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thankful for drew starkey & joe burrow.
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btw it's so fucking stupid you can be anxious physically in your body even after you've decided mentally you don't care. I'm supposed to be in charge here
I love that all the off campus boys are certified eaters.
one of many days
SUMMARY You’re avoidant, Logan’s anxious. Somehow, you both make it work.
PAIRING john logan x gender neutral!reader
GENRE comfort, fluff, established relationship
WORD COUNT 1.1k
CONTENT there's slight angst if you squint but overall, it's fluffy, one swear word, communication of emotions over the phone, reader's outfit goes to waste, the contact name angel is his pet name for reader! no use of Y/N
AUTHOR’S NOTE i gave into the off campus craze. sue me! hope you guys enjoy this quick lil fic :)
Logan had left the comfort of your dormitory with the promise of coming right back after practice to pick you up for a planned evening out.
About forty minutes before your agreed time to meet, your phone buzzes on your desk. Your heart flutters in anticipation.
my no. 22 Hey baby Bad news, I can’t make it to dinner. Coach wants us to train overtime today Ik we’ve been looking forward to this for so long I’m really sorry I’ll make it up to you
You blink at the sight of his messages coming through, a pit of disappointment opening up in your stomach, widening by the second.
It takes you three minutes to read them over and over again and two minutes to respond.
angel oh ok i’ll see you when you get here afterwards then Take care and good luck
Immediately after your last message, an incoming call from the man of the hour (and your every hour after that) pops up. You answer after the third ring.
There’s the usual distant chatter in the background; he wastes no time to point out the obvious. “You’re upset.”
“I’m not.” You are.
how it feels finding everyone attractive in off campus
I NEED HIM SO SO BAD. HE'S A NEED.
They should block chatgpt on uni WiFi the way they used to block coolmathgames
why is my pussy always aching for something to be inside of her omg girl shut upp
Never related so hard
my phone has been on vibrate since 2006
Sleepy
Pairing: John Logan x Reader
Word Count: 1478
Request open!
Off campus masterlist
John was clingy when he was tired in a way that was almost unfair.
When he was fully awake, he acted like he had his life together. He was calm, easygoing, a little too charming for his own good, and just smug enough to be annoying when he wanted to be.
But when he was half asleep, all of that disappeared.
What was left was soft, warm, and deeply attached to you.
You discovered this on a Sunday morning when you tried to get out of bed before he woke up.
The room was still dim, the blankets tangled around your legs, and John was sprawled out beside you in one of those ridiculous positions that somehow looked comfortable only to him. His hair was a mess against the pillow, his face turned toward you, one arm draped over your waist like he had been holding on all night without letting go.
You moved carefully, trying not to wake him.
It almost worked.
You had one foot on the floor when a hand caught the back of your shirt.
You froze.
“Where are you going?” John mumbled.
His voice was rough with sleep, low and thick and far too cute for someone who had already decided to ruin your escape plan.
You looked back at him. “I was getting up.”
His eyes were barely open, just a sleepy sliver of blue looking at you like you had personally offended him. “No, you weren’t.”
You blinked. “Yes, I was.”
John groaned and tightened his grip on your shirt just enough to make his point. “It’s too early.”
“It’s nine.”
“That is early.”
You tried not to smile. “You have practice in an hour.”
He made a sleepy sound that was halfway between a sigh and a complaint. “I know.”
“Then you should get up.”
John opened his eyes a little more, looked at you for one long second, and then shook his head against the pillow. “Absolutely not.”
You laughed quietly. “John.”
He reached for you with the hand that had been holding your shirt and hooked it around your waist instead, tugging you back toward the bed with slow, sleepy determination.
You let out a surprised sound as your balance shifted. “John, hey,”
But he had already succeeded.
He pulled you back against him until your back hit his chest and his arm settled across your middle like that was where it belonged. Then, without even opening his eyes all the way, he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder.
It was so gentle and so absentminded that it nearly made you melt on the spot.
“Five more minutes,” he mumbled.
You let out a laugh. “You always say that.”
“Because it always works.”
“It does not always work.”
John hummed, clearly unconcerned by the truth of that statement. His hand slid over your stomach once, then settled there, warm and steady. “It works on you.”
You turned your head just enough to look at him over your shoulder. “That is manipulation.”
He smiled against your shoulder without opening his eyes. “That is love.”
You gave him a scandalized look that he absolutely did not see. “You are impossible.”
John’s answer was a sleepy kiss to the back of your shoulder blade.
You made a helpless noise, half laugh and half sigh, and he took that as permission to cling harder. One of his legs tangled with yours under the blanket, and suddenly there was no chance of getting up unless you physically fought him for it.
Which, judging by the way he was holding onto you, would have been a losing battle.
“John,” you said, trying for stern and failing a little, “you need to let me get up.”
He buried his face for a second against the top of your shoulder. “No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
You twisted a little in his arms so you could look at him properly. “You are acting like a giant sleepy baby.”
That got his attention.
John blinked at you, still very much half asleep, then frowned with all the seriousness he could manage while looking like he had just woken from the deepest nap of his life.
“I am not a baby,” he said.
“You’re pouting.”
“I’m not pouting.”
“You are absolutely pouting.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re mean in the morning.”
You laughed and reached up to smooth his hair back from his forehead. “You’re the one refusing to let go of me.”
He caught your hand before you could pull away and pressed a kiss into your palm, eyes still heavy with sleep. “You’re warm.”
That made your expression soften immediately.
John noticed, because of course he did. Even half asleep, he was still annoyingly good at that.
He tightened his hold around your waist again and added in a much smaller voice, “And you were gone.”
You paused.
Gone.
It was such a simple thing to say, but it landed in your chest with quiet force.
You looked at him. “I was just getting up.”
“I know.”
His thumb moved absently against your side. “Still.”
That made the teasing in your expression ease away. “Still?”
John opened one eye just enough to meet yours, and there was something so soft there it made your throat go a little tight.
“Yeah,” he said. “Still.”
You let yourself relax back into him then, your hand settling over his where it rested at your waist. For a moment the room was quiet except for the sound of breathing and the faint noise of the city outside the window.
Then John sighed dramatically and pulled you closer with both arms this time, like he had finally decided subtlety was overrated.
“Okay,” he muttered into your hair. “Maybe five more minutes.”
You smiled into the pillow. “Only five?”
He was quiet for a second.
Then, very seriously, he said, “Maybe ten.”
You laughed. “That is not what you just said.”
“I changed my mind.”
“You’re negotiating in your sleep.”
“I’m very persuasive.”
You turned your head again and glanced at him. “You are very sleepy.”
“That too.”
He kissed your shoulder once more, this one lingering a little longer than the others, and you could feel the warmth of it right through your skin.
There was something impossible about the way John got like this when he was tired. He was still John, still quietly funny, still handsome in that unfair way that made you stare at him when you thought he wasn’t looking, but the edges were softer. Needier. More honest somehow.
Like sleep took away the part of him that tried so hard not to need anyone.
You reached back and let your fingers run lightly through his hair. “You know you’re being clingy, right?”
His answer was a sleepy grunt. “Mm-hm.”
“And you don’t care?”
Another kiss landed against your shoulder.
“Nope.”
That made you grin.
You shifted a little, just enough to face him, and found him looking at you with one eye open and the most stubborn expression you had ever seen on someone who was technically barely awake.
“What?” he asked.
You smiled. “Nothing.”
He clearly did not believe you. “That means something.”
“I just think it’s cute.”
John stared at you for a beat, then went entirely still.
That was your first warning.
The second was the way his mouth twitched.
The third was when he suddenly reached out, grabbed you around the waist, and hauled you fully back into bed with him in one smooth motion.
You let out a startled laugh as he rolled closer, one arm pinning you gently against him while his face buried itself in the crook of your neck.
“John!”
“Too late,” he mumbled.
You were laughing harder now, trying and failing to push at his shoulder. “You are ridiculous.”
He made a low sleepy sound that was suspiciously close to a hum of contentment. “Mm. You love me.”
Your laughter softened.
You looked down at him, at the way his eyes had drifted shut again, at the way his arm stayed tight around your waist as if he was afraid the world might steal you away if he loosened his grip.
He was so obviously half asleep, and yet somehow he still managed to sound completely certain.
You brushed your fingers over his cheek. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “I do.”
John’s eyes opened just enough to catch your face, and something warm and lazy spread across his expression.
Then, because he was apparently determined to ruin every attempt you made at being coherent, he pressed one final kiss to your shoulder and sighed like he had finally found exactly where he wanted to be.
“Good,” he murmured. “Now stay.”
And with that, John closed his eyes again, held you tighter, and went right back to sleep like keeping you in bed was the most natural thing in the world.
watermelon sugar - KA12
pairing: andrea kimi antonelli x gf!fem!reader
summary: kimi is addicted to being between your legs. any place and any time. and no matter how many times you pretend it pisses you off, you're kinda obsessed with it too.
warnings: fluff, poor humour, established relationship, 18+ (minors dni), teasing, kimi basically being a munch, eating out, fingering, overstimulation (f. receiving), reader and kimi obsessed with it tbh // poorly proof read as usual
word count: 2.5k
a/n: based on this request! short and sweet bc i'm breaking out in chronic hives—so enjoy!
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Kimi always rested his head on your lap. To the naked eye, it was a sweet thing. The way he cradled into your lap, finding peace on your soft skin, feeling your hand comb through his curls. Anyone would think it was pure bliss and that he was the luckiest man alive.
But no one knew the real truth. The sick, twisted reason he kept head on your lap.
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i need feminism because when jesus does a magic trick it’s a goddamn miracle but when a woman does a magic trick she gets burned at the stake
fabulous
i mean they did also kill jesus. that was a pretty significant thing that happened. like i understand where you’re coming from here but they very much did kill jesus.
#HAPPY GOOD FRIDAY