ETSY

ETSY

hey y’all so uHM i opened an Etsy shop !! i am by no means professional or overwhelmingly talented but all of this makes me happy so i wanted to share !! as of right now i don’t have a lot but over time i will eventually make stickers and keychains (super pumped for that) !! please don’t feel obligated bc im hella nervous about this ajshsj so proceed as you wish !!

MY SHOP (i also have an instagram under the name mopopcrafts so you can check that out if you would like)

NDJSJS IM CRI DDJDJSK

pups during their nap time days zzzzzzz

88 w Joon 😉 lets get it

@fakeleaves asked: Namjoon + 88 🤤🤤🤤

@cobiekoo asked: 88 w namjoon ;)

Anonymous asked: namjoon and 88 😏

▷ pairing: big!namjoon x reader (sorry my size kink just went heLLO) ▷ genre: smut, a teeny tiny teensy weensy bit of fluff i think ▷ word count: 1.7k ▷ prompt: 80.“Choke me.” a/n: i wanna give y’all endless smooches for sending these. i think i went too far with this one rip

“Who’s your tall friend Hoseok?”

That was the first time you ever addressed Kim Namjoon, even though the question wasn’t directly addressed towards him, it was more than clear that it was meant for him considering his head was the closest to the ceiling out of the four of you.

Hoseok was the one who had introduced and brought Namjoon into your tiny friend group consisting of you, Yoongi, and Hoseok, with the new rather big addition.

Even though you had first brought it up as a joke, it sort of morphed into your own little defense mechanism seeing as you had managed to develop the fattest crush on him the second he flashed those dimples your way that first day. It wasn’t that you were strictly into tall or buff guys, no, you’ve had your fair share of varying heights in your past boyfriends and you surely did not discriminate. However, you couldn’t deny the feeling you get in the pit of your stomach every time you stood next to Namjoon and felt so much smaller in comparison to the man. Or how you unconsciously reach for your water bottle and chug half of it down when he chooses to wear a shirt that’s a bit too tight and shows off how much time he spends working out in the gym. Or that little tingle you once felt when, after months of growing closer and closer as friends, he had playfully lifted you up with ease when you were both mocking around.

He was such a sweet guy, polite, courteous, intelligent, deep-set dimples and a gorgeous smile. And, bonus, he was fucking huge. And you nearly combusted that night when he shyly asked you if you wanted to get something to eat, and when you had agreed casually and inquired about Yoongi or Hoseok, his cheeks tinged pink as he told you that he wanted it to be just the two of you.

With time, you grew accustomed to the size difference.

No, no you didn’t. That was a complete and utter lie. And to add fire to the fuel, Yoongi and Hoseok teased the both of you about it every single second they could.

“You guys talk as if you could bust the ceiling with the tops of your head,” you scoff at them one day.

“Well, no, but at least my boyfriend won’t squash me to death if he lies on top of me,” Hoseok retorts and throws an arm around Yoongi, who immediately leans further into his embrace. You scoff once again because you have nothing to say and you can feel your cheeks heating up as Namjoon laughs and wraps a strong arm around your neck and brings you in to kiss your temple.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he murmurs into your skin and you do nothing but giggle shyly and playfully push him off.

+

You can’t really think. All you remember is him inviting you over to stay the night for the first time. The plan was to supposedly watch a movie but all that movie served now was background noise to soft noises of kisses being exchanged and breathy sighs intermingling between the two of you as he pressed you into the mattress with his body.

It’s a mess of limbs growing closer until there was no space left between, heat building further and further up until it was getting too much and he was pushing away from you to grab the neckline of his black t-shirt and tug it off in one swift move. Your breath hitches in your throat because, as large as he looked, you didn’t expect him to be this toned. He was the perfect mix of soft and firm, big all over while still maintaining some pudge here and there that made him appear even more perfect.

You gently grab the necklace that swings from his neck and giggle as you breathlessly bring him back into another kiss that he softly groans into.

+

“Fuck—“

If you didn’t already think Namjoon was the perfect package before (just to be clear, you did), you definitely believed that now with the way his cock nudged so deep inside you. You’ve never felt so full. He was coaxing so many unfamiliar sounds out of you, noises you never even thought you could make from hiccupped moans to downright squeals, his cock nudging all the right places and rubbing into your pussy just right.

“Shit,” you whimper. You’ve both already built up a sweat and he looks like a sweaty god above. His jaw is clenched so tight, hair now falling over his forehead, damp with building sweat. The squeak of the mattress can be heard every now and then but it’s mostly covered with your sounds of pleasure. You look down and watch, cunt clenching immediately the second your sight fell on his cock drilling into you. It was a lingering thought in the back of your head that you’ve never been this wet before, you just know it. It’s Namjoon. It’s just him. He has an effect on you that brings the heat into your core within mere seconds, and the way his muscly thighs are currently slamming into yours and pounding you into his sheets, you feel yourself gush more against his cock and he groans. “You’re so wet, baby. Fuck.”

“J—Joonie,” you whimper. Your eyes cast down once again because you feel his hands grip onto your thighs tight and tug you a bit down further as his cock digs deeper inside you. A strangled cry is heard, his balls slapping against your ass now creating a lewd smack that has you mewling. His hands. They’re gripping you so tight, moving your body to his pleasure, molding your thighs and spreading them further to drill his cock deeper into you, grunts and groans escaping his pouty lips.

“Joon! J-Joonie—baby!” You squeal. Your hands scramble for the sheets, back arching and head tilting back. “Fuck!”

“You’re so good,” his words are frantic and his hands are traveling up your body, and you feel as if he’s worshipping you as he keeps uttering praises. “Fuck—so pretty. So wet.”

“N-namjoon—“ you hiccup. You watch through hazy vision. He looks even bigger from where you lay, between your spread thighs. He looks like he’s eating you up with his eyes and that he could fuck you even harder if you asked him to, He looks like he would do anything you asked him to because your cunt felt like heaven right now and he was drowning in it.

And so you ask.

“Choke me.”                    

It sounds like he chokes on air for a second and his hips do falter, stilling for just a second before continuing with his pace. His eyes lock with yours, a wild look spiraling somewhere inside there, and he purses his lips in an attempt to control himself.

“You sure about that, baby?” His voice is so deep you could practically see his chest vibrate with every syllable he grunted out.

“Yes. Yes. Do it,” you practically beg, and to encourage him further, you reach down for his hand, shaky fingers grapping onto his as you lead him to your torso. However, he goes harder at that exact moment and your hand falls weak against the mattress, nerves going limp as you will your body to take every ounce of pleasure he provides you with.

His hand is around your neck in the next second, long fingers wrapping around the skin you expose so willingly and he squeezes gently. He almost doubles over your body at the way your cunt grips him so tight and this time he doesn’t hesitate to deliver a firm squeeze.

“F-fffuck—“ you whine out, mouth dropping open and eyes rolling back. It’s so much. And as if it wasn’t enough, he’s leaning down, sweaty chest brushing against your sensitive nipples with every roll of his body into yours, hand remaining around your neck. “Joonie!”

“Yeah?” He murmurs into your cheeks, placing random kisses on whatever skin he could reach. Your skin, your chin, your mouth. Everywhere. He squeezes harder, the hardest he’s had so far.

“Oh! Oh—oh god. Fuck fuckfuck—Joon. Don’t stop!” You squeal out. Trembling hands slip down his sweaty back and you pull him closer and he has no choice but to take his hand off your neck to steady himself against the mattress as not to squish you with his weight, but you whine needily and pull him even closer until your breasts are mushed into his chest and there’s not an inch of space between your bodies. “Fuck me. Fuck me fuck me pleasepleaseplease—“

He’s growling at your little noises and his hips fuck into you so hard and so fast your moans are getting chopped up. His abdomen is pressed flush against yours, and he’s rubbing into your clit and everything feels so fucking intense that you’re thrashing beneath his weight.

“Jesus—fuck your pussy feels amazing,” he heaves into your neck. Your hands grip his sweaty face and bring him into a breathless, messy kiss that’s all sweat and spit.

“Yes—hmph—Joonie!” You whimper and moan weakly into his mouth. The lewd squelch of your juices is so clearly heard it somehow turns you on even more. “Gonna cum. I’ll cum Namjoon—fuck please-please. Don’tstopdon’tstop—“

You’re shaking and kicking against the sheets.

“Namjoon. Joon. Oh Namjoon—“

You cum, his name leaving your lips over and over again in hoarse, weak cries and he watches in awe as you fall apart beneath him, reaching his high at the sinful sight and muffling his groans into your lips as he covers your mouth with his. The wetness leaks down, you can feel it, but you don’t care and only lazily run your fingers through his now completely wet hair and enjoy the feeling of his tongue slipping deep into your mouth.

He slumps against you and for a second you lose your breath, but you grow accustomed to the weight and hug him closer as he pulls away from your mouth and buries his face in the pillow beneath your head. You breathlessly watch the ceiling for a couple of seconds before he pulls his face away from the sheets to smile goofily down at you, dimples making an appearance for the first time in a while tonight. You giggle at how cute he manages to look after fucking you stupid.

“You’re filthy,” is the first thing he utters after pecking your lips gently, cock still lodged deep inside you. You smack him on his shoulder and scoff at him.

“Shut up, it’s not my fault you’re so hot.”

*RM Voice* To all the Thots without dreams

this is 14 y/o joonie

He didn’t know how to tie to shoe lace so he wore velcro ones. This was runch randa the underground rappers were so scared of and yoongi himself was too. This was the rapper that learnt how to tie laces at high school. This is our Grammy nominated legend rapper, master lyricist & producer, artist, and member of bts, Kim Namjoon 🥺🥺

// prodk0ya twt

“This predictable cycle—incipient paralysis followed by re-animation, as if I was a robot in need of periodic upgrades—comprised my only understanding of depression. I knew how to recognize the signs. Depression was turgidity. It was ponderousness. It was a feeling of being mired in some cement-thick joy- blocker. It was a guilt-ridden hatred of oneself, an exhaustive, tallying hatred in which you took stock of every time you’d disappointed or hurt someone or something, and obsessed over every aspect of every such situation with a forensic and lacerating fervor that left you paralyzed, sweating impotent remorse. It was an incurious, trudging rigidity, an insurmountable estrangement from anything honest and unfeigned. It made sleep the only tolerable state of being. It’s boring to live with and boring to describe and boring to read about. It’s just monotony, in the most magnified, eternal, and damning sense of the word. In its most severe phase, after any storminess or tears have been spent, it makes you unknowable, wraps you in a kind of insulating and blank opacity, like that of a taxidermied owl: you have no expression, and neither, through your lens, does anyone else. It is, above all things, enclosing. And there’s a horrific protection in that.”

— Suzanne Rivecca, Ugly Bitter and True