Cuddling - Tumblr Posts

Cuddle Time

the characters: https://artfight.net/character/2853462.omni

https://artfight.net/character/2312590.hanv-iyxn

Big spoon Ty Lee, little spoon Azula, do you agree yes or no? 👀 Feel free to answer by drawing a doodle of them snuggling 😁🙏

I'm personally a big spoon azula little spoon ty lee type of girl but they are so cute either way!

They look like that one meme under the blanket:

I want that type of fuck session when we cuddle after we fuck and get horny and fuck again

anatomy of a hug ༊*·˚

m.list ◦ askbox

synopsis: cuddling with timothée (hcs)

cuddling is his quiet way of showing you how much he cares for you.

the other’s company is enough and you don’t have to speak, just stay in a comfortable silence. you mold into one. his chin rests on top of your head as his arms wrap around you, keeping you close.

you usually lay together side by side, faces so close that you can inhale the other’s breath. the closeness and the warmth your bodies radiate, create a soothing feeling of safety and comfort.

when sleep is impossible, he wraps one arm around you and lets you lay your head on the crook of his neck. he tells you silly stories, your delirious giggles causing him laughter as well, and you can hear his heart beating faster.

if he’s feeling playful in the morning, he pulls your hand, dragging you back to bed, not letting you leave. his musky smell floats all around your small world as he envelops you in his arms.

« come here... five more minutes... », he rumbles from the deepest parts of his throat. « just come closer. »

on lazy days, you cuddle on the couch while watching movies, trashy ga me shows or anything you find on the tv.

he spoons you with one arm around your waist, stroking your soft skin. his breath on your neck tickles you, stretching a smile on your lips, when he laughs or makes small comments.

he’s restless and has to readjust a million times, which drives you crazy and makes him grin clearly enjoying it.

when you are fatigued, you turn around to face him and you snuggle until sleep fills your eyes. he holds you tightly to him so you won’t fall over and gradually he falls asleep as well.

or he lets you rest your head on his shoulder as you listen to music and you squeeze him. sometimes he sings along, making you chuckle every time he messes up the lyrics.

you prefere cuddling in more private settings like your home or a serene spot outside, but there are times when you are out and you are both tired, so you cling to each other.

your head rests against his chest, heart touching heart, and hands shielding the other from the world in a protective move you’d only find in nature. you raise your chin up at him and he smiles tiredly, his eyes holding a softness that’s only for you. he tilts his forehead against yours and tells you how tired he is and that he can’t wait to get back home.

some nights you cuddle while sitting on the balcony to get some air and have a smoke. he brings you to his lap and lets you sink against him, burring your head on his neck, your lips brushing his skin. his fingers run gently through your hair and he presses kisses on top of your head.

I miss you more than my tired eyes miss sleep.

I deserve someone who actually gives a fuck about me because I've spent my entire life making other people happy when all they did was leave.

@coselete    Serdtse stuffs

Vitsins & Allards

Just normal friend activities, nothing forbidden here.

Please finger fuck me and cover my mouth when I get too loud 🥺

Short bkdk because I am SAD and katsuki is DEAD (for a little bit) 💚🧡

The hospital was miserable. Not just because it was chock full of grieving families and people balancing on the knife’s edge between life and death, but because—despite the fact that he survived—Katsuki was still being grieved.

He could see it in Best Jeanist’s eyes when he visited, dropping off some new, incredibly soft clothes for him to wear that weren’t open-backed hospital gowns. Guilt. Regret. Katsuki was alive, sitting right in front of him, and he still couldn’t quite see past the mirage of blood on his face.

Aizawa, too, had barely been able to look at him. Brought the three third years so he didn’t have to be alone with Katsuki. Face what he saw as one of his greatest failures as a teacher. A mentor. At least that’s what Katsuki thought.

The old man brought well wishes from the class. Some flowers. And the black smudges beneath his eyes. Katsuki wondered if he’d slept at all in the aftermath. If he’d ever sleep soundly again. Katsuki sure won’t.

The third years praised his speed, commenting on how dazzling his explosions were, until the very end. Mirio told him he knew he’d be a great hero one day, that he practically already was one. Nejire seconded that and asked if all of his sweat exploded, and if it was inconvenient because of that. He was so viscerally reminded of Izuku, in the moment, that he nearly started bawling.

Amajiki didn’t say much, but he left a small bento with a note: eat up and regain your strength. thank you. you were incredible.

And still, through their attempts at normalcy he could see the way they watched him. As if he were liable to keel over again at any minute. He was fine, goddamnit. He was healing. That didn’t make him weak.

The hag and his old man visited daily. Couldn’t stop touching his face and neck and tilting him every which way to reassure themselves that he really was alive. That was more the hag, but every so often his old man—who generally strayed away from getting physical with him—would cup his cheek and run his thumb over the new scar there, eyes pained. Katsuki always shook him off, told him not to look at him like that, but the memory lingers, as they all do. The hag wouldn’t even smack him anymore, even when he knew he was being a brat. Taking his anger at the world and his body out on them when they did nothing to deserve it.

All of her touches were light, ghosts of things that made him feel uncomfortably unreal. She asked if he wanted to stay at UA, after everything, and something about the tilt of her mouth told him she already knew the answer. Still, when he said yes, without hesitation, she had to excuse herself from the room, eyes shining.

It was maddening. A purgatory of what-ifs that everyone except him was experiencing. The only ‘what-if’ Katsuki was concerned with was whether or not—if he was just a little stronger, had been able to land even just one more hit— Izuku would’ve been able to keep his quirk. But that’s for him. He keeps it close and inside and it’s no one else’s problem.

Now that he’s out—lounging in his dorm room after a less harrowing round of greetings from all the others, who didn’t know the situation and thus couldn’t feel guilty or grieve about it—it’s louder, the way he likes it. Normal.

Kirishima and Kaminari are wrestling somewhere loud enough for him to hear them jeering at each other. Iida’s yelling at someone for leaving a mess in the kitchen. It loosens something that had scabbed over in Katsuki’s chest.

There’s a knock at his door.

Sero? Possibly, but he would’ve thought he was with Kirishima and Kaminari, filming or something ‘for posterity’. It’s not Todoroki, his self-proclaimed ‘best friend’, because he’s at the hospital visiting his brother.

Before he can stand and open the door, it creaks forward and a bright green eye stares at him through the crack.

“Kacchan?”

Izuku.

Katsuki sighs and shakes his head.

“What was the point of knocking if you were just gonna come in anyway?”

He doesn’t say, ‘leave’ or ‘get out’ or ‘beat it, Deku!’. Izuku’s mouth quirks into a half-smile as he opens the door the rest of the way and steps inside.

“I thought you might be sleeping. I know it’s been a hard few weeks.”

Katsuki scoffs. And another one. Fucking- doubting him. Of course he's exhausted, sleeping is almost impossible right now and people haven’t stopped walking on eggshells around him. Doesn’t mean he’s going to be a pussy about it. He’s going to prove to them that he’s just as he’s always been, that he doesn’t need the goddamn kid gloves.

“Don’t start. I don’t need your fucking pity.”

“It’s not pity, Kacchan.” Izuku’s voice hardens. “I’m not here for you.”

And what a bewilderingly contradictory statement. He’s in Katsuki’s room. What else could he possibly be there for?

“What-“

He doesn’t manage to voice his incredulity before Izuku is on top of him, clinging tight, but gingerly, around his sides and burying his face into his neck. Katsuki nearly flinches back into his pillow with the suddenness of it.

“Deku- what the hell-“

Izuku breathes deep and reaches blindly up to clamp a hand over Katsuki’s mouth.

“Shut up. Give me a minute. And call me Izuku, I know you can.”

Katsuki, too shocked with his words and actions to do otherwise, gives him a minute. Izuku simply lies there, curled over him, and breathes. He matches his inhales to Katsuki’s and taps out the slow thrum of his heart against his hip. Hypnotizing. It’s surprisingly peaceful, and before long Katsuki finds himself lulled into a hazy, half-awake state.

Finally, Izuku speaks, voice hushed.

“You don’t- I don’t think you get it, Kacchan. You didn’t have to see yourself.” He shivers, and Katsuki finds himself raising his own arms to pull him closer towards his own heat.

“Your eyes… Empty. Dull. Dead. It was your body, but I knew you weren’t in there anymore. Someone—Shigaraki—had torn you out.” Something wet splashes against Katsuki’s neck, startling him. Izuku is crying.

“But I’m fine, now. I’m back. Edgeshot saved me.” Katsuki says, haltingly. His voice struggles over the word ‘saved’ but it’s the truth. He had to be saved. Because he couldn’t hold his own.

Izuku shakes his head and presses impossibly closer.

“I know that. I just- I just need to make sure.”

And Katsuki understands. More than anyone, he thinks, he knows exactly what’s running through Izuku’s mind right now. The nauseating mix of helplessness and self hatred.

“Okay.” He says. Then, a crackling whisper, so quiet that it’s only because Izuku is so close that he’s able to hear it. “I’m sorry.”

Izuku’s arms tighten, for a fraction of a second, around him before he pushes himself up. Katsuki swears there’s lightning in his eyes when they look at each other.

“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. You literally died because of me-“ His voice cuts off into sobs. Katsuki watches, dismayed, as another wave of tears begins cresting down his cheeks. Ah, shit.

Katsuki raises his good hand to hover over Izuku’s teary cheeks. Callously, and without much tact, his thumb smears some of the wetness from beneath his eyes. It doesn’t really do anything, and he curses himself for trying.

“Izuku, look, I-“ He tries to pull his hand back but Izuku snatches it from the air and presses it back against his cheek. There’s a wobbly smile building on his lips. Katsuki can hardly bear to look at it.

“It wasn’t your fault. I should’ve-“

“No.” Izuku says, turning to press Katsuki’s pulse point against his face, where he can feel his heart beat. “If it isn’t my fault, then it isn’t yours.”

Katsuki can’t bring himself to agree, yet. Not verbally. But he wants, desperately, for Izuku to stop crying so he nods, once, very stiffly.

Izuku’s teeth glint as his mouth stretches into a real grinning laugh. It feels like staring directly at the sun. Katsuki can’t look away.

“Alright. I’ll take that.” Izuku settles back onto Katsuki’s chest, ear pressed to his shirt as his hands migrate back to cage Katsuki beneath him. Like a blanket, or armor, his weight is familiar to Katsuki, soothing.

“Don’t move.”

Now it’s Katsuki’s turn to chuckle. As if he could. Izuku cracks an eye open to watch him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Ive always hated when people treat cuddles and snuggles as something sexual. I have a much easier time sleeping when I'm cuddling with my cat, his purring relaxes me and let's me drift off. We call my dad the living furnace. Growing up when ever I was cold I would go cuddle with him.

Touch is in general how I show my friends and family I love them, so people sexualizing that makes me, an sex repulsed asexual, super uncomfortable!

And its when people think that where I not only get uncomfortable, but I also start avoiding showing affection to people because I don't want it to be read that way.

In summary; I fully agree with op in cuddles =/= sex.

pls rb if you think cuddling doesn't have to be s3xual

im tryna prove a point to my bf's mother help me out

Give me this on a beautiful fall day 💗💗💋💋with the man I love 💗💗

https://hollylea.com/2020/03/chelsie-levi/

Sketch page comm for @theshotsheardacrossworlds of their precious tav Annie and everyone's fave bear <3

The most adorable commission that I’ve ever had so far, for Bastioner in FA!

http://www.furaffinity.net/view/26482515/

http://ko-fi.com/cinnafluff