#people always think i mean PASS OUT pass out but i always mean fall asleep where im sitting

[soobnny]

no other heart — best friend!kim seungmin x reader ; only one person can ever persuade seungmin to do anything (1.4k words)

happy bday seungmo! you are my favorite person

Seungmin feels Hyunjin before he even sees his face.

He comes in the form of a hand falling firmly on Seungmin’s shoulder, and the first thing the younger boy thinks is that your hands are supposed to be smaller.

The house that they’re in is loud, and really really crowded. It’s a setting that Seungmin doesn’t often take part in, preferring the quiet sounds of his airconditioning back at his room.

There is also a sharp contrast in how the boy favors his music. While he’s currently surrounded by the thrumming of music that beats in his ears, he would rather be at the dorm in the comfort of his lifeline (or, for better words, his collected playlist for the month).

From the corner of his eye, he sees his oldest friend, Chan, talking to a set of faces he’s never seen before. He wonders how the older boy does it. Seungmin has no plans of starting a conversation unlike Chan, not when he’s overstimulated by the flashing lights, and the confusing aromas wafting from the red cups that everyone seems to be holding, and the hand on his shoulder that most definitely is not yours.

“Seungmin, you came!” That’s also definitely not your voice.

“Hyunjinnie.” He breathes out, head muddled by his sudden urge to go home despite just having arrived around half an hour ago. He doesn’t sound as enthusiastic as his friend, but Hyunjin gives the boy a pass. Besides, it’s not everyday you see Kim Seungmin out past 10 in the evening, more less at a party.

Seungmin shifts a little from where he’s standing, just enough for Hyunjin’s hand to fall limp by his side. If you knew him less, you would think he was being rude. However, his indifference does a lot in calming his friend down.

He still has a distaste for parties. At least, this way, Hyunjin knows that no force has taken over Seungmin for his sudden appearance.

“Not to be mean, I’m just genuinely curious. How come you’re he—”

“Seungminnie!”

He shifts his attention to the sound.

There’s your voice, finally your voice, loud and clear to the boy, enough to be heard over the music and the voices and the heat.

There’s a sudden understanding that crosses Hyunjin’s features, and he says something on par with how Seungmin would only ever go to anything if it was you who asked.

“Ah, of course you’re here, (name). That must be why he’s here too.” Hyunjin giggles, sending a wink that looks more like a blink to the both of you before he disappears into the crowd.

Whatever he means.

Hyunjin has always had a knack for being cryptic anyway.

There is no proper greeting when Seungmin finds you, only a flick on your forehead.

“What’s wrong with you,” he says, but there is no grit in his voice. “You asked me to come here, and left me waiting for you for thirty minutes.”

“I was late.” You smile sheepishly, taking his hand in yours before dragging him along the pool of people to lead him outside.

He should be used to it now, the ease in which you link your hands together, as if there’s no need for a warning anymore when you’ve known each other for this long. Still, Seungmin finds it unfair. He needs it, needs the warning before you take his heart hand like this.

“You shouldn’t be asleep on a Friday night like a senior citizen.”

This senior citizen came out all the way here for you, he thinks.

“‘M going home now,” is what he chooses to say.

“No!” You suddenly stop in your tracks, just when you’re about to reach the grassy fields of the backdoor of whoever the hell owned this house.

It makes Seungmin stumble over, feet in a hurry to plant themselves on the ground so he doesn’t crash into you. When you turn to face him with a scolding look on your face, the only thing he can think about is how awfully close you are.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to proximities like these with you. “I’m already here, don’t you want to be with me?”

Seungmin sighs because he does, really does, but not in the way you’re asking right now.

“Plus, there’s supposed to be a comet tonight. I think we’ll be able to see it from here.” Your hand latches back on his, pulling him outside where the cold breeze of the night air greets you.

“There’s been a comet every night since last Wednesday.”

“But the city doesn’t quite get a view of it like this.”

By his fate, because he can never say no to you, he watches the comet falling just as you mention it.

Seungmin supposes you’re right. It is a little nicer out here compared to the light pollution of the city, and there’s a good enough distance between where you are and the painfully loud music of the house, and he doesn’t have to deal with anyone but the one person he cares about.

He chooses not to think about the eventual teasing that’s bound to come his way.

He knows Hyunjin’s spreading word around, that Kim Seungmin is actually here, and his friends already know why.

Because you’re here. What other reason does he need?

And Seungmin supposes he can sacrifice a few hours of sleep. Despite begrudgingly coming here, he doesn’t think he’d be able to trade the way you look right now—with your eyes soft and enchanted, and your features highlighted by the soft glow of the moon, and the small, but fond smile playing at your lips.

“It’s so beautiful.”

“It is.” He’s not looking where you are, and you’re too painfully distracted by the falling comet and the thousand stars blanketing the night sky to notice that he’s only ever looked at you tonight.

“Seungmin?”

His breath hitches when you suddenly turn to him, and there is no other coping mechanism he can think of but clearing his throat and looking anywhere but your eyes.

You take the moment where he’s too distracted to wrap your arms around him.

Seungmin freezes at the contact, the nudge in his heart so visible on his face. It’s a shame you have your head buried on his chest to notice the way he suddenly relaxes, hand gingerly resting on the small of your back for a second before wrapping himself entirely around you.

“Why’re you hugging me all of a sudden?” It sounds like he wants to say more, but he remains hesitant. Instead, he pulls you just a little closer.

“Thanks for coming. I know you hate going out to stuff like this, and I really do feel bad for practically forcing you. But, at the same time, I’m just really happy you came too.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing to feel bad about.”

Fuck, the way he says it is so awkward, and he cringes at himself for feeling this nervous around you. He tries to steady his pulse, tries to stop the rapid way in which his heart beats because he knows you can hear it.

“I stole your sleeping hours, of course I feel bad. Plus you hate parties, and yet you came here anyway.” You loosen your grip to look up at him.

You’re ill-prepared to see the tenderness in which his eyes are looking at you right now. He does that sometimes. You’ve never quite figured out why.

“Because you asked me to.” He tells you, really tries to tell you without saying too much. “I’d do anything if it was you who asked me, stupid girl.”

It feels like more of a realization to himself, and he doesn’t really want you to think about what he means. At least not tonight, not in the same night he’s come to find out just the lengths he would go through for you. His lips are parted like he wants to say more, but he decides against it. Still, his very few words will leave you blushing for the next few days after tonight and strike up a few realizations of your own.

Seungmin has known, and he’s known what he was signing up for—when he’d come here, when he’d pick you up, when he’d answer your calls at two in the morning.

He likes you a lot, and no other heart will ever make him act this way.

Not like you do.

So, for now, he’ll keep doing anything if you ask him. He’ll keep showing up until he’s ready to commit to the How To Confess scripture. He’s a simple boy, after all.

A simple boy with a simple heart that beats only for you.

[m00ngbin]

I feel like barf and I spent a bunch of time stress studying for a bunch of exams that are two months to a year away so I can't say that my commentary is going to be spectacular and everything that these next two chapters deserve but by god I'm going to try and that's all that I really need to do anyways

[gatorbites-imagines]

Logan begging for it.... so sweetly we cant refuse..... when he knows reader needs his sleep..... taking it in his even when it stays soft...... cockwarming reader while we sleeps.....

Yes im writing whis as I fall asleep

Logan Howlett x male reader

headcanons

I was gonna write a longer thing, but a migraine decided to kick my ass all of a sudden, so here I am simply rambling about this.

Imagine having a normal but exhausting day job. You’re no hero, no vigilante, no nothing, you’re just a guy. And you somehow ended up charming the pants off of The Wolverine of all people. How? You have no idea

Dating Logan is a real treat, even with his roughness and sometimes standoffish personality. When you guys really get close, he starts to get more vulnerable.

Along with vulnerable emotionally, he also starts to get a much stronger libido, seeing as he has a partner now. Him having a healing factor doesn’t help you in this case, since it means he has very little recovery time.

Seeing Logan, one would think hed be the dominant one, something you assumed in the beginning too. That was until you guys got intimate the first time and he shoved you onto your back to ride you instead.

There were no complaints from you obviously, because who’d mind having someone like that riding you? Logan in his broad, hairy and so very heavy way, lifting himself up and down on you like it was barely a workout.

You have to remind him to be careful though, multiple times, seeing as his bones make him extra heavy, and your poor hips are that of the average person.

Having a partner with a libido like that though, also means Logan is always raring to go, almost waiting for you by the door when you get home from your shift, like an old gruff dog waiting for affection.

The first week or two of you coming home dead on your feet and passing out on the couch the moment you sat down passed… as well as they could for Logan. He wouldn’t force you to do anything you hadn’t agreed with, but God, is he starting to get antsy.

After way too long, in Logans opinion at least, he finally can’t take it anymore. Being the Loverboy he secretly is, he at least brings you to your shared bed before clambering on top of you again.

You’re just too exhausted to do much other than pet at his thighs, eyes already drooping, but his almost timid but so desperate begging keeps you awake longer than other days. When you sleepily agree, Logan kisses you so hungrily you almost lose your breath.

You stay somewhat awake in the beginning as he works your clothes off, being kind enough not to rip it even if logan really really wanted too. He knows its your work clothes, and you’ve scolded him enough times about ripping up your clothes at this point.

It was hard to even really stay awake as Logan worked you hard, just enough for him to slide down on you, his groans sounding like he was a starving man having his first bite of food in weeks. Had you not been struggling to keep your eyes open, you might have teased him.

When Logan leans forward and just rests his weight on you, that was the last straw. Who could stay awake with such a warm heavy weight pressing down on them, like your own personal weighted wolverine blanket.

Logan didn’t even really feel the need to ride you or get himself off, he just wanted to be close to you like this, to feel you inside him and press up against you. So having slowly doze off under him wasn’t a bother, especially as you mumble for him to just keep going.

Most of the night is majorly used by Logan to just tuck his face into your neck and huff your scent, or rub his own against you. You will wake up with beard burns, sorry but those at the rules. Theres probably some chew marks and hickeys mixed in there too, Logans possessive.

You do wake up with very sore hips the next morning. In the comics he’s 300 lbs, but that’s with his comic height, so if were going off of movie Logan he weighs even more. And no matter how much you work out, that’s gotta make you sore.

You don’t really mind though, especially as Logan makes sure you massage your hips in ways you didn’t even know were possible. This also just gives Logan an excuse to lick and gnaw at you more, and to rub more of his scent into you, and yours into him.

Yes, you limp that day, and probably the day after. Luckily you’re able to work from home. This of course also means you have Logan on your dick the entire time, even if its just your mutant lover crawling under the blanket to get his mouth on you.

[totally-here]

dpxdc twins au except it's no-pulse flavored

Bart’s new roommate looks a lot like Tim. 

Like, suspiciously like Tim. 

Danny’s the same height, has the same shape of nose, same shade of hair, and even frowns like him. He would have been a perfect copy if he acted more like Tim, but Danny definitely holds himself looser than Bart’s ever seen Tim. 

But he still has his face. So, obviously, Bart has to investigate. Maybe he’s a clone, or a shapeshifter, or maybe one of the Gotham rogues decided to get facial reconstruction surgery to look like him, and this was all a ploy. 

Okay, probably not that last one. Bart doesn’t think Tim’s enemies know his identity. 

Anyway, investigation! Bart’ll figure this out himself, and deal with it if Danny needs to be dealt with. And the investigation will start right after he comes up with an excuse as to why he’s back in their third floor apartment when he passed Danny in the hallway a few seconds before. 

Danny stares at him, and Bart stares back. 

“Must’ve been a doppelganger!” Bart blurts out. 

Danny’s silent for a second before nodding enthusiastically and noting that everyone's supposed to have like seven in the world anyway and wow what a wild coincidence that there’s one in their building. 

Bart extends the same courtesy when a week later he walks in on Danny with an iced over pan on the stove. Danny says they should really get their freezer checked out and Bart agrees and asks if he can use the ice for a painting study. 

(They never get their freezer checked.)

Bart finds that Danny’s great at setting up fun things for him to draw, whether he knows it or not. Like the ice, or his collection of rocks, his astronomy textbooks with the pretty covers, his gestures as he rants about his classes, the excited glint in his eyes when he’s talking about his next repair project and how his eyes almost look like they glow in the right light. 

Hm. A good portion of his sketchbook is drawings of Danny, and yet he’s still having trouble with getting the right blue for his eyes. At first glance they’re Tim’s shade of blue, but when he keeps looking they seem to get lighter. Maybe greener?

He should probably stop staring into his friend’s eyes. 

Well, maybe not. Danny doesn’t seem to mind. 

Just like he doesn’t mind when they started regularly sitting very close on the couch, or falling asleep together, or Bart borrowing some of his jackets, or-

Okay, Bart’s kinda seeing a pattern. He and Danny should really have a conversation about if this is platonic behavior or not. 

But not right now, because Bart brought Danny across the river to raid Wally’s board game closet in Keystone. 

And Wally, who’s used to this, just passes by them with a, “Hey Bart, hey Tim.”

“Danny, not Tim,” Danny replies almost absent mindedly, then looks back at Wally, who’s also staring at him now. “Wait, you know Tim?”

“OhmyGod I was supposed to investigate!” Bart says, face palming. It just slipped his mind! And Danny was distracting him with his pretty face that he totally wears better than Tim!

“You know him too?” Danny asks. But he doesn’t look suspicious of them, more amused. 

“How do you know him?” Wally squints at Danny, eyes briefly catching Bart’s in question. 

“He’s my twin,” Danny answers easily. “The Drakes only wanted one kid, so they gave me to their friends the Fentons, who wanted a second one.” He shrugs and goes back to digging around the closet. “Tim and I were always in contact, though. Letters and phone calls and texting, you know?” 

He says it all so casually while Wally and Bart are sharing increasingly concerned looks behind his back. 

Do the Waynes know about Danny? Has Tim never brought him up? Why? Does Danny know about Red Robin? Does Tim-

“Holy shit does this mean Tim has ice powers too!?” 

Or: Tim and Danny are twins. Through a series of coincidences, the first people to find out that aren’t Fentons or Drakes are the flashes.

(This post was brought to you by me recently finishing the 1995 Impulse run, and wanting an excuse to share this panel:

Look they both got called twinks clearly they're soulmates)

[ghostfacd]

𝙄𝙉 𝘼 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙇𝘿 𝙁𝙐𝙇𝙇 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙀𝙉, 𝙃𝙀’𝙎 𝘼 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x fem!slytherin!reader

genre: fluff, sweetheart enzo, brief suggestive content, enzo is a big softie basically

summary: in a world filled with men, there’s lorenzo berkshire, a sweetheart and gentleman

Lorenzo Berkshire was a sweetheart.

Everybody knew that the down to earth Slytherin couldn’t hurt a fly even if he wanted to, and weirdly did not fit the stereotypical mean Slytherin persona despite hanging with Draco and his friends.

In fact, a lot of things that Lorenzo did were out of the ordinary for his crowd of people. Whenever Draco would pull a first year by their backpacks so their bodies would fling back, Lorenzo always muttered an apology after, offering the first year a cookie the next day. It was just who he was; he was a sweet boy, and that often meant he was also very clueless.

Sure, he was smart in his classes, but in everything else? Lorenzo was practically the virgin of all virgins.

“Her eyes are up here Enzo,” Pansy teased, watching as Lorenzo’s eyes finally shifted off your chest to look at Pansy in the eyes.

“Huh?”

“Well I know they’re nice,” you tease further, “but it’s rude to stare, y’know.”

“Oh,” Lorenzo’s eyebrows furrow, clearly confused. He’s either great at playing the dumb role or he genuinely has no idea what you and Pansy are inciting.

“What do you mean?” Lorenzo then moves his hand over to touch the gold colored necklace on your neck. “I was just looking at the new necklace you got. It’s nice.”

Oh. You didn’t think anyone would notice your new necklace. You bought it over the holidays when you went back home with your family, and had just started wearing it now.

“Thanks Enzo,” you say, placing a kiss on his cheek. He pulls back flustered, but he mutters a you’re welcome under his breath.

“LO BOY!” Lorenzo is quickly pulled into a headlock by no other than Draco Malfoy, who seems to find his friend struggling hilariously funny. “Oh what’s wrong Lo? Got your head in a knot?”

“Boys.” You and Pansy mutter, rolling your eyes as you both get up from your seats, heading to the much more quiet Great Hall.

- - -

The next time you see Lorenzo is in your Potions class. He’s on the left of you, and you’re almost falling asleep at the boring lecture of your professor. He always seem to talk more than actually teach how to mix potions.

“Pssst,” Lorenzo mutters to your partner as he hands her a slip of paper. “Be a peach and pass it to Y/N?”

Your partner, who has developed a little crush on Lorenzo only blushes, accepting the piece of paper and tapping you on the shoulder.

“Here,” she says, “it’s from Lorenzo.”

Your eyebrows quirk up, slowly unfolding the crinkled paper.

Your hair is pretty today

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile. Lorenzo just knew how to swoon a girl over, didn’t he? He doesn’t even have to try and your knees would still feel weak.

So my hair isn’t pretty on other days?

You scribble down, passing it back to your partner who passes it to Lorenzo.

His eyes grow wide when he reads it, opting to shake his head quickly.

“Not what I meant,” Lorenzo mouths.

“I know,” you mouth back, giving him a smirk. “Thank you Enzo.”

And you both end up more pink than the potions that were made in class that day.

- - -

“What do you even do in your free time?” Theodore asks, poking Lorenzo’s cheek repeatedly to annoy him. “Like read?”

“Like read?” Lorenzo mimics back. “Yes, I read. You should too Teddy, it’d be good for you.”

Theodore rolls his eyes, “I don’t need to read. And don’t call me Teddy.”

When you arrive in the dining hall, Theodore and Lorenzo already make a space for you to sit in between them. Usually, Pansy and Draco would be sitting across from the three of you, but today, they were off doing Godric knows what.

“Pans and Draco not here today?” Lorenzo asks, still focusing on the assignment he was finishing up before dinner ends.

“Nope,” you say, popping the p. “No idea what they’re doing.”

“Oh,” Theodore chuckles, “I have a few ideas.”

That makes the two of you burst out laughing, and Lorenzo finally looks up from his paper.

“What?” He asks. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh Enzo,” Theodore places a hand on his friend’s back, “never change.”

Lorenzo rolls his eyes, shrugging Theodore’s hand off. “Whatever that means.”

When Theodore finally heads off to the Slytherin common room, you and Lorenzo are left alone, the small conversations of the other students surrounds the two of you.

“Working hard on that assignment,” you say quietly to Lorenzo, bringing up your hand to pull a few strings of hair that were poking his eyes.

“Well someone’s gotta be the smart one in our friend group,” he says teasingly.

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not smart?” Your hands start to wander, coming to each of Lorenzo’s sides to tickle him. He was especially ticklish around his abdomen.

“H-hey! Stop that!” He laughs, pushing your hands away. “Okay okay, we’re both the smart ones.”

“And Pansy,” you add.

“And Pansy.”

- - -

When you walked out to the lake that sat across from the Slytherin common room, you didn’t expect to find Lorenzo feeding the ducks. He was crouching, softly throwing a few pieces of crushed up bread at the ducks that now surrounded him.

“What are you doing Lo?” You ask, walking beside him.

“Not too loud,” Lorenzo says, “you’ll scare them away.”

He continues doing what he does before he runs all out, deciding to finally turn to you and throw an arm around your shoulder. “Evening.”

“Evening Enzo,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was out of habit, and you did it regularly, but it didn’t stop Lorenzo from blushing every time it happened.

“I was feeding the ducks,” he explains, although it was pretty clear what he was doing. “I like them, they’re nice and pretty. Draco sometimes throws rocks at them, so it’s kind of my way of apologizing for him.”

You ruffle Lorenzo’s hair slightly, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “Oh Enzo, you sweetheart.” But he doesn’t hear you, instead, choosing to admire the scenery of the lake.

- - -

“You know what’d be funny?” Mattheo says, already laughing before he could get out the rest of his sentence. “If we pied the girls. Pansy and Y/N.”

Lorenzo’s ears perk up at this, but he keeps quiet. Why was his friends always looking to get into trouble?

“They’d totally kill us,” Theodore comments.

“That’s why we have to do it.”

The boys had already gotten two pies and their plan figured out before Lorenzo could stop them. He watched as they hide it behind their backs, approaching you and Pansy who were both engrossed in your conservation.

“Wait,” Lorenzo mumbles, quickly following his group of friends. When he sees their hand from their back move as they speak to you and Pansy, he steps in front of the two of you, getting hit straight in the face with the two pies.

“Huh..” Lorenzo says, wiping away the whipped cream that was covering his eyes. “Key lime.”

“Enzo,” you say, knowing that this was probably one of Mattheo or Draco’s dumb ideas again. “You guys apologize to Lorenzo right now.”

The three boys sigh defeatedly, muttering a quiet sorry to their brunette friend who’s still wiping the whipped cream from his face.

“Why’d you do that Enzo?” You ask him as the two of you sat down on the grass. You’d finally got all the whipped cream off his face with a towel, and although Enzo won’t admit it, he was kind of grateful he did end up getting pied. After all, a pretty girl was cleaning him up after all, and not just any pretty girl, his close friend.

“Cause you’re too pretty to get pied.” He shrugs, which makes you smirk.

“Too pretty?”

“Well yeah,”

You laugh at Lorenzo’s honesty, and finally, you lean in to give him a kiss on the lips instead of the side of his cheek.

“Did you just-”

“Shh,” you say, grabbing ahold of his hand. “Just let me appreciate you right now. In a world full of just men, you’re a gentleman Enzo.”

And Lorenzo only smiles, knowing he’s finally got the girl of his dreams.

[fanficgirl429]

Mike has a feelings for you (fluff)

Prompt: While babysitting Abby she tells you that Mike has a crush on you

Pairing: Reader x Mike Schmidt

----

“I can’t believe I have to fucking work today,” Mike says, pulling his gray security shirt on. “I told them I can only work during the week!”

Your best friend scrambles around the living room, looking for his phone, keys, and wallet- all of which are in various places. You are currently sitting on the couch, watching all of this unfold. He was always leaving his items in various places. How many times had you told him to leave them in the same spot?

He finds his keys and phone and shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Where is my wallet?” he says, running his fingers through his already messy brown hair.

“Did you check your room?” you ask.

He quickly leaves the room and returns moments later with his wallet in his hand.

Mike let’s out a sigh and looks over at you. “Are you sure you’re ok watching her? I can always call Max.”

“I don’t mind watching her at all,” you tell him.

You stand up and walk over to your best friend. Wrapping your arms around his waist you pull him into a tight hug. He instantly relaxes and wraps his arms around you.

“You have no idea how amazing you are,” Mike tells you, smiling.

You laugh as Mike takes a step back and towards the front door.

“Thank you so much for watching her,” Mike calls. “I owe you!”

“Hey Abs,” you say, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “What are you drawing?”

Abby smiles and passes you the sheet of paper. There is a white house with a large tree and three people standing out front. A man, a woman, and a child.

“You have to tell me who everyone is,” you say, pointing to the three people.

Abby stands up and comes to sit besides you on the bed. Her small hand points to the man on the page, “That’s Mike,” she moves her hand to the woman, “you,” and points to the child, “and that’s me.”

You weren’t shocked that you were drawn- Abby tended to draw the three of you alot. Mike and you had been best friends since middle school and you loved Abby like she was your little sister. Most of her drawings were things the three of you had done together or what she wanted to do with the two of you.

“And who’s house is this?” you question.

“We all live there together,” Abby states.

“Oh, that sounds fun,” you reply.

“Yea! Because you and Mike are going to get married!”

Abby’s comment throws you off. Not once has she ever asked about your and her brother's relationship.

“What makes you think we’re getting married?”

“Because Mike has a crush on you,” Abby says, shrugging.

You laugh. “No he doesn’t.”

Abby nods her head. “Yes he does. He says your name a lot in his sleep.”

“But that doesn’t mean he has a crush on me,” you tell her.

Abby’s silent for a moment then answers quietly. “You make him smile and laugh and he’s always happy when you’re around. He’s not like that around anyone else.”

Her answer surprises you but kids are very perceptive. Instead of pressing any further, you tell Abby to start to get ready for bed.

“Do you have a crush on Mike?” Abby askes as you tuck her in to her bed.

“Oh…um…yea, I do,” you tell her.

Little does Abby know but you are in love with her brother.

Abby smiles and nods and you turn the light off, closing the door behind you as you walk back to the living room.

—-

Abby falls asleep quickly and you sit in the living room watching tv. Your mind keeps going back to conversation with Abby. Does Mike really have a crush on you?

Abby doesn't know it (well maybe she figured it out) but you’ve had feelings for Mike for a long time. You loved your relationship with Mike and didn’t want to jeopardize it so you never made any indication or moves towards him. You had hoped that maybe he would be the first one to make a move but he never did.

All of the sudden it hits you, how tired you are. You stand up from the couch and stretch and slowly walk back towards Mikes room. This isn’t the first time you had slept over. Many times after Abby had gone to sleep, you and Mike would stay up together, hanging out. At first Mike insisted that you sleep at his house but now he didn’t even have to say anything- you would just crash on his bed, next to him.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep and a few hours later, the bed dips slightly as Mike lays down next to you- waking you but only for a brief moment.

—-

The sun peeks through the curtains in Mikes room and the smell of bacon and pancakes wake you up from your sleep.

The spot on the bed next to you is disheveled -the only evidence that Mike has slept there.

As you lay in bed for another minute, you hear voices drifting down the hallway. You can’t make out what they are saying but you can tell it’s Mike and Abby.

Standing up, you walk into the hallway but hang back for a moment- waiting to see what they are talking about.

“Did you know that Y/N had a crush on you?” Abby tells Mike.

“How do you know?” you hear him ask.

“She told me,” Abby states matter of factly.

It’s then that you decide to walk into the small kitchen. Abby and Mike are both sitting at the small kitchen table, eating bacon and pancakes.

“Morning,” you say, walking over to the coffee maker.

“Morning,” Abby and Mike say at the same time.

Mike's hair is sticking up in various directions and he looks like he just woke up. His dark t-shirt hugs his frame and you know he’s wearing his favorite pair of flannel pajama pants.

“I’m going to go draw,” Abby says, leaving you and Mike alone in the kitchen.

Mike watches as you pour yourself a glass of coffee but don’t turn around to face him.

“So,” he begins. “Abby told me something interesting…”

“And what was that?” you question, although you already know the answer.

“She said that you have a crush on me.”

“Oh. Why would she say that?”

“She said that you told her you did.”

You turn around to face your best friend, your eyes locking with his. His cheeks are slightly pink and it makes you feel better that this conversation might be slightly embarrassing for him as well.

“I-uh-,” you stammer.

Mike stands up and walks over to you and your back presses against the counter. He slowly moves his hands to your waist, waiting to see how you’ll react. When you don’t move away, he grips your waist, his brown eyes locking with yours.

“What if I told you that I had a crush on you?” he says.

A soft smile crosses your lips and Mike reaches up and places his hand against your cheek, his thumb moving in small circles.

You move your arms up and snake them around his neck, waiting for him to make the next move. His body is pressed against yours and you can feel his heart pounding against his chest.

Within moments, he leans down and brushes his lips against yours before pulling away.

“Why did you stop?” you tease him.

He smiles as his presses his lips against yours and they move together, almost as if the two of you had done this before.

[pomefioredove]

having a crush on you

summary: how they would act having a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel) additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy

he's slowly losing his mind about this

"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind

it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this

hasn't even really thought about it

so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance

and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell

he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"

(maybe a little too well)

but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed

he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs

so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it

in his head

and then does nothing about it for months

...what? he's busy

things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling

well... it doesn't pass

he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt

and you know what?

he is totally cool about it.

just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards

he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up

which again, just makes him crazy

(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)

I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!

there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate

is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...

the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad

he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him

and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves

just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one

(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)

while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you

you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping

you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!

your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it

he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always

but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone

the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else

when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself

why?

he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known

he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all

for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break

(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)

is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.

this is Rook we're talking about

on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute

he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling

seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...

definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room

along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over

(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)

you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often

or a few cans of tuna for Grim

all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference

except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day

Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling

though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy

Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey

and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you

he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard

𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫

first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much

second of all he's going to beg for a chance

maybe not in that exact order

Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal

not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy

suddenly he cares about looking nice

(much to Vil's approval)

and now he wants to do nice things for you?

he's gonna bite you

how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!

don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!

then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.

he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship

...yeah, right? right.

if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...

he might be okay with it!

obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you

starts making comments about how tough practice was on him

will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again

he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)

obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling

(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)

but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess

super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way

[eunimaybe]

౨ৎ — ni-ki dating idol you

idol!ni-ki x fem. reader | things ni-ki do when he’s dating you as an idol

genre: fluff, est. relationship | wc. 0.6k ♡ a/n: this was a request but i accidentally deleted it helppp. to the anonnie who requested this: i hope you enjoy!

when ni-ki first saw you whilst passing by at a music show, he was SHOCKED.

he couldn’t believe anyone could be this attractive.

let me tell you, he was trying to find a way to impress you without: a. having to talk with you, b. having to meet your eyes and c. being close to you. — more under cut!

he didn’t have to worry. you were into him as soon as you saw his performance.

you were the one who asked him out because he was lowkey too scared (he’d never admit that)

you have no regrets ^^

ni-ki likes to post little things of you on weverse - never enough to let others know your identity but enough to let them know that he has a special someone.

he probably posts mostly blurry empty frames where a bit of your long hair is in shot, or a picture of you two holding hands together.

ni-ki has caused some conversation within his fan base because he’s always wearing your hair tie on his wrist.

it’s sprayed with your perfume and he brings it around EVERYWHERE

ni-ki loves it when you two have a dance challenge together - but he always ends up getting distracted by you and just stares at you dancing whilst wondering how the hell he got so lucky.

ni-ki calls you every night just to hear your voice. he loves falling asleep to your singing.

he’s probably such a menace on twitter holy shit. he argues with your antis and comes crying to you when he gets doxxed.

ni-ki always goes to your concerts to watch you perform, and he knows you recognize him. he gets so excited when you look at him in the eye.

he walks by your waiting room at music bank on purpose in hopes to see you in the halls. (he pretends he’s never walked past.)

ni-ki loves playing games with you during the night on call. he says he’ll win but you end up carrying his ass.

ni-ki is often the person recording your vlogs for you, watching you fondly as you talk to the camera about your day.

he talks about you to his fans A LOT. he thinks he’s being smooth with it but lets be so fr. everyone knows he’s at least got a little crush on you.

people always wonder what music ni-ki listens to with his iconic marshall headphones. the answer? your songs. you songs on loop. all. day. long.

ni-ki loves lending you his hoodies, he thinks you just look so cute in them. you sometimes wear them in your lives, which has caused some words to spread.

ni-ki is always the first one to know if you change your hair colour, and you always know first when he changes his.

ni-ki probably gets so nervous when you get stage outfits that don’t look secure. he’s more worried about your wardrobe malfunction than you.

if he gets a seat close to you in award shows, ni-ki is in heaven. he’s experiencing intense euphoria. what do you mean he gets to stare at the back of your head for hours?

ni-ki’s phone wallpaper is a picture of you, a photo he took himself when you two were out on a rare date amidst both of your busy schedules.

he pretends he isn’t thinking about you every second of the day, but really you’re all he can think about.

ni-ki’s head over heels for you lets be fr.

[faebaex]

TWST Characters - Big Spoon or Little Spoon?

author note: don't ask me what provoked this, i'm writing these silly little headcanons so that i can get it out of my head so i can write the things i'm supposed to be writing! forgive me for my slowness (｡T ω T｡)

characters: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw & Octavinelle

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts

Little spoon who thinks he is a big spoon

He will try being both the big spoon and the little spoon respectively

But in his ACADEMIC opinion, he will declare that he is the big spoon

But despite how he insists that he is the big spoon, most nights he ends up falling asleep in your arms

If he wakes up in the middle of the night he’ll groggily try to rearrange but it doesn’t always work

Don’t tease him about it, sometimes he just needs the comfort of being held

Little spoon in denial basically

Ace Trappola

Silly straw who thinks he is a big spoon

No fr this guy will posture and insist that he is 100% big spoon material

But then as SOON as he falls asleep, he’s snoring and throwing his arms around and wiggling around, tossing and turning

Man will NOT keep still

The amount of times you’ve kicked him out of bed bc he keeps waking you up with his flailing

Rarely you’ll get a night where you comfortably sleep with him as the big spoon but don’t get used to it

Deuce Spade

Respectable big spoon

Probably one of the most comfortable people to sleep with

Will cuddle you well enough that you feel soothed but not tight enough that you can’t slip out if you want/need to

Always makes sure you’re comfortable, probably to the extent that you have to tell him to stop fretting

Good boy, 10/10

Cater Diamond

Undeniable little spoon

There is no doubt, just hold him pls

His favourite position is with his back to you bc he prefers it if you can’t see his face

Can’t have you seeing him vulnerable instead of his usual silly, goofy persona

Sometimes tho he’ll lay his head against your chest and you’ll have a little moment together

But don’t mention it otherwise he won’t do it again

Trey Clover

Big spoon

As if there was ever any doubt

He actually really likes spooning, he likes the intimacy

He likes the feel of your heartbeat and being able to stroke a hand through your hair or watch you as you sleep

Plus it is easy for him to slip into bed next to you if he’s stayed up late to finish baking

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar

Big spoon but only because he treats you like a living pillow

I mean let’s be real all this man does is sleep

So there is no way that you will be anything but the little spoon here

He’ll think its funny if you try to be the big spoon and then just push you underneath him and resume business as usual

Spooning with Leona is either incredibly comfortable or the most uncomfortable sleep you’ve ever had – there is no in-between

He pretends not to care if you voice any discomfort but genuinely will try to be more attentive in future

Jack Howl

Big spoon

But he goes to bed sooo early so you don’t always get to cuddle

Sometimes when you sneak into bed he’ll roll over and engulf you in his arms

As if he sensed you in his sleep

But other times Jack sleeps like a rock

So its kind of hit and miss

But when you do get to spoon, it feels like you are encompassed in a huge, never-ending hug

It may even be tempting enough for you to become a morning person, if you’re not already

Ruggie Bucchi

Little spoon 100%

My man just likes to cuddle up after a long day of making thaumarks and running around taking care of Leona

So there is nothing he loves more than snuggling into your chest or side and passing out

Plus being the little spoon makes it a tiny bit easier to slip out in the morning when he has to do one of his early morning jobs or get Leona's breakfast ready

Plus plus having you there makes his bed feel just that little bit more comforting :)

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

Little spoon who thinks he is a big spoon #2

You’ll fall asleep with him being the big spoon but you always ALWAYS wake up with him somehow in the little spoon position with his arms and legs wrapped around you

Will insist this is a misunderstanding and that he slipped bc he’s still not used to beds yet

He actually loves nothing more than burying his face into your chest and feeling nice and safe

Nevertheless he will go to the grave insisting that he is the big spoon

The biggest little spoon in denial, no one compares

Jade Leech

Big spoon

The only time he is a little spoon is when he gets too excited about mushrooms or something and needs to calm down while you stroke his hair

Otherwise he is a big spoon through and through

Thing is though, his grip is TOO strong

Once you make the decision to spoon with him, there is no escape

His arms will be wrapped so tightly around your waist that you can’t even more an inch away from him

He has absolutely no remorse about it either the next morning, he’ll just give you his little closed eye smile and be all ‘whoops’ but hold you just as tight the next time

Floyd Leech

Hear me out, hear me out

100% a little spoon

He gives off big spoon energy but actually prefers to wrap himself around you and have you hold him and play with his hair and give him back scratches

Be careful if he’s in a silly goofy mood though because he’ll start nipping at you

Thinks its hilarious when you’re relaxing and you suddenly yelp bc he’s nipped at your side

But usually he behaves himself bc sometimes he’s a little touch starved so he really likes it when you hold him

[wandaromanoffroses]

"Isn't she gorgeous?"

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Requested

Warnings: 18+ content, breast sucking, fingering (R receiving), orgasm denial, strap-on use (R receiving), cock-sucking, vaginal sex, degrading, praising, profanity

Summary: Your husband, Steve Rogers, has been romantically and sexually starving you ever since he became an Avenger. After borrowing money from notorious crime leader, Natasha Romanoff, she breaks into your house to get what she's owed. However, when she finds you, his gorgeous wife innocently asleep next to him, you catch her interest and her plans change instantly.

Pairings: top dom!Natasha Romanoff x bottom sub!reader, Steve Rogers x Reader (nothing romantic or sexual happens)

Trigger Warnings: blood, gun wound, reference to implied SA (blink and you'll miss it).

“Y/n?” you nearly sent the plate in your hand flying to the floor, dropping it into the washing bowl before spinning around to see your husband in the doorway. You shook your head, sure that your eyes were deceiving you. He was never here even when he promised, never mind three weeks early. 

“Steve,” you said, drying your hands and rushing over to him but before you could pull him into a hug, he caught a hold of your shoulders to stop you. His touch sent a stab of pain into your chest and you were snapped back to reality, falling away from the lingers of a past moment you had momentarily forgotten wasn’t your present. You straightened your figure and took a step back, looking up at the man that had once been the light of your life, a guide in the darkness, someone special to share all the good with but now, he could’ve been a stranger.

You had been married for three years, together for five and the first few years would be the most treasured moments of your life. But ever since he had become an Avenger, it had consumed his sole purpose. 

Steve was always out fighting, carving his mark, making the world proud of his heroism while you stayed at home doing chores and completing mindless activities to pass the time. There was once a time where you could’ve sworn you saw Universes in his eyes. Now, his skin had been drained of colour and his eyes were rimmed with red as if he were a ghost that was forever cursed to haunt his loved ones. “What are you doing here?” you quizzed.

“I’m sorry," he said, bowing his head, “I’ve got into a bit of trouble, I wanted to make sure you were safe.” You frowned. 

“What trouble?” you questioned, “is there a villain after you? Can’t the Avengers help you?” You didn’t even bother hiding the bitterness in my voice. They were clearly everything he ever needed, what use were you to him? He sighed.

“Not exactly,” he said, “we should probably sit down.” You followed him into the dining room with caution in your steps, not taking your eyes off him. The walls were a fading, off-white, elaborate flowers twisted between leaves and detailed patterns, wooden panelling running along across the bottom. The light fixture in the centre was brass with three upturned light bulbs, the dining tables and chairs a polished rosewood. Steve had wanted the room like this because it reminded him of his Grandmother. It was awkward to clean and there was always a build of dust in here. You took a seat opposite him.

“What’s going on?” you said. He scratched the back of his neck.

“I know what you’re going to think but… alright I’ll just tell you. I took out a loan from someone a bit dodgy and I haven’t quite paid them back.” You raised an eyebrow.

“What’s ‘haven’t quite’ supposed to mean?” you said, raising your voice. 

“I haven’t paid them back, okay?” he exclaimed, “look, all I wanted to do was buy you a new house, I wanted to make you happy since you hate this one so much. I don’t see anything wrong with wanting to spoil my girl.” Generosity – the easiest attainable remedy for guilt.

“Well, I see something wrong with borrowing money you can’t pay back, especially from somebody that can put you and other people in danger,” you said, pushing yourself onto your feet, “what were you thinking Steve?” He slammed his fists onto the table and you jumped, your heart thumping against your ribcage.

“Listen, I thought I would have the money by now. It’s not my fault I can’t see into the future, you know I wouldn’t have even thought about it if I knew.” You closed your eyes, exhaling a long breath, trying to keep your composure. There were a hundred things you wanted to say to him right now but it wasn’t worth it. You either lived in peace or chaos; either way, nothing changed. 

“I thought I knew a lot of things about you but they turned out to all be wrong,” you said, “so I don’t know anymore. Nothing you do surprises me.” You stormed back into the kitchen, not wanting him to waste anymore of your time. You had dishes to do and by now, the water would’ve gone cold. 

“Y/n, come on. You haven’t seen me in three months and this is how you’re going to treat me?”

“I have dishes to do,” you said, picking up the plate you had dropped before, polishing it until it shone in the dim light peeking through the curtains, “someone has to keep the house clean.” And clearly, it wasn’t going to him. You felt a firm hand on my shoulder and all the muscles in your body tensed.

“I know you’re mad at me.” You scoffed. Mad wasn’t the right word – it was an array of messy emotions tangled together that had been fraying for years. There was more than just anger here, that was just an old friend that had withered and grown back into something much more cruel now. “Just please… let me make it up to you. I could die on a mission one day you know, you never know when one of these moments could be our last.” He had tried guilt tripping you before – it was a simple yet effective way of shifting blame onto the other person to ease your conscience. These games were getting so predictable. 

“And I’d be the last one to know,” you said, “maybe if I was lucky, I’d see it on the news.” You placed the last plate on the drying rack, emptying the washing-up bowl before walking away to leave him standing in the kitchen, alone. 

..........................................................................

You had avoided Steve as if he were the plague for the rest of the evening, only tolerating him in the same room as you when you went to give him his dinner. If you were nothing but his little housewife, you may as well play the part and poke it in his face. While you were getting ready for bed, you had paused by his chest of drawers, remembering the divorce papers you had hidden beneath the shirts he had outgrown or didn’t like anymore. Most of them had been bought by you and you could recall a memory with your husband in every single one. Maybe another day.

You couldn’t sleep but you kept your eyes tight shut when you heard him enter and move around the bedroom. Why didn’t you just sleep in the living room?, you thought as he slipped under the covers beside you. You figured he’d probably leave before you were awake so in his mind, you wouldn't even know. Dickhead. You didn’t know how much time had passed but you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you see is blinding white.

“Steve, turn the lights off…” You let out a scream when a gunshot sounded through the room, colliding with your husband’s cry of pain. Your eyes flew open and immediately fell on the figure standing at the end of your bed, her ravishing, blood-soaked hair curled onto her shoulder, her eyes glittering with shattered pieces of jade. Your heart seemed to freeze in your chest. Natasha Romanoff – the most notorious leader of crime in the world. And she was here, in your bedroom. 

You turned to Steve and let out a strangled sob, the sight of scarlet soaking into the bed sheets making you dizzy. You heard the click of heels behind you and Natasha took a fistful of your nightgown before you could even process what was happening, pulling you away from him as if you were a mere feather. You screamed again and if it wasn’t for her strong grip on you, you would’ve collapsed to the ground.

She waited until you were steady enough to stand on your own two feet, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against her body. She was wearing a dress that emphasised all her curves and showcased most of her skin, your body flooding with dread. This woman was able to shoot Captain America without any protective clothing like it was nothing. There was no way out of this situation. We were doomed. I felt something hard in her crotch area, confused as to why she was carrying such a bulky item in her pockets.

“Leave her alone,” Steve whispered, his voice faint and overshadowed by anguish. 

“Get on the floor and don’t say another word unless I ask you a question or she’ll have to watch you die,” she snapped, “neither of us want that to happen, do we?” With resentment, he hobbled away from the bed, stumbling over to the wall and sliding himself down it, his hand clutched to the gun wound in his stomach. “Good.” She ran a finger down your cheek before beginning to trace your features, her head tilted to the side. “You didn’t tell anyone you had a wife, Rogers. Isn’t she gorgeous?” You shivered in her hold, her voice low and seductive. “What’s your name, pretty?”

“Y-Y/n,” you trembled, wishing you could strangle the butterflies in your stomach that her touch had provoked. This was insanity – she had just shot your husband and she was threatening to murder him yet she was making you nervous, in a romantic way. God, if only Natasha wasn’t so beautiful, this would be a whole lot easier. 

“Y/n Rogers?” she said, giving you a fake pout, “that doesn’t sound very nice, does it? Y/n Romanoff has a much nicer ring to it.” A crease formed between your eyebrows. What the hell was she implying? “Rogers, I’m willing to strike up a deal with you. But first, I’m going to fuck your wife until the only name she’ll remember is mine.” His eyes widened in horror and you let out a cry. 

“Natasha, that’s assault. You can’t,” Steve said. She smirked.

“Oh there won’t be any need for that,” she said, “it won’t take much for her to beg me for more.” She pushed you down onto the bed and straddled your lap, a pool of wetness already forming between your legs. This was so fucked up. “Give me consent and I’ll make you feel so good baby, better than you’ve ever felt. All you have to do is say the word.” 

You considered all your options but it didn’t take you long to decide since you only had two. You either let Natasha fuck you or you watched Steve die. You could treat it like a one night stand, you thought. You had never experienced one yourself but you’d read it in books so surely you would be able to do it.

Though you knew deep down, part of you wanted this. You were desperately touch starved and the thought of Natasha fucking you made you groan, heat rushing to your cheeks as the sound escape your mouth. You nodded and she gripped your jaw.

“Words bitch.”

“Yes,” you said, looking away from her in shame but she forced you to look back at her.

“Good girl,” Natasha said, lowering herself onto you and colliding her lips with yours, setting all your nerves alight. Her lips felt like velvet against your own, melting against you and setting a slow pace, letting you get used to the sensation. You couldn’t remember the last time Steve had kissed you, never mind like this. 

When your hand moved to her chest, she knew she’d won and she began kissing you with more passion, her teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You gasped and she took the opportunity to slip her tongue between the gap in your teeth. You didn’t even bother fighting against her, wanting Natasha to take full control and use you however she pleased. 

She separated your lips and began kissing your neck, her teeth ruthless against your skin as she began to mark you, leaving a trail of garnet blotches that would be seen by everyone. “Tell him how much you like this.” As much as you wished it wasn’t true, you were very much enjoying this. It was a terrible thing to admit to your husband but you had to remind yourself that his life was at stake here.

“I love it, I love being marked by you,” you said, “please don’t stop.” She pulled away when she reached your chest, reaching down and taking hold of your nightgown. 

“Can I take this off angel?”

“Please,” you said, ignoring that Steve was in the same room as you. You wanted this, you needed this, you hadn’t had sex in so long. Too long. She lifted herself off your waist for a few moments so she could discard you of your nightgown before continuing her path down your chest, stopping right before she reached your breasts. 

“So beautiful,” Natasha said before taking one of your nipples between her fingers and rolling it, earning her your loudest groan yet. She began to fondle the other roughly and the pain was soon replaced with pleasure that went straight in between your legs. You were a moaning mess beneath her, your forehead glistening with sweat and your breaths loud and sharp. “Listen to that, Rogers. Does she make these sweet, sweet noises for you? Do you Y/n? Tell me.”

“No,” I said, “only for you.” She tutted.

“Oh sweetheart, he doesn’t deserve you,” she said, “it’s okay, I’m going to take care of you now.” She ran her hands down your stomach and attached her mouth to your hardened nipple, your mind unable to decide what to concentrate on. She slipped her fingers beneath your panties and began snapping it against your skin, causing you to start bucking your hips into her. 

“I need you,” you said. You expected her to make you wait but her expression softened as she began sliding your panties down your legs, throwing them in Steve’s direction. “Look how she ruined them for me. If you weren’t so neglectful, this could’ve been you, Rogers. Don’t you ever forget that.” You gasped as the palm of her hand pressed against your cunt, brushing against your swollen clint. “So wet.”

“Natasha, please…”

“Beg,” she said, running her fingers through your folds and collecting your arousal, “let him hear you.”

“Please Natasha,” you said, “I need you to fuck me so bad. I need you inside of me, please make me cum.” Your words made her groan and you whimpered as you felt her push two fingers inside of you, giving you only a few seconds to adjust before she began thrusting in and out of you at a quickened pace. You felt a burning sting, grabbing her wrist to try and slow her down. “Nat, it’s too much, it hurts.” 

“What do you mean sweetie? Does he have a small cock?” There was a cruel glint in her eye when the realisation dawned on her. “He hasn’t fucked you in a longtime has he? How long has it been?” You were struggling to form coherent sentences at this point.

“Six months,” you admitted. He visited so little and he was always exhausted when he did, hardly even giving you any affection, never mind fulfilling your physical needs. You had shamefully been trying to fuck yourself for over a year now but you were either too embarrassed to keep at it for long or you were eventually forced to give up, too inexperienced to make yourself cum. You had never used more than one finger so you weren’t used to the stretch at all.

“You’re telling me your husband had access to this cunt anytime he wanted but he chose not to fuck you for half a year?” What a waste of such a perfect pussy,” she said, “shh, it’s okay, it’ll feel so good in a minute.” As if to prove her point, porn-worthy moans began to spill from your mouth as you were drowned in overwhelming bliss. She knew she had found that one spot inside of you when your noises became more intense and more wetness gushed from your entrance, the squelches of your arousal echoing around the room. You took fistfuls of the duvet beneath you in your hands, your walls began to clench around her fingers. But just before you reached your high, Natasha slipped her fingers out of you.

“No,” you cried, “I was so close.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Not just yet,” she said, “I want you to cum on my cock.” You blinked up at her in confusion, not understanding what she meant. Was she perhaps intersex? “Get on your knees.” You scrambled to obey her command, your thighs glistening with white and she smirked. “Such an obedient thing. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” You did so without hesitation and she lifted up her dress and threw it on the floor, leaving her in a lacey bra and boxers. Your eyes fell onto her breasts that were full and sat perfectly, wondering how they’d feel in your hands and in your mouth. You were too distracted to pay attention to Natasha pulling down her boxers until a large, red strapon sprung into your face.

You were sheltered and didn’t have many friends so your knowledge on how two women had sex was low. You had accidentally come across some brief information about strapons while scrolling through social media, closing the app immediately and uninstalling it. You had never told anyone you liked women so any mentions of the topic made you panic and run in the opposite direction. Natasha noticed your hesitation.

“It’s just like sucking a cock,” she said, “you’ve done that, right?” You shook your head. Steve  was a very traditional man so you’d never done anything outside of the very basics. You had always wanted to explore more interesting options but you were too ashamed to ask or discuss any of your preferences with him. “God, so vanilla. Once I show you what you’ve been missing you’ll never want to go back. Do you want to try симпатичный (pretty)?” Her Russian Nickname for you sent a lustful thrum through your body despite the words being foreign and unknown to you. You knew there was only one correct answer to her question but you liked being able to show Natasha how much you desired to follow her orders.

“I’d love to try,” you said, “anything to please you.”

“Good girl,” she husked, nudging your mouth with the strap-on. Her other hand dug into your shoulder as she pushed it inside of your gaping mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

Natasha kept going even when you started choking, tears slipping from your eyes and smearing your makeup. The sight of you, a perfect housewife she had ruined and made a mess of, only made her thrust the toy into your mouth faster, desperately turned on. When she was satisfied that you’d wet it enough, she pulled out, showing enough mercy to let you catch your breath. “You’re already such a good cock-sucker.” She ran her thumb over your plump lips. “Aren’t you glad I put these lips to good use, hmm?”

“Yes,” you gasped, “thank you Natasha.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“So polite. Get on all fours and look at your husband.” You hesitated a little this time, suddenly remembering Steve’s presence. You turned around and followed her commands, your gaze meeting with his. Steve’s pupils were drowned in pain and clouded his emotions so you couldn’t identify them, blood still gushing from his gun wound. 

“Natasha, I think he’s going to die,” I said, “his stomach…” She looked over and saw that he was on the verge of passing out, his blood loss now critical. 

“I fear you’re right,” she said, “I thought we’d have more time with him, shame. Don’t worry милый (darling), he’ll be alright soon.” You heard footsteps thundering up the stairs before the door was flung open and several men dressed head to toe in black burst into the bedroom. You wondered how she had summoned them so quickly but you were too horny to dwell on the thought for long. 

You tried to cover your exposed body, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden but Natasha slapped your hands away. “They won’t look my angel, they wouldn’t even dare. Don’t let them distract you.” You felt something prodding your entrance and you whimpered.

“Please,” you breathed as she circled your entrance with the toy, collecting your arousal. 

“You’re somehow even wetter,” she cooed, “did you really love your face being fucked that much?” Before you could answer she began to push the tip inside, your soaked walls showing no resistance. She didn’t give you anytime to get used to the stretch, pulling out before slamming back into you seconds later. The pain only lasted a few moments before it dissolved into pure pleasure as Natasha pounded into you like a wild animal. You arched your bark, the dirtiest sounds you had ever produced spilling from your mouth and echoing through the room. You somehow managed to lift an arm and point it towards Steve’s shirt drawer.  

“There’s divorce paper,” you strung together between gasps, “in that drawer. I already signed them.” The men followed your finger and moved towards them, aimlessly throwing Steve’s shirts onto the floor. You saw a pang of hurt in Steve’s expression but you didn’t care. He should’ve seen this coming and even if he didn’t, it was his fault anyway.

As the divorce papers and Steve were dragged away, you moved your hips in rhythm with Natasha’s to try and get the strap-on deeper into you, every brush against your walls sending electricity through your body. She gripped your hips, encouraging your movements, grunting each time you slammed back against her. Your groans changed when she found your g-spot again and after that, she made sure to keep hitting it, a knot beginning to tighten in your stomach for the second time that night.

“I need to cum,” you said, “can I this time, please?”

“Such a slut,” she said, “soak my dick baby. Go on.” You screamed her name as you released all over her cock, stars blinding your eyes as your body shook with bliss, each new wave stronger than the last. After the longest orgasm of your life, you finally finished cumming, liquid staining your thighs. But Natasha didn’t stop, moving her hands up to your ass and massaging your cheeks. 

“Natasha, I’ve already cummed,” you said, expecting her to finally pull out but instead, she tutted.

“We’re not finished yet,” she said, “If I wanted to, I could have you cumming all over this cock all night. We’re done when I say we are. You are all mine after all, gorgeous.” After the initial discomfort faded away, you were soaring back up to cloud nine, ready to do whatever Natasha wanted.

“Of course,” you said, “I’m all yours now.”

[steviewashere]

Steve and Eddie being teenage boys (even in their twenties, even though they technically are no longer teenagers), a list that I've been making in my head (some of them are stupid and some of them are sweet, but this is a long list, be warned):

Steve teaching Eddie how to burp the alphabet after drinking soda. He's phenomenal at it. Like...almost disgustingly so. It ends up turning into a one up competition pretty fast after that.

Eddie who knows how to drag race and takes Steve on ridiculously fast drives down empty streets at night (when Steve's had a terrible night). He steps on the gas and goes: "Weeee!!!" as they speed. (Please don't speed. It is dangerous. But for the sake of entertaining their pea brains, this is what they do.)

Eddie and Steve who have been participating in a several month long tagging game. They slap each other on the back of shoulders as hard as they possibly can before skittering off like a little goblin.

Steve and Eddie think it's soooo fucking funny to blow up condoms like balloons when they're stoned.

Steve and Eddie who get stoned and they go shop for munchies at the local grocery store, both hysterically giggling at figuring out how to be "normal" people in public. (They are failing miserably.)

Steve who makes Eddie play basketball with him sometimes. And then he purposefully tosses the ball at Eddie rather than the basket. It devolves into wresting in the grass, heads in elbows, knuckles across scalps, kicking each other in the shins.

One time, Steve falls asleep at Eddie's on the couch. And instead of being all sweet and doting, Eddie finds a marker and draws a penis on Steve's face. He gets water poured on his head the next time he falls asleep at Steve's as payback.

Steve and Eddie comforting each other through nightmares and hardships and healing injuries, both in sort of constipated, mumbled ways. Pats to the back and leaning in close to each other, resting heads on shoulders. Passing cigarettes or beers back and forth just to pass the time, not really talking. Exchanging words afterwards like, "You're a great friend," and "You're the best person I know." Because they both need that and recognize that, even outside of the petty, childish things they do to each other.

Eddie, who understands that the pool at Steve's is a sore spot, instead of prodding them to get in, he plans out a whole water balloon fight to stave off the summer heat.

Steve, who knows that music has been a source of calm for Eddie over the years, makes sure there's always a cassette that Eddie can play in case it gets too quiet.

Eddie and Steve who shit talk each other in the arcade, beating each other's high scores if only to rile the other one up.

Steve who always checks Eddie's ID before he goes into the adult only room in Family Video. Despite knowing that Eddie is definitely over the age of eighteen. Sometimes he denies Eddie entry in front of Keith just to make him pout. (He thinks it's cute.)

Eddie and Steve watching porn together, criticizing the moans the entire time because they know for sure it's fake. And on the same note of moans, Eddie who gets a call from Wayne and Steve fake moans in the background the entire time. Steve gets a call from his parents and Eddie shouts really loud in the background for Steve to pass the joint back. They just glare at each other before getting in another tag fight throughout wherever they're at.

Eddie who goes into Family Video after Steve strikes out again. Who just walks up to the counter and starts acting like one of those girls, twirling his hair and pouting his lips and blinking his eyes, making his voice high pitched. (It gets Steve to giggle instead of pout, so Eddie calls it a win.)

Eddie guzzling an entire can of Coke and then spraying it out of his nose when Steve makes him laugh too hard. Steve's never made anybody laugh that hard.

Steve and Eddie who claim it's not gay to make their boners kiss. I mean...what? Who said that?

Steve and Eddie who play-punch a little too hard when playing punch buggy on vacation.

Speaking of vacation, Steve and Eddie going to a beach over the summer. They chase each other up and down the sand. They roll off of the sand hills. Eddie buries Steve in the sand and applies sunscreen to his face as he just accepts his fate. Steve helps Eddie make a sandcastle, a secret talent of his being how structurally sound he can build one.

Steve and Eddie playing with Legos while talking shit about Family Video customers. They toss Sour Patch Kids into each other's mouths as they talk. Sometimes hitting each other in the face purposefully.

Steve and Eddie who get drunk one night and go catch a wild possum. Robin screams at them to put it back because, "No, you dinguses, that is not a cat!"

Eddie and Steve taking care of each other on bad pain days. Trying to entertain the other with stupid jokes or shitty movies or gossip.

Eddie sharing his uncle with Steve when he finds out that Mr. and Mrs. Harrington are terrible motherfuckers. Who makes sure Steve is comfortable in his home around Wayne.

Steve conspiring with Wayne to make sure that Eddie always has the best birthday parties. Because the one thing he really held onto from his King Steve years was how to throw a small get together, and how, especially, to make it extremely awesome and memorable.

Steve who gets Eddie new albums he's been eyeing for his birthday. Ones Eddie knows he'd never be able to afford on his own, always a little sullen when he looks at the price. Steve who still has access to his dad's credit card and will max it out just for Eddie to get his fill.

Eddie makes homemade things for Steve's birthday. Cards and trinkets and drawings—things Steve's old high school buddies never considered as gifts, even though they have the most impact on Steve, even though they matter the most.

Steve and Eddie who love each other, insurmountably. Despite sometimes being major buttheads to each other.

[reiden]

we bring our fantasy to life | s.hinata

Hinata has a habit of spoiling you, not only when it comes to material possessions, but with anything you wish for. And you should really thank him for it. It's only right, you think.

cw: 18+, f!reader, oral (male receiving) 

— ✦

The wind chime that hangs out on your balcony twinkles in a sweet tune, the sound drifting into your apartment along with the rays of the early morning sun. Hinata brought it back for you from Brazil; it's made of bells hidden inside of seashells, carved pieces of glass, and twine. It's charming in its own right, but it means more because he bought it for you. (It was the first thing he got with his first ever paycheck as a delivery boy, and he had messaged you about it too.)

You think he's always been too willing with you. Hinata always indulges you, perhaps more than he should. You try to gently chide him into not spoiling you so much, try telling him that he doesn't need to get you a gift whenever the urge strikes him; Hinata never really listens, just takes your lighthearted scolding with red ears and a sheepish smile. 

You can't really complain anyway — you quite like knowing he's thinking of you. 

As you lay beneath your comforter, head sinking into your pillows, you reach out a hand and trace a line down Hinata's bicep, following the curve of his muscle. The years he spent in Brazil turned him into someone new; he had come back to you stronger, bigger. He had come back with his instincts sharper and his smile wider, and his love for you nearly tripled, it seems. Something squeezes and shudders in your chest as you watch the subtle ways his face shifts in his sleep. His lashes brush the apples of his cheeks and his lips are parted slightly, shoulders rising and falling with each breath. He's every bit as endearing asleep as he is awake — and you can hardly believe he's yours.

It's a strange position to be in: to date someone with so much fame. The world is watching his every move and, by extension, they are watching yours too. Hinata never shies away from speaking about you; he posts you on social media, takes you out on dates. And people talk — of course they do. Everyone has opinions on everything and your relationship with Hinata is no exception to that. Some of them think you're too plain for a pro-athlete, especially one as prolific as Hinata Shouyou. Sometimes, you start to believe them. 

Hinata is every bit willing to give you the world, should you ask for it. And while you're willing to do the same for him, he would be able and you could only ever make a good-faith attempt. You can tell him time and time again how enamoured you are by him, how grateful you are to have him; Shouyou, thank you. Shouyou, what would I do without you? Shouyou, I love you. 

It doesn't really measure up — not in your eyes, anyway. (Hinata insists otherwise but you're allowed to disagree with him sometimes.)

Shouyou," you whisper, shuffling closer. He's so warm — you can feel the steady thrum of his heart beating as you slot your head in the crook of his neck. "Are you awake?" 

And then: "I love you." 

You bring your arm up and curl it under your head, the other skims up his shoulder and curves over his neck. You can feel his body moving with each cyclical breath; you wait for him to wake up. Some part of you wants to shake him awake, but you imagine he has several good things to dream about, and you'd hate to interrupt. 

The longer you stare, the harder it becomes for you to be patient. 

Hinata had returned a little over a month ago. You'd been expecting him for the whole week before he came back home, cleaning and reorganising your apartment, repeatedly checking your reflection in every mirror you pass by. You suspect that he'd wanted to surprise you, but — as with most things concerning you and him — he'd agreed to your whims and filled you in on all the details. You had waited for him at the airport when he'd arrived, and you had cried in his arms (which, you had immediately noted, had gotten much bigger in the time you'd spent apart) while he tried to soothe the ache of a wound that could finally begin to heal.

He'd called you every single night and yet, when he had you in his arms once more, Hinata had so much more to say. And you'd listened — hanging off of every word like missing even a second of him would break you. 

You remember how he was bouncing his leg in the taxi back to your place; you had assumed it was just his excitement to be back home. That could have only been half of it — he'd been more excited to get his hands on you. 

And as soon as the both of you stumbled past the front door, as soon as you had turned to welcome him home with a coy smile, Hinata was kissing you. He spent the next few hours simply learning your body once more: he'd mapped his love onto your skin long ago and now, he was retracing his steps, finding all the ways to make you squirm, whine, plead and beg. Embarrassingly, you were nothing more than a dazed mess at the end of it. 

"You're always so sensitive, baby." 

The memory of him rasping those words into the shell of your ear has you growing even more impatient. Involuntarily, your thighs press together; the ghost of his touch along your skin is fleeting — if you close your eyes, you can still feel it.

He must feel your insistent stare. Hinata stirs awake slowly, stretching his arms out first before his eyes even peel open. You watch with your smile hidden behind your hand as he fights sleep, finally meeting your softened gaze. 

"Good morning," you say first, lovelorn as you watch him smile. 

Hinata typically wakes up earlier than you. His schedule is a lot stricter than yours, and his discipline is stronger than yours as well. His body is used to waking up in tandem with the sunrise — you prefer to wait until the rays of sun greet you. But he's been given some time off, a short break to recuperate, and for once, Hinata had slept in with you. "Morning," he says, quietly though not cheerfully. His voice is gritty from the hours of sleep and the sound only lights a flame in your stomach. 

You make your move then, not wanting to delay it any longer. Hinata's watching you curiously as you shift over him, and make room for yourself between his legs. The soft wrinkle between his brows, the way he's watching you so intently, only makes that flame grow as it begins to burn brighter. 

He doesn't seem to put two-and-two together until your hands are sliding down his stomach, feeling the ridges of his well-trained muscles. 

"Hey..." he laughs, the sound coming out breathy and soft, touched with a kind of disbelief he shouldn't still have. It's almost as if Hinata can't believe he has you in the same way you can't believe you have him. "You don't have to—"

"I want to," you reply, fingers curling into the waistband of his shorts. You tug at it, lowering it down his hips and his thighs. The way Hinata hisses at the cool air has a shiver rushing down the length of your spine. "I didn't think you'd be hard already," you accompany your words with a soft snicker. 

Hinata whines in response, his hips chasing your fingers as they withdraw from him. "How could I not be? You're so hot—" his voice catches in his throat when you press your hand down on his thigh, thumb tracing his tan line. "Baby, please." You can imagine him now, standing on the sandy beaches of Rio De Janeiro, each grain easily felt beneath his bare feet. He must have been a sight to behold: sun-kissed skin, sweat perspiring on his forehead and over his back, mouth stretched into a self-assured grin. 

You’re jealous, really — you should’ve been there too. It’s easy to picture him there, basking in the sunlight; the fact that others had gotten to see him like that stoked the fire burning in the cavity of your stomach. 

“Can’t believe you woke me up just to tease,” Hinata pouts, sleep lacing his voice and making it sound almost stuck in his throat. He shifts his weight around, squirming as you skim your nails up his thighs.

You don't dignify him with a response. Hinata sucks in a sharp breath, "Where'd this come from anyway, huh?" 

"Just felt like it," you hum, kneeling between his thighs. You place your hands on his hips, squeeze once, and then smooth your palms up his sides. 

Hinata's skin is hot under your wandering touch. He's been good and kept his hands at his sides — an accomplishment for him considering how much he enjoys taking any and every opportunity to touch you. He stares down at you with a darkened gaze, his need for you written clearly in the deep brown of his irises. It's a look you've seen before, and one you will never tire of; it tugs at something deep inside of you, in the same way a puppeteer manipulates and pulls at the strings of his creations. You fall right in and you always give in. 

Your hand curls around the base of his shaft — finally, finally — and Hinata hisses once more. He's jumpy already, hips bucking into your hand as you massage the skin. The sound of your name falling from his lips only encourages you to increase your pace; his legs jolt beneath your free hand. 

Hinata's an eager lover. He's always yearning, hoping for more. When you're with him you truly feel desired, even at your worst of times. Your scent, your touch, your voice — this is all he knows. A low groan rumbles deep inside of his chest when you bend down, your soft lips wrapping around the head of his cock. You don't think he's really thinking when he jerks his hips up, forcing himself deeper into your mouth. 

You're breathing through your nose, fighting the urge to gag when you feel him hit the back of your throat. And you keep him there, nose pressed flush against his pubic bone where you can smell his minty body wash. 

"Move— please—" Hinata grunts. His fingers twist into the sheets at the same time you moan around his cock, and his hips lurch forward. "C'mon, baby." There's an edge to his voice, a warning simmering beneath the begging. Hinata knows how to hold himself back but his restraint is only so strong, and once the threads begin to fray, it's only a matter of seconds before he snaps. 

But that isn't exactly an unfavourable outcome. 

You hum around him once more. Hinata shivers. He mutters a curse under his breath, your nails dig into his thighs, and then his fingers are tangling themselves in your hair. His palm is insistent when it pushes down on the crown of your head, but he waits to move. Instead, he looks down at you with a silent question: Is this okay?

Your answer comes in the form of your tongue laving around him, running up and along the underside of his cock. It's all the answer he needs, really, and you go lax in his grip as he tugs you forward. Hinata pulls at your hair, manoeuvres you exactly where he wants you. His other hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking along your cheekbone, like he's apologising for pulling your hair and causing you pain. 

(Not that he needs to — the feeling of hurt blooming under your scalp had sent heat searing down your body, and right between your legs. Hinata's looking down at you like he knows it; he's wearing a wicked grin.)

He guides you, bobbing your head up and down in tandem with each purposeful thrust of his hips. Your eyes flutter, going half-mast, and all you can really do is stare up at him through your lashes; your eyes glisten with tears that have yet to fall. Hinata's movements are stunned and he wrinkles the bedding beneath you both as he moves. You try your best to rub your tongue over him in a way he can appreciate, suck sloppily around the base of his shaft before he's pulling you off again. Every noise is lewd, obscene, and when he pushes in too deep, you're not able to stifle the way you gag and your throat tightens around him. 

Hinata's quick to pull back, "Fuck, I'm sorry." But he doesn't sound quite as guilty as his big, brown eyes make him out to be — and the noise is not nearly as offending as it would have been in any other context. 

You let him use you; it's the least you can do, you think, for the way he treats you like you are the moon and stars. And it's not all one-sided, if the way your arousal pools between your thighs says anything. He's trembling and your heart is racing. "Shit— I'm gonna come," Hinata pants quietly.

You want him to, you really, really do. So you hollow out your cheeks and you suck harder, the tip of your tongue tracing a vein that circles around his cock. You can feel him pulsing in your mouth, tongue catching along the dip of his tip. Hinata lets out a shuddering breath that wanes into a weak moan, his cheeks flushed. You swallow around him and plant your hands firmly on his thighs. 

He comes with a strangled whine, bending his neck back and into the pillows. The taste of him floods your senses but you ignore the twang as you swallow, like it's second-nature. Hinata's hand falls from your hair, and he's looking down at you with a lovesick smile; you don't let up — not yet.

At least, you had planned not to but the hand cupping your cheek moves down to your jaw, gripping it tightly as he pulls you off of him. His cock is shiny with your spit, a thin strand of saliva following your mouth as you break away from him. 

"You're perfect, you know that?" he asks, grabbing you and pulling you into his lap with ease. "So pretty — my pretty girl." Hinata pulls you into a searing kiss, lips meshing with yours as he licks into your mouth. You moan softly, anticipation filling your chest; it feels electric as it sparks down your arms and down your legs, static in your fingertips. 

Hinata runs a hand down the curve of your spine, trailing his finger along the hem of your panties. He's not taking them off like you want him to, and you can't pull away to tell him to either. He keeps you in place with his free hand around your nape. 

You weren't supposed to get this far. The morning was meant to start and end with Hinata — it was about your appreciation for him. And yet, he's indulging you once again as you squirrel around in his lap. His laugh warms in your chest and your heart swells. You feel Hinata hook his fingers into your underwear, pulling them clean off in a matter of a few seconds. 

He throws you around with ease. Your back hits the mattress, your head sinking into the pillows he had been laying on moments ago. Hinata hovers over you, his eyes glancing all over your body and your face, as if he's seeing you for the first time. His gaze is sinister and the way his mouth twitches into a smirk has goosebumps erupting all over your skin. 

"I think I need to return the favour," he sighs, trailing fervent kisses down your neck just to get to the sensitive spot below your ear. You can feel Hinata smile against your skin when you mewl in response to his gentle bite. 

Your hands meet his bare chest, as though you're about to push him away. Maybe you should, he's giving in to you like he always does. But you don't and instead, you loop your arms around his neck, letting them slide off of him as your hands dig into his hair. Hinata moves down your body. "Shouyou — I was trying to thank you," you whisper, watching him press a kiss to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You shudder, much to Hinata's visible delight. 

"You can thank me like this too," he simply replies, teeth sinking into the fat of your thigh. You suck in a sharp breath, thoughts scattering quick like skittish animals. 

You hadn't thought about it until now — staring down at Hinata as his breath ghosts over your cunt. There's a faraway look in his eyes, his nails dig into your thighs, and you don't think you've ever seen him look so content. 

Maybe, when he indulges you, he's indulging himself too. 

[kisskuni]

sleeping with him

↳ how it would be to sleep with him. [all brothers x gn!reader]

tags: fluff, like one swear in beel’s

notes: anonymous requested sleeping with the brothers headcanons! i hope you enjoy :) i got carried away with lucifer’s i’m not sorry

lucifer ━━━

i feel like he’s the most normal sleeper of the brothers. doesn’t toss and turn or anything, but he does sleep on his back in mummy position………..

anyway, i also feel like he’s really warm to snuggle up to — in part he because only sleeps in sweats pants.

convincing him to let you sleep with him is probably the hardest part. not because he doesn’t want to, but because he doesn’t want himself to be that vulnerable in the presence of someone

therefore, he’ll likely only sleep in the same bed with you if you’re in an established relationship or something close to it.

the actually sleeping with him part is peaceful

his bed sheets are silky and undeniably comfortable. his favorite cuddle position is for you to fall asleep laying on his chest, he’ll ignore his arm falling asleep and deny it happens every single night.

additionally, he sleeps very little. you’d think the nights of going to bed so late and waking up so early would send him into sleep debt, but no he just doesn’t need as much sleep apparently.

so, be prepared for his alarm at 6 in the morning. he won’t wake you up past the alarm, but it will go off.

if you do wake up to it, he’ll feel bad and attempt to tuck you back to bed, sweet little forehead head kisses and all included.

(if you don’t wake up to it he gives you the forehead kiss anyway)

mammon ━━━

10/10 a cuddler. it does not matter the circumstances; it can be the middle of a hot summer day and he is still going to be cuddled up to you

ok well he’s gonna try to anyway. he falls asleep cuddled up to you but by morning he is somehow spread eagle and lost a sock?

he kicked you off the bed once

i feel like he also has a mini fridge by his bed LMAO he uses it to store water in bc he wakes up thirsty in the middle of the night all the time..

he wakes up late, always. if you have an alarm set you have to drag him out of bed, or else he WILL be sleeping in.

there’s also a 50/50 chance that he’ll not let you get out of bed in the morning anyway.

leviathan ━━━

you’d def have to tell him multiple times that you want to sleep in his bed, established relationship or not. he just won’t believe you the first few times.

after u convince him… sleeping is strange.

he sleeps in a bathtub and it’s not much comfier than it looks. it is for him because he’s used to it, but not really for you.

he tries his best though! he puts down cushions and covers the sides in blankets.

i think therefore cuddling is kind of a given though. the bathtub is bigger than a normal sized one but it’s not big enough for two people to sleep comfortably, especially not without touching each other.

that means cuddling mostly looks like one of you sleeping half on top of the other :)

he sleeps late usually, but he’s not as bad about waking up early as you might think.

although if you asked him to come to bed early he would jump at the idea, he’s wasting absolutely no time

satan ━━━

satan ends up passing out on the couch in his room most nights, but he does sleep in bed occasionally lol

but! whenever you mention wanting to stay the night and sleep in his bed, he’s suddenly sleeping in his own bed every night. he always has, what do you mean you remember him sleeping on the armchair before?

he sleeps on his stomach or his side mostly. he doesn’t cuddle all that much but he does like touching you in some way, be it his hands resting against you or your leg thrown across his

that said, he’s not against cuddling if you want to

he sleeps very little as well, sleeping late and rising early. he’s careful not wake you up when he rises, though there is a 50/50 chance that he just lays back down and sleeps some more if you aren’t awake when he is.

he doesn’t toss or turn in his sleep much, but he does whenever he’s stressed or you’ve had an argument

also a light sleeper. please don’t kick him in your sleep; he will wake up and never tell you you’re half the reason he can’t sleep

asmodeus ━━━

he’s so excited!! makes you do his nighttime routine with him and everything.

his taste in bed sheets is luxury, of course. the sheets and pillowcases are silky, his blankets light but incredibly fluffy.

he definitely sleeps nakey if he’s alone but for your sake he wears shorts to sleep (they’re silky and match his bedsheets?? somehow???)

he has a pretty normal sleep schedule, sleeping and waking up at pretty reasonable times

that said, he’s not immune to when you roll over all sleepy-eyed and ask for five more minutes. he will thoroughly enjoy an extra hour or two of sleep.

he wakes up pretty and it’s almost sickening at times. where is his bed head. where.

side sleeper but will sleep in whatever position you want him to if you want to cuddle with him, he just likes being close to and being able to touch you :)

beelzebub ━━━

he sleeps like a brick.

he also sleeps on his back and would absolutely love for you to sleep on his stomach

don’t hit him with the “im gonna crush you” bullshit either i’m fairly sure he could get hit by a small car and walk it off

anyway! he also has a fairly normal sleep schedule, but if he doesn’t have any where to be, there’s a good chance he’ll turn the alarm off and fall back asleep

he’s weirdly clingy in his sleep as well? he could be passed out and still wrap his arms around you when you try to get up

sleeps in pajama pants but usually no shirt. if you want him to, he’ll gladly put on a t-shirt or tank top though i want to eat his biceps

he’s good about not tossing and turning in his sleep but it’s not an impossibility. u have been crushed by him on multiple occasions i am so sorry.

belphegor ━━━

ok i know ur thinking “ok he’s the sleep demon of course he’s the best to sleep with-“

WRONG. ur wrong. he snores like a fright train and sleeps like a zombie

he talks in his sleep SO bad. you have had multiple conversations with him that he just fully does not remember in the morning

that said, he’s so comfy to sleep on and he’s super down to cuddle in whatever way that you prefer to

because he sleeps at odd times, his circadian rhythm is messed up. however, since you’ve asked to start sleeping with him, he’s made an attempt to fix it to some degree to make sure you’re sleeping at the same times.

he’ll ask you to stay with him when he naps as well but he doesn’t always expect you to sleep

he sleeps in pajamas but if he’s hot he’ll lose his shirt sometimes

he also has some sort of control over dreams. it’s not every night, but he does make an effort to visit your dreams and keep your nightmares at bay on a regular basis :)

[kakujis]

☆ 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒...

“...AND SHE'S FALLING ASLEEP, AS SHE'S WALKING WITH STRANGERS.”

synopsis: satoru’s had his eye on you for a while, who other than his best friend, suguru, to help him get you home?

warnings: dark content/ageless + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, modern au, naive/shy! reader, non curse! au. yandere!satoru. drugging, dubcon, voyeurism(sort of), non-consensual picture taking/recording, dacryphilia, fingering, p*ssy slapping, creamp*e, restraints, possessive behavior, blackmail, degradation, praise, pet names (baby, princess, angel, good girl), drooling, your friends are really shitty, suguru calls u a slut like one time. suguru is mean, satoru is less mean kind of, he's probs ooc at times. that should be it, if i forgot anything pls lmk.

ft + wc: mainly gojo x reader, lil bit of suguru x reader. around 5.8k.

network: @enchantedforest-network

a/n: well. this was a doozy lol. i started it back in mid september and it's taken me around a month to get here which is actually pretty fast for me! this was supposed to be part of my first mini kinktober but u can see with the pace i'm writing at... well LOL. anyways, big thank you to wallaby for actually getting me out of the rut to write this, koca the loml for helping me w satoru's dialogue (dirty talk)!! @sxgars for the banner, and nie, the other loml, for proofreading!

the embers burn under the twilight sky, as gojo satoru’s laugh bounces amongst the crowd. with feet buried in the sand, hands stuck in your hoodie, you stare at the bonfire. every so often, someone’ll throw another log in to keep it burning, the wood crackling like fireworks. it’s an interesting set of sounds, sights, and smells.  

your eyes flicker throughout the people surrounding you, some chatting away, some speaking only through makeout sessions, some are probably even arguing. none of them are your friends, not even acquaintances. you’re not sure why you agreed to come out tonight, coaxed by your own friends, who swore up and down they wouldn’t leave you alone this time, but ditched you when they found their hook up for the night. 

meanwhile, on the other side of the bonfire is gojo, handsome with snowy hair and blue eyes hidden behind his staple sunglasses, but loud and boisterous as he jokes with his friends, a small semi circle of individuals surrounding him. must be nice, you think before sighing and taking another sip of your watered down alcoholic drink, looking away when a voice calls out to you making you jump a little. 

“you alright?” he asks, squatting down to reach your eye level as you sit. when you look back, it’s geto suguru right in front of you, his own drink in hand, illuminated by the fiery light of the bonfire and the pale moonlight, the colors clashing against his skin. 

“i’m fine,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady, but you’re already ready to back away. you’ve always thought geto was handsome, tall, with dark hair and dark eyes, and an aura you just couldn’t read. perhaps it was the infatuation that kept you here on this sandy beach, even when your friends were long gone, eyes always finding him whenever one of you passed by each other at parties like this. “you?” 

“it’s alright,” he shrugs, pulling out a cigarette from his shirt pocket and leaning back, using the bonfire to light it up. you watch as he brings it back to his lips and takes a long drag, cheeks hollowing as he inhales, before making sure to blow away from you. “much better when there’s a pretty girl around.”  

you heat up, looking at your toes, peeking through the sand. “.. thank you,” you reply, struggling to look at him as he takes a seat next to you on your towel. “you’re not so bad yourself. you’re geto suguru, right?” 

“why, thank you,” he says, scooting closer to you, “and i am. what’s your name?” 

you give him your name, heart pounding away at the close proximity. beyond the scent of smoke, he smells woodsy, sort of like incense. you wonder if you smell similarly, your vanilla perfume mixing in with the bonfire fumes. 

“pretty name,” he says before he repeats it back, the syllables rolling off his tongue easily and straight into your stomach, “you staying out much longer?”

he makes you dizzy, and somewhat anxious, you were never planning - at least in this lifetime - on ever meeting him, let alone actually speaking to him. you’re not used to this, more comfortable with people watching than interacting.

you shake your head, “nah, i was gonna head home soon,” you glance out toward the ocean swells, waves crashing against the beach before they recede back into the tide. “my friends are already gone, so there’s not much else for me to do.”

“aw, really? that’s a shame,” he replies and you peek back, his mouth pressed into a hard line, his  thumb tapping against his cheek, before he nods, brightening up. “need someone to walk you home?” 

you pause, “um… no, it’s okay, i-”

“you’re gonna walk home this late at night?” he asks, cutting you off with an eyebrow raised, “by yourself?” 

you glance over at the darkened road, the dim lights of the city sprinkled far off in the distance. it’s foreboding and who knows what lurks in the dark? besides, wouldn’t it be better to walk home with someone? the warm amber light from the fire plays on his face as you glance back at him. 

“i don’t bite,” he continues, giving a reassuring smile as his hands come up playfully, “i swear.”  

“… okay,” you give in, nodding, “sure.” you make a move to get up, but he stops you. 

“wait,” he starts, bringing his drink up closer towards you. “let’s have a toast.”

you giggle, the tension easing out of you, before holding yours up as well, “a toast to what?” 

he smiles back, “to new friendship.” he tips his cup to yours, but doesn’t take into account how much stronger his clink would be compared to yours. the rest of your sticky drink crashes down onto you, spilling and seeping through your clothes, while suguru’s quick to mutter out, “oh shit, sorry!” 

you shake your head, “don’t worry! it’s fine!” but suguru isn’t hearing it, his cigarette dangling haphazardly from his mouth as his brow is scrunched in concentration while he tries his best to wipe at the mess with his hands. embarrassingly, your core flutters at his touch, especially when his fingers swipe across your thighs. 

“let me clean you up,” he says, half mumbled from the cig, handing his drink over to you, before unzipping his jacket. “don’t have any napkins on me, sorry.” 

your nerves continue to fire off, getting the best of you and the words of ‘really! it’s fine!’ die off your tongue. you glance around, looking for something, anything, to take your mind off of geto’s sweater dragging across your exposed skin, especially when he dips down in between your thighs dangerously close to your heat, to dab at the liquid that’s dripping off your body. 

gojo’s laugh booms again, causing you to glance over at him and you welcome the distraction. you catch his eye and he gives you an excited little wave, catching you off guard. you wonder if he can see just how flustered you are, but still, you raise your own hand back and he grins wider, before breaking eye contact as someone else calls for his attention. 

in an effort to calm your nerves, the recent memory of gojo’s affable bright smile definitely not helping, you take a big swig of suguru’s drink, forgetting it’s not even yours. his drink is stronger, thanks to the lack of melted ice, burning as it slides down your throat which makes you cough up some, scrunching your nose as some liquid runs down the side of your mouth. 

but geto uses a thumb to catch it, smirking at the way you blink up at him bewildered, “all clean.” 

you take a breath to steady yourself before speaking, “um, could you…  take me home?” you push his hands away, wanting nothing more than to hide under the safety of your covers. at this rate, you might pass out, the night’s been a bit too eventful for your taste. 

he nods, getting up and dusting himself before reaching out with an outstretched hand. you take it without hesitation, tensing when he starts to brush the sand off your shorts. you let him do that for a few moments, breathing hitching when his hand gets concerningly close to the bare skin of the back of your thighs, heart thrumming in your chest and pounding in your ears.

“just making sure,” he says, before he throws his cigarette into the pit, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. “lead the way, princess.” he grins as he steps off to the side to make room and give a small courtesy bow which makes you laugh. 

he makes eye contact with satoru and gives a small wave before leaving with you, catching you each time you stumble in the sand, marked by shoe and foot prints from excited partygoers. he lets you know that he’s got you each time while you mutter out various ‘sorry’s!’ meanwhile, gojo peers over his friends, eyes honing in on your forms before he says a quick goodbye to them and runs off. 

as the two of you are finally on solid land, you hear a “wait a minute!” and glance back. jogging towards you is none other than gojo satoru and suddenly you feel like throwing up. you’re not too good at meeting a new person, let alone two. 

“hi!” he says as he huffs, hands placed on his knees. 

“are you actually winded from that?” geto laughs, a pretty little tune that plays on your ear. 

“i drank so much, dude. give me a break.” gojo responds. 

you’re even more uncomfortable as the two of them joke around, stuffing your hands into your pockets as you stare at the ground. satoru shifts so he’s in your view, bending sideways, pretty snowy hair falling down his face. 

“anyways… hey.” he says again but softer this time, twinkly eyes on yours as the corners of his lips upturn. “i’m satoru.” 

“hi,” you say, giving a small wave, before you state your name. “nice to meet you.” 

nervously, you glance back up at geto, who smiles reassuringly back at you. with your heart definitely beating a mile a minute, you back away. “it’s this way.” you say, jutting your thumb behind you, and the two friends nod. 

“we’ll follow you,” geto says, nudging gojo to stand up straight, who in turn, elbows him back. “go ahead.” 

you nod, trudging forward, listening to their continued talk behind you. it’s just their voices, the sea breeze, and the sound of shoes on pavement as you walk. you look back towards them, taking a moment to eye them, you drink in their tall, built forms, the matching dark outfits, sweaters and all, and for a bit, you decide to trust them. you trust the easy going smiles, the laid-back banter, and the way that satoru smiles each time he looks at you does a lot to ease the tension in your body. 

it’s not too long into your walk, maybe only 30 minutes since you took the last of your drink, before you start to feel… strange. there’s a heaviness that starts to settle in your limbs, your mind going foggy. you reach out, grabbing onto one of their sleeves, who’s sleeve? you’re not sure, but you grasp it trying to dig your nails into the cotton fabric, as your knees buckle from your own weight. 

“hey? are you okay?” a voice asks, bouncing around your brain as the scenery starts to spin. you must’ve grabbed suguru’s sleeve, as you try to focus on the inky strands of hair that fall past his shoulders. you reach out with your other arm, trying to grab onto something as you continue to fall, a ring starting to settle in your ears. 

“geto?” you call, as you feel another large hand on your lower back, trying to keep you steady. “i think, i need… to go home.” but you don’t hear a reply as the void takes over you, swallowing you up, as you fall completely unconscious into the arms of geto suguru. 

the two of them are quiet, the easy-going atmosphere suddenly gone. you’re thrown over geto’s arm haphazardly, limbs limp, as they stare down at you. gojo speaks first.

“that was quick,” he says, bending down to brush your hair away from your face. “how much did you give her?” he trails his finger down your cheek, poking the skin, before tracing the outline of your lips. he has half a mind to kiss you, but decides against it, wanting his first with you to be when you’re awake.

“the usual,” geto responds and if you were awake, you’d see he feels a little colder, eyes almost vacant. “you wanna carry her? you like her more don’t you?” 

“i don’t just like her,” gojo responds, before he’s lifting you out of geto’s arms. “i’m gonna make her my girlfriend and depending on how well things go, i’ll marry her soon.. ish.” he cradles you gently, carrying you in his arms, princess-style like as he watches you with mirth filled eyes. 

geto rolls his eyes, “oh yeah, i’m sure she’s gonna wanna date you after this.” 

gojo snorts, glaring daggers at his best friend, “she’s not gonna have a choice.” 

maybe if you weren’t so naive, you wouldn’t have ended up like this. you blink awake, body still heavy from whatever drug was, or perhaps is, still coursing through your veins. the lull of sleep continues to beckon you over, the weight of your eyelids aiding in it’s cause, but you try to stay awake. something feels wrong. 

you decide to start with your legs, wiggling them around when you realize you’re in a bed rubbing your legs against the silken sheets. you focus upwards, wanting to move your arms to prop yourself up, until you realize: you can’t.

the rope around your wrists is tight, coiled up and keeping you locked in place. even as you try your best to wriggle out of them, you’re doing nothing but giving yourself rope burns as panic starts to settle within your bones.the room you’re in looks normal enough, a desk off to the side, jacket hanging on the door, but there’s something sinister in how normal it looks. and you wonder just whose bedroom is this? 

“oh, hey, you’re up.” you hear as the bed dips under the newly added weight. it’s gojo, peering down at you. he’s taken off his top and jacket, leaving only his pants, and if you weren’t terrified, you’d probably appreciate the sight. you can see his eyes clearly now, his sunglasses sitting atop his nightstand and as beautiful as they are, you can’t be lost in them for long. 

“gojo?” you try, voice barely louder than a whisper. 

“call me satoru.” he responds, a pretty smile gracing his features. 

“where..” 

“are you?” another voice chimes in, a voice that’s sweet, almost mockingly so. you glance towards the direction it’s coming from to see suguru, head leaning against his open palm. he smiles when the two of you make eye contact, the same disarming smile he gave you a few hours ago. “heyo~”

you’re still disoriented, glancing back between the two of them as you try your best to slide out of the binds. 

“hey, hey,” satoru starts, placing a hand over your wrists, “you’re gonna hurt yourself, baby.” his warmth isn’t comforting, it’s terrifying and the way that pet name falls off his tongue so easily freaks you out further. just where the fuck are you?

you can feel your tears welling up, nevermind the fact that your consciousness is still foggy. you’re exposed - vulnerable - with two men you’ve only met recently. there’s goosebumps on your skin, clad in nothing but your panties as you try to curl in on yourself, but gojo won’t let you. instead, he wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer, your head resting on his thigh. 

“gojo,” you plead, starting to sniffle, “i wanna go home…” 

“satoru.” he reminds you gently, before his hand starts to trail up and down your side, trying his best to comfort you. “i’ll take you home later, okay?” 

you shake your head, tears starting to fall, little droplets stain his pants, “why not now-”

“told you,” suguru drawls, interrupting you while his expression remains uninterested, “she’s scared out of her mind.” 

“thanks suguru, great input.” satoru deadpans, shooting him a glare before his focus is back on you. “i can’t take you home yet, but i will. i promise.” and those words shoot straight to your stomach. it’s so eerily similar to earlier, when geto promised he’d take you home and that he was safe. 

“my friends…” you mumble, “are gonna notice i’m missing.” it’s a pathetic attempt of a threat, your friends are already long gone and home for the night, but there’s the hope that when morning comes and your “i’m home” text doesn’t show up, they’re bound to notice, right? 

“hm? which ones? the ones that left you or the ones that let us take you here? oh wait, those are the same ones.” suguru taunts, snickering as the pit in your stomach grows by the moment, “it’s really funny what people will do for money.” 

you furrow your brow, heart shattering at the confession, because there’s no way your friends would sell you out. but the shit-eating grin that won’t leave suguru’s face, almost as if it’s etched in stone, silently confirms your worst fears. “i don’t…” - understand is the word that should be said, but it escapes you like the sand between your fingers on that fucking beach that you never should’ve been at in the first place. 

“okay, so, don’t freak out.” gojo starts, before muttering, “well i guess you already are, huh.” on the brightside, the drug suguru gave you is strong enough that the disorientation nestled so deeply within you is able to keep your screaming at bay. 

satoru’s focus, unlike yours, is almost too sharp. he’s been chasing after you for a while, but finally having you in his headlights is driving him insane. the tips of his fingers continue tracing up your arm til they find the depressions in your neck, that he has half a mind to wrap around to see what you’d look like with his hand as a necklace. but that can wait, he’ll be soft with you for the first time. 

“the important thing is that you’re here with me. you came out to have fun right? have fun with me and i’ll take you home.” he winks, his easy-going front still on full force as he tries to calm you down, but you flinch when he gets a little too close to your lips. 

in your mind you know, there’s always a catch. “what do you want from me?” you ask, voice featherlight, but everyone in the room knows what it is he wants. 

“i think you know,” suguru chimes and if you could curse him out, you probably would. “why else would we bring you here?” 

“hmm,” gojo hums, his thumb gliding across the top of your cheek to swipe at some of your tears. “you know, you’ve been coming around to our little get togethers for a while, but this is probably our first real conversation.”

gojo’s always liked you. when he first saw you, he thought you were cute. doe-eyed and clumsily searching for an open spot to sit while you did your best to hold onto your friend’s shirt, you caught his eye. cuter still were the pretty laughs that came from you, sometimes even snorting when something particularly funny was said. 

there was a minor issue though: you’d never look at him, no matter how much he bounced off the walls, even when he’d head over and say ‘hi’ to your friends, you scampered away much more interested in your hands situated in your lap. and maybe that was the charm, you were prey he wanted to catch. 

it wasn’t long til he noticed your quick, continued glances at suguru and how you only did it when you were sure he wouldn’t notice you. he was sulky at first, irritated that his best friend seemed to take his spotlight, but who is geto suguru if not gojo satoru’s closest and greatest friend? and with enough prying, geto got the information out of him and simply laughed. gojo was a little hesitant when geto suggested a plan, something they haven’t done in a while. 

“i dunno, i thought we decided we were over that.” satoru pouted that day as he stared off, focused on the others at the park. 

“you got any bright ideas, lover boy?” suguru retorted, leaning back on the park bench, hands in his pockets. 

“nah.” he shrugged, elbows on his knees and bent forward. and so they ended up here again, except, in gojo’s bedroom for once. 

“you know your friends were pretty easy to convince,” satoru grimaces, his thumb swiping at your tears. “you should really get some new ones.” 

you’re unsure if you’re more mortified than flattered that satoru feels so strongly for you. but there are no words that spring up in your mind, there’s nothing you can possibly say. 

“listen, the goal here, princess,” suguru starts putting emphasis on the pet name as he gestures between you and gojo. “is that satoru fucks you, you’re his girl, and you guys get to live happily ever after.” 

“...and if i refuse?” you counter, but your voice is still barely above a whisper as tears continue to fall down your face. 

“dunno if you wanna do that.” satoru sighs, before he catches the phone that suguru throws over. he opens it up, before turning it towards you revealing the photos they took of you earlier, tied up and exposed. “i mean you do look really cute in these, but i’d rather they stay in our circle for now.” 

the weight of that word is heavy, because there is no universe in which you’re allowed to say no. you’ve fallen deep into their sticky web with no chance of climbing out, the only thing left is for their fangs to sink into you. the images they’ve taken burn into your mind and you steel yourself to find your resolve. 

there’s a few pros when you think about it. gojo’s handsome, a little funny, and seems to actually like you. you’re not entirely sure if it outweighs the con of fucking drugging and then kidnapping you, but what can you do with the cards you’ve been dealt? geto is whole nother can of worms you don’t feel like delving into. 

“fine.” you sniffle and gojo perks up, lips curling up into a smile. “… i’ll do whatever you want.”  

“told you she’d say yes.” he singsongs as the other rolls his eyes. “that settles it, you’re officially apart of the gojo clan!” neither you, nor suguru, have the heart to tell him that you didn’t actually agree to marriage. 

“well then!” suguru claps, making you jolt. “let’s get started, yeah?” he shifts from his spot, moving til he’s back up against the headrest. “let’s get you a little more comfortable,” he says, pulling you up til your back is flush against his clothed chest. “that’s better.” 

you don’t have time to worry about just how fast things are going when satoru slots himself between your legs, heart racing in fear mixed with anticipation when he pushes your panties to the side as his fingers flutter around your clit. 

meanwhile, suguru is pulling your thighs back, locked beneath his elbows. as much as you want to close your legs, you can’t. suguru’s too strong for you. 

“you don’t need these, right?” gojo mutters, hands gripping one side of your underwear, but there’s no reason to answer as he rips them clean apart, chucking them onto the floor. 

it’s silent for a moment as satoru watches the rise and fall of your chest, quickened in your panicked state, before his eyes meet yours. he grins, “man, you’re so fucking cute, you know?” 

you heat up under his gaze, and you try to look away, but he simply leans in, so close your noses almost touch as he stares deeply into you before looking down at your lips. your breath hitches again as his lips ghost over yours and you shut your eyes when he asks, “can i?” 

it’s an odd first kiss with your hands tied up and his best friend in the same bed as you in a tangled mess of limbs but he’s surprisingly soft. you’re falling, so deeply into the kiss that you don’t notice the way suguru pulls your knees up more so he can get better access to your chest. 

you squeak when you feel a pinch on your nipple, suguru seemingly getting bored and deciding to pass the time playing with you. your squeals soon turn to moans as he rolls the nub between his fingers and satoru uses the opportunity to slip his tongue in, spit mixing with yours as your mouths mesh together. 

his fingers find their way downward again, lightly trailing up and down your folds with feather light touches, making you twitch each time he brushes against your clit. you jolt when he sinks a finger in, encouraged by the wetness of your hole, pushing back against geto in an attempt to squirm away, but you can’t, sandwiched between two men who can do whatever they want, however they want.  

gojo’s good, adding in another thick finger to your slick heat and sliding in your gummy walls. it’s different from when you do it, your digits are slender and smaller than his. you keel, moaning and thighs trembling, but gojo’s lips stay firmly on yours as does geto’s hand which continues to pinch and palm at your breast, sending ripples of hot pleasure through you. 

“you gonna cum on his fingers, pretty?” geto murmurs, voice low as he nips at your ear. 

satoru continues to pump away, fingers curling into your sweet spot and dotting your vision in stars of white. he picks up the pace when you mewl louder, the sound rushing straight to his dick as your slick rolls down his hand. you press further into suguru, whimpering and thighs tensing before you cum messily on satoru’s fingers, bucking and kicking as much as he allows you. 

“that’s it,” suguru drawls, his hot breath on your ear, “good fuckin’ job.” he says it like he’s the one inside you, churning up your insides. 

satoru pulls away, a small trail of saliva connecting the two of you that he laps up with his tongue. he slightly groans at your pretty spit slicked lips, before he’s taking out his aching cock. he’s big. big enough to make you whimper as he rubs your juices over his cockhead, precum already beaded on his tip, before running it through your sensitive folds. he’s slow, wanting to enjoy his first time with you, as he lines up to your still twitching entrance. 

“fuck,” he hisses as he sinks inch by inch into your dripping pussy. the stretch drives you insane even with the prep beforehand and he stills when he bottoms out, hips flush with yours. “sucked me all in, huh?” 

suguru and satoru move like they’re sync’d, somehow knowing what the other wants to do. suguru’s hands are replaced as satoru pushes your knees back up against your chest as your head lolls backward onto suguru’s shoulder, mouth agape.

“ah, ah,” suguru tuts, cupping your cheeks with one hand before forcing you to look back at the other. “let him see your pretty face.” 

“s-sorry,” you manage to say before satoru starts moving, your breath getting caught in your throat as you mewl out, “oh, fuck.” 

a breathless smile falls on satoru’s face, as he watches yours contort in pleasure with each slow drag of his cock within your tight walls that seem to swallow him up with each thrust. your embarrassment is long gone, replaced with a fervent need as satoru fucks every single thought out of your brain. 

“satoru,” you whimper and he digs his nails harder into your thighs, to not blow his load right then and there, but the way you plead his name as you stare up at him with needy, glass-blown eyes almost sends him over the edge. “satoru.” 

“yeah?” he coos, leaning in and tilting his head, as he slows the pace down, “what do you want from me, baby?” 

“use your words,” suguru says, pressing hot kisses to your cheek, reminding you that he’s still there. “c’mon, i know you’ve still got some in that pretty little head of yours.” you can feel his erection pressing against your back, as his hand snakes down to your clit to rub slow, sticky circles on your sensitive nub. “or are you too dumb on satoru’s cock, hm?”

gojo laughs, spurred on by geto’s continued teasing, “aww man i think she is. wanna be my lil cocksleeve? get fucked stupid everyday?” 

he laughs harder when your eyes roll back, cunt clenching at his words, the first time you’ve been talked down to like this. meanwhile, suguru switches to hook a finger into your mouth, digging his nail into the wet, warm cavern of your cheek, hot breath puffing onto his hand. when your eyes flutter up at him, he snickers, “you good?”

you feel a tap on your cheek and shift your blurry focus back on the one inside you, buried up to the hilt while his hips still slightly grind into you. his blue eyes burn through you and in moments like this, you truly can’t read him. “answer me.” 

through the haze you nod, but it’s not a good enough answer in suguru’s book. “you can do better than that.” he chastises bringing his hand down onto your puffy clit, slapping hard enough to make you squeal and bite down on the digit keeping your mouth open.

tears prick your widened eyes as he does it again, “that’s for biting me, brat.” he hisses, and you find your words again, stumbling out ‘sorry! ‘m sorry!’ as drool runs down your chin and his hand. but suguru is fucking mean, swatting down at your puffy pussy, each hit just as hard; a stark contrast to the sneer on his features while he hooks in yet another finger to pull your cheek further out. 

although the nicer of the two, satoru can’t help but be enamored with everything you do, especially if you’re screaming and crying trapped between the arms of his best friend. his cock twitches in your cunt, “well fuck, aren’t you pretty when you’re cryin’ on me?” he groans, pulling back out just to slam his hips back into yours at a brutal pace making you squeal louder.

you’re incredibly overwhelmed, glancing back between the two of them as the tears start to leak down your face again, chest heaving. you hate that it feels so fucking good to be used like this, having absolutely no control. still, you fight against your restraints once more, trying to raise your hands just enough to push against satoru’s abs to slow down, but it’s all moot, he won’t stop until he’s satisfied.

“shh,” suguru soothes, starting to play with your clit again, trying to ease the sting. “sorry for getting carried away, you’re just so fun to ruin.” his hand once again moving to cup under your chin, smearing drool and tears across your skin and  tilting you so that his tongue is able to press against your cheek, licking a stripe to taste the saltiness of your tears as his chest vibrates with a low groan. he can’t wait til it’s his turn to get his hands on you. 

“suguru - oh fuck - ‘m sorry, fuck, ‘m really sorry,” you blubber between moans, still whining and writhing, he raises an eyebrow at you with a hungry grin, liking the way you call his name. 

but satoru’s the one who answers, breathless and groaning, “it’s okay princess, shit, don’t worry about it. just focus on me, alright?” 

you’re pliant and close to your high, easily shifting back to satoru, watching him through muddied vision and mumbling out, “mkay, satoru.” 

the sweat rolls down the side of his brow and he’s so close to letting go, but satoru’s a bit of a romantic, thinking it’d be best for you to cum at the same time. still, the way you call his name has him glaring up at suguru, letting him know what he wants. 

his friend nods in acknowledgment as the speed of his fingers quickens, expertly working over your clit. “c’mon,” suguru taunts, already caught on to how much you like it when they’re mean, “be a good little slut and cum on satoru’s cock, yeah?” 

his words run straight to your core, as you babble out “mhms,” body tensing and jerking as your orgasm is finally coaxed out of you.

“fuck,” satoru hisses, groaning out, “good fucking girl.” as he unleashes his load deep into you. 

you hiccup and whine a few more times before you go limp in suguru’s hold, falling asleep. 

“shit, i think she passed out again.” suguru mumbles before he undoes your bindings, uncharacteristically kind as he rubs his palms over your tired and sore wrists. carefully, he slips out from underneath you, letting you fall back onto the bed. “you overdid it, satoru.” 

gojo’s unresponsive, chest heaving as he stays within you, so geto takes it upon himself to do the finishing touches. he reaches over, grabbing his phone and unlocking the camera app. 

pressing the red button, he captures the scene. you’re effectively passed out at this point, arms sprawled at your sides and head lolled back. this is always his favorite part, even more so than the actual fucking. there’s just something so fun about recording the aftermath, messy and dirty and oh so wet. 

satoru swoops down into view, throwing a wink and a smile, before reaching out for the phone. suguru obliges, tossing it over to let gojo capture what he sees. 

“you stayin’ over?” gojo asks, paneling down the expanse of your skin, littered in sweat, cum, and marks. he makes sure to record when he pulls out, as slowly as he can, to show off your swollen hole leaking out his seed.

“yeah, i’ll knock out on the couch.” geto replies, grimacing as he notices the wet patch of cum and fluids on his pants. he swipes a clean pair of gojo’s hanging on the back of his computer chair before heading out. he stops at the door with a quick turnaround to ask, “let me play with her sometime?” 

“of course,” his friend responds, kneeling down between your legs, spreading open your folds to further watch his sticky cum drip from your abused hole. “i owe you big time. let me know if you need any help yeah?”

gojo’s like a kid in a candy shop, delving his fingers in between your hole and your folds to catch some of the sticky substance dripping to the floor before bringing it up to the camera with a whistle. 

suguru shrugs, hungry eyes scanning back to your sleeping form before his lips curl up into a smirk. “nah, don’t think i’ll need to.” 

and satoru’s the same, just as insatiable as his friend, tossing his phone to the floor before he’s crawling up over you again, nose burying into your dizzying scent. fuck, he should’ve asked if you were cool with somno. well, maybe it’d be alright. it’s not the worst thing he’s done tonight. 

[pinkchrissysposts]

||☆•2 week affirmation challenge for beginners•☆||~(request)

<Hey guy it's been quite while,I shifted for a whole month(which will be 2 days here in my CR) in Koizora DR,for a break from my CR,anyways from the result from today's votes,>

Firstly something we all struggle as beginner to manifest is,obsession,desperation,doubts, procrastation and methods. But guys don't worry it's just a normal phase everyone go through after knowing that we can HAVE ANYTHING we want,logical or illogical. But here me out you don't have to force yourself to get completely rid of those negative,because they are always gonna come up,what YOU have to do is be in control of those thoughts,which mean don't let those thoughts guide you to get in a state of lack. You are more power then that so,flip that shit and focus on the new thought or new story.

I get as someone new to law you will be confuse on what to do,or what to manifest,but the most common is thinking HOW. How do I start,"how do I manifest it into my life?","how is it even possible,will it work for me?". It definitely will you've been manifesting your whole life,but since you are new that's why you're finding it hard to manifest. But let me tell you it's simple,if you are not able to embody state,use SATS,being etc.

So here is the routine you have to follow for the next 2 weeks.

🥗. Create a Pinterest vision board look at it,everytime you feel like you need external validation,or motivation.

🥗. Start your day with affirmations,and use this subliminal and loop it as you affirm. Use the sub atleast 1 hour or more while doing your morning routine and robotically affirming.

🥗. Now robotically affirm as you go on with your day. You can talk with others don't have to shut the world out as Sammy said. Or you can do 30 minutes affirmation 1 hour rest session.

🥗. On free time use this morphic field and continue affirming for atleat 30 minutes headphones are not needed foe morphic field so no need to use one since Sapien recommended himself. Also do atleast a proper 1-2 hour saturation session,you can also do other activities.

🥗. OK you have come so far don't give up take some breaks in between.

🥗. At night use these two subs by SLADE,and fall asleep as you affirm. You can loop is overnight too but it's upto you how long you want to use it.

🍋‍🟩That's it so let's see in brief.

★. Affirm as you wake up with the subliminal above.

★. Affirm for 30 minutes and take 1 hour rest or do robotic affirming the whole day.

★. On your free time use morphic field and do a proper saturation session of 1-2 hour.

★. As you fall asleep use two subs and loop it as you affirm to sleep.

Also you don't have to worry about all the emotions you feel,you wanna cry then cry,feeling guilty it's fine,feeling desperate it's fine. Let the emotions pass,people have affirmed while crying,to the point they throw up(me💀) with desperatation,you can obsess over your desires it'snot a big crime. But the biggest crime is not persisting and checking 3D also procrastinating. Also don't get discourage if 3d shows you something you don't like affirm against it because you are more powerfull then those thoughts.

[withleeknow]

minho and https://open.spotify.com/track/4gAIUEY7VkeiKQOPwIYaYb?si=oZNdDS-aTUm9V7bEycscDQ 🩷🩷

flower.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, a teeny bit angsty?; minho's pov word count: 0.7k note: i am very sorry if this is bad i wrote most of this while half asleep so please forgive me kshdkfhsk

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

main masterlist / request masterlist / ko-fi

one day if a flower blooms in your heart would you be able to understand me?

Flower - DANIEL

minho has been up for a while now, just lying here with you as you snuggle close to him like you can't help but gravitate toward him even in your sleep. one of his hands slips under your shirt where he gently traces the smooth skin of your waist, careful not to rouse you from slumber.

he fails though. maybe a particular swipe of thumb over your body was too ticklish.

"you're so warm."

the words come out a little slurred, a little muffled from where your face is tucked into the crook of his neck, safe and sound on this chilly saturday morning. you stir awake for long enough just to say that, and before he knows it, you're off to dreamland once more, from where you probably won't return for at least another hour or so.

minho halts instantly. you're none the wiser, still sleeping peacefully with your soft breaths fanning his collarbones.

cold, mean, unwelcoming, standoffish, callous. you could name any synonym of these words and he's probably been called that before, by friends and by strangers alike. some of them didn't utter it with malicious intent, but rather it was only a passing comment said in a teasing manner, with a lightheartedness that they didn't think he would mind because, well, apparently he just didn't have enough heart to take it as anything other than a joke.

he's used to it, he's gotten numb to it. somewhere along the way, minho accepted that maybe his name is merely one of those synonyms. it's fine, it doesn't matter. he doesn't really mind it because at the end of the day, none of these people could ever be you.

you're the only person whose opinion he cares about. when all is said and done, he doesn't care if the rest of the world thinks cold and heartless, as long as you know who he is. you're the only thing that matters; everything else just simply... falls away.

he's always struggled with opening up, even if the person on the receiving end is you. it doesn't come naturally to him at all. minho was never raised to be openly affectionate, and it just isn't an inherent trait that he possesses. he's not the kind of guy that tells you he loves you every hour of every day, nor is he the type to smother you with gifts and kisses and grand gestures on a daily basis.

no, minho's love comes quietly, rooted in almost every mundane aspect of life that it's often easy to miss if you don't know where to look. his love comes in the form of packed lunches and home-cooked dinners, of a blanket draped over your form after you've fallen asleep at your desk while working on a project for work. of his hand holding tightly onto yours when you get overwhelmed in crowded places. of his eyes always looking at you as though you're the eighth wonder of the world and he'll never get tired of being mesmerized by you. of texts asking if you've eaten. of sporadic videos of soondoongdori simply sleeping or munching on treats, accompanied by no other message or explanation.

there's a million ways that minho cares for you; he doesn't have to shout it from the rooftops for you to know. you do know, and that's enough for the both of you.

but it's not until you uttered those simple words just now that minho realizes how much he needed to hear them out loud. he's well aware that you didn't mean it like that. you meant it quite literally, because sometimes he does run hot and you've always loved that. your personal human furnace to keep you nice and toasty whenever you wanted. he knows it and yet, he still lets the words wiggle their way inside his ribcage and make a home there. they settle somewhere beside his heart and mend something in him that he didn't notice was cracked and chipped, worn away after years and years of people telling him he was callous.

minho isn't sure how long he's been holding his breath, but the very second he inhales again, everything feels lighter, like he's finally leaving behind some of the weight that he's been carrying with him his whole life.

his fingers resume their ministrations on your soft skin as he presses a kiss to your forehead. he holds you a little tighter, and everything feels like it's going to be okay.

even in your half-asleep state with your mind completely elsewhere, you still manage to take his breath away. maybe you really are the eighth wonder of the world after all.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 19.05.2024]