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#you know there had to be a cheek or forehead kiss somewhere
urfavlarry · 2 days
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How are you? I just read the cigarettes after sex fic and I'm giggling and kicking my feet <3 Can I request a Joost Klein x fem!reader that's opposite of his style? Like opposites attract :3
The devil with his angel
Joost Klein x fem!reader
summary: readers style is a bit more feminine and usually wear lighter colours, unlike joost who had a masculine, street wear type of style. you were the prime example of the saying ‘opposites attract’
a/n: reader has a slightly specified outfit, hope thats alright<3
。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ 。
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╰┈➤ ⋆。‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧。⋆
— You and Joost have been dating for a few months in secret, wanting some privacy before revealing anything to the public. It was more for you to build your relationship more and have your peace and quiet for some time, knowing your fans could get a bit hectic. You loved each other dearly, you two filled each other’s empty spaces, you fit together like an ancient puzzle basically soulmates.
In the present, you were currently at Joosts concert, you being on the opposite side of the barrier blocking the fans from rushing to the stage giving you your space. You were smiling, singing along to his songs. You only started learning dutch when you started dating Joost to show your dedication to this relationship and how much he meant to you, and so you could support him during his concerts like you were doing now. You didn’t fit in the crowd however at all, everyone wearing more darker colours, or something not that bright meanwhile you were here in a floral dress, some white stockings, mary janes and some accessories. You stood out like a black sheep, which was ironic since you were the only one NOT wearing black. You stood closer to the stage, taking some photos of Joost on your polaroid camera he got you on your birthday. You smiled, everyone would be able to tell you were love struck if your back wasn’t facing them.
Joost was in the middle of playing his song ´Droom Groot’ , it was clear he loved performing the atmosphere of his concerts were never dull, always some kind of emotions were being felt during his concerts. The end of the song was nearing, the “Yes, yes, ladies and gentlemen this was Joost Klein with his hit single ´Dome Groot’ “ You smiled softly, Joost looking down at you with a smile before crouching and cupping your cheek in his hand, giving you a kiss on the lips. Your eyes went wide and your cheeks got hotter, the crowd screaming and whistling, even some gasps were heard. It really was a strange sight, you really were polar opposites.
The next day the media went crazy. You were on every media, trending somewhere in the tops 10s. You scrolled through all the articles, some fans were beyond excited and celebrated the union of their two favourite artists, while others were dumbfounded. They had no idea how such polar opposittes could have found their way to each other. Joost came out the shower, towel loosely tied on his hips as he dried his hair. He came towards you and looked at your phone. “How bad is it?” He asks, a smile on his face. You return his smile, looking up at him. “It’s a mix of ‘oh my god i’m so happy for them’ and ‘how are they even together’ but that was more than expected.” You say and he nods kissing your forehead. “Yeah, but i’m glad I don’t have to hide my love for you anymore.”
Despite the media going crazy, you two embraced your public relationship, attending events together and Joost couldn’t help to always post something about you somewhere, your styles making you guys even more magnetic. Fans slowly started to see the connection between you two, acceptance growing more by the day. One time you both had to speak up about your relationship a bit more, since death threats started to be thrown into your inboxes left and right.
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Joost Klein
@joostklein✓
It’s funny how you all see our styles and think we’re two worlds apart. Aside our styles were just two people who have passion for music and love each other.
Liked by bambiethug, {yourusername} and 2,082,096 others
user79107 and 568K others commented
bambiethug: you two are such sweethearts!! sending you all the love and protection from evil<3
user6618990: JOOST NOO MY HUSBAND
fucktheebu replied to user6618990: grow up you’re like 12
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{your nickname}
@{yourusername} ✓
I get we have different styles but giving us death threats? Wow..
You don’t see more then what we put on the media, you don’t know what our relationship is like behind closed doors. We may have different styles but we love each other and have the same passion for music, we basically balance each other out in our own way. Sending love to everyone that supported us xx
Liked by joostklein, user97741 and 1,980,762 others
hihixlovers and 567K others commented
lolianx: ❤️❤️ love your dynamic fr
apsondabluebirdha: tell them!!
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After that the whole thing calmed down. You two lived your lives more peacefully and you didn’t have to hide anymore. The both of you made a song together, tours sold out and your albums too. It was nice but it did add some stress to your career. You managed it all together always being there for one another despite your slight differences. You cherished every moment together, whether it was a simple night out, cooking together, singing silly songs together or just cuddling and watching a movie, all of it was just perfect.
You were currently in prague, performing a concert there together. You were the opener of Joosts concerts, since you didn’t really have the finances to two different tours so you decided on being the opener which you were more than happy to do.
You sat in a café, admiring the view of prague and also lost in thought. Joost was talking about the upcomig concerts, talking about the new places he wanted to see. He noticed your dazed state and stopped talking, putting a hand on yours as if to silently as if you’re okay. “Just thinking.” You say and he raises a brow; “About?” He pries and you chuckle softly. “I mean, do you ever think about how unlikely this is? Us, I mean.” You ask he he thinks for a moment, gathering his thought before soeaking up; “All the time. And every single time I realize how lucky I am to have you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I appreciate you.” You smiled, heart full of his enduring words. “Same here Joost, same here.”
About half a year later, your one year anniversary came. You were standing on stage, just finishing a song you wrote together just a few months ago. Cheers were heard throughout the crowd, signs with words like “We love you!” “You saved me.” “We’re proud of you.” were held high in the air, your heart melting. Realisation hit you like a truck as Joost picked you up and spinned you around, smiling wildly. He put you down, resting his forehead against yours, sweat dripping down from all the jumping around you’ve done during this concert. You smiles lovingly, holding his hands, fingers interwined. “We did it Joost.” “Yeah, we did.” In that moment you knew you found the right person. You realised you wanted to spend the rest of your days on this earth with this man, in his embrace, in his presence. Together you created beautiful and unforgettable memories that defied expectations, showing that sometimes, the most gorgeous harmonies come from the most unexpected places.
。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ 。
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╰┈➤ ⋆。‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧。⋆
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luveline · 45 minutes
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could I please request a remus x reader that isn’t used to affection and cries at being called a pet name <3
—Remus calls you lovely, so you cry in his back garden. fem
You hold your hands out to the fire pit, relieved when heat kisses your palms and warms your arms to the elbow. Summer nights are supposed to be warm. Not in Wales. 
The decking under you bends and groans as multiple pairs of feet cross it. Someone steps off by your legs and moves further into the garden. Solar lights warm the space and a battery powered lantern lights the patio table where Sirius hosts a championship of Speed. 
A pair of shoes stop by your legs. They step down and a body sits next to you tightly, thigh to thigh, no want for space. “Hey,” Remus says. “Are you cold?” 
“Not really.” 
“Did you bring a jumper?” 
“I’m not cold,” you laugh. “Of course I did, though, it’s upstairs.” 
Staying with Remus and his friends has been fun so far. The idea of spending a few weeks of your summer between your second and last year of University at Remus’ house had felt daunting when they suggested it, but you’ve had nothing but fun so far. It’s nice to have friends. Nicer to have patient and gentle ones.
“You can have my jacket? Wear it over your shoulders like a cape.” 
“No, thank you. Really.” 
Remus takes your arm. Gives it a quick rub with his thumb until his hand moves down to yours. He feels your fingers, his palm soft, before he returns to his personal space. “You don’t feel too cold. I’ll ask James to put another log on in a bit.” 
“All the food is keeping me warm.” 
He grins. Brown eyes, brown hair, lashes of firelight on his cheek. “Are you having a good time?” 
“Of course I am.” 
“Yeah? Will you tell me if you’re not? I know it’s weird staying somewhere else. Even if it’s just that the bathroom makes you miserable or you need extra socks.” 
“It’s like I’m on holiday with all my best friends,” you say lightly. 
“You are on holiday with your best friends. I’m not, ‘cos it’s my house, but this is the definition of a holiday.” 
“Thank you, for inviting me.” 
Remus puts his arm around your shoulder, and he kisses your temple with a gentle smile. “I wanted you here, lovely. We all want you here.” 
His arm falls away. It’s just amicable affection, you know that, but it’s more than anyone’s given you in a long time. You’re surprised he’d want to; you must feel a deep, deep tenderness for someone to call them lovely like it’s their only name, and to kiss their forehead with a smile already in place. 
You pull the inside of your bottom lip between your teeth. It’s precious, to be wanted. To have someone as special as Remus show you what you mean to him plainly. You’ve had a great day filled with nice food and good friends, and now you’re warming your knees by the flickering fire pit in the Welsh countryside, stars emerging above you, the moon a pinky nail by the mountains. 
You tip your face into your hands. 
Remus brings a hand to your back and draws a shape without comment, but his hand flattens, and he feels it loud and clear when you sniffle. “Dove?” he asks softly. 
You raise your head quickly, sniffling again as you wipe hot tears off of the hills of your cheeks. “Sorry.” 
“Did I upset you?” he asks, sitting up straight. “I’m so sorry, what did I say?” 
“No, no, it’s nice. It’s nice, you’re always so nice to me.” 
“You’re upset because I’m nice?” 
“I’m just not used to it, that’s all.” 
“Not used to it,” he says, frowning. His brows set. He’s nearly stony.
“You’re the nicest friend I’ve ever had.” 
“Can I give you a hug?” 
You nod, shivering as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, no room left between you. His cheek smushes into the side of your brow, a heat like the fire warming you, the two of you listening to the sound of wood embers popping. 
He makes a sound somewhere in his chest and pulls you closer again. Impossibly, he shifts, and his second arm comes around to turn his side hug into a proper one, as though he’s changed his mind about it just a few seconds in. You turn into him without apprehension. 
“You’re not used to it. Do you like it?” he murmurs. 
You press your face to his jaw and neck. Your arms act of their own accord, tightening behind his back. 
“You should be used to it, someone like you. You should be so used to it that it bounces straight back off you again.” He rubs your shoulder. His fingers work into a tight muscle gently. “You lied about being cold, I can feel it now. Your back is freezing.” 
You raise up off of the decking to hug him harder. He’s all for it. 
“We’ll teach you exactly how to be part of the world’s touchiest friend group,” he promises. “You're already a good hugger.” 
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kteezy997 · 2 days
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GIVE US THE NEXT PART RNNN
Daddy's Boy-Part 11
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warnings: allusions to sex/baby making
“Timothée, do you take y/n to be your wife?” asked the preacher looking at the young man to his right.
“Yes.” Timmy smiled, “I do.” He gave your hands the sweetest squeeze, he was fidgety, shifting on his feet. You knew all he wanted was to kiss you, and to have this thing be over with so he could call you his wife, finally.
“And, y/n, do you take Timothée-"
“I do.” you blurted out. You didn’t even register the words as they came out of your mouth before the preacher had even finished his question.
Timmy grinned and let out a laugh, as did your wedding guests, even the preacher had a chuckle. You blushed, feeling a little embarrassed in front of all of your family and friends, but you looked into Timmy's eyes, and you were grounded back into him and this wonderful moment.
“Well alright then,” said the preacher, “Timothée, you may kiss your bride.”
Your boy wasted no time and pulled you into the most tender of kisses. You rested your hands on his face as his warm touch was on your hips. He pulled away from the kiss, put his forehead in yours, “I love you, wife.”
“I now present to you, the new Mr. and Mrs. Chalamet." the preacher said loudly, followed by a mass of applause.
.......
That weekend, you and Timmy were set to leave for a brief honeymoon. You had told him that you didn't wish to go anywhere expensive or fancy at this time, you only wanted to go somewhere quiet and cozy so the two of you could enjoy spending time alone.
You opted for a nice cottage out in the countryside. Only a couple of hours from home, it would be the perfect getaway for you as newlyweds.
"So, are we going to tell him about the baby before we leave?" Timmy asked you as you were settling into bed the night before your trip.
"No, I'm thinking we should wait until we have a sonogram photo to show him. He'll be more excited seeing what is in my belly rather than us just telling him, you know?"
"Yeah, I get that. He'll definitely understand that there's a real baby in there." he said, laying down in bed with you and pulling you close. He rested his hand on your stomach. "Is it okay if I touch your belly, like all the time?"
"Yes." you kissed his cheek as your heart fluttered, "It is perfectly fine. I want you to feel close to our baby."
Timmy hummed happily, kissing your lips in return, ""You're gonna make me a daddy again. I love you so much." he brushed his nose against yours, and his curls tickled your face. "I can't wait to make love for three days straight." he smirked, "I hope you're ready, wife."
You giggled, caressing his jaw with your fingers, "I love you too, husband. Let's hope morning sickness doesn't kick in for me while we are away."
"Aw, I don't want it to happen to you at all, I hate it when you don't feel good." Timmy pouted and put his hand to your cheek.
"I didn't have much sickness when I was pregnant with Theo, so hopefully this time around it will be the same."
"If you didn't get sick, then how did you know you were pregnant with him?" Timmy asked.
"Well, my I missed my period, and my boobs were super sore."
"Hmm, well if your boobs start to hurt this time around, just let me know and I'll massage them for you." he grinned.
"I bet you would." you giggled, kissed him one last time, then said, "Okay, time for sleep, we have a bit of a drive tomorrow, Chalamet." You then settled down onto your pillow and pulled the blanket over yourself.
"Alright, goodnight, Chalamet." Timmy replied, laying down and snuggling you.
…..
“But who am I gonna play basketball with while you’re gone Dad?” you heard your five-year-old whine to Timmy as you carried your luggage out of the bedroom.
“It’s only three days, buddy. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Three days is a long time!" Theo grumbled.
You handed your bag over to your husband, giving him a look that said, ‘I’ve got this.’
Timmy gave you a wink, then picked up all of your bags to take them out to the car.
“Listen, young man,” you began, kneeling down to your boy’s level, “I know you’ll miss Daddy-"
“I’ll miss you too, Mommy.” he said, interrupting you.
You smiled, “Thank you. I was about to say that when Dad and I get back from our trip, Mommy has to go to the doctor.”
“Why? Are you sick?”
“No, no. It’s nothing like that. But if all goes well, we will have some really good news to share with you.”
Theo smiled, “Okay, I hope the doctors say good things. And don’t be scared of the doctor Mom, they are there to take care of you. Just like Daddy says.”
“That’s exactly right. So, I’m not afraid.” you agreed, kissing his forehead, “I love you, my boy. See you in three days, and be good for grandma and grandpa, okay?”
Theo nodded, “Okay. I love you, Mommy.”
As you hugged your son, you noticed Timmy come back inside. “I’m gonna go to the car. Say goodbye to Daddy so we can get going, alright?” you said to Theo, and he nodded again, understanding that the time had come to let his parents leave.
You walked away toward the door, stopping to watch Timmy pick Theo up in a warm hug. “I love you. We will FaceTime every day, okay?” Timmy said.
It was a little silly to get out of sorts over three days apart. But you realized that this would be the longest they had ever been separated, so it was big adjustment for both of them. They were father and son, but also best friends and absolutely inseparable.
........
You stopped at a convenience store for some drinks and snacks for the two-hour road trip, and Timmy started driving.
"I love Theo to death but I'm glad to have some time away with you." Timmy admitted, keeping one hand on the wheel and placing the other on your thigh.
"Yeah, it's gonna be a great time. I'm ready to just sit and relax." you added, putting your hand on top of his as you both watched the road ahead.
"I"m not gonna let you relax too much, though. If you weren't already pregnant now, you would be impregnated on this honeymoon." he said, and you smirked to yourself as you noticed his cheeky grin in the rearview mirror above your heads.
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @@thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @briefkittenearthquake @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie
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satoruluvies · 1 day
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first angst drabble!! i cannot write angst without tryna cryy :(
okk here it goes HELP srry this took while say i had go school to catch up works i miss when sick
imagine nanami sending you texts every time when he goes out for mission it start with "hey how are you?" and at night he give you heads up "mhm comin home late." it's always was a routine, one mission was going be his very last he text you sweet messages how he Forgot kiss the kids good Moring since he went early but he promise to you when he comes back he give them a sweetest night kiss, you guys texted back and fought before he had to go, he sent you a message d before he had to go, you were to focus on the Kids you didn't see it pop up, minutes went hours you were so worried you texted your husband wondering where he is, you saw a text that you missed "if anything happens, I love you." you reply back "promise?" why reply to someone who not on earth anymore?
WHHE2321MNEWD
(this was a diff idea i wanted when everyone was using reader and when she finds a boyfriend, Gojo he just like the same and uses her too tell me if u want this drabble to i thought it was bit mean!!)
-🐱 anon
honestly could go a little something like-
the day starts with the lovely morning text from your husband as usual, smiling to yourself at the endearment he called you and the apology saying he forgot to kiss your lovely daughter before he left. he'd make up for it when he arrive though, you had no doubt.
checking your phone right after you wake up to read your husband's text was your daily routine even before kento became your husband. it just didn't feel like your morning was complete without doing so.
this particular morning however, you find yourself crying for a reason you can't find yourself to pinpoint.
you: i think my period is coming, im getting emotional for no reason. come kiss me better when you arrive!
✓ 6.54 am
you set your phone down and take a moment to bask in the small rays of light falling from your windows into your room and sigh, wiping your tears away. you could really use morning kiss right now.
"mama!" your daughter scurried over to your bed and threw her tiny body over yours earning a giggle from both your mouths. you place a chaste kiss on her forehead and a second one, for kento. it was a charming moment until your daughter's smile disappeared.
"mama are you crying again?" you find your hands rubbing away the tears that happened to run down your cheeks. what is up with that?
"momma's fine, baby. how about we surprise papa with his lunch today? he forgot to give you your morning kiss hm?" you tuck her hair behind her ears, her own eyes slowly turning teary.
"you're doing it again" she pulls away from your hold, a frown now found itself on her adorable face.
"doing what baby?"
"talking like ... like papa is still here. i don't like it."
that's when it hit you. her papa, your husband wasn't here anymore. you knew it, you do but somehow it does not make sense. how could nanami be dead when you've just received your morning text like you always used to when he was here?
you scrambled among your sheets desperately searching for your phone to prove to yourself, more than anyone, that nanami was alive and well. of course he has to be.
however you were only met with disappointment and that nauseating feeling of jumping off somewhere high when you opened your chats to his number.
you: i think my period is coming, im getting emotional for no reason. come kiss me better when you arrive!
[message not sent. this number is no longer in use.]
! 6.54 am
ah. it wasn't for no reason that you were emotional first thing in the morning. it was your body mourning for the love of your life that your mind forced itself to forget about his death.
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omg this concept of reader imagining/hallucinating beloved used to be one of my favourite tropes!! pls the way my world paused when i read your drabble because i knew it was angst but i didn't know it was about THIS topic crying crying
also im so glad to know you're better now, enough to go to school hehe i hope the workload isn't too heavy to catch up on <3
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sttoru · 6 months
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‘i told you once, that only two things will have me; you and death.’
☀︎|tags. gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. themes of insecurity: trust issues kinda (by reader). reader gets called ‘baby, princess, angel’. self indulgent. proof read? whats that
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“aww, there’s my hardworking girl,” satoru coos whilst his arms move to hold your body captive against his chest in a much needed hug, “and she’s still lookin’ as pretty as ever! my god — c’mere.”
your over-excited lover cups your face in his hands and holds it like that for a second to admire. his thumb slides from your cheekbone to your lips, gently parting them before pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. of course, he doesn’t leave it by that. satoru never does.
“pretty,” a kiss on your right cheek — “beautiful,” a kiss on your left one — “gorgeous,” a kiss on the tip of your nose — “amazing”, a kiss on your forehead — “sweetest,” a kiss on your chin — “lovely”, a kiss on the top of your head;
maybe it was the stress of the previous days that made you tear up. satoru has made it a daily routine: you come home, he welcomes you with open arms, showers you with his unending love and attention until you physically have to pull him away from your body. you sometimes ask yourself what you did to deserve someone so loving.
if satoru had heard you say the latter out loud, he would have kissed your mouth again to shut the thought down instantly. ‘you deserve everything and more’, you silently recall him saying once.
“stop that.” you mutter. the ‘that’ referring to the butterfly kisses and tight hugs he’s giving you. you tried not to seem in the mood for receiving his affection today. the muffled giggles leaving through your gritted teeth tell another story however.
“nu-uh,” satoru lets out a low chuckle, going right back to giving you what you deserve, “it’s like you’re askin’ me to stop breathing, baby. i can’t just not do this.”
satoru lifts you up into his strong arms and brings you over to the kitchen counter, settling you there - somewhere away from all that he had been cooking since the morning. he’s grinning from ear to ear, glancing from the covered plates near the stove and back to you.
you tilt your head curiously as you watch satoru grab one plate and uncover it, revealing the content like it was a big surprise—
“open up f’me, my princess.” your lover hums as he’s already guiding a piece of cake to your lips. your favorite cake which he had oh-so-obviously cooked himself judging by the messy look of it. your gaze lingers on the piece for a second to appreciate the gesture.
when you look back up at satoru, his eyes are already on yours — patiently waiting for you to let him feed you. his blue eyes are sparkling with a sense of pure excitement; one he only has around you. his love for you was almost overwhelming at times like these.
“why?”
the simple, one word question made the white sorcerer stop in his tracks. his head cocks to the side, eyelashes fluttering lightly in confusion, though the handsome smile on his face remains. ‘why’ could mean a lot of things in this context; why do you want to feed me? why do you want me to eat this? why should or even would i?
out of all the possible interpretations, satoru knew the exact one you had meant the moment he saw the tears that welled up at the corners of your eyes; ‘why do you care so much?’
“do i need a reason to?” his voice was smooth and soft. almost way too soft now that he’s realised just how vulnerable you were in front of him. satoru’s smile only widens, however — the sight of his girlfriend being overwhelmed by his affection was one he couldn’t resist.
it’s part of your charm. the charm you don’t know about; the charm that made the gojo satoru fall head over heels for you. your lover shakes his head with a light-hearted laugh, putting the slice of cake back down on the plate so he could hold your hands in his.
“i love you, yeah?” he kisses the back of your hands with utmost care before planting another one on your forehead again. satoru cradles your head against his chest afterwards, making you rest your weary body against his for as long as you needed it; his warmth and comfort, “it’s because i love you. that’s the only reason why, angel.”
you just nod in response — needing a moment of silence to recover, which satoru grants you without it having to be asked verbally. it’s like he knows just what goes on in your little head and is always updated about your changing feelings.
that’s what surprises you most. satoru’s super attentive to every single detail about you. from your unnoticeable habits to the big facts. that is what love truly is. that is how it feels like to have a man love you unconditionally—without any underlying or ulterior motives. without expecting anything back.
“i love you too, ‘toru. forever.” you reply eventually in a hushed whisper. the sorcerer only tightens his grip around your body, hugging you closer to his chest like his personal plushie. he nuzzles his nose into your hair — your scent both relaxing yet addicting.
“yeah,” satoru sighs in content and closes his eyes—allowing them to rest. all his senses are focused on making you feel better. he won’t let go of you until he’s sure you understand that you’re deserving of it all; his loving hugs, kisses, words of affirmation, gifts, comfort, cuddles and support.
“forever and beyond that.”
satoru doesn’t mind reminding you how much he cherishes you. even if he has to remind you every day until the day he succumbs. you’re his number one priority; he’ll even make sure to tell you he loves you with his dying breath when the time comes.
he’ll make sure of it.
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mariespen · 3 months
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Pretty Girl ˚. ୭୧ .˚
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daddy issues!reader x rafe cameron .˚ summary: "His girl, only his, sobbing in his arms." warnings: major daddy issues!, very mild mentions of verbal/physical abuse, shared trauma
based on this request!
‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
The bright ping on your phone shone throughout the dark bedroom like a discreet warning.
You got up to check it, a small and exhausted smile on your face.
Rafe recognized the way your eyes saddened, slowly becoming more droopy and cursing your cheeks as if they were pulling you down with them. He looked at your face like it was a mirror. He watched you try to block every thought out of your head, try to put the phone down and run back into the warm arms of your boyfriend.
“Hey..” Rafe whispered, his voice deep and scratchy from the morning sun.
You let out the smallest sniffle, wiping your eyes and hesitantly putting your phone back down. You turned to him, looking at him like the world was weighing down on your shoulders.
The eye contact made Rafe’s eyes glossy with the reminder that the two of you really weren’t all that different. He couldn’t stand the idea that another man was hurting his little girl.
You let yourself collapse into his arms, feeling them wrap around you and rest on your tense body. He sighed, burying his face into your messy hair and pressing you further into him.
Rafe didn’t need telepathy to know what that text said, he didn’t need anything but his own personal experience, but he wanted to see it word for word. He held you closer, keeping his grip tight as a weak attempt to distract you from his arm reaching over to take your phone from the night stand. He felt lucky when you didn’t stir, just clung onto him in understanding.
He started to open your phone to gain an alternate understanding, but he felt his heart break when you started shaking in his arms. His girl, only his, sobbing in his arms.
“My love..” He whispered, dropping your phone somewhere on the bed and holding you with both arms again.
Your sobs shook your shoulders and he realized that he didn’t need to know what that message said at all. Rafe needed to be next to you, he needed to kiss your tears away, he needed you to look at him with nothing but love and trust.
“Talk to me, princess.” He spoke into your hair, planting an encouraging kiss on the crown of your head.
“Can’t..” You sobbed, clutching tighter onto him.
Sleep clouded your senses, safety replacing the white-hot feeling of dread as he kissed your forehead like you were made of only porcelain and glass rather than the harsh reality of bones and blood.
Rafe woke up with your soft skin pressing into his tense body. It was hard sleeping knowing that your tears stained his chest. You stirred in his arms and he strained his neck down to kiss your cheek gently, pulling back up to relax into the plush pillows.
His hand found its way from the warm confines of your hair and down your neck, stopping at the base of your back. Rafe drew up your shirt just enough to slot his fingers under, scratching your back to the beat of the thoughts in his head.
Reflections and recollections of his father’s angry shouts flooded his mind. Every word attacked him and latched onto him almost the same as they had when he was nothing but a child. He was stronger now, stronger than the words his father spat at him and the fist that same man had thrown at him.
Rafe worked quietly to take hold of your phone again. He didn’t bother reading your father’s small and dismissive texts. On an impulse, Rafe instantly found the block button and deleted his contact. He cleared all of your tabs, feeling a pang of guilt course through him. That quickly disappeared.
The soft shaking of Rafe’s body woke you up. He muttered something but you couldn’t hear the detail of his voice. Instead, you hiked one of your legs up onto his abdomen and let your head bury itself into his side. You gave him a squeeze, emitting a small chuckle from him.
“G’morning, princess.” He said, brushing a hand through your hair as a strong, protective urge blanketed him.
Rafe felt safe when you felt safe. He felt at peace when you did and he felt protected when you felt the same. His happiness was solely in your hands and you were clueless, at least he thought you were.
“Morning..” You yawned into him, starting to fall back asleep in his warm embrace.
Rafe kissed you softly, pulling you upright and brushing the strands of hair away from your face.
“Gotta get up.. important business today.” He said with a higher pitch to his voice that made your heart melt.
You pouted and nodded as Rafe got out of bed and retrieved the outfit he had picked out for you yesterday. He began to get ready, checking on you once and seeing that you were still in bed, slowly falling asleep on your own terms.
Rafe walked over to you, sitting next to you and picking up your head to lay on his lap. His fingers lazily tangled into your hair as he spoke to you.
“C’mon baby, time to get ready.” Rafe’s voice bordered a whisper while he sat you upright again.
“M’kay..” You answered groggily. 
You dramatically got out of bed, a protesting pout shading your face as he chuckled at your stubborn features. The ice of your tired chest broke when he kissed you and warmed your entire body with pastel-red love.
Getting ready was never a chore when Rafe was next to you. His company had never shied away from you and he made sure to attach you to his hip at all times.
“You look gorgeous, princess.” He said, kissing your glossy lips deeply enough to steal some right from your face. He wiped his mouth with a laugh, settling on your forehead. He stooped down to kiss the perch of your face before helping you up.
“Really?” You asked with a bright smile. His eyes softened at your question, noticing a hint of doubt lining your features.
“I’d never lie to you, sweetheart.” He whispered to you, capturing your lips in a quick kiss before pulling away to admire the way blush flares up your face.
You nodded, never being amazing at receiving compliments but you couldn’t deny how his words made your whole heart melt into a puddle inside of your ribs. Rafe pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your face.
“You’re my girl, m’always gonna think you’re pretty. Won’t ever give up on you, a’ight?”
Tears brimmed your waterline as he forced you to hold eye contact with his softening eyes.
“I got you, pretty girl.”
‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
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saetoru · 10 months
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。2:09 AM — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)
contents. college au!, rich boy! gojo, established relationships, alcohol consumption (gojo), mentions of his rude dad tryna break y’all up >:(
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it’s test night. meaning you have a very important test that will heavily weigh on your grade coming up at 8:30 am sharp. gojo should know not to bother you—you’ve told him at least one million times (maybe one billion) that you absolutely will not be coming over.
but judging by the insistent knocking on your door, he’s failed to listen to your warnings and decided to come to you instead. so you decide you’re going to kill him as soon as you open that door—you’re going to walk up, open the door, cup his cheeks and take one last good look at that beautiful face, and then you’re going to kill him and bury him somewhere where no one will find him.
except when you open the door, ready to scold your painfully irritating boyfriend, you’re greeted by his best friend instead. geto has gojo slung over his shoulder with a tired enough look on his face that you almost feel bad for him even after he’s ruined your sleep. almost.
“it’s two am,” you say, unimpressed. gojo perks up as he hears your voice, slurring your name as he tries to take a step towards you—if not for geto’s arm around his waist, you’re pretty sure your boyfriend would face plant onto the floor.
“yes, and i’ve dealt with him until this long. it’s your turn,” geto grumbles.
“just take him home, i don’t want him,” you wrinkle your nose. gojo whines in disbelief, still too drunk to stand on his own two feet or form proper words. you raise a brow and then promptly decide to ignore him.
“well, i don’t want him either,” geto huffs, “and he doesn’t want to go home. he went at it with his father again.”
“then make him sleep in his car.”
“he’s your boyfriend,” geto insists.
“he’s your best friend. you’ve known him longer.”
“you know him just as well,” he argues, “plus, you fuck him. that’s way more than what i do.”
“suguru!” you sputter, earning a sly grin from the dark-haired jerk standing before you—maybe you should kill both of them and hide their bodies in your freezer.
but then again, your tiny freezer in your run-down apartment that you can hardly afford as a tired, overworked college student couldn’t possibly fit two oversized men with abnormally large limbs. so instead, you offer geto a not-so-appropriate hand gesture (that he graciously returns) and grab gojo from his arms.
and instantly, gojo brightens.
“baby!” he slurs, kissing your cheeks with sloppy, scattered pecks. you crinkle your nose at the smell of alcohol surrounding you as soon as he enters your personal space.
“he’s your problem now,” geto mutters, rolling his eyes at the headache he’s had to supervise for the entirety of the night. you suppose you can feel a little bad for him—but only a tiny bit.
“wanna crash on the couch?” you ask sympathetically. it earns a soft smile from geto before he shakes his head.
“nah, i’ll go home. thanks.” with an affectionate flick to your forehead, he turns and walks back to his car, leaving you with the lanky, drunken mess leaning half his body weight on you.
you really should kill gojo satoru—and you should do it before 8:30 am.
“didn’t i tell you i have a test?” you grumble, dragging him to your bedroom.
he flops unceremoniously onto your mattress, snuggling with the stuffed bear by your pillows. and you should stay strong, but before you can help it, you smile softly at the sight.
“i won this for you,” he grins, his sunglasses crooked and falling to the tip of his nose. you grab them from his face and set them on your nightstand.
“yes, i know,” you roll your eyes, “i was there.”
“you kept it,” he giggles, words still slurred and messy.
“yes, satoru,” you snort, “i kept the stuffed bear my boyfriend won me. it’s not a surprise.”
“‘s right,” he nods, “‘m your boyfriend. best one you ever had, huh?”
“sure,” you sigh, pulling him by the arm to sit up. he puckers his lips as soon as his face is close enough to yours, looking at your expectantly.
“gimme a kiss. i need a kiss,” he demands.
“satoru, you’re drunk,” you sigh, trying to work the sweaty button-up off his body, “and you smell like beer.”
gojo is well built—he doesn’t seem like it because he’s a bit lanky and has an awful sense of fashion that doesn’t do his figure any justice, but he’s well built. you try your best not to stare at the sculpted abs and the curves of his pecs—especially not the slight sweatiness of the skin that makes it almost glisten.
nope. you keep your eyes trained on him, not his shirtless torso.
except gojo satoru is nothing if not observant even in his drunken stupor—he grins that shit-eating grin of his that you hate so much but fall in love with every time, noticing the way your eyes wander back to his chest every few seconds for a fleeting glance.
“you don’t have’ta sneak a look, baby,” he slurs smoothly, chuckling, “‘m all yours. wanna feel?” and because he’s an asshole, he grabs your hand and lays it flat on his chest. “i’ve been working out with suguru. can you tell?” he winks.
“no,” you say flatly, pushing him back onto the mattress once you’ve worked his shirt off, “now sleep.”
“can’t sleep unless i’m in boxers,” he pouts, “can you take my pants off for me?”
and he even dares to bat his long, unfairly pretty eyelashes at you, putting on his best innocent face. you see past him, though—you see the smirk he tries to hide and the amusement in his clouded eyes.
you’re definitely going to hide his body in your freezer.
“you’ll live,” you huff.
“please,” he pouts deeper, “can’t sleep in these. too uncomfortable.”
“fine,” you hiss, and for a brief moment, you mourn the sleep you should be getting right before the most crucial midterm of your life.
you glare at his cheeky grin as you work his belt off, unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down his legs, grumbling curses under your breath. this time, you make careful work not to stare at his lower half—you refuse to give him the satisfaction.
“are you ready for sleep now, your highness?” you ask with a raised brow. he giggles and nods, holding an arm out for you.
“c’mere.”
and….well, you can’t exactly complain once you’re nestled comfortably in his arms, cheek pressed against the bare skin of his chest. his arm wraps around your body tightly, pulling you close as he plants a wet kiss on your forehead.
“you’re a handful,” you sigh, “did you bother suguru too much?”
“nope,” he shakes his head, “i was on my best behavior.”
“you’re never on your best behavior,” you grin, rolling your eyes. and because you love him, even when he calls you as you study and crashes your apartment as you try to sleep, you lean up and kiss his jaw sweetly, making him hum happily. “goodnight, satoru.”
“you forgot to say i love you.”
“i hate you.”
“so mean,” he whines, making you giggle.
“i love you,” you murmur, “i’ll love you a whole lot more if you let me sleep for my test.”
“kay,” he yawns, wrapping his arms tighter around you, “i love you too.”
it’s silent for a bit, just the steady breaths from gojo and the loud air conditioning ringing in the distance. you’re sure he’s asleep from the way his chest seems to rise and fall under your cheek slowly—until he speaks up quietly, almost as if he doesn’t want you to hear.
“‘m never breaking up with you,” he whispers, “promise. no matter what that old man says.”
you hold your breath as his warm lips press against your forehead—you’re certain he thinks you’re asleep, and you’re also certain that you were never meant to hear those words in the first place. so you swallow, trying not to give away that you’re still very much awake and very much aware of his words.
and then it hits you—suddenly, you remember the way gojo refused to go home, the way geto mentioned he’d gotten into an argument with his father. it clicks all at once that the subject of this argument must’ve been you—gojo’s father has never been subtle about his disapproval, and it’s no secret he’d greatly prefer that the heir of his company stopped dating someone entirely out of his realm—someone like you.
“you’re it for me,” he mumbles softly. you think he sounds a bit more sober as he speaks the words against your forehead—and for a moment, you think that gojo is it for you too. 
maybe you’re not so mad about your sleep anymore. maybe, as he kisses your forehead one last time, as his breath slowly evens out and his grip loosens slightly around your body, you fall in love with gojo satoru a little harder. 
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stab dadjo and stan suguru ‼️
ps here’s a little part 2
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ghosts-cyphera · 8 months
Text
╰﹒ price's wife = the wife of 141
warnings/content: 18+! 141 x fem!reader. dubcon: sex under the influence of alcohol, unprotected sex, blowjobs, anal, mentions of cum and spit, male masturbation ??? just... everything, really. buckle up, besties. mdni!
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being price's cute little tradwife would mean that he'd share you with the rest of 141, too. it wasn't his plan at first: he had never thought of it until he had seen the way that they had all looked at you. 
gazes lingering on your frame for just a while too long. tongues wetting their lips as they towered over you, grinning as you laughed, soft and sweet, at something they'd said. your eyes sparkling, your glossed lips tugging into one of those smiles that filled the pit of price's stomach with butterflies each time he saw it on your features.
you knew how to make everyone around you feel special, no matter if you meant to do it or not. and slowly but surely, they all had begun to ask about you: about whether or not you'd be joining them for drinks that evening. about your plans for price's vacation. 
"takin' our lass somewhere warm?" johnny grinned, wetting his lips. "send us boys a postcard or a picture of our bonnie layin' on the beach, will ye?"
where price had expected to feel a touch of jealousy, he instead found himself feeling something so much deeper. excitement; burn at the thought of them enjoying you just as much as he did.
you were good, and sweet, and kind.
your love was endless and unconditional: the type of love that healed wounds one didn't know they had in the first place. your lips soft, your eyes twinkling, your touch nothing short of damn heaven: a woman like you made to be loved by so much more than just a single man. 
so why not four?
and after months of watching their need for you grow day by day, price gave in.
inviting you to dance with the boys in your living room. grinning, as he encouraged ghost to draw you into his lap: to let his fingers play with yours as you drank yourself silly, your husband handing you a new glass each time you downed the previous one.
price humming with warm agreement, as gaz pulled you to him and let his lips ghost a kiss on your forehead. so soft and gentle, careful to not scare you off. 
though his permission for them to touch you had not been explicit, they'd all known: had seen it in the way that he had looked at you and them, brow raised in his amusement.
help yourself to her, lads.
and so, they did. 
you were so drunk that your words were slightly slurring: eyes twinkling as the three men were suddenly all over you. his little wife so confused, yet so happy—you always were when you were drunk. so gullible, so easy to influence.
the drunken words of encouragement from their lips tangled together: their hands suddenly all over you, nearly impossible to keep track of.
it was ghost who called you our darlin', wasn't it?
soap who promised to be so gentle with you, not wanting to hurt their little lass. wanting to make sure that you could take it all.
gaz whose hands were kneading your hips, as his lips brushed against your earlobe. 'gonna fuck you so good, love.'
your gaze searched for that of price, yet all he did was raise an amused brow with a cigar hanging from his lips. lounging on the couch of your living room, cock pressing against the soft material of his pants.
be good, his eyes told you. make your husband proud, bunny.
and so you did. working so damn hard on your knees: the three greedy men taking their time with you as they fucked your throat in turns, grinning as they watched your mascara run down your pretty little cheeks. price's little wife exhausted yet glowing: eyes looking up at them as they slapped their cocks against your cheeks and watched you suck and lick on their balls, drops of precum messing up your pretty hair. 
so fucking good for them, weren't you?
price's good little wife. 
their sweet little slut.
though your thoughts were clouded from the alcohol rushing through your system, your body responded in all the ways that you knew made price proud of you. your thighs glimmering with your arousal, your lips parting in the warmest and softest of moans and gasps, as their hands palmed your throbbing cunt and tore off your panties and dress.
so greedy in the way that they forced your breasts on full display. mouths and hands attacking your sensitive nipples: low, rumbling laughs making you clench your thighs together, as you struggled to stay standing from the way that they were passing you between the three.
faster than you understood, you found yourself perched up on the coffee table. on your hands and knees, eyes aligned with those of price, as his hand moved to your lips.
"spit, sweetheart."
you did: your brows furrowing as price used your spit as lubricant, his hand moving to his cock as he laid back on the couch and touched himself.
touched himself to the sight of his squad mates going to fucking town with you. a cock—whose, you did not know nor did it matter—sliding into your drenched cunt, merciless in the way that it stretched you wide and open with a single snap of his hips. another one at your mouth, pressing against it: sliding in, impatient, as soon as you parted your lips. burying itself deep down your throat.
"keep your eyes open, bunny," price groaned, voice touched with dark amusement. "the boys wanna see you when they fuck you, don't they? wanna see what a damn good woman they've got."
the tip of johnny's cock pressed against your second hole, and your eyes widened from the realization. 
"it's not her first time," price chuckled, eyes never leaving yours. "she's never taken one in each hole, but she can handle it. can't you, love?"
your brows knitting, you nodded your head. no use in trying to talk with gaz's cock pushing deeper down your throat—his fingers tangling in your hair, as johnny pushed in. 
inch by inch as you focused on your breathing: your eyes locked with those of your husband. and you managed. of course you managed. you were price's good little wife, and his good little wife was made for taking three cocks simultaneously.
was made for pleasuring his friends, now fucking losing it on you. fucking into you as you moaned and mewled: as you came again and again, shaking and sobbing around them. covered in your own arousal and their cum, their spit, and your tears of sheer overwhelming pleasure.
and as they were finally done, it was clear to all five of you.
by then, you were no longer the wife of captain john price.
you were the sweet little wife of the entire 141.
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masterlist | requests are open 💌
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gay-dorito-dust · 26 days
Note
Hey um if it's cool could I request, Welt, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Gallager and Aventurine reacting to reader to questioning their interest in them?
An example: The confession
Them: I have feelings for you Reader: ... Um *shocked*.. I feel the same but.. *trails off* Them: but? Reader: *squints* you sure? About me? Please reconsider your choice. Them: ...
thank you if you decide to do this! No pressure though!
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Jing yuan would raise a brow before vaguely asking you to come with him somewhere he had been meaning to show you for a while and thought that now was the perfect time.
The place where he takes you was just like any other flower garden you’ve been to before but from the way the light glinted off of the waters surface, to the way the flowers blossomed in a variety of unique colours, and other small things like that made the flower garden look ethereal.
Jing yuan chuckled at your expression.
‘You see why I brought you here?’ He asks.
‘…no, not really, why?’ You replied, looking at him in confusion.
‘I’m trying to show you that while you may not think yourself as anything special, much like this flower garden, there are a multitude of unique things tailored to you that make you shine in the eyes of the ones who views you highly.’ He responded as he lends his hand out for a bird to perch on and softly smiled as it moved up to his shoulder where it sat comfortably, trying its hardest not to fall asleep.
‘For every flower is a beauty to behold regardless of their shapes, their size or their colour that even a daffodil can be considered of equal beauty of a roses in someone’s eyes.’ Jing Yuan continues, looking at you from the corner of his eye to see whether his words were sinking in. ‘And my flower believes themself to be a withering daffodil but to me, they’re a rose unlike any other. Stubborn, strong willed, but.’
‘But?’ You echoed, nervousness creeping through your veins as Jing Yuan moved in front of you and leant forward so that he was right next to your ear.
‘But they refuse to accept words of their worth and beauty from someone who cares about them very much, but I hope to change that soon enough, if they let me.’ He whispers as he presses a kiss to your cheek and pulling away to plant a kiss to your forehead.
Dan heng
While he’s happy that you felt the same way towards him, but felt his heart sink when you told him to reconsider his feelings for you.
‘If you are not ready for a relationship, then I understand, but I wish that you wouldn’t look down upon yourself when you’re anything but what your mind is telling you that you are.’ He says as he holds your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks as his eyes shone with concern. ‘Just know that I’ll always be by your side to resolve any issue you may have, for I do not wish for you to be burdened by this alone when I can help lessen it’s impact on you.’ He adds.
Dan Heng would do anything and everything in his power to make you see just how much you meant to him, even if it meant asking March to pull up pictures where his infatuation with you was glaringly obvious.
He would bring you poetry books and read out verses that perfectly describe his innermost thoughts and feelings towards you and how he views you on a daily basis. Dan Heng feels as though he could never convey just how truly unique and magnificent you were on his own. He’s tried but compared to the works of acclaimed poets, it just lacked fluidity in terms of the flow of words.
Everything else fades away when you entered his peripheral vision, almost as though he was made to notice your presence no matter where you were, only to just stare at you with a look that could only be akin to someone who had just found their other half after so long.
Welt would sit you down somewhere and want to talk about it because he truly didn’t think that these were your own words coming from your mouth.
He believes they were someone else’s and he hated that you had started believing this person’s words as reality, when they were the furthest thing from the truth in his eyes.
He wants to help you unlearn what everybody else has thought of you in the past because it doesn’t matter, their words hold no weight until you allow it to. No one’s perception of you was in any way shape or form a reflection of the real you, for every person you’ve ever had a positive effect on posses a different perceptions of you.
The only person who knew the real you was you but it was obvious to Welt that you might’ve forgotten who that version of you was by worrying yourself to death about the thoughts and opinions of everyone else. So Welt was more then happy to help you see that you were so much more then what you think.
He doesn’t know who wronged you in the past but they’ve left everlasting damage on your tender soul, but he was going to do everything he could in his power to show you the you that he sees every time upon seeing you.
Gallagher
‘I’ve got nothing to reconsider when it comes to you sweetheart.’ Gallagher was quick to tell you as he grabbed one of your hands, squeezing it. ‘Nothing at all.’
‘But-‘ you started.
‘No ifs, ands or buts.’ He interrupts you. ‘You’re prefect the way you are and I won’t hear otherwise because I’ll always go out of my way to remind you as to why i care about you, okay?’ He says as he lifted your hand to press a kiss to the back of it. ‘Just let me take care of you and get rid of those pesky thoughts residing in your head by telling them to fuck off.’
You couldn’t help but chuckle at this as you allowed yourself to find comfort in Gallagher’s side as you were greeted by his bodily warmth that made you into melting further against him. ‘I just don’t want to be a bother to you that’s all.’ You murmured, insecurity making your throat tightened, rendering it hard to swallow.
Gallagher felt his heart break for you as he brought his arms to your waist to rub soothing patterns into your side as he presses his face to the side of your head, pressed reassuring kisses there as he whispered sweet nothings as to why you were perfect, beautiful, sweet and caring of all whom you come across, whether they were deserving of it or not.
Aventurine
He understands more then you knew because the moment you admitted to liking him in the same breath as berating yourself, he was about to ask what was it about him that you liked exactly.
You were both in the same boat that was about to capsize from your shared self hatred for yourselves, but Aventurine would be damned if he let you think of yourself in any negative light when you’ve been nothing but a beacon of pure, genuine light for him since first introductions.
He’d much rather be the one drowning in self doubt than you.
He’d have you stand in front of a mirror and asks what you see.
‘Someone who’s lost themselves along the way,’ you answered solemnly, ‘someone who’s lost sight of who they once were because they were too caught up in the opinions of others and waiting on them hand and foot, only to revive nothing but scraps.’ You added and Aventurine couldn’t help but feel himself becoming infuriated, not at you but at the people who have made you feel as though you were lesser than, who made you feel as though you should be outcasted because you didn’t fit into their narrative.
However the sound of your sniffling brought him out of his need to get back at these people for you and saw that you were beginning to tear up and was quick to wipe them away before they fell. ‘Don’t weep for people who don’t have a heart, for they’ll always think themselves superior by materialistic means that they will inevitably loose to time and bad decisions.’ He tells you as he rests his head on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirrors reflective surface. ‘You on the other hand have something that they could never hope to obtain via money.’ He adds.
‘And what’s that?’ You asked, looking into his eyes and noting that despite their dullness, they were still the most beautiful and expressive pair of eyes you have ever seen.
‘Empathy, humility, compassion, kindness and an appreciation for the simple things that many overlook and possess the ability to see the beauty in broken things.’ Aventurine replies, his voice becoming soft towards the end, clearly referring to himself, as he held onto you tighter as though you’d slip from his grasp much like everyone else had. ‘So don’t compare yourself to others who should be looking towards you as an example instead.’
You moved your head to properly look at him, not use to seeing this side of him, so serious and determined to make you see reason. ‘You really mean that?’
Aventurine smiles as he kisses you on the nose, chuckling. ‘Of course! You’re my good luck charm, I’d be hopeless and in a whole lot of trouble without you.’ He says as he presses another kiss to your nose, adoring your expression as you scrunched up your face, muttering under his breath. ‘Cute.’
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paperultra · 8 months
Text
hammock.
Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader Word Count: 866 words Warnings: Kissing, slightly suggestive
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“You’re blushing.”
“I am?” Sanji gazes up at you, dreamy and distracted. “I didn’t realize.”
You hum. You’re only vaguely aware of the hammock’s sway, of the blanket slipping down your shoulders as you prop yourself up and place your hands on his cheeks. Warmth soaks into your palms like sunlight, and you tilt your head, thumbs drawing over the flush on his cheekbones and tapping gently.
“Don’t say this is because of me,” you tease.
His hands reach up to cover yours. “Then I’d be lying,” he replies, turning his head to kiss your fingertips, “and I would never lie about how you make me feel.”
“Not even if you hated me?”
“The day I hate you is the day I should be tied to an anchor and fed to the sharks.”
“That’s awful.”
“I know.” His eyes search your face, and they narrow as he murmurs, “Who could ever hate someone as gorgeous as you?”
(Whoever coined the phrase “flattery will get you nowhere” has never met Sanji, you’re sure of it.)
Leaning down, you press your lips to his nose, to his forehead, to each cheek. A contented sigh brushes past your ears as you do so.
Eventually, you make your way to the source of his sweet words. You pause, and Sanji opens his eyes as you hover above his lips, just shy of meeting them with your own.
“Something wrong, sweetheart?”
“No,” you say. “Just wanted to see your pretty eyes before I kiss you senseless.”
He stills. Then he laughs, the sound blooming from deep within his chest and staining your world with gold. “Well – aren’t you a charmer,” Sanji quips, stroking your waist and pecking your cheek. His words are softer than usual. “Careful with my heart, now.”
“Don’t worry,” you say, and you kiss him fully, drinking in the way his grip on you tightens and the way his breath stalls in his throat when you speak against his mouth. “It’s in good hands, I think.”
The kiss is just as warm as his cheeks. You feel drunk as you pull away, and Sanji lifts his head to chase your lips, whispering your name with the reverence of a believer.
“You guys mind doing that somewhere other than here?”
The two of you freeze in each other’s embrace.
You jolt out of it and push yourself up, accidentally knocking the breath out of Sanji in the process. He wheezes and curls up as you lock eyes with a very unimpressed swordsman.
“Z-Zoro! We”—you scramble to unrumple your shirt, which had ridden up underneath the blanket—“I’m sorry, we – we thought everyone was going to be in the lounge for a while.”
“You thought wrong.” Zoro strides past and drops his laundry on the couch. “This isn’t your personal bedroom, Sanji.”
“I’m aware of that,” Sanji replies, annoyance dripping from every syllable. “Now would you mind just stepping out for a few more minutes?”
“Sanji, it’s fine,” you whisper, patting his chest. “The mood is kinda killed now, anyway.”
He visibly droops. “I know.”
“Good.”
“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, mosshead.”
The room fills with a completely different kind of tension as Zoro crosses his arms at Sanji’s response.
You, still trying to cover up your embarrassment, move to block Sanji’s view, pushing his bangs away from his face and attempting to smooth out his frown lines. His cheeks are still flushed, though the color is quickly fading back to normal as his attention turns back to you.
“C’mon, Zoro wants to fold his laundry. Let’s go up to the lounge and see what the others are up to.”
“Is that what you really want to do?”
“Yeah.” (It is now, anyway.)
“… All right, then,” Sanji acquiesces.
With that, you push the blanket off and clamber out of the hammock, nearly tripping and falling flat on your face in your haste to do so. Sanji follows close behind, and once he’s on his feet, you turn to Zoro and give him another quick apology before you and Sanji leave the men’s room.
“Of all the times to be interrupted,” your companion mutters as the two of you head to the lounge. He takes your hand in his and interlaces your fingers. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s nobody’s fault. Ships don’t have a lot of privacy …” You think back to the moment Zoro spoke up and groan, burying your face in your free hand. “I’m just embarrassed he caught us like that. I didn’t even hear him come down.”
“Me neither.” Sanji lets out an irritated sigh and then looks over at you; his displeasure softens. “At the very least, I’ll take it to mean you were enjoying yourself.”
Your face heats up. “Of course,” you say quickly. “I like our alone time."
“I like it too.” He squeezes your hand and leans over to whisper into your ear. “Next time, I could be on top, so I can hide you away if anyone walks in unannounced.”
“Wh – Sanji! Don’t say it like that!”
The man grins as you smack his arm playfully, planting a kiss to your temple as penance.
“Just evening the score, sweetheart.”
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erwinsvow · 2 months
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“rafe? can you come over? i think i’m in trouble.” your phone call to rafe is as cryptic as you’ve ever sounded, and you never call him with such a vague message. 
“m’coming. stay there, don’t move.” he hangs up before he can ask you any more questions, mind spinning with a thousand thoughts while he speeds over to your place. are you hurt? was it because of something he did? 
he doesn’t hesitate a second, letting himself in and heading up to your bedroom, finding you sitting on the floor near your bed, wiping your eyes and staring down at a piece of white plastic in your hands. the world stops spinning for a moment when you look up at him.
rafe crouches down to you, bringing you into a hug while you cry on his shoulder. it’s not until you pull away, looking down at the stick—a pregnancy test, he realizes with his heart dropping into his stomach—that he understands what’s going on.
the two of you remain like that, silent, staring at each other, while your eyes well up with tears and you chew your cheeks with anxiety. he knows you, knows you’re terrified he’s gonna up and leave, terrified that you’ve somehow disappointed him. 
“hey, hey.” rafe tilts your chin with his hand, making you look up at him, using his other hand to wipe away your tears. “s’gonna be fine. we’re gonna be okay.” 
he’s actually saying it to reassure himself too, heart thudding in his ears. you, pregnant. he should have expected this, from how often the two of you fuck around with a condom long forgotten. it’s never gotten to this point, so the thought had sort of slipped away.
sort of. he can’t deny that it’s all too easy to cum inside you when you’re begging for it, that it’s his own choice too. the idea of you pregnant was a scary thought before, but now that it’s actually happening, actually a reality, it doesn’t seem that way. 
a vision of you—belly swollen and walking around in a pretty dress, your only care in the world what kind of baby clothes you want to buy and what color he should paint the nursery—dances around in his head. he feels his shoulders relax, his grip on your hands tighten.
“it’s gonna be okay, kid. we’ll go today, get the paperwork and get married. we can do all that wedding shit later. and we can find our own place, for the three of us. i’m gonna take care of you, alrigh’? you won’t have to worry about a damn thing.” he runs a hand through his buzz, settling on the back of his head. “well, besides the baby, i guess. and, uh, i can fit a carseat in the truck. i bet wheezie’s crap is still in tannyhill, somewhere.. i'll have to find it. and tell your parents. shit.” 
your breathing evens out, staring up at your boyfriend with big eyes. he brings you into a kiss, whispering more reassuring words against your skin.
“we’re gonna be fine, okay? you and me,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours. you melt into rafe’s touch.
“rafe?”
“yeah, kid?”
“is this a bad time to say april fools?”
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otto-s-alskling · 2 months
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TF141 X Hardworker!Reader
"Their Sleepyhead"
You're a hard worker, everyone knows that. God, even Price had to carry you a few times to bring you to bed (and not in *that* way, get your mind out the gutter!) But your insistent attitude of working till you collapse is a trait that the 141 is aware that will never go away, not when they've seen you do it for over three years.
Price
You have your office close to his, connected with an adjoining door which was lucky because you bought your own coffee machine. Majority of the time, you're brewing him a fresh cup of coffee, black with a hint of sugar to cut the full bitterness.
He loves listening to you shuffling and singing next door, sometimes singing back to your songs when duets are playing from your phone but he'd be damn and hide in a hole before he'd let you know that he sings along to you and your velvety voice with his gruff one.
But this also includes him actually hearing you when your head finally thuds down on the desk when you refused to stop working from 5AM till wee hours of the night. He'd peek through the adjoining door first before sighing and picking you up, cradling you close before carrying you out the offices, ignoring looks from the other soldiers still awake late at night. Gaz would immediately walk up to help, opening the doors for Price so he can tuck you into bed, removing your boots before turning off the lamp light. He'd sneak a forehead kiss before closing the door and walking back to the offices, ignoring his racing heartbeat.
Soap
Our Scot is a freaking sweetheart (this is the hill I'll die on.) If he knows Cap isn't in office or in a mission or conference somewhere, you bet your ass he'd delegate himself into keeping company, literally. He'd play on his phone in your office couch, nothing too loud but just enough to be there.
Talks will be nonstop and he'd teach you some Scottish slangs too, much to a certain Skull masked teammate. He'd even teach you traditions and if he had the time and the energy, he'd do your hair into some Scottish Braids. (Look em up, they're GORGEOUS.)
He'd pause from time to time, get a snack or something and he'd come back with something for you too! And if you fell asleep, you bet he'd transfer you over to the couch and find your emergency blanket and tuck you in.
He'd brush your hair out of your face and plant a kiss on your cheek before sitting on the floor next to the couch, just playing on his phone till he fall asleep himself or if he gets hungry and get another snack. He'd wait till you wake up, and not even Ghost can drag him out the room. Someone had to guard the team's Bonnie after all.
Gaz
If you think he wouldn't help out with the paperwork, you'd be fucking wrong. Being the youngest meant you two are the closest, age wise anyways. Would pause halfway on working to show you something in TikTok or play some random playlist on YouTube or Spotify just to break the silence in the room.
He'd being his own snacks, which also includes a big bar of Cadbury. Sometimes Lindt if he got to visit in the nearby city. Work goes faster so he always try to help out on hell week so you wouldn't handle the full brunt of the workload.
If you fall asleep, he'd switch the music to a lullaby or a soft classical music, keeping you asleep as long as he can anyways. Like Soap, he'd transfer you to the couch but he'd push an armchair flush against the couch to block you in from falling like a pseudo bed (or fort or crib. Do people still do this?)
Tucks you in gently and continues his half of the paperwork before joining you on the couch and cuddling you to sleep. He's not one to pass up in getting to sleep in your arms after all.
Ghost
This man trusts with his life. (He'd never say it out loud.) He wasn't really warm with the idea of having a support member in the team, especially one who's specialty ranges from medic to sniper to assistant. Like how is that even possible? So when he realized that you're one of the most hardworking person he'd ever met, respect was earned... And affection.
It was around halfway the second year when he showed his face to you, the heat surge in the office making it annoying to have the mask. He didn't make a fuss so you didn't as well, just working along with him and Price in the Captain's office and hope to survive the heatwave enough. Door was locked so he was confident enough to do it even if Price did raise an eyebrow for a moment before shrugging it off.
By the third year, he already made it a habit to remove his mask once he got you to your room, finally dragging you to bed even before you fall asleep on the desk. You'd grumble and complain but when he glares you down, you relent anyways, not like you can fight him back easily when he's the largest amongst your teammates. So against your unnecessary complaints, he'd spoon you till you fall asleep, much thanks for your exhausted body and mind. Once asleep, he'd sneak a nap for an hour or two himself before letting you be, heading back to his own room, but not after sneaking a kiss to the hair and hand. For him, you're his hardworking lovie, not that he'd let it slip out to everyone else.
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sanguineterrain · 9 months
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window pains | jason todd
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Summary: He's got a habit of coming in through the window. You want him to start staying... and using the door. 
Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings/tags: injured Jason Todd (he's okay dw), angst, pining, mentions of Jason's death.
A/N: sooo.... i guess i'm a dc girlie now. just a reminder that every character i write will always be 18+!!! this is probably canon divergent but we make our own canon.
If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡
the divider
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"Can't you enter my apartment like a normal person?"
"You know who you're talking to, right?"
"You're getting blood on my carpet, Todd."
It doesn't really matter. He'll come back and scrub it out as soon as his ribs are whole. And fuck if he's not good at getting blood out of surfaces. Jason Todd ought to start a housekeeping column. 
You catch his limp as he climbs over the windowsill. It almost topples him, but he gets to the couch before it does. He doesn't make a sound. 
That had freaked you out the first few times he'd stumbled through your window. Once, he came with part of a windshield wiper impaled in his shoulder. He'd lain on your couch so still and so quiet, you'd thought Red Hood had croaked in your apartment. Which would not have been a good look for you. Or maybe it would. Depends on who you ask. 
Sometimes you want to tell him to make sounds. To hiss and grunt and complain. To grab your wrist so you'll slow down as you pull thread through flesh. 
But it's not your place to request such a thing. You don't know where you reside in Jason Todd's life, but it's not somewhere where you can request to hear him hurt. 
Outwardly, his injuries aren't bad-looking. He takes off his helmet and tosses it somewhere under the coffee table. You offer a hand to help him lie down on the couch—he doesn't take it. 
"Jesus Christ, Jay." You suck in a sharp breath and peel back his bloody suit. "What'd you do?"
"Took a midnight stroll in the Botanical Gardens. Why, what'd you do?"
You frown, eyebrows pinching in the center of your forehead. Jason's stomach is mottled with purple and red bruises. There's a sticky gash right above his hip. A knife. Or a sword, maybe. Apparently, swords are commonplace in Gotham. 
"How'd they get you?" you ask. 
It's a rule-break. Jason's number one policy: don't ask questions.
You always do. Even when it was new, this… thing between you two, you'd ask. Who were they? Why did they hurt you? Did you hurt them back?
The last one, you always know the answer to. 
"There were, like, ten of them," he says. "Cut me some slack, will ya?" 
He has a cut across his lips. A ringed finger that caught on his skin, you guess. You wonder if he'd wince if you kissed him. If he'd wince at the pain or the kiss itself. If you'd know the difference. 
Rage suddenly cuts through you. It makes your hands careless, cruel; you pull the bandage around his waist too tight. Jason coils up slightly. 
"Jesus—ever heard of bedside manner?" he asks, looking at you through his lashes. 
"Ever heard of not breaking into someone's apartment and making them patch you up?"
"I don't make you," Jason says easily. "You wouldn't do it if you didn't want to."
That only increases your rage. Because he's right. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be. You'd have kicked him out four first aid kits ago if you minded. 
You yank down his shirt and pack up the kit. Jason shifts on the couch. A sliver of skin above his waistband is still exposed. You have to turn your head to force your gaze away. 
"No bandaids?" he asks. "All my cuts'll be exposed to the elements."
"You can put them on yourself." 
His cheek could use one. And his eyebrow. You're not in the mood. 
Jason doesn't say anything in response to that. You get up to put the kit back under the sink. 
"Can I crash here?" 
"Do what you want," you say, suddenly exhausted. Like it's you who just went six rounds with Gotham's scumbags.
You peek over the kitchen counter when you hear rustling and the couch springs squeak. Jason leans heavily on the arm of the couch, reaching for the window. You walk over and stand in front of him. 
"What're you doing?" you ask. 
"You want me to go," he says flatly. "So I'm going."
"I didn't say that, I said—"
"I can read between the lines." 
"If you could read between the lines as well as you think you can, we wouldn't be in this situation," you say. 
"What situation?"
You turn your head. "Nothing."
Jason steps towards the window. You block him again. 
"What is the matter with you?" you ask. "You're injured. Lie down."
"I'm not your responsibility," he says, glaring. "I'm leaving."
"No, you're not. And since you're allergic to using the door, you don't have a choice."
Jason's eyebrow rises. "Are you saying you'd physically prevent me from leaving?"
You lift your chin. "If that's what it takes."
"Hm. Can't tell if your confidence is stupid or brave."
"Lie the fuck down, Todd."
His lip curls. "I don't stay where I'm not welcome."
Sometimes you forget how young he is. Not that you're not also young, but, well… you don't feel your youth as acutely as other people your age might. It's something you two have in common. 
Here, in the gritty glow of Gotham, you are reminded that Jason Todd died once. Before he finished school. Before he fell in love. 
Your stomach churns every time you see that Y-shaped scar on his torso, strapped over him like a chain. 
"I didn't say that you're not welcome," you say. 
"Yeah, well, you didn't have to."
He sags against the couch and it occurs to you that he's as exhausted as you feel. 
"Can you just—" You touch his bicep. He winces even though there's no injury there. "Can you just lie down?" 
You stare at each other for another minute. Slowly, Jason lays down. His eyes are alert instead of heavy with sleep. Instantly, you feel guilty for making him think he has to be cautious around you. His hand curls protectively over his stomach. 
"Do you want a blanket?" you ask. 
He squints. "It's August."
"I know, I… I thought maybe the blood loss made you cold." 
"'M fine. Perks of being risen from the dead." 
You watch him get settled for a minute. He shifts his weight to his uninjured side and meets your gaze. His eyes are gray in the weak light. 
"You're tired of me," he says. 
Your head snaps up. "No, I'm not."  
"You are."
"I'm not tired of you, Jay."
You see it. The fear. He thinks this is the last time you'll let him in. He doesn't know you can't lock him out. You won't. 
You get up and go to get the kit from the sink again. Jason follows your movement the whole time. His face scrunches in confusion when you sit in front of the couch and unzip the kit. 
You pull out the tiny red bandaids. You'd bought them as a joke, initially. It had made Jason laugh and that had been reason enough to keep buying them. And then he let you actually put them on.
You peel the adhesive off of one and gently stick it on his cheek. He blinks at you, thick, dark lashes kissing the corners of his eyes. 
"I'm not tired of you," you say softly. 
"I'd be tired of me." 
"You keep this city safe. How could I be tired of Gotham's defender?"
Jason scowls and turns his head into the cushion before you can put the second bandaid.  
"I'm not its defender. The others protect this city a hundred times better. Nightwing does it with a smile on his face."
"I like that you go out there even when it's hard, Jay," you say. 
He doesn't respond. You lean in, so close that you can count the freckles on his neck. 
"Can I finish putting the bandaids on?" you ask. 
"I don't need 'em."
"You do. You need another on your forehead."
"It'll heal fine without it."
Your shoulders bunch like a cat on defense. You grab his cheek (gently, always gently) and his head whips to yours in surprise. 
"Jason Todd, I am not tired of you. I'm tired of the fact that you only come by when you need fixing."
He scowls. "I never asked you to fix me. If you want me to leave, I'll leave."
"I don't want you to leave, I want you to stay!" you burst. 
Jason scoffs. "No, you don’t. I'll overstay my welcome real fast."
"Maybe I care about you on purpose!" you say, voice rising. "Maybe I didn't stumble through a window; maybe I walked through the door and bought the bandaids and learned how to stitch wounds because I wanted to."
He suddenly looks overcome by grief. The agony in his face startles you. 
"I don't know how to use the door anymore," he says quietly. "All I do is stumble through windows."
Your hand slips off of his cheek. Jason closes his eyes; they fly open when you stick the second bandaid above his eyebrow. 
"You can come in any way you want to," you say, face an inch away from his. "As long as you come back to me."
His gaze darts to your mouth. You don't kiss him hard. He breaks anyway.
You avoid the right side of his mouth entirely, not wanting to pull at his cut. Jason shudders into your mouth. You cup his pulse through his neck and it quickens.
His eyes are wet when you pull away. His chest heaves like he's been swinging through the city. 
"I wanna try to use the door," he says. 
You touch the bandaid on his cheek, humming. 
"Then I'll leave it unlocked." 
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helluvapoison · 3 months
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Kisses
leaving kiss a mark on adam, lute and lucifer
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• He meets this weird in between where he doesn’t get makeup and will complain about it sometimes
• (People are looking at you, if you wanted his attention you have it now, you don’t need it, blah blah blah)
• But he also loves seeing you wear it
• Secretly, he revels in the way people stare because you’re his!
• At his concerts, Adam needs a kiss on the cheek right before he hops on stage. It completes the look he’s reaching for and acts as his good luck charm
• Outside of that, you don’t let him near your lips because you know he just wants to mess it up!
• “C’mon baby, it’s all I want in the whole world!”
• “Sucks to be you then because there’s absolutely no chance in—!”
• You hold the brush end of a broom at Adam as he makes a grab at you, laughing so hard he doubles over
• “You’re too easy, babe! Quit overreacting, I just want a little smooch before I head out.”
• “Oh no, I don’t think so! You throw a tantrum when everyone looks at me. Don’t you think they’ll be staring when you have a giant kiss mark on your lips?”
• “Who said it had to be the lips?”
• You raise the broom over your head in warning
˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• It’s comical how cautious she gets around you when you wear lipstick
• One would think you’re carrying a weapon around, what with the way she keeps you at arms length
• PDA disgusts her. Technically, sure, it doesn’t count but the gist of it sets Lute on edge
• She can’t remember if that’s Heaven’s doing or her own, but she would be mortified if someone caught her with even a hint of lipstick on her face
• She would love a kiss goodbye but doesn’t trust your devious mind
• “I have to go!”
• “Then go!” You laugh, hopping over the couch to continue chasing her
• Lute screeches with laughter when you get too close for comfort, “Don’t you dare!”
• You wouldn’t, you just like teasing her
• You hold up your hands to placate her, tilting your head to the side so she can plant a kiss on your cheek instead
• “You better believe you’re getting a big kiss right there when you get back.” You say, deadly serious, tapping her cheek
• Lute wouldn’t have it any other way
˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• There’s nothing he wants more than for you to have a constant claim on him
• A touch of you somehow, someway, somewhere on him ignites a visceral reaction
• Lipstick marks are no acception
• In fact they’re possibly the worst thing you could do to Lucifer if he had something that needed to get done that day
• One on his cheek— oh but now you have to make the other one even!
• Could you plop one on his forehead? How about his nose? Chin? Lips?
• Lucifer will stare at himself in the mirror, admiring your work with a dazed expression and a heavy blush
• He wants pictures too! Lots of selfies, please and thank you
• You thought I was joking? No, the rest of the day goes by like this
• “Waitwaitwait!” “You missed a spot!” “I need one more picture!”
• He crosses his arm and pouts as you wipe his face clean
• You’re careful not to wear lipstick if you know he has to go out because you can’t not give him a kiss goodbye, that would be ludacris!
• Lucifer checks to see if you’re wearing any too but for the opposite reason, disappointment evident on his face
• “Later,” You promise, pressing your lips to his temple and effectively melting away his dismay
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ 🐌 my friend! i personally don’t think these characters would be able to get away with having kiss marks on them in public but i didn’t want you to be dissapointed!! :(( i hope this is ok!!! xoxo
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aphroditessaturn · 10 months
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miguel’s biggest kinks?
OKAY, we gotta start with the biggest – which should come as no surprise...
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breeding — I know this one's hella obviously but it is what it is. this man has the biggest breeding kink in the whole marvel world and you can't tell me otherwise. Miguel will have his thick arms wrapped around your waist, you sitting on his cock and pressed against his chest while your head is nuzzled into the crook of his neck. He's gonna hold you in place and whisper the filthiest things into your ear while he fucks into you at a brutal pace, "mhm, cariño, gonna make you a mami, make sure you're round and full with my load," like that man is living for you be pregnant, "you like that huh, cariño? all swollen with my child...don't worry I will fuck you again, and again, and again until it takes," that's a promise like "I will pump you full with my cum until all you can remember is my cock."
creampie — is that even a kink? anyway. After fucking you for several hours to make sure you're pregnant he will sit in front of your legs. have them spread wide open as you twitch and Miguel? yeah he's watching his cum drip, literally drip from your red, swollen and fucked out cunt. you? Well you're a blabbering mess, can't even string a normal thought, "look at you, filthy girl...you're all messy cariño. you're head is just empty, nothing up there huh?" he taps his finger against your forehead which you barley register.
size — I know this one was obvious, but god how could that man not have one? his broad shoulders, thick thighs, big hands – huge everything. And yeah, he's gonna mock for it, "think I'm not gonna fit in your tight cunt cariño?" "look how tiny you are," Miguel will have his hand on your cheek, thumb tracing along your bottom lip while he thrusts into you at a brutal pace. "you look so pretty, stuffed with my fat cock."
lacations — idk I see this happening after you had your first child together and your breasts are just so fucking full. You're complaining about it all day, the baby is sleeping and you don't wanna wake it. That's where our Miguel comes in, he's watching you with hungry eyes that never leave your breast. And finally when you're in bed, short discarded somewhere and in a heated makeout session. Miguel trails kisses down your throat to your sensitive breast, you whine out his name. Then his lips are closing around your nipple, sucking the milk from you, tasting you on a while different level. "Cariño, you taste delicious," this will be a mix with his cock buried inside you and desperately drinking from your breasts
biting — how can we not talk about biting? hellooo that man will always, always has his mouth on you. can't even stand the thought of not kissing you, biting you – sinking his teeth into your skin. He will leave marks, make sure everyone knows you're his. Miguel also makes a lot of noise, especially when he's head deep in your neck. It doesn't matter if you're bouncing in his cock, he's fucking you from behind, splitting you open on your back or have his mouth devour your cunt. He will find a moment to bite your ass, thigh, back, neck, breast, belly – anywhere he can get.
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these are the main kinks, I have more if anyone is interested!
remember my inbox is always open for any thots, ideas, news – literally anything – give me the filth!
reblogs or comments are welcomed!
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sttoru · 9 months
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Toji x reader kids first nightmare
⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff.
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“ugh,” toji groans as his peaceful slumber was interrupted by small cries. it was currently 4:35am and the two of you were cuddled up underneath the blankets after putting megumi to bed a couple hours earlier. toji’s beefy arms were tightly wrapped around your bare figure, his vision blurry and his voice hoarse from the lack of rest once abruptly awoken. you started to stir too, however toji quickly soothes you back to sleep;
“ssh, ssh, i’ll take care of ‘m.” you were usually the one who instantly rushed over to your son during the night and it made your husband feel bad. you already do so much around the house, the least he could do in return was take over this simple task.
toji gets up with a quiet yawn, scratching his head as he tries to find his boxers somewhere on the floor. he manages to spot them scattered near the bed along with your own pile of clothes; “comin’..” toji grumbles, almost stumbling over his own feet while hurriedly pulling up his boxers.
the soft, weak cries of the little baby were at their loudest in the nursery. megumi was in his crib, hands aimlessly flailing around, cheeks red and tears staining both his face and bedsheets. toji’s heart ached at the sight once the lights flickered on.
“i gotta say—y’re breaking my heart there, kid.” the man sighs deeply and reaches down to lift megumi up in his (hopefully) consoling embrace. he’s seen others have nightmares before, his wife being an example, but there’s something about seeing a child—his child—in distress that makes him doubt himself as a dad. he doesn’t have any experience with kids and it showed in specific moments like these. he has no clue on how to handle a child who just got awoken from a bad dream. though, as always, he tries.
“shhh,” shushing is a simple first step that anyone could think of; “it’s okay, daddy’s here,” reassuring the little one of his presence is a decent second step, although there’s no guarantee megumi could understand. toji’s mind was working overtime as he tried to recall the methods you used to help megumi quiet down
he eventually decides to simply sit on the nearby rocking chair, leaning back against it while carefully swaying his son back and forth. his lips were brushing against megumi’s ear to whisper sweet, reassuring things in hopes it would calm the kid.
“must’ve been scary, hm?” toji mumbles, hand gently patting the back of megumi’s head. the baby was still crying, however the volume and intensity of the sobs had decreased greatly the moment he was in his dad’s arms;
“i know.. i know, shhh.” toji continues after placing megumi’s little body close to his bare chest, the chair still moving back and forth slowly—the motions being calming for both father and son.
a couple minutes pass by and megumi was finally back asleep on toji’s torso; it seemed like hearing his dad’s breathing and voice was more than enough to soothe his nerves. toji had his big hands placed securely on megumi’s body, head held low to kiss his son’s forehead as his own eyes started to droop.
“g’night..”
before toji even realised, he had started to doze off as well. he made sure to hold his son tightly—cuddling up to the tiny boy in an attempt to keep him safe and sound from any bad nightmares.
“..love you.”
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