, bringing her little hands up together from her chest and thrusting them out like fireworks. "You work too much! I thought doctors was s'posed to make everyone better and go home."

"I'm not that kind of doctor," he says.

You turn from where you've brought cocoa powder and milk to an emulsified simmer on the stovetop and beam at him. It's your favourite thing in the whole world when she mixes it up. Ever since she found his ID card with DR. written clear as day before his name, she's been under the impression that he works at the general hospital. Alchemex might break medical thresholds, but it is far from a hospital.

"Are you having hot cocoa with your dad?" you ask Gabriella.

She gasp in excitement and lists toward you. Miguel almost drops her for a second time. "Yes, oh my gosh!"

"Well, come and sit. What mug?"

Gabriella can't decide on what mug she wants; there's the orange cat with too many whiskers, there's the black one with bright white stars. After some deliberation, she decides on her and Miguel's matching daddy-daughter mugs.

"You're having some too, right?" he asks you.

"Don't I always?" you ask. "Though I do want to protest the mugs. Where's my mug? Don't I deserve number one mom?" You kiss the top of Gabriella's head where she languishes in Miguel's lap, before placing their hot cocoa down far from her arm's reach. "It's hot."

Miguel doesn't touch his. You blow cold air at Gabriella's and dip your fingertip into it periodically, content to spend some time with them both in amicable quiet. Gabriella just loves him to pieces, and she leans back in his arms with her eyes closed, basking in his closeness.

She squints at you with one eye. "Dad?"

Miguel doesn't answer. You nudge his foot.

"What?" he asks.

"You're not doing the thing."

"The thing?"

You frown.

"Yeah, dad." She huffs and curls his arm manually across her front. "Please, I want the kisses."

He looks at you, completely lost. You're feeling similarly confused. "She wants you to kiss her hair," you say, wondering if perhaps he's suffering from stress related amnesia.

He leans down carefully and kisses her hair. It's not the usual enthusiastic kiss, and he doesn't bother blowing in her ear after.

Gabriella glares at him. "My ear!"

"Blow in her ear," you mouth.

He blows gently into her ear. She shivers, shudders, and laughs up a storm.

When the cocoa's been drunk and the mugs washed and put away, Gabriella races upstairs, promising to return with a storybook and the drawing she made earlier in the day once she’s changed into her pyjamas. Miguel looks less lost than he had. In fact, he looks normal. The warm drink has put colour in his cheeks, and his daughter's cuddles have done their job. He's relaxed. He's forgotten the fear of the mugging, you're almost sure of it.

You waver beside him. "Can I sit with you, or am I too heavy?"

"Why would you be too heavy?" he asks.

"You always say I'm too heavy," you say, sitting down on his thighs. They feel solid, a little different from usual. Miguel works out, but this is strange. He must be more tense than you thought. "It's your worst joke."

"I'm sorry. I won't say it if it upsets you," he says, his voice rough and low.

"Who said anything about that?" He's never called you heavy to be cruel.

"Sorry," he apologises again. "I think all the excitement today messed me up."

You spread your fingers wide across his chest, his heart beating a surface below. "It's okay. You don't have to react any one way…" You rub the tip of your nose against his jaw lightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. I had this weird feeling like something bad happened to you, you know?"

Miguel laughs and coughs at the same time. It borders on being distressed. He's really worrying you. "You did?" he asks.

"Mm-hm. But you're okay." You work hard to sound sure.

His hand slides between your legs, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your upper thigh, though it doesn't stay there. He pulls away, looking flustered. "Sorry."

"For what?" You blink.

"I don't know."

You laugh and press a kiss to the column of his throat, your nose squished against him. "I was thinking we'd watch that new movie tonight, with Harry Woodson, but it has guns and stuff. Would that still be okay?"

He puts his hand behind your ear and guides your head back to look you in the eye. It's a familiar touch. He looks like himself again, though you truly are offended by his haircut. Maybe something happened at work and fried it off.

"You're really something special," he says quietly.

"How so?"

His face softens with your flirting tone. "You're kind. You're so kind. I've never met someone like you."

"What are you talking about?" you mumble. It's your turn to feel flustered, jellified by the earnestness lining his features.

"You're sweet, and soft, and so pretty," he says, matching your tone. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time.

You understand the feeling. Sometimes you look at him and can't believe he's your love.

"Soft," you repeat. "Are you trying to say something?"

"Like that. That joke. You don't even sound mad."

"You don't have to be so amazed. I've been like this since we met, haven't I? I'm hardly ever angry with you." You follow down from his eye to his jaw with your knuckle, tracing a tear he hasn't shed. He's spun you into thoughtfulness, and more than that —reverential fondness for him aches in the very centre of your stomach.

"I must have some good luck," he says.

His near death experience has inspired a wave of sappiness.

You lean in until your forehead touches his, giving him time to close his eyes or lean away if he wants to.

"I love you," you say simply. "You're not lucky, you're amazing, and all this good you see in me? I see it in you, O'Hara." You huff a laugh, breath fanning over his top lip as you steal a wonky kiss. You pull back. "You're sure–"

Miguel kisses you. His hand flies to the back of your neck and his lips are eager, his head tilted to one side to accommodate your nose. He deepens the kiss and it's a mess, really, nothing like his usual kisses, no practised ease, nor confident touches. His fingertips push at the hairs lining the nape of your neck as though he's not sure what to do with his hand. It's like kissing him for the very first time.

It's not a bad kiss.

You kiss back slowly. You're the steadying constant to his hotheadedness, in kissing and in everything else, pulling time into an endless stretch of his mouth under yours, his body heat seeping into your skin.

The sharp point of a tooth catches your bottom lip. You gasp into his mouth and flinch away from him.

"Um, ouch? What was that, handsome, did you get your teeth filed to spikes?" you ask, probing your lip, a flood of giggles slipping between your fingers.

He looks at you like you've lit the sky one star at a time.

"Sorry," he says. "I'll be more careful, I swear."

"Sure," you laugh. "Well, you'll have to be more careful later. You promised Gabriella you'd read her the Wishing Tree, and she's expecting a performance. Voices included."

He adjusts you in his lap with more strength than you knew he had. "Will you help?"

You'll always help him. He doesn't even need to ask.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!

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soobnny · 1 year

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kiss me — lee minho.

trope. established relationship. just fluff and a lot of making out. minho is needy

synopsis. your favorite genre of lee minho is when he’s needy and begging for your kisses after a long exhausting day

word count. 1.4k words

warnings. kind of suggestive but not rly ? just lots of kissing so neck kisses and making out but nothing more

note. i can’t defend myself im sorry minho’s lips r just so pretty and kissable that i had to write about it

You think your favorite genre of Lee Minho is when he’s needy.

He barely makes an appearance, but when he does, he always takes you by full force. It doesn’t help that with this neediness comes a softness that had always been in the boy, but rarely showed.

Now that you’re dating, though, this intertwine of softness and neediness shows a little more often than when you were tiptoeing the thin, undistinguishable line between friends and lovers. It’s different from the care he displays to his friends, where he’s teasing, but you know he’s listening. It’s not quite like the one he shows his family either.

With you comes a particular softness that’s reserved for you only.

Like right now.

It’s an odd hour in the night, just close to midnight when he comes home. It’s the nth time he’s complaining about practice, sputtering loud whines about how coming up with the choreography had taken a much longer time than he had anticipated, stretching practice out longer than usual, and how this could’ve been time to spend with you.

Disdain drips from his tongue as he peels his jacket off of him, shamelessly zipping it down in front of you before tossing it aside in the laundry bin. “Just gonna shower, okay?”

His statement comes accompanied with a kiss to your jaw, and then he’s off to the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long before he’s walking out with wet hair arranged messily over his forehead, and you admit without shame how good he looks shirtless, wearing only a pair of sweatpants with a towel in hand to continue drying his hair.

“Stay awake for me, pretty girl.”

It is with selfishness that Minho asks you to stay up for just a little longer as he searches for a plain shirt to wear to bed. How could he not act on it? He had been thinking of kissing you hours ago, and he couldn’t wait until morning to feel your lips against his.

“Mkay…” He smiles at your persistence to stay awake for him, that gentleness peeking just a little as he takes a mental note of the way you scrunch your nose to keep your yawn in. He’ll save this memory to think about if practice runs a little too long again tomorrow.

The whiff of his laundry detergent is strong enough to peel your eyes open as he places himself beside you on his bed, and automatically, his arm makes its way around your waist.

You wonder what his motive is – it seems like he’s expecting something from the way his fingers tap at your hip, and the way it seems like he’s holding himself back from doing something. But Lee Minho is an impatient man, and it only takes about two minutes before he’s tugging at your shirt, sporting a feigned pout.

And then it all clicks.

You know this is his way of asking you to sit on his lap. Lee Minho has always been much more comfortable with showing his love through acts of service, however, he is still a man in love and in need of physical touch from the one person that matters the most in his life from time to time.

And years of knowing him would teach you that he has always had trouble with voicing his more physical concerns as he has never been outwardly touchy. Those years have also taught you of his little hints.

Like right now, when he’s tugging at your shirt.

A relieved sigh escapes his lips when you finally comply. Especially when most of the time you’d let him fight for it, enjoying the way his face would glow in heftiness over your demands of him telling you what he wants – but you really don’t think he’s in the mood.

He must’ve been so exhausted after practice to allow his neediness to make an appearance, even to the point of a whine almost spilling at his lips when you don’t respond to his tugging right away.

But you’re on his lap now, and that’s what matters the most to him. His hands immediately hike up your shirt, fingers sliding through your bare skin to claim their home in the curves and slopes of your body, the ones he’s memorized all too well.

“My needy boy is so cute.” You giggle.

There’s teasing laced in your voice when he leans down to comfortably rest his head on the crook of your neck, taking your hand and dropping it on his head as a sign for you to run your hand through it.

“Shut up.” Minho grumbles in response, fingers tracing little patterns over the skin he can reach.

He hums in satisfaction when you tug at his hair, the way he likes it, and you feel the ghost of a smile form on his face. When he lifts his hips up, you know it’s another hint that he wants you to move closer than you already were.

“Want me to kiss you?”

“Don’t make me say it.” He groans as he peels his head from your neck, lips moving to press against yours the moment you mention it but you move away just as quickly, dodging away from his kiss.

“So, you don’t want me to kiss you?” Minho’s groans grow louder, grip tightening on your waist gently to tell you what he wants. “(Name), please.”

“Sorry, sorry.” You laugh quietly, leaning forward this time to place a wet peck on his lips.

The simple gesture makes him fumbly, fingers moving to stroke your back before coming back down to caress your waist. Lee Minho is always so vulnerable when you kiss him like that, hands feeling him up after long hours at practice.

He looks at you with so much fondness beneath his hooded eyes before he makes a move to drag his lips down your neck so you don’t take notice of his unusually red face. His damp hair tickles a little, but you don’t mind – not when the sight of the man sitting beneath you, so hazy and soft, was entirely different to the Lee Minho the world thinks they know.

“You did good today.” You tap the back of his neck to get his attention, and almost immediately he’s looking back at you, at your eyes, then at your lips, and back to your eyes.

His eyes are a little blown out, but you can’t quite tell, not when he’s closing them and leaning in to kiss you. And his lips slot against yours perfectly, like they always do, but there’s more fervor and desperation in the way he’s kissing you right now, tongue running over your lower lip just so he can get more of you.

“Not tired yet?” You mumble against his lips, and he simply shakes his head, only pulling away when he can no longer control his breathing. He has a stupid smile on his face.

He allows himself to look at you for a few seconds, and the sight of your gentle smile and your messy hair and the flush pinkess of your lips, and the way you look down at him – mirroring the same amount of love he feels for you.

A sharp breath leaves his nose at the intimacy of the moment, and he’s hit again with just how much he really loves you that he feels the need to say it out loud. He doesn’t say it enough. He thinks he should work on saying it more.

“Love you.” Minho says it so softly, but in the quiet of his bedroom, you hear it clearly.

“I love you too.”

“You love me too?” He still feels the need to verify, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder before moving to work their way back to your lips.

“I do. A lot.”

“Hmmm.” The atmosphere is silent when he pulls away from your skin, head tilted back, open-mouthed and eyes hooded as he breathes you in. “Come give me another kiss.”

And you do.

Lee Minho would never admit out loud, but you’ve got him terrifyingly wrapped around your finger.

He is so, so stupidly in love with you, in a lovesick, comforting kind of way and from the way you’re smiling and giggling right now, he considers giving his needy and soft side more screen time in the future just for you.

And only ever for you.

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