#was literally saying NO NO NO WHAT NO out loud

[cloudtransprncy]

Birthday Girl

Sakura Miyawaki x Male Reader | 4k words Tags: smut, pwp, closet sex, rough, dirty talk, public but private, spit play, facefucking, cock drunk, desperate, light daddy kink, birthday sex

Sakura’s birthday. A packed apartment. Her hands on you all night. The Closet. Lips crash. Yeah, you saw this coming.

AN: She posted this literally few hours ago, had to do it. Shes so hot. Also, not proofread so gg.

Sakura’s back thuds against the closet wall, coats rustling behind your head as you lift her up. Her breath stutters, legs locking around your waist, arms clutching your shoulders, nails digging in like she needs something to keep her grounded—like if she lets go, she might just float away.

Her yoga pants? Barely hanging off one of her legs, abandoned mid-chaos. Her panties? Pushed aside, not even a real obstacle. Your hands grip her thighs tight as you fuck into her, deep and relentless. Her top is slipping lower with every thrust, exposing more of her shoulder, her collarbone, skin begging to be bitten. And you’d do it too—if you weren’t so obsessed with the way she’s coming undone right now.

The coats behind her sway with every motion, hangers rattling above your heads like they’re judging you. Not that either of you care. She’s too far gone, and you? You’re right there with her.

Her hair’s a mess, wavy strands sticking to her damp forehead, fingers tangled in your shirt as she clings to you. Her breath is hot, coming in short, desperate bursts, moans barely muffled by your hand covering her mouth.

“Shh,” you murmur, voice slow, thick with amusement. “You don’t wanna be too loud, baby. Or do you?”

She whimpers, eyes glassy, head tilting back against the wall as she nods frantically.

You chuckle, lips ghosting over her cheek. “Of course you do.”

Your fingers trail up the back of her thigh, squeezing hard. “You act all sweet, but I know better. You love this shit.”

Her hips buck against you, fingers twisting in your shirt, her voice breaking against your palm.

Yeah. That’s what you thought.

Sakura’s birthday party was always gonna lead to this—you just didn’t know when she’d make her move.

It started in the middle of the party—packed apartment, music blasting from a half-broken speaker, bodies pressed together. The room carried the scent mix of sweat, overpriced cologne, and the sharp tang of jungle juice that had no business tasting that good. People were draped over furniture, laughing too loud, shouting over the music, spilling drinks like it was a sport. A night where everything was a little too much, but nobody cared.

And then there was her. Sakura wasn’t just another body in the crowd—she was the center of it.

Soft pink top slipping off her shoulder like an invitation, flared yoga pants hugging her just right, bangs framing her face like she walked straight out of a dream. Every time she moved, heads turned, but her attention? Locked on you. She knew exactly what she was doing, every glance, every smirk, every shift of her hips designed to pull you in, to remind you—she wasn’t just anyone. She was yours.

The tension had been bubbling under the surface all night, and she was stoking the fire.

She was all over you—brushing past you in the kitchen like she didn’t have a whole ass apartment to move in, fingers trailing over your chest when she laughed, leaning in to whisper absolute nonsense in your ear just to see you twitch.

At one point, she dropped onto your lap—casual, she was your girlfriend, she did this all the time. But the way her ass shifted against you? The way she pressed against that spot. Not casual at all.

Your hand slid up her thigh, slow, teasing, just enough to feel how warm she was, the buttery smooth fabric of her yoga pants gliding under your fingertips, just enough for her breath to hitch. And when she turned to look at you, eyes dark, lips parted, you knew exactly where this was going.

She didn’t even have to say anything. Just curled her fingers around your wrist, yanked you up from the couch, and pulled you through the sea of bodies like she was leading you somewhere important.

“Ten minutes. No one will notice.”

She barely got the closet door shut before she was on you, kissing you like she needed it, like she’d been thinking about it all damn night. And maybe she had.

Maybe you had too.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when she breaks the kiss.

Her top keeps slipping lower, the fabric barely clinging to her shoulder, exposing smooth skin, the curve of her collarbone. You don’t hesitate this time—you lean in, teeth grazing her skin before biting down just enough to make her gasp. She tenses, then melts, fingers twisting tighter into your shirt as you press her harder against the wall, groaning as you roll your hips into her.

“You knew exactly what you were doing, huh?” Your voice is low, teasing, but there’s an edge to it. “Sitting on my lap like that.”

She gasps, arching into you, hands tugging at your shirt, trying to pull you closer like there’s even space left between you.

“Oh my god, shut up—just fuck me.”

You chuckle, biting lightly at her jaw, dragging your teeth over her skin just because you can. "So bossy," you murmur, dragging your teeth over her before smirking. "I'll let it slide since it's your birthday."

Her yoga pants made it too easy—too smooth, too soft, gliding under your fingers before she kicks them off the one leg they’re still clinging to. Your eyes flick down just in time to watch her smooth, bald pussy stretch around you, glistening, tight, her arousal slicking your cock with every thrust. A wet strand drips down, sliding over your length, smearing against the base where you're buried deep inside her. Her lace panties slowly slide back into place, only to be stopped by your cock in the way, the fabric bunched against her swollen clit.

The air in the closet is thick—humid with heat, the scent of sweat, her perfume, the musky, intoxicating smell of sex. It clings to both of you, mixing with the sharp, clean bite of your cologne, the space so cramped you can feel every shaky breath she exhales against your neck.

Your hands slide to her hips, gripping, holding her in place, dragging her against you, the obscene squelch of her wetness making you groan. Each motion earns another breathless whimper from her lips, her body clenching tighter, greedier.

Her fingers twist in your hair, nails scratching against your scalp as her back arches, head tilting, mouth falling open. She’s wrecked, delirious, drowning in it. You know the moment you hit just the right spot—her entire body tenses, thighs trembling as she melts, a shaky exhale escaping as she chokes out a moan, her slick dripping down even more.

She’s falling apart, breathing heavy, voice all high and needy. “Oh my god—yes, yes, yes—”

You pull back just enough to grab her jaw, forcing her to look at you. "Open your mouth." The command is lazy, effortless, like you already know she’ll do it.

Her lashes flutter, gaze locked on yours as her lips part, tongue sliding out just enough—soft, pink, waiting. Her breath is shaky, pupils blown wide, cheeks already flushed. She looks so damn pretty like this.

You spit, slow and deliberate, watching the way it lands on her tongue, glistening under the dim lights spilling into the closet. She swallows without hesitation, a quiet, satisfied hum vibrating in her throat, her thighs clenching tighter around you like the act just turned her on even more.

"Good girl," you murmur, thumb dragging down her chin, smearing the wetness before you push back into her, rougher this time. Deeper. Your grip tightens on her hips, keeping her right where you want her, holding her still as you drive into her.

She whimpers, her nails biting into your shoulders, her whole-body trembling. She’s so wrecked, teetering on the edge, but she doesn’t want you to stop. Not really. Still, her hand taps against your shoulder, a quick signal, not to make you stop—just to give her a second to catch her breath.

And then she’s moving, pulling herself off you, breathless and desperate. She drops to her knees, looking up at you through messy lashes, eyes dark and eager.

"Fuck my face. Use my mouth. I wanna choke on that fat cock"

Your cock twitches at the words, and you don’t hesitate—grabbing the back of her head, tilting her face up so she’s looking at you. Her lips part instinctively, tongue slipping out in anticipation, and the sight alone nearly makes you groan.

She’s on her knees, perched on her ankles, fingers wrapping around the base of your cock, stroking slow, teasing, watching the way it twitches in her grip. She leans in, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the shaft, tongue flicking out to catch the drops of precum pooling at the tip.

She looks up at you through her lashes, eyes dark, lips parted as she lets a string of spit fall from her mouth, slicking you up before wrapping her fingers around you again, stroking with deliberate, lazy precision.

"Stretch my lips, daddy," she breathes, guiding you to her mouth. Her breath is hot, her lips plush, brushing against the tip before she takes you in, inch by inch, her tongue dragging along the underside, wet and insistent.

The second you push deeper, you feel the tight squeeze of her throat, her soft tongue flattening along the underside of your shaft, dragging over the sensitive ridge as she swallows around you. Her eyes flutter, lashes trembling, but she doesn’t look away, doesn’t break contact even as her throat tightens. “Yeah, that’s it. Fuckin’ take it.”

Her fingers wrap tighter around the base, stroking in time with her movements, keeping you slick and soaked in her spit. When she pulls back, a wet gasp leaves her lips, a thick strand of saliva connecting her mouth to the tip before she spits on it again, her fingers smearing the mess over your length.

She moans before taking you back in, lips stretching wider, her tongue teasing the slit before she pushes forward, faster, needier, hollowing her cheeks as she sucks. Her nails dig into your thighs for balance, her body shuddering as she gags, choking just enough for her throat to constrict tight around you. Drool pools at the corners of her lips, spilling down her chin, dripping onto her bare chest, messy and shameless as she takes you even deeper.

“Look at you,” you murmur, running a hand down the side of her face, thumb caressing her cheek as she hollows her cheeks around you. “Messy fucking girl. You love this, don’t you?”

She moans around you, a garbled sound vibrating against your cock, making your stomach tighten. You press her down further, forcing her to take more, feeling the spasms in her throat as she gags again, spit trailing down her chin.

Then, with a sharp pull, you yank her off you, her lips slick and swollen, a wet gasp tearing from her mouth as her tongue hangs out, glossy with drool. Her breath is ragged, eyes glazed over, a dazed, cock-drunk expression written all over her pretty face.

You don’t let her recover. You guide her back down, pushing your cock past her parted lips again, stretching them wide as she takes you deeper, hitting the back of her throat in one smooth motion. A choked gag vibrates against you, making your toes curl.

You do it again.

Off. A sharp inhale.

On. A desperate moan, her throat tightens around you.

Off. Her drool spills down her chin, thick and messy, strings of it connecting her lips to your tip.

On. Her throat spasms, her fingers digging into your thighs, her whole body trembling as she lets you use her.

"Fuck," you growl, gripping her jaw, forcing her to look up at you. "You’re so fucking hot, letting me use your pretty mouth like this."

She giggles, the sound breathy, wrecked, utterly cock drunk. A whimper follows, needy, desperate, like she wants more.

Outside, the party rages on—voices, laughter, music pounding through the walls. If someone walked into her room right now, would they hear what’s happening in the closet? Would they pause, listening to the muffled sounds of wet, filthy pleasure, debating whether to check? If they did, if they opened the door—they’d find her like this. On her knees, wrecked, taking everything you give her without hesitation.

Music pounds through the walls, bass rattling the closet door, but it’s almost drowned out by the wet, filthy sounds of her mouth working you over.

Almost.

Then, just when she’s gasping around you, you yank her back up, flipping the dynamic instantly. You drop onto the floor, back against the wall, legs spread.

"Come ride it, birthday girl."

She wastes no time, swinging a leg over you, holding her top up with one hand while the other reaches between you, fingers wrapping around your slick length, angling you towards her entrance. She drags the head of your cock along her soaked folds, teasing herself before finally sinking down with a desperate moan, stretching around you inch by inch. Her breath hitches, her walls pulsing, clenching down like she never wants to let go.

"You always stretch me so good, daddy," she whimpers, her voice wrecked, shaking as she takes you deeper.

The slick sound of her taking you in fills the cramped space, loud, obscene, making your head fall back against the wall as you groan, feeling just how tight and soaked she is, how she struggles to adjust to every inch of you.

She exhales a shaky breath, biting her lip as she starts to move—slow at first, rolling her hips in deliberate circles, teasing. She wants to show off, to make you feel just how good she can be, but she’s already too far gone.

You let her have it for a second, watching her through heavy lids as she lifts her hips, sinking down again, taking every inch. The way she bites her lip, how her eyes flutter as she feels it all, the heat of her wrapped around you—it’s so fucking good.

"Look at you," you murmur, voice thick with amusement, hands lazily gripping her waist. "Tryna show off. You wanted this so bad, huh?"

"Yes—fuck—I need it, I need it." Her voice is a whimper, desperate, as her movements stutter for a second, her body betraying her.

You smirk, fingers pressing into her skin, steadying her. "Then take it, baby. Show me."

She gasps as you guide her down, forcing her to take you deeper, her thighs trembling as she grinds against you. Every drop down is louder, wetter, her arousal dripping between your thighs, making a mess of both of you. The stretch has her eyes rolling back, mouth falling open as she tries to keep up, but she’s spiraling fast.

You watch her fall apart, reveling in it. She’s not showing off anymore—her thighs are shaking, her rhythm faltering, every motion a struggle between holding on and giving in.

She tries to keep moving, but she’s too far gone. Her moans turn breathless, higher, edged with desperation.

Your hands glide over her waist, caressing the smooth curve of her abdomen, fingers pressing into the tightness of her frame. The pink ruffle top she’s still wearing hugs her figure perfectly, accentuating every dip and curve, the soft fabric molding to her body. She’s small, stretched impossibly around you, and she knows exactly how hot that is. Her back arches, one hand lifting to gather her hair, exposing the elegant line of her neck, the full length of her body—long, taut, trembling under your touch.

You groan, watching the way she takes you, how her pussy struggles to accommodate you, her wetness coating your length with every slow, agonizing drop down. She’s shaking, her rhythm faltering, moans getting breathier, higher, edged with desperation.

You grab her hips, slamming her down, forcing her to take it all. She gasps, body jolting as you fill her completely, her walls clenching down in shock, in pleasure, in everything all at once. The impact sends a fresh wave of wetness spilling between you, dripping down your length, making an obscene mess where your bodies meet.

Your hand moves up—palm flat against her stomach, pressing down, feeling yourself buried deep inside her. "Feel that, baby? Feel how deep I am?"

She whimpers, fingers clawing at your chest, gripping your wrists, needing something to hold onto as you thrust up into her, making her take more.

Her head tilts back, but you don’t let her escape. You wrap a hand around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her eyes flutter open, forcing her to look at you. "Nah, baby. Don’t run from it. Take every inch."

She’s crying out, losing control, her body shaking as pleasure overtakes her. She’s getting close—you can feel it, the way her walls pulse around you, the way her breath catches, the way she’s barely hanging on. Just as she’s fully giving in, just as she’s about to break—there’s a knock. On the closet door? No, on the door to her bedroom.

“Yo, Sakura? You in there?”

She freezes, eyes wide, panic flickering across her face. The voice is familiar—it’s Chaewon, one of her girlies.

Your hand flies to her mouth, smothering the whimper that nearly escapes, feeling the way her entire body trembles against you. You both hold your breath, locked in place, but inside, you can feel how she grips you tighter, clenching like the sudden risk is turning her on even more.

Footsteps shuffle across her bedroom, the faint rustle of fabric as Chaewon rifles through her things. Her jacket. Right—Sakura had let all her girlies drop their stuff on her bed earlier. That’s what she’s here for. She’s just grabbing something.

Sakura, reckless and insatiable, starts moving again. Slow at first, rolling her hips against you, both of you biting your lips to keep quiet. The thrill of getting caught makes everything sharper—the squeeze of her walls, the way her nails press harder into your skin, the heat of her breath against your palm.

You slip two fingers between her lips, pressing them past her tongue. Without hesitation, she takes them in, sucking greedily, her eyes flickering up to yours, dazed and completely wrecked. Her tongue swirls around them, hot and slick, coating them in spit as she moans softly around the intrusion, hips never stopping, never slowing. Her mouth is a perfect mess, drool slipping down her chin, her lashes fluttering as she looks up at you, waiting, eager for more.

You lean in, lips brushing her ear, voice barely above a whisper. "Oh, you love this. Getting fucked while someone’s right outside."

She nods, desperate, shameless.

The door creaks as Chaewon steps out, closing it behind her.

The second she’s gone, you drop your hand from Sakura’s mouth and grab her hips, grinding her down onto you, slow and punishing, making her take it. She’s already there, teetering on the edge, her whole body trembling, thighs locked tight around you, her nails raking down your chest.

She tries to be quiet, but she’s shaking too hard, her breath coming in desperate little gasps as her pussy clamps down around you, gripping, pulsing, milking every inch.

"Please—fuck, please, let me cum—let me feel you—" her voice is barely there, shaking, breaking, whimpering between ragged breaths.

You murmur against her lips, teasing. "You need it that bad, baby?"

"Yes—yes, please, I c-can’t—" she stutters, her nails scraping down your chest, gripping onto you like she’ll fall apart if you stop. "I need it, need you to fill me up—please, daddy—please—wanna cum with you—"

Her voice is wrecked, moaning through the words, pleading, trembling in your hold. And fuck, you’re close too—you can feel it, your body tensing, the tight heat of her pulling you in, the way she’s clenching, desperate for it.

"Yeah? You wanna cum with me?" your voice is thick, strained, your grip tightening on her hips as you slam her down one more time. "Then take it, baby. Fucking take it—"

The moment snaps—her body stiffens, then unravels completely, her orgasm slamming into her all at once. Her thighs clamp around you, her walls fluttering in desperate pulses, squeezing, milking you for everything, her body demanding you spill inside her.

And you do. A deep groan rumbles from your chest as you push as far as you can go, holding her flush against you, buried deep, stretching her to the limit. She clenches around you, pulsing, gripping, her walls fluttering in erratic waves, milking every last drop from you. The heat of her, the wet, slick slide of it, has you seeing white, body locking up as pleasure rips through you.

Your fingers dig into her waist, holding her still as you spill inside her, your jaw clenched tight as your release crashes into you, sharp and overwhelming. Her name tumbles from your lips, breathless, lost in the haze of sensation.

She doesn’t stop moving, her hips rolling in slow, messy circles, dragging out every aftershock, refusing to let the moment end. Her breath stutters, caught between a whimper and a moan, her entire body shuddering in your arms. She’s wrecked, trembling, eyes heavy-lidded as she takes it all, lets it sink in, lets herself stay full.

You don’t let go. Not yet. You keep her there, pressing her down onto you, making sure she feels every throb, every last drop settling inside her. She clings to you, nails skimming over your skin, her breath coming in soft, uneven sighs as you both stay wrapped up in the mess you made of each other.

She sighs, stretching her body, still straddling you, then giggles, shaking her head.

"You look fucked out," she teases, voice hoarse.

You exhale a deep breath, still gripping her waist. "I am."

She kisses you lazily, smirking against your lips before leaning down to whisper, "We should get back before someone actually finds us."

"You’re a fucking bitch."

"Yours" She hums, smug, tilting her head as she drags her fingers down your chest, slow and lazy.

Then, she leans in again, licking up the side of your neck, her tongue hot against your skin, before she catches your lips in a deep, lingering kiss.

It’s unhurried, indulgent—nothing like the raw, desperate way she had been moaning for you just minutes ago. She kisses you like she owns you, like she knows she’s got you wrapped around her finger no matter how hard you fuck her. And the worst part? She’s right.

You groan into her mouth, your hands gripping her hips one last time, keeping her close even as she pulls back just enough to smirk against your lips. "Let’s go, lover boy. I’m not done making you obsessed with me tonight."

Your girlfriend is a freak, and you love it.

[nanasrkives]

Navigation : midnight records! the starlight EP! haikyuu EP!

── .✦ "3 AM SHENANIGANS" — Suna Rintaro, Akaashi Keiji, Kuroo Tetsuro, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Bokuto Kotarou, Iwaizumi Hajime, Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu, Kozume Kenma, Oikawa Toru

in which you catch your boyfriend talking in his sleep Sleep-talking boyfriends >>> therapy. content : fluff. multicharacter. post timeskip.2000 words

SUNA RINTAROU

It’s late, and the room is quiet, except for the occasional shuffle from Suna, who’s already half asleep beside you. You’re about to drift off when you hear him mumble, his voice low and irritated.

“Are you serious right now?” Suna grumbles, not fully awake. “Atsumu, you can’t be this extra all the time.”

You freeze. Wait, is he... talking about Atsumu?

You glance at Rin, then casually grab your phone. With a grin, you hit record, knowing this is going to be top-tier content. “You look like a damn highlighter, Atsumu,” Rin mutters, sounding genuinely disgusted. “Who told you neon green was a vibe? Was your mirror broken that day?”

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh. This is already better than anything you could’ve expected.

“And that ‘sexy smirk’ you keep trying to pull off?” Suna continues, totally unaware of his roasting abilities. “You look like a kid who just learned how to wink and is way too proud of it. Cut it out, bro.”

You snicker, barely able to keep your cool. I’m definitely sending this to Atsumu in the morning.

“Honestly, just stick to your usual ‘I’m better than you’ routine,” he grumbles. “At least that’s believable. But seriously? You think anyone’s buying this ‘heartthrob’ act? You look like a failed shampoo commercial from 2009.”

You choke on your laugh, clutching your stomach as you snort. Suna, meanwhile, is still in his own little world.

“And for the love of God,” he adds, “stop flexing like you’re auditioning for a bodybuilding competition, because nobody’s impressed. We see your ego in every room, and honestly, it’s exhausting.”

You just can’t stop giggling, holding your phone up to get every word. This is absolute gold.

“Seriously, Atsumu,” he mutters, voice slurring as he shifts slightly. “I’m just trying to sleep, and you’re out here acting like you’re the main character in a K-drama. Take that energy to the next level, bro.”

You whisper to yourself with a grin, “Suna's literally sleep-roasting him like he’s on a talk show.”

Suna rolls over, still completely unconscious, and you stop the recording, already looking forward to showing this to Atsumu. You lean back and snicker under your breath, "This is so going viral in the group chat.”

AKAASHI KEIJI

It’s late, and you got up because you were thirsty. You’re just about to go back to sleep when you hear a mumble from Akaashi next to you.

“Did I leave the oven on...?” he mutters groggily, his voice low and concerned.

You blink, confused. Wait, what?

You glance over at him, only to find him still fast asleep, looking completely unaware of his own panic. “Keiji...?” you whisper, half-jokingly. He mumbles again, his tone slightly more urgent this time. “The oven... I think I left it on. Did I...?”

You try not to laugh, but you can’t help it. Seriously? In his sleep, he's worried about the oven? “Hey Keiji...” you try to get his attention, but he continues as if he’s in the middle of a full-blown crisis.

“I swear, if I burned the house down...” he mutters, shifting slightly in the bed. “I was just trying to make toast...”

You’re now fully awake, trying to hold back laughter as you watch him talk about something as mundane as burnt toast while still completely unconscious.

“I know I should’ve checked the timer...” he continues, his voice tinged with regret. “Why do I always forget the basics?”

By now, you’re trying your best not to laugh out loud. This is too funny, and you decide to take full advantage of it. You tap him on the shoulder gently, but he doesn’t react. He’s still spiraling in his sleep. “Babe, it’s fine. The oven's off,” you say in a teasing tone, hoping it’ll snap him out of it.

“But what if I didn’t turn it off...?” he mutters again, his concern reaching new heights. “What if... what if the fire department has to come? I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You sigh, finally giving up on holding it in and letting out a chuckle. Akaashi, always the over-thinker—even in his sleep. With a smirk, you nudge him once more, and he finally lets out a small sigh of relief, still half asleep. “I’ll deal with it in the morning...”

You shake your head, still smiling. Next time, maybe check the oven before going to bed.

KUROO TETSUROU

The night is calm, the kind of stillness that’s perfect for deep sleep—or so you thought. You’re peacefully dreaming when you suddenly feel a hand on your arm. Kuroo shift beside you, his body going rigid all of a sudden.

“No, no, no... why is she—” he mumbles in his sleep, his voice growing more frantic by the second.

You blink, slowly waking up as his random murmurs continue. "Tetsu?" you ask groggily, unsure whether to just ignore it or poke him awake.

"She’s... she's drooling—WHAT THE FUCK, WHY IS SHE DROOLING?"

You furrow your brows, still half-asleep and confused. "What? Drooling? What are you talking about?"

Kuroo starts thrashing around a bit, looking like he's trying to dodge something invisible. "No, no, NO—this is bad. This is so bad. It’s... it’s—LILY ROSE DEPP! GET AWAY! GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU'RE GONNA GET ME WITH THE DROOL!"

Pause. Why the fuck is he dreaming about Lily Rose—

It hits you like a lightning bolt. He's dreaming about the movie you saw today.

You can’t help but snicker at the absurdity of the situation, but Kuroo is clearly in full-blown panic mode, hands swatting at the air like he’s trying to fend off some kind of horror movie monster.

"Tetsu," you whisper, trying not to laugh too loudly. "Chill out, it’s just a movie. Lily-Rose Depp is not going to drool on you."

"But she’s... she’s just standing there tweaking out! WHY IS SHE DROOLING LIKE THAT?! SHE'S GONNA MURDER ME!"

You can’t hold it in anymore. "You are literally freaking out over fake drool. It’s not even real!"

He freezes mid-squirm, looking like he’s just realized he’s been fighting invisible drool this whole time. "Wait... I’m... I’m dreaming?"

"Yes, babe, you’re dreaming," you say, trying to get him to relax. "It was just a weird movie scene, chill. No one’s gonna drool on you in your sleep."

He mutters something under his breath, clearly still processing, but then—BOOM. He jolts awake, blinking in confusion and looking around wildly. "Did I... did I just fight off a drooling woman?"

You can’t help but laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "No, baby, you’re good. There’s no one here. Just weird movie dreams."

Kuroo lets out a deep sigh of relief, but not without one last dramatic comment: "But seriously... that scene? Unsettling. Why did she even do that?" He shudders dramatically as if he’s still trying to shake off the absurdity of it.

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "It was just a weird artistic choice, Tetsu. Just go back to sleep, dream about something less gross."

Kuroo pulls you closer, still looking a little frazzled, but at least he’s relaxed enough to go back to sleep. "If I dream about drool again, though, I’m going full superhero on it," he mutters.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you say, stifling a giggle. "Goodnight, hero."

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

The night is quiet, and you’re just about to drift off when you feel something unexpected: a weight on your waist. You blink, confused, only to find that Sakusa—who's usually the least touchy person you know—is clinging to you like a koala in his sleep.

"Mmm… no… no, not again..."

You blink a few times, still half-asleep. "Omi?"

He doesn't respond, but you hear him muttering something under his breath.

"Stay back, Atsumu..."

You sit up a bit, eyes wide in confusion. "Atsumu?"

His grip on you tightens, and you feel his body tense against yours as if he’s trying to protect himself from an invisible force. "No… no, you’re too sweaty! I can’t breathe… germs… germs everywhere!"

You rub your eyes, not sure if you’re dreaming or if Sakusa’s really having this conversation in his sleep. "Wait, what?"

"Germs…,” he mumbles again, still clutching you like you’re his lifeline, as though Atsumu—who’s clearly not here—is about to attack him with sweat.

You can’t help it. You snort, more amused than anything else. This is the guy who gives you a 10-minute lecture about disinfecting your phone, and now he’s sleeping like a cat glued to your side.

"Omi," you murmur, trying to suppress a laugh. "You’re literally dreaming. There’s no sweaty Atsumu here. Calm down."

But he’s not listening. His voice gets more frantic, and his arms tighten even more around you. "I can't… I can’t touch him, Y/N... it’s… it’s everywhere. The germs, the sweat, it's all over..."

You blink, stunned at how clingy he’s gotten. Normally, this guy wouldn’t touch you unless you had a very good reason. And now? He’s practically attached to you like a backpack. "You’re really going all in with this, huh?" you tease softly. "Do you need me to disinfect myself before I sleep with you too?"

"Need bleach...,” he mumbles, still not awake. "We need bleach. Stat."

You burst into quiet laughter, shaking your head. "You’re fine babe. There’s no germs here. I promise. It’s just you and me."

His response? He pulls you closer, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck like he’s shielding himself from a storm. You almost fall out of bed from how tightly he's holding you, and the absurdity of it all finally hits you.

"Omi," you chuckle softly, "I can’t believe you’re this clingy when you're asleep." You can practically hear his mind working as he sighs in his sleep. "Thank you... you're so clean..."

You're starting to enjoy the chaos now, though you’re still trying not to suffocate under his sleep-induced clinging. "Well, if I'm so clean, maybe you should calm down before you suffocate me," you tease, lightly pushing him off.

He doesn’t budge, still clinging to you like a human koala.

"I promise, no one’s getting sweaty near you," you murmur, shaking your head in amused disbelief.

Sakusa finally relaxes a little, still holding onto you, though not as desperately. It’s almost sweet… if you ignore the fact that he's sleep-clinging to you like a lifeline and muttering about germs.

"You're so soft," he mutters sleepily, finally drifting back into peaceful slumber, his hand still gently gripping your waist.

You blink down at him in confusion.

You can’t help but snicker. Looks like, for once, you’re the one who has to play the role of the calm, reassuring one. Not that you mind—just as long as he doesn’t try to disinfect you in the middle of the night.

BOKUTO KOTAROU

It was late—too late—when you felt something shift next to you. At first, you ignored it, already half-asleep, curled under the blankets. Then, suddenly—

"HEY HEY HEY!!"

Your body jerked awake at the sheer volume of his voice. "What the—?!"

Your sleep-addled brain barely had time to process before Bokuto fist-pumped the air—WHILE STILL ASLEEP.

"BEST SPIKER ALIVE, BABY!!" he cheered.

You blinked in the dark, completely disoriented. "Are you serious right now?" He didn’t answer. Because he was still asleep.

You groaned, rubbing your face, trying to slow your heartbeat down after that sudden wake-up call. "Bokuto, shut up," you muttered, voice raspy with sleep. But he wasn’t done.

"THAT WAS PERFECT!! DID YOU SEE THAT, Y/N?!"

"Oh my god," you whispered, realizing what was happening.

He was sleep-talking. Again.

"Ko, babe," you sighed, poking his forehead, hoping to shut him up before he woke up the whole building. "You’re dreaming. Go back to sleep." But instead of calming down, he suddenly turned towards you, grabbed your wrist, and squeezed it like a coach hyping up a player. "Y/N, YOU SET ME UP SO GOOD, I COULD KISS YOU!!"

You froze.

Your sleep-deprived brain took a moment to process the words before your lips parted. "…Bokuto Kotarou, I don’t even play volleyball."

"DON’T EVEN NEED TO! YOU’RE JUST THAT GOOD!!"

You sighed deeply, trying not to laugh. Sleep-talking Bokuto was something else. "Okay, okay, I’m amazing, got it. Now, can you go back to sleep?" Bokuto let out a content sigh, rolling back onto his side. "Mm… MVP… my Y/N…"

And just like that, he was out cold again.

Meanwhile, you stared at the ceiling, still awake, because somehow you just got dragged into an imaginary volleyball match at 3 AM.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

The night was supposed to be peaceful. A rare moment of rest. No stress, no overthinking—just warmth, a comfortable bed, and the sound of Iwaizumi’s steady breathing beside you.

And then—

"Damn… look at those biceps…"

Your eyes snapped open.

For a second, you just lay there, blinking at the ceiling. Maybe you imagined it. Maybe you were dreaming.

Then, another sigh. "Shit… those arms… they’re unreal…"

Slowly—very slowly—you turned your head.

Iwaizumi was out cold, brows slightly furrowed, face relaxed in sleep. Yet his lips still moved, muttering nonsense into the darkness.

You stared at him. "Excuse me?"

He inhaled deeply, like he was taking in the sight of something majestic. "Damn, Ushiwaka…"

You nearly choked.

"USHIJIMA?!"

Nothing. No reaction. Just more soft, reverent mumbling. "Man… wonder what his arm day looks like…" A dreamy sigh. "Bet he curls, like… baby cows or somethin’…"

Your mouth fell open. For a solid ten seconds, you just laid there, processing. Then, slowly, a grin crept onto your face.

Leaning in, you whispered, "Hajime, do we need to have a conversation?"

A twitch. Then a small, sleepy grunt. "Mm… nah… ‘M gonna get bigger… even bigger…" His fingers twitched against the blanket, like he was mentally curling dumbbells.

You bit back laughter. "Bigger than Ushiwaka?" His brows furrowed, serious even in his sleep. "Tch… obviously…” A pause. "…probably…" That did it. You had to shove your face into the pillow to keep from bursting out laughing.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get any better—

"Y/N… ya think I’d look cool in a whey protein commercial…?"

You lost it. Grabbing your pillow, you smacked him upside the head.

MIYA ATSUMU

The night was peaceful, quiet, and exactly what you needed after a long day.

Then—

"THAT LYIN’ SNAKE—"

You shot upright, heart slamming against your ribs as you whipped toward the source of the outburst.

Atsumu. Still completely asleep.

His brows were furrowed, his mouth twisted in pure betrayal, and his fingers twitched against the blanket like he was plotting a murder. You exhaled sharply, flopping back onto the pillow. "God, Atsumu. Go back to sleep."

But he wasn’t done.

"I KNEW IT," he muttered, voice thick with righteous fury. "OSAMU’S BEEN WORKIN’ WITH THEM ALL ALONG…" Your brows furrowed as you turned to face him, half-exasperated, half-amused. "With who?" Atsumu’s breathing hitched. Then, in a voice so low it was almost conspiratorial, he whispered—

"The pigeons."

You blinked.

"What."

"They ain’t real, Y/N…" he continued, jaw clenching. "Government spies. Watchin’ us. Waitin’."

Your face went slack. "You’re joking."

"First it was the onigiri… now it’s full-blown espionage…" Atsumu grumbled, gripping the sheets tighter. "I gotta stop him… I gotta—"

Then, abruptly, his whole body relaxed. His face softened. His lips curled into a stupidly fond smile. "Mm… Y/N, ya smell good…" Your soul left your body.

"WHAT?!"

"Like… bread…" he sighed, completely content. "I love bread… ‘M gonna marry bread…" You stared at him.

Then, without thinking, you smacked him with your pillow.

"WAKE UP, YOU MENACE."

Atsumu just rolled over onto his stomach, mumbling something incoherent. But then, just as you were about to settle back down… "Not if Osamu gets to it first… damn bastard takes everythin’ from me…" You buried your face in your hands.

It was too late at night for this.

MIYA OSAMU

It was past midnight, and the only sound in the apartment was the occasional hum of the fridge. You were comfortably asleep—until you heard mumbling beside you.

At first, you thought you imagined it. But then— "No, that’s mine, ya greedy pig…"

Your eyebrows furrowed as you turned your head toward Osamu, who was lying on his back, looking completely relaxed. His lips parted slightly as he mumbled, his voice low and grumbly from sleep.

"Didn’t even leave me a single bite… selfish ass…"

Oh. He was sleep-talking. You had to physically restrain yourself from laughing.

Carefully, you shifted closer, resting your head on his shoulder. "What’d he take this time?" you whispered, playing along. Osamu sighed like a man who had suffered greatly. "The last onigiri…"

You bit back a grin.

"That bastard," you whispered dramatically. "Didn’t even ask?" Osamu's brows furrowed, his head tilting slightly. "Didn’t even share…"

You lost it. You absolutely lost it.

You pressed your face into his shoulder, shaking with silent laughter. This was too good. Then—"That was my favorite one, too…" Osamu sounded genuinely heartbroken.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from holding in your laughter. "'Samu, baby, you own a whole restaurant."

There was a beat of silence.

Then, with the most serious expression—still completely asleep—he muttered: "DON’T MEAN I WANNA SHARE, Y/N." You immediately rolled onto your back, gripping your stomach, wheezing.

That was it. You were bringing this up tomorrow.

And if Osamu thought for one second that you wouldn’t record it next time? He had another thing coming.

KOZUME KENMA

Kenma was a silent sleeper. Most nights, you barely even noticed he was there—except for the occasional shift when he curled closer, or the faint glow of his phone screen if he stayed up too late gaming.

Tonight, however, was different.

Because at exactly 3:12 AM, he mumbled—

"No… no… lag… not now…"

You blinked awake. For a second, you weren’t sure if you imagined it. But then—"Tch… stupid server…" Kenma shifted slightly, brows furrowing in his sleep. "I swear if I d—if I d—if I d—" He twitched.

You squinted. "Kenma?"

"—if I d—if I d—if I d—"

You sat up. "Are you… lagging?" Kenma twitched again. His lips parted slightly, his voice glitching. "N—not n—now—lag—s-stu—pid—"

It took everything in you not to burst out laughing. "Kenma, baby, you’re buffering."

"Ngh… Y/N…" His fingers twitched, his face contorted in distress. "They’re—th-th-they’re stream sniping me…" You bit your lip. "Who?"

"Sweaty… 12-year-olds…" He exhaled sharply. "Little monsters…"

At that, you lost it. You flopped back onto the pillow, shaking with silent laughter.

"Kenma," you gasped. "You’re getting wrecked by children in your dreams?" "They—they won’t stop emoting on my body…" He turned his face into the pillow, like he was actually suffering. "Disgusting…"

Tears pricked at your eyes from holding back laughter.

Then, suddenly, Kenma’s breathing evened out again. His fingers stopped twitching.

Silence.

Until—"…Kuroo, stop taking my loot…"

You rolled over and smacked him with a pillow.

OIKAWA TOORU

The bedroom was quiet, you and Oikawa in a peaceful slumber, until, you’re woken up in the middle of the night by Oikawa’s voice, soft but unmistakably confident.

“...Y/N, I’m telling you, I can do a backflip. I’ve practiced, I swear.”

You blink, groggily trying to process what he’s saying. "A backflip? Sweetheart, where would you even try that?"

He doesn’t answer, but you can hear him shift in his sleep. Then, his voice comes again, louder this time, as if he’s trying to convince the whole room. “I’m serious! Just wait ‘til I show you. I can totally do it. You’ll see.”

You squint at him, slightly confused. “A backflip? Are you actually dreaming about impressing me with acrobatics?”

He sighs in his sleep, as if this whole conversation is just basic stuff to him. “I’m not just impressing you, Y/N. I’m proving I can do anything. You’ll see...”

You can’t help but laugh quietly, shaking your head. "Okay, Oikawa. When you land that backflip, let me know."

His voice is muffled as he mutters, “Just wait... I’ll do it in front of the whole team... they’ll be amazed…”

You roll your eyes, utterly entertained. "Sure, sure. I’m sure they’ll be floored, Oikawa."

He mumbles something unintelligible, then goes silent again, clearly satisfied with his dream logic. You shake your head, already half asleep again. "Whatever you say, superstar."

2025 © NANASRKIVES. / do not copy, repost, edit, plagiarize, or translate any of my works on any platforms, including ai.

Taglist (OPEN). / @cherrysurf @arwawawa2 @itsmeaudrieee

[celuere]

Loud incorrect buzzer for that anon's failed obvious rage bait! 🔊🔊

Anyways! What do you think Arle's size and shape down there? (I just know she's massive) And do you think her hair is trimmed? Shaved? Or an absolute rainforest? And do you think her hair is fully white or it also has Tufts of black and red like her hair???

Wild request but hey? I know we're all curious what's underneath there.

Yours truly, sane Arle fan

-🎐

in the light of recent events, i‘m sharing my dick headcanons on a few of my favorite hyv women and how they‘d handle you in bed <333

characters: arlecchino, mavuika, clorinde, raiden, feixiao, acheron x fem!reader

cw: size kink, manhandling, bondage,, breeding, unprotected sex, titfucking

ALSO i started working on this prior to your ask so i thought i‘d just merge it together!

arlecchino

₊˚ପ⊹ a grower. is while soft around four inches long and can actually bring a proud length of seven to eight inches when she is hard as a rock for you <333

₊˚ପ⊹ her base is a bit thinner when compared to her shaft, with a slight curve upwards. perfect to hit every important spot inside of you!

₊˚ପ⊹ the black hair surrounding her base is always neatly trimmed along with the happy trail, she takes very good care of both <3

₊˚ପ⊹ carries the same gradient as the one on her arms, with a single arrow running along the downside of her dick

₊˚ପ⊹ she loves, loves, LOVES to feel herself grow hard inside of you, having you sit down on her when she still so so soft not as nearly as big as usual, making it easy to slip inside of your greedy pussy <3

₊˚ପ⊹ i don’t think this needs an explanation but she can’t even fit halfway inside when in her other form. the tummy bulge surely drives her fucking crazy, but a voice in the back of her mind would still be screaming at her to be gentle with you.

₊˚ପ⊹ but plead hard enough and she‘ll make sure to use your stretched out pussy as her own personal fleshlight.

₊˚ପ⊹ has a thing for watching her cum ooze out of your spent hole, she‘d often catch it with her fingers to stuff it back inside. wouldn‘t want to waste anything, right?

mavuika

₊˚ପ⊹ smaller than arle but a thick girl. she can never slip inside completely in one go, let alone without foreplay. 

₊˚ପ⊹ a shower actually! her size doesn’t change a lot once hard, there also isn’t a noticeable curve in her shaft

₊˚ପ⊹ by the time she is done with preparing you with her fingers you‘re already a fucked out mess, your clit puffy and aching from how good she fingerfucked you

₊˚ପ⊹ a messy but clean rainforest!

₊˚ପ⊹ she has nightsoul tattoos running up her shaft. do i need to say more????

₊˚ପ⊹ her favorite position has got to be cowgirl, watching you carefully trying to sit down on her cock as you do your best to fit her in, tip already dripping with precum from watching her wife struggle on her dick <333

₊˚ପ⊹ the way she has to hold herself back when you take her into your mouth to restrain from facefucking you. her cock is just a bit too thick for your throat to take, she really don’t wants to hurt you :((((

₊˚ପ⊹ has INSANE stamina and i mean that with all my heart. riding her equals a gym workout.

₊˚ପ⊹ intentionally breeds you. (consensually ofc) just the THOUGHT about getting you pregnant and starting a family with you OH her clothes are GONE.

clorinde

₊˚ପ⊹ lengthy shower! more slim but what she lacks in thickness… eight inches definitely make up for it.

₊˚ପ⊹ has a really nice curve and is actually soso easy to get hard. the bare sight of you sitting naked in her lap or just a messy make out session get‘s her THROBBING.

₊˚ପ⊹ keeps her bush always shaved clean sadly💔 but happy trail is still up tho!

₊˚ପ⊹ tie her up and ride her for all she‘s worth. really. just do it. save a horse, ride a champion duelist.

₊˚ପ⊹ do with her as you please. that woman has literally no backbone when it comes to you.

₊˚ପ⊹ she‘d let you grind on her abs. yes. grind. right on her sixpack. cock dripping with precum as her hands are fixed above her head while she is forced to watch you drench her skin as you drag your pussy over the surface of her muscles UGHHHH

₊˚ପ⊹ i don’t think she‘d be much into breeding, mostly avoiding coming inside and rather wants to dump her load on your cunt instead. or tits. or face. or ass. anywhere.

raiden ei

₊˚ପ⊹ this one was a bit tricky because of her puppet body, but… she is customizable. short, thick, slim, long, curved, not curved, whatever you desire.

₊˚ପ⊹ if you want her to have a happy trail, she‘d upgrade the puppet with great pleasure. same thing with the option to dump her cum into you.

₊˚ପ⊹ oh my, she loves seeing you full of her cum. breeding aspect aside. watching the sticky fluid slowly drip out of you after pumping you full of her…. let her go for another round.

₊˚ପ⊹ yes, she‘d give you a replica of her dick. with the same customizable parts.

₊˚ପ⊹ loves to fuck your tits SO MUCH. no matter how big or small, you‘ll make it work. and her semen spread all over your pretty face<33

₊˚ପ⊹ oh wow mindgames in her plane of euthymia. she‘d totally not go all out there. TOTALLY NOT.

₊˚ପ⊹ tagteaming against you with miko WOW WHO SAID THAT???????

feixiao

₊˚ପ⊹ how do i put it…. a beast. that‘s what she is.

₊˚ପ⊹ length. thickness. she’s got it all. eight inches, ladies and gentlemen. and she‘ll make sure to fit it all the way inside.

₊˚ପ⊹ not curved but who gaf about that when she still manages to hit all your spots almost effortlessly

₊˚ପ⊹ RAINFOREST DICK. that bush is well cared for but she only ever trims it if gets a bit too long for her liking ngh

₊˚ପ⊹ will take extra care of the trail of hair up to her belly button if she sees you have a certain liking towards it

₊˚ପ⊹ pray for your pussy tho once this woman gets in heat. stamina is a foreign word to her. she will be mounting you like a starved wolf

₊˚ପ⊹ but she does come relatively easy on the other sides my, can you even keep all of her inside?

₊˚ପ⊹ just puts you into whatever position she pleases. literally anything. one moment your getting your ass fucked before you suddenly find yourself in a mating press with her tip bruising your cervix!

₊˚ପ⊹ tummy bulges and feixiao go hand in hand. she sometimes slides herself inside extra slowly to watch it appear <3

₊˚ପ⊹ unlike clorinde, she’d have you ride her abs in order to earn her dick. you may only let yourself down on her boner once her skin is covered in your slick 

acheron

₊˚ପ⊹ feixiaos cockbuddy. only difference is that acheron is a grower! you‘re laughing until she grows to her full size. then it ain’t funny anymore.

₊˚ପ⊹ mmmmmh due to her roaming through the cosmos all the time, i don’t think she‘d put much care into he purple-white bush, other than cleaning it occasionally. 

₊˚ପ⊹ so perfectly curved it has your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the first thrust. she doesn’t have to do anything other than just fuck inside of you.

₊˚ପ⊹ not a fan of condoms but also isn’t too hot on getting you pregnant so she prefers to cum outside, but the sight of her stuffed pussy isn’t something she‘d mind if it does happen somehow

₊˚ପ⊹ her dick grows the same red flower surface once she unsheathes her katana btw.

₊˚ପ⊹ would fuck you in the most banal places, most of them where you two could easily be caught by passerby’s, but she don’t got the time to worry about such stuff.

₊˚ପ⊹ that happy trail would be going crazy tho. like absolutely fucking lickable.

₊˚ପ⊹ big fan of throat fucking you. your gagging, those teary eyes, smeared makeup, drool-cum covered chin, my fucking god she‘d do anything to forever be buried inside your throat.

[michuga]

dream encounter

you meet the man of your dreams. literally.

pairing: jeongguk x reader

warnings: swearing, 18+ content, usage of violent terms, reader is hoooornyyy

wc: ~3k

a/n: inspired by personal experience. i'm still grieving.

you stumble into a dark alleyway, lips locked with another's. coming up for air, you inspect the man practically attached to you.

tall, buff, tattooed, smooookin'. lips plumper than ripe berries and eyes brighter than stars in a pitch black night sky.

god damn.

no time to think.

you grab him by the collar and devour him anew.

you tangle your hands in his soft locks, and he impatiently gropes the flesh of your ass. sighing into the kiss, you rub against his hard bulge.

you have never been so content. truthfully, you can keep going just like this for a few hours, minimum.

"need you," you mumble.

swiftly turning you around, he pins you against the wall. you're sandwiched between the wall and his firm body, pressing against your core just right.

hot breath against your ear, he whispers behind you, "make pretty noises for me, beautiful."

with you distracted, he sneaks an arm across your waist and dips it into your panties.

right as his fingers brush your lower belly and reach where you need him most desperately,

you wake up.

and you scream.

loud.

"jesus did someone die?" your roommate busts into your room, frantic and concerned as ever. "what the hell is the matter with you?"

in silent defeat, you grab your pillow and smash it against your face.

sighing and no longer concerned for your wellbeing, she leaves your room confused but somewhat used to your antics.

rubbing your legs together, you almost cry under your covers. guess your fingers will have to do, yet again.

"you do not understand. that was my fucking soulmate."

"a guy your brain made up touches you once and he's your soulmate?"

"shut up. you literally don't get it. i am so utterly devastated i could kill someone."

"you know what really is devastating? being in a dry spell so severe your brain has to resort to making up hallucinations."

"you have 3 seconds to run before i kill you."

"the only way you'll be killing me is with your delusion. i think i'm good."

"it's not funny! i saw his face, i physically felt his hands! this was like, cosmic. otherworldly. life-changing."

"you mean panty-changing."

"you dare mock my feelings? i woke up and felt like someone ripped my heart out and stomped on it. like my other half was ripped from my hands. like we were connected in a past life. like-"

she snorts, "yeah, connected by divine pussy."

"i'm mourning. i'm mourning and you're laughing."

"mourning!!" she laughs in disbelief, "you sound like you just got dumped by casper the horny ghost."

"i swear to god-" you chase her around the apartment for a solid 15 minutes after that.

two weeks have passed since your.. very realistic dream.

you've forgotten about it, but you could feel it in your body that your brain chemistry was altered. people may think you're exaggerating, but you really mean it when you say you haven't been the same ever since.

food doesn’t taste right. music doesn’t hit the same. the sun? dimmer. the first sip of hot coffee on a chilly morning? slightly colder.

maybe your roommate was right. maybe you're simply too touch deprived.

god, this is sad.

as you finish adding the last few things on your grocery list to your cart, you turn around to head to checkout. until you accidentally bump into someone.

"sorry! sorry!" you blurt, immediately bending down to help the stranger pick up what he dropped.

"shit, no worries," he says, crouching down to help you.

and that's when you see it; his tattooed hand.

what is it with you and tattooed men? the universe must really be torturing you. this was like dangling candy in front of a child then snatching it away, knowing you were never gonna give it to them in the first place. cruel.

"you really don't have to, it's fine," he adds.

wait.. that voice? sounds familiar?

you slowly, slowly stand up, heart pounding in your chest, finally meeting the stranger's eyes.

your soul leaves your body. your eyes damn near pop out of their sockets.

you stand there silent, like a damn fool. smiling awkwardly, he takes his stuff and walks away.

you don’t move. you don’t breathe. was this… was this another hallucination? are you so horny that your brain has started projecting men into real life like some kind of thirst-induced hologram?

you slap yourself once. no, surely not.

you slap yourself again. nope. pain is real. surely you’re not that mentally unwell. right? right? you had your mental issues but you were certain none came with hallucinations.

peeking over at checkout, you see him there, bagging his items like it’s just another tuesday. then he leaves, disappearing out the automatic doors. just like that.

you’re frozen, gripping your bag of frozen blueberries like it’s the only thing anchoring you to reality.

he's real. this has to be some cosmic joke.

"babe, life isn't a k-drama," your roommate says, voice dripping with sarcasm as she flops onto the couch, completely dismissing your very real emotional crisis. "listen. i know how you feel. dry spells are no joke."

you facepalm.

"no, really!" she continues, undeterred. "one time i went 3 months without dick thought i started having revelations from the heavens above."

you glare at her. "cut your shit, i'm serious! he was real and he looked exactly the same as the dream. maybe slightly taller and definitely hotter, but it was him."

she raises an eyebrow, not even trying to hide her amusement. "so, let me get this straight." she leans in, finally entertaining your story for a minute.

"you mean to tell me that you experienced textbook soulmate-ism; seeing a complete stranger in a dream and then accidentally bumping into him a few weeks later? that you’ve met in a past life, or that your souls are like, intertwined in some deeply meaningful, cosmic way? a destined interaction?" she mocks as she wiggles her fingers, mimicking magic.

she wiggles her fingers dramatically, mimicking magic, and you groan so loud it echoes.

turning on your heel, you storm back toward your room. you don't know why you even bothered to begin with.

"wait, wait!" she calls after you, cackling. "you know, taehyung's not dating anyone right now. want me to send you his number?"

you ignore her, marching faster.

"ooo, since you're psychic now, can you tell me my grade on tomorrow's test? or what my mom's cooking for lunch today?" she adds, trailing behind you like an annoying toddler.

you slam the door in her face so hard the hinges rattle.

serves her right.

you are going to kill your roommate.

one, for not believing you.

and two, for dragging you to a club where taehyung conveniently happened to be, and her only informing you as you were literally walking in.

he's not bad by any means, not at all. in fact, he's got the whole package. good looks, charismatic, talented and has men and women tripping over themselves for his attention.

your point is proven when you immediately spot him speaking to three women. you're no body language expert, but five more minutes of him entertaining them and they're gonna pounce on him.

you're just.. not interested.

you had met before at one of your roommate's work outings. you chatted for a bit, shared a drink. it took you, what? an hour? maybe less, to realize that friends were all you could ever be. the chemistry just wasn't there.

you don't actually hate your roommate for it, you know she just wants you to be happy. you're just irritated because you're so horny. and the only relief you've gotten in the past two years was your recent sex dream. that one touch was enough to send you spiraling into madness. she was right, dry spells really are no joke.

after 20 minutes of forced small talk, fake smiling, and one or maybe two shots later, you excuse yourself to the bathroom; thankful for any relief from this endless and agonizing night. horny and bored out of your mind do not go well together.

in front of the mirror, you stare at your reflection. get it together.

you fix your hair, touch up your makeup, and give yourself a little pep talk.

tonight this ends. you’re not walking out of here empty-handed.

be it taehyung or literally anyone else, someone is coming home with you. no more of this pathetic nonsense. your fingers deserve a break. so do your batteries.

as you dry your hands and exit the bathroom, you almost trip. before you faceplant into the floor, firm hands grab your waist, steading you.

you sigh in relief. a broken ankle definitely meant no dick tonight. you were that desperate.

"easy there," a voice says, rich and smooth like velvet and honey. sugar, spice and everything nice.

oh, no. no. no. no.

cosmic joke? this is a full on prank.

your guy, yet again.

at this point, you're convinced you're either in a simulation or someone is filming this for a prank show. whoever was controlling your character needed to grant you some reprieve. some grace, please!

he’s smiling down at you, eyes glinting with amusement. "are you ever gonna say anything?" he teases. "so far you've just ogled me and stayed completely silent. have we met before?"

your brain short-circuits. the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a dreamy and borderline pathetic sigh, "yes, we have."

"we have?" he asks, brows knit together in confusion, head tilting slightly.

"i think i'd remember you," he adds as he grins. that smug, boyish kind of grin.

your heart is doing somersaults, but your brain kicks in just in time. shaking your head quickly, you wave it off like you didn’t just sound like a lovesick creep.

"sorry, no we haven't." you force out a chuckle. "must have misheard."

idiot, idiot, idiot.

he laughs softly, extending his hand, "jeongguk. nice to meet you."

you take his hand, trying not to combust from the electricity that shoots up your arm. instant sparks. "sorry for being a freak. you just... reminded me of someone."

his eyes twinkle. "all good memories, i hope?"

you laugh, nerves making it come out a little breathy.

"thank you for saving me."

you internally cringe at your choice of words. throwing yourself off the nearest bridge would be less painful than this.

'thank you for saving me?' what is this, a disney movie? It’s not like he pulled you from a burning building.

he chuckles, unfazed, and waves it off like it’s no big deal. "see you around, then."

walking away, yet again, he leaves you burning up and in awe.

many drinks later, you end up on the dancefloor, your roommate, god knows where, doing god knows what with god knows who. you've learned not to ask.

you dance (the testosterone) your heart out. you close your eyes and you let go for the first time that night.

swaying your hips, you feel a hand slide around your waist from behind, firm and confident. a spark shoots through you, electrifying every nerve. you're caught off guard, but you don’t stop.

leaning into the touch, your body instinctively recognizes the connection. the hand tightens slightly, fingers splaying against your hipbone, guiding you in perfect sync with the music. the warmth of a chest presses against your back, and your skin prickles with electricity.

you turn your head slightly, stealing a glance at the stranger behind you. but when your eyes catch his—your breath hitches in your throat. all words die right then and there. futile devices.

turning around to face him, you throw your arms around his neck, pressing your body dangerously close to his. instinctively, he makes a home for his hands on your hips, and like an intruder, makes way for a muscular thigh right in between yours.

"i think you're gonna kill me." he murmurs, his voice low and laced with lazy lust.

looking up at him, you're unable to hide the need that kisses every delicate feature on your face. eyes twinkling, lips slightly agape, eyebrows knit.

you can’t take much more of this.

without thinking, your hand finds his, and you tug him toward the edge of the dance floor. he follows without hesitation, his grip firm, a clear indicator of impatience rivaling yours.

stumbling out of the club, the night air hits your skin like a slap. pure whiplash to your practically scorching hot skin. a giggling mess, your hands tangle with your hot dream man's.

as he calls for a cab, you stand behind him. emboldened by the alcohol and adrenaline, you rise on your tiptoes and press your lips to his neck; inhaling the scent of sweat and cologne. oh how you've missed that smell.

his breath hitches, but he doesn’t stop you.

minutes pass. no cabs. no patience.

without a word, he grabs your wrist, his touch sending another jolt through you, and pulls you into a dark alley.

holy.

shit.

holy shit?

before you can process it, his lips are on yours, hot and demanding. you moan into his mouth, equal parts pleasure and relief. your dark days are behind you. the curse has been broken, your dry spell is finally over.

his hands find your waist as you press into him, mouths moving like you’ve done this a hundred times before. then, with a swift motion, he spins you around, your front hitting the cool, rough wall. his body is a furnace against yours, hands exploring like a man starved.

you can take a wild guess what happened next. only this time, there was nothing to wake you up.

maybe you'll become a psychic medium for a living.

a few months later, you and jeongguk start officially dating.

it was nice to finally put a name to the face.

one lazy sunday afternoon, you're both sprawled on the couch, his head resting in your lap as you absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair. the soft hum of a movie plays in the background, but neither of you is really paying attention.

"you know i had a dream about you before i met you?" you blurt out, your voice casual but your heart racing the moment the words leave your mouth. sometimes you really are the very cause of your own demise.

jeongguk's eyes snap open, and he tilts his head to look up at you, a curious smile tugging at his lips. "come again?"

instantly regretting your admission, you try to brush it off, waving your hand dismissively as you shift, attempting to slide out from under him. "oh, it's nothing. forget i said anything."

"no, no. get back here," he chuckles, sitting up quickly and grabbing you by the waist before you can make your escape. with surprising ease, he spins you around, pulling you onto his lap.

"finish that thought," he says, his voice low and teasing, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"nothankyou!" you squeal, trying to wriggle free from his grasp and attempt to escape once more, but he’s stronger, and it's far too late now.

laughing, he hoists you up and throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing as he gets up; trapping you in bicep jail.

"jeongguk! put me down!" you whine, your fists playfully pounding against his back as you kick your legs in protest. "let me oooouuutt!"

"i will," he says, taking slow, exaggerated steps toward the kitchen, "once you spill."

"fine, fine!" you huff dramatically. "put me down before my head explodes!"

he finally sets you down gently, but not without keeping his hands on your hips, his gaze locked onto yours with an expectant grin.

"well," you start, biting your bottom lip, "before i bumped into you that one time at the grocery store, i had a dream about you. and, uh… you looked exactly the same."

his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and for a moment, he’s silent. then, a wide grin spreads across his face. "that is the craziest thing you've ever said. and you say some pretty crazy shit, might i add." he leans in closer, fully invested. "what kind of dream?"

you feel your cheeks heat up, turning beet red as you avert your gaze.

"baby...?" he draws out the word, his tone laced with playful curiosity. his fingers start poking your sides, making you squirm and giggle. "what kind of dream?"

"well, what do you think?" you yelp, your embarrassment reaching new heights as you cover your face with your hands. you find yourself wishing once more the earth would swallow you whole.

still confused, he racks his brain for a few moments before it finally dawns on him.

and then, laughter erupts. hearty and unrestrained, gradually making his whole body shake. "so that's why you were so weird back then?"

"gee, thanks!" you shoot back, rolling your eyes, though you can’t help but laugh along with him.

"am i wrong?" he teases, raising an eyebrow. "you had your mouth open like a fish. i was half expecting a fly to stumble right into your mouth."

"you've made your pointtt," you groan, dragging out the last word dramatically. "it's not every day you meet the man from your wet dreams, so yes, forgive me if i was a little tongue-tied."

crossing your arms, you try to look annoyed, but your smile gives you away.

"oh, i'll knock that attitude out of you," he grins mischievously.

before you can react, he scoops you up again and walks you over to the couch, dramatically plopping you down with exaggerated care. you squeal, laughing uncontrollably as he pins you beneath him, his face hovering inches from yours. you immediately regret your life decisions.

you never believed dreams came true.

but you are so, so thankful this one did.

taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw @dollyunjinz

[briannasluvrr]

Say it with me now :

I do not need to say completely still

I do not need to be in a completely silent place and I do not need to meditate for two hours in order to enter the void state to manifest what I want or to shift to my desired reality

I can do anything I can move

I can scratch those itches

I can be in a loud place, in a loud classroom full of annoying students, in a subway, in public

I can meditate for only five minutes. I can literally just by taking deep breaths and affirm and I will shift I will enter the void state I will manifest that is how simple it is 

Telling yourself otherwise telling yourself the exact opposite of this is a limited belief. Get that out of your head. Get that shit out of your system. You can shift, you can manifest, you can enter the void state in under five minutes.

Time isn’t even a REAL THING.

Xoxo, Brianna 💋

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Writing advice #?: When it comes to characterization, obligation > love.

What I mean by this: love is basically universal. It offers little variability. Almost everyone has a friend, sibling, etc for whom they'd do anything. Allegedly even Hitler loved his apocryphal dog, John Wilkes Booth was a good brother, yadda yadda so forth.

So if you want to have a story that makes us like your character Liv, and establishes interesting tension that will draw out who Liv is as a person... don't write about her rescuing her beloved mother. Write about what happens when someone she dislikes is in danger.

Two great examples I've read recently:

In The Drift by C.J. Tudor, Meg is trapped in a broken-down cable car with five other people and no way to call for help. She risks her life, performing a heroic physical feat that causes herself serious injury - to save a woman who accused her of murder, suggested leaving her to die, and generally treated her like dirt all week. Meg is heroic as hell.

In Dungeon Crawler Carl, the eponymous Carl ends up in the adventure because he ran outside in boxers in -10°F weather to save his ex-girlfriend's obnoxious, misanthropic cat. Carl might be a shlub, but he's a rock solid dude.

I could go on - would Shiloh saving Jeb be nearly as powerful if Jeb wasn't such an asshole? - but the point remains. Meg sacrificing so much to save her partner would be just what's expected. Carl rescuing a cat he chose to adopt is a non-event. Obligation is where the rubber hits the road. Where the ordinary people get sorted from the awesome ones. Where the character-defining moments occur. Over 99.9% of humans ever researched would sacrifice a stranger to save a loved one; a rare form of brain damage that causes people to value strangers and family the same is considered extremely aberrant.

I mention all of this because fan fiction is chock full of examples of characters dying (or killing, or walking through fire, or...) to save their best friends and their sisters and their fiancés. And if you want to write a story about Dean Winchester killing orphans or going to hell or destroying his car to save Sam Winchester, awesome. But there's not a ton of room for characterization in there.

If you want us to learn something about who this person Liv really is, show her forced to choose between rescuing a dog who just bit her and making it to a job interview on time. Let her see her loud neighbor with the bass-boosted music about to get a ticket for an expired meter. Give her a choice between saving 10 strangers or saving her wife. Have her walk by her sexist coworker and realize the guy is quietly sobbing. Literally anything she does next will be interesting, and say a lot about her as a person. If she's just choosing between her wife's life and her own, or her wife's life and the sexist coworker, then the scene might be poignant or sad - but it won't be surprising or tense or revelatory about Liv as a person. The big moments of heroism aren't driven by love, but by obligation.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

I love your blog sm, please never leave us 🙏 if it’s not a big problem, could I req headcanons or fic bout drunk!Ford and drunk!Stan x reader 👀 nsfw <3

∘˚₊· ʚ🍻ɞ ·₊˚∘ drunk!Stanley x reader headcanons

a/n: thank you for requesting this because i absolutely love this idea! so uhhhh ... i know you asked for both Ford & Stan but i kinda just got carried away with Stan lol, i love him so much. Ford's will come later i swear i just need to gather my braincells first 🥺 i also had no idea what pic to use but this one is pretty cool

nsfw

★ drunk!Stan rambles about marrying you every five minutes. and the problem is that he sounds so dead serious, even though hes glassy-eyed, he still mumbles about finding stealing a ring. he swears up and down that he’s gonna give you the biggest fucking wedding the town’s ever seen!

★ totally cries if you scold him. “babe, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to!!” he doesn’t even know what he did :( he’s just clutching your hands, looking up at you with glassy, pathetic puppy-dog eyes. “do. . . do you still love me?” :((( “i promise i wont screw up anymore”

★ i believe that Stan is a fucking loud drunk. he’s the guy who starts yelling even though he’s right next to you. “BABE. BABY. SWEETHEART. LISTEN. LISTEN TO ME. I GOTTA TELL YA SOMETHIN’ IMPORTANT“ and he immediately forgets what he was gonna say

★ clings to you like a damn koala (i headcanon that it's his habit from childhood). one arm slung around your waist, his face buried in your neck, whining about how much he loves you <3

★ “YA SEE THIS?” he shouts, absolutely hammered, slamming his drink down and pointing at you. “THIS IS THE LOVE OF MY GODDAMN LIFE, EVERYONE PAY RESPECTS.”

★ turns into the biggest, neediest, whiniest bitch the second you start petting his hair. melts into your touch, groaning like you’re giving him a full-body massage

★ “hey babe, babe, listen. listen. i could still totally pick you up. no, i ain’t that drunk. watch.“ promptly falls on his ass :)

★ drunk texts you while you’re sitting next to him. “you look so good rn wanna make outtt”

★ gets real quiet for a second, then just grabs you, full-body clings, putting his head on your shoulder and absolutely refuses to let you go. “yer real warm. like. so warm. like. god, i love you. so much. like. i would fight god for you.” rubs his face against you like a big cat. “mmm. soft. mineeee”

★ grabs your hands, starts playing with your fingers. “how are yer hands so small!!! youre adorable, lookit this. we match!!!”

★ “i would sell my fuckin’ soul to eat you out on a casino poker table.”

★ loves to lean in, blabbering “babe. babe, we should fuck.” and immediately trips over his own feet and almost faceplants. “cmon, sugar, i still got it. promise. just. gimme a sec to stop seein’ double. . .“

★ tries to be smooth, but ends up being an absolute mess. he's so clumsy and his coordination is absolute garbage. “yer s’pretty. s’gorgeous. wanna—“ hiccup “wanna do bad things to ya.”

★ he is literally groping you in public, so u have to physically drag him home, but he stops you with “no babe, let’s do it right now. what d’you mean we’re in a bar? who cares? they should be honored to watch”

★ Stan tries to take you right then and there. against the bar wall, in the backseat of the car, pressed up against a damn pool table. does not give a single fuck, if he wants you then he wants you, that's it, he's just super clingy and needy when drunk

★ grumbles like a brat if you try to move away. “noooo, no, baby, stay, c’mon, lemme touch ya, lemme hold ya.“

★ during kiss he starts crying over something stupid. i see him as a big fan of animals so im sure hed let his sappy side shown “babe, i—i saw a dog earlier—he had such a lil face—“ then immediately changes topic and sobs into your neck, mumbling about all the things he loves about you. your smile, your laugh, your warmth, the way you always put up with his bullshit

★ he is fucking humping you. rutting against you like a goddamn teenager, grinding his cock against your thigh, moaning into your mouth and whiny as fuck. “babe—babe, c’mon, need it so bad, need ya, fuck, m’hard, babe, please“

★ so needy before he even gets inside you. you grind against him once and he’s whimpering, rubbing his face into your chest, muttering, "fuck—oh, fuck, babe, i can’t, m’gonna fuckin’ die”

★ he lets you do whatever the hell you want to him. has no resistance. tell him to lie back, spread his legs, let you take care of him, he’s doing it immediately. “shit, baby, you can do whatever ya want with me” his words slur when you push him down. Stan loves when you’re in control. he loves feeling helpless with you. “sweetheart, ya got me, got me so good, god, i’m all yours”

★ he needs to kiss you constantly so he kisses you through his own moans, muffling every whimper into your mouth. his lips are swollen, but he keeps going, but if you pull away he immediately whines, pawing at you, pouting. “nuh-uh, sugar, gimme another one, one more, just one more”

★ so goddamn eager to please. he’s already sloppy with his tongue when he’s sober, but when he’s drunk. . . “gonna“ hiccups “lemme eat ya out, babe, lemme—“ he trails off, just shoving his face between your legs

★ if he tries to be cocky, he 100% fails immediately. “y’know i could make ya come in five seconds flat, right, sweetheart?” now that's a bold statement, so you decide to tease him saying “oh yeah? prove it.” as result, he fumbles his belt, gets tangled and falls off the bed

★ the moment you’re alone, he’s all over you. hands grabbing at your waist, cupping your ass, pulling you flush against him. i bet groaning like a slut every time you move. “fuuuuck, babe, y’feel so good—jesus, lemme touch ya, so good for me”

★ literally cannot stop touching you, even after he’s cum. nuzzling into your neck, lazy fingers playing with your clit, begging for second round bc he just cant get enough

★ if you're not here with him when hes drunk, he would absolutely text you smth like “babe ya up? cause m’fuckin’ hard, thinkin’ bout ya” which leads to him sending a dick pic with his thumb in the way. “ffffuck. waitt lemme try again”

★ i love showing that this silly old man doesn't know how to use his phone so here's more: ofc he'd send you “thinkin bout ya. fuck baby, wish ya were here right now.” interesting and very tempting right? you smirk, typing back. “yeah? what would you do if i was?”

Stan: gimme a sec

and you wait, you wait a long time. then your phone dings again with message “FUCK. wait. fuckin camera’s flipped” you raise an eyebrow when suddenly another ding.

stan: HOLY SHIT WAIT NO

you open the picture and it’s literally just his forehead, his fucking forehead. you laugh typing “baby what am i supposed to do with it?”

Stan: jesus fuck i was tryna be sexy. whatever. just get over here n’ sit on my fuckin face instead

it came to my mind so suddenly and i think it's cute so i wanted to write it, can be mullet!Stan or our lovely old man Stan, doesn't matter, this man is clingy and needy as fuck when drunk

so. . . imagine you have to take care of his dumb ass :)

“okay, c’mon, big guy,” you grunt, dragging Stan toward the bed, but he’s completely deadweight. arm slung over your shoulder, mumbling absolute nonsense and you groan about his weight, damn hes so big

“babe,” he slurs, grinning all dopey, cheeks flushed. “babe, yer so fuckin’ cute. cutest person in the whole damn world.”

“yeah, yeah,” you huff, trying not to laugh. “cutest person currently trying to keep your ass from collapsing on the floor.”

“hell yeah, i would collapse for you," he says seriously what makes you snort, finally managing to shove him onto the comfy soft bed. but before you can step away, his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you right down with him. “nuh-uh,” he mumbles, burying his face in your neck. “yer stayin’ here. m’not sleepin’ without ya.”

“Stan.”

“shhh.” he nuzzles closer, his voice already sleepy. “jus’ gimme a kiss, babe.”

you sigh, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. but apparently, that’s not enough. he tilts his head up and looks at you through half-lidded, lips parted.

“mmm. no, sweetie. real kiss.”

“Stan, you’re drunk.”

“m’not that drunk.” he smirks, dragging you down. ”c’mon, sugar. jus’ one.” how can you reject those brown puppy eyes? you kiss him, despite everything, you bring your lips to his, hoping for a light and absolutely innocent kiss, but of course, Stanley immediately turns it filthy, deepening it, groaning into your mouth, trying to pull you on top of him.

“mmm, babe, let's fu—“

“go the fuck to sleep, Stan.”

i could end it right here, but i think that both Stan and Ford, when drunk, will definitely tell you about all their kinks

so you were just trying to get him to bed, but oh no. he’s got something really, really important to tell you. and, of course, he’s whispering it all breathy against your ear. it starts off all sweet snd clingy though, hes saying things like “yer my favorite person ever. ever. fuckin’ love ya. best thing that ever happened to me. wanna keep ya forever. never lettin’ go. nope. yer mine now.” and smothers you in sloppy kisses, your cheek, your jaw, your lips and everywhere he can reach. his hands are wandering, gripping, stroking, but he’s just so damn lazy about it.

and it's not like you dont enjoy it, of course you do, so you let him touch you like that but then he whispers “baby i gotta tell u smth. y’ever think about doin’ real filthy shit?” Stan hiccups and presses his face against your neck. “cause, fuck, i got, like, so many things i wanna do to ya” he pulls back, gripping your face, staring at you all serious. “baby i wanna bend ya over every goddamn surface in this house. countertop. . . table. . . or fuck- fucking you against the wall. shit, babe—just. . . love it when you let me take ya from behind, love seeing that pretty ass bounce. f-fuck, and when ya moan my name like that makes me wanna breed ya.” OH. OH?? damn, your mouth drops open. “Stan—“

“m’serious!” he groans, dragging you onto his lap, rocking his hips up into you. “always wanna fill ya up, sugar. wanna see ya all full n’ dripping” he’s nuzzling into your neck now, biting, groaning against your skin. ”yer so soft, babe. wanna mark ya up. wanna ruin ya so bad. i love when ya pull my hair or when ya get all bratty. fuckin’ love puttin’ ya in yer place. . . or when ya get all sweet n’ beg for it, shit, babe, i’d do anything if ya begged real nice”

he’s rubbing his flushed face against your chest now, breathing heavy, a complete mess. “i love ya. yer the best thing that ever happened to me.”

you sigh, dragging a hand through his hair, smiling despite the fact that ur crazy heart is about to jump out of your chest.

“baby, you’re so drunk.”

he huffs, clinging tighter. “yeah? so what? doesn’t make it less true.”

[koyagifs]

𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾

pairing: yeosang x reader au: idol | best friends to lovers | genre: fluff word count: 1.5 k synopsis: everyone knew how head over heels yeosang is for you. and everyone knew how head over heels you are over yeosang. warning(s): fluff, sweet tooth rotting - literally will get cavities.

It was one of those unspoken truths, like the sun rising in the east or Mingi always forgetting where he left his keys. Everyone knew Yeosang was completely, unapologetically head over heels for you. His gaze would linger a little longer when you laughed, his tone softening whenever he spoke to you. And everyone knew you were just as captivated by him—the way your eyes sparkled when he entered the room or how your voice lit up when you said his name.

The rest of the group was thoroughly amused by it. Wooyoung, in particular, never missed an opportunity to tease either of you about the "mutual pining saga" that, in his words, "could put a K-drama to shame."

San would smirk knowingly every time Yeosang stumbled over his words when talking to you, while Yunho would silently cheer you on from the sidelines, rooting for one of you to make the first move. Jongho and Seonghwa, ever the more composed ones, usually just shared quiet, exasperated glances that seemed to say, When are they finally going to figure it out?

But none of the teasing or quiet nudges mattered because, in your world, it was just you and Yeosang. Even if you hadn’t said the words out loud yet, everyone could see it written all over your faces.

Wooyoung had hit his limit. Watching you and Yeosang dance around your obvious feelings was like watching two magnets desperately trying to stick together but somehow always missing the connection. It was infuriating, hilarious, and tragically adorable all at once.

One evening, after a group hangout where Yeosang spent the entire time stealing glances at you while you giggled at everything he said, Wooyoung had enough. It was near valentines day and Wooyoung had a plan. He flopped onto the couch dramatically and announced to the room, “hey yn, do you have a valentines ?”

You looked at him confused as the room quieted down, Yeosang sending Wooyoung a sharp glare.

"well no i don't but it's a stupid holiday anyways" you mumbled.

A malicious smirk was placed on Wooyoung face as he laid his head on your lap, looking up at you with ease.

" be mine? "

The room froze. All eyes darted between you and Wooyoung, tension thick in the air. Yeosang’s sharp glare deepened, his lips pressing into a tight line. Your cheeks flushed crimson, caught completely off guard by Wooyoung’s bold declaration.

“W-What?” you stammered, staring down at Wooyoung, who was now grinning like a cat that had just cornered a mouse.

“I said,” Wooyoung repeated with exaggerated slowness, his smirk widening, “be mine, Ynie. You don’t have a Valentine, and I’m available. It’s a win-win, right?”

Yeosang’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, but he stayed silent, his jaw tightening. The others in the room exchanged wide-eyed glances, unsure whether to intervene or let the chaos unfold.

You blinked, utterly flustered. “Wooyoung, I—”

Before you could say anything more, Yeosang abruptly stood up, his chair screeching loudly against the floor. All heads whipped toward him as he glared daggers at Wooyoung, his normally calm demeanor completely shattered.

Yeosang’s glare flickered with something deeper—hurt, frustration, and maybe even panic. Without a word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving everyone stunned. The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing in the suddenly tense space.

You jumped up, pushing Wooyoung off your lap with more force than necessary. He landed on the floor with a loud thud, groaning dramatically as he looked up at you, but you didn’t care.

“Wooyoung, what the hell is wrong with you?” you snapped, your voice sharper than usual.

“Hey!” Wooyoung defended, sitting up and rubbing his arm. “I was just helping! You two are painfully slow, and I figured—”

“Figured what?” you cut him off, your anger bubbling over. “That you could just push Yeosang like that? He clearly—”

You stopped mid-sentence, the realization hitting you like a freight train. Yeosang had left because of you. Because he thought… he thought you might actually say yes to Wooyoung.

Wooyoung’s smug grin faded, replaced with a sheepish expression. “Okay, maybe I miscalculated a bit,” he muttered, glancing at the door Yeosang had disappeared through.

You huffed, shoving Wooyoung back to the ground for good measure as you made your way to Yeosang.

" can you two finally kiss to?! I'm tired of the sexu- ow hyung!"

Wooyoung’s cry was cut off as Seonghwa smacked the back of his head with a pillow, his face a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“Shut up, Wooyoung,” Seonghwa muttered, though the slight twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement.

You didn’t stick around to hear the rest. Rolling your eyes, you huffed and stormed out of the room, determined to find Yeosang and fix whatever Wooyoung had managed to break—or at least, whatever Yeosang thought was broken.

As you stepped outside, the crisp air nipped at your skin. It didn’t take long to find him. Yeosang was sitting on the edge of the porch steps, staring out at the darkening sky, his shoulders tense and his head hanging low.

“Yeosang,” you called out gently, walking up behind him.

He stiffened slightly at the sound of your voice but didn’t turn around. “You don’t have to be here. I get it,” he said, his tone distant, like he was bracing himself for the worst.

You frowned, coming closer until you were standing beside him. “Get what?”

“That you don’t…” He hesitated, then shook his head. “Never mind. Just go back to the others.”

“Yeosang,” you said firmly, lowering yourself to sit beside him. He glanced at you briefly, his expression guarded. “You’re being ridiculous. Wooyoung was just being Wooyoung. You didn’t actually think I’d say yes to him, did you?”

He looked down at his hands, his fingers fidgeting nervously. “I don’t know. Maybe. I thought… maybe you’d want someone more confident, someone who could actually tell you how they feel without messing it up.”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his voice. “Yeosang,” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “You’re the only one I want. I’ve wanted you for so long, and I thought you didn’t feel the same.”

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, wide with surprise. “You… you thought that?”

You nodded, smiling a little despite yourself. “We’re both kind of hopeless, aren’t we?”

He let out a breathy laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing as he looked at you with a mixture of relief and adoration. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, the world around you fading away as the weight of unspoken feelings finally began to lift. Then, Yeosang’s gaze flickered to your lips, and his voice dropped to a whisper.

“Can I…?”

You didn’t let him finish. Leaning in, you closed the small distance between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative kiss. It was sweet and perfect, everything you’d imagined and more.

From inside the house, Wooyoung’s muffled voice rang out. “Finally! Thank you! I’ve been waiting for months!”

“Wooyoung, shut up!” San yelled, followed by another loud thud and what sounded suspiciously like a wrestling match breaking out.

You and Yeosang pulled away, laughing softly as the chaos continued inside. He rested his forehead against yours, his smile so radiant it made your heart skip a beat.

“Be my Valentine?” Yeosang asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of his feelings.

You hummed playfully, pretending to think about it, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Hmm… I don’t know. Maybe I’ll have to consider it—”

Before you could finish, Yeosang’s hands moved to your sides, his fingers finding the perfect spots to tickle you. You let out a surprised squeal, squirming as laughter spilled from your lips.

“Yeosang!” you protested between giggles, trying to push his hands away, but he only grinned mischievously.

“Say yes,” he said, his voice full of laughter as he continued to tickle you.

“Okay, okay!” you managed to choke out, your laughter echoing in the quiet evening air. “Yes! I’ll be your Valentine!”

He finally relented, his hands dropping back to his sides as he leaned back slightly, a triumphant smile lighting up his face. “That’s what I thought,” he said, his tone teasing but his eyes soft and full of affection.

You huffed, still catching your breath, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Yeosang.”

“And you’re lucky you said yes,” he shot back, his grin widening.

The two of you sat there for a moment, the world around you feeling brighter and warmer despite the cool evening air. Inside the house, the muffled sounds of bickering and laughter reminded you that the others were probably eavesdropping, but you didn’t care.

Right now, it was just you and Yeosang, and for the first time in forever, everything felt perfectly right.

[stxrsniolo]

ㅤㅤִㅤ ݁ ꉂ just this once ᴖ ֽ ㅤᷭ

ㅤ﹙ 𝟑𝟑𝟑 ﹚ㅤּㅤㅤ˻ㅤaegan is typingㅤ˺⠀⠀tread carefully, my dears, for the words that follow are not for the faint of heart: what lies ahead is smut, a dance of desire that might just set your pulse racing. proceed if you dare.

warnings: explicit smut. rough sex. dubious consent. anger issues. trauma. ptsd. emotional vulnerability. hurt/comfort. power dynamics.

pairings: harsh leader!matt × fresh meat!reader

a/n: i literally spent hours looking up military-style terminology to write this, and even though i'm not entirely satisfied with the results (especially because not having prior knowledge about some of the terms and still using them makes me uncomfortable), i'm posting it because i find it interesting and i'm not going to throw away all the effort i put into it.

you can create your own experiences with harsh leader!matt with this c.ai bot here!

═══════════════════════════ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . 　 ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

the door to y/n’s quarters slammed shut with the force of a breaching charge, the sound ricocheting off the cinderblock walls like a gunshot. matt didn’t bother with the deadbolt—nobody in this godforsaken facility would have the balls to walk in on him, not when he was like this; he was a live grenade, fresh off a sit-down with the brass... those smug, pencil-pushing assholes who thought they could dress him down like some fresh-faced private.

his fists were still clenched, knuckles white like he was gripping the hilt of a combat knife, and the fury was a living thing, coiled in his chest, ready to detonate. he needed a target, and of course, she was the only one in mind. y/n didn’t even flinch when he stormed in, didn’t bat an eye as he started pacing like a caged animal, his combat boots pounding the concrete floor. “fuckin’ desk jockeys,” he snarled, his Boston accent thick, the words sharp as razor wire. “sittin’ there in their pressed uniforms, tellin’ me how to run my ops like they’ve ever held a goddamn rifle. I’d like to see ‘em last ten seconds in the field. Fuckin’ REMFs.”

rear echelon motherfuckers. he didn’t need her to answer, he didn’t want her to. he just needed her to take it, to absorb the blast wave of his rage. but then, like always, it shifted. one second, he was pacing, spitting venom; the next, he had her slammed against the wall, her wrists pinned above her head in a bone-crushing grip. his mouth crashed into hers, all teeth and tongue, no softness, no hesitation. it wasn’t a kiss; it was an assault, a hostile takeover as she didn’t fight him. not because she couldn’t—she’d gone toe-to-toe with him before—but because she wanted this. wanted him, even if neither of them would ever say it out loud. now, she was on top of him, straddling his waist on the narrow cot, her thighs clamping around his sides like a vice, but she wasn’t riding his cock, not yet, no, she was grinding her wet, aching pussy against his abs, the hard ridges of muscle slick with her juices as she moved.

her hands were braced on his chest, nails raking across his skin, leaving red welts in their wake while matt’s hands were on her hips, his grip bruising, fingers digging into her flesh like he was locking a mag into place. he guided her, controlled her, his biceps flexing as he forced her to move faster, harder, her clit dragging against the taut, slick surface of his abs, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through her body, making her gasp and moan like a bitch in heat. “fuckin’ tease,” he growled, his voice low and guttural, like the rumble of a humvee engine. his eyes were locked on her, dark and feral, watching the way her tits bounced with every movement, the way her lips parted as she panted for air. he could feel her wetness soaking through her panties, could smell her arousal, thick and heady. his cock strained against his fatigues, throbbing, aching to be buried balls-deep in her tight little cunt, but not yet, he wanted her desperate, begging, wanted to see her break before he gave her what she wanted. when he finally flipped her over, it was like a combat maneuver: swift, precise, no wasted movement. he yanked her panties down her thighs, the fabric tearing in his haste, and shoved her legs apart with his knees, his cock sprang free as he unzipped his fly, thick and hard, the head already glistening with pre-cum. he didn’t bother with preparation or warnings, didn’t bother with anything gentle, he just lined himself up and thrust into her in one brutal motion, burying himself to the hilt. she cried out, her back arching off the cot, her nails digging into his shoulders as he stretched her open, filled her completely. “fuck,” he grunted, his voice rough as gravel. “tight as a fuckin’ virgin.” he didn’t give her time to adjust, didn’t give her a chance to catch her breath, he pounded into her, hard and relentless, the cot creaking under the force of his thrusts. his hands gripped her hips, pulling her back onto his cock with every stroke, driving himself deeper, harder. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with her moans and his low, animalistic grunts. he didn’t care about her pleasure, not right now; this was about him—about the rage, the frustration, the need to dominate, to control. he fucked her like he was trying to break her, like she was just another target to be neutralized.

when he came, it was with a guttural growl, his cock twitching as he spilled inside her, filling her with hot, thick cum. he didn’t pull out right away, staying buried inside her as he caught his breath, his chest heaving like he’d just finished a ten-mile ruck march. then he rolled off her, collapsing onto his back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. she didn’t say anything, just turned onto her side, her back to him, pulling the thin blanket over herself. the space between them was a no-man’s-land, cold and silent but he didn’t care. he didn’t need her to stay close, he didn’t need anyone. sleep came fast, but it wasn’t peaceful, it never was for a soldier. the dreams hit like an ambush, dragging him back to the hellhole of his childhood: the fire, always the fire, and he was ten again, trapped in the house as the flames roared around him, the heat blistering his skin. the screams—his mom, his brothers—were drowned out by the crackle of burning wood, the shriek of collapsing beams. smoke filled his lungs, choking him, and the panic was a living thing, clawing at his chest, and he tried to move, tried to run, but his legs were lead, his body frozen, leaving him helpless like a scared little boy who couldn’t save anyone. he woke with a start, his body jerking like he’d been hit with a defibrillator, his chest was tight, his throat raw, and he realized, with a sickening clarity, that he was crying. hot, silent tears streamed down his face, soaking into the pillow; he hadn’t cried in years, not since the fire, not since he’d learned how to bury the pain deep enough that it couldn’t touch him, but now it was all flooding back, the memories like shrapnel tearing through his mind. he turned his head, his blurred vision landing on y/n, who was still asleep with her back to him, her breathing slow and steady. she looked peaceful, untouched by the chaos in his head and he hated her for it. hated how easily she could sleep, how she wasn’t drowning in the same nightmares. but he needed her. just this once. he moved before he could stop himself, sliding closer until his chest pressed against her back, arms wrapping around her tightly, desperate, like she was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. he buried his face in her hair, the scent of her—sweat and sex and something softer—grounding him, pulling him back from the edge. she stirred, a small sound escaping her lips, and then she turned in his arms, her eyes fluttering open. for a moment, she just looked at him, her gaze soft, unguarded, but she saw the tears eventually, the raw, broken look on his face, and something shifted; she didn’t say anything—thank fuck, because he couldn’t handle words right now, instead, she reached for him, her hands gentle as she cupped his face, her thumbs brushing away the tears. she pressed soft kisses to his forehead, his cheeks, his jaw, her lips warm and soothing against his skin, fingers sliding into his hair, stroking gently, and she pulled him closer, letting him bury his face in the crook of her neck. “it’s okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, like she was afraid to break the moment. “i’ve got you.” for once, matt didn’t push her away, didn’t tell her to fuck off, didn’t shove her back into her place, intead just held on, his grip on her like a lifeline, his breathing ragged as he tried to pull himself together. she didn’t let go, her hands moving in slow, comforting circles on his back, her lips brushing against his temple. it was soft, tender, everything he didn’t deserve, but for the first time in his life, he didn’t care. he needed this. he needed her. just this once, god, just this once, and he'll repeat those words until he believes them.

ㅤ﹙ 𝟑𝟑𝟑 ﹚ㅤּㅤㅤ˻ㅤaegan is typingㅤ˺ᅟ⠀ i appreciate the love shown through reposts, but let me be clear: my tales are not to be copied or adapted without a whisper to me first. my words are my treasure, and i guard them jealously.

my baddies: @courta13 @chrislilcumslvt @marrykisskilled @chrislova @sturnshood @inspiredangel @strnilolover @emely9274 @sturns-mermaid @blushsturns @ariieeesworld @pixie-sticks-are-good @luvjaeeee @sturnslutz @mattswifeyy

in case that you desire to be tagged in future works, here's the taglist.

[wifelivvyx]

Hi! I love ur George Weasley fics they’re so cute can I just request a general reader fic with George about them spending time at grimmauld place together? Just very wholesome giggling and bonding thank you! <3

omg tysm!! sorry this took a few hours.. hope this is close to what you asked for!! feel free to comment if i did anything wrong or if it was correct

۶ৎ

Grimmauld Place wasn’t exactly the most cheerful location in the world, but with George Weasley around, even the dreariest corners of the old Black family home seemed a little lighter.

Y/N sat cross-legged on the dusty drawing room floor, surrounded by a mix of crumpled parchment, half-eaten biscuits, and a few enchanted trinkets George had smuggled in. A small, charmed paper bird flitted above them, occasionally dive-bombing George’s hair.

“Alright, that’s the third time you’ve attacked me,” he grumbled at the bird, swatting at it playfully. “I think your spells are getting a little too good, love.”

Y/N giggled, leaning back on her hands. “Maybe it just doesn’t like your hair. Too unruly.”

George gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “I’ll have you know this hair is a Weasley trademark. Irresistible, iconic-”

“Uncontrollable?” Y/N supplied with a teasing grin.

He huffed, flicking a bit of parchment at her. “I invite you to a cozy night of absolute nonsense, and this is how you treat me?”

“Cozy? We’re literally sitting on the floor of a house that might be haunted.”

“Makes it an adventure,” George said brightly, scooting a little closer. “And besides, I’d say we’re making it rather cozy. We’ve got snacks, mischief, and, most importantly, me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Oh, of course. You make everything better, don’t you?”

“As a matter of fact,” he said, nudging her shoulder with his, “I do.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the occasional snap and crackle of the low-burning fireplace. The house felt less oppressive like this - just the two of them, away from the worries of the outside world.

George suddenly poked her side, making her yelp. “What was that for?” she asked, swatting at his hand.

“You looked too peaceful. Thought I’d spice things up.”

“Oh, you’re asking for it now,” she warned before launching a counterattack, tickling his ribs.

George let out a loud, undignified laugh, squirming away. “Oi! No fair, I-”

“Say mercy!”

“Never!”

Their laughter filled the room, echoing off the old walls until they finally collapsed in a heap, breathless and grinning.

As they lay there, George turned his head to look at her, his smile softening. “You know,” he said, voice quieter now, “I really like nights like this.”

Y/N glanced over, meeting his warm gaze. “Me too.”

“Good,” he said, reaching over to flick a stray bit of dust from her cheek. “Because I think we should make a habit of it.”

She smiled, nudging him playfully. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

And as they lay there, surrounded by half-eaten biscuits and laughter lingering in the air, Grimmauld Place didn’t feel so dark after all.

[babybearnation]

Lando and reader being a chaotic gremlin couple, causing chaos wherever they go

-🦊

lando is SUCH a chaotic gremlin oml

lando norris x gn!formula 1!reader (chaotic gremlin headcanons)

cw: suggestive

mclaren staff hate you two

the other drivers hate you two

even the fans hate you two sometimes

hell, other teams hate you two because you distract their drivers

you two are too chaotic and they don't know how to handle it bcuz they could barely handle lando on his own prior to your arrival

when you two find something funny, its like a pack of hyenas fucking spawned in the middle of the paddock

you two laugh SO LOUD and for SO LONG that it really does piss people off sometimes

its not uncommon for one or both of you to fall off your chair from laughing too much

you know how lando broke max's trophy in 2023 and then the go pro on one of the champagne bottles in 2024? yeah no, that's tame compared to what you're like on the podium

you got on the podium once and broke the fucking railing trynna spray everyone with champagne

the only reason you didn't fall off the podium is because lando pulled you back at the last second

yeah, you got fined for that but you literally didn't care

drivers, especially oscar, hate to be in the same hotel as you (and i say especially oscar because, as lando's teammate, he has no choice but to be in the same hotel)

why? you two are SO LOUD and you fuck like rabbits

you actually didn't realise how loud you were until you forgot oscar was hosting a mini get together in his hotel room and about 8 different drivers came and banged on the door at the same time, yelling for you to shut up

its very rare for you to be upset around lando bcuz he will try everything he can to make sure you are happy and smiley and if that means making a fool of himself, then so be it!

and he knows you'd do the same for him so he really doesn't care what other drivers or the media have to say about it

if you two are battling for the wdc, or even the wcc, he'll turn it into a game - who can do the most overtakes? who can win by the biggest gap? who can blow the most kisses toward the other in the middle of an overtake? oh.. its only lando doing that last one? oh okay, not as annoying for everyone else then

lando is not afraid to suck on the straw of your drinks bottle in front of everyone just to tease you

you always snatch it out of his hand, lick it, wink at him, and then walk away and leave him to be chastised by his fellow drivers

any time oscar or your teammate wins a race, you and lando will team up together to douse said teammate in champagne

you do it for each other too because its sort of a tradition now tbh

although, to be fair, the only reason lando lets you do it to him at all is because he got you with two bottles at once one time and not only did he nearly chip one of your teeth with one of the bottles, he also made you fall sick because the double dose of champagne was that cold

but also, any time you win a race, he will straight up try and finger you in the middle of the paddock and everyone hates that because that's a literal crime and also gross, so you've learnt to stay away from him until you get to the hotel

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[saturnbellfromhell]

Roasting your Moon Sign

Welcome back everyone to a little silly goofy post. I haven't been on the app for a long time because of my school, work and internship, but now I can proudly say I've finished a big chapter in my life and can't wait to be back writing, posting, chatting! Hope you all enjoy this easy-going post and don't take it to heart, it's just a fun time, not a serious time.

〰️ If you're easily offended by jokes and giggles don't read this post, most of my friends, family and people I know are some if these signs, so don't take it so far. In the end I will ne roasting myself as well. :)

➰️ARIES MOON

Why so explosive all the time? I know your emotions run wild, but being so dramatic won't get you anywhere. Take a nap sometimes will ya. No nobody thinks you're annoying all the time, just sometimes. We still love our divas.

➰️ TAURUS MOON

Sleeping again? Shopping again? Fighting over food with your significant other, aren't you? No, you can't get that puppy, you're too lazy to take care if it. Also, we get it, you love art and have the best taste in movies. You do have a nice decorated house, I'll give you that.

➰️GEMINI MOON

Yes, you're so different. Yes, we are all boring in your eyes. No, it's not cute to have an avoidant attachment style. Yes, your shoes are amazing, no, I wouldn't wanna go shopping with you. Why are you constantly buying new apps on your phone? Did you forget about your old friends again because you found a new group of people?

➰️ CANCER MOON

The moody bitch you are, always complaing about how stressed they are even though they cried 2 years ago. Do you always wake up and remember what food you didn't eat in a long time? I know for a fact you would be mad if I showed up at your house without an invitation. Do you also hate traveling because you're too scared to leave the safe place of your house or because you hate leaving your house?

➰️LEO MOON

We get it, you're always right. Yes you are loud yes you are annoying at times, but lovable aswell. Does everybody need to know your bf/gf treats you like a princess? Stop buying so much gold jewerly! You're moving in with a celebrity?

➰️ VIRGO MOON

So how was your day? No,no not work, not the new cleaning appliance you bought, how was your day? O the Turkish eggs at brunch were too cold when served and your dermatitis came back? And you deleted your "sad girl playlist? Damn that's harsh, but your eyeliner is still phenomenal, hope you have a good week even though I know you haven't had a normal week in a long time queen.

➰️LIBRA MOON

No I can't remember all your situationships, boy toys and playboys and wasn't Mark your ex in fucking elementary school, how'd you find him again? I know you're into pilates, you told me that 5 times already. No I don't want to get botox after 2 shots of tequila. Tramp stamp tattoos are cute, sure.

➰️SCORPIO MOON

Ok...yes your ex was a whore and that ex best friend really did lie to you. No don't get in your car and crash it into their house and than set it on fire and watch the flames feather out. Stop looking at me with those serial killer eyes! No, we will not stalk your boss because you think she's having an affair. Yes your knife collection is hot.

➰️ SAGGITARIUS MOON

We get it...you love porn. Yes we get it, you're so loose and easy going and so open and so talkative. No, blondy at the bar is not staring at you, she literally is sitting with her husband...You're moving to Malta? And you got a job in Thailand? And you're 2nd wedding is on the coast of rural Australia??

➰️ CAPRICORN MOON

Is your favorite movie still American Pyscho? O really, you still have the same routine as him, interesting. We get it, yes, you're an introvert. Yes people are gross, yes your cat is amazing. You got into Harvard Law?? On a random Tuesday and you got your Masters? Still fighting with your dad eh...yea, he's a cunt.

➰️AQUARIUS MOON

Can you stop being in your head for 10 minutes damn. And also can you stop talking about your feelings and just start you know...feeling them? Still trying to figure out why society is weird and you feel left out? You spent all your money on your library cards, are you serious..

➰️PISCES MOON

You broke up with your dismissive,back stabbing, crazy ex again? That's the 10th time this month. No, you don't love her, she's literally using you. No, we are not doing MDMA at a carnival to forget everything. Where have you been, why were you taking a walk for 5 hours?

That's all for now, hope you giggled a little. Love all my signs at the end of the day, we are all a little too much at times. Can you guess which I am...😅

[jooyeonsvape]

— candy kisses

genre; smut

w/c; 1.5k

pairings; student!yeonjun, female!reader

warnings; literally the entire thing. pure smut.

[masterlists]

a/n; i made a soobin angst yesterday and im excited to share this one to you <3 im doing beomgyu soon, so follow for the updates!!

one day you were a simple student, always stayed in line, and got good grades; the next, you were running to the utility room inbetween classes to visit yeonjun.

he was the complete opposite of you which intrigued you even more to him, he had piercings in his ears, with tattoos across his chest and arms but they were covered by his uniform.

you look at the wall clock and tap your foot impatiently which made your friend tap your shoulder from behind. “are you okay?” you just nod and turn your head with a comforting smile, “i just need to use the bathroom, i wish class would end already.”

the teacher tells the class everything he wants you to study for on the next test and you knew in 5 minutes yeonjun would be deep inside of you.

finally, the bell rings and you pull out the lip gloss yeonjun liked you to wear, applying it skillfully on your lips, “i’m going to the bathroom, bye.” you tell your group of friends as they crowd around your desk and leave quickly.

you go at a small jog down the hallway to avoid suspicion from others and look around when you make it to the closet, opening it slowly.

it was dark in the room from the window being covered with boards and you lock the door behind you.

“yeonjun?”

“over here, what took you so long?”

you follow the voice and a lamp turns on so you see the face of yeonjun. he was sculpted by the gods, his body proportions were perfect and he never had a bad hair day.

“i was trying to not get caught.” you smirk at him and sit down on his lap, looking down to show him you weren’t wearing underwear.

he smirks back at you and kisses your lips without saying anything about you going commando. yeonjun moves your hips slowly so you were rubbing against his growing dick and hums, pulling away from the kiss.

“you put on the lip gloss that tastes like candy.” you chuckle and nod, still grinding on him at a slow pace. “and you’re wearing the cologne i like.” his cheeks blush at being caught, “i didn’t put it on for you, i happen to like it as well.”

you roll your eyes and yeonjun bites his lip, giving your ass a slap under the skirt you’re wearing. “i have 20 minutes to do whatever i want with you.” he closes eyes slowly at your grinds and when he gets hard enough, he reaches down, rubbing your clit.

“did you come to school with no underwear for me? you aren’t showing your pussy to anyone else right?” yeonjun growls the last part in your ear while he rubs and you shake your head, “only for you.” he nods gently and slides two fingers inside your cunt.

you yelp loud at the feeling of your tightness being stretched by his long fingers and his free hand slaps across your mouth. “you know we have to be quiet baby girl.”

you nod quickly and whine against his hand as he fastens his pace, but it wasn’t enough. you were dreaming about him all weekend and you needed it rough.

yeonjun chuckles at your impatience when he notices you starting to bounce on his fingers, “needy today huh?” you nod again and he pulls his hand away from your mouth.

“take off your shirt please,” you breathlessly whimper, his tattoos being your biggest turn on and he abides, unbottoning the shirt until it fell off his shoulders.

his muscles flexed when he pulls his fingers out of you and admires the glistening wetness on them, while chuckling, “damn baby girl, you really are needy.” he takes the fingers that were just inside of you and licks them clean, making your pussy clench from the erotic sight.

“i think i just found a new turn on.” you whisper and kiss his mouth hungrily before sliding his dick out of his pants, “mmm, i guess i’m not the only needy one.” you admire his hard cock by jerking it a few times, wanting to see his reaction.

he tilts his head back against the chair and tried to focus on not moaning. you smirk to yourself and align his tip to your lips, dragging it back and forth to get him wet.

he groans lowly and grabbed your hips, pushing his dick deep inside of you. “i can’t wait any longer baby, it was such a long weekend.” you whine in his ear and kiss the skin softly while he thrusts his hips upwards.

yeonjun stopped his movements so he could take off your shirt until you were just left in your skirt and you start bouncing on his dick fast. “such a good girl.” he whispers in a groan, watching as your boobs bounced with your speed.

he leans in and takes your left nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud while his hand gripped the other in his big hand. you moan softly and breathe hard from the feeling, “i love when you suck on my titties, thats all i think about during class.”

yeonjun looks up at you through his eyelashes while he still sucks on the nipple and pulls away. “i bet your pussy was soaked the entire day thinking about me huh?” he smirks and you nod with a moan.

he skillfully lifted you up while he was still inside of you and flips you over so your ass was facing him. “god, imagining your wet chair while you thought of my dick makes me want to do disgusting things to you.”

you lay your cheek against the desk he was just sitting at and turn to look at him, “then do it, i’m not scared. you could make me cum just by looking at your face.” you moan quietly and push your ass out so he would go deeper.

yeonjun lifts your skirt without saying anything and gives you a hard slap while pounding into your pussy from behind. “i’m already close, you have the best and worst effect on me.” he chuckles and slaps your ass hard again, making the skin turn red.

you hide your moans by biting on the shirt he just took off of you and squeeze your eyes tight from a mix of pain and pleasure. “harder.” you mumble in the shirt and yeonjun slaps your ass harder then rubs the area with his hand.

“you won’t be able to sit down in class if i do it more baby girl.”

you groan and look back at him again, “i don’t care.”

he slaps the already red skin and continues to pound into your pussy with a groan. “im about to cum,” his mouth hung open when he found his release, his cum shooting deep inside.

just as you were about to cum with him, the door handle starts jiggling and a sound of keys was heard.

yeonjun pulls out of you fast, and hides the both of you under the desk quickly, putting you ontop of him so you could both fit.

you bite your lip when you hear a class president entering the room looking for cleaning products and pray they don’t come to the desk.

yeonjun sighs in your ear when the student starts rummaging through the closet, and cursing to themselves because they couldn’t find it.

the light was turned on so yeonjun had a perfect view of your body he hasn’t seen before and he begins sliding a hand down your stomach. you give him a ‘don’t you dare’ look, but it was too late.

his fingers found your sensitive clit and starts rubbing slowly, making your body jolt. you didn’t trust yourself so you grabbed his other hand and put it over your mouth like before while the student searches.

yeonjun holds you close and rubs faster on your nub, kissing the side of your neck lovingly which made your orgasm approach fast.

you grab his arm and dig your nails in his skin while he wets his fingers, sliding them inbetween your pussy lips again. “rub” he says as low as possible and you obey, rubbing your clit fast while he stuffs his fingers deep inside.

it took less than 30 seconds before you were cumming and the student left the closet. yeonjun stayed in the same position even though the coast was clear and pulls his fingers out slowly while you still rub your sensitive clit.

“that was so fucking hot.” he chuckles and removes his hand from your mouth, then getting out from under the desk. you pant at the pleasure you just had and start getting dressed.

“i can’t wait for 4th period tomorrow now.” you chuckle and kiss his lips hard when he finishes getting dressed as well. “the bell is about to ring, i’m gonna head to class, leave 5 minutes after i do.”

he nods at your set rules and before leaving, you bend down slowly to pick up an earring you purposely dropped. “oops,” you tease while yeonjun focuses on your still wet pussy under your skirt and the red ass he gave you. “nope, we’re skipping next class, get over here now.”

my requests are open, check out my guidelines before requesting, just to make sure i do it!! thank you!

[paperbackpanic]

Hiii, if you’re still open to requests, may I suggest either Tim/masky or EJ (or anyone you prefer really) with a super femme S/O who’s just really crass. Like they love all things cute and pink but they’ll take every opportunity to say the most outrageous thing they can think of

EJ and Masky with a hyper fem s/o who says outrageous stuff

A/n: hii!! Omg I loved this request specially because I'm kinda like that? I mean my mouth sometimes runs faster than my mind and I end up saying outrageous things but it is not, like, on purpose most of the time and I really like dressing super fem! I also really love writing for EJ and Masky :D. Sorry for the long rant I'm kinda lonely and need to run my "mouth" out a bit, anyway I hope you enjoy!!

A bit of a content warning for NSFW and generally gross topics but nothing too explicit.

Eyeless Jack

🎀 honestly you too contrast so much is kinda comical. EJ is the dark serious silent type and you are a cute and pink agent of chaos who honestly can talk a lot, specially considering you take every opportunity to say absurds.

🎀 Is pretty hard to surprise/get him off guard but when he first meet you he was pretty surprised, he thought you would be the shy "feminine energy" super polite girl you being really crass caught him a lil bit off guard

🎀 He isn't bothered by the things you say, he honestly find the fact that you're crass quite interesting

🎀 Yap sessions Yap sessions!! You'll let all of your wildest thoughts run out of your mouth and EJ will sit and listen. He won't judge but sometimes a thing you said will generate a long philosophical discussion about why you think that and he usually says something like "you do/say that just because you like to go against the norm or is it something deeper?" to start it off

🎀 You asked him once if his semen could be dyed with food dye BEFORE it came out of his body. It technically can? But like only because you can "tint" the urethra a bit with the dye but it involves a catheter and he's not going to put one in his dick because you want to see how much food dye would take to make his cum neon green. No matter how much you tried to convince him he won't budge ☹️☹️

🎀 You know that scene in some random old movie that I don't know the name with Marilyn Monroe that goes something like that:

"I know more than 200 ways to kill a man"

"You could glue a jar filled with rats to someone's face and then light a torch on the bottom so it would start to heat up and the rats would try to run away by chewing the person face off ☺️"

"201"

That's you two.

🎀 The only time when he will ask you to shut up and be polite is when you need it for your safety. I mean not everyone likes crassness and the most violent creepypastas would kill you without a second thought if you irritate them too much so he'll make sure you know beforehand when it's dangerous for you to be your true self

🎀 As I said in previous headcanons Jack doesn't really see stuff so he doesn't have a solid opinion on your style of clothing, he likes the texture of it though. Ruffles are great to run his hands through

🎀 Over time he just kinda stopped listening your crassness like, not in the literal sense but sometimes people around him point out and he's just "oh I didn't notice" he just filtered out that what you were saying was crass and just registered "my s/o is talking"

🎀 Overall a pretty good relationship, you two balance each other very well

Masky

🎀 He doesn't really like people who are crass or being crass himself. He's too old for that, but he will put up with you out of love.

🎀 Overtime he grew used to how you are, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't look at you like you're insane when you say something particularly out of pocket. Like creeps usually do stuff that's not really polite or demure but they don't typically say stuff out loud (or at least they shouldn't)

🎀 Your cute style is really a pro in his list on why he put up with your bullshit. It might not look like it but he has a soft spot for cute things

🎀 yapping with him might be a little difficult, he will listen to you of course he's not a bad boyfriend but he will shut you down pretty quickly if you're trying to convince him of doing some weird experiment or saying something particularly absurd.

🎀 He will use stuffed animals, cute clothes, nice dinner dates etc. to bribe you to be at least less crass when the situation call for it. You will shut up and be polite and not crass if he just asks nicely but you can't help but exploit him a little on this aspect and I can't blame you

🎀 if you ask him, he will gladly give you some lessons on good manners. He likes you however you are but this is something he thinks you can work on...

🎀 shuts you up with kisses. I will not elaborate

🎀 He has a secret ranking of most outrageous stuff you said to him/near him is only 5 itens long but he likes looking at it from time to time when he's missing you.

🎀 Assuming the Creeps exist in the same universe as us and not in a separate one: you told him about Twink Masky. He did not like it. It was funny

🎀 Despite everything he loves your personality, even if your crassness can be considered a "flaw"

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 25 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

⋆˚࿔ Book 2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇druses screentime

────୨ৎ─��── ────୨ৎ──── ───

With that, he hauled her out of the tent, ignoring their grumbling as he made his way through the ruined camp. The warprize stayed silent, her expression carefully blank, but Acrisios could feel the tension in her body. She was waiting for an opportunity to run. He tightened his grip. Not happening. When they finally reached Telemachus’ tent, Acrisios shoved her inside.

Telemachus sat at a makeshift war table, fingers pressed against his temple. He looked up, his eyes tired, his face gaunt from stress and sleepless nights. He barely spared the woman a glance before sighing. “Tell me you have good news,” he muttered.

“Oh, better than good,” Acrisios said, smirking as he pushed the warprize forward. “Our little captive here just confessed that she let herself get kidnapped so she could rat us out.” Telemachus’ expression darkened. His gaze flickered to the woman, who swallowed but held firm.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “We’ve lost more than half our men because of that ambush.” His voice was low, simmering with restrained anger. “We’re outnumbered, our supplies are running low, and now we’ve lost Florus—the only person who could actually keep us fed and stitched together.” The warprize flinched but didn’t say a word.

Acrisios tilted his head. “So, what are we doing with her?” Telemachus was silent for a long moment. Then, slowly, his expression shifted—his lips curling into something that almost looked like amusement.

“We’re using her plan,” he said simply.

Acrisios blinked. “Come again?”

Telemachus finally looked up at him, his blue eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “She snuck in under the guise of a warprize. We’re going to do the same thing.”

Acrisios’ brow furrowed. “You seriously think one of us can pass as a warprize?”

Telemachus smirked. “Not just anyone.” He leaned forward. “Druses.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Acrisios snorted.

Telemachus raised a brow. “Something funny?”

Acrisios wheezed, pressing a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. “You—you want Druses, Druses, the guy who literally tore through soldiers like a rabid dog, to dress up as a Greek warprize and sneak into the Skiaphian camps?”

Telemachus leaned back, entirely unbothered. “He has the most feminine features of all of us.”

Acrisios was dying, barely holding back his laughter. “Oh my gods, you’re serious.”

Telemachus’ smirk widened. “Deadly.”

Acrisios lost it, doubling over, his laughter shaking his entire frame. “You better pray Enyo doesn’t smite you for this—she’s gonna be pissed when she sees her favorite little bloodhound dressed like a woman.”

Telemachus rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the amused twitch of his lips. “Druses will manage. And if he gets caught, well…” His smirk turned sharp. “Let’s just say they won’t be keeping him in chains for long.”

Acrisios was still wiping tears from his eyes when Telemachus stood. “Go find Druses,” he ordered. “Tell him we have a new mission.”

“Oh, I cannot wait to see his face,” Acrisios said, grinning as he turned toward the exit. This war was hell. But at least, for now, there was some entertainment.

——

The sun had barely crested the horizon when the entire camp was jolted awake by the sound of furious yelling.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!”

Druses’ voice boomed through the camp, loud enough to rattle the sparse equipment still scattered across the ruins. Soldiers peeked out of their tents, bleary eyed and confused, as Druses stormed through the center of camp, his long black hair wild, his purple eyes blazing with outrage. “This is insulting,” he raged, gesturing wildly with a bundle of fabric clutched in one hand. “You think I’m going to—what—paint my face and prance around like some delicate little maiden?”

Cassander, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, leaned against a post with a bemused grin. “I mean, you’ve already got the hair for it.”

Druses whipped around, pointing a threatening finger at him. “Say that again, Cassander. I dare you.”

Eurymachus was struggling to keep a straight face. “Come on, Druses,” he teased, arms crossed. “You’ve got those long lashes, soft skin—really, you’ll make a beautiful warprize.”

“Fuck you,” Druses spat, throwing the bundle of clothes onto the ground. “This is undignified! Insulting! I am not dressing up like some trophy just because—”

Acrisios, barely suppressing his laughter, stepped forward, clapping a hand on Druses’ shoulder. “It’s not about the looks, Druses,” he said, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. “It’s about strategy.”

“Strategy?” Druses echoed, eyes narrowing. “You mean humiliation.” He shoved Acrisios’ hand off, glaring daggers at anyone who dared to snicker. “I’m a warrior—a killer. Not some—some—bait.”

Telemachus, leaning casually against a stack of crates, finally spoke up. “We need someone who can infiltrate their camp without raising suspicion. You’re the best fighter we have—and the only one who could realistically pass as…” He trailed off, lips twitching. “A warprize.”

Druses’ glare could have set the whole camp ablaze. “You can’t be serious,” he seethed. “You want me to doll up, chain myself, and parade into the Skiaphian camp like some helpless captive?”

Acrisios, failing to hide his grin, shrugged. “Think of it as—uh—method acting.”

Druses growled, his fists clenching at his sides. “I swear, if any of you so much as comment on this, I’ll slit your throats in your sleep.”

Cassander leaned toward Eurymachus, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Do you think he’ll wear lipstick?” Druses lunged, nearly knocking Cassander over before Acrisios pulled him back, laughing.

“Relax, Druses,” Acrisios said, grinning wide. “Just imagine the looks on their faces when you break free and start tearing through their ranks.”

Druses huffed, crossing his arms. “This better work,” he muttered darkly. “Because if it doesn’t, I’m taking all of you down with me.”

Telemachus smirked, arms crossed over his chest. “Oh, it’ll work. You’ll make sure of it.” Druses glared, but there was no denying the dark excitement that flickered behind his eyes. This was humiliating, yes—but if it got him closer to the enemy, closer to vengeance, closer to tearing them apart from the inside…

Maybe he’d wear the damn dress after all.

——

Druses was seething.

Standing in his dimly lit tent, he yanked the delicate fabric over his head with all the aggression of a soldier sharpening a blade. The sheer material brushed against his skin like an insult, and the metal cuffs around his wrists—meant to mimic the restraints of a proper warprize—felt wrong.

“If any of them say a single word,” he muttered under his breath, violently fastening a golden sash around his waist, “I’m gutting them.”

He was just about to pull his long black hair into something remotely presentable when a chill ran down his spine. A presence—familiar, electric, chaotic, swept through the tent like a rush of battle drums.

Druses froze.

A low, delighted chuckle echoed through the space.

“Well, well, well.”

His entire body tensed. Slowly, he turned his head. There, lounging casually on his cot, was Enyo. The war goddess herself,, her piercing eyes gleaming with amusement as she took in the sight before her.

And then—

She cackled.

Druses’ eye twitched. “Oh, this is rich,” Enyo wheezed, clutching her stomach as she rocked back in laughter. “My champion, my ruthless, bloodthirsty little war dog—dressed up like a fragile maiden, guess I’d have to call you Enyo’s damsel!”

Druses clenched his fists, his face burning hotter than a battlefield at noon. “Shut up.”

Enyo only laughed harder. “Look at you!” she gasped between fits of mirth. “All dolled up like a proper damsel. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were preparing for a wedding instead of war.”

Druses gritted his teeth. “It’s a disguise.”

“A disguise?” Enyo wiped at her eyes, still grinning. “Druses, you look like you’re about to be gifted to some warlord.”

Druses’ entire body stiffened. “That’s the point.”

Enyo smirked, resting her chin in her palm. “So you’re telling me,” she purred, “that you’re willingly walking into an enemy camp, dressed like that, pretending to be some helpless little warprize?”

Druses swallowed down the urge to strangle something. “Yes.”

Enyo let out a long, exaggerated sigh, shaking her head. “What a fall from grace,” she said dramatically. “One moment, you’re slaughtering men by the dozens. The next, you’re playing dress-up.”

Druses glared. “Do you have a point?”

Enyo’s smirk widened. “I just came to check on you, darling. But this?” She gestured at him—the flowing fabric, the painted lips, the utter humiliation draped across his face. “This is the best entertainment I’ve had in centuries.”

Druses exhaled sharply through his nose. “I hate you.”

Enyo beamed. “Oh, I love you, my little princess butcher.” She leaned in, voice dripping with amusement. “Now, go out there and make me proud, won’t you, damsel?”

Druses’ grip on his belt nearly snapped the fabric in half. By the time Enyo disappeared, still chuckling to herself, Druses was left standing in the middle of his tent, fists clenched, face burning, and very much considering throwing himself into the nearest fire.

This was humiliating.

And worst of all?

She wasn’t wrong.

—— Antinous strode through the camp with his usual air of confidence, stretching his sore shoulders after the morning’s brutal training session. The place was still in shambles from the ambush, but that didn’t mean there weren’t sights to appreciate amidst the chaos.

That’s when he saw her.

Or at least, he thought it was a her.

Standing a few paces away, a figure draped in soft, flowing fabric stood near one of the tents, their long, wavy black hair cascading down their back in a way that caught the dimming sunlight just right. Their form—small-waisted, hips accentuated by the golden sash tied snugly around them—looked enticingly feminine.

Antinous smirked to himself. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath, his usual cocky attitude kicking in. Without a second thought, he sauntered up behind them, let out a sharp whistle, and brought his palm down in a playful, solid smack against their ass.

The moment his hand made contact, he knew something was wrong. The muscles under his palm were too firm. The reaction—too fast. Because instead of a surprised giggle or a scandalized gasp, the figure went rigid. And then, very slowly, they turned around.

Antinous’ smirk froze.

Druses’ face was a picture of murderous rage. His striking purple eyes burned with the fury of a thousand battlefields, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like he was seconds away from biting something clean off. The delicate makeup dusted across his features only served to make his expression look even more terrifying.

Antinous blinked. Then blinked again.

“Oh, shit.”

Druses’ nostrils flared, his entire body shaking with barely contained wrath. Antinous, to his credit, only took a step back—not because he was scared, but because he was trying very hard not to burst out laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he finally said, grinning ear to ear. “Druses?”

“I am going to gut you like a fucking pig,” Druses snarled, fists tightening at his sides. Antinous, instead of apologizing like a normal person, laughed.

A deep, genuine laugh. “Oh, this is too good,” he wheezed, leaning against a tent post for support. “No wonder they picked you for the job.”

Druses took a threatening step forward, and Antinous put his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, hey—no need for violence, princess.” Druses lunged.

Antinous barely dodged the punch that came hurtling toward his face, still laughing as he backed away. “Alright, alright! I’ll stop!” Druses didn’t stop. Because he was out for blood.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

@f3r4|frOgg3r @permanently-nothere

@eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world @simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches

@sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa@doodle-with-rhy

@0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl

@dazedemery @tsmaruchan @xo-cuteplosion-xo

@galaxygurIll @pjopinkk @h0ne4bee

@minteaspoon @zendoesstuff @yuvany @i-liketoast

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Uhh Tenjiku or Toman x yapper reader but reader is very insecure about it? If you've done it before then feel free to ignore this 🫶

Tenjiku x Yapper!Insecure!Reader

♡ SFW, fem reader, fluff, reader goes quiet randomly ♡

Characters: Izana, Kakucho, Ran, Rindou, Mucho, Mochi, Shion

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Izana

🎴 Entirely too used to you yapping and running your mouth about the most random things

🎴 He might look like he's ignoring you but he's always paying attention on the low (he remembers everything)

🎴 If you're ever too quiet he'll fold and get all mushy with you

"Why are you so quiet? You know I like hearing your voice."

Kakucho

💗 Listens when you talk and adds his opinion sometimes (or tells you to not do something you were going to do because it's dangerous)

💗 He loves when you go on rants about your interests and the things you love because you look cute doing it

💗 He never tells you to stop talking but will politely inform you of social cues you should recognize when you're around other people

"You know, I think Izana is in a bad mood, maybe you shouldn't speak to him right now."

Ran

💜 Teases you about your yapping even though he doesn't mind it

💜 Has threatened to wring your neck before if you didn't shut up (he swears he was joking)

💜 He gets snippy sometimes if you talk too much while he's trying to sleep, but if he thinks you're sensitive about it he'll apologize

"I'm sorry princess, you know I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just trying to sleep right now...go ahead and finish what you were saying."

Rindou

🩵 Listens to you half of the time, if he's not listening to you he's probably wearing headphones and listening to music

🩵 Argues with you just to piss you off because he knows you'll never shut up about it

🩵 Encourages you to talk to him whenever you go quiet

"You okay? Wanna talk about something?"

Mucho

💙 Loves you very much but thinks you're annoying sometimes

💙 Refuses to suffer alone so he invites Sanzu to hang out with you two, it balances things out since he's so quiet

💙 Covers your mouth with his hand because he's too polite to say shut up (but not polite enough to understand personal space)

"You're loud princess."

💙 Makes sure that you know he loves you, even when you're irritating him

Mochi

🍡 Calls you motormouth (affectionately)

🍡 Will whoop ass for you, only he gets to pick on you for talking too much

🍡 If you're quiet for too long he'll poke fun at you, though he's genuinely concerned

"C'mon motormouth, where's that attitude of yours?"

Shion

♥️ Both of you are yappers, but he's more of a background Yapper who'll add onto what you're saying

♥️ He's basically your hype man and supports everything you say, even when it's questionable

"Honestly, arson shouldn't even be a crime."

"It's not a crime if you get away with it."

♥️ Nips at your lip when you're too quiet (he aggressively loves you)

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx @evergreen-endo @hanmaslilslut @dystop4in14nd @mysouleaten @mdsbabygirl