#to wear no wraps for 'conditioning' is so so stupid

[mowiwow]

next year, the year after, and… (modern ayn)

The morning after Ayn’s birthday, a few hours before the two of you would return to Harp Island, Ayn sneaks you out of the mansion. The sun has yet to rise, with the entire world still plunged into a deep slumber.

In a way, it almost feels like this world belongs to just you and Ayn, with nobody else in sight.

“Did you wake up early, or did you stay up all night?”

You’re swinging Ayn’s hand back and forth as he guides you somewhere, voice a bit muffled by the scarf you’ve worn to combat the chill of the approaching winter. When you stare at the side of his face, Ayn looks away as he responds vaguely.

“I mean…”

“Well?”

“It’s easier to stay up late than to wake up early,” Ayn explains. When he sees you about to respond, he adds: “You’re not allowed to say anything. You’re always texting me at two. Your sleep schedule isn’t any better than mine.”

Your opened mouth promptly closes. Instead, you pinch the hand you’re holding in retaliation, unable to refute his words.

“Ow,” Ayn deadpans, turning his head to stare at you with the hint of a smile playing at his lips. “That hurt.”

“And?”

“Kiss it better?” he whispers.

You look at Ayn with exasperation, “You’ve become so shameless.”

Nonetheless, you lift his fingers to your lips to kiss them with exaggerated movements and make the silliest kissing noise you can.

“Better?”

“......Enough.”

“What, you don’t like my kisses?” you grin, pulling Ayn closer to you to plant a big kiss on his cheek, making sure to accompany it with a drawn-out, “Mmmmwah!”

“You’re really so…”

“What? Have something to say, dearest boyfriend?”

“I like your kisses,” Ayn mutters. When he sees your broad smile, he pinches your cheek and pulls at it with cold fingers, making you retreat further into your scarf for warmth. He narrows his eyes, moving to press his entire palm against your cheek. “Are you running from me?”

“Your hands are cold,” you complain. “And my scarf is warm.”

Wordlessly, Ayn starts to unwrap the grey plaid scarf around his neck. He wraps half of the scarf around you this time. The amateurish stitches itch at you, a reminder of your inexperience. But it’s this specific scarf that he’s chosen to wear, instead of any other scarf he has at his disposal.

Your cold cheek is now smushed against Ayn’s as he hunches over a bit awkwardly. You snicker, lifting a hand to adjust the scarf wrapped around the two of you.

“I realize that you wearing this scarf and those earmuffs outside comes with a condition, but don’t you think this kind of uncomfortable?”

“No. This is the most comfortable I’ve been.”

Alright, you liar.

“Okay, okay. How are we going to walk, though? You wanted to bring me somewhere, right?”

Ayn replies stubbornly as he takes a step forward, pulling you along with him. “Like this.”

Both of you stumble forward awkwardly, but Ayn is unwilling to part from you. The scarf you gave to Ayn sits awkwardly on top of your own. The cat-shaped earmuffs you made for him press into you uncomfortably and its beady eyes stare at you. Ayn’s probably more uncomfortable, though, as he hunches his back awkwardly to match your height.

“We probably look so stupid.”

“Who cares,” Ayn snorts. “Nobody’s around. Even if they were, it doesn’t matter what they think.”

“Are we really going to walk all the way to our destination like this?”

Ayn leans against you, stopping suddenly.

“We’re already at our destination.”

At some point, the two of you had stopped at—

“Leighton Creek Plaza,” you murmur.

Ayn nods a little, pulling the scarf with him. When he realizes the scarf is scratching at you, he stills.

“I liked to play around this area a lot when I was a kid. There are a lot of interesting musicians who busk here, though nobody’s here right now since it’s too early.”

You catch a trace of disappointment in his voice. Not long from now, the two of you will have to return to Harp Island to catch up on schoolwork now that Ayn’s finished his business in Leighton.

“How about I sing for you?”

Ayn looks at you eagerly, his response almost instantaneous.

“Yes— No, wait, hold on.” With his free hand, Ayn fumbles around a bit and pulls out his phone. “I need to record this.”

“No! No recordings! This is an exclusive concert, no recordings are allowed.”

Ayn looks at you with a frown, pouting slightly. “I know you save those voice clips. Of me singing.”

“...I’ll sing for you again later when I’ve practiced more,” you insist, embarrassed. “You can record me later. Here, let’s take a picture instead, okay?”

He hums reluctantly, holding his phone out as he takes a few pictures of the two of you huddled close together with noses and ears flushed red from the cold, tied together by a clumsily sewn scarf.

“Send me those later.”

“M’kay.”

As Ayn pockets his phone, you clear your throat a bit nervously. You recall the street performer you met yesterday, in this very spot, and the song he sang for you.

The song he sang for that little boy many years ago.

You know you’re definitely missing a few notes, with some off-beat, and your confidence shrinks. As your voice starts to die down, Ayn squeezes your hand in his, and you see the joy in his eyes as he recognizes the song you sing. With that, you continue.

The world falls silent once you finish.

Then, through the silence, your name is whispered, and the cold biting at you fades as two arms wrap around you tightly.

Ayn doesn’t need to say it for you hear the words in his heart.

I love you too, you think, reaching out to return his hug.

The sun begins to rise, bathing this world belonging to just you and Ayn in a sweet, rosy hue. As you both turn to watch the sunrise, you quietly hook his pinky finger with yours.

“Let’s come back here next time,” you whisper. “Next year, let’s listen to the buskers from your childhood together. And the year after that. And the year after that, and…”

“Until the end of our days?”

The overwhelming happiness you feel tickles your heart as you lean contentedly against Ayn. The earmuffs are ticklish as they press against you, and the scarf scratches against your cheeks, a reminder of both your imperfection and his. But, with him by your side, you’ve never felt cozier.

You hum in affirmation as you make your promise to this boy, who once travelled this world alone.

“Until the end of our days.”

[immortalsins]

if a muay thai instructor doesnt let u wear handwraps as a 'ground rule' since they're aiming for 'wrist conditioning' and when i ask if its a problem that i still do he says 'haha. Yes' is that a major concern yes or yes

[heartswithinreach]

your post about sylus essentially conditioning the reader to sit on his lap hasjsakddf that was so perfect and in character 😭 i love it sm its given me so much brain rot - how bout this:

can i request the lads boys reaction to the reader randomly asking to be carried/picked up in the middle of walking? for no other reason just to see how'd they react lol

LaDS casually carrying MC

Xavier

The most casual. He just smiles at you and asks, "Bridal or piggyback?" in the same tone as if he's asking what you want to eat.

And he's not just playing along. He means it. He wants to be the one you lean on — metaphorically and literally.

You can try and backtrack but then you'll get those eyes. The bluest puppy dog eyes that can break the strongest of wills. "Are you sure? We still have a few blocks to go to the café, I don’t want you to get tired..."

You feel like you're holding out on him by not letting him carry you. The mind tricks this man is capable of to get what he wants are ridiculous.

You fold embarrassingly fast and Xavier is happy as can be with you on his back, your arms and legs around him like a full-body embrace. He can see the tactical advantage to carrying you like this during missions, too.

Rafayel

"You want me to carry you?“ Rafayel scoffs. “What if I pulled a muscle in my arm and couldn't draw for a week? No thank you!"

He refuses until you ask if it's not that he doesn't want to carry you, but that he can't.

Now you've wounded his pride. He might not be the God of the Sea anymore, but he can't let this go unanswered! Rafayel will be on you relentlessly to let him pick you up, no matter how long it takes.

"Whoa, be careful, cutie! There's no telling how deep these puddles are from all the rain — you're super lucky your boyfriend is here to carry you to safety."

When you finally break and let him do it just so he can prove a point, he realizes he likes this way more than he thought he would. You're like his adorable little prisoner and the only way you're getting out is in praise and smooches. This will become a regular thing, I fear.

Zayne

“I told you to wear more comfortable shoes.”

Zayne inwardly grins at how quickly you deflate at his blunt response. It's adorable.

But Zayne has a hard time denying you something so innocent as wanting to be close to him. So he guides your arm to wrap around his shoulders and picks you up with a strength that always takes you by surprise.

He waits for you to settle comfortably in his arms before he starts walking. He's aware of the disapproving stares from the people around you and not too long ago, he would've been one of them. How quickly his perspective has changed because of you.

Zayne is brought out of his thoughts when he feels you peck his cheek and now you get that oh so familiar look of gentle reproach from him. "I am working on being more affectionate but I'm not there yet, MC. Now, behave or your ride will end early."

Sylus

Sylus is so caught off guard that, for once, you can see his entire thought process play out through his expressions.

Surprise at your request, suspicion you're just toying with him, the realization you're being somewhat serious, and then the most gratified look you've ever seen on his stupid smug face.

Now you’re speaking his language. So delighted you’re finally catching on, he just picks you up and continues on his way without breaking his stride.

However, you didn't specify how he should carry you. So you're draped over Sylus's shoulder and to keep you there, his hand is dangerously high up on your thigh for being in public. The smack on your ass is so inevitable, you can feel it like it's already happened.

"You just said you were tired, now you want me to put you down? You need to learn to make up your mind, kitten. I'll just carry you until you're sure of what you want."

[stars-for-circe]

Tongue Tied

Support Palestine

Tags / cw: EXTREMELY suggestive, oral fixation, fingers in mouth, tongue piercing, piercer!Ellie, choking, finger sucking, Ellie is kinda pervy?? WE USE CELSIUS GUYS. 19 CELSIUS!!!

The leather seat felt clammy below you, despite the gentle faux breeze coming from the air conditioning. Beside you, the small tray of sterile equipment, reminding you of why you were here in the first place.

You shivered. Fuck, who sets the AC at 19 degrees? Wrapping your arms around yourself, you began to regret the choice of wearing a tank top despite the weather outside. Outside, where you’d much rather be - where there wasn’t a room colder than the arctic, or a bunch of needles about to be stuck in you, or a stupid fucking leather seat digging right in-

“Cold? I can turn it up, if you want.”

Ellie Williams. The most popular piercer in the area. Either from her looks or her talent, you couldn’t tell - but it was probably both. Arms crossed as she leaned against the door, and a small, amused smirk on her face as she watched your antics.

“Um, no, it’s fine.” You said shakily - or shyly, rather - smiling through your chattering teeth after you found where the voice came from. You spontaneity was probably enough of an inconvenience, booking an appointment late at night where it was the only time Ellie could fit you in - so it would have been rude to make her wait any longer than necessary to get the piercing done and lock up.

“I’m Ellie, by the way.” She called out, before making a beeline from the doorway to the small station at the end of the room, keeping her head down the entire time. You hummed in response, just barely suppressing the ‘I know’ on the tip of your tongue, as she rubbed some of the sanitiser in and put the gloves on. Then, Ellie paused her movements, back still turned away from you as she raised her head.

“Although….” You held your breath. You could feel the smirk on her faced despite not being able to see it.

“…I’m guessing you knew that already, Jesse told me some pretty girl wanted me ‘specifically’, to pierce her today…”

“What?” You stuttered out, mentally blaming it on the chill, and not your lack thereof. This time, Ellie snickered, shaking her head softly as she turned around heading towards you.

“So, you gonna stick your tongue out for me?” Grin still on her face, she watched as you sputtered out a reply while she haphazardly grabbed the forceps off the equipment tray.

“W-what?”

“You’re here for a tongue piercing, aren’t you?”

…That sly little shit

You could only nod, too taken aback to do much else. The most you expected here was to get a damn good piercing from a really hot girl, what Ellie was doing to you was not planned in your little outing.

“Yeah? So open up, hon. Gotta mark where you want it.”

Now Ellie knew that she didn’t need to mark anything - she was so used to doing this that she could just eyeball it and still be accurate. But, she thought, being able to cup your face, while you oh so obediently stuck your tongue out for her, as she just slipped her thumb ever so slightly into your mouth under the guise of keeping you still, would make up for the extra labour.

Your mouth was warm. Even through the black latex she wore. Ellie could almost imagine how soft it would feel sucking her dick, how delicate you’d be while kissing along the silicone. Fuck, she’d moan out loud if she wasn’t careful - all from the pad of her thumb resting on your tongue. And the way it twitched and made a swallowing motion as the bitter taste of the marker hit your throat really didn’t help.

“Hah…” You made a small noise at the prolonged moment. Surely the marker didn’t need this long to deposit a tiny dot pigment?

Ellie quickly snapped out of it, ripping her gaze from your mouth to your eyes. Right, she was still piercing you today, nothing else. And the taste of the marker probably wasn’t pleasant enough to be placed there for so long…

“Uh- so, ‘m gonna get the needle now.” She stuttered out, before making a joke.

“Last chance to back out…..or tell me if you’re squeamish….”

Fuck, the needle was kinda of big. Like, really big. Was it really meant to be that big? For a moment you hesitated, wanting to back out of this all and go home. But then you looked at Ellie, holding the forceps in once hand, reaching to grab the needle with the other, and you really wondered if backing out and embarrassing yourself in front of Ellie Williams - because of a fucking needle - was worth it. It would be over quick, right?

“Um, no- I mean-” you coughed.

“No, not squeamish, so, yeah, ‘m ready…”

“Yeah? Just uh, take a deep breath, ‘n stick your tongue out when you’re ready.”

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth, and stuck out your tongue - just like Ellie said. For a moment, you flinched, feeling the cold press of the forceps clamping on your tongue, before you concluded that keeping your eyes open would lessen the surprises. In front of you was Ellie, although a lot closer than before. And this time, with the needle in her hand, facing you.

She nodded, for approval. And you could only look at her with wide enough eyes that you hoped conveyed your consent, before she slowly, and gently, put the needle through.

Now, if Ellie hadn’t been on the clock, if there weren’t a couple people at the register or a possible camera somewhere in the room, Ellie would have fucked you. She would have shoved the damn piercing in and shove you flat on the seat and she would have fucked you so hard you’d be numb the day after. But Ellie couldn’t.

Fuck, she wanted to, but she couldn’t. Because no matter how fucking hot you were, or how cute you looked staring so trustingly up at her with your cute fucking eyes while she shoved a needle in your mouth, or how your small breathy whine of pain when it went through made Ellie soak herself-

“I uh- ‘m gonna put the piercing through now. It’s gonna feel a bit pinchy for a second.”

She didn’t know if you wanted her back.

You scrunched your eyes a little, as the piercing went through, but discomfort finally turned into relief as you could finally put your tongue back in your mouth. Then it went quiet for a bit, the both of you not really knowing what to do next. Which was weird, because wasn’t Ellie used to doing this?

“Can I um, take a look?”

She stared at you, for a moment, almost like she was in thought, before nodding and reaching for the mirror and handing it to you. You held it up and stuck your tongue out once again. And, to your happiness, it looked really fucking good.

There was a chance you got a little too happy, however, as you smiled openly and started to almost flick your tongue about, looking at it from every angle imaginable. And maybe if you paid less attention to your new modification, and more on Ellie, you’d notice her focused stare on you. Well, your tongue, more like.

You’d have noticed her furrowed brows, deep in thought, her own mouth slightly open at the sight, and her fists clenching and unclenching, too. But you didn’t.

What you did notice, though, was her ripping the mirror out of your hands. Like an epiphany came to her about your piercing. She threw it on the table, making a loud clanging noise, before cupping your face with her hands on each side. She stayed like that for a while, staring at your now closed mouth and so close that you could feel her breath fanning on your face. And it took about five seconds before Ellie’s eyes widened and she realised how fucking weird she was being.

“Uh- fuck-” she began, almost like she was breathless. Her eyes flitted around the room and she shifted on her feet, until she could figure out what to say.

“Your piercing.”

“My…..piercing?”

“It’s crooked. Might be the backing but uh- I need to fix it.”

You raised a brow. Wasn’t Ellie mean to be a really good piercer? Maybe it was the piercing itself or something, you thought, as you nodded closely and opened your mouth. Slowly, you felt her right hand trail from your cheek to your lips, thumb pulling slightly on the bottom one before slipping her index into your mouth.

Shit, Ellie missed it so much. Albeit, it had probably been three minutes since she last had her fingers in your mouth, but it felt so good. Like they belonged there. She wondered how long she could keep this up, before you noticed what she was doing. She was almost worried you’d find out and get mad at her. But then she felt your tongue swishing along her index, and then she slipped her middle finger in too. And then, Ellie stopped giving a fuck.

And you couldn’t help but rest your cheek on the lasting hand on the side of your face, almost nestling into it as subtly as possible. Part of you knew this was unprofessional, that there were better ways to go about a fucked up piercing. But another part of you couldn’t help but like what Ellie was doing. And you couldn’t help but suck.

Ellie choked out a moan. She covered it up though, by talking.

“You need to stop moving. Here, let me just-”

“Ellie-”

“Shhh, don’t move.” She spoke so tenderly, almost whispering to you as her thumb stroked your cheek. Maybe it was the soft dominance she was extruding, or maybe it was because of how desperately fucking wet you already were. Either way, you listened.

You sat pin straight, as you felt the hand cupping you cheek slip down your jaw, and find its place on your throat. And you stayed still, as you felt her hand close around it and squeeze on either side.

“Can you stay still now, baby?” God, that made you feel fuzzy. That and the now limited blood circulation coming to your brain. Fuck, you never realised choking felt this good.

Ellie watched you, as you slouched and drooped your eyes, as drool started to slip out of your mouth while you were still sucking on her fingers. How you whimpered as her hold on your throat tightened - how your thighs rubbed together as she did that.

And you watched Ellie, through your hazy, droopy eyes, as her breathy pants got deeper, as she leaned even closer to you as her grip tightened, and as her eyes searched yours for some sort of response to a question she didn’t ask - but you knew she wanted the answer to. You sucked even harder. You let your tongue run along the ridged and bumps the gloves made on her finger. You swallowed so hard that her hand on your throat moved along in tandem.

“Shit- you- ohmygod-” Ellie’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she whined. She was pleading you at this point.

And you nodded.

…Fuck it.

“You wanna fuck?” She mumbled breathily, taking a long, condescending glance at your body - the state of your body - and then another at the lock on the door. Running a hand through her hair, Ellie took a deep breath, before letting out a loose chuckle.

“God- s’is so fuckin stupid…” She ran her tongue along her teeth, scoffing at how eagerly, how desperately you looked at her. And this time, she answered her own question for you.

“…..Yeah, let’s fuck.”

Taglist: @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @r3starttt @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @ratdungeon @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @abbyshands @littlegingerperson5 @flowersforvi

[satorusugurugurl]

JJK Men: Seeing You Without Makeup For the First Time

Warning: Fluffy sweetness, insecurities, suggestiveness, language

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo, Modern!Ryomen Sukuna, Nanami Kento

Word Count: 2,993

A/N: Ah yes, I love this trope. It was fun to write!! Please Enjoy, don't blame me from any cavities from this sweet fluff. Request Open.

Gojo Satoru:

The smell of freshly brewed coffee was the only thing keeping your eyes open. You grumbled and cursed the sun for rising another day as you leaned over the kitchen counter, watching the magic bean juice filling your cup. The higher-ups must not like you because the mission they just sent you on was hell.

A week, a damn week, you were gone. A week from your bed, students, and your boyfriend. Stupid old men and their dumb missions. But who were you to complain if you paid your bills and you were able to teach the next generation of sorcerers? So life wasn't that bad.

Then again, your somewhat happy outlook on life might be the sleep deprivation talking.

The bastards were sweet enough to give you one day to recuperate. There was no time to relax, though. You had laundry to sort through, groceries to pick up, and the normal mundane things you'd missed out on during the WEEK you were gone!

A day off was a day off despite it being a busy one. You would get it all done after you drank this coffee Satoru got you from Mexico on his last mission. As soon as you downed it, you would off. You were already dressed to go. You had on sweats and a t-shirt, and you opted out of putting on any makeup, seeing that you would just be running around.

Your phone chimed as Satoru’s name popped up on your screen. You smiled as you opened the chat.

Satoru: Good morning, beautiful! 😙 Welcome back! I had breakfast delivered to you; enjoy! 🍳🥓🧇

“Oh, he's getting laid later.” You squealed, running for the door to your apartment.

You flung it open, staring at the ground, expecting a bag, but instead, you were greeted by shoes. Designer shoes that you knew all too well. Slowly trailing up dark uniform pants and jacket that was from the same school you worked at. Further up, you caught sight of a wide grin, a blindfold, and fluffy white hair. All of which belongs to your boyfriend, who was holding a takeout bag.

“Special delivery for Y/L/N Y/N!”

Your boyfriend was here. The same boyfriend who was utterly gorgeous no matter what condition he was in. The man could be caked in blood, and you still wanted to kiss him. Then there was you; you always put in the effort to look nice around him, hair styled, cute outfit, some form of makeup always on.

Today was not one of those days.

In a panic, you squeaked, slamming the door in his face. “What the fuck?! What the actual fuck!?” You glanced around for anything you could use to hide your appearance. You panicked and grabbed the first thing off the couch.

“Uhm, babe?” Satoru questioned, opening the door. “I know you were gone for a week. But I'm Gojo Satoru, your boyfriend.”

“I know!! Sorry, I wasn't expecting to see you!” you had your back turned to him, covering your face with your hands. “T-Thanks for the food! But I have so much to do!”

“Really?”

“Yep! Laundry!”

“I had Ijichi pick it up this morning.”

Fuuuuck.

“O-Okay! I have to get groceries!”

“Your fridge is fully stocked, courtesy of yours truly.”

The room felt like it was shrinking in on you as you listened to him come up behind you. The bag was discarded as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. You weren't sure how he would react, seeing your bare face, and that was terrifying.

So many men thought women wearing makeup was like lying. You had always done very light and minimal makeup, but it didn't make it less scary. Sensing the tension, Satoru gently turned you around so you were facing him. He stiffened, his mouth turning from a grin to a shocked expression.

“Y/N?” His voice was so quiet.

“Y-Yeah?”

A choked laugh erupted from his throat. “I-Is that one of my blindfolded?!” He called as you stated at the darkness his blindfold provided. “Oh my god, hold on! Hold on!” You could feel him near you with the camera on his phone clicking. “Oh my god, wait until the second years see this!” Fingers hooked under the blindfold, yanking it up and off your head.

Your hands flew up, hiding your face. Your attempt was foiled as Satoru's gentle hands pulled them away. With a shuddering sigh, you looked up at him, biting your cheek as he fully saw you. For you, no makeup, fancy clothes, or styled hair.

Satoru just smiled, leaning down before he kissed your lips gently. “Welcome home.” He pulled back, tilting his head to the side. “What was with the off-brand cosplay?” Your cheeks are flushed, the darker pigment visible without any trace of makeup.

“I-I don't have any makeup on.”

“Oh!” He straightened, his large hand patting your head. “You're so cute.”

His grin grew wider at the confused expression inching its way over your face. “Seriously? Do you think that? Even without the makeup and the baggy clothes? You still think I'm cute?” Satoru’s head bobbed up and down so fast you thought his head would fall out. His sincere reaction made you giggle, shaking your head. “Satoru, you are so strange. But also extremely sweet.” When you looked up, you blinked, seeing Gojo holding up one side of his blindfold. His bright blue eye looked you over, inching over every curve and surface of you. “Satoru, stop staring.”

“I just was confirming something.” he snapped his blindfold back into place before draping an arm over you.

You poured yourself a cup of coffee while Satoru pulled your breakfast out of the bag. “Confirming what?”

“Just confirming with Six-Eyes that I have the prettiest girlfriend in the entire world.”

Gojo’s smile slowly faded as you slammed the coffee pot down. Oh fuck, what did he say?! You led around; fire swarmed in Y/E/C eyes as you stormed over to him, grabbing his wrist.

“W-What?! What did I say?” He huffed out a gasp as you shoved him onto the couch.

“Everything.”

You unzipped his pants, and Gojo’s eyes were wide behind his blindfold. Even with Six-Eyes, Gojo did not see this coming. Spoiler alert: It was him, he was going to cum.

Choso Kamo:

A knock at your door had you straightening from your spot on the couch. Looking at your phone, you quickly got up. It was well past midnight, and it was never a good sign when someone knocked that late at night on the door.

Much to your relief, when you opened the door to your apartment, your boyfriend looked down at you. “Choso?” a sigh of relief escaped your lips.

“I'm sorry. Did I wake you?” he asked before entering your apartment.

“No, I think you just saved me a stiff neck.” You yawned out before locking the door. “Did you and Yuuji finish up with that mission?”

“Yes, he went back home; I wanted to see you.”

Choso watched as you moved around the apartment. You straightened up the pillows on the couch and wiped down your kitchen before grabbing his hand and leading him to the bedroom. The entire time you went about your mundane tasks, Choso just stared. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was different about you.

Choso’s eyes moved over you. Trying to depict what was different tonight. Haircut? No. New pajamas? No, that wasn't it, either. Everything Choso tried to think of wasn't the right answer. Not knowing what it was frustrated him to the point that Choso’s eyebrow twitched.

What had you glowing in the lowlights of your bedroom as you pulled the sheets back? “Cho?” You finally asked with a nervous chuckle. “Are you okay? You're staring holes through me.” Realizing that he had been caught, Choso flinched.

“I'm sorry, sorry I just—” Words trailed off as his cheeks flushed.

You had noticed Choso staring at you since he came inside. The poor guy never saw you without makeup, which was probably strange. He seemed to be struggling, trying to find the words to the mountain of questions he might have.

“It's okay. I think I know what you're going to ask.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, you’re going to ask what’s different.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I look different because I’m not wearing makeup.”

Choso tilted his head to the side.”Oh, no, I was going to say you look radiant tonight.” The words that left his mouth had both of you standing in silence.

You just eyed Choso as he smiled, nodding his head like he'd figured out the mystery of what was different. Pleased with his conclusion, he helped you pull the sheets back. His hands smoothed out the covers before he peered up at you. You were blushing, smiling ear to ear as you finished pulling the bed back.

“I just finished doing my skincare routine,” you announced as you crawled into bed after Choso showered. “I have a new serum that is supposed to make you look luminescent.”

Choso studied you carefully as he crawled into bed with you. “Mmm, maybe that’s it.” He pulled you into his arms. “Or maybe it’s just me.” Choso hummed, staring into the face that he loved so much. “Falling in love.” Love?! “Yeah, I think that’s exactly what this is.”

That was the reasoning behind your radiant glow. A glow that always surrounded you no matter what you wore or looked like. Choso saw utter perfection in you. So it only made sense that the reason you looked extra stunning was that he had fallen in love with you even more.

You just snuggled closer into his chest, grinning wide as he yawned. “I love you too, Cho.”

Ryomen Sukuna:

Ten minutes. All it took was ten minutes before chaos erupted in Sukuna’s apartment. He had just finished changing when he heard the commotion. Yuuji and Choso were bickering before you gently tried to break up the argument. The next thing he heard was a scream, your scream, to be exact.

He bolted, running into the kitchen, where he found you wiping at your face. “What the fuck?!” His younger brothers both stood in shock, watching you in fear. Yuuji was holding a box of baking soda, and Choso held a bottle of vinegar.

In the center of the kitchen was the volcano experiment you had been helping Yuuji make. Sukuna was able to put it all together in an instant. He didn't bother yelling. He instead lifted you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom.

“What the hell happened?” You flinched when you felt a warm, wet rag gently cleaning your face off.

“The boys wanted to see how big of an explosion they could make. But you know the boys, they both were arguing about who should do what. Words were said, contents were thrown into a beaker, and I didn't have my safety goggles on.”

Sukuna sighed, continuing to rub off the mess on your face. “You're not hurt, are you?”

“Nope!” Your confident response had your boyfriend chuckling as he wiped more of the foamy goop off your face.

After about five minutes of wiping and rinsing the rag, Sukuna sat on the tub's edge, examining your face. It was without the small amount of makeup you had on and the lighting of the bathroom that he stared at you. You were stunning, gorgeous in everything. But here in the bathroom, his eyes mapped out your face.

“What happened here?” he asked, fingertips pressing against a small scar under your eye.

Thinking it was food coloring, you turned to the mirror, seeing your bare face. “EH?!” You touched it, groaning as you looked back at your boyfriend, who was smirking. “You wiped off all my makeup!” For a second, Sukuna thought he was dealing with a third child in his apartment.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want to have vinegar on your face?” You shook your head. “That's what I thought. So confess what happened there?”

“Acne scar.”

A soft him rumbled in his chest before he learned over, thumb grazing over a tiny scar at the bottom of your lip. “This?” gentle fingers moved up, brushing over your bottom lip as he stepped closer towards you.

“I-I fell off my bike.”

You swallowed hard, whimpering as Sukuna’s fingers grazed over your face. You were feeling how soft your delicate skin was. All of you mesmerized him. Every time you came over, he learned a little more about you. And god, he fuckin’ loved that.

His hands gently mapped your face out. The softness had you breathing heavily, his eyes glued to your lips. Having your boyfriend gaze over you with such a soft yet burning gaze had you shifting. The air in the bathroom became thick with need as he slowly slipped your tank top sleeve down.

“Y/N, let me see all of you. I want to map out your body and learn everything it has to say.”

“W-What’s gotten into you?”

The whisper tone of your voice had Sukuna sliding the other sleeve of your tank top down. “You. You’ve crept your way into my heart.” The confession that spilled from his lips has you leaning in, wanting him to touch you everywhere. The same way he had touched your face.

“Hey, is she okay?” Choso’s timid voice whispered through the door. “Yuuji’s worried.”

“Take Yuuji out for ice cream.” Your tank top is slowly pulled over your head. “My card is on my dresser.”

Silence spreads out as you tug Sukuna’s shirt up and off. “R-Really?” hands began working on jeans.

“Yes, I have my own project to work on.” Sukuna turned the shower on, and he never heard Choso collecting Yuuji so fast. Refusing to answer any questions as the door to the apartment slammed shut.

Sukuna’s antics had you giggling, licking your lip, and he stripped you completely. “A project, huh?” he nodded, following you into the shower.

“Yeah, but it won't be vinegar foam that covers that pretty face this time.”

Nanami Kento:

The hotel sheets were cold and crisp over your and your boyfriend's bodies. Between the chill and the heat Nanami was putting out, you felt so comfortable. It was the perfect combination that made you want to relish the feeling forever.

The sun was up, which meant you both would be going home soon. You both had been called out on a mission, one that took a bit longer to handle than you both were anticipating. You missed the last train back to Tokyo. Leaving you both stranded in Kawasaki for the night.

Instead of having one of the assistant supervisors drive all the way out to get you, you and Nanami decided to stay at a hotel. God, it was nice: room service, wine, a hot shower. Missing that last train was a reward for the two of you. Nothing more than relaxation and joy. But the moment Nanami pulled you tighter against him, you realized you didn't have your overnight bag.

Meaning you didn't have your makeup.

“Oh no, oh god no.” You whined as Nanami lifted his head.

“What’s wrong?” His groggy voice asked, trying to assess what was going on.

Burying your face in your pillow, you grumbled, cringing as you felt Nanami shift beside you. “I don't have my bag.” The covers move as Nanami props himself up.

“Your overnight bag?”

“Mhmm.”

Silence stretched out. “Did you need something out of it? Aspirin or tampons? I'll go grab you some.” The sincerity of his words made your heart soar. God, Nanami was the best boyfriend.

“No, no, I'm okay.” You shyly turned, swallowing hard. “I just realized you've never seen me without makeup.”

Nanami’s gaze was soft; honey-brown eyes slowly roamed over your face. He took his time, his hand reaching out, knuckles grazing your cheek. It was so gentle and sweet that you pressed yourself against his hand. The warmth spreads to every part of your body.

The bed shifts as Nanami’s hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer. “You are still as stunning in the morning bare-faced as you are all dolled up.” Before you could even think of what to say in response, his lips were on yours.

His lips were warm, like a spring day. You moaned happily, kissing him back as his hands slowly ran down your arms. Breaking the kiss, had you pouting with a displeased groan that shifted into a moan. Those warm lips slowly moved down your face. Nanami was trailing the softest, warmest kisses down your body, over your shoulders and upper arm.

“I want to see all of you.” Hot breath whispered over your skin. “See every part of you, body, mind, and soul in the raw.”

Soft kisses were replaced with gentle nips. The sensation had you arching your back as Nana crawled on top of you. His morning wood was pressing against your hip. It felt like you were melting into the mattress as the once-comfortable room suddenly became too warm. The need to get naked grew stronger and stronger.

“Kento~”

He didn't respond. He was too busy being love-drunk off of you. His fingers, lips, and teeth slowly mapped out every part of your body. Nanami’s actions left you a squirming mess underneath him. One that he was so pleased to see and feel.

Only once you were gasping for air, gripping his shirt, begging him for more, did Nanami finally pull back, taking his shirt off. “Every inch of you is the most beautiful thing that's graced this world, Y/N.” You sat up, pulling him into a starved kiss as he took your shorts off. Limbs entangling as he gently laid you down.

And yes, you missed the morning train. . .and the afternoon train. . .poor Ijichi had to pick you up.

[anakur]

Cuddling him would include... (Featuring The Main 4 & Butters)

🌹| A/N : My first post ^^ I'm glad to have finished it though I am a tad bit worried over my characterisation of them. Guess that's just how I am haha

🥀| Warning(s) : slight nsfw implications- mostly parents' assumptions, but also during the last part for Kenny

Stan ⋆ ˚｡⋆🎧˚

Listening to music. Sharing earbuds or earphones. Especially when his parents are arguing (or if Randy is just... Being Randy)

You two are cuddling, as you look up, you see Stan with his earbud in hand, listening to the noise outside his room. He sighs before turning to you. He presses you closer to him as he turns up the volume on his phone. You wrap your arms around his neck and he closes his eyes, relaxing at your touch.

Smells like weed. Because,, Tegridy Farms.

Wears his beanie when you're cuddling. You take it off and he gets grumpy. Kiss him on his forehead in conciliation and watch as he gets that stupid Charlie Brown grin on his face.

The first few times you cuddled in Stan's room, he cleaned it up beforehand but after the first few times, he stops. Not to say his room is dirty, just, you may find an empty bottle on his nightstand, some clothes tucked underneath his bed or a hoodie draped over his desk chair, threatening to fall.

At some point Stan may get up to move it but it only ends up falling, so he leaves it on the floor. Next time you come over its still there (he swears he picked it up eventually and it just fell again)

The first time you two were cuddling he spent the majority of the cuddling session with his face pressed into the crook of your neck or your shoulder. You found it sweet. He was flustered, because in actuality he was trying to fight the urge to vomit. Eventually he has to excuse himself for a moment. Felt he messed up and ruined the moment, but his heart skipped a beat when he came back to see you waiting for him with open arms.

Kyle ⋆ ˚｡⋆📚˚

He finds drooling to be a bit gross, even though he knows it's not something you control. In the beginning of your relationship he will wake you up to tell you that you were drooling. Reasurres you it's fine when he watches you get embarrassed. Later on in the relationship, he'll just grab a tissue from the box on his nightstand and wipe it off himself.

It's what he keeps his tissue box there for. nothing else

Has to keep the door open, because his mom tells him to. Although his dad is a bit more lenient about it.

Sometimes when you forget about it, Ike will come into the room- having announced himself by a short knock at the door- as he stares at his phone and simply tells you:

" Mom says to keep the door open. "

Ike then proceeds to leave it wide open

" Close it halfway. "

He's already gone.

Kyle's the one who gets up to do it, leaving the door ajar. Everytime. Doesn't make you get up. If you ask for a glass of water, he'll also get it for you (and give you a forehead kiss). Don't abuse that power though, once you overuse it he'll start making you get it yourself.

Will not fall asleep when you're playing with his hair, but, he does feel very comfortable in that position

Says very sweet mushy stuff to you and gets embarrassed when he realizes you were awake the whole time. He trails off and stops talking.

Pushes you away playfully if you ask why he stopped or tell him to continue talking.

If you're watching a movie and cuddling, with a blanket covering you both, especially if it's dark outside and the lights are turned off, Sheila eyes you suspiciously when walking by. Staring particularly onto the blanket on your laps, covering you both waist down.

Kenny ⋆ ˚｡⋆🗑˚

Finds it cute when you drool. He'll chuckle and wipe it off.

Keeps his door closed. Hates it when you can hear his parents arguing. He would offer to share his ear phones but they're not in the greatest condition. Electric sparks flying and exposed wires. So, bringing your own pair would be very much appreciated.

Whispers mushy things to you when you're asleep. When he notices you're awake, he switches it up and starts saying dumb things just to make you laugh. Hears you give in and start giggling and he grins, acting surprised as if he had no idea you were awake.

When Kenny's household becomes too loud, he'll take you outside and lay on the grass together. Makes up constellation names.

It's the middle of the night while you're both sprawled out on the bed. You're sleeping and he's awake. He listens to the sounds outside the window and your breathing. When he hears you moving, he looks over and gently pets your hair, telling you to go back to sleep. His voice quiet and gentle.

be prepared for waking up and having Kenny casually mention he got morning wood

Cartman ⋆ ˚｡⋆🍫˚

Liane asks him to keep the door open but she's very lenient about it, by simply mentioning it as she walks by Cartman's room.

Also will bring you two snacks

Cartman is the type of person to tell his mom you're hungry, when, in fact, he was the one who suggested getting something to eat.

Flabbergasted when his mom turns to you asking what'd you'd like to eat.

Tries to cut you off, suddenly switching to 'we'

Smells like food.

Unlike the other guys he does NOT clean up his room beforehand. I believe however, his room is clean for the most part.

You had to nag him to clean his bed. Yes, his sheets are regularly washed and his bed gets made (both by Liane), but he eats in his bed. Which leaves some crumbs, that stay even after he 'sweeps them off' with his hands.

Imagine Liane's utmost surprise to see her darling son, Eric, on the bathroom floor, with his bed and pillow covers, squinting at the instruction on his phone. He mutters some swear words, before finally turning to her for help.

So the next time you come over, he had cleaned his bed hours before you came and restrained himself from doing anything on it until you arrived.

Actually gets pissed when you don't mention or even notice how clean his bed suddenly has become.

On second thought, he realized you probably will not praise him on a such a basic household task. But c'mon at least acknowledge it.

Lets you lay on him, sometimes.

He's watching some dumb videos on his phone as he had gracefully allowed you to lay your head on his shoulder.

You ask him to turn down the volume.

Fights the urge to not be a dick about it, and not raise the volume.

Begrudgingly he reaches for his headphones.

Once you fall asleep, he starts rubbing your back slowly. Immediately yeets his hand away when you wake up.

Doesn't want to deal with you waking up, even if he himself had also been awake.

" Eric... " you mumble, opening your eyes.

" Go to sleep. " he pushes your head down, as gently as you'd expect him to, onto the pillow.

" But I want water... "

" No. "

" ... What do you mea-"

" If you drink water you'll end up pissing yourself while you sleep. In my bed. "

"... That's not how it works. "

He then proceeded to press you into his chest.

" Fucking sleep. "

Butters ⋆ ˚｡⋆🌼˚

His parents definitely have him leave the door of his bedroom wide open. Not just slightly open. No, fully open. So, the cuddling has to be kept at a modest level.

Just sitting next to each other with some space in the middle between you both.

If his dad walks in, he'll stare at you, as to make sure nothing suspicious is going on.

If his mom walks in, she might remark how nice it is to have you over, asking if you two are comfortable and reminding to keep the doors open.

Holds your hand. Either your fingers are intertwined or he plays with your fingers as you talk, or just lay there in comfortable silence.

Falls asleep first, despite his attempts at staying awake, to make sure you sleep peacefully. However Butters is the one who wakes up first, so you just have him staring at you for a couple of seconds before realizing it may have come across as creepy and apologising for it immediately.

When you traced your finger along the scar on his face, he like squeezed his eyes shut at first. But then next time you ask before doing so, and he relaxes into it. Now he melts when you do it.

Would brush his fingers through your hair, no matter its length. But if his fingers get stuck he freaks out and thinks its his fault.

[iisasxia]

would you ever think about writing for shigaraki? Or one of the villains? I love the heroes but there's just something about this skinny man when he's half naked that makes me FERAL.

Yes I do !! Ironically my favorite mha villain IS Shigaraki, he is soooooo fine. Especially in the episode where they break him out of the glass tube and he was in that black suit. I had to rewind 🤭

So so happy to write for this man, thank you bby for the ask 💗

- author

Tomura never wears a shirt. It’s so common and normal to see him walking around in sweats, a pair of headphones wrapped around his neck, and those stupid fuzzy sandals Dabi got him one year for Christmas. (He burned his other shoes so he has to wear them)

It was an unusual hot day and everyone was melting, you were sprawled out on the couch, phone in hand while groaning at the thought of even moving a finger. You were wearing small jean shorts, a tank top and your hair was up out of your face. You were scrolling on tik tok before getting a notification..

[Tomu]: hey

[Tomu]: bring me a water

[Tomu]: please.

You groaned before getting up off the couch to bring him a drink from the fridge, he had been in his room for hours on end. I mean to be fair it did have the best air conditioning but nothing to as stopping him from getting it himself. You opened the fridge and grabbed the water, it was freezing. You looked around before opening it and taking a small sip, it’s not like he’d notice anyways, and plus you’re doing him the favor of bringing it to him.

You close it tight before exhaling in sudden relief at the cold sensation spreading throughout your body. You stretched your arms above your head, now revealing your pelvic bone before reaching for the drink and heading to his room.

You knock on the door.

“Im coming in.” It was good to give warnings , one time you walked in on him changing and weren’t able to look him in the eye for about a week. He didn’t mind whether you knocked or not, it’s not like he had anything to hide.

You open the door and to no surprise he’s sitting and rotting away in his gaming chair. The room was cold though, it was so nice.

You take in his messy figure, his toned arms flexing as he pressed the buttons on the controller, his jawline and side profile looked amazing from this angle, and his-

“Thanks.”

The response broke you out of your daze as you let go of the water bottle after having placed it on his desk.

“Yeah no problem” and you look at a poster on the wall that you could have sworn to of recognized when you went out to the mall last week.

What you didn’t notice was him taking in your figure. Since it was hot you wore a tank top with nothing to cover underneath.. and since his room was cold, it prominently revealed your nipples to his field of his vision. Now he was fully looking at you. Your little shorts, the slight sweat between your thighs, how your shirt is slightly rising up, the sweat dripping from your jawline and how your hair is a bit messy but cute.

You look back at him and he’s just playing the game.

“Did you need anything else ?” you place your hand on your hip as you talk to him.

He shook his head.

“Okay well I’ll be out there if you need me.” And with that you turn away and head to the door, until a sudden tug against your belt loop on your shorts pulls you back.

“Tomura ??” You turn to look at him with furrowed eyebrows only for them to sprint up when you realize what he was going to say.

“Did you take a sip of the water ?”

his voice was low, it didn’t indicate that he was mad, just curious.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding your head..

But before you could explain his tall figure was now hovering over you. Your back pressed against his desk and his hands on both sides. On any other day he would’ve let you walk away with it but he was in a bad mood, especially with this heat.

“Tomura-?“

his hand on your hip tugging you close to him was enough to make your knees weak, this was a different side of him, and the dirty smirk on his face was only making the heat between your legs grow.

—

“Since you wanna take a sip of my drink I might as well give you a real reason to be hot.”

[aweina]

HI CAN I REQUEST MIKE SCHMIDT X FEM READER?? MAYBE SOME FLUFF I JUST- UGH I NEED HIM. anyways. PLEASE? THANKS! REMEMBER TO HYDRATE!

ᥫ᭡. winter heart , mike schmidt ( fluff )

you and me, hugging ? if you want …

tags fem + gn reader. pining. friends to ( redacted ). mike tries to be a meanie but he can’t. special abby cameo.

“cold?”

mike quirks a brow at your shivering form, the lack of warm layers and no sign of any other winter accessory made him visibly cringe.

“o-obviously.” your teeth clattered with heavy pronunciation, clinging to yourself for some ounce of warmth. “t-the forecast are liars, i’ll never trust them a-again.”

he huffs a laugh at your retort, his breath condensing into the winter air — swirling aimlessly into the filtered blue atmosphere. mike was extremely amused, he could tell you that. during the coldest seasons, you decided to only wear a sleeved shirt constructed with the thinnest fabric he’s ever seen.

you play dumb games, you win stupid prizes. he believes wholeheartedly.

at the same time, he grew concerned. your reddened nose sniffled in the cold air, shakily clinging onto your shirt like it could get any warmer. your brows were furrowed in discomfort, the moisture of your lips stolen by the crisp breeze. even in this condition, you stayed with him to watch abby — who was bustling in the frozen playground with her new friends.

instinctively, mike tugs down the zipper of his oversized fleece hoodie — the bulky layers he wore combating the bitter cold. he turns to your shivering form, suddenly feeling shy about his decision, but seeing you in such a vulnerable state for his own sake made him feel guilty. mike bites back a self-encouraging sigh, shaking his head in an attempt to get rid of the fluttering feeling inside his core. with his gloved hands snug in his pockets, he widens his arms to open his furry jacket — coughing dumbly to catch your attention.

you turned to him and tilted your head in confusion, darting your eyes towards his flushed face to the baggy graphic t-shirt and the oversized jacket that cling to his body, somehow it felt like a mockery to your cold state.

“haha … nice jacket, i know you’re much more warmer and smarter than me. you don’t have to rub it in.” you jested through a freezing hiss, rolling your eyes at his attempt to push your buttons.

“w-what? wait no! just come here, please.” his voice sounded a bit more desperate than he intended it to be, but he usually doesn’t offer this treatment to anybody.

still confused, you shuffled towards him with caution. you silently gasped when you got closer, feeling the comforting warmth radiating off his body.

mike gulps nervously, feeling your panting chest grazing his. it was a strange feeling, how in sync your heartbeats were — they danced in the rhyme together, the tempo seemed to quicken as you approached him closer and closer. finally, he finds the courage to wrap his fleece jacket around your quivering body, hesitantly hugging you through the thick fabric.

your eyes widen in realization, he’s hugging you. mike schmidt is hugging you. he felt so warm and cuddly, all the lousy layers of old t-shirts he forced himself to wear felt like laying on soft pillows. the fur threaded in his jacket brushed its warmth against your frozen skin. but the thing making you burn up was the fact you’re so close to mike, shyly wrapping your arms around his frame while your head is nearly tucked into the nape of his neck — but you hesitated to go any further.

“are you warm?” mike’s voice was gentle in your ear, the flush of his body melted your bitter coldness in an instant.

you slightly nodded, still a little disoriented from this predicament.

feeling more comfortable, mike takes his gloved hand out of his pocket, assuring your stiffness as he petted your head, guiding you to rest in the nape of his neck. his warm pulse tapped softly against your forehead. you could hear his life line — every breath he takes. this felt like heaven, being held in mike’s arms. then he’s not protesting, his melting grip was tighter — protective like someone could snatch you away from his arms. he loved the way you smelled, delicate perfume and fresh laundry. if he could keep this close and take in your scent, he would if it wasn’t so creepy for him to do.

there was a comfortable silence between the two of you. the childlike chants and laughter faded into the background, the bitter cold didn’t feel so bad anymore. it felt like your hearts were clinging onto each other, feeding the aching starvation of touch and warmth. he needed this, you needed it too.

“are you guys finally dating now?”

a youthful voice forced you both out of a love trance, eyes widened and heads snapped towards the smaller figure. it was abby, a huge grin on her flushed face — half covered with a comically large knitted scarf.

“abby … don’t.” mike winced at her bluntness, but he still held you in a warm embrace.

you allowed him to cling onto you, equally flustered at her words but much more comfortable, even playful at the weird circumstances.

“i’m still patiently waiting for your brother to ask me out.” you teased the younger schmidt, earning an excited giggle and an exasperated sigh from the older schmidt.

maybe he should’ve just offered you his jacket if you were going to embarrass him in front of his younger sister.

add. note : hope you enjoyed some fluff anon !! and thank you, stay hydrated too because we’re all thirsty for grumpy security guard mikey ㅜ ㅜ

[clawsdevour]

𓈒 ❀ᮬlev bf hcs

wc: 0.5k content warning: fluff, slight smut, aged up, post-time skip, not proodread, my shitty writing

₊ ˚ ⊹ ᡣ;.. 🐈‍⬛

-Lev, the type of boyfriend to hard launch you and post you all the time on his personal social media accounts with cute silly captions. Lev likes to do this to stop paparazzi from spreading rumors since he fears losing your relationship to stupid false gossip that's being spread around.

-Lev, the type of boyfriend to LOVE seeing you wear the clothing pieces he gifts you. He'd choose specific ones because he could see you wearing them. His sister Alisa would also love you as much as he does and also gift you luxury goods she thinks you'd like as well.

-Lev, the type of boyfriend to love giving you surprise hugs, especially back hugs. He enjoys seeing your shocked and surprised faces whenever his long arms wrap around you to pull you towards him

-Lev, the type of boyfriend to love eating the food you cook. He's a big back and an impatient one. When you're cooking in the kitchen, he'd walk by and whenever your back is towards him he'd snack on the ingredients and run off.

-Lev, the type of boyfriend to absolutely take you out to travel with him for his shoots. Especially since he doesn't want you to be away from him for so long, he also finds this fun, being with his soulmate in every other city or country. He loves exploring cute restaurants and cafes with you before his scheduled appointments.

-Lev, the type of boyfriend to always call you when he even just slightly misses you. You'd often answer his facetimes to him being in a chair getting his hair or makeup done. If you don't pick up, he's bound to text you multiple times. For example he'd text you like: HELLO?? WHERE ARE YOU?? I'M GETING MY HAIR DONE RN AND I MISS YOU :(((

-Lev, the type of boyfriend to completely wow over your parents due to his physical attributes. A tall half Russian man whose photo is all over Japan, for luxury goods. Your parents treat him like he's special until he opens his mouth. His silliness and humble personality completely loosens up your parents. Your parents definitely talk about how good looking and how his personality is so fun after he leaves.

-Lev, the type of boyfriend to have you bent over with the dress he picked for you to wear pulled up to droop down where your arch is. He's mumbling under his breath how good you look and how crazy he's gotten just looking at you while roughening up his pace even more.

-Lev, the type of boyfriend to be standing while he fucks you against the cold glass that on looks the whole city. His strong hands claw into you while he thrusts up. He enjoys looking at the prettiest view of them all, you.

-Lev, the type of boyfriend to bathe with you. He'd love to just sit with you in the tub and unwind in the warm bath while talking to you. He'd also shampoo and condition your hair for you. Under the sheets, he'd just love to spoon with you until you both snooze off.

masterlist here

[pastelsicheng]

never punctual [l.mk]

summary : a study date with your superhero best friend turns into a real date with your superhero boyfriend

pairing : mark x gn!reader

genre : spider-man AU, bffs to lovers AU, fluff

warnings : mentions of an injury and blood caused by glass, mentions of anxiety

word count : ~ 2.56 k

author’s note : in honour of mark releasing 200, i have reposted this. enjoy :) also it’s not explicitly said but i wrote this with the idea that mark lee is spider-man in toronto

     Ever since the stupid spider bite, Mark could never be punctual. 

     It’s not that he became imprudent—he always tried his best to make it to places earlier than he was supposed to, because constantly being late throughout elementary school and being forced to stay after school for detention with rude teachers had given him anxiety. Rather, he always found himself becoming occupied with saving something or someone. 

     Back when he lived his life in blissful ignorance, he would have never stopped for any of these people. Now though, his moral compass had taken over. He’d learned quickly that whatever he’d be learning or hearing at school was not as important as saving and helping a civilian. Especially when he knew how corrupt and useless the police were. 

     That being said, Mark was late. 

     Mask covering his face, he swung past condos and corporate buildings. The wind rushed past his face as he flew across the city. The late evening sky was yellow as the sun was preparing to set, the light sparkling against the lake. Oftentimes, he took time to enjoy the view. Nothing could beat the beauty of his hometown. This time, though, he didn’t notice anything. All he could think about was that he was late.

     Late to meeting you for your study date. 

     “Come on,” Mark mutters to himself. He pushes himself harder, putting more force into his swings in an attempt to speed himself up. The strain is felt in his upper arms, but he tells himself that it’s punishment for losing track of time. 

     Why’d he always have to go and make a fool out of himself in front of you? You already knew about him being Spider-man and that he was often late because he was out doing superhero things. Regardless, he still felt anxious and embarrassed having to face you each time he was running behind schedule. Maybe it was the conditioning he went through in elementary school—after all, Mrs. Addison really scared the hell out of him and made him cry every time he was late. Or maybe he just hated the way he presented himself to you. No one wants to date someone who's constantly late to plans. No one would want to date Mark. Especially not even you. 

     It was bad enough that he could barely hold in his feelings every time he was in your presence. He was lucky that you were oblivious when it came to romantic feelings (or perhaps you just didn’t want to embarrass him, but Mark liked to think that you were just oblivious to how he felt). 

     Why was he such a mess around you?

     The sudden increase in speed and the jumbled thoughts of you in his head have Mark stumbling as he lands by a trash bin in an alley. He loses his footing and falls roughly onto all fours. The sharp pebbles and rocks of the asphalt dig into his palms and knees. 

     “Fuck,” he hisses in pain. Sitting up, he looks at his hands. A shard of glass is wedged in his palm. Glancing down, he notices that he fell right on top of broken glass. Just his luck. 

     Mark stands upright carefully, and pulls the pieces of glass from his skin. Luckily he’s wearing his suit underneath his outfit, so his knees are safe from any harm. His hands on the other hand…

     He pulls off his backpack from his shoulders and rips off his mask, shoving it inside. He also pulls out a small pack of tissues and pulls a couple out. He wipes the blood on his palms, presses and holds the tissue carefully on the wound, then zips his bag. It should do for now. He could run to the bathroom and wrap his hand up once he got to you. 

     Taking off once again, Mark sprints across the sidewalk, dodging people left and right. It's not until he reaches the community library that he finally pauses to catch his breath. His heart is pounding against his chest and his breaths are fast and heavy. Was he dying?

     After being bitten, Mark's stamina and physical abilities had increased greatly. Exercise like this was nothing to him. In fact, on good days, he was able to run 50 km without breaking a sweat. Why was his heart pounding after just a bit of running?

     He knew the answer (he was nervous because of you), but he didn't want to acknowledge it. Mark was not a silly middle schooler who went crazy because of a crush. 

     “Be still, my heart,” he says quietly to himself. He makes his way to the bench outside the entrance and sits down. 

     His therapist had recommended in his last session that he try doing meditation and breathing techniques anytime he felt anxious. Now was a better time than ever to test it out. 

     Closing his eyes, Mark rests his hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat and slowly takes deep breaths, trying to calm his heart down. 

     Inner peace. Find your inner peace and meditate. Deep breath in… Deep breath out… In… Out… In… Out… In—

     “What are you doing, Mark?”

     Instantly his heart rate picks up again. So much for inner peace and meditation. 

     “Oh!” Mark jumps up from the bench at the sight of you. Your backpack is slung over one shoulder, and you've changed your outfit from what you had worn to school. Not that Mark noticed and kept track of what you wore on a daily basis. He wasn't that smitten with you. “Haha, hi, (Y/N). How long have you been waiting here for?” He rubs the back of his neck nervously.

     “I just came. What were you doing? Are you okay?” you ask in concern. You reach a hand out to Mark's face, an attempt to see whether he is feverish, but Mark slaps your hand away harshly. 

     “I'm fine!” he says a bit too loudly. A couple of passersby glance at the two of you. 

     “Okay…” you say cautiously, clutching your arm where he had hit you (instant regret hits Mark when he sees that. Why did he hit you??? He mentally slaps himself). You're unconvinced with his answer. He's definitely not okay. His skin is flushed pink, and his hand… is that blood? 

     You reach out for his hand, and this time, Mark doesn't swat you away. You peel away the tissues that he had clenched in his palms and see a deep cut. 

     “I'm fine,” Mark says. He isn't, but he didn't want you to worry. His abilities also included healing super fast, so his hand would be as good as new in a few days time anyway. 

     “Who did you fight that your hands are bleeding?”

     “Oh, uh… just somebody,” he lies. Mark feels embarrassed, he's sure his ears are red by this point. Imagine having to lie that you got into a fight. Most people lied saying their injuries were self-inflicted by their clumsiness. Mark lied that he really did fight someone. “I'm fine, (Y/N), really.”

     Your stare is intense as you look at the injury. Your fingers seek to trace around it, but they linger millimeters away in fear of hurting him even more. 

     “You should wash it at least. You'll get an infection. I don't think Spidey powers can save you from an infection.”

     At the mention of his alias, Mark shushes you loudly. He glances around to make sure that no one overheard you.

     “Don't say stuff like that out loud,” he scolds. 

     You roll your eyes. “As if people would suspect you. Every Spider-man face drawing is of a white person. You're safe, Mark.”

     “You can never be too careful.”

     “You say that, yet your hand is bleeding.” You squeeze his wrist and Mark flinches, pulling himself back from you. His super strength gave him the ability to basically be immune to any teasing punches or hits from his friends, but a single touch from you has each individual cell burning up. A squeeze from anyone else would be barely noticeable, but from you it feels like pins pricking his skin. In a good way.

     “I'll go wrap it up,” Mark says. He knows you’ll insist on helping him clean and wrap the wound, but he also knows that he won’t be able to handle you holding his hand for longer than a few seconds. “Go get us a table.”

     He doesn't wait for your response, walking through the automatic sliding doors and heading towards the men's washroom. 

     It takes him around five minutes to clean up his wound and bandage it properly. Oftentimes, Mark didn’t bother taking care of his wounds beyond keeping them clean. He had superpowers now, which meant there was no need to worry about reopening any injuries. In fact, his skin was already healing itself. He only did these things to appease you.

     Oh, the things he did just for you. 

     After making sure that he didn’t look like an embarrassed tomato, he exits the bathroom and goes in search of you. He sees you standing at the back of the library waving your arm to grab his attention. 

     “Hey,” he greets you again. He sets his backpack on the table and pulls out his calculus textbook and notebook. He feels your heavy stare on him, and turns his head slowly to see you scrutinizing him. 

     “Are you really okay?” you ask. You cautiously take his hand in yours. The bandage was sloppily wrapped around his hand so you untuck it, fixing the cotton balls and tightening the gauze. Mark can feel his ears turning red. The contact of your skin on his makes his hand feel like it’s on fire. He doesn’t pull away from your touch, though, because he feels guilty about slapping your hand away earlier. You would definitely pester him with more questions if he tried to avoid you. 

     “I’m okay. I heal fast, don’t worry.”

     “Hold this,” you instruct. He takes hold of the gauze and you go digging in your backpack for something. You pull out a safety pin and take Mark’s hand back in yours, pinning the fabric so that it couldn’t become undone. You pat his hand softly. “There.”

     “Thanks.” His right leg bounces in an attempt to release all the pent up energy as soon as your touch leaves him. Mark uses his good hand to run his hands through his hair. 

     “I know your powers help you heal quickly, but you should still take care of yourself. The radioactive stuff probably has side effects as it is. You never know when something bad might happen.”

     “Aren’t you an optimist?”

     You smile at his words. “I mean it. You never know what can happen. You should be careful.”

          “I will. Now let’s study.” Mark can’t hold your gaze for longer than a few seconds. His eyes keep flitting away to look anywhere besides your face. He hopes that if he can get you to pay attention to your own work, maybe his heart would slow down a bit. 

     You don’t even open your backpack, though.

     Mark always made his feelings obvious. You’d figured out a while back that he had a crush on you after he had accidentally sent you a message on Instagram. He’d deleted it immediately, but it was too late. You had already seen the notification. 

     Since then, you enjoyed teasing Mark. Touching his hand, and saying things that made him a shy and blubbering mess. It was also your attempt at showing him that you felt the same way, but Mark was dumb. 

     “Do I make you nervous?” you ask. 

     “Huh?” Mark turns to look at you, though his eyes don’t meet your own. “No, you don’t. Why would I feel nervous around you?” 

     He laughs. Nervously, of course. Did you know how he felt? 

     “You’re acting like you have a crush on me or something. Do you like me?”

     Mark freezes. “W-what?”

     You shuffle your chair closer to him and lean forward, a mischievous glint in your eye. Mark instinctively leans back. “So you don’t have feelings for me? Your heart doesn’t speed up if I do this?” 

     You press a kiss to his cheek, a quick peck that lasts barely a second. For Mark though, it feels like at least a minute. An hour even. He could sit there staring into the air and replaying the moment for days if the library didn’t have curfew. He can feel his body heating up and the blush rising to his cheeks.

     “Woah, what are you doing?” he chokes out. He turns to look around nervously, hoping no one was paying any attention to him acting a fool. 

     You don’t give him an answer, your hands going to his chest and feeling his heart thumping loudly. Mark flinches and stands abruptly, his chair making a loud noise when it scrapes backwards. A few people turn to look at him, and he feels even more embarrassed. 

     You tug him back down on his seat. “You okay? Your heart’s racing.” There’s a teasing smile on your face, and Mark scrunches his nose at you. ‘Cute,’ you think to yourself. 

     Mark clears his throat. His attempt at trying to brush past everything and act normal. “I’m fine. We should study.” 

     You sigh, fed up with his (un)intentional ignorance. “Mark, I’m trying to tell you I like you too. Why do you want to study so bad?”

     “What?” For the first time since he set foot in that library, he looks you dead in the eyes. 

     “I like you. I have feelings for you. I want to date you. How else do you want me to put it? Je t’aime, Mark. Je—”

     “I get it,” he cuts you off. “Are you serious? Or are you playing me—”

     “Do you want me to kiss you on the lips this time?”

     Mark’s taken aback by how brave you are. Why couldn’t he be like you and confess how he felt too?

     “No need for that. I mean– you can, I would like that– but not right now. Not that I don’t want to kiss you– I just– I’ll shut up,” he sputters. His face is burning up and he rubs his cheeks to try and cool them down. Mark feels like burying himself alive. Why’s he so freaking awkward? 

     Despite his negative rizz, you giggle. “Do you wanna get outta here and go on an actual date?” you ask. “So I can ask you to be my boyfriend properly?”

     A noise ranging between a scream and a squeak falls out of Mark’s mouth. More people turn to stare, some even giving him the stink eye. 

     Calm down. Deep breaths. Don’t get too excited, Mark. 

     “O-okay,” he manages to say.

     You grin and grab your backpack. “I’ll wait for you outside so you can calm yourself down. You’re as red as your mask, Spidey.” 

     He didn’t have to look into a mirror to know that he was flushed red. Mark watches as you flash him a peace sign then turn your back to him. There’s a skip in your step as you get further away. 

     Mark was never punctual. You’d even beaten him to asking him out on a date. But for once, the stupid spider bite had done him some good. It had gotten him you.

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: female reader, emotional abuse, conditioning, hinted loss of voice, objectification, degradation, Adam is his own warning

Today you had to scream. You don't even remember why, perhaps you saw a bug or a spider, something trivial and meaningless, something that shouldn't have been terrifying, not to you - not after everything you've been through.

Yet you have to scream - it is but a physical reaction. And then... nothing. Nothing comes out. Absolutely no sound. Not a murmer, not even a gasp. You feel his hands wrap around you from behind - at first you think that he has covered your mouth, that he has forced his fingers deep inside your throat just like he has done so many times in the past. But no, he's simply hugging you - resting his head against your shoulder.

"Ssh, baby, it's fine. I'll take care of it." Adam whispers before his fist comes crashing down onto the poor little insect, splashing the black - green insides all over the table. You almost felt bad for your initial panic - by now you should know that to him the only answer is violence, always. You have single - handedly brought this fate onto the innocent unsuspecting animal, and all because of your stupid fear.

And even with the guilt, you still want to scream - but this time out of pity. Regret. Out of bitter realization.

"Aww, darling, don't cry." Your captor coos gently, caressing your hair. For a second you can see his long fingers flash before your eyes before they rub your sticky tears into your skin. It's weirdly invasive - you feel naked despite the layers upon layers of clothes you have on. "You know what happens when you cry-" He suddenly grips your chin, squeezing it roughly, but that's hardly a surprise. He loves to see his own fingerprints on your skin. "Don't you?"

You nod. You wish you wouldn't have to. You wish you were still the same naive girl you were a few months ago - a few moments ago, when you could still pretend you didn't understand what was happening. What he was trying to do to you, to your body, little by little; one step at a time.

"Of course you know. My clever girl." His grip softens, but never wavers, and he kisses your hair with feverish content. "You know crying leads to whimpers, and whimpers lead to-" The man smirks in that nasty perverse way you've grown to despise, reaching to fix the bulge in his trousers. "Well, aside from getting my cock fuckin' hard, they sometimes make your throat tighten. It tightens so much you think you're going to choke." His eyes return to you, black like the winter sky. "Isn't that right, baby?"

You're forced to nod again, a fresh new wave of warm tears soaking your collar as you try to ignore the very feeling he's describing to you.

"And then you need to make it unclench, so you speak - well, attempt to." Adam runs a single cold digit across the length of your neck, stopping only to poke at the dent in the middle of your collarbone. "And we both know that's a big no - no, right, baby?" He kisses your neck, a contrast to the cruel, humiliating condescension in his deep, guttural voice. It makes your stomach turn, but you can't do anything. You can't sob. You can't even shout for help - not anymore. "No, no, no." He continues, explaining it as if you're just a silly child. "Worthless little sluts who break their owners' hearts don't get to use big adult words. They remain silent, to be seen and not heard."

He keeps touching you - that's the worst part. He keeps kissing you, embracing you, holding you close just like a lover would. It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. It makes you want to cling onto the only creature close to you, even if it's just a monster wearing a human mask - a monster set to hurt you with everything it possesses. A monster, set to build you up every time it breaks you down.

"This little mouth of yours has only one use now - to keep my dick nice and warm." Adam mumbles, keeping you in place once it all gets too much. You struggle against him until you tire yourself out. You're dizzy. You're starving. You haven't slept in days - so realistically you don't stand a chance. But fighting means life. Fighting means you might have lost your voice, but you haven't lost your will. Your humanity. "So go ahead, doll. Entertain me. Scream for me."

And for once you want to obey him - you want to scream from deep within your lungs, so you open your mouth, and then you close it, pretending that your voice could break the fragile glass and reach someone somewhere who cares.

The silence is deafening.

[osamucide]

⊹ LOOKIN’ FOR THE ONE THAT WANTS TO MAKE MY NAME A TATTY!

cw: multifandom (bsd+jjk), suggestive, name tattoos!!! all around questionable? feral and whipped and lovesick and possessive and stupid stupid hot men

reid: down bad for this concept and these mfers anyways stream aggy by coco and clair clair

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Who would get your name tattooed on them?

This SCREAMS GOJO. He’s so shameless—he’d get your name tattooed on his asscheek if you asked. He’d let you do it. He’d let it be Comic Sans for the meme. Not because he doesn’t take you seriously—quite the opposite, actually! His six eyes know he won’t ever regret this—he loves you so much and there’s hardly anything in the world he wouldn’t do to put a smile on your face even if it’s dumb. But really, tell him to be for real—suggest along his bicep in a pretty script font and consider it done <3

SUKUNA’S probably going to do this under one condition—he gets to mark you as his too, and this does not necessarily mean you also get a tattoo. But let’s say you do! I think he wants yours between your tits on your sternum running vertical, and he’ll probably get his in the exact same place—exact same font, exact same color. . .there, or down his spine, or if he’s feeling especially soft the day of the appointment, across his Achilles tendon, for obvious reasons—don’t make him say it.

If this screams anyone else on this list, it’s TOJI. He won’t even hesitate; he’s not exactly the most responsible guy around, but you like him, and he thinks you’re perfect—why the hell shouldn’t he have your name wrapped around his upper arm like a cuff, especially if it means your eyes light up and you flash him that gorgeous smile? Just don’t be too surprised when you find his baby mother’s name haphazardly covered up/half removed somewhere else on him.

I can see NANAMI doing this a few years into marriage, maybe, but doing it nonetheless. Look at him—he’s the dictionary definition of a keeper, and this is hardly any different to him than never taking off his wedding ring (and believe me, once you’ve got him on lock I mean he never takes it off). Matching ones would be especially alluring to him—you’re his one and only, and he hardly gives a thin and subtle sans-serif tattoo of your name on his upper thigh a second thought. What’s more is he’s enamored with kissing the spot where you get his name <3

This may or may not be me pushing my tattooed CHUUYA agenda but whatever. I think he’d be SO down for this. He’d probably make a little date out of it—drive you to the nicest tattoo shop in Yokohama under the guise of wanting to pay for whatever piece you want on yourself—tattoo or piercing—and sit patiently while you get it done, and then ‘decide last-minute’ that he’ll get one too, what the hell, and tell you not to look until it’s finished. Some elegant, masculine script font behind his ear that’s visible when he pulls his hair back <3

TACHIHARA is so grounded in what he loves. I’m 100% willing to bet he has a tattoo for his brother. Your name, too, tattooed on the outside of his shoulder, is like a badge of honor to him—everything he does, he does with you in mind. His only regret is how every uniform he wears covers it; he truly would’ve gotten it on his neck just above his shirt collar or on the back of his hand if it wouldn’t make him so easily identifiable. I can see him liking a traditional calligraphy font—only the prettiest for the love of his life <3

Funny how the man who knows nothing he desires can be permanent gets your name tatted on him. I think the prospect of having your name in his skin forever is just so hot, so romantic to DAZAI—there’s poetry in it however your relationship ends up unfolding. He knows he’s in love with you. In some way or another, no matter how he might end up driving you away, regardless of if you end up hating him for the monster he really is, even if you end up dying hand in hand like he hopes for, you’ll always own a piece of his heart and it’s evident in the pretty serif font he got buzzed across his hipbone <3

I include NIKOLAI in every one of my unhinged headcanons but I just can’t see him being anything less than ENTHUSIASTIC TO BOOT in a relationship. He is all in! You put up with his crazy, you drive away his sadness, you hold him so sweetly—the way you love him truly makes him feel on top of the world. And in true Nikolai fashion, I think he has your name in a font of your choice tatted right over his heart. Kiss it, bite it, trace it, lick it—he loves letting you know he’s all yours <3

[fen-luciel]

Baby fever 2

Here part 1

Another standalone story.

(C/n)= child name

Warning: breastfeeding

You, Qimir and a hungry baby.

I was worried. It was a feeling I hated experiencing, especially in my current physical condition, but I couldn't help it. I stood at the entrance of the cave with my arms crossed under my chest, using a crate as a chair, and wearing one of Qimir's ponchos to shield myself from the biting cold.

The evening hours were terrible because of the wind, and even worse when it poured like this. The sea was so rough that the largest waves nearly touched our ship near the rocks, yet in front of me, on the small stretch of beach that remained, Qimir seemed indifferent to everything.

He had long since removed his rain-soaked shirt, the wind tousling his hair that had escaped from the small ponytail he could manage. A continuous cloud rose from his lightsaber, where the water evaporated on contact with the heat. He continued to train tirelessly, he was probably sweating, although it was impossible to tell with the rain. The sky was dark with clouds, and the early evening hours came quickly during winter. I could barely see his silhouette illuminated in red by his lightsaber. I wanted to call out to him, but there was so much wind, and between that and the crashing waves, it was impossible to make myself heard. I hated seeing him like this, but as much as he denied it, he was angry.

I thought about getting up and trying to signal him when some gurgling interrupted my train of thought.

Turning, I noticed (c/n) waving their little fists in the air from his cradle, the blanket rising as he kicked erratically. I quickly stood up to reach him, not noticing that Qimir had stopped to watch me go back inside. Fortunately, the cave had been equipped with numerous heat lanterns to make the place more comfortable, at least around the cradle.

"My sweet baby, I'm here... mama's here" I cooed and gently picked him up, resting him on my chest. I wrapped the blanket around us to cover him as best as I could and then began to gently rock back and forth.

Everything about parenthood was still new to me. I struggled to understand what they wanted unless it was an obvious situation, but the diaper seemed dry, and his cry was fairly calm, so I was sure he was fine. The last thing we needed was for him to catch a cold, or worse, while we were in such a precarious situation.

I sat on the bed to take off the poncho and, as I laid him back on my chest, realization hit me when I saw him sucking on my shirt. "Of course" I whispered to myself in an irritated tone. Obviously, he was hungry, and I was just too stupid to realize it.

"You should stop being so hard on yourself, we're both stressed out" Qimir's sudden voice made me jump. (c/n) in my arms loudly protested at my movement, and I held back another curse at myself as I tried to distract him with soft, wet kisses on his cheeks.

Thankfully, at least this I knew he loved, and soon enough, they started gurgling happily. I heard Qimir chuckle as he approached us.

He stripped off his soaked clothes and left them near the heat sources, grabbed a towel, and began drying himself quickly. I stole a quick glance at his naked backside, but I held back from commenting, feeling uncomfortable with the idea of doing so in front of our child, even though it was obvious he wouldn't remember.

He slipped on a pair of soft night pants and, with the towel still on his head, took (c/n) into his arms, cooing at him, while I began to remove my shirt and bra.

"My sweet baby is hungry, aren't he?" he cooed, holding them up securely under his arms. "I bet you just want some of mama's breast, I understand, I'm obsessed with it too—"

"Qimir!" I interrupted him with a slight blush on my cheeks. "Stop saying those things." I moved to the head of the bed to lean my back against the wall, where the cushions gave me some relief. Qimir gently handed (c/n) back to me, and I nestled him in my arms close to my chest.

It was adorable to see him open his mouth like a little fish searching for the nipple. It always made me chuckle, and if he wasn't so hungry, I could have watched him for hours.

I moved the nipple, already leaking milk, close to his mouth. He sniffed the air quickly before latching onto the flesh like lightning. The sensation of breastfeeding was something I still had to get used to—the feeling of fullness in the breast that was being emptied and the wet grip of a newborn's mouth on sensitive skin was... peculiar. Certainly something quite different from the grip Qimir gave me anyway.

"Look at him, he takes after his father" he joked, watching us before leaning down on the bed. He gently pushed me forward as he slid between me and the cushions, his muscular arms tight beneath mine, lifting part of the burden of the weight from my arms.

"I don't think so, he doesn't bite" I whispered, feeling almost compelled not to raise my voice too much and break that moment of intimacy.

"As if you don't like it" he whispered in my ear with a husky tone, then moved to kiss the skin behind my ear languidly. The shivers made me tremble slightly as I half-closed my eyes.

"That's right, relax" the kisses moved to my neck.

"You're the one who should relax" the implication of that statement hanging over us.

"I'm fine. We'll be fine. We'll lay low here for a while, and when (c/n) is well-fed and safe for hyperspace travel, we'll go to a secure home." Another kiss on my neck.

"You just need to worry about our baby, I'll take care of the rest." He leaned in more to kiss me on the lips, his eyes half-closed before we separated. I sighed, more relaxed, as I lowered my gaze once more.

(C/n) was eating peacefully, eyes closed, a trickle of milk falling from the side of his mouth, and his little hand opening and closing against my chest. Qimir extended a hand over him, letting him grasp his pinky in a tight grip. We both couldn't help but smile.

At least for the moment, safe from the storm outside, I could pretend that we were all right.

[lomlkenji]

༊*·˚ slip up | riven

★ summary : your boyfriend is being emotional and accidentally told you something he has been dying to told you for weeks.

★ warnings : mature language, mentions of alcohol & drugs

★ word count : 1.3k

── ⋆⋅☆ main masterlist

YOU WERE RUDELY WOKEN UP BY THE ANNOYING SOUND OF KNOCKS IN THE ONCE CALM AND QUIET ATMOSPHERE. You didn't want to wake up. The position you're in was too comfortable.

Maybe my roommates will get it. Please go get it. I'm so not going to get it.

But they didn't, the knocking just became more and more louder.

"Someone go fucking get that!" your roommate lazily scolded.

You did what anyone else did, pretended to be asleep.

"I know some of you lazy asses aren't asleep!" she continued.

"Y/N GO GET THAT!"

"WHY ME?" you whined.

"It's probably you're fucking boyfriend!"

"Fine." you sighed and stood up, thinking that it was probably true, it's not the first time someone came knocking at freaking one in the morning.

You started walking to the front door, not noticing the wall, hitting right at it. "Shit." you cursed, rubbing your forehead.

"Did you just run into a wall?" your other roommate joked quietly.

"Yup." you responded. Your eyes squinted trying to get a better vision of the door, using the moonlight as guidance.

You would open the lights, but that would wake up more people and you're too lazy for that.

The knocking became more aggressive and you whispered yelled, "Coming!"

You got to the front door and opened it slowly and there revealed your drunk and crying boyfriend hanging from his best friend's shoulders.

"BABY!" Riven yelled excitedly which made you come out and cover his mouth while quickly shutting the door.

"What the hell?" you whispered angrily at Sky who was barely holding Riven up.

Riven's eyes stare up adoringly at you. You have your hair in a loose bun, with all some of your hair coming out from different directions. You were wearing a sweater which is actually his, the sight brought a stupid grin on his face.

He thinks you look so gorgeous. An actual angel.

Sky's shoulders slumped in relief at the sight of you and started rambling, "He got drunk and said he will light the school on fire if I didn't bring him to you for cuddles and I said no but he started getting emotional and I just-"

You cover your hands to your face and let out a tired chuckle, "Sky it's okay."

Sky sighed relieved and nodded at Riv, "Come on, I'll take him to your bedroom."

"No it's fine I got it." you assured Sky, he looks so tired and you felt guilty, so you told him to go to his room and get some rest.

He muttered a small thanks and left your dorm going to him.

You looked at Riv and noticed his adoring stare at you, his stare was so intense it brought butterflies to your stomach no matter how tired and mad you are at him.

"Let's go." you said taking his hand and slowly taking him into your room.

Riv followed you like a lost puppy. His eyes were red and his cheeks had some tear stains on them, his hair was in the same condition as yours.

When you reached your room, he wrapped his arms around your waist and snuggled his head in the crook of your neck leaving soft butterfly kisses on your skin.

You shivered, his fingers creating a track of fire everywhere he touched.

Before things could escalate more you turned around meeting his eyes. His hands lazily plant on your waist, yours on his chest.

He gave you one of those signature Riven smirks that makes you weak to your knees.

Before you could say anything he blurted out, "I love you."

Your mind short-circuited for a second. Out of the whole month you two were together, the word love wasn't even used once.

Of course you love him, but you didn't know how to tell him. It's Riven for goodness sake, what if he bailed the second he hears the word love?

"You're drunk Riv, and probably high." you sadly deadpanned. Although you would love to hear those words from him, he's intoxicated and doesn't know what he's saying.

"UGH." he groaned before backing you both up so you guys landed on your bed.

You shook your head, laughing while scooting up in a more comfortable position as Riv puts his head on your stomach, hanging onto you like a sloth.

Your hand involuntarily moved to his head playing with his hair while massaging his scalp.

He let out a hum in approval, immediately the feeling of drowsiness came crashing to him.

After a moment of silence you're sure he's asleep but that proves wrong when he mumbled, "I do love you, you know. But my sober self is too much of a wuss to admit it."

And then he was out like a light.

You laid there, mouth gaping opening and closing still not processing what just happened. You took a deep breath and kissed his head, muttering "I love you too Riv." as you let sleep consume you once again.

° time skip brought to you by terra's weed brownies °

The light of the room blinded Riv's sight the second he moved. The throbbing pain in his head practically screaming at him.

He squinted his eyesight and adjusted his position, noticing the warmth of a body below him.

Please be my girlfriend. Please be my girlfriend. Please be my girlfriend.

He chanted over and over in his head as he lifted himself up. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw that it was indeed his girlfriend.

The sun shined directly on your face, it illuminated all the beautiful features that made Riven's heart skip a beat.

And then the events from last night came rushing to his mind.

Shit. He thought.

"You fucking idiot Riven!" he scolded himself, covering his face with his hands. The hangover is already non-existent with his crisis.

It's not that he's mad that he said I love you, it's because he said it when he had been planning this whole cute little picnic and watching the sunset together this Saturday.

His train of thoughts were interrupted with you scrambling in your sleep.

Riven's mind panicked, but his body just continued to sit there admiring you.

As you fluttered your eyes open, you were met with the longing stare of your boyfriend, once again.

"Morning bub." you said groggily, putting out your arms and circling them around Riven's neck bringing him down with you, so you could cuddle him.

Riven's had butterflies in his stomach with your actions. It sent his mind in a frenzy at how much he thought about how deep in love he actually is.

"Morning babe." he mumbled, a smile on his face as he laid himself closer to you.

"You okay?" you asked him, eyes still closed. "You were a mess yesterday-"

"I love you." he blurted. Fuck it. He thought. Now or never.

Your eyes snapped open as all the remains of sleep left your body. "Are you still drunk?" you asked him dumbfoundedly.

"No." he laughed, watching your reactions.

"You sure?" you questioned him again, a small smile playing on your lips. You thought this was all a dream but when he placed a kiss on your nose, the tingly feeling was there and it made you think otherwise.

He continued to pepper kisses all over your face and said, voice filled with so much love, "Positive darling."

"Well then, I love you too." you teased

Hearing you said that to him made the boy blush profusely. But before he could say anything your roommate interrupted the sweet moment.

"SHUT UP WITH THE LOVEY DOVEY SHIT AND GET READY WILL YA?"

You looked at Riv and you guys broke into a fit of laughter.

Riven thought he could never be happier than in this moment, but with you, happiness is always in the package.

reblog for a kiss!

[the-laughing-lunatic]

uhhhchhdhfhdhd can you maybe do something with the mercs (all 9 if thats cool, but if not then just sniper and medic!!) with a reader that cant sleep so they just. go to their room and ask if they can cuddle with them

(ofc! This was rlly fun to write, I’ll prolly write for all of them later if yall are interested enough :> thx for requesting!)

Medic and Sniper with a reader asking for cuddles (PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

☆Sniper☆

He’s a tad confused when you show up to his camper van

I mean, he’d never turn down cuddling you, that’d be bloody stupid of him

“Why you wanna cuddle with me though, mate? I don’t exactly got the most comfortable sleepin’ conditions.”

“Because it’s you, Mick. If you don’t want to, that's fine.”

“Woah, woah, mate you’re twisting my words. I mean, I’d love that. Uh, come in I guess.”

Bro is so awkward omg- 

Does not know how to initiate physical contact at all so he just kind of stands until you lay down on the bed

The bed in his van is already really small so it forces you two to be even closer

He doesn’t really like being super close, but he likes to have an arm around you to have that connection

Kind of guy that needs noise to sleep, he’d be perfectly content to listen to you ramble about anything as he holds you.

Very light sleeper, def gets up in the middle of the night a few times but he’d be very careful not to disturb your sleep

He really does enjoy holding you and would like to do it more, but will absolutely not unless you ask first

In the morning he’ll fix you coffee and fairy bread to be polite

Really wants to do that again but will absolutely not ask you, way too awkward for that

☆Medic☆

You had gone to Medic’s bedroom to ask him if you two could cuddle…but he wasn’t there

You went to his lab next, where he sat hunched over his desk, frantically scribbling away on some papers. “Ohoho! Hello mein fruend, I didn’t notice you. What do you need?”

“I can’t sleep, can we cuddle?”

“If you wish, you may sit here while I work.”

You’d sit in his lap as he continued to write something or other, with one of his arms wrapped around your waist

It was nice for a bit, he’s big and warm, but it was too uncomfortable to actually try to sleep and you were tired

“Mm, Ludwig, when do you actually go to bed?”

“Ahehe, I think around one or two,” he said sheepishly.

“You think?”

“I normally just pass out at my desk.”

“...okay, we’re going to bed now,” you said, getting off his lap and dragging him to his bed

He’d (begrudgingly) come along after a lot of complaining about how he needed to get the work done

He likes having you lay on top of him, it calms him down to feel the weight of you (he def has a weighted blanket on the rare nights he sleeps in his bed)

Traces your skin and absentmindedly talks about where each of your organs are underneath 

He falls asleep very quickly, you have to take his glasses off and place them on the nightstand (mf wears glasses while he sleeps, they’re crooked as hell)

His grip is so tight even as he sleeps though, you wanna move? Ain’t gonna happen anytime soon.

In the morning bro is always awake before you, no matter how early you get up 

If he’s feeling quirky maybe you’ll get breakfast in bed

(He may put caffeine in your food at dinner so you wont be able to sleep and you’ll cuddle him, until you catch him–)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[captain-hawks]

maybe kuroo + vouyerism for your spicy sleepover weekend?

tetsurou kuroo x f!reader

c: 18+, past relationship, pining, masturbation, voyeurism

Tetsurou’s too many drinks deep for this monumentally questionable decision.

This is his fault—the fact that he’s sitting on the cold tile floor of yours and Bokuto’s girlfriend’s dual ensuite bathroom, damp swim shorts doing nothing to hide his half-hard dick as he leans his head back against the door and stares up at the ceiling.

He’s the one that let you go, who ran like a goddamn coward the moment your situationship started to feel too much like a relationship.

He knows he fucked up, he’s been well aware for months on end, the endless ache in his chest a persistent reminder. 

But you’re happy now—something Bokuto’s girlfriend mentioned thrice at the bar last night, threateningly waving a fork in his direction for emphasis. 

“So you’d better fucking behave at the party tomorrow, Kuroo.”

He’d behaved all right. 

He’d behaved all damn afternoon, even when you finally showed up late with your new boyfriend in tow, plopping down in his lap on one the lounger chairs beside the pool and resting your head against his shoulder as you laughed and recounted the events of his baseball game.

He’d even managed a cordial fucking wave when the two of you locked eyes.

But it all started going downhill when you caught him alone in the kitchen, his hands slipping on the condensation on the side of the Coke can he was holding as your gazes locked on one another.

“I’m sorry—”

“Tetsu—”

He paused, an odd ache unfurling in his chest as you corrected yourself, “Kuroo.”

And maybe he could have made it through the rest of the day unscathed, if he hadn’t noticed you were still wearing the stupid ankle bracelet he’d won for you on the boardwalk last summer. The one with the silly little cat charm on it, which had been a pitiful consolation prize when his best efforts still couldn’t win the obnoxiously rigged balloon pop game, but you insisted he immediately tie it around your ankle all the same.

“I’ll wear it till it falls off,” you’d promised with a grin as Tetsurou offered the underpaid teenager at the booth and the obnoxious assortment of gigantic, impossible-to-win stuffed animals one last parting glare.

He should have left then—Akaashi even offered him a ride home.

But he’d stayed.

He’d fucking stayed and tortured himself even more as you lounged atop a floatie, your damp swimsuit leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Especially not one that already knows all your dips and curves—every little sound you make.

Sounds you’re making for someone else in your room on the other side of this goddamn door while Tetsurou’s head spins.

He’s too drunk for this.

But he can’t bring himself to get up, not when his mind’s readily conjuring images of you splayed out beneath him on your mattress, his hands cupping your breasts through your still-wet swimsuit. His thumb dragging across your nipples, the buds hard and sensitive in the air conditioned apartment.

He has to shove the heel of his palm against his dick when he thinks about untying your top, the way you’d arch your body up into his as he mouths at your breasts, your skin warm and wet under his touch.

On the other side of the door, you moan.

And fuck it, he lets his cock spring free from his shorts, nearly groaning in relief as he finally wraps his fingers around his achingly hard shaft.

He thinks about peeling off your swim shorts and spreading your legs, rutting his throbbing cock against the mattress as you drag your fingers through his hair while he eats you out. 

The bed frame creaks, and you moan loader, and Tetsurou spits in his palm, teeth biting into the side of his free hand as he tries to stifle his own groan while he fucks his fist.

He thinks about you climbing into his lap, the damp feeling of your skin flush against his, the familiar taste of your kiss as his mouth slots against yours. That little sound you always make as he eases his thick cock into you—the ghost of a laugh tangled in a whimper at the stretch.

The satisfied, languid noise that crawls up your throat when he bottoms out inside of you.

The desperate way you say his name when you’re about to come.

“Tetsu!”

Tetsurou’s eyes shoot open.

Did he just hear you—

A tidal wave of pleasure punches through him as he messily pumps hot, thick spurts of cum from his cock, his seed splattering across the floor tiles, and he rakes a hand through his hair, heart pounding erratically against his ribcage.

Fuck.