#he may sound stupid but not every thing he says is stupid ;)

[galaxyfoxes]

Know this that I am laughing as I write this. Platonic yandere besties Jinshi x reader. Reader is older than him she love to watch him suffer with his own feelings on maomao teasing him and totally not giving him fake advice half the time while the other time actually giving him good advice of the female perspective while sipping of her tea and eating the snacks. While also not realizing how much of a platonic yandere he is for her.

This is hilarious! Thank you for requesting this!

Tw: clingy behavior, mentions of guilt tripping, typical yandere behavior

A/n: I've only watched the anime btw

You and Jinshi have been friends for years, and he tells you practically everything that happens within the inner palace, especially the drama between the Consorts. However, something interesting was being brought up, a certain apothecary girl named maomao.

While you knew he charmed many people, he never got attached to any of them, so you were supportive of him finding someone. Especially if they make him flustered.

However, you also secretly hoped it'll get him off your back for a little while since he has the tendency to be very clingy towards you.

In the past, whenever you voiced your concern about him being too clingy. You were met with immediate guilt tripping or him conveniently 'forgetting' the conversation. And since he is much higher ranked than you, it's not like you can really say no to him.

While you can see some of his more light yandere tendencies, most of them are completely hidden from you as he greatly values how you see him. And you usually write the clingy behavior off as him being weird.

He feels extreme jealousy whenever you talk about other people too much. ESPECIALLY if you consider them a friend. You rarely tell him about these people as they are always fired or gone missing under 'mysterious' circumstances.

For a little while, he was too busy spending time with maomao to visit you. While you missed him, it was nice to have a break for once, even if it's short-lived.

After a particularly long time apart, Jinshi insisted you two have tea as he wanted to ask for advice on something. He wanted to know what he could do to win over maomao.

You were confused as women would kill to have a chance with him and that he wouldn't have to try. but you gave some basic advice on how common people flirt and Jinshi listened diligently. After you were you were done giving advice, Jinshi would go back to talking about other topics with you.

you hoestly expected that he'll leave you alone and focus on maomao. But to your surprise, he quickly goes back to his old behavior.

Eventually, he brings maomao to one of your meetups, and you could tell she wasn't an ordinary girl or all that interested in Jinshi. This gave you an idea to play with Jinshi a little.

You started to give him odd ideas on how to get maomao to like him when they obviously wouldn't. One idea was that Jinshi could give maomao a necklace that had a rather odd pendant, and that would get her to like him.

At first, you thought Jinshi wouldn't listen to you because your ideas sounded rather stupid. But to your surprise, Jinshi listened to every one of them though he did pout and whined to you when they obviously didn't work.

The thing is, you always mixed in good advice with the idiotic advice so Jinshi wouldn't fully dismiss your advice.

maomao may even confront you for the bad advice you have been giving Jinshi and get you to stop.

In all honesty, Jinshi is a rather tame platonic yandere that you can trick and fun with without any form of punishment.

[kathlare]

notes of what it was

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: When a blue notebook, once shared between him and Amelie, is placed in his hands, Lando is overwhelmed by the past, reading through their messages, notes, and inside jokes.

Wordcount: 1.5 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

May 26th, 2022 - Monte Carlo, Monaco

Lando felt like absolute shit. His throat burned, his body ached, and to make things worse, he had barely any voice left. He was back home in Monaco after the Spanish Grand Prix, just a few days away from the most important weekend of the season, and of course, his body decided to betray him.

Luisinha had been taking care of him all day, which he appreciated, but communication had been a struggle. Every time he tried to ask for something, his voice came out in a pathetic whisper, and Luisinha, bless her heart, had no clue what he was trying to say half the time. After the fifth time she misread his lips and thought he wanted "a blanket" instead of "water," she let out a frustrated sigh and sat up.

—This is useless, Lando. You can’t talk, and I can’t read lips. Just write it down.—

She jumped off the bed and ran out of the room, determined to find a notebook. Lando sank further into the pillows, rubbing his forehead. He hated being sick.

A minute later, Luisinha returned, waving a notebook triumphantly.

—Here! Just write down what you need.—

She handed it to him, and the second Lando saw the cover, his heart fucking stopped.

The blue notebook.

His fingers curled around it instinctively, as if Luisinha might take it away before he could react. He knew this notebook. He knew it better than most things in his life. It had started as something simple—just a way for him and Amelie to leave messages for each other when they weren’t home at the same time. "Went to get coffee, be back soon." "At the gym, don’t die without me." But at some point, it had turned into more.

Notes that made their days better. Notes that made them smile. Notes with playful teasing, inside jokes, little doodles of helmets and microphones and things only they would understand. And the kisses. Amelie always kissed the page after writing something sweet, leaving a faint lipstick stain that never faded completely.

His chest tightened as he flipped the notebook open, pretending to be indifferent as he grabbed the pen from Luisinha’s hand.

"Soup?"

He scribbled quickly, forcing himself to keep it casual, keep it normal.

Luisinha, oblivious to the sudden storm in his head, gave him a soft smile.

—Of course. I’ll go grab everything I need. Be back soon.—

She leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead before grabbing her purse and heading out. As soon as the front door clicked shut, Lando exhaled shakily, his grip on the notebook tightening. He knew he shouldn’t. He really fucking shouldn’t.

But his hands moved before his brain could stop them, flipping through the pages.

And there they were.

Her words, her handwriting, her stupid little doodles of cats in race helmets and winking faces. His breath hitched as he saw an old message, one that nearly sent him spiraling.

"I miss you already. I’ll be home soon. Can’t wait to see you. Don’t let anyone take your attention away from me."

Lando swallowed hard, the memories flooding back, sharp and painful, like a raw wound that never fully healed. His thumb ran over the page, lingering on the familiar lipstick stain that always marked Amelie’s words. He could almost hear her voice in his head, teasing him.

Another note caught his eye, and he couldn’t resist reading it aloud in his head, even though the words were years old.

"You look better when you smile, you know. So smile more. I’ll make it worth your while."

Lando laughed quietly to himself, a hollow sound. Fuck, they were good together. The stupid little notes, their stupid little inside jokes, the stupid way they’d always act like they were the only two people in the world when they were around each other. But it wasn’t just the playful teasing that hit him now—it was the fucking depth of it. The comfort of it all. The feeling that, no matter how much shit went wrong, Amelie had always had his back.

And now she was gone. Gone from his life completely. His heart sank a little further into his chest.

He moved on to another note. His handwriting was on it, a scrawl that was unmistakable.

"You don’t need to kiss me goodbye every time, but you do it anyway."

And her response, the note she left after he said that:

"I’ll kiss you goodbye whenever I want, thank you very much."

His heart fucking cracked. He had been such an idiot, hadn’t he? So focused on himself, on whatever stupid pride or insecurity he was dealing with, that he let it all slip away.

But still, he couldn’t deny how good they were together. How right they felt. And now? Now he was here, sick as hell, with another girl taking care of him. Lando tried to shake the thoughts out of his head, but they kept coming back, stronger than ever. He looked at the next page.

It was another note from Amelie, one of the ones where she’d tried to make him laugh after a particularly shit day.

"Let’s get tacos when you feel better. I’ll make sure no one else eats the last one."

He chuckled softly, a pained sound. That damn notebook had been full of everything—moments of humor, moments of longing, moments of simple joy. They had no idea what they were doing at the time, no idea how much they’d mean to each other, how much those stupid little notes would become a part of them. Part of him.

Lando flipped another page, his eyes landing on a note from him to her. The words were clumsy, awkward, but it was clear what he was trying to say.

"I still think you’re the funniest person I know. Don’t let that get to your head."

Lando smirked bitterly, the words bringing him right back to that moment, how nervous and unsure he'd been. He had always been terrible with expressing himself, but he never had to try too hard with Amelie. She had always understood him, even when he was a mess.

His finger traced the words on the page, and for a second, it almost felt like she was right there with him. He could almost hear her laugh, that bright sound that could lift him out of the deepest funks. Fuck, he missed her so much.

The notebook had been their little secret, something just between them. And now, all that was left were these notes. A damn collection of memories that he couldn't shake. Memories of the way she used to tease him, how she would leave him playful little notes to remind him she was thinking about him. But now, all of it felt like a ghost. It stung more than it made him smile.

His eyes scanned the next page, but he didn’t even have to read it. He knew exactly what it was. He could feel the weight of the words before his eyes even landed on them.

"I’ll never let you win at Mario Kart, even if you’re dying."

Lando's chest tightened. That was the last note she left for him. The night before everything fell apart. It was a joke, one of those playful jabs she’d make at him in the middle of their late-night gaming sessions. He could practically see her face—smiling, eyes gleaming with mischief. The last time they were really... good.

He closed the notebook with a sharp exhale, as if the weight of it had become too much to handle in that moment. He’d been an idiot, hadn’t he? He had let everything slip away, thinking he was doing the right thing by pushing her out of his life. And now, look where he was. Sick, alone in his room, with nothing but this damn notebook and the bitter taste of regret filling his mouth.

For a moment, he let his thoughts drift. Maybe he was just being nostalgic. Maybe he was just sick and letting his mind wander to things he couldn’t change. But deep down, he knew—he knew that if he’d handled things differently, if he hadn’t been such a prick, they’d still be here.

He didn’t even know what he wanted anymore. He hated that. He hated feeling like this.

Lando sat in the quiet, the notebook resting on his lap. He had never been good at this. At feelings. At owning up to the shit he’d done wrong. Amelie was gone, and he couldn’t change that. But fuck, he missed her. He missed the way she made everything easier, the way her presence had a way of calming his mind even when everything around them was chaos.

Luisinha’s return broke him out of his thoughts. He quickly shoved the notebook under his pillow, as if it were a forbidden treasure he couldn’t bear anyone else seeing.

She appeared at the door, grocery bags in hand, her smile bright as she stepped into the room.

—I got everything you need for the soup,—she said, setting the bags on the desk. She seemed so cheerful, so oblivious to the storm Lando was still drowning in.

—Thanks,—he croaked, his voice a dry rasp that barely even sounded like him.

Luisinha walked over, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

—You need anything else while I start cooking? I can make some tea too.—

Lando shook his head, forcing a smile, even though it felt like it was stretching his face too thin.

—No. Just... just get me the soup.—

Luisinha nodded, giving him another soft smile before she turned to leave.

As she left, Lando allowed himself a final glance at the notebook. His eyes lingered on the pages he had just read, the words that once held so much meaning now feeling like they belonged to someone else.

But he couldn’t stop himself. Even after all this time, even with everything that had happened, he felt a pang of longing deep in his chest.

God, they had been good together.

And now...

He exhaled sharply and buried the notebook under his pillow, determined to push the memories aside. But he knew, deep down, that they would always be there. Always.

[cerealbishh]

"We get to, this season, explore their chemistry and their real love and their intimacy. So we get to have a glimpse into that world that just feels so pure and beautiful and romantic! And then, sort of navigating those other circumstances once they're out in the world, dealing with real... challenges." - Isa in an interview with The Knockturnal(x)

[goblin-enjoyer]

I swear why are half the things i like/fandoms im in made of mostly younger people while the other half are mostly older people? what are the zoggin odds with that?

How it feels being 20 in a fandom with a bunch of 30-40 somethings.

VS how it feels being 20 in a fandom with a bunch of 14-17 somethings.

like am do i just have extremely odd luck with things i like or is this just what being 20 is like?

[gojosprettyprincess]

HIDE N FUCK?!!

SYNOPSIS - A quick game of hide n seek quickly turns into a nasty game of hide n fuck with your step-brother Megumi

Tw - Prone bone, stepcest, they fuck in the attic, degradation, praising, spiting, dirty talk, creampie, choking, breeding kink, Reader is 19 n Megumi is 21, They aren’t blood related. They got caught :0, they may be some grammar errors!! Please do not interact if this isn’t your cup of tea!! MDNI!! Oh he is Toji’s son alright.

Kinktober List ԅ(°Д°ԅ)

You didn’t think the day would come where you get to relive a cherishable childhood memory of playing one of your favorite games of all time. Playing a game of hide and seek with Megumi and his cousins—a game you never thought you’d play again considering the fact that you were 19 and what people would describe as "too grown" to be playing childish games like that but fortunately, some of Megumi’s family from his dad's side came over for a small family reunion so that’s what led to the evocation.

You sighed in disappointment after finding a well concealed spot to hide in the crowded attic—behind some large boxes in the corner that has been collecting dust for probably years now, just to be raided by Megumi, who joined you.

It was a pretty clandestine hiding spot but now the chances of getting caught has increased even more because it’s been proven to you throughout the years in your childhood that you’ve played the game that you're most likely to get caught quicker if someone else was hiding with you.

But soon enough all those apprehension flew right past your head once you were being fucked hard into oblivion by Megumi— he’s basically mounting you, his larger frame almost crushing your back as you lay on your stomach. Your ass arching up a bit to accommodate the amelioration of the angle. His curved dick sliding in and out of your gushing cunt with ease every time he humps himself into you. His pelvis slapping against the fat of your ass so lewdly, causing the flesh to jiggle like jello against him. Literally, all that could be heard were his loud breathing and occasional groans, your pathetic moaning and babbling a bunch of god knows what, along with the constant sounds of his meaty balls thwacking against your puffy clit—that’s practically wet and dripping with slick. It was actually so fucking nasty how wet you were, coating and drooling all over his cock with your aroused slick as your snugged pussy enveloped his mean cock.

“Fuck you hear how soaked she is for me? Such a little slut. You don’t care what the situation is, you just wanna get your little hole stuffed and fucked like a horny bitch, is that right?” his deep voice rasped against your ear, it was pretty hilarious to you that he was saying that when he was the one groping you from behind and kissing your neck while rubbing his hard bulge into your ass with your skirt hauled up just seconds after he joined you—basically the one to initiate what was happening in the first place. You weren’t even surprised though, Megumi always had a thing for sneaky fucking—An exhibition freak.

You moaned out like brainless slut, placing one of your hands on Megumi’s right hand, which is balled up into a fist to ground himself at the sides of your head. He was so close to you that you could smell the delicious scent of his cologne—sweet and minty, wafting straight into your nostrils, making your mind hazy.

“Gumiii” you whined, feeling your brains getting fucked out that you're just babbling nonsense at the point. “Hmm? What is it baby” he moved his head closer to yours, licking a long stripe on the side of your neck that sent shivers down your spine. "We need to ngh—Hur-ry, or we’ll get cccaught!” You yelped suddenly, biting your lips when you felt two of his lengthy fingers toying with your nipple, tugging and pinching the hard bud.

“Oh yeah? Then I guess you’ll just have to be a good girl f’me and be extra fucking quiet or would you rather let everyone see and hear you getting fucked dumb and stupid by your stepbrother’s cock?” His deep voice whispered in your ear, a tiny smirk plastered on the corner of his face that immediately made your pussy clenched even harder around his girth, Your jaw dropped as his cockhead kissed your cervix, making your eyes roll back in your head. It’s like every time he fucked his cock deeper and deeper into you, your mind goes clumsy and you turn into a brainless zombie.

There’s no way any one couldn’t hear the loud thumping noises and loud moans coming from the attic—there’s no way fucking way but by the way Megumi was being an arrogant lil shit and stretching your little pussy open with his cock so brutally to accommodate his size like this, making you moan uncontrollable as if he wants someone to hear and get caught, he doesn’t seem to give a shit.

“Fuckk wish I could suck on those pretty tits” he murmured as he fondled with your breast, groping and squeezing the soft flesh as you shiver slightly because of his cold hands. He quickly lets go and wraps his big hand over your throat, angling your head to look up at him, a dark glint beaming in his eye with a tiny smirk as he eyed your fucked out face. He watched as your face distorted in pleasure, his thick cock twitching in your pussy knowing that he was the reason for that. You opened your mouth, acquitting a loud pornographic moan, Megumi used that as a perfect opportunity to corrugate his lips, a loud “pff” sound ringing in your ears as you felt a thick substance hitting your tongue. “Swallow it now” he ordered nonchalantly, dark blue eyes piercing into your soul. You did as you were told and swallowed his spit, opening your mouth after to prove it to him.

“Mmm That’s a gooddd girl, fuckk this pussy s’good, imagine if I blow my load inside this pretty cunt and fill you up, bet you’d like that yeah? Wanna give your mom and Toji some snotty little grandkids?” He babbles maniacally in your ear as you go stupid, feeling your orgasm approaching.

He noticed. Hand enthralling harder around your neck as he buckled his hips against you roughly, pulling his thick cock out of you just to bully it right back into your tight hole faster knocking loud whimpers out of you. He quickly lets go of your neck, his hand snaking its way to your sticky clit, using three fingers to sloppily rub circles on it without any type of rhythm, if you weren’t fucked so dumb right now you might’ve actually had a chance to recognize the messy spelling of his name rubbing onto your clit. “Fuckkk—look at this greedy little pussy squeezing my cock like this, you gonna cum? You really gonna make a mess on your step-brothers dick? Fuck you’re suchhh a little slut, baby. He laughed while moaning, feeling your pussy milking his cock for his own release. Fuck he really is considering fucking a baby into you at this point, your pussy was driving him crazy. His eyes rolled to the back of his head so pathetically as you screamed his name, feeling your hole spasming around his length as you squirted on his cock and all over the floor. Wet squelching noises achoing against the thin wooden walls as he fucked the liquid out of you, steams of your pussy juice heaving everywhere.

“Shitt you squirted??Oh fuckfuckfuck, What a dirty bitch” he gritted his teeth, almost losing his mind. Oh he’s trying his best to hold onto the small amount of sanity he has left as his cock molds your hole perfectly, his thick girth sliding into your pussy painfully fast because of your wetness. His mean tip grazing against your g-spot perfectly that it made your toes curl. You can feel literally feel how much his cock was twitching and beating against your fluttery walls, His eyes screwed shut as he emptied his balls into your messy pussy, cum overflowing and pooling everywhere as he shot ropes of his seed into your womb.

“Holy fuckkk yeah you’re definitely hah—carrying my kid, woman” he groaned loudly, stilling himself inside of you for a bit to catch his breathe before picking himself up from your back to rest himself on the back of your thighs, his eyes fixated on the mess between your thighs. He bit his lips, slowly slipping his cock out of you as he watched as your mixed cum leaks out of you. You whined lowly feeling so stuffed full yet so empty at the same time without Megumi’s cock. You body fully collapsed on the floor, you were so fucked out you couldn’t even process anything as he slowly spread your cheeks, getting a better view of your ruined hole before slapping his dick on your cunt, he let it a low “fuck” as your juices splattered on him.

“Such a messy bitch” he muttered with low grunt, Slapping his soaked cock on your cheeks.

“Best little step-sister aren’t ya?” He smirks. About to open his mouth to speak again before the attic door flew open, causing the two of you to jolt unexpectedly—both eyes shooting open toward the source.

“GOT YAA-“ Yuji’s eyes quickly widen, mouth visibly dropped at the lewd scene in front of him. A horrific expression plastered on his face. Oh boy.

[catthestampede]

DC x DP prompt 1 :)



Danny’s been living in Gotham a while now

He didn’t think being a security guard At Arkham asylum would be so boring and so exciting all at once

one hand it’s doing the same thing every day

But on the other hand it’s finding new and tiny little ways to make the jokers life horrible

And he has that little voice at the back of his head sounds suspiciously like his sister talking about not being cruel to the mentally ill

But he has a much better image of all the ghosts talking about how they were killed pointlessly just for a mad man’s laugh and that little voice in the back of his head kind of shuts up

And he may not be allowed to kill him but he can torment him

By purely an honestly convincing him that he can’t escape because of the stupid guard The guy who always loses his keys The guy who forgets his gun and Tayser The Guy who says bagel wrong

The guy who always forgets what day of the week it is and it’s driving the joker insane

And Danny would be laughing at how good of a job he’s doing but he refuses to laugh when it has anything to do with that sadistic clown

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki is pissed the fuck off.

it doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell. whenever he's angry he makes it extremely obvious and most of the time it becomes everyone's problem. but it's weird to you because he was fine like, 5 seconds ago.

until 5 seconds ago he'd gotten back from buying groceries for the class and kissed you on the forehead as a greeting. he'd even brought the oranges you'd begged him to get last minute because you'd randomly been craving them, even after saying he wouldn't (but you both knew he would.)

but now he's pissed, and you have no idea why.

he's not saying anything either, but he keeps huffing and clicking his tongue every once in a while, fist pressed hard against his cheek and his jaw locked tightly chewing on the little piece of the own orange he'd been eating and finished a bit ago.

you keep munching on your piece of orange as you stare at him, and then you poke at his cheek. he grunts, shooing your hand away and leaning away from you.

"what's got you so grouchy ?" you tilt your head with a raised brow, he scoffs. readjusting his leg on the couch. you fight the urge to roll your eyes. he's ignoring you now ?

"katsuki."

silence.

"katsukiii-"

"it's nothin'." he growls, huffing through his nose.

this time you do roll your eyes "sure, that's why you're being all cranky." slowly, you inch towards his spot on the couch where he'd secluded himself away. he hasn't left the room and he doesn't react to you getting closer besides a slight side eye, so you know he's probably just being dramatic.

his nose scrunches up at your wording and he pretends he doesn't notice you lifting his arm up to lay in them. he doesn't comment on how he almost immediately changes his position to make you more comfortable.

"m'not cranky." he spits, eyebrows contorting and a pout settles onto his face "not a baby."

could've fooled me you think, but you decide against actually saying it. you're smile widens when his eyes narrow once he meets yours, he pinches your side "quit starin' at me."

"katsukiii. what's got your panties in a bunch ?" you coo and katsuki gives you the most repulsed look you've ever seen him make.

"don't ever say that ever again, i'm so fucking serious." he groans at your giggling, leaning his head away and shoving his palm in your face to get away from you like he couldn't just leave the room instead of actively pulling you closer to him. really, could've fooled you.

"ya didn't let me peel yer orange for you.." he mumbles grumpily.

you blink up at him "..what ?"

eyebrows furrowing just at the memory, he continues "was gone for three seconds to put away the damn groceries an' here you go, prancing around me, throwin' your peel away in the trash right in front of me."

oh, wow.

"katsuki. really ?"

"you know i always do it for you. yn." he sasses.

"that's why you were so mad at me ?" your giggles muffled by him pressing your head into his shoulder in a headlock.

"you were busy !" you fight weakly.

"so ? if you've got shit to do you come to me, i woulda done it in two seconds. peeling oranges doesn't take that long, dummy."

you keep giggling as you try to fight him off before you hear him snort and he releases you.

as stupid as it may sound, katsuki isn't the best when it comes to letting his affection be known through words, so you know how much acts of services, as small as they are, mean to him.

you sometimes forget how much he loves to do little things for you. throwing away your little candy wrappers, or already unwrapping your ice cream for you. or absentmindedly fixing up and sorting out your desk, or bookshelf when he sees your manga out of order or sticking out too much. the little ways he cares for you make your heart flutter. you smile up at him and offer him a piece of orange. he scowls at it.

"don't want your stupid orange." he mutters childishly, but you don't have enough time to pull away to eat it yourself before he grips your wrist. bringing it up to his mouth to eat it anyway. you roll your eyes with a fond smile.

"i'll be sure to leave the orange peeling to you from now on." you jest. he grunts in approval, softly chewing on the slice of juicy orange before patting your wrists, signalling he wants more. and you snort, but you still hand him another piece. his warm grip on your wrist remains even though he could very well just take it out of your hands. he hums again when the taste kicks in.

"you better, i mean it. otherwise it's your funeral."

thank my lovely lovely moot @kovu-bunnbunn for this lovely idea ! tysm twin ! :3

[mariasont]

A Puddle in Running Shoes A.H.

summary: your boyfriend finds out you have a praise kink and is having way too much fun with that information

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: some suggestive content, hotch being a menace, reader having a praise kink, end suggests something may happen but nothing explicit in this one folks im getting my libido under control swear, also count how many times r refers to hotch's face as stupid im crying

wc: 1.9k

You hated running. No—loathed it. Detested it. Despised it with every fiber of your being. If there was a stronger word, one that captured the burning, irrational rage you felt whenever someone suggested going for a jog, Spencer might have known it, but you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to ask. Simply put, running was not your thing.

But when Aaron—your boyfriend and somehow the most persistent man alive—asked you to join you on a run, you couldn't exactly say no. He didn't beg—Aaron Hotchner did not beg—but his version of asking, that soft it'd mean a lot to me paired with an encouraging smile, was close enough to begging in your book. Besides, you figured there'd be some sort of reward when you got back home. Aaron was good at those.

So here you were, contributing absolutely nothing to your marathon-obsessed, fitness-loving FBI boyfriend's training. Sweat coated every inch of your body, your legs felt like lead, and your lungs burned with every ragged breath you managed to suck in. The sun blazed overhead, making you feel more like a roasting chicken than a willing participant in this so-called fun activity.

Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he'd stepped out of a fitness ad—shirt clinging to him in ways that felt outright scandalous. Even the sweat on his face somehow made him look even more attractive.

He was at least ten paces ahead of you and every few steps, he'd glance over his shoulder, probably checking to make sure you hadn't spontaneously combusted or snuck off to find an air-conditioned cafe. Honestly, both were real possibilities.

Aaron's pace slowed until he was running beside you, throwing you a smile so unfairly handsome it made your legs feel weaker than they already did.

"How are you feeling?" The question felt retorical—anyone, profiler or not, was sure to be able to read you like an open book right now. "Still alive, or do I need to start figuring out the best way to carry you home without breaking any traffic laws?"

"I think I'm alive," you managed between gasps, wiping sweat from your brow. "But if carrying me is on the table, I'm not above playing dead to make that happen."

"Not necessary—I'd carry you anyway, if only to reward you for keeping up this long. You're doing great."

You foot caught a crack in the pavement, nearly hurling yourself into it, but Aaron's hand was there quicker keeping you upright as you tried to ignore the terrifying way your body had reacted to his compliment.

"Okay you can't just say stuff like that while I'm trying to run," you blurted out, avoiding his gaze. "You're trying to kill me, I swear."

You planted your hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath, secretly relieved to have a break—even if it almost involved a face-first meeting with the sidewalk.

"Stuff like what?" He tugged at your ponytail and you swatted his hand.

"Nothing," you said way too quickly, shaking your head like you could physically toss what you said aside. "Forget I said anything. Let's just... keep running."

You quickly realized your mistake as soon as you started jogging again. You would never willingly suggest to keep running. Unfortunately, Aaron was actively aware of this, moving to come up beside you. You didn't need to look at him to know he had the stupidest smirk on his face.

He didn't say anything at first, to your immediate relief, just kept jogging beside you. The silence stretched on, his calm breathing only seeming to make your wheezing sound worse.

"You're breathing too shallow," he said after a moment, his tone completely casual like he wasn't even winded. "Try to take deeper breaths—match them to your strides. It'll make it easier."

You glanced towards him out of the corner of your eye before attempting his suggestion. You had no intention of letting him know that it worked. His ego was far too substantial for that.

"See? You're a natural," he said, shooting you a sidelong glance. "Atta girl."

Your brain flatlined and you almost tripped over your feet again, every rational thought replaced by static. What was wrong with you? You vaguely remembered reading somewhere that people with unresolved daddy issues were prone to developing praise kinks. Was that what this was? Whatever the reason, hearing Aaron talk like that shouldn't make you feel all gooey inside, but here you were, a puddle in running shoes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yup, fine!"

You stared at the ground so intensely, it was a miracle you didn't bore a hole into the pavement. Your voice had betrayed you, far too shaky and way too rushed, and you knew Aaron was probably filing away every bit of your reaction.

"Hey," he said softly, his hand brushing against the back of your neck as he spoke. "Stop staring at the ground. You'll run better if you keep your head up—it'll open your chest so you can breathe easier."

His hand lingered for a second too long than what your body could handle, leaving you completely flustered and fighting every urge to do exactly the opposite of what he said.

"There you go," he murmured, a small, approving smile tugging at his lips. "That's good, honey. Just like that."

His voice—his god forsaken voice—was like a jolt to your system, and not in a good way. Or maybe it was a good way, which was the problem. It was bad enough to hearing it out here, on the jogging trail, but your brain decided to replay it in an entirely different inappropriate context: one that involved you, him, and a bed.

Your face burned, and you couldn't tell if it was from the exertion, or the very real possibility that your body was too receptive to those words. And now, not only were you fighting for every breath, but you were trying to figure out if the dampness between your legs was entirely from sweat. Surely it was sweat. Right? Gods, you hoped it was sweat.

You stopped so suddenly that Aaron jogged a few steps ahead before he realized you were not longer beside him.

"Okay, I'm calling it. I'm done. Can we please go home now?"

He jogged back to you, an easy smile on his face, and placed his hands on your shoulders as he reached you.

"Alright, we can be done," he teased, thumbs brushing lightly over your collarbones. "You survived, and you did great. I'm proud of you."

He leaned down then, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips that made the ache in your body a little easier to ignore.

When he pulled away, you barely managed to keep standing.

Aaron let out a low laugh, his hands squeezing your shoulders. "Alright. What's going on? What's wrong with you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said over your shoulder, practically power walking towards the car.

Aaron's laugh deepened and you ignored the funny feeling curling in your chest.

"Sweetheart," he said, gently tugging your elbow to slow you down. "Come on, talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about, I'm fine!" You avoided his eyes as you tugged your elbow free. "I'm just tired, and, uh, need a shower."

A cold shower, your brain screamed, but you shoved the thought down.

"I know, I know you're tired," he said, lips curving into a smile, "but that's because you actually pushed yourself. I'm proud of you for sticking with it."

You were pretty convinced you were you were about to go up in flames. Your obituary would read death by too many unnecessary compliments. When your heart inevitably gave out, Aaron would have to explain to Rossi and the others how his dumb smile and sweet words had resulted in second degree manslaughter.

But then you saw it—the smirk. The one that said he absolutely knew what he was doing.

"Oh my gosh, you know!" You groaned and threw your hands in the air. "You know, and you're enjoying this!"

Spinning away from him, you stormed to the car, and slammed the door like it might shield you from his stupidly smug face.

You barely had time to exhale before the passenger door swung open, revealing Aaron, casually leaning against the car.

"You know," he said lightly, his tone far too casual for your liking, "slamming car doors isn't a great habit. You could hurt yourself."

"And you know," you snapped back, pointing at him, "torturing your girlfriend isn't a great habit either!"

He leaned in slowly, his fingers brushing against your shoulder as he grabbed your seatbelt. As he clicked it into place, his face lingered close to yours.

"I wasn't trying to torture you, baby. Just wanted to give you the chance to admit it—that you liked it."

Before you could muster a reply, Aaron's hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb moving along your cheek. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was so deep, leaving you no choice but to sink into it, even as the faint remnants of your annoyance tried to surface.

By the time he pulled back, you felt like you were under his spell. Then, without another word, he shut your door and headed to the driver's side.

"That's not fair," you muttered, crossing your arms and pouting as you stared out the window.

Aaron's hand found the back of your neck as he backed out of the parking spot, rubbing gently into smooth circles.

"I don't mean to be unfair," he said with a small smile. "I just needed to hear it, because sometimes people don't even realize what they need until they say it out loud. And I wanted to make sure I didn't misread anything—though I'm rarely wrong, as you know."

"Trust me, you remind me every chance you get." Your tone was dry, but you were well aware that the twitch in your lip was giving you away.

"Alright, smartass," he said, chuckling as his fingers pressed a little firmer into your neck. "Now tell me—how does it make you feel when I say those things to you?"

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "I don't know, okay? I just... like it! Do I have to explain it?"

"You don't have to explain it if you don't want to," he said, "but I'd like to know what it is you like so much."

Aaron's hand moved from your neck to your hand, his fingers sliding between each of yours while his eyes stayed glued to the road, a thing that only came from months of familiar motions.

You let out a long breath. "I don't know. I just like hearing it. It makes me feel good. Special, I guess."

"You are special, sweetheart." His eyes flicked to you before returning to the road. "You're my best girl."

Your stomach flipped violently. You shifted again, trying to disguise the way your thighs pressed together tightly as your face burned hotter than ever. The debate earlier in your head was officially over—absolutely not just sweat, you thought miserably.

Aaron let out a soft chuckle, fingers brushing over your knuckles. "Something I said?"

You swatted his shoulder, your glare losing all its bite thanks to the flush all over your body. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"I can't help it," he murmured, voice dipping just enough to get you on edge. "But don't worry—I'll take care of my best girl once we're home."

You slumped in your seat, muttering something unintelligible that made Aaron chuckle again. And even though you wouldn't admit it, you found yourself smiling, already dreading and anticipating whatever he had planned when you got home.

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[yumeboshi]

𝜗𝜚。．．❛ #02. XXX!

𐙚 topic。．hcs of random things that turn on hsr men

．。𝜗𝜚 cw。suggestive content, i wrote this with no brain, MINORS DNI

．。𝜗𝜚 a/n。aven, sunday, and blade. I wanna write for my bootyhill but i need to study him more to get a grip of him lol

#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE ⇢ rebuking his argument in a fight

。i js know he would go crazy when you do this 。he’d find people who just agree with him as boring. To him it may look even insincere 。but you? countering his smartly crafted arguments with irresistible logic with your pretty brain, glaring at him as you do with those adorable eyes? 。this man would go from being mad to being horny. tbh he would have probably already been horny in the argument 。nobody can be more masochistic than he is

“ARE YOU STUPID?” You glare at your boyfriend who looks nonchalant as he idly examines the coin between his fingers. “Fucking look at me. Do you know what happens when you join forces with them? You’re just risking the IPC and it will eventually lead to your unfortunate befall.”

You continue barreling on furiously with concrete points. Every time you prove him wrong, his eyes dance and he tries his hardest to bite back the grin that plays at his lips as you rant on. You are so perfect, he thinks- he is nonetheless impressed at you, your wondrous little brain. Something snaps inside of him when he sees you focused on derailing his points, your lips moving quickly to spit out syllables. He feels a loud moan caught in his throat.

“I get it, I’m sorry, princess, I won’t do it.” he suddenly surrenders and you eye him suspiciously as he advances, hands sneaking up to your back. “Let’s talk this out in bed, ‘m gonna apologize to you there.” He says softly, giving you lovely kisses along your neck but the way his fingers dig into your skin lets you know he’s not going to wait any longer.

And you will be confused as hell, because although you did win the argument, you feel like you just lost something else, a hidden little game he never taught you the rules to.

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY ⇢ whipped cream on your lips

。hear me out… i have a gut feeling he likes it a little too much 。ik it’s totally random but he will go nuts when he sees you bite down a particularly creamy cake that promptly smears its remains over your mouth- he tries to think of something more dignified, but he just can’t. His poor brain keeps returning to the most vulgar visuals of you. 。he will always point out whatever you had near your mouth when you two eat, because he’s such a clean freak, but anything with cream, specifically white whipped cream, he will be unable to comment on it and fall weirdly silent to he point you are confused why you not hear his scolding to wipe your mouth. 。he’ll just watch you eat dessert with a smile on your face as you savor the taste innocently. Unfortunately his brain is not, and he will start to feel his cock struggle under the fabric. 。”you have cream over your mouth, sweetheart. should i clean it for you?” he’ll sound restrained, like he’s being choked but his expression doesn’t waver. 。and after he found out his new obsession, he will literally only buy you huge whipped cream cakes for dessert.

“THE CAKE HERE IS SO GOOD.” You savor the taste happily and dig into the whipped cream cake and eat without much care. “Where’s it from?”

Sunday is too busy staring at you to register that. The creamy ring around your pink lips. It bothers him in a bad way. It’s making him feel like he is out of breath. His wings flicker wildly like a cooling fan, trying to blow off the heat that suddenly started to build inside his stomach like a raging primal flame that’s trapped by his own conscience.

You tap his shoulder gently and he snaps back to reality and tries to stare at your eyes instead, yes, lovely eyes, he thinks- your words phase in and out as he gulps, darting his eyes back to the cake.

“…the brand? The cake brand?” You ask again, frowning at his silence.

“Ah, yes, sorry, sweetheart. I was thinking of something else for a moment.” He breathlessly apologizes, the words spilling out a little too quickly like an excuse that makes your frown deepen in confusion— he closes his eyes and opens them again so the heat will ebb away. But his plans are obliterated when you take a portion of the cake and eat it, all while looking at him in the eye with curious doe eyes.

That’s when he can’t restrain himself anymore. He suddenly seizes your chin with his gloved hand, making you squeal in surprise when he practically devours your lips, licking up the cream residue around them roughly before shoving it inside your mouth with his tongue. The sweet cream melts when it gets to your mouth, mixing with his saliva that dips down your chin to make messy thick lines.

“It was from a shop at Golden Hour. I hope you like the taste,” he’d say as if he didn’t just feast on your mouth like a starved beast. “Me personally, i think it’s a tad too sweet.”

#BྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིLADE ⇢ treating his wounds

。it’s ironic because Blade doesn’t want to be healed at all 。but how could he refuse you you’re frantically at his door with an emergency kit, worry written all over you- you are like a cute puppy that keeps following him around. 。he lets you do it reluctantly at first, grumbling about it inwardly 。but when you lift up his shirt with no hesitation to put gauze to soak in the blood, his muscles tense visibly, when your touch ghosts over his skin like tiny little lilies blooming in their wake. 。what have you done to him? He feels nothing but tension and something he didn’t want to register, something a little too pleasant to him. 。and at some point he will actually look forward to having his would treated by you. He still likes pain, but he likes your touch drifting over his bruised skin like an innocent butterfly way more.

“DOES IT HURT?” You softly pat the ointment around another fresh scar on his broad chest. It pains you to see that most of the scars are near his heart. You sigh like a worried mother. “You worry me.”

“I enjoy it,” he grunts in response, but his brain ran a quick recap. Enjoy what? The pain? Or your smooth touch?

“Stay still,” you say, and he does, as you carefully squeeze in another ointment into an ugly looking scar. His eyes never leave you the whole time, his muscles tense at the pain but otherwise he’s relaxed. His intimidating stare makes you scared a little, considering this mysterious man didn’t speak his mind often.

“I think that’s it,” you say, quickly trying to lower Blade’s shirt back- but the man grabs your wrist mid-action. You jump, confused. His eyes are unreadable but he states, “You’re not done.”

you frown in puzzlement. “I double-checked, im pretty sure I didn’t miss a spot.”

He lifts his shirt up and with his bandaged finger, cuts open the scar you just treated for him, making it ooze another layer of fresh blood around the dried wound. His lips form a rare smirk as he looks at your wide-eyed stare.

“There, you have a new wound to work on.”

He will do that until you are out of ointment, and the next day he will come visit you first this time with another set of fresh scars.

[r1elle]

“no use crying over spilled milk.” —except, there probably is.

a. miya x reader

atsumu knows he’s messed up.

he thinks he may need to leave all that he’s accomplished in his lifetime — all because of a simple, but dire mistake.

“this can’t be happenin..” the blonde murmurs, looking at the monstrosity infront of him.

spilled vegetable smoothie. on three dozens of cooling cookies. that you’ve excitedly made. for your friends and family. as gifts.

atsumu was definitely crying over this ‘spilled milk’.

brushing off the fear of getting divorced on Christmas Eve, atsumu decides to think of how he can remove any remaining evidence.

he thinks that perhaps he can just bake the cookies again, —but argh, he silently curses osamu for taking the culinary skills.

the blonde scrambles around, scurrying to every part of the kitchen to at least try and scrape some of the green-kelpy smoothie bits on your cookies.

the opening of the front door was the only thing that could make him drop whatever he was doing.

“atsumu!~ do you think you can help me with the groceries? i ended up going a little overboard, so i bought some hot coco and chocolate fondue as something to go with the cookies! and—“ you ramble on, however atsumu could only feel the lump forming in his throat, the sweat on his forehead, and the drying of his lips.

he’d rather experience losing a volleyball match right now.

but unfortunately, the sweating of his palms wasn’t going to help him cover his crime scene— with you finally walking up to him with a questionable tone and all.

on some lame attempt to delay your discovery by even a fraction of a second, atsumu lays a cloth on top of your pastries.

“hey, something the matt—……er…?”

you pause in between your words, familiar with atsumu’s current expression. your husband is wearing the exact face he made the last time he realized he’d accidentally mistaken your diy project as trash and threw it out. (valentines almost ended off with him sleeping on the couch.)

his face could only mean one thing, then.

however, distracting you from the overly guilty look on his face was the unusual placement of the rag that you had bought not long ago.

you look at the cookies.

he looks at you.

you look at him.

he looks at the cookies.

you lift the rag.

green, protein-y, vegetable smoothie mix laid on top of your thick, chocolate chipped cookies.

“miya.”

despite the fact that you both now share the same last name— atsumu knows you talk of his last name.

he fears that you may end up going back to your own after this night passes.

“baby please, i— i didn’t…” he rambles, but knows that no excuse can save him from his actions. he pinches the bridge of his nose. “…im…i’m sorry, hon. i’ve got no excuse. i was bein’ careless, and yer’ cookies are all damped because of my stupidity. i’m sorry. what can i do? hm?”

his build envelopes yours, and suddenly you find a man nearing his 30s senselessly murmuring sweet nothings to your ear, hoping that perhaps a single saying can be of the slightest comfort to your disappointment.

the room quiets down, the sound of the ventilation being the only source bearing noise.

the silence only makes atsumu antsy, who begins to lose hope of your anger easing down any time soon.

and so, he decides to call it a night.

“i’ll take the couch tonight, hm? how’s that? i know that it’s nothin’ much…”

a grin.

“…but if it’ll help you in even the slightest way, i’m more than willing to do it—”

a stifle of laughter.

atsumu paused, thinking that the (familiar) sound he’d just heard was some sort of hallucination that his mind had made up on the spot.

“a-anyway, i’ll see what i can do soon, and—“

finally releasing any ounce of self control you had, bursts of laughter start leaving your mouth.

“oh— oh, oh my gosh, i…” your unexplained cackling begins to alter the solemn look on your husbands face into one of confusion.

“you just looked so pathetic— it was cute! i’m sorry, i’m sorry..” you manage to hide in a snort, your husbands eyes following every movement you made.

why were you laughing? was he getting divorced?! is this some sick way to break it to him? no…no??! you’ve both been through so much together, you couldn’t possibly—… but then again… he’s probably put you through so much! argh! is this what osamu meant when he said—

atsumu’s disorganized internal thoughts then get interrupted by your pecks, something that’s been able to melt him since your last year of highschool.

“i’m not mad, no.. no,” you smile, a little giggle sneaking out. “i just couldn’t help but see how you’d react if i looked mad! i’m sorry baby, forgive me?” you coo, your head lifting up to meet his eyes as you sway his tall figure.

“but… i.. yer not mad? i completely trashed the cookies, babe. look!—

“i may or may not have accidentally mixed the salt up for sugar.” you say, a playful smile greeting your lips. “haven’t told you about the cookies i just bought from the store.”

as if all his worries had come to an end, atsumu’s shoulders slump down, a sigh coming out of him.

“ya couldn’t just tell me all that in the beginnin’?”

“and miss seeing you all so guilty and pouty? what am i, insane?”

“be happy i love ya’.”

“need i remind you of last valentines, then?”

“why don’t we get set up? also, yer’ lookin’ beautiful in that dress. anyone told you that yet?”

“okay, you can stop that now, miya.”

“yer’ a miya too, ya know.” he grins.

you roll your eyes, however a smile creeps it’s way in, betraying your ‘dismay’ towards the man.

“you’re right. i suppose i am.”

this was from the request of an oomf !

can we just pretend this was posted before Christmas thank u very muchiez

i fear that the pathetic husband atsumu will never become a trope i’ll get tired of

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone !

ps. if you start seeing that i lowkey started to get confused as to how to write that lil accent he has, no u didn’t.

[suguae]

something stupid

Hai my cuties! This is super short I'm so sorry, I've been so tired but I wanted to upload something for you all!

Toji Zenin x Fem! Reader, slight mention of Nanami Kento x Fem! Reader

He cheated on you.

He cheated on you while you were holding his child.

He cheated on you during the times you needed him the most.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized but his face, his eyes, his tone. It showed that he didn’t care, not an ounce of sympathy.

You left him for the better. You tried planning on how co-parenting could work out when Mai gets older. But of course he didn’t help.

Now that Mai was old enough for Toji to take, you’d see a new woman every week. “I don’t want my daughter to grow up in an environment like that Toji.” You confessed to which he didn’t care.

“I’m serious with her. So you don’t have to be worried about Mai.” He confessed as you’ve seen the same woman at his house for a couple weeks now. It hurt, it hurt to see him move on. It hurt to see him with new woman every week. It hurt when he cheated on you.

It also hurt him. It hurt him when he saw a blonde, tall, muscular man carrying his little Mai as you were getting her bag ready. “I didn’t think you were gonna come.” You say rushing to get her things ready for him.

Toji glared at the man as he grabbed Mai from him. “Toji, the father of her kid.” He greeted but it wasn’t very greeting. “I know—I’m Nanami, Her boyfriend.” Toji clenched his jaw. This man was no joke. He didn’t expect for Nanami to sound so serious.

“Papa!” Mai babbles as she plays with Toji’s hair. He looked so unserious compared to Nanami. “Here I made sure everything was in there. If you need anything me and Nanami could always stop by.” You smiled. You smiled at Toji? A smile he hasn’t seen since.

Toji stalked your account that night. Then he stalked Nanami’s account. Business man. Rich? Fit? And his profile only contained pictures of you and him.

He watched Mai sleep peacefully that night. Mai was just as beautiful as you. Lazy as Toji of course.

Toji left the woman he claimed he was getting serious with. He got with her to spite you but now it’s not so funny when you did it. Not on purpose of course because you were never bitter to Toji, even after all he’d done.

Toji’s ears perked up at the distinct giggles of his daughter and you. He looked up from the aisle in the grocery store to see you, Nanami and Mai all together. Even if Mai didn’t look relatively related to Nanami, they still looked like a happy family. A happy family that Toji could’ve cherished if he wasn’t so stupid.

[reocidal]

help! we're getting married!? — k. tsukishima

cws; gn!reader, swearing, kissing, sleeping in one bed NO SUS possible ooc and not proofread.

wc; 1227

"do you want to get married?"

you blink, thinking you may have misheard.

"do you want to get married?" he repeats. "to me."

what. you stare at the plate in your hands, dumbfounded. in no way are you prepared for this — today's just a normal saturday night. you're bent over the dishwasher, in your PJs and your old frayed slides. your sweaty hair sticks to your damp forehead, and your hands are covered in grease and soap.

tsukishima is at the table, doing taxes. he's not dressed for any particular occasion, in a loose white button-up and dark coloured slacks. neither of you are in any position for a proposal; his lunch is still half-eaten on the table, and you're both tired and sweaty, and neither of you are dressed well enough for this. but most importantly, you arent even dating!

he pushes his glasses up with a finger, staring at you with his usual lack of emotion. "do you have any hearing problems i haven't heard about?"

"no? are you joking?"

'do i look like i'm joking?" he retorts.

"no, but—"

"there you go, got your answer, didn't you?"

"we arent even dating!" you protest

"yeah?" he says, leaning back and stretching his arms out. "we don't need to."

"fuck's that supposed to mean?" you demand. you're washing your hands now, back turned to him. even though his steps were light, unheard over the sound of splashing water, you still noticed his shadow looming over you. you turn around, exasperated. "what?"

"just give it some thought," he says, and he sounds normal, but there's a weird tension in the air. you know he's aware of it, though, because he pushes his glasses up even though they don't need to be, and runs his hands through his hair, rolling his shoulders back.

it's half past one in the morning, and you stare blankly at the television, feet on kei's lap. he's on the other side of the couch, scrolling on his phone with one hand. the other hand rests on your ankle, thumb brushing the skin gently every now and then. the question hangs heavy in the air between the two of you, until—

"yes," you blurt.

"hmm?" he looks up, putting his phone down. "what was that?"

"yes, i'll marry you." it's stupid, you're stupid to be saying yes to something as life-changing as this, just because of a stupid years-long crush-infatuation thing that you've harboured for him until now.

he nods, businesslike, and you swear you can see the slightest trace of a smile on his lips. "okay."

"why, though?" you ask. "is it like a marriage of convenience? i mean, it's not like you're into me or anything, are you?"

he rips his eyes away from yours abruptly, looking away. but the blush that spreads across his face like wildfire gives you the answer you needed — although it's definitely not what you'd expected. and suddenly you realise that kei tsukishima doesn't remember his other friends' coffee orders or let them put their feet on his lap. he doesn't pin their contacts to the top of the list, doesn't carry them to bed, doesn't pack lunch for them like he does for you. he isn't the kind of guy to show physical affection to anyone — yet you still recall the gentle, loving brush of his knuckles against your cheekbone just a few nights ago, when he'd settled you into your bed. speaking of beds, he doesn't let his other friends sleep in his bed, and he definitely doesn't hold them either, the way he holds you. a small spark of hope rises within you; with it, the flame of attraction and want that you've religiously kept suppressed all these years comes back to life.

"wait, do you?" your voice is half-serious, half-teasing as you yank your legs away from his lap, getting up to advance upon him on your knees instead. except, just before you reach him, you stumble and fall.

kei catches you smoothly, transferring you onto his lap with an effortless grace that is befitting of a 6'5" middle blocker. meanwhile, your hands shoot out to clutch at his shoulders.

"careful," he murmurs, steadying you, hands on your hips. his face — as usual — betrays no emotion, but his leg bounces up and down anxiously beneath you, and his thumb works feverish circles into your hipbone. "you'll hurt yourself."

although grateful for his concern, you acknowledge it with barely a nod, focused on the question you'd asked before. "do you?"

his lips press into a thin line, brows furrowing ever so slightly. "and if i do? what then, will you hate me?"

you laugh, a sound filled with euphoria, joy. "of course not, silly!"

realisation dawns upon his face. "then do you...?"

you nod as he trails off. he doesn't have to finish what he's saying got you to understand; the two of you have always been good at this mutual-understanding-nonverbal-communication thing, after all. he readjusts you on his lap, and you daringly let your hands fall off his shoulders in favour of fisting the material of his shirt instead. "what do you propose we do?"

"i think i have an idea," he replies easily, cradling your face with one large hand. the tips of his fingers thread into your hair, and he angles your head upwards. you can see the lightest smattering of pink dusting his cheeks, and he swallows harshly as your eyes meet his. "that is, if you'll let me."

"yeah?" you ask.

"yeah," he replies hoarsely.

you're not sure who initiates, but a second later, you're kissing him fervently — you're kissing kei tsukishima, and he's reciprocating, too. you can smell the mint from the toothpaste he's used for about ten years now — it's oddly nostalgic compared to the unfamiliar territory you're currently treading with him. he lets you take the lead, leaning back lazily, and only pauses to push his fogged up glasses to his forehead. when you pull away, he's grinning down at you lazily.

"yeah," he repeats.

you swat at his chest, flushing, and he catches your wrists, pulling you in so you collapse into his arms, and holy fuck, the two of you fit together perfectly. "so is that a yes?"

"yeah—" you cut yourself off with a huge yawn, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. there's a different kind of affection in his eyes now as he takes in the vision of you melted into him, and he takes a moment to immortalise it in his brain. "sleepy?"

you nod, eyelids heavy, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. "thank you. go to sleep, i'll take you to bed."

"whose bed?" you snicker. "yours?"

it all backfires when you wake up much later than intended, kei still wrapped around you. all you'd wanted to do was make fun of him — but now he says he can't sleep without you ever again.

"let me go!"

"it's your fuckin' fault, go back to sleep."

BONUS BECAUSE ILYGS

"so what you mean to say is, you were secretly dating?" asks yamaguchi.

"no, the fuck?"

"but you were dating, right?"

"no, we weren't."

"how does that even work?"

"don't know, don't care. we're married and that's all that matters."

maybe he's hallucinating when he sees tsukishima on the phone, a huge, dopey smile on his face as he talks.

fuckin hate my english teacher she dont know what english is so i wrote this in my english class and answered all her questions too without paying attention cuz im cool like that. also i have a general taglist now so send an ask if you want in

also tysm @mitskicain s parents for the inspiration ☝️😎

@akaakeis + @smiithys

[littlelamy]

crossing a line; rafe x reader

you never really thought much about it at first. the way rafe's lips seemed to always find some part of you to latch onto. it started small, just little things. a quick bite on your finger when you two were play-fighting over some stupid thing, or a lazy kiss on your neck when he was feeling especially playful, always careful to make it seem like nothing more than harmless teasing. but you weren’t stupid. you saw the way his eyes would linger on you, how his touch seemed to grow bolder over time.

there was always tension, an unspoken connection that no one else seemed to pick up on, not even his girlfriend, sofia. you weren't sure if it was because she trusted him too much or because rafe was just good at hiding things, but the truth was you could feel it. the pull between you two. the way his fingers would skim down your arm whenever you were sitting too close, or how his eyes would flick down to your lips when he thought you weren't paying attention.

maybe it should’ve bothered you more. maybe you should’ve stopped him that night a few weeks ago, when he’d gotten drunk at that party and found his way into your lap, sucking on your fingers like it was nothing. he'd laughed it off when you asked him what the hell he was doing, slurring something about you tasting sweet. but it didn’t stop there. it never did with rafe.

he always had to push things.

so here you were again, at the cameron’s place, lounging on the couch while rafe sat beside you, too close as usual. his thigh pressed against yours, and you could feel the heat of his body seeping into your skin. his arm draped lazily along the back of the couch, fingers brushing your shoulder every now and then. you'd told yourself that it didn’t mean anything, that it was just rafe being rafe. except now, his hand was slipping lower, thumb grazing the bare skin of your collarbone, dangerously close to the strap of your tank top.

“what the are you doing, rafe?” you muttered, glancing up at him, your voice low enough that no one else in the room could hear.

he grinned, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that cocky way that always made you roll your eyes. but this time, it was different. his eyes were darker, pupils blown wide as he leaned in just a little closer, his lips barely brushing your ear as he whispered, “what? can’t a guy just enjoy a little skin?”

you swallowed hard, heat flushing through you despite yourself. it wasn’t like this was new territory. you’d felt this before. the tension, the way rafe always seemed to toe the line between playful and something more. but now, it felt more intense. more dangerous.

“sofia’s in the next room,” you hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention.

“so?” he drawled, his fingers tracing the edge of your tank top, just barely slipping under the thin fabric. “she doesn’t have to know.”

you hated how much you wanted this. how much you craved his touch, even though you knew it was wrong. every nerve in your body was on edge, and you found yourself holding your breath as his lips ghosted over your neck, teasing the skin there. his tongue darted out, just barely brushing the sensitive spot under your ear before he pulled back, eyes locked on yours.

“rafe…” you trailed off, unsure of what to even say.

he didn’t give you time to think. instead, his hand slid lower, fingers wrapping around your wrist before lifting your hand to his lips. you watched, breath caught in your throat as he slowly took one of your fingers into his mouth, sucking gently. his tongue swirled around the tip, eyes never leaving yours. it was slow, deliberate, and it sent a wave of heat straight through you.

“you always taste so fucking good,” he murmured, his voice rough, vibrating against your skin.

you shuddered, biting your lip to keep from making any sound. it was too much, and you knew it. you couldn’t keep doing this. sofia may have been oblivious, but you weren’t, and the guilt was starting to claw at the edges of your mind. but at the same time, you couldn’t make yourself pull away. not when rafe’s mouth was on your skin, not when his lips were dragging over the delicate flesh of your wrist, leaving wet trails that made you ache in ways you shouldn’t.

“you’ve gotta stop,” you breathed, but it came out weak, like even you didn’t believe it.

rafe grinned, leaning in closer until his lips were against your ear again. “you don’t want me to stop,” he whispered, his breath warm and sending chills down your spine. “you’ve never wanted me to stop.”

he was right. you didn’t want him to stop. you never did, even though you knew it was wrong. even though sofia was his girlfriend and you were just the girl he couldn’t keep his hands off of when no one was looking.

and that was the worst part of all of this—you liked it.

he leaned back a little, his eyes raking over you as if he was waiting for you to say something, to make some kind of move. but you were frozen, caught between wanting him and knowing that this would only end badly.

“what if she finds out?” you asked quietly, your voice barely a whisper.

rafe shrugged, his hand slipping down to your thigh now, fingers squeezing just enough to make you shift under his touch. “then she finds out,” he said simply, like it didn’t matter. like he didn’t care about the consequences.

you opened your mouth to say something else, to tell him to back off, but before you could, his lips were on yours, silencing any protest you might’ve had. the kiss was rough, urgent, his hands moving to pull you closer, dragging you onto his lap like you belonged there. you gasped against his mouth, but he didn’t stop, didn’t even hesitate. his tongue slid against yours, deepening the kiss as his hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin.

you couldn’t think. all you could do was feel—his lips, his hands, the heat of his body pressed up against yours. you’d tried so hard to resist this, to tell yourself it was just a game, just rafe fucking with you like always. but this? this wasn’t a game anymore.

rafe pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his lips hovering over yours as he muttered, “i want you. right fucking now.”

your heart was pounding in your chest, and you knew what he meant. this wasn’t just teasing anymore. this wasn’t just rafe being playful, sucking on your fingers or biting at your neck. this was him crossing a line, taking things further than either of you had ever let it go before.

but God, you wanted it. you wanted him.

“what about sofia?” you asked, even though the words felt hollow, like you didn’t really care anymore.

“fuck sofia,” he growled, his hands sliding under your shirt, fingers brushing over your bare skin. “she’s not here right now. this is about us.”

you knew you shouldn’t. every instinct was screaming at you to stop, to push him away, to remind him that he had a girlfriend, that sofia was in the next room, but all of that faded when rafe’s hands slid under your shirt. his fingers were cold against your heated skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps as they moved higher, inching closer to your bra. your breath hitched, and before you could stop yourself, you let out a quiet whimper.

“you like that?” rafe murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. he grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “i know you do. you can’t get enough of me.”

his arrogance was infuriating, but you couldn’t even deny it. you didn’t want to. maybe it was because you’d been craving this for so long, or maybe it was because, deep down, you liked the idea of being wanted by someone like him. someone dangerous. someone who could ruin you with just a single touch.

and God, rafe was doing just that.

he leaned back slightly, his eyes flicking over your face, waiting for you to make a move. but you couldn’t. your body was frozen, suspended between what you knew was right and what you wanted. and what you wanted right now, more than anything, was him.

“say it,” he whispered, his hand now fully under your shirt, his thumb brushing the underside of your bra. “tell me you want this.”

your chest was heaving as you stared at him, your lips parted, trying to catch your breath. you hated how easily he could get under your skin, how much power he had over you. but you couldn’t resist anymore.

“i want this,” you whispered, barely audible, but rafe heard you.

his grin widened, his eyes darkening as he pushed your shirt up over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. his hands immediately found your waist, pulling you closer as his lips descended on your neck again. this time, he didn’t stop at just teasing. his mouth latched onto the skin just above your collarbone, sucking hard enough that you knew it would leave a mark. a reminder of this night, of what you were doing, what you were about to do.

you bit your lip to keep from moaning too loudly, your hands gripping his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself. his fingers were deft, quick, as they unhooked your bra, sliding the straps down your arms until it joined your shirt on the floor. your skin felt too hot, every nerve alive as his mouth moved lower, his teeth grazing over your bare chest, sucking, biting, marking you.

“you’re fucking perfect,” rafe muttered against your skin, his voice thick with desire. his hands roamed your body, squeezing, caressing, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

it wasn’t long before you were tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. rafe chuckled, leaning back just enough to pull it off, and the sight of him—his toned chest, the dark marks of your fingernails already digging into his skin—made your stomach flip. he was perfect, in that fucked-up, dangerous way, and you knew you were in too deep.

but there was no going back now.

rafe’s lips crashed against yours again, this time more aggressive, more demanding. his hands slid down to your hips, gripping them tightly as he ground against you. you could feel him, hard and ready, through the fabric of his jeans, and the sensation sent a jolt of heat straight to your core.

“God, i need you,” he groaned, his hands slipping under the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down just enough to give him access. his fingers found your puffy folds, and the moment he touched you, you gasped, arching into him.

you didn’t care about sofia anymore. you didn’t care about the consequences, the guilt, or the fact that this was wrong. all you cared about was rafe, about the way he made you feel, the way he was driving you wild with nothing more than his fingers and his mouth.

“tell me you’re mine,” rafe whispered against your lips, his voice rough, full of need. “tell me no one else can touch you like this.”

you knew he was playing a dangerous game, one that would leave both of you in pieces when it was over. but you didn’t care. not right now.

“i’m yours,” you breathed, and that was all it took for him to lose control.

within seconds, rafe had you on your back, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed himself against you. the weight of him, the heat of his skin against yours, made your mind go blank. his lips were on yours again, kissing you like he couldn’t get enough, like he needed you to breathe. his hands roamed your body, greedy, possessive, leaving no inch of skin untouched.

you were lost in him, in the way he made you feel. the guilt, the fear, all of it disappeared, replaced by the overwhelming need to have him. you could feel him, hard and ready, as his hips pressed into yours, and you knew where this was going. you knew what was about to happen.

but then, just as quickly as it started, rafe froze.

his body tensed, his breathing heavy as he pulled back, his eyes searching yours. for a moment, the tension in the air shifted, and you could see something flicker in his expression—something uncertain, conflicted. it was like he realized all at once what the two of you were doing, like the weight of his relationship with sofia suddenly crashed down on him.

“fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he sat back, still straddling your waist. “what the hell are we doing?”

the question hung in the air, heavy with guilt and tension. you could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he was torn between wanting you and knowing that this was wrong. and for the first time, the reality of the situation hit you like a punch to the gut.

“rafe,” you started, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

“i can’t… i…” he trailed off, staring down at you, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. “i have a girlfriend.”

there it was. the thing you’d both been ignoring all night, the reason why this was wrong in the first place. sofia. she was still here, still in the next room, completely unaware of what had just happened between you and rafe.

“fuck,” rafe muttered again, standing up and running his hands through his hair. he looked at you, eyes filled with frustration and regret. “we can’t do this. we can’t fucking do this.”

you sat up, pulling your knees to your chest as you watched him pace back and forth. the heat of the moment was gone, replaced by a cold, sinking feeling in your stomach. because he was right. you couldn’t do this. not like this. not when he had sofia waiting for him, trusting him.

“i know,” you whispered, even though it hurt to say it. because you wanted him. you wanted him so fucking badly. but not like this. not when it would destroy everything.

rafe stopped pacing, turning to look at you with a mix of desire and frustration in his eyes. “this is fucked up,” he muttered, shaking his head. “i...i need some fucking air.”

without another word, he stormed out of the room, leaving you alone in the silence. your heart was still racing, your body still buzzing from the intensity of the moment. but now, all that was left was the harsh reality of what had just happened.

you’d crossed a line.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[suksatoru]

𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝑒𝓁𝓈.

satoru gojo drabble ༘⋆🌷🫧💭₊˚ෆ

╰┈➤ satoru!gojo x reader ೃ⁀➷

synopsis; you catch the eye of the famous satoru gojo!

The first time he'd seen you, he was positively sure his eyes were playing some sort of a trick on him.

You had been sitting a few tables down, hands holding a book as your delicate brows were pulled in concentration. He watched you take a bite of the pastry in front of you - and was sure he was about to faint right then and there.

"What are you making that stupid face for?"

Megumi sat in front of him - who may have been speaking to him. Or maybe not - Satoru was too focused on you to even notice as he shook his head, still in a daze.

"Nothing!" Satoru says a little too happily, an attentive smile on his face as he watches you tuck your legs over one another - an elegant finger mindlessly twirling a strand of your hair as you continued reading the piece of literature in front of you

He follows his teachers line of sight to the pretty girl who's simply minding her own business, raising a brow as Satoru's rare show of genuine interest in a woman

"I'm gonna marry her." Satoru says proudly, and Megumi can only roll his eyes as he continues pushing the food around in his plate

"You better leave her alone. God forbid she has to encounter - Hey! Satoru Gojo wait!"

Megumi can only face palm as he watches Satoru giddily approach your table, hands in his pockets as he walks with long strides in your direction. He has the cheesiest smile on his face - and before Megumi knows it, his teacher is eagerly sliding into the chair across from you

He can see your smile as you engage into whatever despicable conversation Satoru must have trapped you in, but he can't seem to stop himself from craning his neck towards you to try and hear you guys better

He couldn't lie to himself - you were easily one of the prettiest girl's he'd ever seen. From your dazzling eyes to your sweet smile - he couldn't even blame Satoru for marching over to you with such a passion. Hell - maybe he would have done the same thing if he had the unrelenting pride of Satoru Gojo.

He huffed, slumping in his chair and ticked that his teacher had so quickly abandoned him. Every few minutes, he would hear his teachers unmistakable and very loud laugh, but Megumi couldn't stop the small smile that found it's way onto his face at the genuine pleasure in his teachers voice - a sound he did not hear too often.

Eventually, Satoru was waving goodbye to you as you left - presumably having somewhere to go. You were blushing as you tucked your hair behind your ear, cradling your book to your chest as he bid you farewell.

Megumi watched as Satoru walked back to their table with a shit eating grin on his face, the grown man was humming like some sort of love sick teenager, and it made Megumi scowl. He had a small slip of paper in his hand too - the pink ink on it signifying a phone number you must have given him

"You abandoned me? You know, we were talking about a very important upcoming mission, and - "

"I am totally going to marry her."

Megumi can only groan as he watches Satoru excitedly input your number into his phone - the contact name reading wifey, but not without a few dozen hearts placed right after the word.

[bokutosbiceps]

bodyguard boyfriend

eustass kid/monkey d luffy/roronoa zoro/trafalgar d water law/vinsmoke sanji x gn!reader | fluff | ~900 words

warnings: some suggestive/18+ themes but nothing explicit, cursing

a/n: okay, this was heavily inspired by @pileofmush because she wrote such a beautiful match up for me + zoro that i started to think about how some of my fav boys would be protective over their s/o !! this is more comedic than romantic but i had such a good time writing it :3

18+ MDNI

eustass kid isn't afraid to straight up tell someone to fuck off. he’ll sneer at them through gritted teeth as he stands behind you, keeping a protective hand on the small of your back. if that alone is not enough to send anyone in a twenty foot vicinity scurrying away, he'll approach whoever has their eyes set on you.

“what the fuck do you think you're looking at?” kid will cross his arms and make himself look bigger, which really isn't necessary with his nearly seven foot frame. “get lost, you piece of shit, or i'll make you regret it.”

if this person isn't stupid, they'll immediately obey and never show their face around you again.

you're always oblivious to others’ attention, though, since kid takes care of it so quickly.

“where'd you go?” you’d ask, looking over your shoulder as kid returned to you.

“nowhere, doll, nothin’ to worry about.” he’d say gruffly before assuming his rightful place next to you and draping an arm over your shoulders.

monkey d luffy doesn't ever get jealous! he doesn't mind if you talk to other people who may or may not be attractive to you, and he doesn't mind if people blatantly hit on you. it's not like he’d ever really pick up on the fact that someone's flirting with you, anyway.

there are times when he becomes protective, though, and that is if someone is harassing you relentlessly, despite your attempts to free yourself from the situation. 

he’ll place himself between you and the assailant, his arms outstretched as he herds you behind him. all he has to do is glare at them, and the cheerful boy who'd been by your side is quickly replaced by your strong and capable boyfriend, who’d fight the gods themselves to keep you safe and sound.

“leave ‘em alone.” he'd say lowly, and that's the only thing he’d have to do. afterwards, he'd wrap his limbs all the way around you and rub his cheek against yours, speaking to you in a soft voice but with a huge grin on his face to try and cheer you up.

“you doin’ okay? i got rid of ‘em for ya. you'll never hafta worry about ‘em again!”

roronoa zoro is hyper aware of all of his surroundings. every time you're in public, he notices anyone and everyone who happens to even look in your direction. you'd never know it, though, since he's always good at keeping his cool and aloof in most situations.

“i don’ like the way that person is lookin’ atcha.” zoro would grunt, keeping one hand on his swords and the other wrapped around your waist, fingers pressing into your skin.

“ro, there's no one looking at me. calm down.” you'd say with a chuckle. “be my boyfriend, not my guard dog.”

he'd narrow his eyes at you, a very subtle frown grazing his lips, but he'd comply nonetheless. you're right, after all, there's nothing to worry about. 

so he'd just resort to being glued to your backside, hands on your hips and head on a swivel, glaring daggers at this person until they slink away. once they're gone, he'd smirk and huff a satisfied chuckle, letting himself relax as he rests his head in the crook of your neck and closes his eyes. yeah, he's not too worried about it.

trafalgar d water law doesn't typically get jealous. if he does, he'll hold it in his heart and let it weigh heavy on his chest and just send death wishes to whoever is taking your attention away at the moment. it's very easy for him to get you out of these situations, though. he doesn't really want to deal with conflict, he's too tired for that shit. so he has a very simple solution.

he’ll approach you and the unwelcome stranger, sighing and taking his hands out of his pockets.

“room.” law raises his hand, sending a devious smirk from underneath his cap toward the stranger. “shambles.”

and then the stranger would be gone, simple as that.

you'd turn to law with an exasperated look. “you just can't help yourself can you?”

he would just exhale a chuckle and pull you close with one arm, not saying a word.

vinsmoke sanji becomes aggressively aware immediately after anyone of the opposite sex expresses even the most minute amount of interest in you. it could be a smile that looks just a little to friendly or a glance that lasts a little too long, he's on it.

he won't let you notice, though. he'll keep his loving and cheerful demeanor, speaking to you in a sweet voice and continuing to call you by your pet name whenever you speak to him. but he's going to be stalking around you, blocking the pursuer’s line of sight with his body while keeping his hands on your hips.

“i’ll be right back, darling!” he’d tilt your chin up to place a sweet kiss to your lips before quickly approaching the stranger and grabbing them by their collar, dragging them out of the area. 

he wouldn't physically harm them, but he'd shove them against a wall and threaten the fuck out of them. “if you ever so much as look at my precious y/n-chan again, i will personally deliver you to hell.”

then he'd be off, running back to your arms with such zest and sweet excitement!

taglist: @kingofthe-egirls @chopperwithouthishat @usoppsstar + mush but she's already tagged lolol

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Nanami and his camera...

Note: not smut but suggestive... very domestic nanami

Masterlist Discord

Nanami never saw the point in the whole “sending nudes” thing. He found it cliché and stupid, a meaningless exchange that seemed to reduce romantic relationships to superficial transactions. He believed that there was so much more to a relationship than just sending naked photos to each other, Nanami valued the tangible, authentic moments that built a real bond between two people. And that was one of the reasons you were so drawn to him. 

He was respectful, kind, and hardworking–everything you could hope for in a man. Nanami embodied all the qualities of a perfect gentleman. And of course being in a committed relationship, it's natural to want to give your lover gifts. And so you did. One year into your relationship, you gift Nanami a camera. 

Saying he liked it was an understatement, he adored it. He started off with simple things, like taking pictures of the meals he cooked, photographs of the scenery in the backyard, especially when the stray cats came to sunbathe on his porch. However, out of all the various things he photographed, his favorite was undeniably you.

He had a way of capturing you in your most candid moments, revealing sides of you even you hadn’t seen before. Doesn’t matter if you were lost in thought reading a book by the window, laughing uncontrollably at a joke he made with his dry humor, or gazing at the sunset after he took you out to dinner, Nanami found beauty in your every expression, every gesture. His eyes, through the lens, saw you as some kind of goddess. 

Even at night, when you were all ready for bed and fast asleep, Nanami liked capturing you in those tranquil moments. Something about how peaceful you looked as you slept brought him a sense of serenity. The way your chest rises and falls softly as you breathe, the way your hair generously fanned out across the pillow, and the way the thin sheets dipped into the natural curves of your body. All these small details captivated him.

It took him a while for him to build his confidence to take those pictures while you were awake. He just couldn’t help it the day you wore that sheer nightdress to bed that one night. His jaw drops in awe as you slide into the sheets with him, his eyes not once flattering off your body. 

“What’s wrong Kento…” you ask, making yourself comfortable in bed as you notice the way he seems lost in thought. 

Kento clears his throat, snapping back to reality, picking his jaw back up as if he just realized he’d been staring for too long. "You look lovely," he says, his voice a little unsteady. "Is that a new dress?"

You smile at him and nod. You did in fact just purchase the dress, feeling the soft fabric against your warm skin. You had hoped it would catch his attention. And it definitely was working, noticing the soft red blush creeping up on his cheeks. 

You watch his eyes take in every detail of the dress. The intricate lace pattern running up the dress, the way the fabric hugs your figure just right, and the softness of it that he could only dream of touching. The way that man looked at you always made you feel special, as if you’re the only person in the world at that moment.

“May I take a picture of you?” He croaks out, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and shyness. 

“Of course,” you reply, a playful twinkle in your eyes that he catches. “But get my good side,” you tease him. 

He laughs, a soft genuine smile spreading across his face. He slowly picked up the camera from his nightstand. Lifting it to his face as you patiently waited for him to snap the shot. He looks through the viewfinder, admiring your beautiful face, taking in every small detail of your face that makes you, you.  His eyes continue trail down, lingering on the lacy neckline of the dress, adoring the way it gracefully hugs your shoulders and falls effortlessly along your frame. 

He finally presses the button to snap the picture. The sound of the shutter clicking sends a rush through his body. He looks down at the picture he had taken. It was breathtaking. You were stunning beyond belief in his eyes. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, almost to himself, as he lowers the camera back down. His eyes come back to meet yours and you could almost swear your heart skipped a beat. Slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. His hands finally resting on your body, feeling the soft fabric against it.