From My Ao3 Posts To You, Inspired By Untouchable Things By Bitterlikesweets Https://archiveofourown.org/works/47382331

ingo’s path of solitude

Pixar’s Luca director Enrico Casarosa shares his very own recipe for the Trenette al Pesto featured in the movie. ⁣

Emmy let me hear your thoughts on this

All the inarizaki fellas are the types where if they accidentally “hurt” you(by which I mean literally manage to mildly bump you with an elbow) they’re all the types to be like “IVE ASSAULTED MY POOKIE I DESERVE TO DIE HOW CAN I EVER MOVE ON” am I right or am I right

DUFCBWNFJID THEY SO ARE OH MY GOD-

atsumu takes it the absolute hardest, literally the second you go "oh" (not even OW ATSUMU ITS OKAY-) he is whipping his head at you, eyes blown wide with remorse and watery as if he's genuinely injured you. he takes you in his big arms and rocks you back and forth, kissing your head and whispering apologies to you while you just cock your head and furrow your brows because you're literally fine.

on the other end of the spectrum, we have sunarin; and lets just say sunarin snickers at you when you trip in public. HOWEVER AND BUT, when it comes to anything with him potentially having any harm put towards you, he gets a few grey hairs and years off his expectancy. like one time, he suplexed you onto the couch, and he heard you hiss, and the entire mood changed. he immediately got onto his knees and cupped your face and was so sweet on you for the rest of the night bc he felt bad :(((( only to then, the next day, absolutely manhandle you out of his way while you're doing your skincare routine at the sink bc he needs to piss LMAOOOOOOO

little bit of cognitive dissonance here,

BACKSEAT GIRL ; Atsumu x f!reader

As if he’s trying to memorize every dip and curve of your body, the shape of your soul. As if he doesn’t mold you like molasses underneath his fingertips, perpetuating his name into your being.

contains: f!reader, friends to lovers vibes, college au, mutual pining, heavily suggestive (hence me not tagging anyone from the gen taglist for this i'm sorry), non-sexual nudity (bathing together), no plot just one thousand words of atsumu miya being touch-starved

word count: 1.3k

You didn’t plan on taking him home.

But the words he murmured against the shell of your ear were a little too sweet and his kisses were a little too hungry; and maybe you’ve also dreamt a little too often about Atsumu Miya nudging your legs apart to slot himself between them while he pushes you against the nearest wall–until it all wasn’t a dream anymore. 

It feels forbidden. As if you’re not supposed to know what it feels like to run your fingers over the shaved part of his neck. Or how his canine teeth graze the skin on the side of your neck, leaving trails of faint red marks. Or the way his muscles flex when you slip your hands underneath his shirt to feel him closer. 

He’s just a guy who sits in front of you in class. Someone who occasionally asks you for a pencil or your notes just so he has a reason to turn around to you, who nudges your feet with his underneath the tables when you push them together for group work, who finds a lame excuse to linger behind when you’re too slow with packing up your bag after class, just so he can walk to the cafeteria together with you. 

Atsumu shouldn’t be here; with his hair still a little damp from the shower and naked from the waist up in your bed, in your arms. He’s like a weighted blanket on top of you, his face hidden in the small space between your neck and your shoulder, his hot breath fanning across your skin. Your fingers are tangled in his hair, giving it a slight tug whenever his shameless fingers dip underneath the waistband of your shorts, followed by an airy laugh against your collarbone. 

Just a kiss, you told yourself earlier in that dark corner you both found yourself in, his broad back shielding you from the eyes of anyone else at the party. It was as if he wanted you just for himself, something so easy to brush off as greedy. But there’s something else luring underneath the surface, underneath the carefully composed mask of brazenness he wears so well. You couldn’t figure out what it was, too dizzy from his kisses and his hands roaming your body, but now in the dim light and quiet of your bedroom you can see it so clearly. 

Atsumu is touch-starved.

It shows. There is his hand on the small of your back when he leads you outside through the crowd of people. His fingers interlaced with yours in the back of the cab after he reached over you to secure your seatbelt for you. The stolen kisses during the elevator ride up to your floor and the scowl on his face when the elevator door opened, interrupting you too soon. Him kneeling in front of you while he helps you out of your heels, nimble fingers brushing over your ankle before loosening the clasp for you. The love-drunk expression he gives you when you grab his chin between two fingers, tilting it up so he’d look at you. 

As if he’d ever take his eyes off you to begin with. 

Not when he unzips the back of your dress till it slips to the floor with a soft thud. Not when you push him towards the bed, his hands catching your hips to pull you on top of him. Not when you unbuckle his belt, his fingers digging in the flesh of thighs, his chest heaving with every breath you draw out of him. 

For someone who has never learned how to shut up in his entire life, Atsumu turns into a needy, whining mess underneath you. All coherent words seem to slip from his mind as badly as his self-composure. It’s like he’s pleading for your touch, to feel more of you, to have you fully, wholly, deeply. His hands grasp every part of you he can reach, sometimes gentle, mostly insatiable, always with utter adoration. As if you’re a dream that’ll crumble between his fingers when he blinks.

You bathe together afterwards–or you try, at least. It’s the night you learn that your bathtub is a little too cramped to hold you and someone of Atsumu’s size, but you make it work somehow with your back pressed against his chest, nestled between his legs, his hand splayed out over your stomach. His idle fingers draw small patterns against your skin and every now and then he leans down to press kisses against your shoulder, a low sound of affection rumbling in his chest when he does. 

He washes your hair for you even though you didn’t ask him to, slender fingers working through every bit of tension in your scalp. Part of you believes he does it just so he can charm out more of these sweet little sounds from you that he seems to love so much, but then he tips your head back to kiss you upside down, smiling against your lips, and you think that maybe you’re not the only one who has fallen in love a long time ago.

Atsumu holds perfectly still when you dry off his hair with a towel. He sits on the edge of the bathtub, legs spread to make room for you standing between them. Looking down, you try hard not to think about how he had you grinding against his thick thighs earlier but to be fair it’s impossible to forget how that made you feel, the pulsing still present. There’s his grin again and your stomach does a little flip. I love having you like this, Atsumu murmurs and tugs you closer to him by your waist before trailing countless kisses up from your stomach to the valley of your chest, honey colored eyes never leaving yours. 

As if he’s trying to memorize every dip and curve of your body, the shape of your soul. As if he doesn’t mold you like molasses underneath his fingertips, perpetuating his name into your being. 

If Atsumu was a braver man he’d tell you all about the way you make his heart stumble. How the thought of you being with anyone else makes his chest coil and tighten. That only you allow him a calmness so unfamiliar it scares him sometimes. But the words are stuck in his throat and just won’t come out.

Not yet. Not when it’s you.

Because with you everything is different. With you his prideful heart unravels so easily, finding shelter in your palms. You give all of his touch a meaning, as if everything before you was just hollow. Golden, he thinks. Your love feels golden. Shining bright like a hundred suns, igniting a flame within him. Atsumu has long fallen for you without even realizing it. He gets it now, sees it so clearly when you smile at him; that it’s you. It’s always been you. 

You both don’t bother getting fully dressed after your bath–there’s this unspoken unanimity that you won’t need these clothes for too long. Atsumu carries you over to the bed despite your protests, your laughter mingling with his when he drops you unceremoniously on the mattress and crawls on top of you again, half-crushing you underneath him. It’s a sound he wants to hear forever, paired with your playful shoves against his shoulder and your huffs and puffs, as if you didn’t hook your leg around his middle to keep him close to you. He kisses the side of your neck again, wondering where else he can leave his mark, and what waking up with you will feel like, and just how these three words will taste like once you lick them off his lips.

Ambrosial, he thinks. Just like you.

a/n: starting the year with an atsumu fic was not on my bingo card but here we are. @nekozaki hi ily this is mostly for you my liege

It's always "I love you" and never

Business as Usual

Based of this. Ceo!Kiyoomi x Reader

cw: fluff. smut. breeding. oral sex (f!receiving). reader is an aspiring actress. reader is a foreigner but it isn’t specified from where. ceo!kiyoomi’s most recent business venture is building and opening a museum. probably for tax reasons lmao. misogyny (not by kiyoomi). Kiyoomi’s implied to have issues with his father. men talking business 😫. joke talk of killing.

wc: 3.5k

Ahh, something sweet would be nice…

Kiyoomi’s already squeezing grooves into the back of your thighs before you can formally acknowledge him. “I have a case of chuppets in the freezer you can go at.”

Your gasp is muffled by the floor, half turned from where your bottom half is lazily propped up on the edge of the bed. “You do?”

“You like the strawberry kind, right?” You nod as his fingers creep toward the crotch of your panties. “They’re all yours.”

He can feel the area carpet vibrate from where your groan seeps in appreciatively. “You’re a god, Omi!”

The squeak you let out is pitched as he lands a hard smack on one of your cheeks.

“I gotta meet a couple of investors for lunch so I’m leaving one of my cards for you to order whatever you want from home.” Kiyoomi pulls you apart until your lips part from under your underwear, glistening for him like they should. “But I’ll be back before it gets too late.”

You sway your hips as he pulls your panties to the side, already rubbing tentative circles. “You’re still pretty wet from earlier,” And you can’t help but whine as he pushes two of his fingers inside. “How long do you think you can stay in this position?”

Your eyes nearly cross when he crooks his fingers. “Ah, as long as you need me to.”

His suit pants hiss against the bed sheets as he climbs in behind you, hands still firmly gripping onto your ass cheeks as he positions himself on the bed.

“I got twenty minutes before I need to be walking out the door.” Kiyoomi’s breath is hot against your bare cunt. “So, I’ll try to make this fast-“

The lewd squelching of his tongue parting you from the back would be enough to make you shiver if not for the way he laves you up. Scouring your hole with his hot tongue and groaning at the taste of you, pressing forward to dig himself deeper.

“F…Fffuck! Omi…!”

He’s insatiable as he digs you out with his tongue, lewd as he guides your hips up to tongue at your clit. The depravity at which he slurps you up is so unabashed that you’re already tensing up for an orgasm, and reaching back when he props you up with his hands; zeroing in on your clit to get you to cum in his mouth.

You must’ve already been too riled up from his treatment earlier this morning, it doesn’t take long till you’re nearly sobbing against the floor. Calling for him as he guides you into an orgasm.

“Fuck! I’m-… m’ cumming, Omi!” You pant. “m’cumming! m’cumming!”

The way he grunts into you has another shock wave zipping through the bend in your spine. “Mhm..”

You’re reaching back to push him away when the feeling starts to become overstimulating, but he’s already up on his knees again. Already pulled out of his pants and hungrily lining himself up with your clenching hole.

Kiyoomi doesn’t give you any time to prepare, he’s shoving himself in between breaths and making you choke on your tongue.

He hisses through his teeth. “Oh fuck.” He braces his hands on your sides and starts his pace. “….Oh my god. Fuck.”

Your fingers dig thin miscolorings into the carpet as his thrust knocks the wind out of your lungs. Whining out when he dumps most of his weight on your back and starts grinding in as deep as he’ll go.

He’s in your stomach. “Mhf… angel..” He presses his lips into your shoulder. “You feel so fucking good for me, baby.”

God, the sounds you’re making under him has his eyes rolling back in his head, let alone how you’ve already started milking him for all he’s worth. He could never get sick of this perfect little pussy. His perfect little pussy. So hot and tight and made just for him. He doesn’t even know how he’s gotten this far without it. Especially when he knows how to press all those perfect little buttons on the inside to make you squeal for him.

Kiyoomi supports himself on his arms again to tweak his angle, balls clenching when you start to whine out so prettily. “Kiiiiyomi!”

You reach back so suddenly to push against his button up that he has to pin your arms down to keep you from running away from it. “….s’okay baby you can take it.” He pounds in a few particularly forceful thrusts that turn your whines into hiccuping sobs. “Fuck. Look at you such a…. Good girl for me. Good fucking girl.”

He has to hold himself back from cumming too quickly when you start to clench up. “Omi! Omi! Omi!” You’re shrill. “s’good, Omi! ….m’cumming, Omi! ….I love you, Omi!”

“Oh fuck.. Fucking shiiit!”

You’re already milking him empty when you start to cum. Hiccuping at the way you clench around his hot seed as his thrusts deepen and he fucks you like he’s trying to get it to take. Even reaches into your panties to rub coaxing circles into your sensitive clit just to prolong your orgasm. Grinding himself in until he's certain he’s painted your insides with his spend, and even then he still keeps at it.

He’s still rocking into you when your sobs turn into overstimulated mewls, hot tears making puddles into the carpet.

Kiyoomi lazes a few hot kisses into your inner neck as he softly collides his head with yours. “Mh, I love you too, angel.” He breathes. “So much.”

“You mean it, Omi?” He’s the luckiest man alive.

He finally lets himself fall limp as he peppers a few chaste kisses over your ears. “More than anything.”

He’s never letting you go.

•••••••

There’s a less than usual air of ease around him when he greets Yukko and his associate Kanon.

So much so that the former of the pair lets out a relieved breath as he shakes hands with the young tycoon - and sees he doesn’t revile at the extended contact.

“Sakusa-san,” Yukko bows. “You look better than new.”

Sakusa bows back manneredly. “Appreciated, Yukko-san.”

—-

Sakusa folds his napkin over his lap as they wait for the drinks.

“We’re avid supporters of freedom of choice, the two of us.” Yukko fixes himself in his seat. “It’s a human right.”

Kanon nods. “And your speech on autonomy and liberation at the Kenshin’s banquet really stood out to us. It’s so reassuring to see you setting a standard for this newer generation and putting yourself out there as someone who stands with the people.” He presses. “Very few young men with your upbringing can say that they’re brave enough to do the same-“

“Educated enough, even.” Yukko finishes.

Sakusa pulls his seat closer to his chair. “You don’t have to praise me for something like that. It should be a given.” He hums cooly. As if the speech wasn’t written by his foreigner girlfriend the night before, beat into his head and recited in his ear even as he said it. Not that he doesn’t agree with the message though. “We’re the few people fortunate enough to have a voice when it comes to these things - we should exercise it whenever we get the chance.”

“You’re exactly right!” Yukko waves his finger at him. “There are so very few people like us - like you - who have a seat at the table. And so little of the seats go to someone who means any good with it.”

“Which is why we wanna invest in The International Institution of Innovation,” Kanon adds. “And why we would like to suggest an exhibit to accompany our investment,”

Sakusa nods as they continue. “Japan’s history as - a lot of the world’s history - is ballasted and rewritten with elitist biases in mind. So many little people who’ve done big things, cultural things, buried by mediocrity or the praises of people who lived their entire lives being praised. Worse, having the things they spent their entire lives dedicated to, miscredited to some rich guy who didn’t lift a finger.”

“Our people have worked with a few of the families of these people. There’s a-“ Yukko taps a few keys into his laptop before turning it in Sakusa’s direction. “A few small museums of our own we’ve built in Portugal, Brazil, we have one in an American city you’ve most likely heard of as Las Vegas.”

He reaches over to quietly slide through the pictures. And Kanon huffs a bit in disbelief. - Whoever said this guy was a pain to work with obviously must’ve bumped into the wrong guy. “They’ve garnered a lot of attention in the respective areas. A lot of what they call “Left wing movements” in the United States cite it a lot when referring to landmarks in the state.” Yukko says.

And landmarks they are. If this is what they call small then he must work in a shoebox?

“You haven’t considered opening one up in Japan until now?” Sakusa furrows.

“You know the climate in the world right now.” Kanon sighs. “With the rise of crime, certain political tensions,” There’s a familiar pattern of vibrations that ring off in his pocket, he reaches for it instinctively. “We didn't wanna risk building one in the current political climate and having it destroyed by opening.”

Sakusa raises an eyebrow. “So building an exhibit in my museum is more cost effective.” And he’s not afraid to look as unimpressed as he is. “You know, on the off chance that my museum gets destroyed in this current political climate.”

Well, it’s not like you wouldn’t be able to afford it. “Well, we’re more than willing to do our part on the expenses if something like that were to occur.” We’ll pay what we lose and dip. “And our investment excludes what we’ll pay to build the exhibition.”

“You’re paying to have your names on a plaque.”

Yukko chuckles somewhat. “In short terms, yes.”

Sakusa fishes his phone out of his pocket as their server approaches. “In long terms?”

Kanon slides him the check.

Yup. Sakusa grazes his thumb against that familiar strip of press. Those are some pretty long terms.

“Are we ready to order?”

Sakusa checks his messages as the two men speak before him.

Angel: i hope ur having a good lunch!! i got u a sooprise <3

Kiyoomi: It’s alright. I wish I was home with you more than anything.

Kiyoomi: A sooprise? Now I’m excited.

Angel: i wish you were here too :( i can’t wait till ur back so i can give you a kiss on the forehead

Angel: i hope u like it!! i know u haven’t had it in a while

Kiyoomi: I haven’t had it in a while? What’s something I haven’t had in a while?

Kiyoomi: Oh! Are we talking about the last time you sat on my face?

Angel: we are not, my love. but good guess

My love. He smiles.

“What about you, Sakusa-san?”

Sakusa glances at the server before looking off for a moment, answering curtly. “Okaki, please.”

He nods. “Alright! And anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

He leaves with a bow.

Sakusa inhales deeply as he sits his phone on the table. Picking up the check and holding it before glancing at the two sitting before him. “You two are very generous.”

Yukko raises an eyebrow. “Is there a ‘but’ coming?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’d like to add your exhibit to my museum.”

The two men both let out a collective sigh of relief. Now that the richest twenty-six year old in all of Asia has agreed to have their names engraved next to his on a project like this. - Even if it did cost them an arm and a leg. You know, from the stories they’ve heard, they were expecting to leave with their tails between their legs after offering to impede on a project orchestrated by the most “Pragmatic Rich Kid in the country.” But he’s… surprisingly personable. Even without mention of the sheer intimidation he exudes.

He’s certainly nothing like his father.

“That’s amazing to hear, Sakusa-san. We’re honored.” Kanon sighs.

Yukko nods. “And trust, you will be involved in every part of the construction process. We want to be as transparent as possible when installing this exhibit.”

“Do you have any blueprints drawn up?”

Yukko hums excitedly as he pulls his laptop toward him again, tapping loudly as he searches for the file. “We do!”

Sakusa patiently waits as he fishes through his laptop, glancing at the server as he comes back with their food.

His phone buzzes across the table.

Angel: You better be eating more than Okaki!

He visibly blushes.

Kanon furrows at the expression of the young billionaire in front of him as his associate busies himself with his laptop, following his eyes toward his phone.

Disregarding the text from his girlfriend?! He gasps at the picture on his lock screen.

“Is that _____?” Kanon asks. “Oh god she’s so talented!”

Sakusa nods a little abashedly as he reaches for his phone. “Are you a fan?”

“My daughters love her. Oh well, my sons do too but not in the way my daughters do - If you know what I mean.” He laughs as Sakusa’s back straightens. He knows his sons, knows they’re about his age if not a little older. Knows he might have to have a talk with them one day too.

“We saw her just recently at the Blue Ribbon Awards. Can you believe she won?” Yeah, after watching you work yourself to the bone just to come back with so little to show for it. “I for sure thought Tomomi Minoru would’ve had it.”

I’m sure you haven't heard that a million times.

“But who wouldn’t take it a little easy on a woman like that?”

Or that.

It’s nearly painful how much Sakusa’s trying to keep himself from outwardly scowling. Especially when Kanon starts to open his mouth again, familiar hearts in eyes most men seem to adopt when they’re drooling over the woman he’s in love with. “I’ve gotta be what - twice her age maybe. But we’re all men here? The woman’s a doll. Talk about lucky work. Especially for a foreigner.”

Oh yep, he’s scowling. “I wonder what she looks like in person.” Yukko asks absently. “You think she’s as pretty as she is on T.V. or do you think it’s the make-up they usually cake on there…”

“She’s breathtaking.” Sakusa says flatly.

Kanon tilts his head as Yukko glances over. “You’re kidding? You’ve seen her in person?”

“Yep.”

“Well, I mean,” Yukko sits his laptop back on the table as he reaches for his drink, wincing as he sips. “Sakusa-san’s Sakusa-san. He’s most definitely got the funds.”

“Ohhh. Did you book her?” Kanon chuckles a little slimily. And the connotations of that are clear. So much so that Yukko rolls his eyes when he nudges him. “She’s just old enough for someone your age, right? Still young but not too young.”

Sakusa inhales.

“No. I don’t have to book her.” He admits tightly. “Since we sleep in the same bed.”

The two men freeze in place.

Kanon opens his mouth for a long silent moment until he’s pushing out his breath in little clips of his voice. “O-Oh… You two are-“ Sakusa nods. “Oh! Oh my god! I’m… I’m so sorry-“

“I hear it all the time.”

“Yeah but it’s still not good that I said it!” Kanon glances at a frantic Yukko.

“We didn’t mean to come off so disrespectfully!” Yukko flushes.

Sakusa shakes his head. “The blueprints.”

“W-What?”

“Show me the blueprints.” He gestures to the laptop.

Yukko clumsily turns it in his direction.

•••••

He’s barely through the door when you’ve already found your place in his arms. And he melts over you like butter, you let yourself be wholly suffocated by him.

You’re warm as you hum into his chest. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi, angel.”

“How was lunch with your investors?”

Kiyoomi exhales as you stand on your toes to help him out of his suit jacket, conditioned draft in the air scented by that new conditioner he likes seep into his nose and turn his brain into mush. “It was… lunch with my investors.”

He bends himself nearly in half to nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. “They wanna build an exhibit in my museum ‘cause they don’t wanna risk building their own and having some terrorist take it down.”

Your tone is so mirrored to his from earlier that it evokes a chuckle. “So they’ll risk yours?”

“Mhm.”

You mumble something sour into his shoulder. Lucky him he’s well versed enough in your native tongue to understand the phrase “Assholes.”

Kiyoomi kisses hot spots behind your ear. “They’re fans by the way.” He grimaces a little sourly into your neck. “Big fans.”

“Hm? I came up?”

He hums. “Kanon saw your picture on my lockscreen and proceeded to shove his foot in his mouth.” Kiyoomi breathes in a long whiff of you before blowing out temperedly. “Was under the impression that you did bookings.”

You chuff airly as you rub up and down the expanse of his arms consolingly. It doesn't really phase you to be slobbered over by men anymore, hasn’t really since your debut back as a fresh faced eighteen year old. But Omi’s still really new and unkind to the rubbernecking that includes being associated with a woman like you, let alone to love you.

“Bookings, huh?” You snicker as he nods his head silently. “I mean… to his credit I have put on a show for you once or twice.”

He scoffs before pressing one last firm kiss into the crook of your neck and standing up to his height again, pinching your cheek as he starts for the rest of the penthouse. “Yeah, but those are for my eyes only. - And they’ll stay that way.”

Kiyoomi sets his things on the marble of the lounge room table with a sigh. He’s been working nearly every day since the construction of his museum finally came into fruition and he couldn’t feel any less drained from it. Decent contractors have become harder and harder to find in this new age of impermanence and variability, and everybody who’s anybody seems to have their own two cents about his choice of structure or how they could be a part of it somehow. If he were a less honorable man - or a more unsavory man much like one he knows so particularly, he would’ve hired any three star contractor who could draw a decent circle, put all his focus into charming investors, and underpaid his workers just to save a few extra pennies. But he isn’t that. And a businessman like him prefers to be as close to the business as possible; wants to see his efforts turn out the way they’re supposed to.

He pouts a little to himself. But he also wants to spend time with his baby too.

“I’m gonna be beating them off with a stick for the rest of my life, aren’t I?” He exhales. “Is that the price I pay for loving a beautiful woman?”

You press a light kiss into his bicep as you glide for the direction of the kitchen. “Like you didn’t make the cover of Vanity Japan’s Handsome and Wealthy this spring.” You poke. “I’ll have to start burning incense before I visit you at work just so I don’t catch the evil eye from any of your female employees.”

He chuckles a little tiredly as he trails behind. “You’ll be fine in any case. Not like I didn’t start growing Aak the minute we made it official.”

“Very funny.”

“I know right-“ He sniffs.

His mouth immediately starts to water.

“Did you…?” Kiyoomi glances at the plates laid out on the kitchen counter. “Cook?”

You smile brightly. “Sooprise!”

Kiyoomi doesn’t know how to respond.

It smells… heavenly. Like freshly cut ingredients and even spices, pervading the air so warmly that his skin prickles before settling comfortably under his button up and he’s nearly inclined to openly salivate at just the smell of it.

You fish a spoon out of a pot near the stove, scooping the contents of it carefully into a bowl. “I know how long it’s been since you’ve had a home cooked meal and you’ve seemed so stressed lately.” You lean into him when you feel his chest press against your back, reaching up to caress his jaw as his arms fasten themselves tightly around your waist. “So I bought a few groceries instead of takeout and made something from home!”

You can’t help but grin when he starts to dig his nose into the crook of your neck again. “I hope you like the surprise.”

“If you ever leave me I’ll kill us both.”

You guffaw wholeheartedly.

reblog for one trillion dollars 💵 🤑💰💸

so, who’s the clingiest?

achilles: [sitting on patroclus’ lap, twirling his black curl around his finger while nuzzling into his neck]

achilles: patroclus, obviously

I’m so happy that we can make the Noble Pursuit cocktails in TotK I love the idea of getting Link white girl wasted and then sending him into battle

(I know it’s meant to be non-alcoholic but I can dream)

~ HAIKYUU LINKS TAG TEAM

pls don’t read this if you don’t like porn links please know that the characters are up to age meaning they are either adults or teen ages 18-19

~ AKAASHI KEIJI

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~ TSUKISHIMA KEI

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~ KENMA KOZUME

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~ OSAMU MIYA

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