#and he always compliments me about so many things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gay-dorito-dust · 2 days

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Hello could I please request civilian!reader staring at the batboys for a long time and goes “why are you so perfect and handsome, I’m so lucky to have you and I will protect you with my tiny body and hands” 🌸

Idk whether or not this is what you wanted anon but I hope you like it at least in some way 😂

Jason can’t help but let out a full belly laugh upon hearing your declaration after having stared at him for a full hour, as he walked over to you to cup your face in his hands and rest his head against yours.

‘How sweet you of chipmunk, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind whenever I’m in trouble.’ He murmurs as his thumbs stroked your cheeks.

He found it extremely endearing and sweet that you would ever go out of your way to protect someone like him but he preferred if you were to stay at home where it was relatively safe. Jason cared way too much about you to loose you, even if the comment was made in a lighthearted way.

Gotham was far too cruel for someone like you and you both knew it, the city was bound to swallow you whole before you even made it down the street.

The other thing that stuck in Jason’s mind how you thought he was perfect and handsome, to which he would always respond with;

‘I’m far from being either of those things chipmunk, but I’ll take the compliment.’

Jason didn’t view himself as an ugly dude but nor did he think of himself as handsome either, he grew up in Crime Alley and was taken in by a billionaire, he never had times to focus on the way he looked or acted in the eyes of others. Until you of course.

To Jason, Dick was someone many would consider a handsome and perfect man while those same many often regarded him as the complete opposite under the same breath. So whenever you held his face in your hands and called him handsome or perfect with a look of utter love and adoration in your eyes, Jason can’t help but find himself slowly starting to believe that he was in fact a handsome man.

If anything Jason views himself as the one who is lucky to have someone as good and as perfect as you and he reminds you of it day and night, whether he was Jason Todd, your perfect man or Red Hood, feared vigilante of Gotham.

Dick: found it really cute that you thought you could protect him, someone who had the insane flexibility and agility of a cat, but he wasn’t one to crush your dreams and aspirations.

‘My hero has finally come to save me?’ He’d gasp dramatically as he practically falls into your arms, causing you to buckle under his weight and collapse on the bed and giggle at his theatrics.

However he wouldn’t dare let you put yourself in danger in any way shape or form for the likes of him, he refused it as this life had nothing but take and take and take from him anything and everything he held dear.

He still remembered how he felt partially responsible for Jason’s death that he tries to make up for it by being in his corner when it seemed as though everyone thought ill of him.

So Dick really doesn’t want you going and pulling the heroic card on him as he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it, he’d act like he could when in reality he was doing far worse then anyone could imagine. So it be better if you let him do the saving.

Now Dick was aware of his own attractiveness and appeal but when you were the one calling him perfect and handsome, he’s smiling widely and internally kicking his feet and saying silly shit like;

‘You still have a crush on me? How embarrassing for you.’ To which you respond with ‘Dick we’ve been dating for 8 months-‘

When anyone else calls Dick handsome they are pointing out an already pre established fact, but when you’re the one saying he’s handsome it has more meaning as it felt as though he was being shown something that he never knew was there before. He lived for every time you called him handsome and it wasn’t because of an ego thing, he just like you calling him handsome and would never want to live in reality where he never heard you say it ever again.

Damian;

‘I can protect us both without issue so there’s no need for that.’

He sometimes takes your word a little too literally, regardless whether you were joking or not.

He was the crime fighter out of you both, so just let him do all the fighting, he doesn’t want your eyes to be burdened with the violence and criminal activity that he was accustomed to.

Also when you called him perfect and handsome, Poor Damian didn’t know what to think as it wasn’t something he viewed himself as nor expected anyone outside of his family to either.

He could handle insults and such but soft words laced with love and care towards him was an entirely new feeling for him in general that it both scared and excited him simultaneously. Besides Damian wasn’t interested in tibial things such as being conventionally attractive or whatever troubles the average person, he never thought it of any importance when other things took presidency in his life.

However when you compliment him, Damian couldn’t help but feel as though he was a little boy again, he would feel himself stiffen for a moment before the appropriate response came to him as easy as breathing, because caring for you was as easy as breathing to Damian and he’d do anything to make sure you were safe and sound wherever you are; for without you he’d be deeply lost.

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livelaughlovesubs · 23 hours

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Hear me out 💀, it clicked in my head... Sub!Blade camboy, how does that sound to you?

Obviously afab!reader and within the limits of your comfort <3

It sounds amazing, but I wonder what’s the context. Like how, and why, and why, and why…

Sub!Camboy!Blade - headcanons

There is no way he’d be a camboy, unless it was for you

If you desired for him to be that, he would

Would always wear a mask and sunglasses, and most of the content consists of him masturbation while you record

Sometimes he’d sigh especially loud, otherwise wouldn’t say anything

The two of you aren’t doing it for money, just for the thrill and fun

Which is why he wouldn’t stream regularly too, only when he feels like it (aka whenever you want)

All your viewers thought he was a dom, only the minority thought differently

The content he made wasn’t all that perverted, but he looked very attractive, which is why he’d be fairly popular

Those scars are just so sexy man

But suddenly your popularity skyrocketed when you decided to join him once

You just gave him a simple handjob, like what he’d always do on his own, though this time he was melting, squirming and whimpering like the needy princess he was

The opinions on him changed as soon as they heard his cute whines

At first many left, cuz they came for something else, but then your stream exploded

They bombarded the chat with praise and compliments, about how adorable he was, you almost got possessive of him while reading them

This was shocking to say the least, in the end, you decided to show up more often

You’d make him say things like; ‘thank you for the donation’ or ‘please keep watch me become dirty <3’

Blade doesn’t mind doing all this for you, if it makes you happy

Even if it meant exposing himself to the entire world

But he still feels more comfortable with the mask and glasses on, I feel he wouldn’t like showing his entire face, don’t force him pls :<

#sub character #sub!character #dom reader #dom!reader #sub hsr #sub honkai star rail #sub blade #camboy blade #blade x gender neutral reader #blade x you #blade star rail #blade honkai #blade hsr #blade x y/n #blade smut #hsr blade #blade x reader #blade hrs

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teezersfics · 1 day

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Lipstick~ Kim Hongjoong ♡

Just trying to match my hair with your favourite lipstick shade ~ Kim Hongjoong

♡ EROTICA ATEEZ ♡

Warnings : sub!reader, dom!hongjoong, unprotected penetration, angry sex, teasing, dirty talk (a lil bit), denied climax, punishment, thigh riding, Hongjoong ordering around, possessive HJ, MDNI, 18+

WC : 3.7K

Haven't done the fact check, so if there are any mistakes, please understand ⊂(･ω･)

There is a little story at start, the 18+ part starts after a while.

(A/n : OK, so it's quiet interesting cuz a week before Coachella I bought a lipstick in cherry red type shade, and when I saw Hongjoong at Coachella with same shade of Hair, it did things to me and that's how I wrote this. Enjoyyyyy~)

It was weekend, that means it was time to celebrate.

This weekend, a success party was organised for all the 8 lovely and hardworking boys by the company for their successful Coachella show and tour this summer. Ofcourse, a deserved one.

But, you were upset about one thing. You boyfriend. Hingjoong. Its been two weeks since they came back from US. But, it was just 4 days ago that he met you. Though, it's good that he is prioritising his time with his family, but you were upset upon the fact that he couldn't even meet you for sometime in these many days. He even met his friends from another company before meeting you. And that kinda made you sad for some reason.

Since you boy met, you've been giving cold shoulder to him, no matter how much he tried or apologised. You were not completely mad about it, its just you were playing with him for sometime, until the bomb inside him ticks. He might be a cutie patootie, until you test his limits, that's exactly what you were waiting for. You were just not going to let it loose until he made you.

As evening comes closer, you realise its time to get ready for the party tonight. The fact that Hongjoong was supposed to be at your apartment right now, getting ready along with you, but he was gone from morning without telling you a word. Sometimes you just can't figure out what's going inside his brain. But, you can't wait anymore, you have to start getting ready.

The theme was black and gold. Basic but classy combination. And, office parties are always classy. It was pure celebration night along with some business stuff. There was going to be an announcement at the party, but its fun part because only director knows about it, not even the boys.

As you think about all the exciting stuff that was going to happen in tonight's party, you get ready in your black backless bodycon dress, which was, ofcourse, a bit revealing. Revealing enough to trigger something in someone. Adding black heels and a cute little Balmain purse, finishing your look with gold rings, bracelet and a short gold chain.

Checking yourself finally in mirror for last time, you almost forgot to apply the lipstick. Your favourite thing in makeup. These days you are hooked onto a particular lipstick shade. A dark cherry red or blood red or dark red, however you call it. You just love how that shade looks on your lips. Applying the lipstick and checking yourself in the mirror for the very last time, you hear the sound of horn. Just in time.

You leave your apartment complex and while heading towards the street, there he is leaning against the car. No matter how much upset you are about him, in the end of the day, 'damn, he is really my man. Mine.' this is your last thought.

All black outfit, black shiny blazer, heeled boots, loose black shirt, golden chain and analogue watch. But wait, what you observed next was was you were not expecting. Your steps become slower. A brand new hair look. Undercut, cherry red dyed hair with wet look. It's as if you are day dreaming. He definately knows about your new obsession.

You walk up to him, cheeks already stained with heat, you didn't know what to say.

"Looking preety, princess" He compliments you. But, you remind yourself 'act upset.'

"You too." You say it coldly.

"Such a dry compliment? You don't know how much efforts I have put in today's look."

You clearly know what he is talking about, it's the hair, but you are currently playing hard.

"I mean, the look is preety handsome."

"The look?"

"Yeah. What else?"

"Very well."

To be honest, the more you are in front of him, the desperate your hands are growing to just caress his hair until you ruin the hairstyle. And, you just cannot control. An odd strand of his hair, resting on his eyebrow, looks out of place, which you try to fix. But, as your hand is approaching his forehead, he fixes it himself. Opening the door, he motions for you to get in. Irritated, you squeeze your eyes at him in annoyance and he responds you with a naughty smirk. "So, two-player game has finally started." Is what you think.

The ride till destination is just exchange of some words. You were continously resisting the urge to look at him. Just can't get enough of him in that hair colour. And his preety face. Oh god. But, one thing he doesn't knows, is your completely backless dress. He is yet to see it, and you know exactly when to use it as a trigger.

Reaching at the destination, you both are greeted with welcoming smiles from the boys. The 7 balls of sunshine welcoming you and your other grumpy ball of sunshine.

Their smiles are enough to make someone's day better. And, it's just the start of today's evening.

After the short greetings, you are seated at the couch, enjoying the drinks and snacks. Some of the members girlfriends are here too, with whom you are familiar with. There are also other artist from the company, for celebrating ATEEZ success. Such a wholesome company. And, suddenly there are taps on mic, stealing everyone's attention.

"Mic check, okayyy"

It's the director.

"Well, its about the special announcement. Total, of three announcements. Initially, I would like to tell everyone, that our boys, ATEEZ, after Hongjoong joining Balmain as brand ambassador, other boys will also be joining big brands from Korea and also international brands,as bran ambassadors, very soon."

Everyone cheer and congratulate the boys. Sometimes it just makes you tear up, how much these boys are growing.

( fr tho, I cry sometimes. )

"Secondly, ATEEZ will be having a Comeback in June."

Again there are cheers. Not gonna lie, Comeback period is so good, because as Hongjoong's girlfriend, you already know most of things from newest Comeback, and it's just so fun to see Atinys reactions to all the stuff getting released.

"Third, announcement. Out team manager is going to get married this month." This information does get the loudest cheers. The night is full of laughs and smiles. But, it's time for a game now.

Everyone is called up on the dance floor. The upbeat songs fills the environment. It feels like the clubs with all the crazy lightings and upbeat songs. But, as night gets older, upbeat songs turn to skies romantic songs. Ofcourse, for some of the couple present here. It starts with Manager and his soon to be wife joining the dance floor with cute couple dance. Later on, other members, San, Seonghwa, Mingi and Yunho also joins the stage with their girlfriends. You were stealing glances with Hongjoong, but he didn't ask you for the dance. It kinda made you upset. But, your bestie did notice it.

"Hey, it's not good to see a preety lady, sitting upset on the couch, while romantic songs are playing here. Come on, dance with me, will you?" It's Wooyoung, holding his hand out for you. Always been a life saver. You could always tryst him in situations like this.

"Gladly" you say with a smile and join him.

All this conversation just received piercing stares from Hongjoong.

On the dance floor, you can't thank Wooyoung enough for offering you for a dance.

"Gosh Wooyoung, you always get the situation right."

"Hmm, I've been observing it since you two came. Did you two fought or something?" He asks.

"Kind of. But just play along with me."

"Sure, your majesty."

As, you start the slow dance, you slowly bring all your hairs to the front from one side, revealing the backless dress.

"Holy, a backless dress. I see what you are doing." Wooyoung says to which you give a low chuckle.

"But, I don't think so I am allowed to touch your back. I'll be burned to ashes by someone."

"It's okay, you can hold my waist instead." You say.

"Oh Wooyoung, you are so loyal and you don't even have a girlfriend yet. How's that possible?"

"Didn't.....find anyone yet. My type is bit weird."

"Your future girlfriend will be so lucky."

"But looks like I won't be lucky anymore. Hongjoong's eyes are literally on fire. He hasn't stopped looking here for a second."

You chuckle to how stresses he sounds.

"You laughing?? Currently I am being used as a pawn and god knows what is going to happen to me, the next time Hongjoong calls me in his room."

"Haha, okay. This much is fine for today. Let's go."

"I hope this gets your work done." He gives you a thumbs up before leaving the stage.

You join Hongjoong again on the couch.

"Are you done dancing?" He is not looking at you. The mad energy radiates from him which gives you goosebumps but you try not to stutter.

"Yeah."

"Looks like you enjoyed it too much."

"Hmm, Wooyoung is actually so good at dancing."

He is still not looking at you.

"I still feel like this night shouldn't end. Its just so good to see eve-"

"We were leaving." He cuts you off.

"What?"

"Get up."

He gets up and heads to give last greetings to boys.

"Why are leaving early? There still alot of time." Seonghwa asks.

"Didn't have some proper rest for some days. Also, I need to drop her first. Right, Princess?"

He says to which you just nod.

Ride back was silent, not a single word exchanged. But as you reached, he grabbed your wrist. Dragging you all way up to your apartment complex, he yanked you into your bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"What is it Hongj-"

"Remove everything you have on your body, except that dress."

You are shocked by the sudden command, you just stand there, unmoving.

"Wasn't I enough loud for you to hear that? Get to work." There is something behind those eyes. Something that tells you not to mess up right now.

As you are removing all your accessories and heels, he is also loosening his own tie, folding the sleeves of his shirt to half, unbuttoning half of the buttons, messing his hairs a bit. Shit! The raw look that you enjoy to savour. Everytime he come backs from work or a meeting or award show, and loosening himself up after coming home, you would enjoy him in this look for hours. Not to mention the several times you have secretly pleasured yourself unknowingly imagining him in this look.

After he is done with it, he sits on the corner of the bed, right in front of mirror. He motions you to come closer and stand in front of him. His hands starts from your shoulder, caressing your body from your curves throughout your hips.

"Hmm, what a right choice for a party dress, showing all that cleavage, that back, that curve of the hips. It's not like, I want to limit your freedom, but I definately won't like what's mine to be eye candy for others." His voice goes low.

"Wear what you like baby, but don't use that to test my patience. Understand."

"This dress does not have a kind of good impression on me. Beacuse, it was not me who danced with you." His hands then heads towards your dress zipper but instead of opening the zipper, he straight out rips the dress from your back.

"And I make sure, you never wear this dress again."

The dress is soon pulled down from your body leaving you in your lingerie. No matter how many times you've been naked in front of him, no matter how many times you fucked, the way he looks at your body always brings goosebumps.

He manspreads and motions you to sit on his one lap. And you do as he asked. But, he has other plans today.

"Nah! Not like this baby. Face your back to me."

When you face your back to him, you could see both your figures in the mirror. You sitting on his lap, legs apart, him scanning the scene in front of him. But, what he says next, fills your eyes with horror.

"Since you were being a little bad today, your punishment is to only ride my thigh for today. And if you cum without my orders, forget getting my dick."

The worst thing you could hear today. After trying so hard to just get fucked, but all you get is a punishment, testing how much you can resist your high.

"Come on, baby. Move." His grit his teeth ordering you to begin the show.

Hesitantly, you start moving your hips. Slowly increasing your pace to gain more and more friction. You hands resting on his other thigh and bed, head thrown back, eyes rolled to your brain. Hongjoong resting both of his hands on bed, his head thrown back too. He sure is making you punished, but he himself is not sure how long he can hold back.

You just try to make your movements faster and faster, digging yourself more into his thigh, grinding as if your life depends on it. But, you are frustrated. Frustrated for not getting what you wanted, you click your tounge and whine in frustration while still maintaining the pace.

But your whines are loud enough to catch his attention. He lifts his head up, a victory smirk on his face, droopy eyes. "Did I just hear it right? Little cries of frustration." His mouth is right on your ear. "Frustrated because you didn't get what you wanted? How petty." He chuckles, the vibration of the sound making your ear feel numb.

He places his one hand on your neck, pushing your neck to the back, and other hand on your waist, helping you increase your pace, almost digging his nails in your waist. When you look in the mirror, he already has his eyes, trained on your face. And, you see the lust in his eyes, pure lust.

He for sure is your lovely boyfriend, but when he is filled with lust, it's like completely different person, as if he'd switch roles with some incubus. Not to mention, him having that perfect blood coloured hairs now, make your organs do backflips in your body.

Speaking of that, you try to raise your hands to try touch his hairs, but he is more in his sensed than you do right now. He quickly stops you by holding your hands, and then holding them at your back. You hear a scoff.

"If I let happen what you want the most, then what's the point of my punishment, yeah?"

You click your tounge again, clearly not hiding your frustration anymore. His one hand goes again to your waist, helping you work more faster. But, you can't hold it back longer. Your patience have ended.

“Ho- Hongjong pleasee-” you whisper.

“Hmm, did I hear something?”

“I am…..am so close. Please….”

“Aww, but you know the rules, right”

He is just testing every bit of your patience.

“Please, please, I beg…beg you.”

A single tear roll down your closed eye, out of desperation and your restrained release. But, your breathes grow heavy and you are so…so close to disobey him again. And he notices, stopping your movements.

“On your back, now.”

Without wasting a second, you are laying on bed. He gets in between legs separating them for him to stand on his knees, undressing himself. Finally pulling down his boxer to take out his hard dick. He pumps it himself for some seconds. He comes down to kiss you, or rather you'd say eat your lips out. The way he is kissing you with his tongue exploring every corner in your mouth, making you out of breathe.

Your hand pinned above your head, with one hand still stopping you from achieving your goa of touching his hairsl. Separating his lips from yours, he removes the last remaining pieces of clothes from your body.

“Remember baby, the rules are still same. No cumming without my permission.”

And with that he enters you, bottoming out, making you gasp out loud.

“Gosh, you are so wet, I don't even need to try.”

Then he starts moving, short shallow thrusts at start, pulling out just halfway through and then going all in again. Making your body rock every so slowly. But, then when he is done with the intro, he increases his speed suddenly, pulling almost out but then suddenly snapping in fast making you scream.

“Ahhh, fuck, fuck…ah agh”

“Oh, just this got you cursing like this, the main show is yet to begin.”

With this, starts thrusting fast, so fast that could rip your pussy. The sound of skin slapping, creaking of bed, both your pants and moans, fills the room.

He finally let your hands free to gain more stability, and first thing you do is find his hair. Intervening your hand with his hair, you pull them making Hongjoong groan. He is not that vocal in bed, but when he is, his moans are most best thing your ears have ever heard. And, you always try to find a way to make him moan.

He backs up for a while, halting his movements for seconds, and throwing your legs over his shoulders while still being inside you, wiping his sweat before starting again. This time he is not just thrusting but pushing himself inside of you, basically pushing you into the mattress. Your brain is so fucked out right now, you have no capacity to understand anything. You are gripping the sheets beneath you for your dear life. His balls deep inside of you, pushing in and out, furiously. There's a drool flowing from the corner of your mouth, eyes rolled back.

“Aww, look at that fucked out face. Do I do you that good baby, hmm?"

You hear everything but you are so messed to answer anything to him. All that comes out of your mouth are moans and screams of his name.

He comes down to kiss you again, kissing all that drool away. He bites your lower lip while kissing you, drawing out blood, making you wince, but without a thought he sucks your blood too. That particular action made the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Ahh!! Fuck. Shit baby, your blood tastes sweet- sweet too, ah.” He says within heavy pants. His speed of thrust has become slower but, instead he thrusts in with more force, literally making the bed rock back and forth. Pushing himself in you and at the same time pulling you towards him, with force. It just hits different when he is jealous and wrecks the shit out of you, the best type of sex because he'd give his all to make sure the name coming out of your mouth is only his.

He kissed your legs, from ankle to your knee while still thrusting, leaving bite marks on your calves. And with other hand, he adds two fingers to your already stuffed hole, thrusting with his fingers simultaneously with his dick. That made you scream out loud. Somehow you managed to open your eyes a bit, but as soon as he saw you a mischievous grin appeared on his face, looking directly in your eyes. You knew, there was something going in his head.

He removes his fingers from your hole and starts rubbing on your clit with his palm. No, he knows how to test you. You throw your head back into the mattress because of the sudden added pleasure. He starts rubbing forcefully on your clit, he could almost feel his dick slamming in and out through your skin. That was just bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

“Ho- Hong, plesee….”

“Umm, please what babe?”

“Hong-....you- you know….please”

“Oh, does my baby wants to cum???” He coos, mockingly.

“Yess….” You nod desperately.

“But, baby. You know the rules right?? What did I say??”

You know he wouldn't let you win, but you can't hold it back. But, coming without him saying so, would just bring you another trouble. You bang your fists on the mattress out of frustration.

“Oh oh, look who is angry.” He coos again. But he instantly comes down, his mouth hovering above your ear, “If you just don't want to go through this, then don't go around making ME angry.” He grits. “Understood. Now wait.”

He starts thrusting again, fast, his both hands on your neck. Your denied climax, him thrusting faster and his hands gripping your neck, all this was too much for you to handle, the overwhelming feeling was making your back arch. You again pull onto his hairs, getting him to moan loudly. Him moaning your name and curses loudly into your ear was your last straw.

“Ahhh,fuck y/n. You feel so fucking good. Ahh.”

“Hong- Hong…please. I can't hold…..”

After some hard thrusts he finally says.

“Baby, cum for me. Together. Come on.”

And with that, you release at the same time as him. Your body going limp suddenly. While he still stays inside you pushing both of your cum further inside you.

He removes himself and lays on you, hugging you from above, peppering your breasts with butterfly kisses.

“Baby, I know I was busy all these days and did not meet you. But don't ever do what you did today. If you want attention, just say it to me. Just know, at the end of the day, I will always come to you. I just can't see you in anyone else's hands.”

You nod with a hum. Your hands find its way to his hairs.

“You did this on purpose, didn't you?” You ask.

He scoffs with a guilty ‘yes’

“I saw, lately you've been liking this colour alot. So, I just tried matching my hair with your lipstick shade.”

“You don't know what that did to me.” He chuckles after hearing you.

He suddenly lifts you up in bridal style, heading towards the bathroom.

“Let's bath together. I will wash your hair today, ok.”

No, cuz, i am SOOO crazy over this Hongjoong, like bsnsjkakakakakananwjjsosoaka

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tulipsforvin · 1 day

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if you dont mind me requesting another... may i request where the s/o reader is a noble with a really kind heart, like she owns a bakery and she loves to give pastries or breads to the peasants for free, and another noble didn't like it and burn the bakery down? how would the brothers react? you can do it with any of the moriarty brothers! sorry if its too detailed :]

NOBLE F!READER'S BAKERY BURNS DOWN ✦

🌷: reactions featuring the moriarty brothers

🌷: why have only 1 when you can have all 3? this is so unnecessary but i thought i'd spoil you (all) a bit. p.s you're fine, don't worry :)

⚠️: CW! slight desc of gore in william's part, skip if uncomfortable.

WILLIAM J. MORIARTY ‧₊˚✩彡

— it was the kindness you had that had him first crawling to you. being a noble you could have done many things; plan extravagant balls and tea parties, spend money on all sorts of items. but instead you opened a bakery, giving away baked goods for free. he had become distressingly attracted to you.

william's red glaring and gleaming eyes could be seen from miles away. he thought he'd drop by your workplace during his lunch break from university. he thought he'd enjoy a small meal and a small conversation with you, but instead he had to watch from feet apart as final, dying embers fell to the ground. the bakery that you and he loved was gone.

“will—” you sobbed, practically falling apart in your lover's arms. you had worked incredibly hard for this, only for all your blood, sweat and tears to be turned to ashes at the mere tantrum of an angered man.

“oh, my love.” william cooed sympathetically. his fingers tightened around you. he was quiet, but his narrowed eyes and tight jaw was enough to indicate what was about to happen in the near future.

over the next few days, which had not really took that long at all—he was able to track down the noble who had dared ruined your efforts and made you cry.

a man as corrupt as the noble who had burned down your bakery was more than enough to irk him. making you cry was another contributing factor to tip him off. just as the man unable to tolerate the warmth of kindness that you provided, william set all of his means of income ablaze. and just as blind he was to dismiss the happiness that appeared on the common people's faces, he made sure to gouge out the man's eyes so that he could see nothing at all.

and perhaps he might have gone a little overboard with his ways in his wrath—but he reasoned that if it were the divine themselves who brought forth tears from your eyes, not even the depths of damnation could hold him back from extracting retribution on your behalf. nobody could, would or should harm you.

ALBERT J. MORIARTY ‧₊˚✩彡

— during every visit of his to the orphanages he would find you already there, distributing all kinds of pastries and bread to the little kids. he found your kindness and charitable personality extremely charming. he had fallen in love with you.

fast forward to a few months and he had already begun wooing you. imagine his anger as he watched the happy-go-lucky and overall wonderful person he'd fallen deeply in love with lose their smile once their bakery had been burned at the hands of a dirty noble.

albert wouldn't just stand by. he was subtle—wore a charming smile but used his expert tongue to slowly chip away at the respect others had of the noble. it was backhanded compliments at first, then small insults that he brushed off as a joke, and then full on accusations as public opinion of him began to dive low at an alarmingly fast rate.

by the time he was done the noble was stripped from all respect and sympathy, forced to live an isolated life from others and unable to show face to anybody ever again.

of course he wouldn't stop at just that, though. he holds out his hand at you, warm and enveloping fingers wrapping around you as he pulls you up from your sadness. (and he always will). “how about i chip in enough funds to help you rebuild your bakery?”

“no, you already do enough for me anyway.” it would be extremely expensive. you possibly couldn't ask him to do this, but he seemed to have other plans.

albert smiles, voice teasing but comforting all the same. “then, how about this; i pay for all the repairs and you let me eat for free whenever in the future?”

LOUIS J. MORIARTY ‧₊˚✩彡

— it was a secret but sometimes louis went out of his way to see you. even if the sun had already begun to set he would walk an extra mile to buy grocery from a grocery shop that was situated right besides your bakery. on several occasions he would watch you, in all your kindness, feed the mouths that came to you and it honestly warmed his heart to no degree.

with a few pushes from his brothers he had finally began dating you. he loved you dearly and everybody knew he became violently devoted when he loved.

now if we push aside the obvious assassination attempts on that "imbecile of a man" (his words, not mine) by louis and his colleagues trying to hold him back, he's actually quite tame. again, only if we push aside the homicidal factors like the anonymous death threats and the bloody knives sent to the noble.

with a little help from his brothers, you're back on your own feet again (louis sacrificed the noble's legs in exchange). and louis even drops by every now and then to help you with baking and other works!

“do you need help with that?” he looks at you from behind your shoulder, watching you do your work.

“nope, i'm fine.” you smile up at him but he still grabs the batter from you and does it in your stead.

“how about you go sit down and enjoy a glass of cold juice or something similar of the sort?” he says calmly, already putting on an extra apron.

and in the end, you oblige as louis guides you out the room. because at the end of the day, not everybody can make lemon tarts as good as he does anyway.

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #william james moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x you #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty x you #albert james moriarty #albert james moriarty x reader #louis james moriarty x you #louis james moriarty x reader #louis james moriarty

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lordprettyflackotara · 20 hours

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paradise || sam golbach

SMUT. minors dni fr. 18+ this one is ummm. i’d say it’s for the humiliation & harder kink leaning girls only !! i have so many fics in the work i promise imma feed all of the different fandoms that follow me🙏🏼 enjoy mwah !

How did one woman change Sam’s life so drastically?

How did you change his life so drastically?

Sam couldn’t escape you. He thought of you every day, the image of you burned into his mind. You were like a parasite, one that had buried itself into the depths of his brain.

It didn’t matter what he did or where he went. He tried everything to forget you. Or at the very least to think of you less. Sam felt like he was slipping, losing control of his own thoughts. He traveled wherever, trying to distract himself.

It didn’t matter where he went, he felt like he wasn’t in control of his own desires.

Logically, Sam knew anything he felt for you was wrong. Any filthy fantasy, craving, or romantic thought, was a sin. After all, you were Colby’s little sister.

Colby was only a couple of years older than you, the age gap one that originally steered Sam away from you. Growing up with Colby, you were always around. You did your own thing, preoccupied in building a simple life for yourself. You opted to be out of the spotlight, politely declining any invitation to be apart of their content.

But then, you disappeared for a few years. Sam hadn’t seen you since high school. You went away to an out of state University, while Sam and Colby both moved across the country to pursue being content creators. If Sam was being honest with himself, despite his current obsession, he had forgotten about you for a while.

After all, he was in the major league now. He had girlfriends come and go, hookups, anything and everything he could ever need. Sam firmly believed, at the time at least, he was in paradise. He was on a high, one that he thought he couldn’t be knocked down from. So when one of Colby’s cousins was getting married, he didn’t think twice about the invitation, nor being his plus one.They did everything together, both boys pretty much members of each other’s families. Everything should’ve went the way Sam expected it to, but it didn’t.

Those predicted thoughts and plans were all shattered the moment he saw you. You were borderline unrecognizable. Sam couldn’t figure it out, staring at you as you walked down the aisle as one of the bridesmaids. Your face had matured, a decent amount of your soft skin revealed in the dress you were wearing. Your back was almost completely exposed, the sight making Sam shift awkwardly in his chair like a thirteen year old boy.

He could feel the blood rushing to his cock, his face turning the faintest shade of pink. Was he really getting hard? Over seeing some skin? Sam mentally rolled his eyes at himself. He had seen much crazier things. Yet, the simplicity of your back was enough to send him in a frenzy. As you gazed over at the audience, your eyes met his, a small smile creeping up your lips. Sam delivered a discreet wave, your smile growing bigger at the sight. Your eyes then flickered back to the bride, your attention returning to the wedding.

Somehow, someway, for some reason, that made Sam jealous. Sam was not a jealous person. Or he didn’t consider himself to be. The after party was more Sam’s speed, the loud music and alcohol provided something he was used to. Sam didn’t drink often, deciding to stay sober for the most part. (After one too many drunken hookups, he learned his lesson.) He monitored Colby the best he could, the brunette talking up a girl Sam didn’t recognize.

Awkwardly Sam sat at one of the round tables, his phone dead and eyes glazed over from boredom.

“Sam?”

Your voice was like heroin.

Sam’s head perked up, his eyes flickering to yours. You sat down beside him, skipping the small talk and immediately trying to catch up. As you told him about your University adventures Sam couldn’t help but stare at you. Your elegant makeup complimented you perfectly, your pink lips moving a mile a minute. He hung onto every word, every time you laughed at one of his jokes.

The party was beginning to die down, older family members going their separate ways. You nervously bit your bottom lip, asking Sam a question he could’ve only dreamed of:

“Hey, do you wanna get out of here?”

Sam felt euphoric when you pulled him into the back seat of your car. When you placed your lips against his, when your small hands began to fiddle with his belt.

He remembered the sweet sound of your moans. The way you whimpered for him, begging for him to not stop. How tight your cunt squeezed him, the way your lips pressed against his with such passion. As if you had been yearning for him all of those years you were away. The way you looked into his eyes as you came around his cock was all Sam could ever think about.

Attempting to return to his normal life was pure agony. Having to look Colby in the eye the next day was a nightmare, his little sister’s mouth wrapped around his cock the night before. Attempting to continue making content was even harder, Sam’s mind wrapped around the memory of you. He tried to ignore it, but his fans knew something was up. The comments of concern grew overwhelming, the blonde deciding to take a break from social media all together.

Colby recommended that he try to take a well deserved vacation to try to get himself together. Colby didn’t think much of his behavior, figuring he was just in a slump. Sometimes making too much content was draining. He figured he just needed a long break.

Sam tried. Genuinely, he tried to move on. He visited Florida, the waves of the beach not enough to drown out the memory of your moans. He tried New York next, the tourist actions not indulging enough to get him to forget you. Every time he attempted to focus his mind would begin remembering, the sight of you falling apart on his fingers.

It was never enough.

He sat in his hotel room, contemplating booking another flight. Maybe to Mexico. Maybe that would fix it. He flipped apps to instagram, a picture of you showing up on his timeline. Of course. What were the odds? You were posing with a friend, standing in front of a picture of your University.

He bit his bottom lip, knowing his desire to come see you was absurd. It was reckless, completely and utterly insane. If you didn’t react well, his friendship with Colby could be entirely ruined. But what if you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you?

Fuck it.

Sam stood at the door of your dorm, becoming increasingly nervous. He could feel his heart beginning to pound, his mouth running dry. Admittedly he felt guilty about finding your personal information like this. Then having the audacity to show up at your front door unannounced. He almost thought about walking away, but then he heard your laugh. The mesmerizing sound of your sweet laughter.

Sam cleared his throat, before knocking on your door. It was quiet for a moment, the sound of locks being unlocked filling his ears. Timidly you pulled the door open, surprised to see anyone at your doorstep. Your eyes widened at the sight of Sam, shocked he was standing in front of you.

“Sam?”

Sam could feel his heart pounding louder, adrenaline running through his veins. He brushed past you, entering the apartment. You awkwardly closed the door, more confused than anything. “I know this is inappropriate but I can’t stop thinking about you,” Sam confessed. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth. “I don’t know why, but ever since that night at the wedding I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. It’s been driving me crazy,” He continued, rambling on.

You tilted your head to the side as you watched him pace back and forth like a madman. “I have tried everything in my power to move on. But I can’t. Your pussy is like fucking heroin, okay? And I can’t stop thinking about you and that night,” Sam babbled. His tongue was moving a mile a minute, showing no signs of slowing down.

“Do you know how many times i’ve jerked off to the thought of you? Just the mere thought? You’re so addicting that I-”

An awkward cough came from behind him, your roommate gawking at the blonde in front of her. She looked back and forth from you to him, as if she was trying to process what was happening. “This is Sam?” She asked, dumbfounded. Sam felt his face turn red as his eyes flickered back and forth from you to her. Your face was nearly as dark as his.

“Uh huh.”

“The Sam that fucked you at the wedding?”

“Uh huh.”

“The same guy who made you cum like five times-”

“Emma!”

Emma raised her hands in defeat, sliding off of her chair. “I’m going to let you guys uh, figure this out,” She said. You watched as she walked over to the stairs, nodding profusely and giving you two thumbs up. You refrained from face palming, turning your attention back to Sam.

Sam was tongue tied, to say the very least. He was filled with embarrassment, his red face telling you everything you needed to know. You approached Sam slowly, placing both hands on his shoulders. “Did you mean that?” You asked softly. Sam worked up the courage to meet your eyes, looking down at you. Your hands on his shoulders was enough to make butterflies fly around in his stomach.

“Mean what?”

“Everything you just said.”

Sam was dumbfounded by your question. Had he not been clear enough?

“If you asked me to get on my knees and beg you to fuck me id do it without a second thought.”

You bit your bottom lip, eyeing Sam’s body.

“And Colby?”

He raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side.

“What about him?”

You sighed, taking a step closer to him.

“Does he have any idea about this? About us?”

The blonde took a moment to rack his brain, searching for any clues he might’ve accidentally left. Obviously he hadn’t said a word to Colby, refraining from bringing you up at all. If he happened to bring you up, Sam would change the topic immediately. “No he doesn’t,” He answered honestly. You pressed your body against his, the room seemingly growing to a hundred degrees. “He’s going to find out eventually you know, are you going to be able to handle that?” You asked.

Handle being skinned alive by Colby? Piece of cake. An absolute walk in the park. Sam would do it in a heartbeat, all for you. “Yeah,” Sam agreed. His eyes darted down to your lips, the urge to kiss you overwhelming him.

“I think you should stay for a while.”

Sam couldn’t help himself, the blonde leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours. They were as soft and plump as he remembered, your arms wrapping around his neck. As delicate as the kiss was, Sam remembered a very important part of why he was addicted to you. You liked it fucking rough.

Sam’s hands slithered down to your waist, pulling you closer to him as if you were going to disappear. “Jump for me,” He whispered, his lips refusing to stray from yours. You did as he asked, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your back roughly hit your living room wall, knocking over a couple of photo frames off of a shelf. You gasped as you heard them clatter to the floor, Sam’s lips trailing down your face to the side of your neck.

“Sam be careful, I do have a roommate you know,” You whimpered, his lips preoccupied with littering your neck with hickies. His hips grinded against yours, your core beginning to throb with desire. “She’ll be fine, you can tell her about the five more orgasms I give you,” Sam purred, licking the side of your neck. His lips trailed up to your ear, nibbling at it gently. You groaned his name, tugging at his blonde hair.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” Sam confessed, his hips bucking against yours. You giggled, meeting his gaze. “You better fuck me like you mean it then,” You replied. Sam smirked at your response. He carried you over to the couch, tugging at the hem of your shirt. He needed to see you, to feel you. You both stripped each other, desperate to see the other one exposed. Sam tried to ignore his raging boner as he admired you.

“Fuck, you’re ethereal,” Sam praised. He lowered himself down to your stomach, teasingly pressing kisses down to your cunt. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders. Purposefully he fanned his hot breath over your folds, your cunt dripping in arousal. “So wet, this all for me?” Sam asked. You attempted to push him into your cunt, his head not moving.

“Sammy, no teasing, please,” You whined. Sam wasn’t one to deny you of that, lowering himself into your cunt. His tongue lapped at your slick like a starved man, rotating licking to sucking at your clit. Roughly he brought two fingers to your entrance, relishing in the feeling of your walls struggling to take his fingers. Your juices coated his chin, his eyes meeting yours. “How are you going to take my cock if you’re struggling to take my fingers?” Sam asked teasingly. You moaned in response, his fingers curling and hitting your g spot.

You threw your head back, squeezing your thighs around Sam’s head. A sharp slap landed on your inner thigh, a gasp escaping your lips. “Look at me, fucking look at me as you become a stupid slut for me,” Sam ordered. You had no room to argue, your body a slave to the pleasure. Sam matched your energy, providing you with the rough dominant rough sex you craved. You forced yourself to maintain eye contact with him, your sinful moans bouncing off of the living room walls.

“Thats right, moan just like that. Let Emma and all of your neighbors know who this cunt belongs to,” Sam growled. His fingers were merciless, a third finger sliding into you. Your hands flew down to his hair, tugging at the roots as a knot began forming into your stomach. Your eyes were threatening to flutter shut, every ounce of energy you had dedicated to maintaining eye contact.

“Awe are you close already?” Sam smirked, your orgasm growing closer and closer. He spread open your folds, admiring your cunt. “Fuck, i’m going to fuck you so stupid,” He grumbled, reattaching his mouth to your clit. His strong hands forced your legs open, your thighs trembling as you came. Sam’s lips were relentless, sucking and swirling around your clit as you came on his face. As you rode out your high you threw your head back, your heart racing.

Sam couldn’t hide his ego as he emerged from between your legs. “On your knees, slut. Now,” He barked. You scrambled to meet his command, your knees hitting the wooden floor. “Open your mouth for me,” He snarled. The moment you did so his cum soaked fingers were shoved in your mouth, all three of them. You did the best you could to suck them clean, the taste of your own juices coating your tongue. You swirled your tongue around his fingers, teasing him.

“Thats a good girl,” Sam purred in satisfaction. He removed his fingers from your mouth, eagerly replacing them with his cock. Your mouth was heaven, Sam watching in amazement as you began taking him further without a second thought. He hadn’t even needed to tell you to. “You’re so fucking perfect,” Sam muttered, grabbing your hair. He ensured to make it into a nice ponytail, before forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat.

The sound of you gagging was pure ecstasy. Sam admired as saliva dripped down the sides of your mouth. Down to your chin. Then pooling onto the wooden floor in front of your knees. The blonde couldn’t think straight as his hips moved on their own, lost in his own personal euphoria as he face fucked you. You did your best to maintain eye contact with him, tears flooding your waterline. “You’re such a whore, fuck,” Sam groaned.

He briefly yanked you off of his cock, watching you gasp for gulps of air. Saliva dripped down his cock, tears officially spilling from your waterline. Sam’s cock twitched at the sight, your mouth reattaching itself to him. Mesmerized, Sam watched as you sucked his cock, your tongue swirling and wrapping around his tip. Sam whimpered as his own high came quickly, the blonde yanking you off of him. Your name was a mantra as he came, jerking his cock in front of you.

You flattened your tongue across your bottom lip, his ropes of cum painting your face. You swallowed what seed landed on your tongue, the rest of his cum staining his face. Sam guided you over to the couch. You stood eagerly, awaiting his instructions. “Cmere, come ride my thigh,” He said plainly. You planted yourself on his thigh, a whimper escaping your lips as your clit brushed against his bare skin. You went to wipe off your face, the blonde grabbing your wrist.

“No. Ride my thigh with my cum on your face. Show me that’s how much of a whore you are,” Sam ordered. You grabbed onto Sam’s thigh for support, steadying yourself before slowly rolling your hips downwards. You couldn’t hide your whimpers, your clit overstimulated. Sam watched in awe, your hips slowly grinding against him. “Go faster,” Sam commanded. He didn’t want to be easy on you, he wanted to see you squirm.

Your thighs shook as you attempted to follow his command, your cheeks turning a shade of bright red as the humiliation set in. You weren’t going fast enough for Sam, his large hands grabbing your waist. His fingers dug into your skin harshly, guiding you to ride his thigh faster. “Sam- Feels so good, I- fuck,” You slurred. Your hips struggled to keep up with Sam’s movements, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt your second orgasm coming.

Sam could feel himself growing hard again at the sight of you, blood rushing to his shaft as you pathetically did everything in your power to cum. “Cum for me, now,” Sam ordered. Unholy mantras of Sam’s name slipped from your lips, your thighs trembling as you came on his thigh. You felt dazed, your body trembling as Sam’s strong hands held you in place.

He lovingly brought his hand to your cheek, ignoring the cum that was gathering on his thumb. “You think you can handle me?” He asked gently. You mumbled an agreement, lifting your head to meet his eyes. You grabbed his wrist, redirecting his thumb into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around it, swallowing his cum. “Filthy filthy girl,” Sam muttered, guiding you into the next position.

You found yourself on the couch on all fours, ass in the air as Sam admired you. Your arch was divine, one he had seen before and had been yearning for all of this time. Teasingly he rubbed his tip up and down your slick, lubricating his cock for you. His eyes gleamed with pride as you squirmed at the slightest feeling of his tip brushing against your clit. One thing that Sam remembered, on top of everything else, was that you didn’t like to wait.

Aligning himself with your entrance, he quickly pushed himself inside. Sam would be fine with taking things slow, allowing your body to adjust to his cock. But you preferred to be slammed into, enjoying the pain that ever so slowly faded into pleasure. Sam let out a shaky groan as he bottomed out, euphoria clouding his senses.

Sam had traveled all over the world trying to forget about you, trying to seek paradise. One that would bring him to the state of blissful peace. But as his cock brushed against your g spot, the sweet sound of your whimpers flooding his ears, he came to a realization. Sam’s personal paradise was being buried into your cunt. Nothing else on the planet compared to the way you squeezed him, begged for him, kissed him, moaned for him. His paradise, overall, was you.

The blonde began moving his hips, your groans growing louder. Your walls clenched around him as Sam picked up the pace, he began panting curses with mixes of your name. “You feel so fucking tight, shit,” Sam groaned. He leaned over further, grabbing a handful of your hair as his cock abused your cervix. “You’re mine. My personal cock slut, understand?” He growled. He pushed your face into the couch, his cum staining the fabric below you.

“Y-yes sir,” You babbled, your body on cloud nine. Your thighs began to shake with every thrust, your body overstimulated and complete putty in Sam’s hands. Sam’s fast paced thrust were becoming greedy, the desire for him to reach his own high clouding his judgment. “Look at you, staining your couch with my cum all because I told you to. Such a pathetic whore for me,” Sam rambled, his hands digging into the sides of your waist.

You could feel your final orgasm approaching, your waterline flooded with tears as they dripped down your cheeks. “Sammy, gonna cum, please, don’t stop,” You pleaded. You tilted your head back, looking up at Sam as he pounded into you. His hand left your hair, slithering down to your throat. He squeezed the sides, restricting your airway. “Go on then, cum on my cock,” Sam muttered, thrust away from orgasming himself.

Your walls spasmed around his cock, your eyes fluttering shut as Sam fucked you through your orgasm. You were seeing stars, your final orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. Sam pulled out quickly, his ropes of cum painting your ass and lower back.

He felt euphoric, the paradise he had been seeking right in front of him, covered in his cum. Your body was spent, your heart pounding in your chest as you came down from your high. Sam scrambled to find something to clean you up with, deciding his shirt would have to suffice. He wiped his seed off of your ass, gently helping you roll over onto your back.

A faint smile creeped across your lips, your mascara smudged and running down your cheeks. “The cumming on my face thing was hot, we should do that again,” You admitted, allowing Sam to clean your face. He chuckled at your confession, admiring your fresh face.

“I figured you’d like it.”

With all of the energy you had left you lifted your head, bringing your lips to his. This kiss was different, the desperation gone. Replaced with a certain sweetness and passion Sam hadn’t felt in a long time. His hands cupped your face, deepening the kiss. The sound of his ringtone, halted him from continuing. He mumbled an apology, digging his phone out of his discarded jeans.

“Oh shit it’s Colby, hang on.” Sam informed you. He resumed his place beside you on the floor, your soft lips leaving pecks of kisses on his shoulder.

“Hey brother, what’s up?”

“You want to explain to me why you’re at my little sister’s dorm?”

Shit.

#sam and colby #sam and colby smut #sam golbach #colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x colby brock #sam golbach x reader

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aidanchaser · 2 days

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Read Confessions on Ao3 Rating: G for General Audiences Word Count: 1.4K

An Adrinette Post-Reveal fic, where someone brings up Catwalker

Her fingers slide through his hair like she’s untangling silk threads. She thinks she should have made the Adrien-is-Chat-Noir connection sooner, given how many times she’s slid her hands through his hair both in and out of costume. She’s never quite gotten over how smooth it is. She’d told herself that with Chat it was just the magic, and with Adrien, she’d imagined copious bottles of product—only come to find out, it was both.

His head rests in her lap, and his eyes hidden behind his forearm. His fingers fidget absentmindedly with one of her hair ties, and his lanky legs are propped up against her wall, jeans sliding off to show just a bit of bare ankle. She’s pressed back into her own mountain of pillows, and she thinks how nice it is to have afternoons like this together. No more chasing down villains, no more battles, no more secrets.

“Kim as the monkey was an inspired choice,” Adrien says. “He’s about as chaotic as Plagg.”

Marinette laughs softly. “I think that was Master Fu’s choice, not mine.”

“How do you decide who the right choice is?” Adrien pulls his arm from his face and looks up at her. Pensive curiosity flits through his determined green gaze. “Like, Nino’s really protective, so Carapace makes sense, but Alya’s all about truth and justice, right? Lies and illusion don’t make a lot of sense for her.”

Marinette tips her head back and stares at the trapdoor above her bed. “I didn’t think Ladybug made sense for me. She’s so brave and cunning and determined… I’ve always been a coward and pretty hapless and helpless.”

“I think you’re brave and determined.”

“You’ve only known me since becoming Ladybug. I’ve grown a lot.”

“Chat Noir made perfect sense for me.”

Marinette laughs, jostling Adrien, and when she looks back down at him he’s glaring up at her.

“You don’t think so?” he says flatly.

“It’s not that,” she laughs again. “I mean, it does make sense—now anyway. But not how you used to be, you know, around other people.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Just that you’ve changed, too.”

“I was always like this,” he protests. “I just pretended to be someone else for a long time.”

“So you weren’t a handsome, charming, polite and kind friend all those years?”

“Chat Noir is all of those things.”

“Charming is stretching it.”

Adrien wrinkles his nose, and it only makes Marinette laugh more.

“Who was Scarabella, anyway?” Adrien asks, unsubtly changing the subject.

Marinette has to take a moment to compose her giggles. “That was Alya.”

“Ah, of course. She did a good job, but she certainly was no replacement for you.”

Marinette bites her cheek, hoping he can’t see her blush. The hardest thing about dating Adrien after the reveal has been listening to him praise her as Ladybug. She had never quite felt comfortable hearing him praise Ladybug before, and now that he knows the truth, it’s worse, as if knowing both of her identities has somehow doubled the intensity of the compliments.

She unsubtly reaches for a subject change of her own. “And what about Catwalker? You picked him, didn’t you? Or was that Plagg?”

Adrien glances away, tipping his head back for a better gaze of her pinboard that is no longer just Gabriel ads, but has grown to include photos with friends and pictures from several of their date nights, and a few even of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“Catwalker was—well…” His brow furrows as he searches for the answer. She can’t fathom why it’s so hard for him to explain if he knows, but finally he says, “I was Catwalker.”

Marinette laughs again. “What do you mean you were Catwalker?”

“Well—you didn’t need Chat Noir around, and Plagg didn’t want another holder, so we… we figured something else out.”

Her hands go still in his hair. “You know I always need you, right, minou?”

His eyes are still on her corkboard. “You didn’t need Catwalker.”

“It was more like I couldn’t function with Catwalker. I… I liked you too much. You were so careful, so polite, so put together and charming… I couldn’t even think straight, just like all those times I couldn’t talk to you at school. You just made my brain stop working! I couldn’t be Ladybug if I was too busy thinking about kissing you.”

She hopes he’ll sit up for a kiss, but he still doesn’t move. His gaze remains distant.

“Catwalker was based on the person I would always pretend to be. The person my father wanted me to be.”

Marinette understands rather suddenly where she misstepped. She bites down on her tongue, holding back a stuttered apology. She can’t say she didn’t mean it, or it wasn’t true, because it all was and still is. She loves Adrien, and a lot of “Adrien” has been made to please his father. She understands now why he had pouted when she’d said he was so different from Chat Noir.

She runs her fingers through his hair again with a bit more intention to the contact between them than her lazy strokes earlier. “Shortly before we started dating, I got obsessed with dating Chat Noir.”

“Oh, I remember,” he says, and a small smirk flashes across his face. Despite how insulting it ought to feel, it relaxes her. She knows he’s still here, listening, and not lost in his own head.

“I love all of you, Adrien. You are still kind and polite, and not just to make others happy. You do it because you care. And you’re silly and sometimes charming, but maybe not as often as you’d like to be. You’re Adrien and Chat Noir, you know, and I love all of it. Because I love all of you.”

His eyes finally slide back up to meet hers. “You’re Marinette and Ladybug, you know.”

Heat creeps up her neck and into her cheeks. “O-of course.”

He swings his legs down and pushes himself up to her level. “You are brave and determined and cunning and creative and honest and thoughtful and a hero.” He leans in until his face is inches from hers.

Her cheeks must be fully red now.

“Adrien, I’m not—”

“If I can be Adrien and Chat Noir, why can’t you be Ladybug and Marinette?”

“I-I am, I just—”

“Am I allowed to love all of you?”

Her tongue tingles as her anxiety mounts. Her brain sparks with all the same misfires it used to around Adrien and Catwalker alike, which is unfair since he’s being particularly impolite and invasive in this moment.

“Adrien, I—”

“You’re my lady and my purrincess,” he says, voice low like Chat Noir’s as he brushes her hair away from her face.

Marinette isn’t sure if her heart or her lungs are going to give out first, but one of them is surely about to clock out for the day and leave her high and dry.

And then he kisses her, and all of her parts call it quits—except her mouth, which seems to find its way around his just fine.

His hand slides through her hair, and his other hand finds its way to her waist. Marinette wants to stop, but she also doesn’t want to stop—ever. It occurs to her, distantly, that Adrien has once again changed the subject away from himself, but that thought is too far from this moment, from the heat of this kiss to do any good.

When he finally does pull away, there’s such a Chat-like mischief in his eyes that only makes Marinette’s blush worse.

“I love you,” he says.

She forces herself—with a fair amount of effort—to remember where they had left off their conversation. “I love all of you,” she says.

He hesitates for only a moment, long enough for her to know the weight of her promise reaches where it ought to. He answers, “Only if you’ll let me love all of you, too.”

It’s a fair trade, at least. Maybe someday Ladybug will stop feeling like a costume, like an act she puts on. Maybe someday she’ll feel worth of all of those grand adjectives. But at least today, at least for now, she’ll feel worthy of Adrien, and she hopes that someday he’ll feel worthy of himself, too.

She twists her hands into the collar of his black T-shirt and pulls him in for another kiss.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfic #ml fic #adrienette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #i think i actually sat down to read fanfic but found myself writing it before i had quite realized what i was doing #if you hold this one up to regardless of perfection and put on the magic decorder glasses #you might be able to catch a glimpse of my imposter syndrome

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idolomantises · 1 year

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there's something so comforting about artists you admire talking about their own struggles and insecurities

#txt #was watching supereyepatchwolf's video on chainsaw man again and listening to fujimoto express regret about things he didnt learn #and how he's clearly envious of his peers is so... comforting?#i think about my own strengths and flaws and often times i get so frustrated with my shortcomings #im not good at drawing feet; my backgrounds are purposefully simplistic and lack a lot of detail; sometimes my designs have a tendency to #overlap or feel very 'safe' in terms of what i really want to do #its why; despite my love for clowning on media and animated works. i never want to feel like its from a place of malice #the joy of art is always seeing those little mistakes and nuances. its also noticing the achievements other creators have made that you #still lack #even for a certain hell-based show i love to poke fun at for its many. many issues. its undeniable how incredibly passionate the work is.#and i do respect anyone who is willing to get their flawed media out there (myself included)#i see stuff about people calling me their inspo or how flattered they are when i compliment their work and its like. gee. i hold myself at #such a high bar and even still im always surprise when people tell me how much my work moved and changed them #i really love writing just little fun things that i just dont really see anyone else touching and its kind of fun how despite my own #personal grievances with my own flaws and mistakes #people really do find things that they love within them.#anyways I know this is getting long but I’ve just been getting sentimental abt the creation of art #sometimes people make fun of me for love of drawing women and lesbians and bugs and so on #and while I will never let me deter me from my process. sometimes it does get to me #but then I remember that I love doing this and could ever see myself holding back #and knowing despite how other people feel. I have so many followers who resonate with my weird ass shit #that it’s all worth it. ya know?

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hadesknockedupintheunderworld · 3 days

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Okay I just need to say that I knew I'd like this Tailstube as soon as I saw the thumbnail (after all, I am a Sonadails enjoyer, and Tails is literally in the middle of them in the thumbnail)

But I think probably something that stood out the most to me when I watched it was just

The hints that Shadow and Tails have a relationship outside of Sonic??

The first thing that tipped me off to this was that not only did Tails convince Shadow to join in on his show, he also convinced him to stick around to its natural end?? You know, Shadow. The guy you can't force to do anything and frequently will just dip if he's bored or doesn't want to be there. But even while Sonic was annoying him and he made it clear he wanted the "interview" over with, he still never made a move to chaos control out of there because of any of this.

And the second thing that tipped me off was this:

When Shadow is both confused and annoyed at Sonic, he chooses to complain to Tails about Sonic. And so Tails steps in to try to "explain" what Sonic meant by what he said (i.e he told Shadow something much nicer in the interest of getting them to be on better terms). The fact that he looks to Tails to complain to about Tails' own best friend and possibly even to explain that which he does not understand in a social context tells me just how highly he regards Tails. And since both Shadow and Sonic are being childish here, it's amusing to see Tails regarded as something closer to a trusted figure with more power here.

From an objective analysis standpoint, of course this means they have their own friendship. And this is a prospect I enjoy (The idea that Tails and Shadow are good friends)! It actually means a lot to me that Tails could form a frienship or bond with Shadow outside of the context of Sonic (in terms of who initiates it and for what reason it's initiated).

But, my friends, from a biased standpoint, I'm shipping trash. And to me this Tailstube was a fun show for Sonadails fans. Honestly, Tails staging this episode to get Sonic and Shadow to talk and "bury the hatchet", as well as how he acts during the show, read a lot to me personally like a guy trying to get his two boyfriends (who happen to be rivals) to get on better terms, if not just tolerate each other. I quite like the idea of Tails dating both of these idiots and just trying to get them to play nice when they're all together (although frankly I think the ideal scenario for Tails in my biased reading is that Sonic and Shadow get together as well).

This is also not to mention the dynamics showcased here! Sonic and Tails as best friends, with Sonic assuming that he and Tails were gonna talk shit about Shadow behind his back, and Tails trying to get him to play nicer. Shadow and Tails as friends, with Tails trying to convince him why he and Sonic are in the perfect position to become friends and helping him out socially, and with Shadow choosing to do something he doesn't want to because of Tails, as well as looking to Tails to complain to when Sonic is annoying him or when he doesn't understand something. And then there's Sonic and Shadow. In short, their relationship in this episode reminded me a lot of the dynamic I plotted out for that Sonadow post I wrote up where the two just beat the crap out of each other. In slightly longer terms, I find interesting how Mr. Flynn maintained Sonic and Shadow's dynamic during SA2 (with Sonic bothering Shadow and trying to fight him, while Shadow is just annoyed that Sonic won't leave him alone) while also showing the audience that they are rivals. And in longer terms...Sonic was clearly seeking a fight during this episode. And the facial expression, the mocking, his tone of voice, it doesn’t really matter whether or not he actually dislikes Shadow and believes they could never be friends. He's trying to annoy Shadow and goad him into a fight because he wants to fight Shadow so badly it makes him look stupid. And we can tell by how he expresses his confusion to Tails that Shadow is just not getting this. To him Sonic is just being annoying and confusing. Sonic is targeting him specifically, and Shadow shoots back with his own words. And so it's also pointed that Shadow reciprocates/actually decides to fight Sonic when Sonic specifically challenges him. He doesn't respond to Sonic trying to goad him on, but when Sonic challenges him specifically he's much more interested in opposing him.

Anyways guys I love Shadow and Tails having a soft on the side relationship while Sonic flirts by convincing Shadow to fight him somehow😂💖

#sonic the hedgehog #tailstube #sonadails #sonshadails #sonadow #sontails #shadails #shadow the hedgehog #tails the fox #miles tails prower #i just be ramblin #man there are so many things about this episode #Another personal favorite interaction was when #Tails: Come on could you try to just say one nice thing about each other? One compliment? Please?#Sonic‚ mockingly: Anything you can do I can do better #Shadow: Yeah? Do it then. Prove it.#Sonic: Ah crap he called my bluff #Sonic: I uh...I love the way you...chaos control?#Tails: Okay. You do one now Shadow #Shadow: I uh... I also love the way you chaos control. ...It's impressive that you could do it with a fake emerald #Tails: See? You can compliment each other! Sorta #Sonic is on the aro/ace spectrum to me but to me his most compelling relationships are always little buddy effect related and knuckles #effect related #Which just means that he tends to hold relationships like his and Tails highly (and has taken more than one little buddy)‚ but is also #attracted to people who have tried to kill him. What can I say? He loves the softness and domesticity of having a smaller loyal partner as #he loves the danger and exhilaration of fighting/racing a strong opponent #Sonic and Shadow fighting (and especially Sonic trying to get Shadow to fight him on purpose) is just baseline what the two need #for 'toxic yaoi' so if someone can't even handle how hostile they were during the tailstube then...#Anyways‚ how we feelin Sonshadails fans?

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solvicrafts · 9 months

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I just love Jarlaxle so much.

#legend of drizzt #jarlaxle baenre #not gonna say what inspired this because spoilers but I just can't stop thinking about certain things #I wish Jarlaxle was real so I could tell him to his face #because like... he obviously knows he's funny and charming and desirable and all that #but how often do people tell him how truly inspiring he is?#he is inspired for example by Drizzt #and Drizzt is inspired by him and I don't know if Jarlaxle knows?#but Drizzt aside how often do *other people* tell him this?#who (aside from Kimmuriel) recognizes and compliments Jarlaxle not on his charm or his appearance but on the very essence of who he is?#I just... I have so many feelings about these books and these characters #but I wanted to give a special shoutout to Jarlaxle in particular because he fucking deserves it and more #there's a somewhat hidden layer of tragedy to him in that he thinks the absolute world of other people around him #but I don't think he fully recognizes those own traits within himself #he's STARTING to but he frames it as 'look at what you turned me into DRIZZT'#he attributes a lot of his best qualities to other people #but he had those traits all along... he just didn't always have the power or support to act on them

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idiaa-shroxd · 11 months

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YOUR WRITING IS SO PRETTY I COULD EAT IT. YOU CHARACTERIZE THE CHARACTERS SO WELL TOO!!!

thank you so much!! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ happy you think my writing is very pretty!! and also makes me happy you think my characterization was correct.

when writing for characters always take a bit of extra time to ensure they sound good? thinking about having an actual conversation with them for a minute and what they’d do! ♧ personally a big fan of viginettes since that reveals a lot of a character more than mainstory.

Σ('◉⌓◉’) mini (huge) rant within the tags of the way of my process to understand a character!!

#i’ve been trying to work on characterization with trey for example because in the main story he is relatively nice #but within his viginettes he’s a bit more than that like a slightly smug teaser than boy next door.#the characters tend to have complexity rather than one dimension traits people tend to stick by #which isn’t a bad thing but to start writing it could help kick you off but majority of the time your characters do have many emotions to #aspirations- such as vil being mean BUT that coming with subtle charm of care- he does not derive pleasure from purposefully degrading other #he firmly believes he can see the beauty in everyone if they try and he attempts to get others to apply themselves so they can be pretty #he does not go around like ew you’re ugly go away unless you have a negative attitude like leona who purposefully does not put any effort #but sometimes his pursuit for beauty can go out of hand like with epel or neige but his dorm ssr perfectly illustrates he knows what he does #he does not always explain himself with having epel do heavy lifting which only helps epel improve but he would not tell him this directly #there are other characters i can rant about the way i write. such as sebek being a malleus fanboy #but that was not a central part of his personality to warrant every fic just mentioning malleus each sentence #the best way to learn how to write for him would be looking at his viginette or his event story without tsunotarou!! he is quite a wonderful #-ly designed character but gets overlooked due to his ‘louder’ part of his personality. but he genuinely has captivated me as a character #the best examples for eng players would be during harveston- when he was extremely passionate about what he did with a soft side for his #plush!! he’s a big softie. he’s just very confused because his grandfather openly hates humans. he acknowledges marja and complimented her #he’s not hating humans for no reason but because it was taught to him. he’s trying his best to be what he is but you can tell he is not too #prideful that he would refuse to acknowledge marja just for being a human. in fact in his viginette he HELPS humans with their lumber #though that is technically due to him being confident he can do so compared to a human thanks to being a guard for Malleus but he is quite #happy to be complimented!!-. he is a character with more depth: ceremony viginette next #he tells yuu to just let him handle things since he’s stronger which shows he’s also blunt and says things without thinking about others at #times. but people are MISSING out on fics with sebek yuu and tea bonding over tsunotarou because he has no hostility to those who like #tsunotarou. he is happy to teach!! his other viginette think pe??: lilia tricks him into eating steak with yogurt iirc and he does honestly #it’s disgusting but he trusts lilia and 100% believe the old fae. THE POTENTIAL. authors need to use that?? just lilia messing with him or #how he can sometimes be so gullible you can get him to trust you mixed together with how attached he was to squirrel plush #he’s actually such a cute character.#there’s also Kalim who KNOWS there are bad people. he is not innocent as he knows there are bad people that want him gone #his least favorite food is curry because Jamil got sick for a week after taste testing his food.#Kalim just chooses. he wants to believe the kindness of the world not due to purity but due to the fact he does not want to live in constant #fear. which in itself already makes him more than one dimension. he may seem carefree but there’s room to play with when describing him??…#questions of styx.

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branchiopod · 2 years

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can’t sleep. keep making myself mad about shit

#it’s like three things rn #someone from my old college had it out for me and i genuinely have no idea why #like they were always rude as fuck to me and in the first few weeks we knew each other i was being interrogated ab slur and pronoundiscourse #asked how i felt ab he/him lesbians and i was like i’m not a lesbian so…who fucking cares #and we got into slurs somehow and i wish i could’ve been more articulate bc i was like yeah. i think some trans men can say the d slur #and they were like why aren’t you saying it and my response was cuz i don’t feel like it #but the point i wish i had thought well enough to make is like first of all slur discourse is stupid #and the word dyke is central to so many people’s identities not just currently but in the past too #when i was still fem-presenting and pre-any sort of transition i was a dyke. that’s the best word for how i felt then and now looking back #AND you don’t know the intricacies of someone’s identity. are you gonna police this shit? leave me tf alone #also pissing me off lol #is the fact that i dated someone who hated the parts of me that i like #shit spanned from like him saying it about tank tops and sweatpants immediately after i said they’re gender affirming for me #to not being able to deal with me being loud to the point that i re-triggered a depressive episode as soon as i got out of one #when im doing well im loud and excitable but they couldn’t handle that so i just shoved it down #and last thing. did anyone else deal with the predatory gay stereotype bc i never see ppl talk ab it but i was a huge target for it #it’s affected my ability to just. function as person like i can’t compliment people without making myself panic #the few times i’ve seen it talked ab is specifically the predatory lesbian stereotype #which does make me wonder how much of my experience was fueled by that and how much was just generic homophobia

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neverendingford · 3 months

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#tag talk #seeing hornyposting on tumblr makes me realize just how insecure my last bf was about his weight #and how much internalized phobia he had about so many things (but thinking about the fatphobia specifically here)#which like. tragic because I deadass forget that people irl do have and perpetuate fatphobia #like. he was so good and chunky and I loved that but he was so wildly insecure and wanted to be skinny again and I was like noooooo #the amount of times he would make fun of fat dudes and then turn around and shame himself for putting on weight.#not very healthy and also it's like that thing how it's hard to compliment someone if they always deflect it and insist you're wrong #hard to let someone know you actually do think they're hot as fuck when they're always like ew I'm ugly I wish I were different #also... a fat guy isn't gonna use his chub in a sexy way if he's insecure about it.#like. yes pin me down with your weight and make me breathe it in. but if that just makes you insecure about your body then you're not gonna #kinda like how if you like dick but the trans woman you're with is dysphoric about it then you're not both gonna have a good time #anyway. fat people rule and chub is good and one of my many goals is to assure the people I sleep with that I think their bellies are hot #I showered with my gf a few nights back and like. honestly damn. she asked about what I thought and I was like girl you're serving classical #like. very heart shaped in the way the belly lines lead toward the thighs. idk it's very beautiful and I like it a lot.#I get that a lot of people prefer my hyper-slim body type and sure that's fair. but don't erase us who prefer heavier people.#like. I keep thinking about her.#I don't remember which art period it is that's got her specific body type I said Renaissance but I looked and they're thinner there #anyway. still figuring out how my sexuality relates to my own body because gender dysphoria forever. but I know how I feel about others

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darknight3904 · 5 months

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It Burns For You

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ!

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Coriolanus is 12 when he sees you for the first time. Your red uniform is pressed perfectly and your school bag looks brand new. Your lunch consisted of a hearty-looking sandwich with roast beef and lettuce and a container of fresh fruit that had his mouth-watering.

"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." Your voice fills his ears

A delicate-looking hand is holding a juicy-looking strawberry in front of him. He reaches for it and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove it in his mouth. Instead, he takes a small bite and thanks you for sharing.

"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask

He doesn't. The school had said they would start supplying the students with lunches soon but how soon? Coriolanus had already been attending for a number of years and still nothing.

"I already ate it." He lied

"You're still hungry though. You can have the rest." You say with a smile as you push your fruit bowl to him.

"Is it your first day?" He asks

"Yes, my mother thought that my governess wasn't doing a good job so she had my father enroll me here. I miss being at home with my new kitten though. She has long white hair and she is the cutest thing in the whole world." You said

Coriolanus can't believe that you had your own governess, let alone a pet to call your own. He later learns from Arachne that your father became incredibly rich by manufacturing weaponry for the Capitol. Despite your inherent wealth, you've never flashed it around him.

You and Coriolanus are 15 when you discover all the lies he tells at school about his family. He had left his uniform jacket behind on his chair and you got his home address from Sejanus, meaning to give it back so he'd have it for tomorrow. Instead, you had discovered the Snow's decrepit-looking building and barely functioning penthouse. Coriolanus' heart nearly stops when he emerges from his room to see you and his Grandma'am sitting together as she compliments your shoes.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, ready for your judgment and teasing words

"I wanted to return your jacket, Coryo. You'll need it for tomorrow."

The red of the jacket in your arms matches his face as he ushers you to the door, trying to hide the fact that Tigris was preparing cabbage in the kitchen that would undoubtedly stink the entire place up with the scent of the Snow's poverty.

"Stop rushing me, your cousin invited me to stay for dinner." You say trying to stop the way he is leading you to the door.

"You don't want what she is making. Tigris is a terrible cook." He said

Tigris lets out a shout of disagreement from the stove and Coriolanus ignores it.

"How about, I go out and get something to add to the meal Tigris is cooking, and by the time I get back you change your attitude about me staying for dinner Coryo. "

And with that, you walk out the door and slam it in his face. He's rather stunned at your declaration but knows you're serious. He rushes around their home, trying to clean up what he can while Tigris laughs at his frantic motions. Then, just as he was debating whether or not he wanted to change out of his uniform, you return from your short trip to the closest market.

"I wasn't sure what Tigris is cooking so I got a couple of things." You say placing the bags on the table.

Coriolanus is sure you spent a fortune on what is in these bags. Fresh bread accompanied by a sickly sweet fruit spread and a block of butter sits in one while the other holds something else in a brown box. You take your seat next to him at the ugly little table he has eaten too many meals at and cut a piece of the bread for Grandma'am. He is worried when Tigris starts portioning out the cabbage she cooked on the stove. Coriolanus watches your expression as you take a bite but nothing that he expected happens. You don't knit your brows in disgust or get up to leave and take your fresh bread and mysterious box with you. Instead, you go back for a second bite and compliment what Tigris has done with the food.

He sits stiffly next to you and can barely accept the slice of bread you offer him. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and Tigris reaches across the table and pinches his shoulder.

"Stop sitting like that, Coryo!" She scolds

"Like what?" He asks,aware that Tigris meant how oddly straight his back was.

"You're making her uncomfortable. You've been friends with her for years she isn't worried about what our home looks like." Tigris says

"She might not be but what happens when she goes to school tomorrow and talks?" He asks

He shuts up when he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening again.

"That was lovely Tigris. I've never had anything like it, I'll have to invite you all to my own home for dinner sometime. Our cook makes these pastries that are simply wonderful. They even get sold at local markets, which leads to this..."

His eyes widen when you finally unveil what was hiding in that second bag. A dozen expensive looking deserts sit in the brown box you brought, each one decorated differently.

"I hope I picked something everyone would like. I know Coryo mentioned that Grandma'am liked chocolate so I picked this one just for her."

Coriolanus feels a wide smile stretch across his face as you pass out your little desserts. His worries about you gossiping to their peers fade from view as he bites into what he thinks is a croissant. You laugh at his reaction and toss a napkin at his face which is most likely covered in the gooey fruit filling that was in his pastry.

He walks you back to your home that night and thanks you for making his night. He can't remember the last time Grandma'am had smiled from eating chocolate. You accept his thanks and gently tell him that he shouldn't be ashamed about his financial situation. He never gets to disagree with you though because a soft kiss is pressed to his lips followed by a rushed,

"Goodnight, Coryo! Thanks for the cabbage!"

He walks back to his own home with a jump in his step. Thoughts of you consume him as he smiles to himself, proud his first kiss was shared with you. He feels his heart burn with something that felt like it was going to come up and out his mouth as he finally made it back to his room, you officially had him wrapped around your finger.

Your room is flooded with sunlight the first time Coriolanus sees it. A soft, silky-looking bed spread sits atop one of the biggest beds he has seen as you beckon to your cat, Maisy to come and say hello to him. He looks at the oversized wooden dresser that sits against one wall. He sees the photograph of him and you that was taken a few weeks ago at your 17th birthday party nestled among little knickknacks. Books Coriolanus has never even heard of line your shelves as he you place a record on the player that sits on your desk. Soft sounds of a piano and the words from an unnamed singer fill your gorgeous room as he turns to you.

"Do you want to dance?" He finds himself asking

You accept and he leads you or well tries to. You're rather stiff and it turns out dancing is harder than it looks because he isn't any good at it either. You laugh as he trips over his feet and end up falling with him, landing on the ground entangled in each other. Your fingers brush his curls from his eyes as his nose brushes yours.

"What're you doing?" You ask quietly

"Nothing." He responds, his eyes flicking to your lips.

The moment his lips touch yours, a tingle shoots down his spine. This is a real kiss, not what you gave him when you were both 15. He cups your face and your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens it. He felt his head spin as you moved against him, almost as if you wanted him to swallow you whole right here on your bedroom floor. A giddy feeling swelled in his chest when he pulled away for air.

"Coryo...what was that?" You ask

"I thought you'd know by now. That was a kiss, darling." He laughed brushing his thumb across your lip

"I know that...but why'd you give me one?" You ask

"Don't you know?" He smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips "My heart, it burns for you, it always has."

Part 2 is out now!

Series Masterlist

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d1anna · 8 months

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I WANT 2 DIE

#dianna.moon #i had this meeting for this org i’m trying to join #and they put down the wrong room number in the same building #so i asked the people at the front desk and they told me to go to this room that they thought was it #and so i went to there and i saw all these people in there talking (mostly men)#and one of the club members came up to me and asked me if i was in physics #and i was like no ? :) i’m a government major tehe #and he was like really??!?! we always (the club) gets excited whenever non-physics members joins #And i was like ? what really #people at the meeting g kept telling me things about physics and i was slowly realizing i was in the wrong room #someone asked me what brought me to their club as a non-physics major #and i literally lied and i was like i think physics is interesting even though i’m bad at science ☺️#and this girl asked me too what brought me to their club and i was like #no no she asked me if i came for a friend and i was nervous since she complimented me and said i was pretty #so i just said yes 😀#i asked someone to help me find the room #i was meant to be in and at least they were nice to me and helped me find it #at least i got to the right room i guess #but no a person came up to me and asked if i was in the right place and said the organization room and it wasn’t remotely similar to the #name of the org i was trying to join but i was so anxious and overstimulated because there was so many people talking #so i just well yes 😊#CURSE MY SOCIAL ANXIETY!!!!!!! AND CURSE THE ORG THAT PUT DOWN THE WRONG ROOM NUMBER!!!!!#LITERALLY NO ONE KNEW WHERE THE ORIGINAL ROOM NUMBER WAS!!!! BECAUSE IT DOESNT EXIST #i think they thought i was there for a bit but i really was there for my social anxiety #i will think about this for the next four nights

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forlix · 4 months

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· . ˚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞

— the little mannerisms you pick up from the members of stray kids over the course of your relationship.

words・3.7k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / genres・fluff, humor, borderline crack, intentional lowercase, established relationship(s) / warnings・minsung’s are suggestive, touch of anxiety in felix's, jeongin's is lowkey gross LMFAO

a/n・massive shoutout to @/http.dwaekkii on tiktok for their edits about the boys' habits, which i consulted for chan, changbin, seungmin, and jeongin (and to @astraystayyh for beta reading hehe. what would i do without u). these were sooooo fun to write, hope u guys enjoy (｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )

chan + getting shy easily. poor thing gets embarrassed so quickly as it is. throw you into the mix and it’s just critical hit after critical hit. defense lowered. no health potions left. he folds like a lawn chair with a massive smile and a whiny “stooooop” every time you say something even remotely affectionate. the habit is adorable, and you love it to pieces.

but you like poking fun at it even more. “god forbid i find my literal underwear model of a boyfriend attractive,” you’d say, or something along those lines, which of course only triples his embarrassment and on more than one occasion results in him starfishing on your kitchen floor, his hood pulled over his face.

fast forward however many months. he’s still the worst compliment-receiver you know, but you discover one arbitrary afternoon that it’s rubbed off on you.

the two of you are cuddled together on the living room couch in your usual fashion, your legs thrown over his thighs and his hands tracing absently over your shins as you relay to him something you overheard on the subway. the conversation is painfully normal. you’re almost bored. you pause to take a breath, and he murmurs, out of nowhere, in the dreamiest tone: “so damn beautiful.”

“wha—huh? what is?”

“you. your voice, your face, everything. i‘m lucky.”

your expression of bewilderment persists for around ten seconds, and then slowly, so slowly, you begin to sandwich your head between your knees, balling yourself up like a spooked armadillo. chan wonders if he should call an ambulance.

“love?” no response. “what, uh, what’s happening right now, exactly?”

no response. no response. then, hoarsely, “you can’t...say shit like that…randomly.”

he notices two things after that. one, your skin is burning hot enough to fry something upon, and two, you’ve formed a fist in the fabric of his hoodie, which you only do when you’re pretending to be annoyed at him. the puzzle pieces fall into place, and he starts grinning like a madman.

“you’re…embarrassed?”

the guttural groan you emit is more than enough of an answer, and the cute aggression that overcomes chan is fucking debilitating. he wraps his arms around you and hauls you entirely off the couch and onto his lap, littering kisses over your face until it finally resigns into a matching smile. all intent to continue feigning grumpiness erased with the drop of a hat. you drape an arm over his neck.

“you’re so good to me, channie,” you sigh helplessly. “i love you.”

“love you more, baby.” he imprints these words directly upon your lips, then pulls away, giggles. “that was very me of you, by the way.”

“i know, right? i was just about to say.”

minho + butt touching. it’s quite simple, really. if lee minho is within proximity of someone’s buttocks, he will, as he lives and breathes, make it known. will it be a coy little swat or a yelp-eliciting, full-bodied grab? nobody ever knows, not even him. the unpredictability is what makes it exciting.

but it takes a while before this starts applying to you, because the way minho touches you is…different. doting. there’s no other way to describe how he always holds the nape of your neck while kissing you, how he rests a hand against the small of your back whenever he leads you somewhere, how during the nights you can’t sleep he guides you to the place on his chest where he knows his heartbeat is loudest. he even drags you into his trademark headlocks the same way one would hold an invaluable treasure. he’s so obsessed with all of you that he never thinks to pay just your butt special attention (though it is, indeed, a special butt).

you take it into your own hands. literally.

you don’t know what prompts it—maybe you’ve simply seen minho slap his members’ asses one too many times, or maybe you’re still thinking of the specific time minho slapped changbin’s ass in passing and it fucking echoed, or maybe minho just looks especially fine in this practice outfit, a skintight tee and washed sweatpants that hug him in all the right places—but you feel a new urge today as your boyfriend swings his duffel over his shoulder, circles around the kitchen counter.

he puckers up as he nears you, silently requesting his goodbye; you give it to him, relishing for a moment in the familiar, soft plush of his lips beneath yours. then he pulls away and turns to leave, and your hand acquires its target.

“go get ‘em, tiger.” thwack!

minho jumps a foot into the air. clutches his pearls and his left butt cheek. becomes the splitting image of that perplexed blonde lady surrounded by geometry.

but when he turns around to stare at you, the smirk melting across his face betrays how he really feels about what you’ve just done. good. really good.

you, meanwhile, look genuinely confused. “it’s like it moved on its own.”

minho beams. steps towards you daintily, intentionally, like a cat catching sight of a laser beam. brings a hand to your hip, murmurs, “that’s what we’re doing now?” kisses you again, for longer this time.

you fully foresee his fingers wandering to your ass to give it a gentle squeeze, but you reach up to cuff his shoulder when it happens anyways, and his laugh vibrates against your mouth. it seems you’ll be reaping what you’ve sown from now on.

(good luck.)

changbin + the Cackle™. yes, you said something exceptionally funny. yes, you expected changbin to find it funny too. but you couldn’t expect the godforsaken noise that left his mouth as he threw himself straight into the tree planter behind you.

your mind spun with frantic questions as you helped him out of the dirt. had the spirit of spongebob just usurped his vocal cords? were you on a date with the wicked witch of the west? most importantly—

“are you well?” you sputtered, which only made him laugh harder and his laugh so much crazier, so you started laughing, too. and you were goners, falling over each other until you’d been reduced to watery eyes and sore cheeks, your giggling interrupted only by the sound of you slapping his thigh every so often, heartily enough to reverberate around the little park in which you concluded your second date.

that’s how you fall for seo changbin: laughing. with a reckless, breathless abandon you didn’t think possible. stumbling across empty sidewalks, spitting noodles across dining tables, begging for mercy on studio couches. wrestling under tear-stained comforters, starting (and re-starting) silly stories, huffing into beaming kisses. the list goes on.

you never quite get used to that chortle of his, too busy enjoying its insanity to notice how your own chuckles grow shorter and shriller, how they gradually develop an edge like the chittering of a forest dweller.

you complete your transformation on your ninety-eighth date.

no, changbin doesn’t say anything exceptionally funny. no, he doesn’t expect you to find it funny, either. he expects least of all for you to fold over the kitchen island and start cackling like cruella de vil on helium.

han turns around from his seat on the couch. chan’s footsteps come to a halt as he emerges from the bathroom. both of them have fear in their eyes as they witness your undoing.

the only thing on changbin’s face, though, is unfettered delight.

“b-baby,” he sputters with a growing smile. “are you—”

you lift your face off the marble surface and turn to face him. the entirety of your forehead and the point of your nose is covered in flour. you blow a cloud of the stuff out of your mouth like a dragon awoken from slumber.

he loses it.

the two of you make your way onto the floor in slow motion, ending in a tangled heap against the side of the counter. changbin tries to clean off the flour and smears it all over your cheeks instead. you are zero help whatsoever, smacking his bicep like that’ll help you catch your breath. your synchronized, diabolical laughter reaches every corner of the apartment. your happiness reaches every nerve ending.

chan and han look at each other, sigh. han takes a video.

hyunjin + side-eyeing. this man is so god awful at controlling his face, bless him…and DAMN HIM.

on one hand, you love how in tune with his emotions he is, how confidently he puts them on display. and you love your synergy. you come closer to believing in soulmates every time you glance his way and discover your exact feelings written all over his features; it’s a special type of happiness, sharing a brain with your favorite person in the world.

on the other hand, you think there’s a time and place for candor, and he tends, well, not to think at all. during many a precarious situation, you’ll catch him wearing an expression so transparent that he might as well arrange the words THIS IS STUPID AND I HATE ALL OF YOU over his head in neon lights. cue a dig of your heel into his toe, a hiss of pain cut short by your piercing glare. if you’d known ahead of time that dating hwang hyunjin would have you doing so much damage control…you’d still date him, let’s be real. but you do get stressed at times.

the night the tables turn, you’re at a celebratory dinner for your coworker’s birthday. small caveat: you can’t stand her. she’s the type to spontaneously combust if she goes two minutes without talking about herself. certainly doesn’t help that she’s downing champagne like water, and her lips are looser than ever.

hyunjin comes with you, fortunately. or not. he spends the whole evening trying so hard not to laugh: snorting into his bread, excusing himself to “cough.” you think he actually starts doing breathing exercises at some point. you’re so, so grateful that he’s here, but you’re also deathly afraid that he’s gonna bring out those neon lights in front of your entire office.

then, she flirts with him.

from the opposite end of the table. perfectly wasted but still knowing perfectly well that he’s yours. the whole patio goes silent. hyunjin’s jaw hits the table.

your fork clatters to your plate.

FUCK time and place.

the side-eye you give her is devastating. truly masterful. your brow furrows. your eyes turn to slits. your gaze does the up-down-up of unadulterated incredulity. hyunjin recognizes the motions straightaway and starts smiling so hard his whole face hurts.

you take your boyfriend’s wrist and stand up. he follows suit. you don’t say a thing as you leave the restaurant, and you don’t have to. the intensity of your disdain was more than enough; anything more and she might’ve started crying.

once you’re on the curb outside, hyunjin pulls on your interlocked hands, brings you close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear. you hear laughter and his smirk in his voice.

“you’re so fucking sexy, holy shit.”

jisung + how he applies lip balm. that han jisung is the pioneer of modern day babygirlism is the worst kept secret in the world. that han jisung applies lip balm the riveting way he does, however, is unknown even to you. until one morning.

you pop into the bathroom and make your usual beeline for your toothbrush, only to end up motionless in front of the sink, staring. jisung is a bit off to the side, hair pinned back by a cinnamoroll headband, eyes glued to his phone, hand holding a tube of chapstick that you can actually see getting shorter in real time. he looks so pensive, so concentrated. how long has it been since he last blinked? you’ve half a mind to pull out a stopwatch.

finally, he rubs his lips together, recaps the chapstick, and makes eye contact with you in the mirror. a smile crosses his face, equal parts confused and amused.

“baby, your mouth is open.”

you close it. then you open it again, and your words come out in a barely-contained laugh: “what on earth did you just do?”

“what do you mean?”

“the—” you point at his mouth, then do your best impression of an elementary schooler trying to color inside the lines. “—that.”

jisung looks aghast. “that was LIP BALM.”

“no, i know what it—you’re so—i meant, why do you apply it like that?”

jisung continues to look aghast. “like what?”

“like you’re one of socrates’ prized pupils and the answer to the universe’s formation lies at the bottom of—” you step in close, reach into the pocket of his sweatpants. “—this tube!”

it might be the craziest thing you’ve ever said to him. he bursts into laughter, the kind that leaves him no recollection of what he does with his limbs, and when he can see straight again he discovers he’s pressed you gently against the counter. his fingers latched around the hem of your top, his grin inches away from yours. can’t stay away from you to save his life, this one.

“do i actually?”

“yes! holy shit, it’s so cute.” your arms circle around his neck, also without an ounce of thought, also through a fit of giggles. “no way you’ve always done that, right?”

“i don’t know. i’ve never thought about it.” a pause. a tilt of his head, with purpose. “am i…doing it wrong?”

the question is a trap and you realize it too late. your gaze drops from his eyes to his lips—a ray of sunlight glistens off the pink plush like a paid actor—then back to his eyes. let’s find out.

you lean in. so does he. and his mouth tastes and feels like melted fucking sugar. it’s such a pleasant surprise that you actually moan, and he chuckles against you. lifts you onto the edge of the sink. your mind really goes empty after that, save for one thought. i have to start doing that.

felix + checking his own pulse. you saw it from afar, the first time.

he stood by the stage’s entrance just before curtain up, pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of his neck. eyelids sealed closed, chest heaving. you tilted your head, puzzled. worried. then the concert began, and you pushed the image to the back of your mind.

it returned to the forefront right before bed.

“you do it when you’re nervous?”

“yeah. forces me to ground myself. turns off the world for a bit.” the hand rubbing circles into your back paused. “wanna give it a go?”

“what, checking my pulse?”

“mine.”

you lifted your head off the pillow. felix took your hand from where it sat upon his ribs, isolating two fingers and nestling them over his jugular. his quickened heartbeat pressed into your skin like the world’s gentlest tattoo.

the sixty seconds began and concluded in total silence.

“well?” he whispered.

“ninety-three,” you answered, lightheaded from the sheer intimacy of it all. “you’re nervous right now?”

“something like that,” he hummed. pulled you down, kissed you deeply. there were no more words exchanged that night.

the habit surfaced more than you knew. while driving to visit your parents. after a stupid argument with a bouquet of flowers tucked beneath his free arm. you started doing it for him in the times he couldn’t, and he’d cover your hand with his own and kiss the top of your head silently, gratefully.

two years have passed since, and you’ve vanished from the dinner table.

felix asks the nearest waiter for directions to the restrooms. you don’t notice when the door swings open, unmoving in your spot over the sink, your pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of your neck.

his hand finds your hip. you let him turn you around and bring you to his chest; he glances at the crystalline droplets studding your lashes and falling from your cheeks. his eyes convey what his mouth doesn’t need to, not anymore.

let me.

you do.

his fingers replace yours the moment you drop them from under your jaw, the movement like clockwork. he counts your every heartbeat with unblinking concentration, his heart growing heavier the higher the number climbs.

the sixty seconds begin and conclude in total silence.

“well?” you whisper.

“hundred and six,” he answers. to his confusion, a smile pulls at your lips.

he wonders if it’s a trick of the bathroom lights when he sees the tiny box you pluck from your pocket, but there’s no mistaking the reality of the diamond ring that sits behind its open lid.

the earth slants under his feet.

“crazy.” you giggle through your tears, run your thumb over his cheekbone. “that’s how many years i want with you.”

seungmin + poking eyes(?) he’s hardly touched puppym when your voice is slicing through the living room air like a fucking beyblade.

“KIM SEUNGMIN, UNHAND HIM THIS INSTANT.”

do you have a sixth sense just for this? he throws his hands up in exasperation. “he’s literally me. i’m allowed to do whatever i want with me.”

“he’s not you, he’s our son.” you pop out of nowhere to swipe the plushie from over your boyfriend’s shoulder. “my son, if you keep this up.”

“just say you hate me and my preferred avenues of self expression.”

upside-down, he watches you dust off puppym’s face and smooch his forehead with a tenderness that makes seungmin unhappier than he lets on. you then tuck him into your jacket pocket. the little shit’s expression looks strangely smug poking out of its cotton capsule.

“i’m asking you to not gauge his eyes out, not to deliver me the holy grail,” you say. “you’ll survive.”

but then he feels your hands on either side of his face, and you lean over him like the mj to his peter, leave a kiss on the space between his eyes, too. he has zero say in the bashful smile this brings to his face.

“but why do you do that, seriously?” you mutter.

“i have no idea,” he replies. “but it’s fun. try it.”

“i’ll think about it.” you lean in again, and he nearly forgets what you were talking about in the first place when you kiss him on the lips this time. “okay, i’ve thought about it. no.”

“hate you,” he says despite the literal hearts in his eyes, and then you’re off to work.

puppym takes strikingly after his father. they have the same bangs. the same compulsively squeezable quality. the same little :3 that can only allude to sinister plottings. you’d be loath to admit that you sort of comprehend seungmin’s poking predisposition.

one night, seungmin falls asleep before you even finish your nighttime routine, and you spot in his peaceful, upturned face an opportunity.

you lie belly-down on your side of the bed. your fingers splay into a peace-sign in the air. your smile stretches further into a cheshire grin the closer you bring your hand. you’re just about to reach the ends of his eyelashes when—

“I KNEW IT!”

you almost catapult into the ceiling. then you try to make a mad dash for the bathroom. but seungmin shoots a hand around your wrist like he’s actually peter parker and pins you down before you so much as take a step. your only remaining option is to sulk about your foiled plans. (and blush, because, well, you’re under him.)

“amateur,” he tsks. “you gotta test my breathing to make sure i’m asleep first. shit’s foolproof.”

you blink at him for a few seconds. his words finally click.

now you almost catapult him into the ceiling.

“HOW MANY TIMES?”

jeongin + eating food in one bite. so you might be an instigator.

“hwuck,” he grumbles around the whole ice cream cone in his mouth, face scrunched up in a brain-freeze-induced wince. “ayee ith waz a bah iyeah.” (translation: fuck, maybe this was a bad idea.)

“you got this. just take it slow,” you urge, except he’s stopped moving and speaking and closed his eyes as if he’s descending into a deep sleep. you’re actually concerned for about two seconds, and then his jaw begins to oscillate leisurely like an elderly cow in his favorite pasture. false alarm.

after some time, he swallows, beams. “so am i the fucking best or what.”

“yeah you are,” you echo, and he swings an arm over your shoulder, plants a chocolatey kiss on your temple. the two of you celebrate his daesangs with less enthusiasm.

“when are you doing that with me, by the way?”

“the one-bite thing?” he nods. “mmm, coaches don’t play.”

“mmm, this one will.”

“doubtful.”

fast forward a few weeks and you, jeongin, and his younger brother are sitting cross-legged on the porch in his backyard. three full-sized oranges rest in the center of your makeshift circle. damn is yoon hard to say no to. (runs in the family.)

“the rules!” he declares. “eat the orange whole! first to swallow it wins! you can’t spit it out!”

you wait. “is that it?”

“yes!”

why was the delivery so grand?

jeongin places a fond hand atop his brother’s head. “i’ve brought you a new loser, yoonie. get excited.”

you feign an indifferent scoff, but jeongin spots the fire that ignites behind your eyes like that of an anime protagonist, the resolute grip with which you palm your orange. he smirks. he’s never known you to take trash talk sitting down. or sitting cross-legged on his porch.

yoon counts you off. “ready…”

“good luck, coach,” jeongin sings.

“shut up, pipsqueak.”

“set…GO!”

in amusing unison, you and yoon try and fail to fasten your teeth around even half of the fruit. jeongin, meanwhile, fits the whole thing into his black hole of an oral cavity and launches into that dumb cow impression again.

desperate times call for desperate measures.

you rip the orange from your lips. “yoon! your brother’s ticklish, right?”

both yang siblings’ eyes widen—the younger’s in growing delight, the older’s in impending horror.

the latter reacts first. “ay, ay, ay, ah ahes eh ooles!” (translation: wait, wait, wait, that’s against the rules!)

but the former moves first, and you’re right behind him.

jeongin weakens when the younger boy assaults his sides, crumples when you target the back of his neck, the sounds leaving his mouth getting progressively louder and somehow even less intelligible.

he eventually has to spit out the orange to avoid death by pulp going down the wrong pipe and spins around in indignation, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. but his annoyance—

you’re back on the floor, gnawing hopelessly at the the orange again. “ih ih eawahin, ooh.” (translation: this is embarrassing, yoon.)

yoon replies, “huh?” (translation: huh?)

—dissipates, immediately.

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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

Text

do you believe me now?

in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)

part two

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!

“You’re so pretty.”

It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues.

“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”

You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong.

His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“…I do.”

It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs.

“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”

The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface.

Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”

Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.

“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”

That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more.

“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”

“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”

Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment.

“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”

“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable.

“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness.

“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”

His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak.

“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”

A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you.

“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”

“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”

He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down.

“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”

“Sex?”

You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!”

He laughs again, a little less reserved this time.

“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”

“No! Too scary!”

Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder.

“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”

“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”

“That’s impossible.”

Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.”

His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could.

“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”

The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs.

“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”

When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips.

“I sleep with my eyes open.”

“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”

You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”

“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”

“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”

“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”

———————————————

Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade.

Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt.

“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin.

“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.

“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“

“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”

Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh.

“I did not get all weird.”

“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”

He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”

Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”

And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles.

“Now you’re getting brave?”

“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders.

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”

The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements.

“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg.

“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly.

“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”

A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs.

“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”

“Is that what happened?” he teases.

“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents.

Almost.

“Slow down.”

He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed.

“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”

His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention.

“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him.

Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm.

“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”

His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him.

“Okay.”

A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back.

Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”

Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them.

“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again.

“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”

You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—

“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”

Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”

It works for him.

When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good.

Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips.

“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice.

“You’re sensitive, huh?”

“S—sometimes.”

He hums contemplatively.

“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”

You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum.

“About what?”

“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine.

The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.

“You.”

“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”

Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.

“Really?”

“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?”

You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”

“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”

You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again.

His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”

“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you.

A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away.

“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet.

“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes.

“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it.

“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”

But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message.

Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky.

“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”

It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort.

Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh.

“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly.

His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile.

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”

“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily.

“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”

Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly.

“Then we both did it right.”

“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”

Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”

The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy.

“Because I can’t have you all the time.”

“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”

“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids.

He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin.

“You’re shockingly precocious.”

You hum.

“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”

He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”

“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you.

He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;

I love you

I love you.

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