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#might turn this into a print one day....
linktoo-doodles · 1 month
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tangible in my arms
gif process!
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alchemiclee · 7 months
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xiao bird is born!
get 3d print file here
painted by me
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kellystar321 · 8 months
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.
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bending-sickle · 15 days
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if i had a printer i would be unstoppable
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thethirdtriplet · 24 days
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Headcanon for the Bats:
The Bats are absolute menaces to society, in their own weird and unique ways.
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Dick refuses to be referred to as anything but “Dick” when in public with his family or even his friends, so no, he will not be referred to by his legal name or any of his common nicknames, but any and all variations or nicknames for “Dick” (Dickie, Dikehead, ect…) are acceptable:
It almost makes Dick a little too happy when any of his siblings yells “Dick” in a crowded room or public place.
One woman actually yelled at Dick and his siblings for their language, that is, until he informed her that Dick is his name. She was so embarrassed she turned a deep shade of red and she apologised.
Dick tried to hide his smirk because he's an absolutely horrible person. His siblings are not impressed, and refuse to admit that it’s kinda funny.
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On Father’s Day, Bruce receives a multitude of gifts from his children (whether legal, emotional or biological), as a joke he has to receive at least one gift that has “worst parent ever” on it, from one of them. And while he loves all of the gifts (gag gifts or sentimental) equally, he still has his favourites:
Bruce might enjoy the utter horror and unease a little more than necessary as he uses the thermos Jason bought him for Father’s Day with the words “worst dad ever”, printed on the front, in bright red for all to see.
He is currently forced to endure attending yet another board meeting when one -brave but stupid- new board member made a rather rude comment about how Bruce’s kids shouldn’t disrespect him with such gifts. Which prompts Bruce to go on a tirade about how he should mind his own business, and never speak about any of his kids like that. It got so bad, and he was so furious, that none of the other board members mentioned that the meeting would be ending soon. By the end of Bruce’s speech, their time was up and the meeting had to end.
Not that Bruce was finished. The next day, to work, bruce wore the bright blue tie Dick had gotten him, holding the mug Tim got him that had “Not the best parent, but I am trying my best.” printed on it. And he has continued to wear the things his kids buy him to work, without fail.
No one mentions anything about his clothing choices or the mugs (yes, mugs because there’re multiple mugs with equally concerning words printed on all of them), because if they do, he will go on a tirade about his kids and how much he loves them, and no work will get done.
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eddiesghxst · 8 months
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eddie throwing his back out giving you everything he has and ofc it hurts like a bitch the next day and he wants you again and again and again
🫶
ITS GIVING OLDER EDDIE HELLO
18+ — MINORS DNI
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the next morning eddie’s making breakfast and he dramatically groans whenever he reaches up to grab something from the cabinets until you finally crack and ask, “what’s wrong, baby?”
he just jokingly glares at you and goes, “you destroyed my back, that’s what’s wrong. the last time i had this much sex was in my twenties, i’m not equipped for this.” he grumbles, reaching back to rub at his lower back.
you roll your eyes, stepping forward to slink your hands around his waist, pressing your body up against his back and kissing the bare skin between his shoulders, “for what it’s worth, even though you’ve got a shitty back, your refractory period makes up for it,” you joke, patting his stomach and kissing his back once again, pressing a smile into his skin when he grunts in response.
“don’t have much of a choice, do i? i’ve got a succubus for a girlfriend.”
you hum, “that’s weird, last i remember it was you asking for one more round, wasn’t it?”
you stretch onto the tips of your toes to rest your chin against his shoulder to peer down at his skilled hands hard at work preparing your meal, and eddie doesn’t bother glancing at you as he responds, “not sure, things start to blur after the third big-O.”
you hum as a teasing smile spreads across his lips, “whatever you say, big guy.” you playfully nip at his shoulder and he hisses, batting you away as you giggle, turning to lean against the counter beside him so you’re facing him, “when you’re done with this, come and i’ll give you a massage for your achey old man back, hm?”
eddie glances away from his task to look at you, “that pretty little mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble.”
you tilt your head with a sly grin, voice smooth and sultry as you speak, “is that a threat, musnon?”
eddie let’s out an exasperated noise and looks at you with narrowed eyes, “can a man cook in peace, please? or at least without you trying to get in my pants like i’m some harlot,”
you raise your eyebrows and motion down to his crotch, the unmistakable print of his hardening length pressing against the seam of his sweatpants, “seems like he enjoys it.”
eddie playfully shoves you away then, muttering for you to get out of the kitchen and you giggle, yelping when he swats at your behind, “ow! what was that for?” you whine, rubbing at your sore cheek. eddie grins, dicing a few onions and dropping them onto the stove, “for being such a goddamn minx. get out of here before i accidentally set this house on fire.”
and even though his back hurts like hell, he still ends up drilling your shit, but you have to take over midway because eddie’s poor back really might just croak on him and he swears if that happens, you’re paying for his medical bill <3
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ozzgin · 4 months
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Request/Idea-
Male Yandere Lawyer x Female Embroider Reader (a lady who works as a tailor is fine too)
Imagine a man falling head over heels for that newly employed lady who hand embroiders beautiful handkerchiefs in a luxury shop he visits to get his custom suits! And he just trying to coax her into dating him, marrying him, and becoming his stay at home wife (and mother of his children eventually) 🥰🤭
Age difference? I need some DILF Daddy energy more in my life (but don’t make him an actual father…yet)
P.S. I adore your OCs and writing. And your artwork is way too fucking good! You’re art is just *chef’s kiss* infuckingcredible
-👘
Ooh, you know what this reminds me of? I have a yaoi volume from Scarlet Beriko, “Queen and the tailor”, about an interior designer that visits a legendary tailor whose suits will supposedly help you achieve success. The tailor turns out to be a scary looking, blunt man but nonetheless extremely talented. I liked the premise a lot, so it’s definitely interesting to try out a different perspective.
In this case I have the image of a patient, soft-spoken reader and a hurried, short tempered lawyer. Comically different but in a way that eventually works out, you know? Also thank you for the kind words!
Yandere!Lawyer x Embroiderer!Reader Headcanons
Featuring a Reader that is blissfully unaware the lawyer she just stared dating has their entire life together already sorted out.
Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, obsessive behavior
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Your eyes begin to hurt mildly, so you look out the window and blink repeatedly, trying to refresh your poor sight. Such detailed works always strain you terribly, but you love seeing the finished result. Others must, too, given your handkerchiefs are often sold out the very same day. Right before your needle pierces the silk canvas anew, the door opens with a burst and you jolt. An older man in a suit, arguing loudly over the phone. He’s drumming his fingers over the counter, eyes darting around in search for an attendant. You know the type quite well, so you hurry over with the hoop still in your hand. “Might I help you with anything?” You mouth discreetly. He turns to you, stares for a couple of seconds, and promptly ends his call.
Out of all the places, he certainly didn’t expect regretting his rusty, unpolished flirting skills in a luxury tailor shop. Yet here he is now, clumsily mumbling something about his new suit he’s come to pick up and wondering how to connect that with your number. The name’s the easy part, as it’s neatly and conveniently printed out on the little badge pinned to your collar. Everything else, not so much. You excuse yourself and return moments later with his order. Shit. You tilt your head, confused by the delayed response, worrying whether you forgot something. Next time. He’ll figure it out for sure next time he comes here.
If there’s one good thing about his career, it’s that his eyes have been trained to spot every detail. For example the embroidery hoop you gently held while speaking to him, so he knows exactly what his next custom order will be. Truth be told, he didn’t anticipate your popularity and long waiting times, but a calculated raised tone with a sprinkle of intimidation has convinced the employee to assign him to you as earliest priority. Whether he can flirt remains to be seen, but arguing with others? Child’s play.
“Thank you for coming again today.” You bow slightly and extend the gift bag. “Although, I must say…I’ve never seen you using these before. What has caused your sudden interest in handkerchiefs?” Rather bold of you to begin such conversations, but your curiosity is too great. No matter how hard you try, you can’t imagine why a blunt, nonchalant man like him would abruptly become passionate about embroidery. A lover? You smile faintly at the idea. Whoever it is, they’ve taken quite the challenge upon themselves. The lawyer frowns at the inquiry. It seems you’re just as observant as him. Maybe this shall be the pretext he can finally cling onto. So he presents it in the factual truth you’d hear in a courthouse: it’s his excuse to see you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Well now, isn’t it just silly? He could’ve simply asked. Buying countless expensive handmade items instead of plainly confessing his intentions…He stumbles, flustered. The same man whose ruthless reputation has even reached your humble ears is anxiously awaiting your response with a deep blush on his face.
The childlike innocence doesn’t last long. You’ve agreed to date him and that’s great, but he’s a man with little time that has known exactly what he wants for many years. When he laid his eyes on you he didn’t imagine cheesy coffee dates as you discuss your favorite color and cautiously breach the topic of intimacy. What’s the point? He’s already certain he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. Skip the unnecessary steps. On the other hand, you’re not as cooperative as he’d wish. Truly, the tangible proof that opposites attract. You’re always calm and take your time with everything. It’s almost frustrating how easygoing you are. When asked when you’re moving in with him, you just smiled and wondered out loud what could be wrong with your small studio above the shop. Marriage? Good question, you never thought about it.
Oh, the irony. Last time a client was being particularly difficult, your lawyer boyfriend pulled him out by the collar under the mortified stares of the other attendants and shoppers. The exact attitude he himself would’ve shown before, yet this time it’s different. Of course it is, it involves you. His thin patience runs out if it’s you. That’s all there is to it. Can you blame a man for following his heart? They say you should always chase your dreams; he prefers hunting them down efficiently, and the shotgun is pointed in your direction. His sweet, exquisite prey he can never get enough of.
Finally you agree to move in with him. Your hesitation was maddening and he’d started coming up with downright psychotic alternatives to convince you, such as your studio burning down after a vicious attack of some unknown hooligans. So it was rather wise of you not to push someone that knows the law like the back of his hand, even if you aren’t aware of it yet. He enthusiastically guides you around your new forever home, omitting unimportant details. The spare office he emptied for a future nursery? You’ll get to that later.
He can’t wait to spoil you. See, that’s the advantage of dating an older man. He���s gotten his life sorted out a long time ago. All that was left was finding you. You just need to be a darling and behave. He knows you will. After all, you’re his talented little embroideress that won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.
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sugarlywhispers · 2 months
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☆– a.n; here's a lil piece for valentine's day, even tho it was yesterday <3
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Your first kiss with Bakugou was nothing like you expected. You thought, because of his fiery personality, that it was going to be fireworks and heat and passion all over. 
How wrong you were.
Bakugou Katsuki was a massive bundle of nerves, completely clumsy even in his walk–and Jesus, seeing that big mass of muscles trip on his own feet each two or three steps in your walk home from your date, gave you several heart attacks thinking he might kiss the ground at any minute. 
You were not expecting this at all. He was so confident when it came to his job, to his friends, to any situation he was in. Except you. Least to say, it took him for-fucking-ever to ask you out, and when he did, he stumbled upon his words and instead of asking you dinner he asked you, "would you like t'go hungry wit' me?" It took you a minute to understand, he almost backed down due to the embarrassment. Obviously, you grabbed his arm, avoiding him to run away –or better said, explode himself away– and said yes. That night, at the door of your apartment, he tried to kiss you. He bumped his forehead with yours in the rush to get his face closer down to you. He apologized and left.
You remember thinking, that was all. He was not going to speak to you ever again, or at least until his embarrassment backed down a bit, which could be months. It surprised you to see him the next morning entering the little coffee shop you owned with a bucket of roses in his hand, cheeks cutely tinted pink and a funny scowl in his face, lips slightly pout.
You decided then that it was your turn to ask him on a date. Of course, he said yes. But this time, you decided to eat something at your apartment and watch movies. Something easy and comfy. No need to let the pressure of going outside invade him, considering who he is and what it means to be seeing outside on a date with the Number Two Pro Hero. You still didn't know how people hadn't already said something about your first date, when Bakugou took you to a very expensive and recognized restaurant.
After dinner, clearly prepared by him and shared in between cheeky jokes, laughs and innuendos, you were finishing washing the dishes while he dried them. It was that domestic kind of view, him smiling relaxed and amused, his big hero body taking a big portion of space in your small apartment kitchen, his hip resting on the counter, hands busy with his task, the lines at the corner of his eyes showing how happy he actually felt, it was all of him that made you realize…
It’s him.
Bakugou Katsuki is the one.
When he finished, he folded the cloth he was using to dry the last plate and placed it on the counter behind him, before he turned to you, the amusement of the last funny thing you said still printed on his face. “What?”
“I’m going to kiss you, Bakugou Katsuki, so don’t move.” You don’t want a repentance of last time and the bump he left on your forehead thanks to his nervousness.
He visually gulped and you chuckled, but still gave him time to assimilate your words, and your actions, so you moved slowly as if it was a scaredy cat you were dealing with. His breathing was loudly heard with each movement of yours and his hands grabbed the counter strongly like his life depended on that grip. He was serious now, concentrated even in not moving. And that was so cute, that even if he looked that desperate to get close to you, he also wanted to do as you said.
You stepped closer, hand coming to rest just above his heart, and his chest loosened. Katsuki let go of his anchor at the kitchen counter and slipped his hands around your waist immediately and tugged you against him, brushing your noses together. Choosing to dive into whatever ocean you were living as a siren in.
 “If you don’t want to…”
Oh, yeah. You were going to make him say it. Because he was Bakugou freaking Katsuki and you were on fucking cloud nine at the knowledge that he wanted you as much as you wanted him.
“If you don't kiss me right now…” he murmured, voice trembling, and you couldn't avoid the smirk that appeared on your face.
“Then what?” You whisper, your other arm surrounding his neck as your fingers interlace with the short hair at the back of his head, and he breathes out loud.
“Then I'll… I’ll have to do it myself.”
You looked up at him through your eyelashes, smiling one more time, before your lips finally pressed over his. This time softly, generously and carefully loving.
His arms around your waist tightened just as his heart beated fast and strong under your hand. A clear sign that he was as human as you. And he felt as deep into you as you to him.
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sunderwight · 23 days
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Okay, concept:
Luo Binghe grew up very poor prior to arriving to QJP. And when he first got to QJP, he was ostracized and neglected. So there are probably a lot of phrases, terms, and ideas that he didn't know were things until SY arrived and started actually teaching him. Right? So the bulk of what he did learn, he learned directly from Shen Yuan's own slightly messy attempts to fake ancient scholarly credentials.
Plus, QJP is supposed to be the peak of scholars and well-read, fancy intellectuals, and YQY probably also doesn't know shit about most of that stuff (having also been a former illiterate street child) and of course is incredibly predisposed to take Shen Qingqiu's side on virtually anything. Especially something frivolous or linked to their shared past, such as someone, say Qi Qingqi, accusing Shen Qingqiu of making up a literary reference or "gibberish" word. If something Shen Qingqiu says is something no one else seems to know, that just proves he's more worldly and well-read than the rest of his peers. Also, Shang Qinghua will probably know it, and despite his many (many) character flaws, Shang Qinghua reads a lot too. There's really very little to convince a former street child turned Demon Emperor whose former education began and ended with Shen Qingqiu specifically and Meng Mo (wildly out-of-touch with human culture anyway) to suspect that some of the difficult-to-source references his master makes really have no worldly source (in this world).
So Luo Binghe, in his quest to become as knowledgeable of all things about his shizun and keep up with him as well as possible, and maybe also put down some arguments he's overheard once and for all, eventually gets annoyed because CLEARLY there is a wealth of cultural knowledge contemporary to Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua that didn't survive to his own generation. His efforts at hunting down all the sources being referenced and origins of certain philosophical ideas or terminology keep coming up empty in certain departments. He's been over the entire QJP library with a fine-tooth comb, but QJP focuses on things pertaining to cultivation, history, and knowledge. Obviously, there are gaps. The archives are unlikely to keep pop cultural references and lowbrow literature, and Luo Binghe begins to suspect (from what tastes his master seems to share with his shishu) that that is that actual source he's missing.
The trashy yellow books and romance literature of their generation! Bawdy poems and lewd artworks so on! Heck, that's probably even where the shared "code" (bad English) comes into play -- disciples are always trying to sneak forbidden material past their teachers and smuggle naughty books into the dormitories. Knowing Shizun and Shang Qinghua, Luo Binghe honestly wouldn't be surprised if the two of them were racketeering that shit in their own disciple days. Shang Qinghua acquiring materials, Shen Qingqiu acquiring buyers, both of them making their extra spending money off of secretly supplying Cang Qiong's population with contraband fiction and art.
Also, that would explain why both Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua get flustered and refuse to elaborate if someone asks them what this or that strange turn of phrase refers to. Shen Qingqiu has a very thin face for actually discussing erotica, and Shang Qinghua doesn't like being caught doing illegal shit.
Luo Binghe desperately needs access to trash lit that's older than he is. However, most of that stuff is not printed to last, and turning it up is like trying to find old Spirk zines without the internet.
Shang Qinghua, the obvious go-to source, also seems to not really have anything that old anymore (intimidating him is laughably easy, if he had anything he would have coughed it up by the second or third time Luo Binghe asked and frowned at the same time), and if Shen Qingqiu did have anything he wouldn't want to be questioned about it. Asking too much might even get it destroyed in an act of excessive embarrassment.
Which means there is just one other person Luo Binghe knows who might be able to lead him to some sources. One other person he is absolutely, 100% certain was extensively reading trashy literature around the same time that Shizun was a young man. Someone who would know where to go to even begin looking for it.
Luo Binghe is going to have to ask Tianlang Jun for help with something.
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vixstarria · 7 months
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"Where my nice, simple plan fell apart"
This is my take on how Astarion’s romance might have progressed with a silly, chaotic energy bard Tav, who doesn’t really fall for his initial manipulation but rather humours it, throughout Act 1.  
There will be more – I want to flesh this out and write more ‘behind the scenes’ moments, and continue this into Acts 2 and 3 (I’m still only at the beginning of Act 2 as I write this!) 
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav  
Comfort, fluff, budding love, cuddling, humour, no spoilers, non-explicit, light angst 
Approximately 2,000 words. 
~~~~~
“Let’s find our own little piece of nowhere. Somewhere we can lose ourselves and forget all this madness.” 
“Astarion, you insufferable trollop, what piece of cheap pulp did you fish that line from?!” you squeezed your eyes shut, pinching the bridge of your nose. “No, wait, let me guess... Madame Scarlett?” 
You watched his face turn from indignation to irritation, to finally settle in a resigned amusement, in a rapid succession.  
“My, a fellow connoisseur of the vulgar arts? The Madame’s been dead and out of print for over a century. But yes.” 
“A professional interest – a bard must be able to entertain all kinds of audiences, with all kinds of material” 
“And would you indulge me with your expertise tonight? But I do much prefer show to tell...”.  
This was the beginning. You did end up sleeping with him that night, despite his initial soppy attempt at seduction. And then it happened again another night. And then it kept happening... 
You tried to be discreet about it at first, but of course it wasn’t long before the other members of your party noticed your nightly disappearances, and there was no point trying to conceal it.  
You were vexed by their reactions – just about everyone found it necessary to at one point pull you aside and express their concerns about the vampire, asking you to be careful. This was, perhaps, justifiable – Astarion was admittedly quite stab-happy and had an inclination for bloodthirst (literally and figuratively). But he was on your side! And damned if you needed anyone’s approval for your choices in whom to bed! 
By that point you and Astarion had turned the cliched language of poorly written erotica novels into an inside joke. Casually addressing each other in increasingly mawkish and over-elaborate terms had turned into a game. Once the secret of your escapades was out, you weaponised this game, turning it to deliberately exasperate everyone around you with your antics. 
With your shared penchant for dramatic flair the two of you became utterly insufferable.  
You would shout corny names at each other across camp: 
“Oh precious, it’s your turn to set up the campfire! And no, I don’t care that you won’t be eating with us” you called out as the group stopped for the day to set up camp, but no answer followed. “My silver lynx..? Starry?? Snickerdoodle??” 
“Your snickerdoodle wandered off to slaughter another bear!” came an exasperated shout from Wyll. 
Strangers weren’t safe from your hijinks either:  
“My sun, my beating heart, flame of my loins, ache of my head. All my riches, at your feet”, he declaimed to you in front of a confused and embarrassed vendor, as he rummaged through and shook out his pockets and sleeves, spilling an assortment of semi-precious gems, silver cutlery and somehow even an entire silver tray, pilfered from an abandoned manor you came across earlier. 
Just to make the others uncomfortable, you would unceremoniously plop into Astarion’s lap at any given opportunity, including in your morning meetings to establish your itinerary for the day.  
One evening, as you all sat around the campfire to enjoy a shared meal, Astarion (who would ordinarily stay away during this time, or sit nearby with a book) sank down next to you, lifted your hand towards his mouth, and nonchalantly sank his fangs into your wrist and began to suck, slurping.  
“Oh, so I can’t enjoy a nice meal with everyone else, and have to be excluded? Bigots, the lot of you!” he chided, your blood dripping from his lips, to the sound of everyone’s shouts of shocked revulsion. Surprisingly, this was the closest you’d ever seen Lae’zel come to laughing.  
(You and Astarion had arranged this prior, of course. Ever the gentleman, he always asked before he bit.) 
Another night, as you were having a quiet chat with Shadowheart at her tent, while everyone else lounged at the fire, she asked: “So what is it like with him, really..? How is he?” 
Suddenly finding yourself abashed by this genuinely intimate question, you covered it up with pomp and bravado. Winking at Shadowheart, you stood up, threw your head back and began to orate, making sure your thundering voice would be heard by the fire, which you had been separated from by a distance and some bushes: 
“HIS MAGESTIC MANHOOD, WHEN UNSHEATHED, IS AN OBELISC OF MASCULINITY AND GLORY. IT IS A WONDER BIRDS DON’T CRASH INTO IT WHEN IT IS FULLY E- Ow! Who threw that?!” 
A projectile salami from your camp supplies came flying from behind the bushes, and slammed into the side of your face.  
All hell was breaking loose back at the campfire, as Wyll, Gale and a smug Astarion convulsed and shouted through poorly concealed laughter, blaming each other for the missile, as Karlach shook in hysterics and Lae’zel complimented the mystery thrower’s accuracy.  
Gale did look more sheepish than the rest once you started to develop a black eye from the impact, promptly healed by Shadowheart.  
What was it like with him? 
Despite the flowery epithets and exaggerated displays of affection you awarded each other in public, in private you had a mutual understanding that it was all frivolous, no strings play. You had a parasite that could turn you into a mind flayer at any given moment, twisting in your brain. Every day bore violent encounters. Since the nautiloid crash, you hadn’t gone a single day without something trying to murder you. You didn’t want to have to worry about anything other than survival, and you took life day by day. Distractions were welcome, but actual romantic attachment would be a burden, you told yourself. 
You thought of it as being friends with extended benefits.  
You let him feed (well, snack, really) on you, of course. It wasn’t sexual, not since the first night. He used your wrist, so as not to be overwhelmed by the blood flow. He ended the sessions by healing you himself, assisted by a magical trinket he’d picked up somewhere on your journey. You made sure not to let Gale get his hands on that one.  
In battles his arrows always picked off foes in your immediate vicinity, before they were directed to other targets. You’ve yelled at him for this, saying you were more than capable of holding your own, whilst you’d lost count of the revivify scrolls you’ve spent on Gale.  
“Yes, well, the way the man goes on about his ‘natural talents’ and ‘mastery of the weave’, you’d think he’d put that big wise brain of his to developing a strategy for not getting stabbed so often” - Astarion rolled his eyes. “I’m just encouraging him to improve, really. And besides”, his eyes narrowed, “only I’m allowed to spill your blood, darling”. You frowned at that last bit, as he flashed you a sweet and almost innocent smile, and stalked off.   
As for the other ‘benefits’ - the sex was intricate, if somewhat mechanic, almost too skillful on his behalf. Wanting more passion than efficiency, you eventually asked him to talk dirty to you. That made it nearly too intense for you to handle, and seemed to keep him more... personally engaged. During daytime you had to force yourself not to get caught up in flashbacks of his red eyes watching you writhe as he described what he was doing to you, what he was going to do to you, or how you looked while he worked your body. 
The night that you, wanting to reciprocate, asked him exactly how he wanted to be pleasured and what he liked was a fiasco. You didn’t understand why. First he said something about being able to please you being his greatest reward and satisfaction (which you immediately shut down). Then he grew flustered and irritated, becoming uncharacteristically at a loss for words. You tried to divert the conversation, but the mood was unsalvageably ruined.  
There was one takeaway from that debacle, however. After abandoning the idea of sex for the night, you laid next to each other, talking about nothing in particular: Baldur’s Gate, places you were both familiar with, comforts you were looking forward to having again. At one point he looked at his jacket, which you’d been lying on, and lamented that he couldn’t find any gold thread to fix the embroidery. You laughed and rolled over to give him a hug, and simply never let go. He wordlessly pulled you closer once it was clear you had no intention of leaving. That was the first time that you fell asleep and slept through the night in his arms. 
This became somewhat of a ritual, or another game with unspoken rules. Once you were done with each other, you’d pretend to quickly fall asleep with your face nested in the crook of his neck, or to otherwise be too exhausted to get up and make way to your own tent or bedroll. He pretended not to notice the regularity with which this was happening. You pretended not to notice the soft kisses he started leaving on your neck or forehead once he thought you were really asleep. It seemed... important, somehow, that you both pointedly refused to acknowledge any of it. You sensed that otherwise a certain line would be crossed. 
Last night, you were too exhausted to even think of anything but sleep by the time everyone started turning in for the night. Yet rest wasn’t even on the horizon for you – you remembered that you’d neglected to clean your weapons and carry out the well overdue maintenance on your equipment, which you did not allow anyone else to touch even when offered. You were planning to venture into the shadow-cursed lands the following day. You couldn’t afford to be sloppy. You begrudgingly set about your tasks. Astarion was as tired as everyone else, you figured it was needless to say you’d spend the night apart. And yet...  
“I guess I finally get my bedroll all to myself tonight, how delightful” you heard behind you. “No one to wrap themselves around me, no one nuzzling into my neck... Only free, undisturbed personal space” You heard a hint of dejection beneath the sarcasm, and something in your stomach flipped, giving you pause.  
“I’ll come back for a cuddle if you say please” you murmured over your shoulder. 
“Never!” he rasped in a perfect imitation of Lae’zel when you asked the same of her before freeing her from a tiefling cage, and disappeared into his tent. 
Over an hour later, as you collapsed into your own bedroll, you saw a pair of red eyes staring at you from across the camp, tent flap ajar. You held Astarion’s gaze.  
“Please”, he mouthed soundlessly, smiling as he lifted the edge of his blanket.  
Within moments, you slipped into his embrace, pressing your lips against his. But his kisses were gentle and feather light, lacking the usual persistent neediness.  
You pulled away from him, locking eyes as he softly ran his hand down your cheek, brushing your lower lip with his thumb. 
“Gods, you’re beautiful” he breathed. 
That night he fell asleep with his head against your chest, listening to the sound of your heartbeat.  
Your breath caught in a silent sob as you were overwhelmed by a bittersweet realization of how much you really stood to lose if you failed in the journey still ahead of you. You didn’t think you’d ever felt happier or more miserable before in your life, as you hugged him tighter. 
~~~~~
Next in series
AO3
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moonhoures · 6 months
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Beautiful
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🕷️ kinktober — day 24: praise kink🕸️
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pairing: jaehyun (nct) + reader (g/n *)
genre: non-idol!au, smut, fluff
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, praise, dry humping, unprotected sex, penetration, sloppy making out, couch sex, creampie, (* i did mark this as a gender neutral fic but the reader is described as wearing a dress so yeah just wanted to include that! *)
word count: ~1k
synopsis: your bf is upset that no one at the costume party you went to recognized your cosumtes 💔
posted: october 28, 2023
kinktober masterlist
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“Baby, don’t be like that.”
Your boyfriend shook his head, trudging into your house with heavy, sad steps before plopping onto the couch. You held back a chuckle at his overdramatic pout and crossed arms. He was currently upset because you two had gone to a Halloween party, dressed up as the 1996 version of Romeo and Juliet from the Baz Luhrmann movie. Jaehyun was the one who had came up with the idea, and he was really excited when your costumes came out fairly accurate to the film. However, he was devastated all throughout the night when partygoer after partygoer failed to pinpoint the characters you were portraying.
“Our costumes were dumb,” he sulked, picking up the TV remote in hopes of distracting himself with whatever show was on.
“They were not dumb,” you assured him, “They’re cute! And it’s not like no one knew who we were. Johnny and Mark knew!”
“I told Mark what costumers we were doing, and Johnny was the one who went shopping with me,” he retorted, the furrow in his brow only deepening as he continued to be upset. “Everyone thought I was a tourist.”
“Well, I think our costumes were amazing. It’s not our fault nobody in the room has good taste in movies like you,” you tried to make him feel better, and as the down-turned front of his eyebrow lifted, you thought it might be working, “Honestly, I’d rather have a great costume that no one recognizes than be the hundredth Harley Quinn and Joker couple.”
He laughed softly at that, “They did have a lot of those. That movie came out years ago.”
“And how many Romeo and Juliets were there?”
“None,” he replied, a satisfied smile on his lips. He looked up at you, and he reached his hand out for yours, holding it, “Thanks, ________.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Jae. Besides, I think you look really hot in this outfit,” you confessed, your other hand reaching up to the collar of his Hawaiian print shirt. Your fingers fiddled with the top button, and neither of you seemed fazed when it just so happened to pop open.
“Yeah?” he asked, eyes now trained on the plump of your lips, the remnants of your lip gloss still making them shiny.
“Yeah.”
“You look gorgeous too. I like this little halo,” he further proved his point by nudging the halo headband above your head with his finger, making it wobble. You giggled along with him, and then his hand was on your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss.
The kiss turned hot and heavy in moments; suddenly you were straddling his lap. His hands found purchase on your ass and thighs, fingers gripping onto you and sliding the already short hem of your dress up. Low groans of gratification and wanton whines were muffled through your tongues and lips. Your hips shifted rhythmically over your boyfriend’s, emitting deep, guttural moans from his throat.
“Fuck yes, just like that,” Jaehyun spoke through gritted teeth when you grinded down on him and trailed open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Usually he would warn you about making hickeys, but right now he couldn’t find it in himself to care about that.
After a little more grinding and passionate, messy kissing, Jaehyun managed to get both of your underwear off and push his jeans down to the floor. You were going to straddle him again, but he maneuvered you so that you were lying on the couch. You let out a small whine about your halo bending before tugging it off and tossing it onto the floor. He hovered above you, pushing your leg up so that he could fit better between your thighs.
You sucked in a quick breath as he thrusted slowly into you for the first time, while he simultaneously let out a sigh that resembled a curse word you couldn’t quite make out. He had his head buried in your neck, hot breath making your collarbone warm.
“I’ll never get over how good you feel,” he said, “Every single time . . . is better than the last.”
You moaned, your hands wandering under the loose-fitting Hawaiian shirt he wore. It was hanging on by only a few buttons now, so you made quick work of unfastening them and tugging the shirt off of him completely while his thrusts never faltered, “Jae.”
“I know” when he didn’t get a response he said, “You keep squeezing me like that and I’m gonna cum. You want that?”
You couldn’t think of any words in the moment, too overwhelmed with your looming orgasm, so you simply nodded. He rested his forehead against yours, and as if on cue, you clenched down on his throbbing cock.
“Shit, ________,” he cursed, eyes screwing shut. His thrusts became deeper and a little faster; he moved with purpose, “You feel so good. Smell so good. Look so good. Fuck, you look beautiful. I don’t tell you that enough.”
“Jae,” you finally broke your silence, “Please.”
Finally, he shut up and focused on what he was doing. He drove his hips into yours with ardor. He littered kisses over your face, ending with your mouth where he drew you into another sloppy kiss. It was sloppy in the sense that it was full of tongues and teeth, but also because your mouth was parted for loud whimpers.
Jaehyun’s movements stuttered, and his grip on the couch tightened beside you, “Holy fu- I’m cumming.”
“I’m cumming,” he repeated, his words coming out broken up and whiney.
Spurts of his cum filled you up. Your leg hiked higher up on his hip. Your hands grasped onto his back, fingernails clawing at him as you felt your orgasm about to crash down on you.
“That’s it, fucking cum for me. Come on, baby,” even in the aftershocks of his own release, he urged you to chase your own, “You look so pretty when you cum, baby. Do it.”
So you did. You came with an exclamation of your boyfriend’s name as the familiar, orgasmic sense of euphoria settled over you.
“God, you look . . . so. Fucking. Beautiful.”
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— taglist #1
@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite @k-drizzle @iguanas-world
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rottenblur · 2 months
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Something new|A.ANDERSON
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(Request) 1.3k words| a valentines day fic:)
Summary: After a uneventful double date Abby makes it up to you in the best way she could think of.
Warnings: couch sex, abby eating whipped cream off your body, oral, (insecure reader???), fingering, first time oral with abby
Abby couldn't care any less about body hair. You think she even liked it. Your relationship with her was fresh but since you guys started dating and even before you were official she couldn’t take her hands off you.
Whenever you two were in public, her hands tightly around your waist she would tuck her hands into your shirts rubbing that little patch of hair going up your stomach.
When you decided to shave it one day with the rest of your body hair, as you thought shit was going to heat up with her that night. She took off your pants and looked slightly disappointed. It didn't cross your mind that she might like it till now.
The two of you had just got back from a friends house, you plop on the couch, throwing up your feet as they hurt from standing around for small talk for so long.
Abby tosses her coat onto the kitchen counter. “You have fun baby?” She asks you as she walks over to the couch. You shake your head, she tilts her head in response. “‘M exhausted, never knew someone could talk about wine for so long.” You say. She nods her head then separates your legs to tuck herself between them to lay on your chest.
“It’s obnoxious, they just sound snotty.” She says giving you a kiss on your clothed chest. “Did you have fun?” You ask, she turns her head to look at you. “I don’t know what I was thinking, taking you there for a valentines date, double dates aren’t it.” She laughs to herself, you join in.
You smile at her, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. “You can make it up to me.” She smirks at you. “Yeah? How?” She says and you shrug.
After hours of laying on the couch with her, you were starting to get worried that you were too forward with not liking your plans for today and that she was hurt. You decided to say something, you guys knew each other as all couples do but in fresh relationships in the past it’s hard to tell what hits a nerve and what doesn’t.
“Hey—“ She cuts you off before you can continue speaking. “Is it too late to go to the store?” She asks, you look at your watch and shake your head in confusion. She kisses you, gets off you to put on her coat and boots, she looks at you then grabs her keys.
“Be right back baby.” She opens the door and walks out. Was she upset about what you said, it’s not like there was anything the two of you needed right now.
You flip through channels on the tv anxiously waiting for her to return, like a dog waiting by the door for its owner. Everytime someone would walk in the hallway of your apartment complex you’d think it was her, getting excited then disappointed when you don’t hear the key jingle in the lock.
Finally after watching an episode or two of adventure time (a guilty pleasure of yours) the lock turns and she stomps off the snow on her boots. You sit up with excitement, she holds a plastic bag with the nearby grocery store’s logo printed on it.
“What’d you get?” You ask her. She smiles, “You’ll find out.” She said, you got up and walked towards her, trying to peek in the bag.
She places the bag onto the counter and turns you around, your back flush to her chest. She takes something out of the bag, you can feel her arm move as she shakes it. You feel a cold squirt of whipped cream be squirted on your neck, you flinch at the sudden coldness.
She leans down and sucks it off your neck, licking every last drop off. She mumbles into your neck. “I wanna try something new.” You nod, her kissing deep bruises into your neck.
She grabs your hand, pulling you to the couch and crawling on top of you, she puts the whipped cream can on the coffee table and works your shirt off. She squirts blobs from your neck down to your chest. “Is this the new thing you wanted to try?” You ask her, she sucks a blob of cream off your collarbone, leaving behind a purple patch behind and shakes her head.
“Sort of.” She moves her way down to your chest, sucking the cream of your nipple, you didn’t know if she knew what she was doing but she was definitely doing a lot.
“Abby..”. You say. She looks up at you. “What is it baby?” She asks you, you buck your hips into her stomach. “I need you.” You whine. She smirks at you, squirting a blob along your hips and sucking from one side to the other. She grabs at your waist band, as she slides down but you stop her.
“Are you okay?” She asks you. You nod. “I just, I didn’t shave so..” she tilts her head at you. “I don’t care baby, I just want to taste you, I don’t care about a little hair.”
You look at her in shock, you had never met someone who wanted to eat you out without being clean shaven. Abby had never eaten you out before, and you didn’t think she wanted the first time with you to be like this.
“Yeah okay, please.” You say and she sucks the last drop off you then removing your pants, you look away and she digs the fuck in.
You had never experienced something that was this good with their tongue ,and it just came as muscle memory to her.
She held your thighs as they tighten around her head, her tongue dancing around your clit as you feel your hips bucking into her face. She moves her hand to hold down your hips, her other arm moving to circling your slit with two fingers.
She plunges her fingers inside you forcing a moan out of you. “You can take it baby, you’re doing so good.” She pumps her fingers inside you, curving them to hit just the right spot.
You feel yourself edge right on the brink of unfolding, Abby’s words leading you there.
“Just like that doll, taking me so well.” Everytime she diss connected her lips from you to speak you felt the worst loss of your life but her words filled the lack of touch.
She speeds up her fingers, keeping a steady pace with her mouth till it hits you, all at once. You cum all in her mouth, on her fingers and it drips down her chin so beautifully. She looks up at you, looking you up and down at your fucked out face and quick breathing.
“Happy valentines baby.” She says and smiles at you, helping you sit up.
You smile back at her, giving her a kiss on her lips and a soft one on her neck. “Definitely the happiest one I’ve had, thank you.” You say to her, you give her a hug of appreciation, not just for the head but because of how wonderful she is. She knew you were having a rough day and made it impossibly better.
“Go get cleaned up, I’ll get you some clean clothes and water.” She smirks at you, as you walk off to the bathroom.
You try to calm your shaky legs as you fix your hair, you practically stumble to the mirror and when you look in all you could do is stare.
She had covered you from neck to thighs in hickeys, big sloppy purple hickeys. You wouldn’t be able to forget about this for at least a week due to the constant reminder all over your body.
Abby notices the silence and walks over to you, wrapping her arms around you and whispering in your ear.
“Gotta mark what’s mine.”
A/n: i lost my og draft of this aka I LOST THE REQUEST i trued to keep it as close to the request as i can. Happy valentines day
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dear-ao3 · 2 months
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well good day to all of you. i have a tale. a classified, certified absolute god tier disaster of a tale.
at the ripe hour of 6:45 am i was awoken from my slumber by a Noise. what sort of noise? you might be asking.
the sort of noise that usually accompanies my father getting up at the ass crack of dawn and trying not to turn on the tap loudly so that he doesnt wake us up.
for one blissful moment i thought that i was at home, in my bed, and all was right with the world.
and then i remembered that i live approximately four hours away from my parents and all is not right with the world.
so i did what any person would do. waited for the noise to go away.
but it did not.
so i investigated. in all my bleary eyed glory.
and found that my bathroom ceiling light was pissing.
not just a little either.
a severe, unauthorized amount of water was streaming out of my bathroom light fixture.
so after banging on katyas door and finding a bucket and throwing on a sweatshirt i dragged my tired ass down to the front desk and reported the tea as it were.
now one thing you need to know about our building is that it is old. the second thing you need to know about our building is that the maitenance guys (we call them the boys) are absolutely incredible, like tumblr funny guy posts but irl, however they take for fucking ever to respond to any situation.
this time though, nothing was in clear danger of exploding or lighting on fire. so we made some breakfast. drank some coffee. watched the bucket that we had put in the bathroom fill up with water. and we waited.
and waited.
and waited some more.
then i noticed that if you stepped on some of our kitchen floor tiles they started squelching.
so back downstairs i went and explained the tea as it were once again.
and let it be known, that i worked for two very solid and very miserable years as a resident assistant in college. i know all about the woes of people complaining to you to fix things that you cannot fix and you cannot tell them when it will be fixed because the person who needs to do the fixing is otherwise indisposed. so my general attitude towards this whole situation was "hey man you can't make this better for me and im really not pressed about it as long as someone eventually comes and sorts out my pissing ceiling." which is a great attitude to have in this general situation. and especially so because it was about to get even more strange.
at approximately 9:30am our apartment was graced by the presence of one of the boys. the maintenance man. we will call him james.
we have encountered james before. he delt with our fuse box nearly exploding. that situation was not nearly as chill as this one was.
hes also incredible.
so he comes in and he goes "hey how's it going" and i say "well you know things are just leaking!"
he proceeds to tell us that the fridge in the apartment above us had a connection pipe that froze and exploded some how and that managed to leak all into our apartment. not nearly what i was expecting but hey! at least they know what's going on!
we tell him about the squelching tiles and he says that he will bring us a dehumidifier after he turns off the water and deals with the mess of the fridge above us. we say ok great! this is wonderful!
and he goes to leave the apartment. out of habit i had locked the door when he entered. he goes "aw man did you lock me in?"
and i say
"oh sorry!"
and he pauses.
and he looks at our door in disbelief. perhaps even utter horror.
and this, my lovely audience, is what he was looking at:
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surprisingly. he was not staring at the entertainment for man and horse plaque that katya and i found while thrifting. nay. he was staring at the unfortunate combination of the printed photo of lando norris and max verstappens face.
now why are lando norris and ax verstappen on the back of my door? you might be asking. you might even be asking who they are.
and if youve been following the lore of this blog, you might recognize them as formula 1 drivers. lando norris of course being a mclaren driver and max verstappen being the reigning world champion of team red bull.
and how did they wind up on my door? well at christmas katya thought it would be funny to put a picture of lando norris on top of our christmas tree and so we got one printed at cvs but when you get wallet sized photos printed they print you four of them so we ended up with four of the same photo of lando. one went on the tree, one went to my sister, one is in our bathroom and now one is on the back of our door.
as for max. well. katyas partner drinks red bull and he was on the red bull box so we cut him out and stuck him there. neither of us are particularly big max fans, it was just funny.
but anyway. i digress.
james is standing there staring at this array of perplexing stuff and goes.
"really? him??"
and i go
"yeah..." not knowing what else to say.
and james turns. and he looks at us. and he goes. and i shit you the absolute fuck not.
"now what's wrong with lewis hamilton???"
(sir lewis hamilton being the mercedes f1 driver, 7 time world champion and absolute icon)
and katya and i go
"oh no no! we love lewis hamilton! we just respect him too much to put him on the door!"
which is true
and james goes "now what did you think of him going to ferrari?"
and i say "i thought it was an interesting choice"
and katya says "i was surprised."
and james says "you and me both" and then he shuts the door behind him.
katya and i look at eachother. and we both fall to the floor in fits of laughter.
let it be known that james has come face to face with a giant tapestry of mr worldwide mr 305 pitbull himself that is in our bathroom, on several occasions, and yet, he chooses to comment on our choice of formula 1 driver that is taped to the back of our door.
im still in a state of disbelief. my ceiling is still pissing. my floor is still squelching. and my maintenance man felt the need to call our my choice of formula 1 driver at 9:30 on a saturday morning.
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nymphomatique · 8 months
Note
I NEED MORE OF LOSER NERD MIGUEL PLEASEEEEE YOU'VE AWAKENED SOMETHING IN ME
ask and you shall receive they say! here’s some more word vomit 2 hold u over while the full fic is loading 🤭
cw: mean reader LOL she calls miguel a bitch, foot humping, spit, shoe licking🫣, d/s play, miguel is down horrendous, hair pulling. might have missed smt but oh well. also this isn’t proofread oops lolz. but enjoy!! 💋
in #my opinion i think that loser boy miguel is into the degrading stuff. like the more embarrassing it is for him the more it turns him on.
setting the scene for you: miguel is over at your dorm doing you online lab work for you on your laptop while you’re getting ready to go out. naturally you have on the skimpiest number, tits out, ass out, the body is hypnotic, the whole nine.
miguel steals glances of you because while you may be a little bit of a bitch sometimes, god were you beautiful. you catch him staring and sneer at him and it makes him blush and duck his head down once more to do his- your homework.
the finisher? the heels you put on. they’re patent black pumps, red bottoms naturally. and miguel absolutely loses it. he feels his dick start to twitch in his sweats instantly and is already blushing a furious red.
“what’s got you excited, dweeb?” you tease, putting on your earrings. “bet your little nerd dick got hard looking at me, huh.”
he doesn’t say anything and just blushes even more and you laugh because he really is hard! nerd or not, one thing you can’t deny is the meat miguel is packing. you could fit some fun for the two of you before your uber came, if you were fast that is.
“promise it’s not cus i’m a perv.. i swear.. you look nice. s’all.” miguel sputters under your intense gaze.
“yeah? what part of me do you think looks the nicest, hmm?” you say while sauntering over him. he looks down at your shoes silently and you see the tent in his pants twitch. “you got a fucking shoe fetish, freak?” you giggle.
“n-no! it’s not-” he tries but you’re already thinking of how to embarrass him.
“don’t lie to me. you like the mommy dom shit, huh? well, come hump mommies foot.” you say standing only two feet away from where he’s sitting on the bed. he stares up at you with his glasses widening his already blown out eyes. “or don’t. i don’t have all day.”
with that he moves your laptop aside and strips down to his briefs. he makes his way to walk over to you but an idea strikes you. “crawl to me.”
and crawl he does, his tan skin and blooming back musculature making it’s way towards you on all fours.
“good boy. kiss my shoes and thank them before you start.” you say, your downcast gaze holding all the same authority and tension as your tone. he places both of his hands on the floor and begins to lower his lips to your shoe, his full lips making contact with your shoe.
“t-thank you, mistress, f- for letting me use your shoe to get off.” he says shakily, eyes averting your gaze. your mouth pulls into a small smile at his pathetic display. you almost laugh.
“i’m pleased. you may begin.” and miguel wastes no time, his swollen dick making itself seen in his boxer print. once again, you find yourself impressed at the heavy dick miguel packs. you figure it was probably given to him in place of a backbone. he scoots until his length is at the tip of your leather clad toes and he slowly begins to grind against your foot, letting out soft exhales of air.
“hurry up, i don’t have all day.” you spit, getting a little impatient at the time he’s taking. wordless, he speeds up his humping at your foot, his hand coming up to your leg, gripping your calf and the other hand placed palm down next to your foot to steady himself. as he speeds up, his moans come out louder and more frequently, his praises seeming to slip in with them.
you’re greatful for his height, because even on his knees, the top of his head reaches your lower stomach. you grab a fist full of his thick hair and jerk his head back so he can face you, and his expression sends a wave of heat through you. his face is flushed, eyes watering, mouth open spilling out moans of “thank you, mistress, so g-good.. i’m your good boy.. wanna be good..”
“wanna be good, huh? open your mouth for me then,” and without hesitation, he opens his mouth to you, and you spit into his mouth, some hitting the corner of his lip. “close your mouth and swallow it, bitch boy.” ever so eager to follow instructions, he does with a sated expression on his face. your spit seems to have excited him more, considering he’s fully thrusting against your foot now.
“c-can i cum please mistress? it hurts so bad. n-need it please, need you. f-fuuuck,” his pleading makes something in your chest tighten, seeing the power you have over this six foot two hunk of musculature beneath you, jumping at your foot like a depraved animal. he’s looking up at you, your hand still present in his messy hair, and with a cruel smile, you allow him to cum. “cum for your mistress.”
with a few more thrusts, he releases a heavy moan and cums into his briefs, occasionally twitching during his come down. before he gets a chance to speak, you push him off your leg and place a shoe to his balls, pressing ever so slightly, releasing a pert whimper out of miguel. “you made a mess of my louboutins.” you say flatly. “clean them.”
he takes no time to get on his knees and begin to lick your heel clean of his semen. you laugh at the sight, and even more when you see he’s sporting the beginning of another erection.
“fucking pathic,” you chortle. with your uber outside, you push your heel against his forehead and begin to walk away to get your purse as if nothing happened. “finish my homework and get the fuck out, if i see you’re still here when i get back, you’re cleaning the soles of my shoes next.” and with that, you leave your dorm with miguel in his soiled underwear on your floor, and your shoes sporting a new shine.
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itsvelyria · 5 months
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"non-sexual acts of intimacy with the f1 boys"
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Charles Leclerc
being there for each other. after a bad race, you'll be right there in the garage waiting with open arms or his phone will be lit up with a bunch of messages from you. a bad day at work? he's running a bath with your favourite sandalwood bath salts and your fluffiest towel is hanging on the heated rack. he is one constant presence you can always count on to be there, to smile at you and tell you it's going to get better, and vice versa.
Carlos Sainz
he finds comfort in physical contact, that means his hands are either on your lower back guiding you through crowds, or on your thigh during midnight cuddles on the couch, or simply just interlaced with yours. his family and friends are used to him drifting away from them, weaving through people to drape his arms over your shoulders from behind in greeting. he likes the reminder that you are right there with him, grounding him.
Danny Ricciardo
he loves your mornings together. being an f1 driver doesn't get him a lot of days at home so when he does, he enjoys waking to daylight slipping through the cracks of the curtains and slipping out of bed to make coffee for two. the aroma wakes you up and when you pad into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes, he thinks he might be the luckiest man in the world to be able to witness it. oftentimes you two sit there in silence, just relishing in each other's presence and sharing a quiet moment.
George Russell
its the little things he brings back from every trip or every outing, the excuse of "it reminded me of you" rolling off his tongue. the chrysanthemums outside the flower shop he passed by, the strange pink shell he saw at the beach. he shows them to you with such pride, the tiny burst of happiness in his chest when you laugh and admire the present, turning it over in your hands. every present he gifts another reiteration of your significance in his life and just how often he thinks of you throughout the day. what could be more of an indication of love than that?
Lando Norris
children at heart, you two love teasing each other — his messy curls that are sticking up in all directions when he wakes or the light foam moustache on your upper lip from the cappuccino you just drank. but you never take it too far and he finds it easy to just be himself around you, to be able to laugh everything off. its the intimate level of comfort and understanding that shines through all your playful banter and jokes that makes him never want to leave your side.
Lewis Hamilton
he really loves hearing you talk, it's like music to his ears whenever you're telling him about the bus you missed or raving over your new favourite song. the man hangs onto your every word, letting them sink in as he gazes at you with lovestruck eyes. and he's always there with the perfect response — how to deal with a difficult client at work or just filing your words away in his album of you in his brain.
Max Verstappen
remembering the littlest most insignificant things about you. he got you a first print copy of your favourite book after 3 months together and since then, he's surprised you every so often at just how much he knows you. sometimes orders for you at cafes and restaurants because he knows exactly how you pick items on the menu. you once told him about how you hate cracked phone screens so he has a bunch of them in his drawer and changes them for you. the sight of him squinting while trying to line up your phone screen makes your heart swell with adoration.
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kombuuuu · 10 months
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Birthday Girl.
Earth42!Miles x Reader + Pavitr x Reader
“Happy Birthday, [Name].”
Headcanons and snippets C:
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i want to wife him
E42!Miles: Purple Pavitr: Orange You: Pink Rio Morales: Blue
Miles Morales:
Would wake you up with breakfast in bed
if it’s a day where he’s called in for a job he’ll fight Aaron on getting the day off for you
although, the fight wouldn’t last long
Aaron likes you too, so with a sigh and a pinch of his nose bridge, he concides
letting Miles have the day off but only with a promise of working him to the bone the next day over
he rolls his eyes but the smirk on his face makes his uncle scoff a laugh
so with breakfast in hand, he’s gently shaking you awake
whispering your name with the promise of food
your sleepy voice greeting him makes the butterflies in his stomach awaken
“[Name].. Wake up, Chiquita, I have breakfast.”
“Food? Hi, Miles.”
He smiles at your slurred words, and you peak your head from under your covers. Pulling yourself to sit up.
There’s a spread of breakfasts foods in front of you, all your favourites.
“Miles..”
“Happy Birthday, Mami.”
“I’m gonna kiss you.”
“I won’t stop you.”
Spoils you with gifts
literally anything he could’ve possibly seen that you even might have liked
designer shoes to match with him (Nike Airs)
Matching jewellery as well, literally adores matching with you
gets you a chain with his name on it and one with yours for himself
whether you like silver or gold he gets you some premium shit
likes the look of white gold so that’s what he got himself
would do genuinely anything you want him 2
takes you to your fav nail tech to get you both done
he lets you choose the colours but makes sure to include purple with his own
after he takes you shopping,
you tell him off
he literally already bought you so much
knows what he’s doing tho
“Miles!”
“Aye, ma. C’mere.”
“We’re not going in there.”
“Yes we are.”
He settles his hands along your waist, turning you towards the boutique.
“Miles— It’s expensive in—,”
“I have an opening booked for us.”
His monotoned voice dragged in your ear, a shiver in its wake.
“Wha— C’mon!”
“Don’t pout at me, Mami. Might have to take you home.”
“I’m not pouting—“
“Hi.”
“Hello Mr.Morales, Right this way, Please.”
“Mr.Morales..?”
take you both to a boutique to get you clothes for the night
let’s you try on any dress you want
you try and pick the ones that don’t look too pricey
he catches on pretty quick and ends up picking the dresses for you to try himself
makes you show off for him
likes how you look in expensive shit and makes it known
“Damn, ma. Gonna have to buy that one for a later date..”
“Baby, no event is going to come up anytime soon that big enough for a dress like this.”
“I’m a patient man.”
ends up getting something that complements both your nails and the matching jewellery
also buys the matching shoes
he had a huge thing for seeing you in heels, but if you prefer flats he’ll make the workers find you something
gets a suit for himself
he’s been here before so they know his measurements.
gets a simple white blouse, with a dark grey set, a matching waist coat with it. And a black tie to go with the black buttons on the waist coat and cuffs.
doesn’t really bother with shoes
just figured he’s gonna wear his normal shit
when checking out, he makes sure to distract you with talk on what he plans for the night
adding tidbits that have both you and the store clerk blushing
the poor clerk just trying to ring you up
He leant over to whisper in your ear, rather loudly for someone “trying” to be discreet.
“Can’t wait to take you home, Chiquita. Seein’ you all dolled up for me? Jesus..”
“Oh my god.”
“That’ll be—“
“I got it.”
The clerk handed you the bags quickly before printing the receipt and going to rush off.
“Thank you, Have a nice day.”
Miles’ rumbling chuckle made your knees weaken.
“Yeah, we will.”
Takes you home to get ready,
touching you the whole time you do your make-up
whether it’d be a hand smoothing down your shoulders, massaging you while you worked
or his grip on the expanse of your waist
or even his nails raking down your back, watching the goose bumps rise as he did, infatuated
eventually you were both ready
and it was late
he took you to a high end restaurant, Electric Lemon it was called
and when you walked in greeted by his family, mingling with yours
you might have teared up a bit
“Chiquita? You ok?”
“Mmha..”
“If it’s too much we ca—“
“No, Miles, I love it. I love you—,”
You turned to him, the small smile gracing his lips a rare but gorgeous sight.
“This is perfect, thank you.”
“Love you too, Mi Cielo.”
“Oh (Name)! Feliz cumple! No es linda? Miles hizo increible!”
“Oh! [Name]! Happy Birthday! Isn’t this so nice? Miles did amazing!”
“Momma, Please—“
'Oh! Y Aaron era tan secreto sobre lo que era -'
“Oh! And Aaron was all secretive about what it was—,”
She leaned close to you, whispering “-así supe que toda fue para ti”
“,—so I knew it was for you.”
She smiled sweetly at you while you giggled back. Thanking her for coming to see you. She waved you off, walking you an Miles over to Aaron as she spoke.
“No, no me das gracias. Tu eres mi hija. Sería un crimen no venir.”
“No, Don’t thank me. You’re my daughter, it’d be a crime to not show up.”
You glanced over to Miles, seeing the sincerity behind his eyes when watching the two loves of his life interact so sweetly. You smiled back in turn.
He whisked you away from the party, after a while. Taking you to the more secluded parts of the rooftop. Completely devoid of life, he cradled your head to his and kissed you earnestly. Putting his Heart and Soul into loving you.
You giggled into his mouth, watching him smile back. You dragged your finger down the centre of his braids, something he’d come to love you doing. He pulled back from you, watching you smile up at him. His eyes shining with an endless love.
“Happy Birthday, [Name].”
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he is so boyfriend coded
Pavitr Prabhakar:
will do similar to Miles, but not with breakfast in bed
will wake you up with flowers and kisses and an outfit he knew you liked set out for you
like i said in this, sleepy you makes him go insane
he’d let you sit with him a while whilst you woke up, and would smother you in love, whispering his praise to you
pulls you into his lap to look him in the eye while he confesses how much he loves you like it’s the first time all over again
“Thithli, you mean the world to me—,”
He massaged the flesh of your thighs, resting along his waist. He was flustered looking up to you, knowing you were there, with him, drove him farther head over heels.
“—You’re the love of my life, getting older with you is the greatest blessing of my life.”
“Pav.. baby..” You whined his name, waking up to such affections would be something you could never get used to.
“I’m so glad you exist with me, Shonu.”
You shoved you head into his neck, hiding your lovey-dovey smile from him.
“Love you, Pavitr..”
“Love you more, [Name].”
When you’ve woken up more
he coaxed you for a shower, taking care of you like the doting lover he is
pats you dry and helps you dress, then dresses himself
all while telling you how you make him whole, how you’re the reason he’s here and he’ll never be as happy as he is with you
it’s obsessive, but you’re just as bad
you tell him more in touches than in words, and he takes it in stride.
he’s come to know your love language, both of you sharing touch, but you take in the quality time trait as well
so he makes sure to drag the day out as long as he can
makes the morning slow, brings you his gifts and starts the food while you open them
he pets your cat and cooks, watching you out of the corner of his eye
He’d gotten you a set of bangles with small spiders engraved, crested in diamonds.
ones matching to the ones he wears
accompanied with a matching collar for your cat, which you smiled at
he’d also gotten you smaller, sentimental things likes references to your first dates, massage oils,
and things you’d said you liked in passing, that’d he’d remembered. because of course he had
he smiles when you shyly cover your mouth, looking down at the things he’d gifted with teary eyes
knowing how hard it is for you to accept gifts,
he doesn’t say anything, just turns the stove down and walks over to kiss you
“You okay, Jaanu?”
You looked up at him from the paper in your hands, nodding with a pout of your lips and a tremble in your voice.
“Yeah—, Yes, I’m good.”
He leant over to kiss your temple, smiling as he turned back to tend to the food, “Thank you, Pav.”
He glanced back over at you.
“My pleasure, Thithli.”
you lie in bed together for another two hours after you eat
just taking in each others prescience and letting the calming white noise of a distant show in the background soothe you
you hold him close, listening to his heart beat
when a song comes on he recognises and he sings to it softly, the contented sigh you let out is involuntary
he eventually gets you up again, since you’re already dressed, you feed your cat and leave
he walks you through the streets of his home, bringing you to his favourite spots
to feed the stray dogs with him, or to grip onto him and swing over the immense traffic
“Pav, If I fall, I’m blaming you.”
“Thithli, you won’t fall. I promise.”
“Okay.. But if I do—“ He grabbed your waist and hoisted you against him, shooting a web to a high building and swinging you up. Using his bangles to create more momentum and fluidity with his swings.
“Pavitr Prabhakar! I’m going to kill you!”
“Kiss me? Doesn’t really sound like a threat..”
“I swear—“
His sweetened laugh interrupted your spiel, and you couldn’t even be mad.
he eventually leads you back to his house
where your friends and family (his included), are waiting for you.
They greet you in tandem, with a cute, fairly out of sync “Surprise!”
the furniture in his house had been pushed into the far corners and the tiles of his family’s large lounging area had been made into a make-shift dance floor,
everything else being decorated in a very honest sense
and if there was a ache in your chest for the love you’d felt then, no one but you would know
all your spidery friends were there as well— only making the evening even more special
festivities shown were upbeat and exciting and you hadn’t felt more of a community than you had at that moment
When a lull in the upbeat songs play, and a slower, more set tone starts through the speakers—, Pavitr cuts in, taking you from Hobie, who shoots him off with a wink.
He holds you close, starting a slow dancing sway with you.
“How’re you finding it, Shonu?”
The lights dancing in your eyes make you evermore pretty to him.
“It’s—.. Its beautiful Pav, I’m so happy,”
People had started to sway with you, keeping the middle of the floor clean for you and your lover.
“,Thank you.”
“Only the best for you, [Name].”
You’d swayed with him for another minute before the end of the song had approached. Him twirling you out and catching you in a dip whilst you laughed and went along with it.
He brought you up into a quick, cheesy kiss.
“How romantic.”
“Cause I love you.”
Your voice quietened. “Love you more, Spidey.”
He stared at you a moment longer, placing a kiss along your temple once more.
“Happy Birthday, [Name].”
FOR MY BDAY GIRL @juneberrie 🥳🥳‼️
and ty to my lovely translator 🫶 @kissmxcheek
(PUT ME IN A CELL 💥💥⬇️)
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