#Like how when people kiss one person's leg goes up

[lanterns-and-daydreams]

Do you guys think Cardan's tail wags when Jude kisses him or is that just me?

[arminsumi]

. . . 𝐬𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

► 'Love, love, love, I want your love... you and me could write a bad romance.'

+ Warnings: MDNI/18+ content, smut, kinda slowburn/enemies to lovers, bullying/toxicity, obsession, dom → sub!Gojo, some degradation, namecalling (sl★t), rough s★x, riding his abs, f★ngering, some hatef★cking

+ Tags: @ciggrx

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡?

This is what you've been wondering since you started at this college. It feels surreal, watching how people fawn over 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, how they desperately — desperately — follow after his wake. His hoard of brainwashed admirers make it even harder for you to stand up to him, because they're convinced that he can do no wrong.

𝐒𝐞𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞, so your attempts to retaliate just earn a wide grin from him. He just thinks you're cute, assuming you're flirting with him, so he purrs back "Don't turn me on now." like you've just confessed how much you want to ride him.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬, ridiculing everything you like. Your music taste? "That's so basic." he scoffs, but when he goes home that night he's listening to each and every song that you mentioned, thinking of you.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 voice is always sweetened when he talks to you. No, it's not sweetened for anyone else; his words are so venomous but those saccharine syllables throw you off.

𝐇𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, hurrying to his car as soon as morning classes end to jerk off in the backseat. Leaky and twitchy, his cock stands upright with only one thought on its mind and that's to be inside you. He throws his head back while giving himself quick strokes, thinking about all the times you've sassed him back, flirted back. Tightening his jaw, Satoru gets off to the fantasy of you obsessing over him — instead of how it really is.

𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞, openly admitting at parties that he'd "show you heaven" if he had fifteen minutes alone with you. Legs spread wide as he's sat, staring, taking a sip of his drink, Satoru whispers something about you to Suguru — causing his best friend to blush and smack his shoulder, muttering a scornful "Don't talk about girls like that, Satoru."

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲, where Satoru's attention is just plastered all over you. You're late? He's asking people where Miss Bunny is. You walk into the room? He sees you before you see him. You say something? He's straining his ears. You're dressed in a tight dress? He's thinking about peeling it off your body just before he slides into you. Oh, you brought a date with? He's going to mutter some terrible rumor into their ear so that by the end of the night you're all alone, just like he wants.

Once your date is gone, Satoru will make his way over to you, slide into the seat that's too small for two people — he'll press his thigh against yours, leaning over you like he's got no sense of personal space. "All alone? Need me to keep you company?" he grins, looking down at you. It only makes him grin wider when you playfully push his face away, "Have you been kissing girls all night with breath this bad?"

"Don't like the smell of liquor, huh? Then I take it you're not down for... ah never mind." he stops mid-sentence, just to tease you, smirking to himself when he sees your eyes light up with a attention.

𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐭, not expecting your reciprocation. The taste of liquor is sharp on his tongue, mixing with the flavor of your mouth — something he's been dying to taste.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 usually the center of attention, but now he's pulling you to the side, tongue exploring your mouth, lips plastered all over you like he's never felt someone better than you. It's just a party, and you're just horny, and he's just there; that's what you're telling yourself as you try to justify why your hands are on his chest.

𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, leading you to the backseat of his car. "I hate you." you murmur against his lips, "Shut up and spread your legs." is all that he responds with before his hand finds its way down to your clothed pussy. He squeezes it, smiling about how small it feels in his palm.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 with you when he pleasures you with his fingers in the backseat of his car, his clit massaging feeling too good, his fingertip perfectly positioned. "You're so pretty." he says in adoration — totally forgetting about who he is as he watches you shiver and moan from the circling of his fingertips around your puffy clit. "Is it too much?" he whispers, easing the pressure, "Oh, you like it? You want more? Okay, pretty girl. I'll give you more. You just lay back and enjoy yourself."

𝐎𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, claiming that you imagined it all. You want more and he calls you a 'bitch in heat' with a grin on his face, like he's not the one who stared intently into your eyes while you came all over his fingers that night.

𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 asks Suguru to ask how you're doing, what you're up to — are you're free on the weekend? And Suguru just sighs in compliance, thinking lower and lower of his best friend because god, how pathetically prideful can one man be? "Just text her." he tells him, to which Satoru responds "No way. That would give her the satisfaction of knowing that I'm interested." and here is where Suguru groans, "Oh my God, what dumb games are you two playing with each other? She says she can't tell you she likes you, and you say you can't give her the satisfaction — you're both insane."

Satoru's eyes light up, "She said she likes me?! When was this? Was she joking? Did she look like she was joking? You can tell by the way the left corner of her lip curls. What are you groaning about! This is serious, Suguru! Take me seriously! What else has she said about me? Does she like my hair? Ask her if she likes my hair. And ask her what her favorite ice cream is — is she lactose intolerant? Suguru, don't walk away from me. I need this information and you're my spy. Come on, I'll pay you."

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐢𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝, needing a cigarette each time he watches the two of you "fight like you're gonna fuck". Each time you storm off, leaving behind a Satoru who's smiling like a jackass and a Suguru who's shaking his head at his best friend, it seems like it's the last time you'll let Satoru ridicule you.

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, asking Suguru where Satoru is. "I thought you said you hated him and never wanted to see him again?" he sighs, "Never mind. He was asking for you too. Yeah, he's in the hall."

𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 accuses you of liking his best friend — to which you reassure him that you do not, as if you're his girlfriend. In fact, the argument in the hall goes down like you two are a fighting couple. But of course, while up in your face, Satoru's eyes are on your lips; it's not long before he's crashing onto your lips with a hateful kiss, like he's lost his mind and it's somewhere in your mouth.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 kisses are so hard that the force of them pins you to the wall — and god, he loves your whimpers. Every noise that he elicits out of you causes his lips to spread into a naughty smile; he keeps kissing you through this smile, lips wet and sore.

. . . 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 thrusts are so hard that the force of them makes your thighs and ass jiggle. He feels your hole contract tightly around his cock — and god, he moans like a bitch in heat.

It's so funny, because he accuses you that you moan like a bitch in heat. "Aw, you're so in love with your bully's big cock, aren't you?" he taunts.

The only correct response is a cheeky one; "Says you; you fuck me like you haven't gotten pussy in years." he hears this, then draws out his cock and slams it back in with a force that makes your eyes roll back. He pounds into you harder, hitting spots that all your exes failed to reach, moaning even more pathetically than before.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 babbles when he's close, "You love me, right? Tell me you love me. Please, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard if you say it."

But immediately after, he pretends like he never begged for any of that, and pretends like his cock didn't twitch and throb and spurt cum instantly when he heard you proclaim love for him.

𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠? 𝐎𝐡, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞. He loves telling you how much he hates your guts while he's deep in them. He loves making a sloppy mess of you as he claims that he hates you and everything you stand for, feeling how sticky and wet you get at his growling voice. He loves how your greedy hole slicks not just his cock but also his abs, which he tauntingly accuses you of perving on.

𝐎𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞, he holds your hips down hard against his stomach and flexes his muscles against your pussy. "Look at that face, you love this don't you?" he grunts, feeling you slide back and forth over him, "I shoulda cum over myself first and let you ride me like that, huh? You'd love feeling my cum all over your pussy, wouldn't you?"

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 loves cornering you after classes, pressing and grinding his growing erection into your tinier body. "Feel how hard I am — yeah, feel how much I fucking hate you, little slut." he coos against your lips, all up in your face, guiding your hand to his cock.

Of course, you can't even bother resisting the urge to squeeze it, can't even bother hiding how much you want him to ruin you with it. It just makes him grin, seeing you slowly fall apart and heat up after a few minutes of touching.

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫, and he's told you "Don't test me, I'm not afraid to make you an ex. What do you mean we're not dating? Then why do you moan my name on my dick like I'm your man?" and he's crawled back to you, apologizing.

"I didn't mean it, I was just being an asshole for no reason. Come on, will you come tonight? Everyone's going to be there." he pleads you, eyes persuading you as they always do.

Because of course, he can't attend dumb frat parties without you anymore. To quote what he told Suguru, poutingly over the phone, after begging his best friend to help convince you to come; "What's the point of going if she isn't there? The whole purpose of my outfit this year is to scare the shit out of her... and then fuck the shit out of her. Don't you cringe at me, Suguru, it was your idea! No, you weren't joking! Don't play it off now! You literally told me that she has a kink for that — wait a minute, how'd you find out about that... DON'T YOU HANG UP ON ME!"

𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧, rubbing his dick into you from behind, claiming that he's gonna "Make you scream just like that" again and again tonight, right here in this bathroom. He makes sure to pronounce his muscles, to flex them, to really remind you how much stronger and taller and bigger he is.

𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝? 𝐍𝐨, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝… "It's you who's obsessed with me; just feel how wet you are." he groans, fingers stuffed knuckle-deep inside your pussy. He stares into your eyes intensely as you orgasm on his fingers, intently watching how your lips form his favorite 'o' shape.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 loves your weak holes, loves your expressions, loves how you crawl back to him for more even though he treats you so bad sometimes.

His nastiness turns you on but at some point, you think enough is enough; you turn the tables on him.

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝, because the girl he's obsessed with isn't obsessed with him anymore. He nags you to go on a date with him, he softens his eyes, holds you more gently — "Stop ignoring me." he whines like a child.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬 to beg you to go out with him, to kiss him just one more time, to come back to his bed, to sit on his face, "I can prove to you that heaven's on my tongue. What? No, no. I didn't mean all of that. I know I was a jerk to you back then, but please, just give me another chance."

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, following after your shadow. But now he's the one at your mercy; you lead him by the hand upstairs to empty rooms during those dumb frat parties, and you ride him until he whimpers like a bitch in heat. "Close already? It's only been fifteen minutes, Satoru. What happened to your stamina?" you taunt him, "Keep it together."

Now riding Satoru pulls the most pathetic sounds out of his pretty lips. His sensitive cock twitches and jumps at just the sight of you, of course it's throbbing and bursting with cum within ten minutes. Sometimes less. And what does he babble as he's about to cum? "Please don't stop." in the most pathetic tone of voice.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬, grovels at your feet, mumbles in agreement to the things you want to do. He's just caved in, totally given up on acting tough and mean, given up on pretending that he hates everything you like — he wonders to himself, why did he waste so much time being an asshole? He could have just sat there, like he is now, listening to you yap with hearts in his eyes.

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, "𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲"!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 totally smitten, desperate for your attention. Suguru's always commenting on how you've changed him for the better, while Satoru denies having changed at all.

But let his actions speak for his change. He's always cancelling those dumb frat parties to make plans with you. You want to see this new fancy restaurant? Hold on, he's got to buy you a glittery dress for the occasion. What if we went to the seaside? That's not overly romantic, is it? Ring shopping? Relax, he's just a college student, he's not going to propose to you. Buying a diamond ring is just a personal investment for his future.

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

[sexlapis]

✧. ┊  5 TIMES YOU SAT ON NANAMI’S LAP

── .✦ nanami kento x gn!reader

s4w, fluff, cuddling, teasing, petnames, hand feeding, ooc nanami, sitting on nanami’s lap

⤷ nanami’s lap is your favourite seat. luckily for you, he is fine with being your…chair.

based off this post

a/n: #needthat #wantthat #sexyman #hotguy

[_____] = your name

masterlists

*

1 - NAP TIME

The rain droplets pelleting on the living room windows is what wakes you up, along with the deep chuckle of thunder that follows shortly afterwards.

One second it was all sunny with bright skies and now, it is dim and dark, and the only light in the room emanates from the television.

You do not remember putting this show on. You don’t remember falling asleep on the couch, either.

“Oh, look who’s awake.”

You sit up and there Nanami is, sitting opposite you on the couch, in his comfortable loungewear.

“Hey, I was watching that…” You mumble tiredly. A yawn escapes you. You rub your eyes.

“You were asleep when I came back, you know.”

“Yeah but…” you trail off. “When did you even come back?”

“An hour ago. I was excited to get my ‘welcome home’ kiss but instead, here you were; fast asleep and snoring like a bear.”

“I do not snore like a bear!”

Nanami grins and rests his back on the couch. “Don’t I get my kiss now?”

“…You called me a bear.”

“No, I said you sounded-“”

“Yeah, whatever, that’s the same thing.”

“Well, not r-“”

He’s interrupted by your unexpected crawl across the couch and sitting in his lap, covering the both of you with a blanket.

You rest your head on his shoulder.

“Do i still get my kiss-“”

“Oh shut up.”

2 - OFFICE HOURS

A knock on his door shocks Nanami out of his focus. “Come in.”

His office door opens and you appear, wearing your baggy pyjamas and dragging a blanket across the floor.

“_____…I’ve told you that you don’t need to knock. You’re the only other person who lives here.”

“Yeah, but it seems rude to just barge in so…” you waddle towards his desk where he sits, papers scattered all over his desk, “What are you doing?”

“Just some paperwork. Nothing interesting.”

“Yes, I know that part.” You respond to his last two words. “There’s a calculator…”

He lets out an amused huff. “What brings you here then?”

You shrug. “‘M bored…wanted to see what you were doing.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t think my paperwork will entertain you very much, baby.”

“Well…” You start. “I’m not exactly here for the paperwork…”

You’re now stood right beside Nanami and you peek at his empty lap.

Nanami notices. Nanami sighs.

He tucks out of his desk, just enough for his lap to be shown, and he only has to pat his thighs twice before your hopping right into it.

“Comfortable?” You shuffle in his lap, looking for the right position. It’s found, and you lean back to rest your back against his wide chest, blanket covering you legs.

“Yeah, I’m comfy.”

Nanami kisses your temple, and goes back to completing his work, which lulls you to sleep due to how absolutely boring it is.

3 - OVERTIME

Nanami heard keys fiddling with the door while he is on his laptop in the kitchen. He hears a loud, annoyed groan.

Must have been a long day for you.

Shoes are thrown onto the floor, along with your bag and your coat is flung onto the rack.

You trod to the doorway of the living room and Nanami’s sees how tired and disheveled you look.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You only respond with a grumble.

“Hard day?”

Another grumble from you.

“Do you want to tell me all about it?”

A jumpy grumble clambers out of your mouth as you dash over to him and plop down on his inviting lap.

“Ugh, Kenny…these people…”

He rubs circles on you back, gently coaxing the complaints out of you.

“They’re so…they’re just so stupid.”

Nanami can’t help but chuckle at your bluntness and your genuine sadness at your coworkers’s stupidity.

“Seriously, they are! And don’t even get me started on that damn boss.”

So Nanami listens to you rant about your dumb coworkers while he just relishes in having you sit in his lap.

4 - GATHERINGS

On the rare occasion that you and Nanami organise a friend and family gathering, this time in the form of a barbecue, it is a success.

More people than you were both expecting showed up and your backyard was filled with music, friends, family members, chatter, kids running around and the smell of mouth-watering, flavourful meat.

The gathering lasts from noon until late evening, at which most people have left and the only ones who still lingered were close friends.

“Kento.” You walked up to where he sat on the outdoor couch, speaking to one of his work colleagues whose name you have forgotten. Something beginning with a ‘H’, you think?

“Hey, sweetheart.” He pauses his conversation to talk to you. “Are you tired?”

You were tired. You had been preparing the food, offering the food, playing with the kids, speaking to guests and now you feel the weight of all your hard work.

“I did not expect that many people to show up…”

“No, me neither. You did a great job, baby.” He huffs with a shake of his head. He then spreads his legs, more than they already are. “Do you want to rest?”

You are in in lap before he even finishes his sentence. Seriously, he does not finish his sentence.

He smiles at your urgency, admiring how cute you look curled up in his lap, your cheek squished up against his chest.

He takes a knitted blanket and throws it over your body, protecting you from the slight chill in the night air.

Nanami continues to speak to his friend, quieter now that you’re here, and caresses the back of your neck.

5 - BREAKFAST

“Kento, I’m- what’s all this?”

After spending a short time searching for Nanami, you find him outside in your colourful, shared garden. He sits on the garden chair, and on the medium-sized round table is a well prepared, delectable breakfast.

“Hm? Oh. This is breakfast.”

“Breakfast? But Kenny, I-“” You look down at your phone, checking the time, “I have to get to work-“”

“Call in late.”

You frown. “But-“”

“It’s such a nice morning, isn’t it?” He looks to the sky, taking a sip of his tea before looking at you. “Spend it with me.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

It was warm outside with beams of sunlight peaking through the gaps of the blooming blossom tree Nanami is stationed under. A gentle breeze curled through the air, the harmonic birdsong twinkled in your ears and the aroma of sweet-scented pastries wafted under your nose.

It did not take much to convince you.

“Okay. I’ll stay, but remind me to leave in thirty minutes.”

Nanami exhales and smiles, all soft and tender. “I’m glad. Come here, take a seat.”

Your stomach rumbles as you walk to sit in the garden chair opposite Nanami. He stops you.

“Where are you going?”

“Uhm…to sit down?”

“Oh, no, no…come sit on Kento’s lap, sweetheart. I want you to try this danish pastry,” he breaks off a piece so you can have some, “it’s my mother’s recipe.”

Ignoring your heart skipping a beat at how he referred to himself, you sit on his thigh, and he wraps an arm around your hip. He holds the piece of pastry to your mouth.

“Try a piece.”

You open your mouth and allow him to place it on you tongue, you lips briefly touching his fingertips. You laugh a little, flustered as you chew on the sweet treat. He licks his fingertip, the same one your lips touched.

“Do you like it?”

“Hmm! It’s very sweet!” You are glad you said yes to this. Work could handle you being a little late.

“Good.” Nanami shuffles forward in his chair, bringing you closer to the table of food. He kisses your shoulder and runs his hands up and down your waist. “Come on, eat up. You have a long day ahead of you.”

Nanami did not remind you to leave in those thirty minutes.

*

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

[lymtw]

Satoru who is just so obsessed with you and actually becomes somewhat jealous when others make you laugh to the point where you're blushing. He's quick to misunderstand a situation when it comes to men getting overly comfortable with you. From what you understand, the jealousy doesn't run deep, but he does wonder sometimes—stupidly, if someone else will catch your eye and test your fidelity to him.

"How is it being with Gojo all the time? I get seeing him at work, but going home with him and spending all your time together...? It's got to be exhausting, no?"

This nobody doesn't even know Satoru. He's never gotten near him—never even spoken a word to him. It's infuriating that he even assumed you're exhausted from spending time with the person you the love the most, but you smile anyway, and respond as politely as you can.

"Satoru can be a handful at times, but that's one of the many things I love about him. He's funny, and even though sometimes he acts like he runs around without a brain, he is one of the smartest men I know. He takes care of me." You chuckle, recalling a warm, fond memory.

Satoru watches your conversation with the man from the bar on the other side of the room. He sees you smiling and nodding, and his heart starts beating faster. He understands that he has to keep his cool. What is he missing that you can find in someone else? You're with him for a reason, and you've never been one to hide things from him. There's no need to feel insecure.

He knows he can't stop you from talking with other people. You can interact with whoever you want because his jealousy isn't to be mistaken with control, but it's hard not to stay by your side all the time. You've never given him any reason to doubt the strength of your relationship, but he just doesn't trust other men around you. He knows men are dogs, chopping it up with any pretty girl with no regards to whether they're in a relationship or not. What he does know is that he wholeheartedly trusts you. You would let him know if someone was taking it too far, wouldn't you?

VS

Satoru who is so obsessed with you and content with the fact that you are almost always within arms reach of him. He feels so secure knowing he gets to leave work with you every day only to spend more time with you at home.

At night, you lay facing each other, one of your legs thrown over his hip and one of his hands running up and down your waist. You talk about insignificant things that result in significant memories. You whisper and giggle about the dumbest things, until your sentences don't make sense because of how tired both of you are. You cling onto him and tell him you love him, lazy kisses pressed to his lips with every cliffhanging word that is threatened by sleep.

On lazy Sunday afternoons, you lie in bed together watching scary movies. He knows the plots aren't real, and that the monsters and hideous things that appear aren't real either, but your fear of them is. He purposely chooses these movies because he knows you won't focus on them and turn to give him all the attention when you're too scared. Anything to distract you from the terrifying things that are seemingly about to pop out of the screen. While he pretends he's focusing on the movie, he grins as you begin to shower him with your affectionate kisses. One for his neck, one for his cheek, oh... there goes another one for his neck. He lays there, a few chuckles slipping when you kiss his chin and his nose. You mumble little sweet nothings to him that have him grinning ear to ear. He can physically feel the love you hold for him and it's heavenly.

Satoru loves that you've always been shy about your needs. He loves the way you react when he kisses you anywhere that isn't your face. He knows neck kisses are a weakness for you and he uses that knowledge against you when he wants to see you get flustered.

He'll come up behind you, put his hands on your waist and start kissing your shoulder, slowly trailing the sweetness towards your neck. He knows he's affecting you because after a minute of him mouthing up your sensitive points, you stopped what you were doing and just felt him. His hands peel your shirt off your stomach and glide upward, towards your chest. He can hear your shaky breathing more clearly.

"'toru?" You call, meekly, your hands clenched into fists.

"Hm?" He gives your breasts a squeeze, not letting up on his work on your neck.

"Satoru," you repeat, clear surrender in your tone. You use his full first name to grab his attention, yet it still sounded so sweet.

"You can do it, baby. Tell me what you want."

You get so nervous when he starts talking like this. It makes your chest feel tight, and your stomach swarms with butterflies. You want to run away, but his hands are so warm and he's holding you like you're the most fragile thing to ever exist.

You turn around and quickly bury your face in his chest. Satoru caught a glimpse of the rosiness dusting your cheeks, and the tips of your ears were noticeably glowing, the cute reactions earning a chuckle from him. His hands dragged down your back, and he palmed your ass before going slightly lower to clasp around the backs of your thighs. He lifted you, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

"My pretty girl is so shy. Don't worry, I know what you like," he says, directing both of you to the bedroom.

[hoseoksluna]

BOOKWORMS | knj

pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.4k

summary: namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.

warnings: boyfriend namjoon!!!, kimi namijoon reading, mentions of sex (riding), oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, the importance of consent, teasing, raw sex, breeding kink <3, big dick namu!!, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, joonie's chain dangling in ur face, tummy bulge, creampie, bruising, hickeys, aftercare:(

note: it took blood, sweat and tears (hehe) to write this and i'm so happy it's finally here!! i loved writing about namjoon. he's my whole soul and the entirety of my heart and i have to write abt him again soon. please take your time reading this and enjoy urself! let me know what you think in the comments mwah (or tell me anonymously in my inbox) and as i always say please like and if u want to - reblog, but i won't pressure u baby. love love you!!

side note: if you want to jump straight to the smut, it's right under the asterisks &lt;;3

You revel, you truly do, in seeing your boyfriend in such a serene state of mind. 

Nose buried in a book, Namjoon pays no mind to the surroundings fleeting by him with each flutter of his eyelashes. It goes unnoticed by him, strangely so, how you tidy up the apartment you share. How you feed the two cats that chose you and him to be their human parents. How you fondle their soft ears. How you bend over the furniture to whisper ‘pspsps’ at them when they need a moment away from you just to see their round eyes look up at you stupidly. Namjoon usually observes these moments; this utmost natural behavior of yours. He draws strength from the homeliness of it all with each and every swell of his lungs. Needs it to survive. That is until he gets a hold of that one papery portal and sits comfortably on the couch, one ankle propped over the knee. Then, he ceases to exist in this world. 

You’re happy for him. Over time, you’ve come to find that you have a certain fondness for the way he remains stoic. Because you always know what kind of book he’s reading, a smile blossoms on its own over the line of your lips whenever your eye catches the sculpture-like look on his face. It’s like even if he let himself hold his breath, his consciousness would waver back to the earth and the wretched awareness that he’s here, among mortals and the unfair capitalist system aftermath, would stream in his bloodstream, poisoning his experience. It takes the leisure out of it and makes the bed for misery instead. He doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s a necessity that he focuses, as he embarks on the journey, because he does it for you.

Namjoon confides in his feelings and his literature with you almost on a daily basis. On the same couch, with the same cats snoring faintly, their small bodies spilling over the perimeter of your tangled legs. Doesn’t matter if it’s his thigh or the curve of your hip. The animals always find a warm crook to doze in, eavesdropping in, with their curious little ears, on the conversations you’re having. Though you reckon they like the meat of his thigh the best. You do, too. Can’t really blame them. The same serenity that intimately knows the person of Namjoon perceives the person of you when he prompts you to rest your head on his lap while he brushes his book-kissed fingers through the silky waterfall of your hair. Thoroughly explains the intricacies of the plot he’s invested in to you. Describes the characters as if they’re real people he’s become acquainted with. They are real to you as you listen. As you ask additional questions and gaze up at his eyes just to catch that one body of a shooting star fiery hot in the glossiness of his eyes. As you wonder, openly, what will happen to them.

“I’ll tell you when they tell me.” He sunk the promise onto the smooth skin of your forehead with the pucker of his lips.

It’s how you discovered, in all seriousness, that the plaster of his stoicism breaks during these literary moments.

Various colors of emotion tug and twist his features, the bare kind. The unrestrained kind. You know it’s a relief for him when the dam bursts open, soaking you in the beauty of humanness one only finds in literature these days. You can’t help but fall in love with him all over again when his eyebrows furrow. When his orbs nearly burn a hole in the ceiling when he’s trying to think of the right word that will ultimately help him convey the unfolding of the storyline. When he gives up and weaves English into his sentences, relying on his hands to say what his overstimulated brain fails to do. 

He reads to pass knowledge to you. The serenity whispered it into the chambers of your heart, a puff of hot breath in winter’s cold. It soothingly rubbed his shoulders when Namjoon told you there used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of his books lining up the walls of his apartment. Wanted to burn it down and watch as the evidence of his melancholy dies in front of him. Because that’s what most of his book collection consisted of back then. The innermost shadowy faces of his pain. Loneliness. Sadness. Despair from life, from it not being enough for him, from it not saving a spot there for him–not once throughout the course of his life. That’s why he reads different kinds of books now. Ones that do not reflect his survival before you.

The reader has to get wiser, ruffled by life in order to gain more, gain what they need from those once deeply loved pages. It’s what the serenity believes. It’s what you believe and hope for Namjoon. That one day, somehow by the healing of the love you give him, he will look back and pick a souvenir from that moonless country of pain. Put it up somewhere between the spines of his new cluttered collection. Look at it from time to time and sense that it’s telling him something. Something that will fill the stitched-up cracks in his heart with sunlight. Something that he will pass over to you. It’s your love language after all. Namjoon reads because you read. It’s his own personal healing thing. 

You two are just a pair of two bookworms. Unfit for the world outside. Fit for the land you two created. Whose soil you take care of together.

***

Dinner is almost ready by the time you feel his fingertips gripping your hips. You hum, acknowledging his presence. Glad for the homely heat that radiates off of his body and seeps into your bones as you stir the risotto you decided to make on the stove. Coldness had been embracing you all day while he read so you’re overjoyed that he ripped it away from you.

Namjoon places a kiss on your temple and you sigh in relief. You might be too dependent on him, but so is he. He wouldn’t be nuzzling his face in your hair, squeezing your waist, peppering kisses on your tender skin if he wasn’t. It’s the perfect balance. And it’s not that you’re not able to be away from each other. The principle of looking forward to one another is what makes it so sweet, so endurable for the pair of you. Of the coming back and coming into contact at the end of the day. It’s natural. Simple. Human.

“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear. 

You smirk and turn off the stove, turning around to face him. “Terribly.”

His body is clad in a black T-shirt that fits his broad figure well and a pair of baggy sweats of the same color, having discarded the warm crewneck he was wearing earlier somewhere in the universe of his book. A long silver chain twinkles in the middle of his chest in the yellow light. You caress it with your fingers and leave your palm there, on the hardness of his pecs. 

“I finished the book,” he says and you blink up at him. You’re not surprised at all. “Couldn’t put it down.”

Sleepy wrinkles have left their mark on his face from the cozy position he laid in for too long on the couch. His short sunlit hair, grown healthily from his military service, is tousled in all directions and you smooth it down for him. How did God bless you with such a beautiful man is something you’ll wonder about for the rest of your life. 

“What happened to Theo in the end?” you ask, genuinely curious about whether one of the characters you’ve grown attached to is okay after all the shit the author put him through. 

Namjoon was reading a coming-of-age book about a boy named Theo. A panorama of his childhood and adolescent life, you’ve heard all about it. Namjoon cared a lot about this story, cared a lot about the protagonist’s emotions and reactions to the reappearing storms. What made him stick with it, despite the nearly triggering themes, is the fact that Theo never let go of his optimism no matter what. It was incredibly inspiring for Namjoon. Something new. Something that he never thought could be possible. You’re proud of him for daring to read a book so reminiscent of his past.

“You’re not gonna believe it,” Namjoon says, a blush creeping along his cheeks.

You raise one of your eyebrows in question. 

“Theo got laid,” Namjoon reveals, laughing softly. “I’m so happy for him.”

You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”

“He got some!” 

Your laughter rises in volume. “He lost his virginity and that’s the end?”

“It was a big moment for him. A triumph of some kind. Like he shed his old skin and left that broken life behind. It was amazing.” Namjoon’s eyes glint with tiny shooting stars and you melt. He always finds poetic meanings in the varieties of the character arcs. You think you just fell in love with him all over again. 

“That’s really beautiful,” you admit. It reminds you of something. Of something quite personal. “My first time with you changed my life as well.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows curl in tenderness. Dragon eyes widen and round in fervent emotion. He squeezes his arms around you, enfolding you in a hug. Kisses you warmly. Strokes your hair down your back. Your own eyes pool with little tears with the intimate knowledge that you chose the right person to unfold your raw femininity with. No one, no man other than him could have created such a safe for that to happen.

“Tell you what,” Namjoon says a bit hoarsely. “I saw us in it.”

You hum, encouraging him to continue. Crave for more of his thoughts and confidential findings. Its fire spreading through your body, as each word of his registers in your brain, always makes you feel phenomenally alive. You’re not timid to avow that it’s your addiction. Shame doesn’t know you.

“Elena was on top and he was watching her. In awe of her,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Made me think of our last time. A life changing experience of mine as well.”

You welcome the fire and suspire with sudden desire, eyes lidding. Your heart begins to thump. Namjoon studies your reaction. 

“You remember well, don’t you?” He nudges his nose against yours. “I was in awe of you just the same.” 

It’s impossible not to remember. The memory consumes your mind every waking hour. Gets you needy in ways you haven’t felt before. Namjoon had you sat on his lap among the fluffiness of your innumerable pillows and plushies. Had you do all the work as he focused on the sleekness of your freshly moisturized calves, its coconut aroma interfused with the scent of sex and the euphony of your bounces, ragged breaths and broken moans making his head all fucked up. He was loud himself, more loud than you ever recalled him being. Reading your body at the mercy of the pleasure his hard length was giving you with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Not once did he take his eyes off of you, not once did he help you. Just gripped your calves. Your thighs. Your tits all in his face. Only when you came hard, out of your own delightful merit, did his eyes roll back. You left his hips glazed with the evidence of your well-deserved orgasm, a porcelain statue made glossy.

A little later, during your pillow talk, he told you he’d found the idea of you using him while getting yourself off extremely hot. Made him more hard than he’d been in a while. Begged you to be even more selfish next time, adding an indistinct, ‘well, of course, if you want’ to the end of his sentence because he’s Namjoon.

“I do,” you breathe. “Touched myself to it this morning while you were still asleep.”

Namjoon groans. “God.” He kisses the side of your neck. Gets close to your ear. “You wanna do it again, hm? Wanna fuck me?” 

You might burst. His closeness, his heat, his need to ask for your consent turns you unstable. You’re choked up on your words, mind too fuzzy to say something. Turned on. Fucked up.

“You wanna show me how you touched yourself?” Namjoon continues, but you shake your head against the side of his face. 

You had touched yourself in the shower. Couldn’t say no to the impulse. Sharing that part of you for his eyes to see isn’t something you’re quite ready for. To you, it’s still something that’s yours. Something private. A courage you have yet to pluck up. You’re afraid to give him this last part of your femininity.

“Not today,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Feel him shiver. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”

Withdrawing from your neck, Namjoon looks you dead in the eye, brows twisted in stern seriousness. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that again. Hear me when I say that.”

You squeeze his shoulder, the corners of your mouth lowering in a pout. Thankfulness grips your heart and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. 

“You know this is why we do this right?” he asks you. “Why I ask you these questions? I need to always know what you’re comfortable with so I don’t make a mistake.”

You nod. “Yes, Namjoon, I know and I’m so thankful.”

“Good. I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.” 

“That’s my girl. 

You grab him by the back of his neck and engulf him in a hug. Luckiest girl in the world? That you are. The fact that you’re his is still something you can’t wrap your head around.

“We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything tonight—”

“No, Namjoon.” You withdraw. “Look.” Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you slip his hand beneath the confines of your panties. 

His breath shakes when he reaches your soaked folds. He traces your hole with his middle finger and your hips follow his movement, the pleasure so faint but so good that you flutter your eyes closed.

“Fuck, baby.” 

“Yeah, I need you. Need more,” you breathe out. “Can’t leave me like this, can you?”

Namjoon hums. “No, I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of this pussy.” 

He kisses you. Massages his tongue against yours. You buck your hips into his hand and Namjoon hears your body language. Takes his fingers up and rubs your swollen clit from side to side, quickening his pace as he swallows your moans down his throat. Gets angry at your tight leggings hindering him in giving you more, so he gets on his knees and swiftly pulls them down along with your underwear. 

“Sit on the counter.”

You comply right away. Namjoon takes your feet in his hands and gently removes your slippers, removing your garments fully so they don’t pool around your ankles. He needs your legs spread and he needs them spread wide for what he’s about to do to you. 

Torso long enough to reach you, he remains on his knees. Runs his hands up the back of your thighs to guide you into the position he wants you in. “Lock your arms around the back of your knees. Don’t let go.”

You do as he says, biting your lips in nervousness. Intertwine your hands together. Prepare yourself to die. 

Namjoon studies your dewy pussy, index and middle finger mimicking the letter V as he slides them up and down your folds, squeezing just right to hear you mewling. Your knees being so close together makes her look a lot more pillowy and you hear Namjoon breathe hard, absolutely hypnotized by the beauty of your flesh. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my hand.” He withdraws his fingers to show you how your slick trickles down the lines on his palm, changing the course of his life once and for all. 

Your clit throbs, breath matching his. “Please, Namjoon.”

He curses inaudibly. Brings his fingers back down to your folds, squeezes your lips and your clit together. Hisses at the sweet whimpery sounds spilling out of your mouth. Presses tighter so you whine needily for him. Takes you into his mouth when he accomplished what he wanted, tonguing your clit in slow agonizing circles that has you buckling your hips again. Puts his hands on your thighs to keep you down, flicking fast to absolutely abuse the fuck of you. Dragon eyes zeroing on yours, he gives you the hypnosis that your pussy did to him as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. You can’t even scream. Can’t breathe. The pleasure overwhelms you wholly and straps you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it. 

You come hard on his tongue. Namjoon laps it all up gladly. And when he’s finished, he stands up and slips those two digits that ruined you into your hole. Doesn’t move them. Lets you adjust instead.

“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”

You nod.

“Use your words or we’re stopping.”

You groan and close your eyes, your thighs visibly shaking in your iron grip from your orgasm. “Yes, Namjoon, one more. I’ll come for you.”

Namjoon places a wet kiss on your thigh to praise you, and to thank you as well. Begins to move his fingers promptly, but can’t seem to get enough of your skin. Proceeds to make it shiny with his liquid love, sucking it to bruise you. To remember this moment a little more fondly in the morning. 

Creating a trail up to the back of your knee, his digits pick up the speed. The pool of slick you left in his palm sloshes with each rapid thrust of his hand. He looks back at you and sees you lost in the pleasure, eyes lidded and unfocused. “Look at me.” 

You do, weakly.

“Just a little bit more and I’ll fuck you, all right?”

You’re about to nod, but decide against it. “Mhm, yes, Namjoon, fuck.” 

He smiles down at you. Your relief inches closer. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up today. For letting me know.” 

You could cry right now. Because of his fingers making you feel so good. Because of his kindness making you feel so safe. It all closes in on you and you whimper. 

Abruptly, Namjoon unravels your grip on your knees and kisses you, tongue slipping in. You come all over his hand, without meaning to, and he doesn’t stop. On the contrary, Namjoon fucks you harder. Takes all four of his fingers and strums your clit, prolonging your orgasm, swallowing down all of your moans. 

“Come on.”

Namjoon helps you down. If it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you would’ve collapsed on the floor. Your legs shake, muscles taut and tense. 

“I got you.”

Sat on the floor with his joggers and boxers pulled beneath his crotch, he pulls you down on his lap. A wisp of precum adorns his tip and you wrap your hand around it, collecting it with your thumb. Watch him as you swirl your tongue around the digit before sucking on it, letting go with an obscene pop. Namjoon licks his lips, hands clasping your hips hard enough to bruise you. Twitches in your other hand.

“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.” 

You laugh almost inaudibly, drunk on him. “Are you gonna come in me?” 

He replaces your hand, holding his length at the base for you to sink down. And you do, gasping softly at his thickness. Your dewiness helps it to be a smooth ride.

“Gonna pump you full. Leave you dripping,” he promises, voice restrained. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.” 

One thing about Namjoon, he’s a man of his word. 

Seated perfectly on him, he waits for you to adjust. Alleviates the tremble of your thighs with his palms, massaging the muscles. Takes off your shirt and flings it across the kitchen. Gropes your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You start to grind on him, throwing your head back. He latches onto your nipple and flicks the nub with his tongue. You lose your mind, leaking down his balls. 

“Ready?” he asks against the fullness of your breast. 

“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.” 

He thrusts into you once to watch you fall apart. Locks your arms behind your back. Grabs your forearms for his use.

“You forgot something.”

He thrusts again, harder this time.

“What?” you breathe out, meekly. 

“What word do you use when you want to ask for something?”

He watches you as you work it out in your brain. Fucks into you three more times, equally hard, to disrupt you. 

“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”

He grinds, hips rotating in circles. 

“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.” 

Namjoon envelops your tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola. Sucking. Keeping up the agonizing pace. Groaning when you clench down on him. 

“Please, hmph, fuck me.”

Your breast bounces back when he lets go, biting his lip. “Knew you could do it,” he coos. “Smart fucking girl.” 

He begins to fuck you properly. Thrusting up and down as he holds you steady, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As he takes control of your squirming, leaving his fingerprints on your forearms and waist. You’re breathless, whimpering, on the verge of sobbing. So turned on and needy for him that the emotions brim in you, threatening to spill over. 

“Aren’t you?” Namjoon continues. “Aren’t you a smart girl?” 

You nod, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I’m a smart girl.” 

He spanks your ass to reward you and you arch your back. Tits all in his face. He’s mesmerized watching them bounce and nearly slap against each other, nubs hard and pointed. He licks them up, flicking them with his tongue. You round your shoulders a little in pleasure, his strong grip not letting you fold like your body wants. 

“That’s right. So smart and good for me. So fucking wet. Making me lose my mind.”

Namjoon kisses you. Inhales you. Withdraws only for a mere second before he’s back, tongue in, toying with you the way you like it. You feel your relief calling your name.

“Namjoon, I’m so fucking close. I’m so close. I’m gonna come,” you whine, forehead pressed against his, face twisted in ecstasy.

Namjoon stops out of the blue and slips out of you. You whine loudly, but before you know it, he carries you to the couch and lays you down on it. Takes off all of his clothes until only his silver chain remains, shining bright in the dim light. He spreads your legs, one limb over the backrest, the other around his thigh. Grips his length and tugs at it a few times, the feeling of your wetness making him slippery pulling moan after moan out of him. 

He enters you again and resumes his fast pace, holding your calf in his hand. “Smart girls come on the couch, not on the floor like whores. You got that?” 

You nod almost too eagerly, fucked out beyond measure. “Yes, Joon, please make me come. Please, come here.” 

Namjoon leans towards you, propping his elbows by your head, cradling you. “I’m here. I’m gonna make you come.” 

From this angle, he fucks you more deeply than before, his tip reaching your cervix. You roll your eyes back, but bring them right back to his face when his chain taps you on the chin. You find it so hot that you grind your hips against his, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to fuck you harder. The chain meets you in erratic staccatos and you scratch your nails down his bare back, the sword-like pendant hurting you in a way that you like. 

Namjoon notices. Slows down his movements. Pinches the chain from the back of his neck. Prompts you to lift your head and slides it over, letting it rest in the middle of your breasts. Then fucks you back into the couch.  

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna breed you. Hm. You want that, don’t you?”

The cord tightens in your lower belly. The bulge of where his tip is hitting you nudges him in his stomach and he looks down. Curses. 

“Look.” 

You follow his eyes and moan. “Namjoon, Namjoon, please come in me. I’m so close. Wanna feel you. Please.” 

He grunts, nodding his head. Licks his fingertips and presses them against your clit. Pleasures you in fast and swift jerks until you’re knocking your head back. Only when he grabs your jaw and kisses you does the cord snap, his lips being your ultimate undoing. 

Namjoon presses you down with his body, keeps you calm and collected. Kisses you all through it, your jaw, your neck, your cheeks. Then his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock twitches in you. He gives you one final hard thrusts and fills you up, groaning against your mouth.

You’re smoothing down the sting of your scratches on his back when he pulls out of you and his cum drips out of you. You wish you could see what he sees, hand on his mouth, careful to catch his drool. You push out more for him and he curses, fondling your pussy with his thumb before he pumps it back in. 

He comes back to you and kisses you. Fixes your hair. Caresses your cheek. Helps you stand on your feet as he leads you into the shower. Washes every inch of your body, heedful of the bruises he left on the back of your thigh. Lathers your hair in your favorite shampoo. Wraps you in a towel. Wanted to moisturize your body, but you told him off, knowing both of you would get horny again. You let him brush your hair, though, placing a comb in his hand. He’s gentle as he undoes the knots, then he blowdries your hair. 

And you do the same for him.

Once the pillow touches your cheeks, you’re both out like a light. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist

[inkinflux]

Raising the Mast

Viktor x f!Reader | 1.1k | 18+ You give Viktor a ride home from an event, knowing from experience that he won't be able to keep his hands off you for long. 🚫 I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING USED TO TRAIN AI 🚫  

The carriage back to the Academy was pleasant enough, the cobblestones only causing a minor bump here and there as you traversed through the wealthiest district of Piltover.

“I can’t say I’m familiar with the sensation. The call for adventure,” Councilor Shoola carried your polite conversation. “However my wife is a different story. She goes sailing every weekend. I tried to join her once but got terribly seasick. Never again.”

You gave a soft laugh in response, your posture relaxed and open. The same could not be said for the man sitting next to the Councilor, his body turned to the window, cane cradled between his legs.

“I was lucky to never have gotten seasick during my sailing days. However, I’m not the most graceful sailor. One day when raising the sails a gust of wind caught me off guard and I got knocked overboard by the mast.”

Shoola cackled at that.

Viktor cast a side-glance at you, and you would’ve thought he was judging you if not for the amused smirk he was trying to hide.

“You must meet my wife. Perhaps tea, sometime soon? We’d love to host you.”

You smiled. “That sounds nice.”

The carriage pulled to a stop, and Shoola glanced out the window. The carriage stood outside of a mansion made of luxurious marble pillars framed by golden gates.

“This is me,” she said, standing. “It was lovely catching up with you, (Y/n).” She side-stepped the man beside her as she reached for the door. “Viktor,” she said by way of farewell.

The carriage shook slightly as she stepped out, and the driver closed the door behind her. There was a terse silence until it started rolling again.

Viktor continued watching the streets pass from the window. You slid your foot forward, nudging his.

“Did you have a good night?”

Viktor looked at you with barely concealed fatigue. “Of course not.” Despite his cold response, he lifted his foot, capturing yours underneath. You bit back a smile.

“What, you don’t enjoy hearing rich people talk about their breweries and boats?”

It had been a party celebrating the launch of a new beer brand. Viktor had been Jayce’s plus one, and you were always a permanent fixture on any guest list thanks to your status.

Viktor sat up, emphatically gesturing with his cane. “I would have enjoyed it more if it had ended with the securing of another Hextech investment.”

You leaned forward, “And how would you have swung this one, had you gotten it? ‘Yes, see here, the new HexScythe, made for ploughing the fields at an exceptionally accelerated rate-” You giggled as Viktor reached out, trying to cover your mouth with his hand and cease your accent-heavy impression of him. “-proven to increase wheat yield tenfold for all your beer brewing needs.”

“I do not sound like that,” he muttered.

“You’re right,” you replied breathlessly, seizing his wrist, “I give a much better sales pitch than you.”

Viktor’s eyes darkened with a challenge. He spun his wrist, instead capturing yours, bringing the back of your hand to his lips.

“Perhaps this is true,” he spoke low, placing a gentle kiss, “Or perhaps it is not the words that matter, but the person who speaks them.” Your body gave an involuntary shiver as Viktor looked at you from underneath his eyelashes and turned your hand over. “I’m certain you could have just about anyone eating from the palm of your hand.”

He sunk his teeth into the soft swell of your palm. This dance of modesty became shorter each time.

Viktor flipped his cane, slotting the handle behind your back and tugging you to the edge of your seat, capturing your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. He kissed with a ferocity that hinted he’d been waiting for this all night.

Pushing his knee between your thighs, he moved closer, dropping his cane to place a firm hand behind your neck, urging you towards him with a gentle pull.

You parted for a second to move on top of him, and in the same moment a helpful bump in the road had you landing in his lap, your legs spread atop him.

Viktor wasted no time in chasing your lips again, his mouth hot and just as greedy as his hands.

One of which slid up your back, fingers reaching into your hair before sharply tugging your head back, affording him the perfect expanse of your delicious throat. Viktor bit down on your hammering pulse, like flicking a switch that had your muscles tensing.

His skillful hands played your body like a symphony, directing with rough touches down your waist, thumbs digging into the divots of your hips, encouraging you to move against him.

You obliged, earning a moan stifled against your neck. You ground your hips in a fluid motion, ignoring how his leg brace dug into the back of your thigh.

Viktor ceased his incessant biting to watch you for a moment. You pressed a steadying hand to his chest, feeling the erratic thumping of his heart beneath. His gaze was wicked as he devoured you with his eyes.

It made you shiver.

He grabbed hold of your chin, pulling your face down to his, your noses bumping and laboured breaths mingling.

“Next time, let’s skip the parties, hm?” He suggested before kissing you once more. “It will save us from waiting to reach the part we both enjoy most.”

“And lose the opportunity to flirt with you in front of all my rich peers?” you grinned, eating the sounds your rolling hips elicited. “Are you kidding?”

Viktor huffed a laugh, his eyes unfocused and his cheeks flushed. “That part is pretty satisfying. If only for the soul.”

You nipped at his jaw, nuzzling under his ear. Viktor groaned as the fabric between you grew uncomfortably warm, his short nails digging into your waist, pulling you down against him as he chased more friction.

“You trying to tell me this isn’t good for your soul?” You teased.

Viktor panted, “Quite the contrary. Hmph.” His head fell back, eyes cast down at your exposed thighs as your skirt rode up. He pushed the hem further up, the touch leaving goosebumps on your legs. “I think my mast has pushed you overboard, hm?” he commented, rubbing his thumb along the damp spot between your legs.

You bit your lip as his touch started circling that sweet spot, losing your rhythm as he bent forward, sinking his teeth into your collarbone.

“Please,” you begged, pushing him away from your sufficiently-marked neck, “No nautical-themed innuendos tonight.”

Viktor laughed.

“No promises.”

[silknspice]

RUN IT ˳ᐟ

⎯ ୨୧ pairings: f1 racer! vi x reader , f1 racer! caitlyn x reader

⎯ ୨୧ content: lowercase intended, slight nsfw, fluff, girl who knows nothing about f1, not proofread/spellchecked.

✇ f1 racer vi who’s number six for ferrari. she caught your eye after a race, sweaty pink hair and fiery red suit perfectly wrapped around her muscular body. she first spotted you after a race with a few of your friends. as you locked eyes and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips, she knew you’d be hers. 

✇ f1 racer vi who kisses you before every race. suited up, pulling in your frame by the hips and kissing you as passionate as she always does. needy, soft, emotional. she’s never the first to pull away, and she makes sure to follow your lips as you let go. as routine goes, she’ll gently caress the left side of your face, a contrast to her rough overworked palms. she’ll look you in the eyes and whisper sweet nothings about how you’re her “good luck charm” and how much she cherishes you so. she’ll never tell you that these final moments are out of worry. she’s not as reckless as when you first met, but she’s also aware that anything could happen during a race. she has to make sure she holds you one last time, just in case. 

✇ f1 racer vi who’s one of the most popular racers amongst fans. some are people who enjoy the sport, others are thirsty teens and young adults who “recognize true beauty” as vi puts it while pointing to her stunning face and sculpted body. you couldn’t disagree. 

✇ f1 racer vi who loves showing you off to her 20 million current insta followers. in fact, half of her instagram is pictures she took of you posing up with her ferrari daytona sp3. originally, it stemmed from a joke. it was a hot summer day and the two of you were on your way out to eat with vi’s brothers, sister (who adores you), and her brother-in-law.

“damn it’s hot as hell out here. my baby must be burning.” 

you laughed at vi’s odd way of wording the sentence. you were wearing less than her. she was clad in a white compression shirt and baggy cargos– you couldn’t finish skimming her over before laughing at the hypocritical words. 

“what are you talkin’ about? i’m fine,” you hummed with a smile, placing your hands at her neck as you leaned in for a quick peck on the lips. 

the pinkette smirked down at you, her lips growing to a full smile as her eyes trailed to the red shining vehicle beside you. “waaasn’t talking about you, sweet thing.” she dragged out her words, tongue poking the inside of her cheek as she held back a laugh. 

you scoffed.

“you’re callin’ your car baby now? thought that was reserved for me.” you huffed, making your way over to the front of the car. 

“i have other things reserved for you,” she started, but you flashed her a look that put her back in her place. “don’t tell me you’re jealous of a car, honey.” the amusement on her face was as clear as day. 

“am not.” you claimed, leaning back against the car on your hands, tilting your head at the girl. “i just meant–”

the racer’s agape lips and lack of thought behind her eyes before scrambling for the red cased phone in her pocket made you furrow your brows. “what?-” “stay still baby.” she spoke, and suddenly you were a statue. she lifted her camera before snapping a picture and cheesing down at it like a teenager. 

“perfection.” 

✇ f1 racer vi who now has quick little photoshoots of you with her car at random before leaving the house. sometimes, she’ll give you little props like a cherry lollipop or one of her red hats (she likes to stay on theme). if she thought up or found a new pose to try, she’ll personally angle your hips, hands, legs, and face (even though she could just show you the photo to easily replicate). there’s a 100% chance vi will get extremely handsy, and there’s a 0% chance of failure when it comes to getting the two of you worked up. 

✇ f1 racer vi who is even more appreciative of her car once you decide to give her a soapy bikini car wash. she sits there with awe struck eyes, fingers antsily fidgeting with the thigh area of her pants. watching you press every curve of your body against the glass that deliciously squishes your skin. 

✇ f1 racer vi who will never forget that day and tries to slyly ask you for (many more) car washes. 

✇ f1 racer vi who loves when you leave things around her car. a hair accessory around the gear shift, lip glosses that you forgot to grab or dropped on the floor without noticing, your underwear in her glove box after a late night (that ones her favorite by far). she loves that there’s part of you everywhere. she loves you.

✇ f1 racer vi who loves bringing you up in interviews during media day. any chance she gets, the racer mentions her “angel” with the most genuine smile on her face. 

✇ f1 racer vi who refuses to let you drive her cars. of course, you’re not dependent on her. she bought you the car of your dreams a week after you two made it official. but when it comes to vi’s cars she is the only one who touches her babies (you still can’t get over that.) 

✇ f1 racer vi who compromises with you. she allows you to drive her car as long as you’re sitting on her lap. illegal? absolutely. dangerous? most definitely. she’ll only allow it on a quick trip to the store, down to ekko’s house, etc. she can’t get over the way it feels to have your body pressed inbetween her thighs, feet controlling the pedals, but violet’s right there incase of an emergency. one arm wraps around your torso while the other gently grazes the bottom of the steering wheel, whereas you grip it with both hands full force.

“wow, look at you go.” she’ll tease you as you turn the car, kissing the spot behind your ear. 

you gently shake your head with disbelief, a joking scoff falling from your lips. “i can drive, violet.” the girl inhaled sharply at her government name before smiling.

“i know,” she cooed, voice dropping a level as she placed another kiss at the base of your throat. “i just like praising you.” 

you hummed, body sinking into the feeling of her arms and lips embracing you. as great as it felt.. 

“alright— okay! vi!” you laughed, attempting the squirm the girl off of you. “stop it before we crash.” 

✇ f1 racer vi who runs to find you as soon as she can after every race without fail. she practically pounces on you, wrapping her strong arms around your waist, picking you up, and spinning you around with a rich laugh while you squeal. she’ll set you down and hold your face in her hands, looking at you with the most loving eyes. she’ll smash your lips together while holding the back of your head and letting her fingers intertwine with your strands. she’s never been afraid of a little pda. 

✇ f1 racer vi who loves seeing the photos of you two (taken by fans or journalists) post-race. she never fails to like, repost on her story, and send them to you. it’s clear to her fans how much she cherishes her girl. 

✇ f1 racer caitlyn who’s number twenty-two for mercedes. you had been by her side since she was in her teens. when she finally started taking karting more seriously. when her mother expressed extreme disappointment with her career choice making caitlyn question her decisions everyday. you were by her side through thick and thin. now, she’s proved everyone who ever doubted her wrong (and made up with her parents, of course). 

✇ f1 racer caitlyn who has a small picture of you in her car for “good luck”. it’s from one of your first dates, a polaroid of you laughing while a small glob of ice cream decorated your cheek. you thought you looked heinous, but it always has been and always will be her favorite photo. she thinks you’re perfect. 

✇ f1 racer caitlyn who keeps other fun photos of you in her glove box. you sprawled out in her backseat in nothing but your undergarments, on your knees for her in front of the driver's seat, even a selfie you took where your arms pressed the flesh of your bare chest together while you eyed the camera with a cheeky grin. needless to say, she sweats whenever anyone but you is in the passenger seat of her car. 

“we haven’t used the polaroid in a while..” caitlyn hummed, looking over to the black camera on one of her ridiculously large bookshelves. you slightly shifted in your position, the blanket protecting your bare bodies as you rested your head right above her chest, body almost laying atop hers. 

“no.. we haven’t...” you simply agreed.she took the arm that wasn’t wrapped around your waist and put it behind her head, looking relaxed as her gaze trailed to yours with a soft smirk. 

“you wanna give me some more car decor, love?” 

you smiled against your will, lifting your head to look at the girl. 

“greed is a sin, kiramman. besides, are you sure you want more? your father was dangerously close to opening that compartment, and id hate to give him more of a heart attack than he already would’ve.” the girl cringed at the memory, lifting a hand up to cover her eyes with a laugh. 

once the laughter died down, your eyes locked to one another, as they always do. her persuasive eyes were your kryptonite. why the hell would anyone ever say no to that. 

you bit your lip, letting the blanket slide off of your body as you sat up. 

“well? what are you waiting for?”

✇ f1 racer caitlyn who takes you everywhere. think of her as your personal chauffeur. it’s not that she wants to be controlling, but what on earth do you need to drive for when she’s right there? 

✇ f1 racer caitlyn who (happily) allows you to do her hair before every race. due to regulations, the bluenette has to have her hair pulled back when racing. as much as you love seeing her in that infamous ponytail, it's much more fun seeing your cool, tough, racer girlfriend with her hair in a cute braided low bun.

✇ f1 racer caitlyn who’s aware of the attention she gets from other girls at races, but ignores it all, because no one compares to you. despite her constant mentions of having a girlfriend on social media, reposting all of your content, and only following you (and her sponsors) on instagram, some people just won’t give up. she tries to be polite at first, assuming a fan is coming up for a quick picture and some praise. but after a bat of their eye lashes and a hand that grazes caitlyn’s arm, she’s a stone cold menace. she’ll roll her eyes, sending annoyed glares and pushing past the crowd as professionally as she can to get to you. it’s not until she has her girl in her arms, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, that she can smile. 

©silknspice

caitlyn's bit was so short cause i used all my good ideas on vi </33, love her tho. hope it's still enjoyable!

INSPIRED BY: kindamaxedout art on twitter !!

[goldengirliez]

STEALING MIKEY'S KEYS SO HE'S LATE FOR A MEETING>>>>>

09:32 pm

I believe that intimacy is the new kind of pure love. Getting to know someone on a deeper level is something that goes beyond simple attachment, it goes beyond the simple but necessary need of validation.

Being intimate means getting on the same frequency level as a person and communicating effectively with each word, each action, and each stare.

Intimacy isn't something you only find under the sheets until sweat, tears and arousal dampen the mattress. Its true nature lies in between the actions of your everyday life, moments that don't need any kind of particular reason to happen and yet feel special because you are there, you are connected.

You have realised such a thing only briefly as the air is getting in and out of your lungs hectically, your breath coming short and irregular and the adrenaline rushing through your veins full speed with each pump of your vital muscle.

Your legs almost shake and your feet ache slightly, your eyes darting to the person in front of you with an excited and rebellious glimmer, the glint of life.

You've been running away from Mikey for the last ten minutes because you had taken the keys to his motorbike.

He has been spending every evening with Toman recently, not passing by your home to even say goodnight because the meetings always finish late at night.

You know that he always tries his best to make it up to you for the lost time with his ways of bringing your favourite sweets to school, taking you home and around the city with his bike whenever you need to, sending you a sweet message randomly throughout the day to check up on you, never missing the opportunity to hug you, kiss you or keeping you close when you pass by, and yet… You can't help but miss him more than anything.

You tried to talk to him about it but he prefers for you to not get too involved in his gang business: he fears your safety, not wanting hundreds of testosterone-filled guys to get close to his beloved.

You fear nothing when he's by your side but he still turns you down when you ask to come along with him: he has lost too many people he cared about for his good and he has no intention of putting you in danger even the slightest.

This had to change.

That's why you're preventing him from heading to the meeting of Toman until he makes up his mind.

“Y/N! I'm gonna be late, please, give me those darn keys back, goddamnit!!”

His voice spurts out desperately, short puffs of air coming out of his mouth as he tries to catch his breath: you're fast for fuck’s sake!

He is a bit pissed at you for acting this stubborn, sure, but he can't help the wide smile that plasters on his face the more he hears you laugh every time he can't catch you, every time you hide behind his motorbike and fool him by running in the opposite direction, almost tripping on your own feet.

That smile of yours, that light in your eyes is worth every spare minute of his life and the meeting can wait if that means he has the chance to see you this full of energetic playfulness.

You're both in the flowers of your youth and sometimes you forget that due to how harsh life experiences can be. Moments like these make up for the lost time.

As you raise your hand high and shake his keys, making them jingle as you do so, you can't help but feel overpowered by pride: having your super athletic boyfriend, the invincible Mikey whining out to you so he can get what he wants isn't an everyday occurrence (I mean– unless he's begging for sweets or your attention, of course). Maybe you could break him and he would finally let you come along in one of his meetings.

“Begging ain't gonna do shit, you gotta work for it, Mikey!”

Sprinting to the other side of the garden of his house, you can feel him sigh exasperatedly and follow you along as he mutters “If I catch you–" in between a breathy laugh.

The wind feels magical against your skin, the cool breeze of the night after a heated summer day gives you goosebumps and yet you feel hot all over; your blood pressure rising with each stride of your run is what keeps you going, laughing nonstop as you stare up the full moon over your head briefly, savouring such a moment that will surely become a core memory of yours.

As you hide behind his motorbike once again, Mikey stops a few feet away from you, the vehicle is the only thing separating your bodies.

“You’re a menace, y/n!”

You shrug at his words, rotating his keys on the tip of your index finger with a proud expression.

“I guess that dating a delinquent made the trick– eek!”

You can't even finish your sentence as Mikey takes a run-up and easily jumps over his CB250T and lands not so graciously on top of you, making you fall on the grass with a thud. The impact doesn't hurt that much though, not when Mikey put a hand behind your head right on time so you couldn't injure the slightest.

He couldn't resist the urge to bring you down and wipe off your face that shit-eating grin and see that cute pout your peachy lips make every time he catches you by surprise. He's a weak man, bear with him.

Pinning you down on the floor he takes away his keys from your hand and smiles toothly: his rosy cheeks and messy hair shine under the moonlight, his obsidian gems staring into your soul easily make you melt and your initial annoyance turns into an amused laugh. He's your angel, no matter what.

“Sorry, what were you saying about dating a delinquent?”

Rolling your eyes at his statement, your smile slowly fades when he gets off you and brushes some grass away from your shirt with his hand, before kissing the top of your head with the soft petals of his lips.

He was going to leave again and that thought screeches inside your brain. It doesn't sit well with you the fact that he's keeping you detached from a big aspect of his life… There's a strong gut feeling that tells you you shouldn't let it slide, you should insist on being part of this area of his life because, if you don't, something extremely bad will happen in the future.

And Mikey sees right through you, he always does, because he loves you and he is connected to your being in every way for respect and admiration.

He feels the intimate bond you two share, he can almost touch that connection, he can feel the burn of the red string that connects the two of you.

He can feel his bones ache under the weight of letting you drown away from him so sad and helpless and whenever he sees your angelic face darken out of worry and fear for him, for the both of you.

He knew why you took the keys away from him that day and he couldn't help finding it amusing and cute... but believe me when I say he's not blind and recognises the desperate attempt to have yourself near him for longer.

Mikey stands up from the ground and offers you his hand to stand up, his calloused hand brushes against your tender palm and holds in a strong and warm hold that doesn't flatter even when you're finally standing.

Staring down at your feet, your voice comes out in a whisper, a loving but pained one.

“Please, be careful Mik–”

“Hop on.”

Your head snaps up, your eyes searching for his out of confusion and then hope.

The two of you are intimate, you understand each other's worries and can feel them within your organs, you can feel each emotion run through your being and resonate like a magnetic wave from you to him and vice versa.

You two are flames that burn for love, with love: your glint should never flatter, you deserve to feel it alive and vibrating.

Mikey smiles at you as he puts his helmet on top of your head and secures it attentively.

“I'll keep you safe, pinkey promise”.

That's your man to you.

I have had this idea bouncing inside my head for a while now! I've been inspired by this post of the sweet @xsleepinggoodx.

I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it.

English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes!

Sending y'all hugs. ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

©GOLDENGIRLIEZ do not repost or modify on any platform.

[homoroni]

°My Fav Comfort Fics°

Theodore Nott

The Softening Edge - your love language is touch and Theo usually loves it until someone makes fun of Theo for it. He ends up pushing you away until he realised how much of an idiot he’s been.

Written In The Stars

Pet dates - When Theo took a cat into his dormitory one evening, he didn't expect to wake up next to a girl the next morning.

Whoopsie - You can't help your clumsiness, but when you land with a bruise on your face, you're reminded that your boyfriend, Theo really hates to see you hurt.

Gamers Embrace - You learn just how clingy your gamer boyfriend Theo can be when he refuses to let her move her legs, all in the name of needing her warmth during a gaming session.

Pillowtalk - Theodore comes home to find you sleeping on the couch and picks you up, taking you to bed.

Beautiful People Beautiful Problems - Theo finds out you've been hiding something from him when he finds you in the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Pure Heart - You found Theo’s journal. Now, you don't know how to act around him.

Fights - Theo comes to you after a fight....again.

Not Even The Addressee - When Theodore's name gets misspelled he's not happy about it.

Flustered And Blushing - in which you're a flustered mess around Theo Nott and he absolutely adores it.

For The First Time - in which, the usual womaniser finds himself in love with a girl who doesn’t even know his name…

You Understand - Hogwarts students aren't exactly known for minding their own business. Thankfully, you and Theo speak a language they don't.

So This Is Love - there's a weird feeling that erupts in theo's chest whenever he looks at you and for the first time in his life his mind goes silent.

The Boyfriend Agreement - Your boyfriend tells you about an agreement you signed when you were kids.

Jealousy - an unexpected situation catches you off guard in the heart of florence and your boyfriend reveals a side of him you’ve never seen before.

Baby, Won't You Be My Girl?

Oh Bella - 3 times the reader teases Theo’s Italian roots + 1 time she celebrates them.

Clingy Sleepy Boyfriend - Your boyfriend doesn't want to let you go, even if it's to pee.

Study Break - just theodore wanting kisses while you’re busy studying.

Withdrawal - Theo decides to quit smoking, but doesn't realise that his decision would affect his girlfriend, too. ♡

Through The Wringer - Theo tries to get your attention by spoiling you with gifts. you pretend not to notice the shift just to mess with him. childhood friends to lovers.

Taking What's Not Yours - in which you have a bad habit of taking your boyfriend's things.

Like Snow On The Beach - christmas is your absolute favorite time of the year! the tree, the lights, the music, the food . . . however, to you, the most important thing about christmas is spending it with your loved ones.

Shut Up Kiss Me

Crying In The Courtyard - you find something out about your crush.

Matteo Riddle

Breaking Point - Mattheo gets into too many fights and you have enough and call off your relationship. However you are still the only person that can get through to him.

Cold Comfort - Mattheo has one rule: any girl can share his bed but none can stay the night. when the unexpected happens, and you're begging to be the first, you find out why he had the rule in the first place.

Height Difference

After The Storm - you can’t find your boyfriend after an argument, and the castle is surrounded by dementors

For You - Mattheo gets into another fight with a new guy and when Professor McGonnagal surprisingly does not punish your boyfriend for it, you discover what she really thinks about your relationships.

Sleeping After An Argument - you decided not to sleep with him after an argument.

Veritaserum - When mattheo drinks veritaserum on a bet, he's confident he doesn't have anything to hide... until you show up.

Cuddle Comfort

The Black Lake - Mattheo is hogwarts' triwizard tournament champion, and he's proven that he can crush the competition. but when the stakes are raised, and you're involved, nothing will get in his way.

Riddle's Girl - Mattheo mattheo has…feelings about you wearing his quidditch jersey.

White Xmas - Mattheo comes to spend christmas with you and your family.

Chicken Noodle Soup

Puppy Eyes - your boyfriend suckered you into becoming an animagus with him, and knowing him it was probably to cause mischief.

Please, Please, Please - mattheo is your slightly toxic, slightly unhinged, but absolutely adoring and completely obsessed boyfriend.

Draco Malfoy

Busy Bee - you may have accidentally fallen asleep on Draco, but in your defense, he was really comfortable to sleep on! now, though, you're forced to face your feelings for him and do something about them.

Pretty Girl - although you're a hufflepuff, Draco can't seem to suppress his feelings for you and has been asking you out since third year

Buy Me Presents - Draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official.

Sweet Disaster - You and draco are inseparable friends, but deeper feelings come to light when you're asked on a date with someone who is determined to take advantage of you.

Mornings By His Side - Draco Malfoy was a dream, and being able to sleep with him was a dream come true.

Lorenzo Berkshire

You’re Not Everyone Else - Enz thought he knew everything there was to know when it came to wooing pretty witches, but it will take a lot more than the botanical gardens to win you over.

Dress

In A World Full Of Boys He's A Gentleman - in a world filled with men, there’s Lorenzo Berkshire, a sweetheart and gentleman.

Stiles Stilinski

Call Me Biles - Ever since you started dating Stiles, you've been calling him Biles and no one told you you were wrong.

Tired

Rainstorms - it’s the middle of the night and you wake up due to the heavy rainstorm outside, and after you get up, your boyfriend Stiles, can’t really sleep on his own.

Were Dating?

Others

"Oh Shit, Are You Crying?" - Tangerine accidentally hurts your feelings.

"Oh Shit Are You Crying?" - Your boyfriend makes you feel unloved in some stupid misunderstanding he quickly remedies.

Pretty Boy - everyone knew you had a thing for the boy who lived, everyone, that is, except for Harry Potter himself.

Lovers Rock - you find a strange creature in the streets of New York that happens to be Newt Scamander's.

My Absolute Favourites - ♡

My Period Comfort Masterlist

[corroded-hellfire]

Food, Football, and Friends - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Summary: With so many people coming over for Thanksgiving dinner, it's no surprise things get a little chaotic.

Note: Happy Thanksgiving!

Warnings: chaos that is typical of this family, Eddie's breeding kink doesn't take a holiday off, Dustin is married to someone that is not Suzy sorry

Words: 3.7k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Not bothering to knock, Steve opens the front door to the Munson household and pops his head inside.

“This looks like a nice house,” he says as he pushes the door all the way open. “Might be able to steal something nice.”

A huff comes from behind him and Mia pushes in the house past her father. The six-year-old scowls as she leans down to unbuckle her shiny Mary Janes.

“We’re not thieves!” Her voice carries throughout the house, summoning the little person who has been waiting all day to see her.

“Miaaaaaa!” Eliza’s heavy tread thumps down the hallway as she runs into the living room at full speed. The friction of her white tights against the carpet halts her when she reaches her destination. 

Before Mia can answer, Steve crouches down in front of the youngest Munson. He frowns and tilts his head, a few chestnut locks falling in his eyes.

“What about me? Am I chop liver?” 

Your toddler giggles and leaps into her uncle’s arms. She wraps her arms around his neck for a hug, but before she can pull away, Steve stands up, hoisting her over his shoulder in an attempt to keep her from her best friend.

“Noooo!” Eliza whines, her little legs kicking. 

“Oh, fine,” Steve sighs as he lets her down.

Eliza straightens her black and white dress before looking up to see Wayne walk in the door right behind Nancy.

“Grandpa!”

“There’s my girl!”

Wayne scoops her up and peppers kisses all over her face. The small girl giggles and tries to push his face away, his scruff tickling her.

“Where’s Daddy?” Wayne asks.

“Dunno,” Eliza answers with a shrug.

“He’s outside,” Luke says as he strolls into the room.

Nancy can’t help but notice how her youngest’s face lights up when the twelve-year-old Munson walks into the room. She clamps her lips together, trying not to giggle at Mia’s adorable crush on Luke, acting like she doesn’t notice the hearts in the young redhead’s eyes.

“Should we lock him out?” Steve asks about your husband.

Wayne sighs. “Eh, he’s scrappy, he’ll find a way back in,” he says as he sets Eliza back down. 

The moment her feet hit the ground, the toddler runs over to Mia and throws her arms around the girl’s sparkly silver dress. Concentration on Luke broken, Mia laughs and falls to the ground with Eliza, giving her a hug in return. 

“Yeah,” Steve says as he watches the girls. “I think the little munchkin would let him in.” He nods towards Eliza.

“She can’t reach the door,” Danny points out to his dad.

“Eliza finds a way to do anything,” Luke says, his tone conveying all the experience he’s had in that regard.

Before anyone else can add to the conversation, the sound of clinking and clanging pots and pans rings out from the kitchen. Automatically, everyone's heads turn in that direction. 

“Shit!” Your voice echoes out into the living room.

Immediately, Nancy brushes past her husband, patting him on the chest as she goes by.

“Play nice,” she tells him as she continues into the kitchen. The sight before Nancy has her biting her lip to keep in a grin for the second time in a matter of minutes. There you stand, holding a pot lid in one hand, holding the top of your head in the other. Your friend cocks an eyebrow at you. “Everything okay in here?”

Lamely, you raise the pot lid and give her a small wave with it.

“Gave myself a concussion looking for this so the mashed potatoes better taste damn near perfect.”

“I’m sure they will,” Nancy assures you, coming closer to take the lid out of your hand. She gently sets it on the pot simmering on the stove and turns back to you. “Anything I can do to help?”

Steve’s voice booms out from the living room before you can respond.

“You’re on, Munson!”

Eyes rolling skyward, you heave a sigh and shake your head.

“Keep our husbands from injuring themselves before dinner?” you ask.

“I’m afraid not.” Nancy winces. It’s an impossible task, you both know that.

As you open the refrigerator to grab the milk, Luke runs into the room–never one for just walking–with a grin on his face. 

“We’re going to play football!” he announces.

You raise an eyebrow as you measure out the cup of milk to add to the mashed potatoes.

“Who exactly is ‘we?” you ask.

“Me, Ryan, Theo, Danny, Uncle Steve, Grandpa, Daddy…and uh, maybe Natalie.”

The mention of your husband has you turning to give your son your full attention, letting the measuring glass of milk clank down on the counter.

“Your father is going to play football?”

“He’s gonna try,” Luke says with a mischievous snicker. You completely agree with your sports-loving son’s disbelieving and amused tone. You’re not even sure Eddie knows what the different positions in football are called.

“Is that what he and Steve were bickering about?” Nancy crosses her arms over her chest and rests her hip against the edge of the kitchen table.

“Yeah,” he affirms. “Mia is gonna stay in the living room with Liza.”

“Luke, come on!” Theo calls out.

“My daughter is a little mother hen,” Nancy says with a smile as Luke runs out to join his new team. Mia may be the youngest sibling in her family, but that means she takes the responsibility of having a toddler best friend very seriously. 

Noise clatters from your backyard and you take a few steps to look out the large window over the kitchen sink. Through it, you can see Steve and Eddie standing next to each other, pointing at the mass of children that are in front of them—all of them except Ryan and Natalie.

“Come on, it will be fun,” Ryan says from the next room just as you’re wondering about him.

The unmistakable sigh of a teenage girl is heard before Natalie agrees, “Fine.”

Their footsteps fade out the door and Nancy raises her brow at you.

“I’m impressed,” she says. “No one can get Natalie to do anything anymore.”

“Hormones?” you ask, turning back to the stove as some boiled water sloshes over the side of a pot. The steam hisses and floats off into the air.

“Oh, yeah. Having a teenage daughter is great.”

“Oof, I do not miss being a teenager,” you say.

“What, you stopped, like, last year?” 

You spin around to see Nancy smirking at you, and you whip your kitchen towel at her in an attempt to wipe the shit eating grin off her face. She laughs and swats the rag away, affectionately wrapping an arm around your waist as she comes to stand beside you.

“Come on, now let me help you,” she chides.

“Fine,” you relent. “Want to chop those carrots?”

“No problem.”

Loud footfalls stampede towards the kitchen, but they’re not quite as heavy as Eliza’s usually are, so you’re not surprised when Mia comes racing into the kitchen. One of these times these running children are going to hurt themselves.

“Auntieeee?” she asks you as she comes to a stop.

“Miaaaaaa?”

“Eliza is hungry,” she tells you. “Can I get her a snack?”

“Sure thing, cutie.” You wipe your hands off on the towel and walk over to the pantry. The Cheerio box is right at eyelevel as you reach for it and hand it to Mia. “Just make sure she doesn’t eat too many, okay?”

“Okay!” she calls over her shoulder as she runs out with the box.

Just as you’re about to reach for a knife, the doorbell rings. You head out to the living room, smiling when you see Eliza and Mia sitting in front of the television, sharing Cheerios and watching the rerun of the Thanksgiving Day Parade. The big Snoopy balloon passes by as you grab the doorknob. There stand Lucas and Max with their daughter Tiffany, and Dustin with his wife Anne and their baby girl, Molly. The moment she sees you, Tiffany launches herself forward with a squeal. She wraps her arms around your hips and hugs herself against your body.

“Well, hello there,” you greet her. To allow everyone else into the house, you pick up the six-year-old and take a few steps back from the door. “You wanna join Eliza and Mia?” When she nods, you let Tiffany down to go join the other girls.

The moment your arms are free, you’re being pulled into more hugs with everyone and wishes for a happy Thanksgiving. Last but not least, you pluck Molly from her mother’s arms and give her a big kiss on the cheek.

“I can’t believe how big she is!” you coo. Now well over a year old, the last time you saw the youngest Henderson was when she was nine months. 

Dustin grabs her walker from the car, since she’s still new to the whole walking thing and not the steadiest. He sets it down in the living room and you plop her down in the Minnie Mouse themed rover. She instantly takes off in the direction of the television, as if knowing she wants to be a part of this little girl gang.

“Eliza?” you call. “Do you want to come say hi?”

It takes her a second, but finally, Eliza finishes the Cheerio that’s in her hand and pushes herself up on to her feet. She toddles over, smiling when she sees her Aunt Max—who is arguably her favorite person who is not a Munson or Harrington. Her aunt gives her a big hug. Then, Eliza stops in front of Dustin. Saying nothing, she just stares up at him, her big brown eyes blinking a few times.

“Hi, Eliza!” When your daughter doesn’t answer, Dustin kneels down to be at her level. “Remember me? Uncle Dustin?”

She just keeps staring.

Lucas laughs at the little girl’s nonreaction and snatches her up into his own arms. “Mwah!” he presses a kiss to her cheek. Instantly, Eliza grins and wraps her arms around his neck for a hug.

Dustin pouts up at the scene before him, lower lip jutting out dramatically as he stands back up.

“Hey! I’m the cool uncle!” he protests. And it’s true; if the other kids were in the house right now, they’d all be climbing over Dustin until the poor man gets lost in a sea of children.

“Guess not anymore,” Lucas says with a shrug.

“It’s gotta be because I live further away,” Dustin argues. “She sees me less.”

“Sure,” Lucas says, his tone far from sincere.

Max rolls her eyes at the two men’s bickering, presumably tired of it after hearing it for almost a decade and a half. The redhead takes Eliza from her husband’s arms and turns to face Dustin’s wife.

“These stilly boys,” Max says to Eliza. “Say hi to your Aunt Anne?”

Your daughter gives a small wave, but it’s clear from the blank look on her face that she just wants to be put down to go back to Mia. Sensing this as well, Max grants her wish.

“Where’s Ed?” Dustin asks.

“In the backyard,” you say. “Playing football.”

“Football?” Dustin almost chokes on his own spit out of shock.

“I know,” you say.

“I have to see this,” Lucas says, looking towards the back door and rubbing his hands together in anticipation. 

He and Dustin go to join the game in the backyard while Max and Anne follow you into the kitchen. Nancy greets the new arrivals while you take up your previous position at the stove. As you lift the lid off the pot on the back burner, you listen to the women behind you talking and laughing. It brings a smile to your face to be surrounded by women friends. Besides a two-year-old, the only others in the house are guys. And as much as you love them, it’s not the same as having other ladies around.

Two sets of running feet zoom past the kitchen and the sound of the squeaky hinges on the backdoor let you know the two six-year-olds have gone to join the fun outside. You peek back out the window and chuckle to yourself when you see Mia and Tiffany cheering on the sidelines. Unsurprisingly, they seem to be cheering for the team that Luke is on. Mia’s idea, no doubt.

There are only a few more potatoes to add to the pot in front of you, so once those are in you go out into the living room to check on the younger girls. A gasp strangles out of you when you first see the two. Then as your brain has a moment to adjust and see that everything is okay, you break out into laughter.

“What did you do, little girl?” you ask your daughter. You shake your head in amusement as you walk over to the two of them, both covered in Cheerios that are also scattered around the living room floor.

Eliza grins up at you, small pieces of Cheerios still sticking to her baby teeth.

“Molly hungry!” she tells you.

“Oh, okay,” you say with a nod. “So, you thought to give her a snack like Mia did for you?”

“Mhmm!” She sounds quite proud of herself, and it makes your heart melt.

“Well, that was very thoughtful of you.”

Laughter erupts from behind you, and you look over your shoulder to see Max walking into the room. She takes in the mess before her and looks between the two babies.

“What’re you troublemakers doing?” she asks as she comes up beside you. 

A timer in the kitchen drags your attention away from the conversation and Max waves you on in that direction.

“Go ahead, take care of that. I’ll clean this up, then take these two outside. They can be the referees.”

“Thank you.” You give Max’s shoulder an appreciative squeeze as you walk past her.

Back in the kitchen, you turn off the timer and pull the green bean casserole out of the oven. 

Cheers ring in from the backyard, bringing a smile to your face. Anne steps up to look out the window at everyone.

“I think I’m going to go make sure no one is doing anything stupid,” she says.

“Nurse is never off duty, huh?” Nancy asks with a smile.

When Anne steps out of the room, you turn to Nancy and raise an eyebrow. 

“She wants to make sure no one is doing anything stupid?” you ask. “She clearly doesn’t know that is most of what our husbands do.”

Nancy laughs and nods her head in agreement.

“We should keep her here as an on-call nurse.”

“She’d be busier here than in the ER,” you joke. 

You and Nancy work silently side by side for a little while, before Nancy notices you starting to buzz around the kitchen more, a hectic mood settling over you. She licks over her lips before looking in your direction.

“Is something burning?” she asks.

“What?”

You whip your head around to stare at her before looking at the stove. 

“Smell it?” she asks, grabbing a paper towel to wipe her hands off on.

You take a few deep inhales, and a frown pinches your face.

“No,” you admit.

“That’s because there’s nothing burning,” Nancy says, taking a few steps closer to you. She rests her hands on your shoulders and looks you in the eye. “But it got you to take some deep breaths. Take a few more, okay?”

Catching on to her scheme, you narrow your eyes at her as you do indeed take a few more deep breaths.

“You’re sneaky,” you tell her.

“I have to be with four kids,” she replies. 

It’s not long before the game outside comes to an end and people start coming back into the house in waves. Eddie finally comes in and your heart stutters in your chest when you see him. His face is flushed from the exertion, his breathing a little labored for the same reason. His hair is frizzier than usual and when he comes closer to you, you can feel the chill coming off of him. It’s only confirmed when you put your hands on his cheeks and feel how cool they are to the touch. His smile makes you dizzy, not even registering how cold his lips are against yours when he leans in for a kiss.

“Everything smells good,” he mumbles against your mouth.

“Did you win?” you ask, reluctantly going to check on the turkey.

His sigh tells you the answer before his words do.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he grumbles.

Both you and Nancy share a chuckle as he sulks out of the room. Ryan pops in right after, going over to the sink to wash his hands. His face is flushed like his father’s, but his hair is faring far better. Wayne, Theo, and Danny come in behind your son and Wayne goes into the fridge to grab water bottles for all the boys.

“Can I help?” Ryan asks you as he dries his hands.

“Of course, sweetheart.” You press a kiss to his head as you slip by him to grab the salt. “Do you want to get started on the stuffing?”

“Sure.”

Danny wrinkles up his nose as he takes a sip of his water.

“Cooking is for girls,” the eight-year-old declares.

“Danny!” Nancy immediately snaps. 

“Hey,” Wayne says, nudging the boy on the shoulder. “I was a cook in the army. That don’t sound girly, does it?”

Danny shakes his head, looking cowed.

“No,” he says softly.

“What do you say?” Nancy asks.

“I’m sorry.”

Ryan ruffles the boy’s hair before pretending to spill the bowl of breadcrumbs he’s carrying all over him. Danny laughs and runs away before Ryan can actually make a mess of him.

“Hey, all available squirts!” Eddie calls from the next room.

“I’m not available,” Ryan mumbles, obviously not keen on whatever his father has planned.

Luke trails into the kitchen and looks around, confused like he hasn’t lived there for years.

“Uh, I’m supposed to set the table. Where’s the stuffs?” he asks.

“By yourself?” you ask, showing him where you already have the cookery and cutlery out and ready to go.

“Nope.” 

Luke lets out a small chuckle but before you can ask what’s so funny, Mia follows in behind him. It’s clear she volunteered to be your son’s assistant.

“I’m here to help!” she announces. 

Carefully, you load up both kids with as much as you think they’re able to handle. Luckily, a parade of other small humans comes in to finish the job.

“Quite the operation you’ve got going here,” you say to your husband as you step into the dining room. “Putting the kids to work.”

“They’re my elves,” he says with a shrug. 

You giggle and press a kiss to his cheek before walking back into the kitchen.

Ryan and Natalie amble in, neither looking too happy. Eddie doesn’t ask why; he knows they’ll tell him.

“I don’t want to sit at the kids’ table,” Ryan whines. For a fourteen-year-old, Eddie thinks Ryan gripes more than his literal baby sister.

Natalie looks at the adult table, then at the kids’ table. There are nine chairs seated at each and she’s clearly trying to figure out how two can be added to the larger table.

“Me neither,” she says while mentally calculating. 

Lucas steps into the room behind the teens and Eddie sees a great opportunity. 

“Okay, you guys can sit with us,” he tells them. “As long as you contribute to the conversation.”

“Really?” Natalie asks, instantly perking up. It amazes Eddie how quickly she goes from looking like Wednesday Addams to Pippi Longstocking.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He looks over at his former Hellfire Club member and nods at him. “By the way Lucas, did you see that the DOW is down three points today?”

Lucas doesn’t miss a beat.

“Huh,” he muses. “You know, I was just talking to my broker about that over a rousing game of golf. He suggested I take another look at my portfolio.”

“Ugh fine, we’ll sit at the kids’ table,” Ryan groans.

The two of them slink off to the other side of the room as Eddie and Lucas share a quiet laugh.

“Don’t even know if I got all the terms right,” Lucas admits.

Eddie, Ryan, Nancy, and Max all help you take the food out to the table—well, tables. Eliza watches it all as Wayne settles her in her highchair at the kids’ table. She’s practically salivating as her chocolate eyes move from dish to dish. Even Mia taking the seat between her and Luke doesn’t take her attention from her dinner. 

Annie settles Molly into her own highchair—Eliza’s old one that she outgrew. When Eddie had gotten it out of the garage both of you got a little misty-eyed that your daughter is getting so big.

The turkey is placed at the head of the table, right in front of Eddie’s seat. He picks up the large carving knife and Luke over-dramatically gasps from his place at the kids’ table. You finish scooping some mashed potatoes onto Eliza’s plate and playfully tug on one of Luke’s curls.

Eddie glances up from time to time, watching as you make sure each kid has a little bit of everything on the plate in front of them. 

“You’re gonna lose a finger, boy,” Wayne warns. The older man smiles though, at the way his nephew looks at his wife. 

Eddie sets the knife down and discreetly pops the wishbone out of the bird. If he doesn’t set it aside now all the kids will be arguing over it and Eddie isn’t sure there’s enough wine in the house to deal with that. This way, Eddie can show the kids the carved-up turkey and point to where the wishbone “should be” and shrug, telling them they’re out of luck. He looks forward to using it with you after the kids go to bed. 

You giggle as Molly reaches up and puts a dab of cranberry sauce on your nose. Eddie grins as he watches you. He had thought that seeing you with a baby wouldn’t hit him in quite the same way after Eliza was born, but it hasn’t quelled the yearning. 

Taking advantage of the kids grabbing the rolls in a frenzy, he slips the wishbone into his pocket. He already knows what his wish will be.

[uofcosmos]

mark bf hcs

sfw

- type to say "babe this one's for you" and miss

- says dude but romantically

- thinks you're his best friend, his gf, his bbg, his everything

- makes you pinky promise him and takes that shit to heart

- thinks you're the funniest person alive

- is always touching you in some form, especially in front of other people

- the type to embarrass you in public and think it's really funny

- sends you every tiktok he sees that he thinks you would even vaguely like

- main form of physical affection: his arm around your shoulder with his arm hanging off of your shoulder and he expects you to hold his hand

- extremely clingy when he's drunk (canonically a lightweight) and if he's out without you he's texting you the entire night

- if you leave the room to get something rq, he just stares at the door until you come back

- biggest yes-man in the world

- if you asked for his opinion on choosing between outfits he would be so stressed cause "babe you look too good in both of them :/"

- if you showed him your eyelash curler and fake lashes he would physically flinch and be so so concerned

- asks you to use them on him so he can experience "the same pain"

- matching social media pfps

- you would catch him thanking god that you're his girl

- likes writing music with you in his lap (says he needs his muse with him all the time)

- starts fantasizing about a future with you on the second date

- go to cuddling: he's on his back and you're on your side using his arm as a pillow

- but he moves around too much in his sleep so you never wake up like that

- HES the rapper gf 

- spontaneously starts beatboxing and rapping about how hot you are and sometimes goes “dude wait… this one’s kinda good i need to write this one down”

- backhugs all the time and cages his arms around you esp when you’re talking to someone else so that he can get your attention 

- paints your nails for you with the utmost concentration (his tongues sticking out and everything) but it’s still messy asf 

- gets flustered when you make sex jokes

nsfw under the cut !! mdni

- also backhugs and starts kissing your neck when he’s horny (it’s his signature move)

- has a sex playlist that consists of solely the weeknd and chase atlantic and plays it religiously when you're fucking

- pleasure dom - gets off on how well you're getting off

- esp the first few times he'd be super stressed about how good he is at giving you head

- when you try to give head the first time he panics and keeps saying you don't have to and asking if you're sure

- finishes in 25 seconds cause he says you just feel too good

- tries to dirty talk once but he starts mumbling it and gives up (never does it again)

- he has such a tiny waist, he's super into it when you grab his waist or back when he's on top of you

- loves it when you put his arms around his neck

- he's really into putting you in odd positions, loves it when your legs are around his waist/shoulders

- mating press

- whiner over groaner

- really into riding, especially when he doesn't have to do too much of the work (he's a busy guy)

- if you came out of the shower and dropped your towel in front of him to walk to the bedroom he's tripping over himself to follow you

- very obvious afterglow, everyone can tell when he's just fucked

- makes really distinct faces when he's fucking

- would try to convince you to let him record your moans to use in the back of his songs (he's half-joking)

- trails kisses down you and is super into eye contact when he does it too

- always needs to see your face when you're fucking

- starts begging way too early when you even think about edging him

- loves when there’s visible scratches on his back so that it’s just a little secret between the two of you 

- every time he tries to edge you and you start whining or getting a little upset he gives in super easily cause he just loves you too much 

- carries you to the shower to clean the both of you off but he never tries anything in there, it's only about you

[z0mbiezbite]

Modern Dedication (Draft)

Yandere Gotham x M!reader

Warning: these fanfic are gonna be for freaks by freaks. Also bad spelling and punctuation - this was posted for I can weed out anything unnecessary.

(Y/n) pulled a pack of Marlboros from inside his suit pocket. “Cigarette?”

A person was by his desk with a body of a battle axe and a cape that pools like a melted candle - Batman. chitty chitty bang bang, Batman. “The Joker, where is he?

(Y/n) struck the cigarette in his mouth, disinterested, “I’m not his keeper, babes.”

“A week before he escapes, the only outgoing mail he sends is addressed to you.” He said, and threw a stack of letters on (Y/n)’s desk - unintelligible and informal.

It was hardly evidence of anything. It only stressed that (Y/n) is one of the few who put up with the Joker’s insanity and Batman knew it. He had a sinking suspicion, Vengeance came for a different reason.

Quite foolishly, (Y/n) asked “Is a client not allowed to talk to their lawyer?” As his cigarette smoke blew over his shoulders like a locomotive.

"Your client is about to commit a crime. Legal confidentiality doesn’t protect you here.” Of course like all things that had to do with the Joker, the letters were incriminating.

Resigning himself, (Y/n) crossed his legs and pinched the bridge of his nose, “And you want me to...”

“Find him. He responds to you.” His voice held a slightly accusatory tone.

“Gross. Why’d you phrase it like that?”

“(Y/n).” Batman studied him with steal eyebrow only given to seasoned detectives. (Y/n) could practically feel Batman’s palpating anger.

Truthfully, (Y/n) didn’t find his particular reason a big deal, people die everyday whether from a stroke or strangulation from a clown. However, he knew Batman roughly cared and that was enough to throw a dog a bone.

“Alright, Alright.” (Y/n) held up a conciliatory palm. He reached for a pen in a cup on his desk and wrote laboriously on a note sheet; 50 W 33rd St. The ink was still wet and the hand writing, masculine.

He gave the note to Batman. “It’s a strip club” (Y/n) said “He goes there sometimes to blow off steam.”

(Y/n) unceremoniously tacked on, “You’ll like it there. They have big chested hard bodies that you can bury yourself in.”

Rather violently, Batman fisted his tuxedo in his hands. (Y/n) could hear his chair crackle underneath the weight. “You’re revolting. People are going to die.”

(Y/n) tried to animate his face in symphony. “Like that shit heel, Jason, did?”

That seemed to get him. Batman lunged his fist forward so hard and fast, (Y/n) felt his broad latex knuckles hit the back of his brain. His head dipped in a thunderbolt of pain with his broken nose and busted lip and a fury on his tongue,

“Fuck! You ass-“

(Y/n)’s frenzied sentence cut off jaggedly as Batman knuckled deep into his lapel once more and smashed their lips together in a ferocity that always seemed to always catch (Y/n) off guard.

Batman has always been restrained and aloof, a caution that comes with being vigilante. But now, from this close, (Y/n) could see the way Batman’s muscles worked, the flex of his shoulders - not out of shyness nor shame, but desire that only his skin could keep inside.

When they parted with hot and heavy breath, Batman, acutely missing (Y/n)’s cocaine tint tongue, said, “You owe it to me to find him.”

And, (Y/n), utterly dazed, licked his bloodied lip and said “You know how to keep a man wanting, bats.” then dipped his head in for another kiss.

The way Batman’s tongue lapped at the sliced skin of his bruised lip - (Y/n) knew he was a man possessed.

[p0orbaby]

Do Not Disturb (Unless You're Drunk and Nosy)

summary: privacy? you wish

warnings: suggestive, alcohol, literally everyone being a little shit, angry ale (hot)

a/n: may or may not be inspired by real events…

word count: 1.6k

-

You always thought getting walked in on would be, you know, mortifying. Like, your face turns tomato red, you start stammering, and then you spend the rest of your life avoiding the person who caught you with your pants down—literally. But it turns out that, in reality, it’s way worse than that.

Here’s the thing: Alexia Putellas is perfect. You know this, because you’ve spent an unhealthy amount of time cataloging her perfections. Her perfectly toned legs that could crush a coconut. Her perfectly sharp jawline that could carve Mount Rushmore. Her perfectly soft lips that could silence an entire stadium with a single kiss. And when you’re drunk at a friends house party, it’s easy to forget that this perfection isn’t something you should casually indulge in right now, in a random upstairs bedroom, while everyone else is downstairs playing beer pong and comparing their World Cup tattoos.

But when Alexia grabs your hand and drags you away from the chaos, her eyes all dark and dangerous, any rational thought you have dribbles out of your ears like last week’s gossip. So here you are, in this bed—well, on this bed, because you didn’t even make it all the way under the covers—desperately trying to remember how to breathe while Alexia’s tongue is doing things that would make a priest reconsider his career choices.

You’re about to reach the kind of nirvana people write songs about when the door slams open. Not opens—slams. As if someone was just waiting for the right moment to ruin your life.

“Oh my God,” someone says in a tone that suggests they’ve just witnessed a murder, except, of course, that would be preferable.

Alexia’s head snaps up so fast you’re surprised she doesn’t get whiplash, and you have about two seconds to see the wild panic in her eyes before her entire body goes rigid like a cat that’s just been sprayed with water. She’s still on top of you, which would be hot if you weren’t currently wondering whether you’re legally obligated to register as a sex offender for being caught like this.

And who’s standing there in the doorway? None other than Jenni, who you’re pretty sure was voted “Most Likely to Show Up Uninvited” in high school. She’s holding a half-empty bottle of tequila in one hand and a phone in the other, like she’s been documenting the worst possible moments of the night, and this one’s going to top the list.

“Holy shit,” Jenni says, blinking as if she’s trying to reboot her brain. It doesn’t work, because the next thing out of her mouth is, “Is this a private party, or can anyone join?”

That’s it. You’re going to die. This is how you die. Not from the embarrassment but because Alexia is going to murder you both. You can see it in her eyes. She’s doing some very fast maths in her head, and it ends with Jenni’s body floating down a river somewhere.

“Close the door,” Alexia snaps, and it’s the first thing she’s said in what feels like hours. Her voice is sharp enough to cut glass. Jenni just stares at her for a moment, then at you—still half-naked, because of course you are—and then at Alexia again, like she’s debating whether the smart move is to leave or to stay and further ruin your life.

But of course, Jenni’s never been one for smart moves.

“Oh, no, no, no,” she says, waving her tequila bottle around like it’s a magic wand that’s going to make this situation less awkward. “This is gold. I’ve got to tell the others.” She turns around and yells down the stairs, “Hey, guys! Get up here, quick!”

You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to crawl under the bed and maybe live there forever with the dust bunnies and whatever sock the last person to use this room lost. But you don’t get the chance to do any of that, because Alexia has now flipped the fuck out, and she’s off the bed and across the room in a flash, slamming the door shut with enough force to rattle the windows.

“Are you insane?” Alexia hisses at Jenni, who looks like she’s genuinely surprised that Alexia isn’t finding this whole situation hilarious. “Do you have a death wish?”

Jenni, who’s clearly never learned to read the room, just grins, leaning against the doorframe like she’s auditioning for the role of “World’s Biggest Pain in the Ass.” “Hey, don’t get mad at me. You’re the one who decided to get frisky in someone else’s house”

You’re still lying there, half-dressed, your shirt tangled up with some lacy thing that definitely belongs to Alexia, watching the two of them bicker like you’re not even here. You could say something, of course. You could try to diffuse the situation, maybe crack a joke or two, but that would require actual brain function, and right now, all you’ve got is the mental equivalent of elevator music.

Alexia’s about to bite Jenni’s head off—probably literally—when, as if the universe wasn’t satisfied with your current level of humiliation, there’s a knock on the door.

“Jenni? What’s going on?” You recognise that voice. It’s Mapi, followed by a snicker from Patri and what sounds like Ingrid trying and failing to shush them. Great. Just great. Now you’ve got an audience.

Before anyone can react, Jenni swings the door open with the enthusiasm of someone who’s about to introduce a sold-out concert, and your teammates spill into the room like they’ve been rehearsing this all night.

“What the—” Mapi starts, then stops dead when she sees you, then Alexia, and then your clothes all over the floor like some kind of chaotic breadcrumb trail. Her eyebrows shoot up so high they practically disappear into her hairline. “Oh, wow”

There’s a moment of silence that’s so uncomfortable you could bottle it and sell it to masochists. You’re pretty sure you’re about to melt into the bed and become one with the mattress. Meanwhile, Patri has the audacity to wolf whistle, which earns her a glare from Alexia that could stop a freight train.

“So,” Ingrid says, doing a terrible job at hiding her amusement. “This is…unexpected”

“Unexpected?” Mapi echoes, looking at Ingrid like she’s just suggested that the earth is flat. “This is fucking hilarious”

Jenni’s practically doubled over with laughter now, leaning on Mapi for support, which only sets her off too. Pretty soon, all three of them are giggling like schoolgirls who’ve just found out their teacher’s dating the P.E. teacher.

Alexia is standing there, jaw clenched, probably wondering if anyone would notice if she threw them all out the window. You, meanwhile, have reached a state of embarrassment that transcends space and time. You’re floating above the situation, looking down at your life and wondering where it all went so horribly, horribly wrong.

“Can we not make a big deal out of this?” you ask, even though you know it’s hopeless. “It’s not like we were…” You trail off, realizing that there’s no good way to end that sentence. Not like you were what? Sorting laundry? Rearranging the furniture?

“Having sex?” Patri supplies helpfully, still grinning like she’s just won the lottery. “You totally were. We walked in at the good part, didn’t we?”

Alexia makes a strangled sound in the back of her throat, which is probably the only thing that stops her from committing actual homicide. “Out. All of you. Now”

But no one moves. Because why would they? They’re having the time of their lives. Jenni’s already pulling out her phone, probably to tweet something like “Just walked in on the most awkward team bonding experience ever #FML”

“We’re not going to let you live this down, you know,” Mapi says, her smirk so wide it’s a wonder her face doesn’t split in half. “This is going to be the story we tell at every team event from now until the end of time”

“Your kids are going to hear about this,” Patri adds, not even bothering to hide her amusement. “Hell, your grandkids. This is legendary”

You’re going to need therapy after this. Maybe a lot of therapy. But, honestly, that’s future you’s problem. Right now, you just want them to leave so you can salvage whatever dignity you have left and maybe finish what you started with Alexia—assuming, of course, that this hasn’t killed the mood entirely.

Finally, because even she knows when enough is enough, Jenni straightens up and nods toward the door. “Alright, alright. We’ll give you two lovebirds some privacy.” She winks at Alexia, who looks like she might actually be considering taking up a new sport just to avoid ever having to see Jenni again. “But don’t take too long. We’re going to need the play-by-play downstairs”

With that, they finally—finally—file out of the room, still snickering and whispering like they’ve just uncovered the juiciest gossip of the century. As the door closes behind them, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Well,” you say, turning to look at Alexia, who’s now standing in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. “That went as good as expected”

She gives you a look that could freeze hell, but then, after a moment, she sighs and shakes her head, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “We are never doing this again”

“Sex?” you ask, and the horrified expression that crosses her face makes you burst out laughing. “In someone else’s house,” you clarify, still giggling. “I think that’s a solid rule”

She rolls her eyes but then moves back toward the bed, a mischievous glint in her eyes that tells you maybe the night isn’t entirely ruined after all. “Well, we’re here now,” she says, climbing onto the mattress and pulling you toward her. “Might as well make the most of it”

[pearl-tarotist]

₊˚ପ⊹ Chose a pile: PACs that I never ended ༻¨*:·.

In this Pick A Pile, I bring different piles of various tarot readings that I never ended/ write more than one pile each.

It's random piles that focus on various areas, none of them are +18. I hope all of you enjoy it!

Not all those who wander are lost.

PILE 1: What will your future spouse find beautiful about you?

They like how intensely you are you. They are at aw that no matter how many styles and physical changes you go trough, there’s something unchangeable.

They ardently enjoy the look on your eyes, they think that they are always recognisable. Firmly, on the quote “the eyes are the window of the soul”.

They do also enjoy the touch of your hands, they like how soft they feel and how they can engulf your hands with theis. They like how, sometimes naughtily , you trace their skin with the tip of your fingers.

There’s also a freckle, for some, close to the eye or upper lip, that they enjoy kissing.

With the moon card, they enjoy the part of you no one can see, yes, emotionally and physically-wise. Emphasis on the chest zone. Your future spouse is always eager to see you naked. They deeply enjoy seeing you in the “purest” way, naked, with no make-up, no clothes nor masks that can hide who you are.

They are fond of your curves, the softness and the reaction of your skin, they could enjoy hugging you so hard that they leave some redness on you. You are just too cute not to annoy a little bit.

They also see behaviours on you that they find beautiful. You are strong and mature. They will feel safe around you. They could see you and think you are the perfect person to build a family with.

“There is nothing more beautiful than seeing a person being themselves. Imagine going through your day being unapologetically you.” (Steve Maraboli)

(4oP - The Chariot - The Moon - 10oP - King of Shells - Queen of Gems)

PILE 2: Your life as a fairytale

i.-Your “new” self: skills, magic.

  In a fairy-tale you would wake up in the middle of the night to be the underdog.

You would live in a big city, surrounded by commerce and loud noises, probably, a coastal city. Technology has no place in this city and you constantly hear stories of dangerous sea pirates and magicians. You like to watch through your window how people make business and speak to each other… to understand the real self of all of them… to not suffer the fate of being betrayed. Your skin holds a golden tone due to the sunlight and your cheeks are always sun-kissed. You dress with flowy clothes and leather boots.

You walk through people as a ghost, comfortable on seeing and on not being seen and when you found yourself involved in any drama you unroll the drama enough to end in the position that you want.

              In dangerous situations you would be forced to use your cleverness and intelligence to survive the obstacles of your adventure.  You would have to decide what you want and which option to choose even when both options are dangerous and unfavourable. There wouldn’t be time to smell the salty air of the shores nor to pay attention to the sand between your toes. Self-reflections and risking decisions are your thing. “For the skin of your teeth” would define your path and personality.

Surviving, barely, everything.

Your skills would involve: wittiness, the observation of details no one else sees, always being two steps in front of everyone and in general: finding the answers no one could have found. When someone asks for the answer to the riddle, you will be the only one answering.

“ What goes on four legs in the morning, on two legs at noon, and on three legs in the evening?”

When everything’s lost, you save them.

ii.-Your group of friends:

You have lost friends along the way in this fairy-tale. Some adventures ended and you had to return to your normal life and your daily projects. You do not keep contact with them on the regular, but sometimes at night you stay under the moon’s gaze and think of them. To the ones you can see and the one you are not able to reach.

At least two of them are fine and you can see them from time to time. Once you saw him in the market corner, convincing someone to make an unfavourable business, you smiled and thought about how they have not changed.

Then, you saw her, dancing heavily and breathless in the bar with a little child, hair messy and a smile that reached her eyes. Her skirt flowed graciously at the sound of the music and the cracks of the fire. She saw you looking and asked you to dance with her but you were tired, so you just sat down in a chair drinking a soft drink.

To the ones you have lost, you think about them at night, thinking about if you could have saved them if you had done things differently. You know you need to stop this self-pitying, but you are not ready yet to let them go.

iii.-Your lover/companion of life:

Your lover was a breath of fresh air, he was the beginning that you needed to leave all the pain and sadness behind. He is happiness and a reason to drink… to cheer for the Gods that have put both of you together and have made your cups full of love.

He is a warrior, always ready to defend you and to take care of you. Reckless and unafraid, your lover stole your heart without doubts. In the same way he charges for battle, he charged for you… You love the warmness of waking up in his arms and the coldness that leave your body when he hugs you at night. He cleans your cheeks with affections when you get dirty and is not afraid to argue with you if it is for your well-being.

You have found stability and the person you do not need to convince to stay, he has chosen you.

 2 of swords //The moon + 5 of Cups// Ace of cups + knight of wands.

PILE 3: Shufflemancy:romantic messages 

۵♡۵ Let’s forget about the problems, worries and economical issues. I just want to party and enjoy this beautiful night with you. Let’s forget about anything else that’s just not us. (Time of our lives- Pitbull).

۵♡۵ I want to have a date with you at the beach, next to the water, let’s have the perfect summer date. (Water-Brad Paisley)

۵♡۵ I just want you to be mine, but I know we are not together. That’s why I hate when you keep secrets from me. I worry about every guy you set your eyes on. (Secrets-The weekend).

۵♡۵ I am going to try my best to earn your trust as it seems that you have trust issues, but I cannot do it if you give up and start going after every guy you want because you get bored of the routine. I am also getting tired. (Emergency -Paramore).

۵♡۵ If maybe…I stoped chasing you, would you come to me? Would you lay next to me? Just like butterflies… (Chasing cars - Snow Patrol).

۵♡۵ I don’t want to be friends, I want the all or nothing. I don’t know how to make it more obvious to you, please understand. ۵♡۵ I wonder why you let me get to close to you if you were just going to push me back. I do wonder too if all your words and what you said was a lie. (Fingers crossed - Lauren Spencer Smith).

In general there is someone kind of disappointed about the fact that you decided to break up with them or just stop talking to them; this person is definitly still into you but it���s unable to handle all of your trust issues. This person still thinks about you daily.

[star-suh]

BasketBALLS

Kim Mingyu x Male Reader

cw: top mingyu, praise kink, protected sex, body worship, friends with benefits, pet names, some fluff sprinkled at the end, a bit of size kink, unrealistic amounts of cum lol, rimjob.

—

through the semesters he studied in the university, mingyu has stood out as one of the best basketball players. he dominates the ball completely and is a good leader who listens to his teammates, which has helped them achieve victory on many occasions. that, in addition to his good physique and cold personality, makes many people admire him and aspire to be like him some day. however, when he is with yn, his best friend, he changes completely. goes from being a big fierce wolf to an adorable little puppy.

their relationship went quickly from friends to friends with benefits when they found out they share some things in common.. and that they're both horny bitches who shared a dorm.

in the rehearsals mingyu’s eyes were glued towards yn while playing with the ball trying to get his attention, “how was that, you like it” he asks yn with so much joy on him that the other can almost see little stars glowing on his eyes and around his face, “yes you were perfect gyu.. like you always are” yn pets his head and cheeks “you're so handsome” he later adds.

the basketball game continued, at the end mingyu's team won as expected, "hey mingyu, let's go celebrate" said one of his teammates, "umm well it's that... i'm feeling very tired… so you guys can go without me"; "okay captain but if you want to join us later we will be at the same bar as always" mingyu nods and then turns around and looks for yn, his eyes showed that he is hungry for pleasure, the excitement of the game going straight towards his cock, thank god his underwear was able to hide his erection well. both made eye contact, with just doing that yn knew what mingyu wanted and he willingly would give him that.

“fuck, you always hit the right spots” yn said in between moans and pants, “of course i havw to please my baby” he keeps on thrusting, the mixture of the condom's texture, his hips movements and the almost slow thrusts makes yn go crazy, mingyu definitely knows how to use his dick.

yn's hands went up and down mingyu's body, tracing every bulging muscle of his big arms, caressing his big chest and toned abs. “you're like a greek god gyu~ look at this amazing body.. a pretty boy with a pretty body”. yn lift himself up with his arms and started kissing the other's collarbones and chest, whispering sweet nothings to his ear, things like “sexy boy”; “you're being such a good boy for me”; “you look so hot all sweaty while playing basketball” turn mingyu on and tn knows it because he can feel his dick throbbing and growing inside him.

“am i being a good boy for ynnie?” mi gyu pouts while showering the other's neck with kisses and hickeys, “yes you are.. you know how to make me feel good.. you're amazing gyu.. i'm so proud of you~”.

mingyu lay down while yn took off the condom and began to masturbate him, "come on, mingyu, flex those arms for me" the bigger one obeyed. yn began to kiss each muscle. his tongue went from his armpit to his hand, tracing each vein with it, “you taste so good, i can't get enough of you” he said in almost a whisper tone “and you make me feel so good” mingyu added and the both kissed. some oiled were poured on gyu's body, yn straddle him and started massaging his torso “i love these tits, so fucking huge” he said while playing with them,groping them, slapping it gently, make them jiggle using his fingers or cuping them both with both his hands. he also pinches the nipples and occasionally kiss them or bite them.

moving onto his arms and abs he just again traced then with his fingers and gave them a quick massage. moving now to the legs yn grabbed each thigh and kissed them “i wish one day you crush my head with these” yn jokes. “not gonna lie that would be pretty hot, watching you squirm between my thighs” mingyu commented and seeing how close yn's ass was against his mouth he just started to suck it.

“now let's resume where we were before” yn slides down a condom with his mouth down mingyu's shaft and ride him. mingyu guided his ass using his big hands “this sloppy ass knows how to take dick so well”.

“you trained it so well” yn replies “fuck, i'm cumming” white sticky ropes were shooted on mingyu's bed sheets while the top came inside the condom still insidd yn moaning and grunting loudly like an animal. fucking with yn was one of the things mingyu enjoyed the most it was sensual and sexual, an undescribable pleasure that only them can give to each other.

mingyu struggle to pulled it out, it seems that he came a lot and the condom got stuck. and as ifni it was some kind of anal beads mingyu pulled it out slowly wanting to see his hole opening and closing with the cum-filled condom.

“so hot” mingyu says kissing one of yn's ass cheeks, let's take a shower.

in the shower they both rubbed and scrubbed each other's bodies, applied shampoo and soap as if they were a couple. “you know i've been thinking something” yn says with some concern in his voice, “what is it?” mingyu asks. “i just.. don't want to ruin the moment gyu…”; “just tell me ynnie it's ok”. “i-i think i'm in … love with you gyu” yn hides his face, tears threatening to roll down his eyes, he was getting ready to be rejected but instead he felt a pair of hands cupping his cheeks and a sweet, delicate kiss meeting his lips, “i love you too, i was planning to tell you later but you got ahead” he laughs showing that pretty smile, “come here give me a kiss”.

yn and mingyu kissed and hugged celebrating their new relationship, one must say they're probably the happiest people on earth right now.

[megvmins]

THE MOST TOUCHSTARVED VS THE MOST TOUCHY BOYS AWARDS

warnings: none, very fluffy

a/n: now i'm only doing the top three as the headcanons could get pretty repetitive but i'll do some headcanons for more characters later in a different post.

touchstarved boys awards

#3 KAJI: I believe he doesn't need that much physical affection overall but most of it stems from him being terrified that he could snap back into his angry self. before hiragi helps him get the hang of it, he avoids you like the plague which in turn makes you feel like he hates your guts but it's the opposite. he cares for you too much to let you see him snap and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he hurt you. but once he gets it under control? he does crave some skinship – holding hands is almost a must but sometimes the guys would tease him and he ends up throwing a hand around your shoulders/waist instead. 

#2 SUGISHITA: he avoids physical affection if it doesn't come from umemiya most of the time but sometimes he kind of misses the warmth of another person. when you start dating he becomes your shadow, stands behind you closer and closer every time until he brings himself to rest his chin on top of your head or shoulder if you are taller. if you point it out he will flush deep red that even sakura would be amazed and immediately lets go. he doesn't want many people in his personal space but you soothe his temper. loves when you hook his pinky finger with yours and swing your hands between you two. 

#1 SAKURA: obviously due to his life up until joining furin he didn't even know there could be physical touch that's good so when he figures it out he finds himself almost hungry for any little bit of physical affection. the hunger only grows with every little brush of your fingers when you walk side by side or playful ruffle of his hair even if you scold him by flicking his forehead he cherishes the warmth of your touch. he definitely won't slip up much in public as his embarrassment would literally make him explode like a volcano but in private? he would become a lot clingier. hugging you tight and not letting go as fast, volunteering his chest for you to sit against when watching a movie or intertwining your fingers with his before he drifts off to sleep with a dopey smile on his face when you're already deep in slumber.  

the most touchy boys awards (under the cut!)

#3 CHOJI: straight up doesn't understand personal space, it's free real estate for him. he pulls you around by your hand everywhere. it's honestly admirable how fast he walks even though he is not that tall but he will slow down for you if you tell him to. something in me tells me he loves head rubs and head pats as praise. loves surprising you with quick pecks on the lips or cheeks because “i just felt like giving you a kiss.” i also believe he moves around a lot during his sleep so only if you literally lock him down with your legs and arms are you safe from getting kicked off the bed or hit in the face when he rolls over.

#2 TSUBAKINO: same as ume, tsubaki is a naturally touchy person, it's part of who he is. in addition to him having the worst cute aggression and absolutely zero self-control about it. if at any point his brain says you look cute he will act on it. if you eat something and it makes you look like a chipmunk he will gush and coo and dab the corners of your lips for you. definitely pulls on your cheeks out of nowhere just to make you talk funny because he finds it adorable. sidehugs, backhugs, welcome home hugs, you-look-so-cute-i-could-eat-you-up hugs you name it he does it. also please please please brush his hair for him with his head on your lap or massage his head like that and he will melt. will do the same for you in a heartbeat.

#1 UMEMIYA: it goes without saying but he won't let a single chance escape him. he offers high-fives to you when something good happens just to intertwine your fingers once your palms touch and pull you in to kiss your forehead. one of his hands is always on you in some way – around your shoulders, on your lower back guiding you through crowds, on your thigh when sitting down to give you gentle reassurance that he's there. he's so clingy that it's weird when he isn't around. you get so used to him in your personal space that when he's not there, you feel a sense of loss – like something is clearly missing and then you see him running up to you like an excited golden retriever to hug you and spin you around and everything feels right again.