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#happy birthday to me
snarkspawn · 2 days
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well, another meme redraw that I can finally cross off my to-draw-list lmao
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without-ado · 4 months
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What did Hubble see on your birthday? (x)
Dec. 3, 2009 - Stellar Jewel Box NGC 3603
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yutaan · 11 months
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ANNA DID IT AGAIN
My amazing talented friend Anna has made me YET ANOTHER piece of incredible Jiang Cheng art! This time it's a linoleum print, i.e. a type of block print where the artist carves away material from their block in between each stage of laying down color, so by the end the block has been almost entirely cut away and the print cannot be made again! Moreover, each block print is entirely unique, as the colors will align slightly differently every time they are laid down.
Look at those golden snake scales! The rich drape of the fabric!! The gorgeous patterned collars!!! His grumpy little face that I just want to smoosh in my hand!!!! I'm so lucky to receive such a beautiful piece of art. Thank you Anna for being wonderful and creating such a special gift!!!
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effervescentdragon · 6 months
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on the topic of yearning and idols
or: "For me, he was my greatest idol since I started driving karts. Racing driver Michael Schumacher is my hero, the motivation to win races. The sport interests me, fascinates me, and there are other racing drivers, but there was nobody like him." - Sebastian Vettel
sources, in no order because i cant anymore, i used the wayback machine for this thing thats how insane i am:
this post by lovely @feraltwinkseb (and i think i may have downloaded some other pics that i had on my phone from your blog so THANK YOU; this; this; this; this; this; this; and this (yes i am exactly that pretentious). pics taken from pinterest mostly.
poetry: richard siken (of fucking course) // cj hauser // lucille clifton // doc luben
all screnschots taken from Schumacher (2021). all german translations are made by me :)
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actuallysafe-for-aro · 7 months
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I JUST REMEMBERED QUEEN ELIZABETH DIED ON MY BIRTHDAY 🎈🎂🎉❤️‍🔥
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chez-cinnamon · 8 months
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!~
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It’s just gone midnight where I am so I’m posting this so I don’t forget, but I’m old now <3 (Also puppet sona reveal!!)
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efaru · 8 months
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It isssss my birthday!! 🎂
If you want to make a present for me you can reblog my works 💜
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verk0my · 4 months
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IT’S MY BIRTHDAY 🎉
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zantetsuken88 · 10 months
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Ok I'll calm down with the thirst traps soon, but it's my birthday today and I'm giving you vascularity in celebration
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eslanes · 2 months
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To celebrate my birthday I wanted Devon to cosplay as the ts1 cake stripper so here we are
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asa-do-your-thing · 3 months
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Burn me down
Michael Gavey x Reader
18+ Minors DNI WC: 4.6k Warnings: Cigarettes, Alcohol, Smut, Wax Play, dom-ish Michael, Nerd in the streets, freak in the sheets A/N: I've asked you to choose a little something for my Birthday and you chose this! Yay! Here's to my 22nd birthday and a rather sweet and kinky Michael.
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You stood in front of the Pub, taking quick drags of your cigarette. You damned the horrendous british weather, you damned the fact that the student's exchange office apparently 'lost' your exams in the mail, making you re-sit everything in the winter break, but most of all you damned that Michael.
He was supposed to be your buddy - your mentor, showing you around campus and helping you connect with the other students, though all he did was invite you to the pub where he'd drink his pint in relative silence before leaving again.
It wasn't like you disliked STEM students, no; most of them were the chillest friends one could wish for. But he? He was a right royal pain in the ass, trying to convince you of his intelligence everytime you'd meet up.
You shivered as the cold wind whipped around you, making your eyes water and your teeth chatter. The rain pelted down hard, turning the pavement into a slick, shiny mess that squelched beneath your feet with each step. You finished your cigarette quickly, flicking it away into a nearby puddle with a silent curse as rain dripped onto your fingers. The smoke from it mingled with the damp air, creating an acrid smell that mixed with the scent of wet earth and cobblestones underfoot.
You tucked the next one into your mouth, feeling the familiar burn as you lit it from a soggy match that barely stayed alight in the weather. Pulling out your phone from your jacket pocket, you frowned when you saw no new messages from Michael; he'd stood you up again.
Blowing out a plume of smoke, you sucked your teeth and were just about to turn back and head home when you just-about-avoided giving Michael a burn as he appeared out of nowhere, stepping way too close to you.
"Sorry," he mumbled and looked down at your shivering form. "You said to meet up at eight, why would you text me if I'm here at quarter to?"
You took a step back and offered him a cigarette, which he quickly declined. "It's rude to be on time, it's best to be early. Doesn't matter, you're here now," you said and gave him a one over. That man really did not have a single fashionable piece of clothing to his name, it was incredible. He looked like he'd raided your father's wardrobe. "What's the plan for this evening?"
Michael shrugged, his eyes clung to the glowing end of your cigarette as though the answer was hidden in the embers. "The usual, I suppose," he stammered. "Grab a pint, talk about... things?"
You chuckled, "Ah, the endlessly fascinating 'things'," you teased, flicking some ash off your cigarette onto the pavement. It mingled with the small droplets of rain on the ground like stardust on a cosmic canvas. "How absolutely riveting."
He frowned slightly and looked at you; his eyebrows knitted tightly with confusion. "I didn't mean to be vague," he explained. "It's just..."
"It's just...?" you repeated with curiosity.
"Everything," he muttered. "Everything has been so much more... complicated since meeting you."
You looked at him in surprise as your next words hung precariously in the cold night air. You weren't sure where this conversation was going, but it certainly wasn't in the direction you'd expected.
"Complicated?" you echoed his words, blowing a cloud of smoke into the wind. The bitter cold bit at your face and you withdrew back into your collar. His expression was unreadable underneath the dim wintry light, giving him an aura of mystery that was oddly arresting.
"Yes," he nodded slowly before rubbing his hands together for warmth. "Because you're so different from what I'm used to."
You raised an eyebrow at that comment but said nothing, intrigued by his sudden openness, a stark contrast to his reticent persona up until now.
"But it's not a bad thing," he quickly added, pulling up his shoulders.
God, he was so awkward. Watching two drunk, scantily dressed girls leave the pub, you could see into the establishment and shook your head, grumbling.
"That damned thing's full to the brim. Would you be cool with coming to my apartment and have a drink or two there? I should still have beer and schnapps." Tossing your cigarette butt away you gave him a small, cheeky grin. "Or are you afraid of being alone with a woman?"
Michael's eyes widened at your bold comment, but after a moment his face relaxed into a sheepish smile. "No, I'm not afraid," he admitted. His voice was quiet but firm. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes so you decided not to push any further.
"Good," you replied, slightly impressed by the unexpected admission. "It'd be a shame to go and drink my beer by myself." You proceeded to lead the way to your apartment, just a few streets away. The cold rain was unrelenting and by the time you reached your building, both of you were drenched to the bone.
As soon as you stepped inside however, warm, dry air greeted you like a comforting blanket. You hurried up the worn wooden staircase leading to your apartment, Michael following closely behind. He looked around with curiosity and slight apprehension as he entered your abode for the first time.
Your apartment was small but cozy. A worn-out sofa sat before a small TV set, a coffee table littered with textbooks and research papers spread out before it. The walls were filled with photographs of family and friends; some from home, some from university. The kitchen was compact but well organized, a fridge full of post-it reminders of upcoming exams and assignments.
"Make yourself comfortable," you told him as you headed into the bath to grab some towels for drying off. He hesitated for a moment before finally settling down on the edge of your sofa.
When you returned with two towels, his eyes were darting around your living room - taking in all the photos and personal items that adorned it - like pieces of a puzzle about yourself that he was eager to solve.
"Different..." he mumbled again, almost to himself while his gaze lingered on a picture of you posing with your old high school friends.
"What?" you asked, throwing him one of the towels and ruffling your hair with the other.
He fumbled to catch it and cleared his throat. "You're just... different from what I expected," he repeated, sounding unsure of whether he was complimenting or criticizing you.
"And how's that?" you quirked an eyebrow at him as you headed towards the kitchen, deciding to ignore any potential insult for now. "Want a beer or schnapps?"
"Uh... a beer, please," he said, trying to wipe the rain off his glasses with the towel you gave him.
You opened the fridge and grabbed two bottles. "And how exactly am I different?" you asked again, popping off the caps and joining him on the couch.
He took the offered drink quietly, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "You’re more… real," he finally said, looking into your eyes earnestly. "I thought you're just another hippie lit student, but you do seem to be... uh, more scientific."
You burst out laughing at that comment, causing him to blush awkwardly. "Are you saying I am deep?" You took a gulp from your bottle before continuing, "Well, despite your stand-offishness and your slight academic snobbery, Michael," you said pointing at him with the bottle. "You are not so bad yourself."
He looked taken aback and looked away, taking a gulp of beer. Deciding that there wouldn't be much conversation from now on, which was usual for the both of you, you set your beer aside and walked to your wardrobe, pulling out an oversized T-Shirt and some short shorts, deciding to get out of your wet clothes. Not bothering to go into another room - you were still wearing your underwear, so there wasn't much to see anyways, you argued with yourself - you changed quickly.
When you turned back to Michael, he was staring at you with a startled expression, his cheeks flaming red. He quickly averted his gaze, muttering a soft, "Sorry."
"No worries," you replied nonchalantly, taking your seat back on the couch. You enjoyed his discomfort and couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.
Silence hung in the room as both of you focused on your beer bottles, the familiar scent of hops and barley filling the room. The distant sounds of the city could be heard through the thin walls of your apartment as well as the constant tapping of rain hitting the windowsill.
After a while, you broke the silence, "So... about these 'things' we're supposed to talk about?" You smirked at him, noticing how he squirmed under your gaze.
He sighed heavily before looking at you directly; eyes full of seriousness. "I think... I think I like how things are complicated with you."
You were taken aback at his straightforward confession and blinked at him. He looked just as surprised by his own boldness, face paling slightly.
"Look," he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "what I mean to say is... I find it intriguing, being around you. You don't strive to fit in any mold and that's... refreshing. And after our... our... evenings, you don't go about shouting it from the rooftops."
You stared at him for a good few seconds before bursting into laughter once again. His obvious discomfort combined with his honesty was endearing in its own strange way. Of course he was mighty uncomfortable about your deeper, emotional talks once you were drunk enough, but who were you to hold it against him.
"You are one weird bloke," you said amidst your laughing fits.
His face reddened once more but this time he nervously stood up and sat down flush next to you, eliciting another round of small giggles from you. "What are you doing? Are you trying to cuddle me?"
"No, I'm not trying to cuddle you," he protested, looking both embarrassed and indignant. Yet, despite his words, he didn't move away. Instead, he found himself moving closer to you on the sofa, closing the distance between you two.
"Then what do you call this?" you asked, laughter subsiding as you turned to face him. His close proximity made your heart beat a little faster, to your own surprise.
"I call this... um... adjusting for... comfort," he said, sounding nervous and uncertain. But his eyes never left yours and there was determination in them that was hard to ignore.
"Yeah? And who's comfort are we talking about here?" you asked, looking at him with amusement. You wondered how much of his boldness was down to the beer or simply his genuine personality.
He hesitated before answering, "Yours. And mine."
Grinning, you set your bottle down and turned towards him, laying an arm over his shoulder (which wasn't very easy, that damned man was so much taller than you were) and licked your lips. "Oh really? Yours as well? I'd never have guessed." With that, you closed the gap between the two of you and kissed him softly, giving him the option to retreat from it if he'd wish to.
Much to your surprise, your kiss elicited a small groan from him and made him wrap his arms around you, tighter than you'd have thought. So your suspicions were true then - he was as interested in you as you were in him.
Michael's touch was warm, his scent of rain and musk mingling with your own, his unsure hands very rough on you, though you had to confess that you didn't mind it as much as you'd have thoought you would. He tasted like beer and something else, something uniquely him. As you kissed him deeper, you could feel his heart pounding against your chest. There was a spark that ignited between the two of you - a mutual curiosity and eagerness that had been brewing beneath the surface for quite some time.
When you broke the kiss, you both gasped for air, eyes locked on each other's. "I think we should take this to bed," you whispered huskily, leaning in for another kiss before standing up and offering him a hand to help him up too. He took it gratefully, his palm soft against yours as he rose from the couch with you guiding him through the darkened room towards your bedroom door. Once inside, you turned lit one of your copious scented candles, casting a soft yellow glow across the space.
You both undressed slowly, shedding layers until all that remained were your underwear and his slightly damp shirt clinginging to his broad shoulders. His tall, lanky frame towered over you as he sat down heavily on the mattress, pulling you into his lap with an easy strength that made your heart race faster than before. The wet shirt clung to your skin as it rubbed against yours during every movement.
As you lay in his lap, your heart pounding wildly in your chest, his fingers tracing your spine and shoulders, you couldn't help but notice how warm and safe you felt in his embrace. He kissed your neck softly, the stubble on his chin brushing against your skin, sending shivers down your back. You moaned lightly as he nibbled on your earlobe, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His other hand slowly found its way to your breast, cupping it gently as he explored its softness beneath the padded fabric, causing you to gasp. "You're so beautiful," he murmured against your skin. You held your breath as he kneaded it gently, his touch sending sparks of desire straight to your core.
You couldn't believe how comfortable you were with him already; with someone you barely knew but somehow understood on a deeper level than anyone else ever had. The alcohol maybe? Or maybe it was just him—his innocent yet bold nature? You'd never know. All that mattered was this moment—his hand on your breast, the heat radiating from his body, the wet shirt clinging to both of you as if they were magnetized—made every nerve ending tingle with anticipation.
You pushed yourself closer into his touch, arching your back slightly when he pinched the nipple between his fingers teasingly before licking and sucking it softly. A groan escaped your lips at the sensation. You thought he'd be a virgin, but much to your surprise by the way he expertly unclasped your bra behind your back with a single hand and guided you gently onto your back it seemed like he did have a fair amount of practice.
His cock was throbbing against his pants, begging to be freed, but it seemed like he knew that wasn't the only thing that mattered right now. He wanted to get to know you in every way possible - and not just physically. He loved the taste of your lips on his, tangy from the beer but still sweet and soft. Both of you were shivering with anticipation. His hands traced up and down your sides slowly, feeling every curve and edge of your body as if they were made for each other. His fingers brushed against your underwear-covered mound and he gasped slightly at the wetness there before moving upwards to cup one of your breasts, holding it gently.
Your lips trembled as you whispered, "How long have you been wanting this?" Your breath caught in your throat as he clumsily lay next to you, his throbbing arousal pressed against your chilled skin. The way his fingers expertly teased and twisted your nipple made it clear that this was not a spontaneous decision, but rather a burning desire that had been building up inside him for a while. And making out with someone like Michael Gavey would never be just a spontaneous act - he would've started planning this weeks before.
"I... uh...", he muttered, clearly trying to conjure up a lie that he'd never thought about it, so you gave him a small smile. "Didn't mean to offend you," you mumbled as you moved a bit closer to him. His lips met yours again, hungrily, his tongue digging deep into your mouth as you felt his arousal press against your leg. You reached down and grasped it through his pants, feeling the warmth and length of him beneath the cotton. He groaned into the kiss, pressing himself against you harder. You could feel his heart racing as much as yours was, and it only fueled your desire even more. You could taste the beer on his lips and feel the barely-there stubble against your chin as he traced nervous kisses down your jawline, across your collarbone, and lower to your breasts.
When he took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking gently at first and then harder as you gasped, you arched your back off the mattress. He moaned into your skin, humming quietly as he continued to tease you with his lips and teeth. His free hand slid down between your legs, pushing aside the damp fabric of your underwear to touch you directly. Your hips bucked up towards his hand instinctively as he found your already slick folds and began to rub gently. The softness of his touch only added to the intensity of the sensation that coursed through you both.
Your breathing grew heavier as you ground yourself against his hand, needing more contact but also not wanting to beg for him. As Michael's tongue danced around yours, your kisses became more intense, your bodies pressing closer together. His heart was racing, his breathing heavy with anticipation. His hand slid up your side, tracing the curve of your waist before landing softly on the lace of your black panties. You caught your breath as he ran his fingers lightly over the fabric, feeling the softness against his skin. He leaned away from the kiss gradually, smirking at your flushed face and parted lips as he pulled the delicate garment down to reveal what lay beneath.
"Oh," he breathed out, taking in the sight of you - already wet and ready for him. He gave a mocking chuckle, "So ready for me, like a little slut." You blushed even deeper and looked away, unable to meet his gaze. His free hand found its way to your chin and tilted it up gently until you met his eyes again. There was a twinkle in his green irises that made your stomach flip-flop uncontrollably.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, leaning in to capture your lips once more in a slow kiss that lingered for far too long before pulling away. A teasing smirk lifted the corners of his mouth as he took in another deep breath and sat up, straddling you, effectively trapping you under him. "Now tell me, how long have you been wanting this? How long have you been moaning my name before you went to sleep?"
Opening and closing your mouth, you blushed heavily and licked your lips as he gingerly picked up the candle and let a tiny droplet of wax fall onto your belly. "Michael!" you gasped and blushed even further, especially as you could see him biting his lips. Shit, you thought, he likes to see you writhing under him. "Michael, I... I... didn't want to bother you, I..."
To that, he only lifted an eyebrow and grinned, letting more hot wax drip onto your chest, which was echoed by a yelping moan. "You still haven't answered my question."
The heat from the candle wax dripping onto your skin sent shivers down your spine, but you didn't flinch away from him. Instead, you inhaled sharply and arched into his touch, feeling every inch of his presence against yours. His hands gently caressed your skin as he waited for your answer, his thumb brushing across the sensitive flesh where he had dotted it with hot wax. You licked your lips nervously, trying to gather enough courage to speak the truth. You couldn't lie to him anymore - you felt like you might explode at any second and were this close to begging him to fuck you senseless.
Oh yes, you knew he'd do that. These shy, standoffish nerds - you knew for a fact that they had the biggest cocks and were willing to use them.
"I've wanted this for weeks," you finally admitted in a barely audible whisper. "Every time I saw you at Uni or when we sat together in the library, I could feel myself getting wet just thinking about what it would be like to be underneath you." Your blush deepened at the admission, but at least now it was out in the open. He was looking at you with such intense curiosity that you could feel yourself melting under his gaze.
As if in response to your confession, he set the candle down again and kissed a trail from your collarbone to your other nipple, nipping softly before catching it between his teeth and sucking gently. Your back arched off the mattress as pleasure coursed through you; he knew exactly what he was doing to make you lose control. His other hand moved lower still, fingertips dancing over your clit. "Hm," he mumbled, "I think I still haven't heard enough."
Whimpring, you tossed your head from one side to the other, trying your hardest to form a coherent sentence, or even just a word, the way he was circling your nub with an ever quickening pace. Losing all your dignity, you looked up at him and whined needily. "Please, Michael, fuck, fuck me... I need you, I..."
You felt his hot breath on your skin as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your earlobe before whispering, "You need me?" He nibbled softly, sending shivers down your spine. "I think that can be arranged..." His voice was trembling with anticipation, giving away his own nervousness and excitement. He trailed his tongue along the edge of your earlobe, grazing it gently as he slid off of you and stood up.
You couldn't help but watch him as he pulled down his underpants. His cock sprang free, hard and ready for action, glistening with his precum as it lazily slapped up ointo his his stomach. He was certainly well endowed - not the thickest, but by god that must've been at least twenty centimetres. You licked your lips unconsciously, wanting nothing more than to taste him, to feel him inside you. He smiled shyly as he quickly rummagged through the pile of discarded clothes and pulled out a condom from his wallet.
"On your hands and knees," he commanded in that same low voice that made your insides melt as he opened the package and rolled the rubber quickly over his cock.
Obediently you complied, presenting yourself to him in a way that only heightened the anticipation building between the two of you. The room was dark now as he extinguished the candle, casting eerie shadows on the walls as he moved behind you. His warm breath fanned over the nape of your neck making you shiver again as he ran a hand through your hair teasingly.
A sharp intake of breath escaped from you when he lightly skimmed a kiss over your spine before tracing it back up, holding tightly onto your hair as you could feel him positioning himself in front of your pulsating pussy.
Without another word, Michael's cockhead pressed against your entrance, teasing and stretching it before he finally found the sweet spot. A low moan escaped from his lips as he sank in to the hilt, filling you up completely. He pushed further inside until he was fully sheathed within your tight heat. You felt him to the core, his length stretching and filling you up completely.
The feeling of his length inside you was both exhilarating and overwhelming, making you moan out in pleasure as he gently began to move within you. His hands cupped your breasts, massaging them gently as he slowly withdrew and thrust back in again. Every inch of him flexed inside you, rubbing against your walls as if trying to find that perfect spot that would make you scream his name.
He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back into you hard, forcing a gasp from your lips. His hips pounded into you with unyielding force as it seemed like every muscle in his body tensed up with desire. The sound of skin smacking against skin echoed around the room, creating a rhythm that seemed to match the pounding of your hearts in your ears.
He looked down at your exposed ass cheeks while he kept pounding into you, admiring how they shook and clenched with every thrust. One hand moved around to caress them in tandem with his hips, making sure those cheeks received some love too as he slapped them harshly.
Your legs trembled beneath him as he startet grunting more loudly, his fingers clenching around your hips, pushing and pulling in a way that made you feel like he was using you like a toy. Fuck, who would've thought that Michael Gavey was such a freak. Though as soon as that thought had run through your mind, he wrapped his arm around you, quickly rubbing your engorged clit while he pistoned into you at an impossible pace. That was enough for you to scream into your pillow and to half-collapse, him following you almost instantly as your cunt squeezed his cock dry.
He collapsed onto your back, panting heavily against your neck. His heart hammered against your spine, matching the erratic rhythm of your own. He remained in you for a few more moments, his pulsating cock still buried deep inside you; you could feel him twitching with every throb of his orgasm.
Finally, he rolled off of you and onto his side, pulling out of you carefully as he did so. You whimpered at the sudden lack of contact, your body feeling oddly empty without him filling you up. He looked at you then; his eyes soft and full of wonderment as he took in the sight of you lying there—sated, flushed, and thoroughly fucked.
You turned to face him on the bed, reaching out to touch his chest as if to make sure he was really there beside you. His skin was damp with sweat, and he shivered as your fingers traced the contours of his chest and abdomen before finally coming to rest on his softening cock. You gave it a gentle squeeze, making him groan and buck into your touch.
“I’m... I’m sorry,” he stammered shyly after a moment’s silence. “I… um… didn’t mean to be so…” He trailed off uncertainly, looking rather sheepish as he glanced down at you.
But instead of chastising him or laughing at his awkwardness—as any other woman might have done—you simply smiled up at him before leaning in for a kiss. It was sweet and tender—a stark contrast from the roughness that had transpired between you two moments ago.
"Michael," you murmured against his lips once the kiss broke, "do you think I didn't enjoy it?"
He looked a bit taken aback, his brows furrowing in confusion as he met your gaze. "I-I mean... I just..." he stammered, clearly still embarrassed by the sudden shift between his lustful and awkward side. It was endearing to see him this flustered, considering moments ago he had been a commanding force.
"Hush," you cooed, pressing a finger to his lips to silence his ramblings. "I enjoyed every single breathless second of it," you reassured him. His cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red at your words, but his eyes sparkled with relief and satisfaction.
You saw him gulp down his lingering nervousness before he finally managed to utter something coherent again. "I'm glad," he whispered, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. "Really glad."
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hoosbandewan · 4 months
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EWAN MITCHELL as Tom Bennett in World on Fire 1.03
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yutaan · 1 year
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Papercraft commission of Jiang Cheng! The client specifically requested him smiling, which helped to narrow down his pose and expression a bit, but "smiling" still opened up so many possibilities! A confident, battle-ready smirk? A tiny, bitterly wistful smile full of longing for the ever-unreachable past? An unexpected grin when a prank (perhaps pulled by a rambunctious nephew or exuberant shixiong) catches him off-guard? All wonderful options! But in the end, this shy, startled little smile won out. Someone has said something nice to him, and he can't help but blush about it! :D
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yerrrman · 2 months
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jadeseadragon · 11 months
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Albert Durer Lucas (British, 1828-1918): Lilies of the Valley
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honeydippbih · 7 months
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Let’s hear a little commotion for the dress 🍾
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