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writingsbychlo · 4 months ago

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WITHDRAWAL | theodore nott

summary; theo decides to quit smoking, but doesn't realise that his decision would affect his girlfriend, too.

word count; 3007

notes; just a cute, fluffy little piece based on something that I was tagged in about 2 months ago! unfortunately, I cannot find the original post or tagger, but if it's you, please let me know!!

If there was one thing about Theodore Nott that couldn't be denied, it was that he loved with everything he had.

He loved his friends; he was loyal to a fault and he’d never let them down. He loved his family, he wrote over fifteen letters a week to all his aunties and cousins, and still held onto his mother’s recipe book, even to this day.

And he loved, adored, his girlfriend with everything that he had. He’d do anything for her, crawl across hot coals if she asked, give up his magic and his money and his legacy, just to make her happy. She’d never asked as such of him, still blushed when he pulled out his wallet when they shopped and smiled brighter than the sun when he gave her a handmade card or something he’d cooked. So, to his eyes, it didn’t seem all that much when he decided to give up smoking for her.

She hadn't asked him to, never even pulled a face when he smoked. But Theo was damn sick of trying to blow the smoke away from her when she joined him at the astronomy tower, cuddled up to his chest, because he didn’t want that poison near her. He hated watching her shiver on the colder nights, he hated waking her in the middle of the night when he got up to satiate that itch, and he hated thinking of a future where he left her too soon, running short on time, because he ruined himself.

He chucked his last box into the fireplace one impulsive morning, and thought he might go cold turkey. He’d been so moody by lunchtime that he’d almost bitten Enzo’s head off over the way he pronounced ‘tomato’. That afternoon, he’d ditched his classes and trudged through the snow to the floo connection at the Hog’s Head, and picked up enough nicotine patches from a muggle supply store to knock out a fully grown Hippogriff.

He’d torn the packaging off of one in the grimy restroom at the back of the store and slapped it onto his bicep, and almost collapsed from the relief it gave him. It wasn’t nearly as effective as picking up a packet from the newsagent’s stand he’d passed would’ve been, but as soon as his fingers had twitched to pick up a box, your face had flashed through his mind. Your face, smiling at him, your face that morning telling him how proud you were of him when he’d shared his goals in hopes of support, and it was enough to deter him from the purchase.

You were his strength, once again, as you’d always been.

And truly, you were so proud of Theo. Changing his patches for him every evening, in time with that first one. Reading up on the muggle solutions, and making sure you were fully versed on how to help him. Keeping him busy seemed to help, when he got bored, his eyes started flicking towards the door, and the slight irritability he’d been able to keep a lid on pretty well would begin to flare up. For the most part, he’d been staying at your dorm, in an active attempt to keep away from Mattheo, who wasn’t quite ready to give up his comfortable vice just yet.

Unfortunately, as the days went on, while Theo seemed to be handling it just fine, you were struggling. The irritability grew, even Draco’s breathing was making you want to snap pencils in half in the library, or throw Enzo off the astronomy tower if he scraped his fork on his plate one more time. You were ravenous, and nauseous, all at the same time. You wanted to eat everything but could hardly hold it down. You were dizzy, and fatigued, and your grades were going to start slipping if this continued, because it had been almost a week since you’d been able to concentrate on any thought longer than a minute, never mind a whole class.

And now, you were lying in bed, rubbing at your eyes angrily but unable to sleep as you stared at the ceiling. Theo, for once, was sleeping soundly beside you. Since giving up smoking, his sleep patterns had been getting better, while yours were getting worse by the night. Almost a week, and you’d barely gotten nine hours of sleep put together.

When you shuffled again, pressing yourself a little closer to Theo as you rolled onto your side, he began to surface. The arm over your midriff tightened, pulling you in until your hips were bracketed against his, and he chuckled sleepily into your neck. Burying himself in, he pressed a kiss there, and another, and another. The rough pounding of your heart settled as you clasped Theo’s hand in your own, holding them to your chest as he littered your shoulder with kisses.

At your sigh, he rolled you over, propping himself up on his elbow and yawning. Shaking his hand free from your own, he stroked the back of a finger along your cheek, and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. As his hand settled on the side of your neck instead, yours slipped up to cup his jaw, and you melted into the tender love he offered you in the darkest hours.

“What’s wrong, tesoro? Why are you awake?”

“Why are you awake?” you rebuffed, fingers lifting to comb through his hair, to push it back out of his eyes as he blinked himself a little more awake.

He shrugged, “This is about the time I’d normally go for a smoke.” He murmured, and your eyes flickered to the clock.

You knew well enough the schedule Theo used to keep while smoking. Your timetable had slowly synched to it over the time you’d been dating. He’d wake up during the night, at some point around two, and disappear for a smoke. He’d take twenty minutes, or thirty if he bumped into Mattheo, and then he’d come back to bed.

You didn’t mind the disturbance. Not when he’d come back slightly chilled from the night air and snuggle in close to you, wrapping himself around you.

“Actually, this is the time you’d normally come back from having a smoke, and give me my midnight kisses.”

“Is that why my girl is so restless tonight? Because I owe her some kisses?” He teased, leaning down until your noses were bumping, and you could taste the mint on his breath. Normally, he tasted like smoke, not toothpaste, and the shock of his warm lips instead of cold ones made you hum.

The languid kisses melted the time away, his hand sliding up your shirt, sitting on your ribs and squeezing softly as he lowered himself down, covering your body with his own. Theo had always been your comfort, and your happy place. Being in his arms made you feel safe, and his kisses made you feel relaxed. As he licked his way into your mouth lazily, you anticipated the hazy blur of relaxation that usually followed when he kissed you.

But, like usual recently, it never came. Instead, when he finally pulled back, and pecked the tip of your nose, he found you frowning, instead of smiling up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” You huffed, frustrated at yourself, at your confusion and the growing irrational irritation. “It’s not the same.”

“What’s not the same, bella?”

“Your… your kisses.” Your words trailed to a whisper, knowing he wouldn't understand, and the hurt that flickered across his face made your heartbreak.

“They’re not?”

“No. I don’t know why.” His lips curled further at the sides, and the look on his face made you want to cry. It made you hate yourself, aggressively, and if you could tear out your own heart and give it to him just to see him smile again, you would. Just another thing you’d been suffering with lately, an overwhelm of your emotions, worse than any mood swing you got when you were on your period. “It’s not you, Teddy, it’s me. You’re still my happy place, you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s me. I’m the problem.”

“You’re not a problem, bella. But we should figure it out. I don’t want to… kiss you wrong, and see that look on your face. What’s different, tell me what’s changed?” His sweet words made tears prickle at your eyes, and you sniffed sadly as you looked at him.

“I love you so much, Theo.”

“I know, tesoro. I love you too.” His thumb smoothed over your cheek, “Tell me.”

“I don’t know!” Your snap made his eyes widen. “You’re just… different. You don’t kiss the same way, you used to get all needy when you came back from a smoke, but you don’t anymore, and you taste different! You taste like mint right now, and it just doesn’t make me feel the same way afterwards.”

Your words were jumbled and hurried, rushed out as you smoked them and his brows furrowed as he tried to decipher what you meant. Second ticked by into silent minutes as Theo’s wonderful mind ticked and whirred, thinking the problem through, and playing with the information. Then, before you could say anything else, something clicked. You could see it in his eyes, when the gears stopped turning and the thoughts stopped flowing because he’d found the answer.

Pulling away from you, he sat up, kicking back the covers and letting in the cold air, before moving across the room and shuffling through his gym kit left in the corner. Pulling out a nicotine packet from the box inside, he shook it out, using his teeth to tear open the packet as he made his way back to the bed. Sitting yourself up, you propped yourself in the pillows as he peeled off the plastic backing, and tried to unstick his fingers from it, holding it by the corners.

“You’ve only had your patch on for nine hours, Teddy, it’s not time to change yet.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head and settling in beside you on the bed, legs folded underneath himself. “This isn’t for me, bella. Take off your shirt.”

Slipping your arm out of your shirt, you pushed it to the side, watching as Theo brushed cotton fibres off of your shoulder, before sealing the patch onto your skin. He made sure it was properly sealed down, flattening it to your skin, before feeding your arm back through the sleeve of your shirt. He smoothed the top back down your torso, pressing a cheeky kiss to your breast over your heart as he did, and sitting back on his legs to wait.

“Give it a second, then tell me how you feel.” He whispered, the moment feeling entirely too fragile as his hand took yours, fingers linked together. He kissed along your knuckles, his eyes locked on your face, waiting. And the moment you felt it hit, you knew he saw it too.

It was like a cool, soothing balm over a raw, aggravated wound. It felt like running cold water on a new burn or healing a painful graze with a quick Episky. “Oh, Merlin…”

“I know, tell me about it.” He mumbled, the smile on his face at victoriously solving the problem melting away as realisation set in. “Cazzo, bella, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have a nicotine addiction, and it’s my fault. All that time you spent with me at the tower, and the smoke on me, and kissing you as soon as I finished smoking. All your moodiness these last few days—”

“Hey!”

“It’s true, baby. It all makes sense.” He rubbed a hand over his face, and squeezed your hand tighter in the other. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I quit because I didn’t want this to happen to you, I didn’t want my problems to poison you, but it’s too late.”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me, Teddy.” You demand again, pulling him in, and his mouth collides with yours as he makes a subtle groan of surprise and pleasure.

His hand gripped the headboard behind you, the other skimming down your side. As you leaned back into the pillows, you took him with you, his body falling over your own, slotting between your thighs as our hearts thudded together where his chest pressed to yours. Your hands slid over his shoulders, skimming down his back, and he moaned again as your fingernails scraped across his lower back as you tugged at his shirt.

He sat up, letting you pull it off of him, before his arms were back, caging you in on either side as he fell back down against you. Pulling one of your legs up to sit on his hip, he dragged himself away from your mouth, trailing wet kisses down your jaw, to the pulse point on your neck and back up.

“Merde, bella. What’s gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining.”

“You’re perfect, Theo.” You smiled, leaning up to steal more kisses from his lips that he was happy to reciprocate, “You’re perfect, your kisses are perfect. I knew it was me, not you. I was the problem.”

“A problem I gave you,” He groaned, his hips rolling against your own as you giggled breathlessly.

“Yeah, whatever. Now we’re quitting together. That’s the promise we made, we do everything together, right?”

“Damn right, tesoro.” He growled, teeth nipping at the underside of your jaw, as he began to make his way down your body. Your fingers were loose in his hair, settling back in the pillows, eyes slipping closed as he kissed along the insides of your thighs, teasingly. Finally, your body could relax, no longer tense and buzzing, but the foggy comfort of the night made your muscles ease into the bed, your body feeling heavy, and you sighed in bliss.

Theo mumbled something, and you let your legs fall a little further apart, but your grip on consciousness was falling further and further away as the nicotine coursed through your body, finally letting you ease into sleep you’d missed for days.

“Bella,” Theo said, his voice sharper, and you stirred, working hard to force your eyes open, but they’d only made it halfway. His hair was ruffled, eyes wide and lips swollen, but his smirk melted away from his face into a tender smile as he looked down at you.

“Sorry, what’d you say, baby?” The words slurred out of you, and he chuckled. His fingers unhooked from the sides of your shorts, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead. “M’sorry, I’m so sleepy all of a sudden.”

“S’okay, bella. Never apologise. C’mere, let’s just cuddle.”

Tucking your body into his, you shuffled your hips back into him, and he threw his leg over yours as he held you tight to his body. “You’re hard.”

“It’ll go down, don’t worry.” He snickered, kissing the back of your head. “S’your fault anyway.”

“Sorry…” You whispered, again, sleepily. “I’ll make it up t’you t’morrow.”

“Go to sleep, amore.”

But you’d already drifted off.

It was just as you were closing your History of Magic book, that Theo announced his presence in the common room as he walked in alongside Mattheo. They were loud, and raucous, and thankfully, you were less inclined to bite their heads off for it today.

In fact, alongside Enzo, you’d been able to catch up on all of the History homework you’d been missing out on for the last week or so, getting you back on track for at least one of your subjects.

“Patch change time, bella!” Theo announced, making his way over to you as he untucked his shirt and began to undo the buttons down the front. Tugging the tie out of the way, he crashed down ungracefully onto the couch beside you, Mattheo nudging Draco to move up so he could sit down too.

This had become a regular part of your routine now, and you pushed the edges of his half-unbuttoned shirt aside to reveal the patch sitting on the middle of his left pectoral. Picking at one corner, you peeled it away gently, careful not to tug on his skin as you did, and Theo watched on adoringly in silence as you took care of him. Unwrapping a new patch, you brushed off the spot, before sticking a new patch onto him and smoothing down the bandage.

He patted it himself, before doing a couple of the buttons on his shirt back up for modesty, as though he hadn't already given half of the common room a show, before he leaned in to peck your lips. His fingers fell to the buttons of your shirt, and he began to undo them slowly. “Your turn.”

He undid just enough to reveal your shoulder, without letting anyone else catch a glimpse of anything underneath, and as he leaned down to begin peeling away the old patch, you caught Enzo’s confused expression.

“Why are you wearing a patch?” He asked, and Theo laughed to himself quietly as he changed your old one out.

“Because loverboy here got me addicted too, through kisses and secondary smoke.”

The others burst out laughing, unfettered by your glaring as they made kissy sounds and crude remarks, while Theo buttoned your shirt back up. Your glare turned to him as you caught sight of his smile, and he shrugged, a lopsided smile on his lips. “What can I say, bella? I’m just that good.”

“Oh, shut it,” You smacked his chest, and he took your hand, tugging you forward to cuddle you into his chest as he kissed your temple.

“I happen to think it’s adorable that as a by-product of how you got addicted, that means you were addicted to me.”

“Mhmm.” Your eyes rolled, and he squeezed you even tighter.

“You had me addicted to you without any substances at all, bella. Just you.”

“Alright,” You scoff, “Stop sweet-talking me.”

“Never.”

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott/reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott/you #theo nott #slytherin boys #harry potter #theo nott x reader #theo nott/reader #theo nott x you #theo nott/you #lorenzo zurzolo #lorenzo zurzolo x you

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 16 days ago

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I love your work, could you please write a viktor x reader who takes care of him. like makes sure he eats, they make baked goods for him or make him go to bed in time. I think it would be cute

Heyo! Sure I can, even if it’s been a while since I wrote for Viktor (or anything) lmao

Caretaker!Reader

Viktor takes well enough care of himself, to his own standards

So we all know he can use a little more help and a little helping hand

I think Viktor is pretty independent so it takes a lot out of him to even be able to do this kind of intimate thing with you

If he does, it takes a lot of vulnerability as you would see him at his lowest

There have been times where he probably refused and would try and get out of any situation where you found out he needed help and to be taken care of

He doesn’t want to bother you or anything when he deems it able to be done by himself

It takes a while for him to be comfortable enough with you and your relationship to let himself be vulnerable in that way

As he has never done this kind of thing with anyone else before

But once it happens, trust me, you’re golden

I think he does like sweets and baked goods, so to have you bring him any on a whim and not because you have to, but because you care warms his heart absolutely

He often forgets to take care of himself and his basic needs, like eating and stuff like that for his experiments and research

So he relies on you for that a little bit once he knows you will always be there for him

He loves when you cook or bake for him and knowing it’s so he knows he’s taken care of makes each bite better than the last

At first when you attempted to get him on some sort of decent sleep schedule, he resisted

He went to bed whenever, or whenever his research was done or he passed out and often it was in the lab or at his desk or in the middle of his studying at the table

SOO you would often have to bring him to bed yourself

Once you wore him down enough, he acted like you won

You thought you did until you found out he was just waiting till you fell asleep and slipped out off bed, and slipped back in just before you woke up and pretended to wake up beside you

You had to scold him probably, or it was some sort of argument

He realized you just wanted him to be healthy, and for him to be well rested

Reluctantly, he began going to sleep with you and waking up beside you in the mornings

He found he actually did like this habit because sleeping beside you was surprisingly comforting

He loved hearing your breathing pattern as you fell asleep, and it helped him fall asleep to hear and feel your heart beating as you both snuggled to sleep

And he loved watching you wake up slowly in the mornings

It was all worth it

One thing he was very stubborn about you not doing was taking care of his leg I think

Probably because he feels as his sort of disability is a bother enough, he doesn’t want you to be burdened with it

He probably thinks that if you see that part of him, you’ll think he’s not worth it and leave

And that’s not the case

He only finds out on a particularly harsh day when it hurt so bad, and it was so sore all he could do was want to fall asleep and alleviate the pain by any means

You maybe kissed his leg, maybe rubbed out the pain, maybe helped him in any way

But as you did it, he loved the feeling and could only watch you do so and the warm feeling in his chest never left

So, on the hard days, he would drop subtle hints that he wanted to be taken care of

Like subtly saying “oh, it just hurts, I have no clue how to fix it…” and wait for you to offer to rub it

I feel he likes being babied a little bit, but not to much

He doesn’t like being treated as glass or like he is incompetent

But he does love being taken care of by you

Be it food, tending to him or showering or making sure he is fed and clean

He loves showering with you

He loves having you wash his hair and the feelings of your hand in it or feeling you lather the soap on him while he just gets to relax and close his eyes and know your there

And that he’s able to soak in all the love

Obviously he returns it all in his own way but

It’s just all the love you pour in

#arcane viktor x you #arcane x reader #arcane #viktor x y/n #arcane viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x you #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #viktor arcane #viktor league of legends #arcane imagines #arcane headcanon #arcane reader

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yanderenightmare · 5 months ago

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Gojo Satoru

TW: nsfw, noncon, yandere, somnophilia, unconsciousnes due to drinking

fem reader

Thinking about a love-sick but scummy Gojo and his cute kohai—how you don’t usually drink and how he has to carry you to his dorm when you start to hang on the walls of the graduation party. It’s been his last year, and he can’t believe he won’t be able to see your pretty face every day moving forward.

“This is fine, right?” he asks softly, laying you down on his bed. His breath thickens while looking down at you—so cute—all sound asleep.

You really shouldn’t be a sorcerer. Curses and curse users and other sorcerers the like would only take advantage—they’d all want a piece. You’re a little silly, aren’t you? You know that he can’t always be there to look after you, right? Oh, they’d eat you alive without his help, you know that, don’t you?

He’d kill anything, anyone, and everyone if something ever happened to your cute little face.

He straddles you, lifting your skirt carefully—so slow and silently, in reverence—like he’s lifting a wedding veil, uncovering your cute cotton undies. His tall form sags forward at the sight—blushy cheeks dusted with dew, looking down at you with half-mast misty eyes.

So cute, so cute, so cute. He should give you his babies. That would keep you home and out of harm’s way—soft and safe behind lock and key and a thousand seals, both keeping others out and you in. Oh fuck—what a good idea. You’d look so right all round with his kid.

He’s already pealing down your underwear. Bearing your pretty little cunt to his searing blue eyes—gleamingly bright with want.

So so so cute!

His pale and slender fingers can’t help but reach out and touch at once—though carefully—sliding his fingertips through your slit.

“Aw~ you’re so wet~” he awes in endeared glee, already catching your hole and slipping one of his digits in. He all but cries over how snug you are. He knew you were a virgin, but to toy with it in grasp, to feel it wrap around his finger all so tightly, was almost too much for him to handle.

“You were acting so shy earlier—so coy,” he continues. “But my six-eyes saw it anyway, plain as day…” Pumping you on his digit, he watches you curl in your drunken sleep—a pretty little moan leaving you all so softly. It makes him giggle with delight. “You’ve wanted me all along, haven’t you?”

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

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matchamiko · 8 months ago

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₊˚⊹ ᰔ Lucky Undies

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Warnings: oral sex ( f -> receiving) m.masturbation, mentions height difference (reader implied shorter than Aizawa), reader implied big belly, thighs + ass (ie. not skinny), prev. established relationship, sooooo self-indulgent don’t look at me

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Note: disgusted with myself honestly.

“What are those?”

You stop in your tracks, toothbrush lodged in your cheek and foam threatening to drip down your chin.

Aizawa stands behind you in the bathroom doorway, eyes trained dark on the tug of your sleep shirt over your ass. Spitting into the skin, bending lower and offering more of a view, you finish washing your mouth with heat all over your face,

“I didn’t have anything else clean, s’all I got,” you explain yourself, eyes connecting with his in the mirror,

“And they’re your last resort because?” Arms folded over his broad chest sprayed with dark hair, Aizawa cocks his hip against the doorway, eyes never leaving the peak of your asscheek from beneath the t-shirt. It’s his and it’s soft and he offered it to you on your first sleepover years ago, a little tighter round the middle now but still long enough to pass as a nightie.

“They don’t fit!” You resort with embarrassment, “they pinch my hips and they go up my butt ‘nd roll down my belly if I bend down or even move,” you feel as though there’s steam hissing from your ears, suddenly regretting even putting on the offending underwear. You’d miscounted your laundry days and found yourself wearing either silky lingerie or old high legged cheeky style undies that were a very adorable baby pink and sported a little red rose at the front. Usually you wore comfortable high rise with a trusty band and often times sensible colours so to not show through your chosen trousers or skirts of the day. Maybe you’d wear a thong if you felt adventurous but comfort was key in your relationship with underwear, and being with Aizawa for so long helped you not only explore that a little bit but also enabled you to stay comfortable without judgement or ridicule.

And Aizawa liked your plain underwear, didn’t care much for it really because all he often wanted was them off or not even on in the first place. Complaining about his partners choice in underwear was beneath him; he’s a man, he’s mature and he’d much rather eat your pussy than muse over what’s covering it.

But these? He’s not seen these before.

“Cute,” he says with a gravelly voice, stalking forwards slowly, “you look cute,”

Biting your lip, you shake your head,

“I’ll just put some gym shorts on and do a quick wash, s’stupid to even try to do anything in these,” you grumble dejectedly, turning and even in your limited movements, the seam tugs over your cheek and makes you cringe.

But Aizawa is as sturdy as he is stubborn, a wall preventing you from leaving and a large hand sits heavy and inviting on your hip.

“I said you look cute,” he says pointedly, “not just the underwear, but you in general, seeing your skin makes me - desperate,”

That hand smoothes under your sleep shirt, fingering the thin, stretchy band of the panties with a heavy breath in his chest. The harder he pulls the band, the higher up your hip they go and the further up your -

“They’re just panties Shouta,” you blink up at him, leaning closer to ease his fondling, “stupid uncomfable panties that is,”

“Shh,” Aizawa kisses you quiet, a peck to keep you satisfied while his other hand drifts over to your ass, fisting the fat and spreading you meanly, “just - lemme look for a sec,”

His eyes catch the flash of your asshole in the mirror, panties caught taught and high over your ass and he groans low and deep from his belly. You clear your throat and whimper when he buries his face into your neck, teeth scraping the delicate skin there. Then - his hand rounds to your stomach, fiddling with the little silky rose before tickling the exposed skin of your belly from where the panties had dislodged and folded down.

He doesn’t often explore you this selfishly, having listened to your qualms and insecurities over your body, doing it to prove that no weight could distance him from desiring your body. But he touches you with a filthy selfish agenda and filthier moans.

Thick fingers tease you over the fabric, slippery with your arousal, sliding between your folds and circling your clit with loud little click. It’s shameful how turned on you are at his exploration of your underwear, but he’s no better; hard and heavy and leaking against your hip. ‘Nd when you look down, mewling at the thick forearm jammed between your cushiony thighs, you can see the flushed tip of his cock peaking from the sagging waistband of his underwear, black and tight and baring a hole just above the seam on his thigh.

And suddenly you understand exactly how Aizawa feels with you in underwear he’s never seen before. Because those are boxers you bought him three christmases ago and are also a result of not doing laundry often enough. And when you look up at him with your hand squeezing him through the thin fabric; your shameful desperation is reflected in his eyes.

All too suddenly, Aizawa is on his knees and your lower back is cradled uncomfortably against the bathroom counter, and he’s all up between your thighs with devastating groans and grunts.

“Taste’s fuckin’ divine,” his tongue is hot and so wet against the gusset of your underwear, pulled tight over your cunt and practically frothing with how aroused you are. One hand cups your ass and spreads you, the other is crude and sharply tugging on his cock. At the taste of you. At the smell of you. Nipping your clit through the fabric and sucking hard enough to send you shuddering and shaking right down to your toes.

“Shouta ! S’too much !” You grip the top of his head, hair tangled from sleep but the tugging of the knots seem to encourage him, groaning into your cunt and huffing deep agonising breaths against your pubis. You’re on your tiptoes, one leg lifting a little even to give him space and Aizawa shuffles closer on his knees, haphazardly throwing your leg over his broad, sinewy shoulder.

It’s almost like the sensations are muted, dulled through the thin fabric of your panties. But they’re still there and you fumble with your shirt for a moment before lifting it and tucking the hem beneath your chin so you can look down, down at your boyfriend so eagerly and so messily slurping at your pussy.

He’s feral like this, eyes fluttering and nose pressed hard into your clit, tongue trying to rip through into you but failing miserably. Or not, as it seems that wasn’t his goal, simply content with tasting you through the panties that had entrapped him so suddenly. You couldn’t even feel confused and weird at his random bout of arousal over your too-small panties, too thrummed with pleasure and the shivers of an orgasm to really deep dive it.

It rears its head slowly, but with a strength you’d yet to experience before. All suction and desperate licks, moans and grunts vibrating you just enough to send you jerking into his mouth. Hips moving on their own, tits falling from the grasp of your shirt and shuddering with your movements. Your underwear slips and tugs harshly as you grind through your orgasm, pulled taught only by Aizawa’s insistent tongue and fingers. He seemed to have given up on his own pleasure, or got enough from watching and tasting you, both hands clutching your thighs around his head.

“Let up, oh my god, give me a sec Shouta,” you’re still panting hard, limbs boneless and belly throbbing with every aftershock, cunt fluttering against the sodden and stained panties, “you’re such a - now I really don’t have anything to wear today,”

Your words die from a telling off to a small sigh at the sight of him, drunk on the sight and taste of you. His eyes are heavy, mouth open and shining with your spend, cheeks flushed and chest heaving,

“Good news for me then,” he stands with a grunt, coming in close enough for you to smell the remnants of your orgasm on his lower face - but he doesn’t kiss you. Instead massaging your hips and the tangled band of your underwear, “I’m having you on my face next, ‘nd keep these on,”

He’s a pervert really, snapping the band and making you tut in disapproval. But as you follow him into the bedroom with a sheepish grin and nervous lust building in your chest; you realise you are too, for letting him indulge in this and letting him.

#I lied I wrote this sorry I got weird about my undies earlier #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta smut #aizawa x reader #Aizawa smut #bnha smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha smut #miko.writes #this is so bad I’m so sorry

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wonryllis · 8 months ago

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⠀⠀⠀⠀[⠀谷. ) ᨓ ENHYPEN ADMIRING THEIR 𝒢IRL !

. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖻𝖺𝖽.

﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ enhypen lovesick over the simple things you do. fem!r. fluff, and so soft. wordcount` 635. アーカイブ ACHRIVE?

PLS REBLOG!!!!

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 when you're talking; the way your lips move and the way your voice sounds, these are two things lee heeseung could never get over. he just cannot help but fix his eyes on your mouth shaping letters, so lost and so dazed. you might think he's not listening to exactly what you are speaking of but no, he is. every word and every tone behind it, the most interesting thing in the world. in his world full of everything about you.

"yes baby, i'm always listening, i love to."

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 when you're eating; the little expressions you make and the tiny little sounds that leave you are heaven for him. he could live his entire life making you what you love to eat and sit infront of you to watch you stuff your face full of it. the way sometimes you'd smear some on your cheeks or your lips and just wait, leaving it for him to wipe it away with his thumb or kiss it off because you just love it so much everytime he does it.

"you're so cute, i could watch you forever,"

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 when you're tying up your hair; the hottest thing you could ever do is put your hairtie between your lips and tilt your head back to gather your hair in a pony, neck stretched and inviting. it is a sight on paradise and jake swears he'll die a thousand times to see it. in a trance he is trapped and helpless watching you seduce him every single time and then squeal away when he leaves a little peck at the base of your neck.

"fuck can you do that again, please?"

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 when you're putting on makeup; he absolutely loves sitting around and watching you doll up, or just see your fingers glide against your face like a creep. taking out his phone to click cute candids of you curling your hair, putting on ribbons and braids or record little videos of you putting on your lipgloss, zooming in on the applicator gliding against the plump of your lips, making it look shiny and so so kissable. he goes crazy.

"is it cherry? lemme give you a kiss, pretty,"

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗪𝗢𝗢 when you're laughing; the sound of your laughter, the little giggles and the big snorts, sunoo is in badshit love with everything. he lives to make you so happy you cannot think about anything but laughing your lungs out at something funny or giggling to hide the sweetness and shyness you feel at his words. to see your eyes light up, your smile turning into tiny sounds of excitement sunoo can never move on.

"the sound of your happiness is my favorite thing,"

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 when you're asleep; the vulnerability and softness your features hold when you are passed out makes him feel so giddy, jungwon just cannot stop staring at how cute and peaceful you look. the little snores you let out are his favorite thing in the world. your hair falling over your eyes and lips, breath dulcet and cozy. he loves tucking the strands away, grazing your cheeks and leaving fleeting kisses all over, pulling you closer to him.

"how do you look so pretty even when you're sleeping?"

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 when you're checking out your outfit; putting on different dresses and twirling around in front of the mirror (and him), stopping to check your reflection in store windows and mirrors, riki does not know or understand why he feels so insane in love watching you do all that but he knows he looks at you all gogo gaga when you do it. sitting on the bed and helping you decide which outfit you look better in while his mind is all fuzzy.

"you look like a princess, my pretty princess."

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @ro-diaries @ms-no1kpopstan

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cursingtoji · 29 days ago

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cw: band au, rockstar!geto x groupie!gf, slight manipulation?, car sex, oral. a/n: geto deserves a loser gf too. gojo version nanami version

geto who has a rock band and though they’re quite small they already have a #1 fan: you.

the band is all you talk about, going to the point of making your own shirts and posters, you doodle the bands logo everywhere and, most importantly you don't miss a single concert.

by the end of it you're waiting next to the back door of the pub when the band comes out, as soon as you see suguru you call his name extending your little gift bag.

"woah for me? thanks, doll." he takes your chin and gives your glossy lips a peck that makes your heartbeat spike up and your face warm up. geto fucking suguru just kissed you!

during all that week you were on cloud nine, so distracted and giggly.

of course geto notices you, always in the front row and ready to give the band some gifts, he sees how you try to dress up as one of them before they even realize they have a visual identity.

geto likes having fangirls, if anything that’s the best sign that the band is doing well. till that point he never considered engaging to one in a more intimate level. after all, women were never a problem for him, fans or not.

the problem is when they think more of the relationship than it really is. geto has always made sure they knew that sleeping together and treating them well was not synonymous to committed relationship.

because he already is committed. to his music. so after spending the whole day trying to come up with a new song so the band may finally have a complete album to present to a record, he takes a frustrated break picking up his phone and to his dismay only finding a long message about how he hurt someone’s feelings.

“oh for fucks sake” he lets his phone fall on the couch and take his keys, this is not a good week to quit smoking.

“geto?” he hears a small voice calling him after he leaves the convenience store with a very much needed cigarette on his lips and nicotine in his system.

“oh hey” he recognizes you by name and face.

“you’re using the lighter” you point out enthusiastically, that was a limited edition you bought and gifted him.

“that’s right, you bought me this, did i say thank you?” he’s genuinely wondering, your face heats remembering the kiss.

“i-its no big deal” you brush it off, since he doesn’t seem to be in a rush you start to babble about one specific song and everything you loved about it, knowing he was the composer.

“do wanna go to my place?” he says after quietly listening to your passionate thoughts. you think steam is about to come out of your ears at how hot your face got.

geto throws away what’s left of his cigarette and takes your hand, not really waiting for a response since the heart in your eyes is pretty obvious.

“you’re so cute” he says with his face mushed into your breasts as he guides your movements on his lap. you never guessed when you came out this morning you would be riding your favorite guitarist’s dick a few hours later, if you knew you probably would’ve put a sexier lingerie. not that he would care, by the way he pushed your bottoms down all at once he probably didn’t even know what color your underwear was.

geto pulled your hair tilting your head to meet his mouth, he devoured you so intensely, so overwhelming… you came not even needing your clit to be touched, just by having him inside you and breathing into your mouth like that was enough.

for suguru it was all a power trip, when he saw you after a concert he knew it wouldn’t take you much sweet talking to get you in his car.

he quickly mumbled an excuse to meet the band at the bar later and in just a few minutes he had you bobbing your head down his cock, “just like that, gorgeous, so good” his head is thrown back as he moans softly.

and as the band grew more popular and they had to travel to other cities to perform he would always count on you to meet him at his hotel room.

“geto~” you mewl his name as he eats your pussy from behind so lewdly.

from the very first time you knew it was over for every other guy the moment he touched you. no matter what anyone said about geto, that he was using you, he would never marry you, you didn’t care. you would be his devotee as long as he wanted.

and geto got all he wanted, a pretty little thing that didn’t complain or asked too many questions and best of all: that loved his music and understood his work.

“i know, you have to practice” you kiss him one last time before gathering your clothing from the floor, the hints of him not wanting to stay over were all memorized at this point, so you turn your back at him and make your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

but the usual sound of the door opening and closing never came, instead you saw him coming from behind to lace strong arms around your waist, “well maybe just tonight” he smells your hair and through the mirror he sees the tattoo bellow your belly button, just above the hem of your underwear. your prof of love: the logo of the band.

geto touches it and you giggle at the feathery feeling, like a tickle, he likes that sound. he likes you.

“i was thinking you should get another, right here” a finger caress your right ass cheek.

“the same one?” you ask confused.

“no, silly, something else” he gets down hands caressing your hips and kissing the extension of your butt, “my name.”

#geto x reader #loser!gf #jjk x reader

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ba9go · 3 months ago

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(nsfw) bakugou katsuki finds you annoying (you drive him crazy)

mdni 🔞 katsuki being down bad for reader. heavy petting with a lot of sexual tension! 🫢

can be read with part 1 and part 2, or as a standalone too

after coming to terms with his feelings for you, bakugou thought that things would get simpler for him.

he was wrong. very wrong.

the two of you started spending more and more time together. eating lunch together, visiting each other's room after school, going to the gym together.

at some point, bakugou became "katsuki" to you.

"kat-su-ki," you said slowly, dragging his name out as if every syllable was meant to irk him. bakugou freezes, sitting cross-legged in front of you on your bed.

"katsuki." you repeat, watching him carefully with a small, tentative smile that makes his palms annoyingly sweaty. "is that okay?"

"yeah." bakugou, no, katsuki, clears his throat, and runs a hand through his hair. "katsuki's fine."

you ask katsuki to spend the night in your dorm room, and though katsuki disagrees with you calling it a sleepover (to him, it's not a sleepover unless there are face masks and pillow fights involved, but he's not telling you that) katsuki finds it hard to say no to you.

later, you fall asleep in his arms, breathing softly against his chest, and katsuki thinks he's going to die from how hard his heart is beating against his ribcage.

he stares into the darkness and tries to fall asleep, but all he can think about is how soft you feel against his body and the way your warm breath gave him goosebumps when you whispered "goodnight, katsuki" into his neck.

katsuki thinks you’ve ruined his own name for him, because now he doesn’t want to hear it unless it’s coming from you. and god, the things he would do to hear you say his name, over and over and over again.

katsuki wants to. he wants so badly, to make you say his name over and over again, and he thinks it would be so easy to do too. you’re easy to fluster, easy to tease. katsuki wants to make you come apart at his touch, under him. katsuki wants to take you, piece by piece, wants to watch the way you unravel before him.

it gets worse when you started stealing katsuki’s shirts.

katsuki’s heart damn near burst when he came back to his room after the gym to see you cuddled up in his bed, completely engulfed in one of his shirts. he closed the door behind him quietly and stared at your peaceful sleeping face. ‘this must be what cuteness aggression feels like’, katsuki thinks, as he’s hit with the sudden urge to reach over and bite your face off.

he feels stupid, sneaking around in his own room as he tries his best not to wake you and fails miserably. he freezes as you stir awake, sitting up in his bed. your hair is sticking out in ways that katsuki wants to make fun of you for, but he’s too transfixed on the little yawn you let out as you stretch like a content house cat on his bed.

��katsuki,” you murmur, rubbing your eyes groggily. you smile at katsuki and it’s so sleepy and a little droopy and it drives katsuki fucking crazy, and you don’t even know it. god, you piss him off.

“you’re back,” you say sweetly. “you gonna shower?”

“i should shower,” katsuki responds, but makes no move to prepare for said shower. instead, he walks over to his bed, to you, and you open your arms invitingly and how could katsuki ever deny you?

he lets you wrap your arms around his torso and bury your face into his chest. he’s still sweaty from working out, but here you are, nuzzling into his shirt, again like a damn cat that’s all too affectionate. you hum happily when katsuki pats your head.

“you smell so good,” you moan the words into his shirt. it’s innocent, but it drives katsuki insane all the same. he can never think straight when it comes to you, not when you’re all he can think about. his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and he never knows what to do with himself.

“i’m dirty,” katsuki’s throat is so dry when he chokes out the words.

“so?” you giggle as you look up at him with big, happy eyes, and katsuki is fully reduced to putty in your hands. he’s wrapped around your pretty little finger. “i like it when you’re dirty.”

“yeah?” katsuki lets his hand fall to your neck. he holds your neck gently, barely even squeezing, but the effect it has on you is instantaneous. you become almost limp in his hold, eyes half-lidded as you let out a shaky sigh from your parted lips.

“‘suki,” you whisper. “come here,” you say, but you already have him in your arms, so katsuki presses his lips against yours instead.

katsuki never really knows what to do when it comes to you; he just knows how much he wants you, how you drive him crazy with want, so he listens to those desires until he has you moaning into his mouth when he sucks on your tongue, until he has you rutting your hips back and forth when he slips a leg between your thighs, until he has you coming apart the way he’s always fantasised.

“thank you, ‘suki,” you sound so pretty breathless and it makes katsuki want to steal your breath away even more. “feels so good.” katsuki realises that you’re still grinding against him and it’s so, so adorable.

“yer so annoyin’,” katsuki scolds you lightly, but the smirk on his face is anything but annoyed as he slips a hand between your legs and touches you properly, right where you need it most.

it’s so fucking annoying, the way you drive him insane, but watching you twitch and writhe under him, listening to you beg and moan, so pretty and needy for him, katsuki thinks it’s not so bad, being batshit crazy for you.

maybe part 4. i need to write a bratty yn who loves talking smack just to piss kats off so he’ll fuck em harder 🤪🤪

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @valeriyaaak @v3n7s @deimosjay @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh @dreamcastgirl99 @busdriver-move-that-ass @atashiboba @kathsuhki @armeenix @channnee @antiwhores @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @kenqki @vikizzy @thesimpybitch @eempxth @hanta-seros-wifey @itztaki @thekidscallmebosss

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #bnha imagines #bakugou headcanons #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki smut #bnha bakugou katsuki #bakugou smut #bakugou x you #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki smut

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wallflowergirl2006 · 3 months ago

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Rattlesnake Hybrid x Fem Chubby Bunny Hybrid Reader

Banner by ♥︎ taebokkiii on Pinterest

CW: None

Okay so originally he was going to eat you, like he would fatten you up and until you were ripe enough and then he would devour you.

You were hiding in a tree from some wolf hybrids who wanted to eat you and he happened to be in the same tree you were in. He caught you off guard and wrapped his tail around you like a vice keeping you trapped. He saw you as an easy target and he took you to his den and made sure that there was nowhere you could run. He kept you right where he wanted you.

You’ve tried to escape him a few times before but hearing the rattle sound of his tail instantly made you freeze in place and you moved away from the exit and away from freedom. At night he would keep you close to him in order to make sure you didn’t run away in the night.

But after a while of having you by his side his original plan of eating you was tossed aside when he saw just how cute you were. They way your tears rolled down your chubby cheeks when you were afraid or sad, how your cute little bunny ears mimic the adorable expressions you made, or when your tail wagged when you were happy or excited and the way you flopped down on your back or side when you were exhausted.

God, he thought you the most adorable thing in the world. He was like, “How could I eat such a cute little thing.” So he kept you but instead of viewing you as a source of food he now saw you as more of a companion or a friend.

A few months pass and he now feels all these weird feelings towards you. Like when he’s near you he feels warmth spread in his chest and his face, his tail slightly wags on the ground when you smile or laugh with him, and sometimes he catches himself staring at you in a yearning kinda way.

It finally clicks one night when he sleeps with you. He can’t help but feel embarrassed and worried. Would you feel the same if he confessed his feelings or would you run away in disgust. He didn’t know and the thought of you leaving him terrified him.

He looks down at your sleeping form and he can’t help but admire your body. Your soft round cheeks that look adorable when you puff them out in annoyance when he teases you, your cute round tummy that poked out through your clothes, your thighs that seem to always be soft and doughy-like and your plump and soft lips that look so kissable.

He watches as your chest rises and falls with every soft breath you take. He has to suppress the urge to kiss you but ultimately fails as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you until you're flushed against his chest.

Eventually he talks in the morning about his ever growing feelings towards you. He’s expecting to be met with fear and disgust but instead he feels your warm hand wrap around his slightly colder one. You talked about how you feel the same way about him.

The look of innocence and sweetness makes him want to protect and mate with you right then and there but he holds back for you. He didn’t want to rush you into something you didn’t feel comfortable with.

He feels so relieved and happy to have such a cute little mate like you. He started pressing kisses all over your cute round face. He smiles as he hears you giggle and laugh from his action. He pulls away and pulls your body close to his, he looks into your eyes seeing only happiness and adoration. He takes your hand and presses a kiss to it.

“I promise to protect you and also be a good mate.” He whispers against your hand. He feels your cotton tail wagging and smiles. He looks up and sees your bashful smile which makes his smile widen even more.

♡ 🐍Now you have one loving and loyal snake boy ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Art by ♡ Fluffysheeps ♡

#Snake hybrid x Reader #monster lover #snake hybrid #monster fudger #fem reader #female reader #reader insert #x reader #chubby!reader #chubby reader #fat reader #monster fic #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #bunny hybrid #monster imagine #snake hybrid x reader

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slushycoookie · 3 months ago

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I Like Your Dress ~ Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

✩ Word Count: 2.7k

✩ Content: Logan goes crazy over your dress, Domino shows up (I miss her so bad), cream pie is mentioned A LOT, Wade breaks the 4th wall, P in V, Logan does NOT wrap it up this time, MINORS DNI!!

✩ A/N: Reader is the same reader as the one shot I wrote. You don't have to read that one, I don't go into much detail but if you guys want to read that one, read it here

Masterlist | Commissions

The fresh smell of food made Logan awake from his slumber.

Sleepily searching for you on your side of the bed, only to discover that you weren't there. Having a sudden burst of energy, Logan got out of bed to find you. He didn’t need to go far when sees you wiggling your hips at the stove, stirring a pot.

“Hey.”

You look behind you when hearing his voice, “Hi!”

Logan pulls you close as you greet him with good morning kisses. Well, afternoon after checking the time.

“How did you sleep? I let you sleep in a little bit, you were so tired from that mission last night.”

Logan smiles, “I slept alright.”

He sees the multitude of ingredients on the counter and remembers what they're were for. Wade was throwing a potluck since Domino was coming back from a month long mission. Of course, he invited you two and you were so excited. Logan was neutral. He would've preferred to stay in bed with you all day.

You said you were making a few things, but the amount of ingredients you had made him wonder. “How many people are you planning to feed?”

“Enough.” You said, going back to your pot, which he found out was pasta. “Colossus and Peter will be there. We both know how much they like to eat.”

“Don’t push yourself.” His tone was rough but you knew it was his way of caring.

“I won't.”

Logan grabbed himself an afternoon shot of bourbon before excusing himself to get ready. Trying to prepare himself for socializing and dealing with Wade.

When he came back clean and not as rugged, you were finishing up, putting white icing on the strawberry cake. Logan swiped his finger on the cake and licked it, cream cheese on his tongue.

“That’s good.”

“Don’t lick it anymore.” You lightly threaten, smacking his hand away. “Save it for the party.”

“Fine.” Logan kisses your cheek and stands behind you to watch you finish icing the cake. In your beautiful handwriting ‘Welcome back, Domino’ in pink icing. “Would ya look at that? You should be on those baking shows.”

“Nuh uh, I'm okay with just watching videos.”

Once you were finished, he helped you place the cake in the dome, ready to go with the rest of the food. You gave him an order to not eat any of it before you ran into the bathroom to get ready. Logan gave you about five minutes before inspecting the tins. He smiled when he saw you only made a few items, a large tray of pasta salad and spinach dip. Just to make sure it wasn't poisoned, he took a swipe of each, humming at how good it tasted.

He knew you were going to be a while so he opened a window, grabbed a cigar and lounged to smoke. Logan knew you didn't like it when he smoked in the apartment, but said it was okay as long as he let in some fresh air after.

As usual, you took almost a hour getting ready, but it was well worth the wait.

When you stepped out of the room, Logan started coughing, blowing smoke out the window to make sure a lot didn't linger. His eyes trailed your outfit, a tie dye colored maxi dress with thin straps, and cute, brown sandals to match. Logan didn't care when you scolded him for obviously taking a bite of your pasta salad. His breath was stolen away.

“I like your dress.”

“You're changing the subject, but thanks.”

He steps in front of you, eyes lowered as he kept gazing at your form. The dress hugging your body while still being appropriate. Logan's hand rests on your ass cheek, giving it a firm squeeze.

“I really like your dress.”

You avoid his lustful gaze, “Don’t you start.”

“Start what?” He steals a kiss from you, careful not to mess up your lipstick. “I can't compliment my lady?”

“You can compliment me by using your words.”

“It's not as fun that way.” He dips his head between your neck to smell you. You weren't wearing any perfume this time, but the honey scent from your lotion was enough to complete the entire package. Logan growls, squeezing your ass some more and making you giggle.

“We should go, I don't wanna be late.”

“We won't. I swear.” His hand cups the nape of your neck, putting it back so he could kiss you some more. Parting your lips to dive his tongue right in. Your moans spurring him on.

It didn't last long though.

“Logan.” You gently push him away, “We will have some time later.”

He sucked his teeth before grabbing all of the food you made.

Logan remained a scowling mess when you two arrived for the potluck.

You were the more social one out of the relationship, so you immediately flocked to the crowd who welcomed you with open arms. Even Domino, despite that this was the first time you two saw each other. Logan makes his usual rounds of saying hi before picking a corner with a drink in his hand and observing.

It was his way of enjoying himself without being easily annoyed and overwhelmed by the sheer number of people in the apartment. Best of all, he could watch you socialize. Your face lighting up at the conversations while that gorgeous dress clung to your body. Logan always likes to admire you in your element, but you wearing that dress was more than enough to make him want to do things to you. His hands involuntary flexed at the idea of feeling your body through the dress.

“There’s my grumpy kitty!” Domino says to Logan, who scowled at her, but there was no malice behind it.

“Hey, Dom.”

“Wade told me that your hair was getting better and now I see why.” She motions to you talking to Peter about him getting highlights. Logan's lips curl upwards again at the sight of you. “She's cute.”

“Thanks. I heard she scheduled you an appointment?”

Domino nods, “Gonna try something new. This is getting stale.” She motions to her afro.

“Don’t you dare change it.” Wade joins in, pointing at her. “You know how I feel about change.”

“Aww.” Domino pinches his cheek, “We all gotta grow up sometime.”

“You know who you're talking to right?” Logan comments under his drink.

“Your afro was one of the reasons you were so likeable in the second movie. Now what do we have, a woman with luck powers? I still don't believe that's a thing, by the way.”

Domino shakes her head at the audacity of it all, “I missed you too.”

She excuses herself, leaving Logan and Wade together. The latter started getting a little giddy, cradling his cup, while shooting multiple glances. Logan promised you that he was going to play nice during the party and not get easily annoyed at Wade.

“What?”

“We’re having cream pie.” Wade mentions, “Do you wanna know what flavor it is?”

Logan holds back an eyeroll, “Sure.”

“It's boston cream pie. I know we have a lot of sweet things considering we also have the cake your lady made, but I really wanted some. Actually, it's been a while since you've had cream pie, right?”

“I guess.”

“Oh you'll enjoy this one. You have a bit of a sweet tooth.” There was a moment of silence between them as they watched everyone enjoy themselves. You were getting many compliments on your food, asking for the recipes to make at home. “ Vanessa and I are huge fans of cream pie. Does your lovely lady like it too?”

Logan glared at him for a second before thinking about the question, “I think so.”

“Has she had it in a while?”

“No.”

“I think she'll be very happy when she gets some-”

“Why…in the fuck do you keep talking about the damn cream pie?” He feels a slight headache coming on.

Wade shrugs before taking a sip of his drink. “I can't like pie?”

Logan growls, ready to toss him out the apartment when you inadvertently save Wade, walking over with a huge smile on your face.

“Hi.”

“Hey, sugar.”

You embrace him with arms around his neck. Your lips kissing his cheek, taking in the aftershave.

“Hi Wade.”

“Hi. Your grumpy boyfriend and I were just talking about cream pie. Do you know we're having pie later?”

Logan felt his eye twitch at the question, his hand on your hip to keep himself from punching Wade.

“No, I didn’t!” Your eyes light up, “What kind of pie?”

“Boston cream. One of the best pies in the world, I should say.”

“Ooh, you know what, I haven’t had cream pie in a long time.”

“Oh really?” Wade tilts his head a little, while you nod. “Well, obviously you gotta have some. I think you'll enjoy it. The author knows what I'm talking about.”

And just like that, he's gone.

Logan didn't want to acknowledge whatever that was so he pulls you amongst his body. The most handy you'll ever allow him to be in public.

“We should go.” He whispers in your ear.

“Hm? We've only been here for two hours.”

That was enough, he wanted to say. Everytime he focuses on you and that dress, he wants to forget behaving and take you back home to lavish on you all night. For those two hours, Logan was trying to keep his thoughts pure enough to get a raging hard on. He didn't know how long he could last.

“Just hang in there a bit longer, okay?” You give him a kiss for encouragement. Logan takes in the imprint of your lips as you go back to socialize. No, he wasn't going to make it.

He hangs on when everyone sits around the table, laughing and talking. You're beside him, hand on his thigh to stabilize him and keep him in the conversation. Logan wants you to go higher, feel the impending hard on.

He needs to get you alone, show you that he was failing at behaving. There weren't a lot of places where you two wouldn't be disturbed. And he didn't want to take you outside and fuck you in an alleyway.

But God answered him.

You excused yourself, making your way to the bathroom. Logan watches you go as everyone continues talking. He gives it a minute before getting up and pretending to grab another drink. Instead, he beelines to the bathroom, standing beside the door and waits. His heartbeat in his chest.

“Who wants some cream pie?” Wade asks, everyone roaring with excitement once you finally open the door.

Logan pushes you back into the bathroom, lips immediately on yours. Your surprised gasp eggs him on while he traps your body against the wall.

“This is all your fault.” He mutters, constantly stealing kisses.

“Huh? What?” You try to keep up with him as his hands are all over your body, feeling your soft curves through the dress.

“You know what. Wearing this dress, not letting me do something to you before we came here. Torturing me.”

As he spoke, his lips were everywhere. Your face and neck. Trying to wear you down and submit.

“Torturing you? That, that wasn't my intention-oh.” His teeth latched on to your shoulder, having some self control to mark you in a place no one could see.

“I need you.” Logan starts bunching up your dress.

You try to stop him by pushing his hands down, “L-Logan? Logan, baby you didn't lock the door.”

“It's gonna be quick.” You let him bunch up your dress, seeing a glimpse of your panties, which he now sees that it's the lacey blue ones he liked. The ones you mentioned reminded you of the accent colors of his suit.

Logan's jeans were getting tight when he removed them, stuffing them in his pocket. Without saying a word, you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist. You whimpered under his lips as he was finally able to touch you while wearing the dress. Large hands molding your breasts through the fabric, still managing to locate the nipple and pinching it. His hips rolling against you, creating a nice friction against your cunt.

You were doing so good at keeping quiet for him, only managing the occasional whimper when he hit a perfect spot. Making sure you were stable on his arm, Logan reaches down to your core. His chest rumbles when he feels how wet you're getting. Sinking one digit inside while his thumb presses on your clit. Making circular motions while he was getting you ready.

“Didn’t need to do much, huh?” He said, watching you twist and turn. “You wanted this as much as I did.”

You didn't say anything but he smelled you. His finger coated in your delectable arousal. If you two weren't on a time limit, he'd reach down to get a taste.

Once you were ready, Logan maneuvers to unzip his pants. Even though you were dazed out of your mind, you remember something.

“I left my purse out there.” Your purse had condoms and knowing Logan, he didn't bring them as you insisted on being prepared in case something like this happens. But now both of you were unprepared.

“I'll get ya plan b at the store.” He continues to unzip his jeans.

“Don’t forget…”

Logan pulls his cock out with one motion, using some of your wetness for lubrication. “I won't.”

He then slips into you. You clutch on to him for dear life, your nails digging into his shirt. Curse his healing factor. He wanted to see the marks you'd leave on him.

He keeps you stable against the wall, sinking into you completely before starting to move. Quick and sharp thrusts in and out of you. Low, wet sounds filling his ears besides your shaky sobs.

“O-Oh god…”

Logan rolls his eyes back at your desperate tone, “God's not here, honey.”

His own voice comes out strained as he's fucking you. How he wants to pull your dress up further to see your breasts move. But having you like this was much hotter. Wanting you to remember that this was the dress that made him go crazy.

“Mmh Lo’…” He almost comes right there when your hand grips the nape of his neck, pulling the hairs.

Logan grunts, picking up speed, feeling some of his cum leaking out into you. His tip pressing against your cervix that was making you croon. Goosebumps forming on your skin as he hit that spot repeatedly. Making you whine and wince under him.

“Squeeze around me, sweetheart.” He commands and you do so. Your walls molding around his cock as you silently cried out. Even at the height of your pleasure, you still managed to be quiet, mouth agape and he wanted to shut those lips with his own. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

Logan wasn't far behind, pounding into you mercilessly before shooting his cum inside you. He stilled for a moment then pumped into you a few times to make sure all of his load made it inside. You capture him in another kiss, both of you sighing against each other.

Laughter nearby caused you two to come down from the high. Logan put you down, handing you your panties. He grabbed a few paper towels to make sure no cum stained his jeans. You were checking yourself out in the mirror, making sure Logan didn't mess up your makeup. He did ended up getting some on his face, which had you quickly trying to wipe it away with your thumb.

“I'm good, I'm good.” Logan reassures you before fixing his shirt. “I'll go out first.”

“Okay.” Before parting, he gave you another kiss, completely not caring if lipstick stained his lips.

The party continued as if the two of you weren't missing for the last fifteen minutes. Logan played it cool by grabbing another drink. When you came out the bathroom, you two momentarily locked eyes, before acting like nothing happened.

“Did you enjoy the cream pie?”

Logan jumps at Wade's sudden appearance, “What the fuck? How did you know that I-?”

“The pie's right there.” Wade points to the cut up pie on the kitchen counter. Logan stares at it, a bit dumbfounded. “It's good right?”

Logan's eyes land on you as you're speaking to Domino once more, “Yeah. It was good.”

Tags: @allmyn1ghts

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x black reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #x black reader #wolverine #logan howlett #wolverine x black reader

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servicpop · 5 months ago

Text

NSFW ; COFFEE AND BUNNIES vallen (oc) x bottom male reader

warnings : bunny hybrid reader !! ear pulling , eating out (a tiny bit), pet names ; baby & bunny, high libido reader, not proofread !

notes __ finally some Vallen content !! he isn't a hybrid in this fic since I can't think of what animal he should be TT

It was a lazy evening where you and Vallen were sat on his velvet couch posed infront of a big window; the soft sunset glow streaked through the curtains and into his home office. Vallen — with his reading glasses on — was sitting at the edge of the couch right were the armrest was with a book held between his fingers. His other hand was occupied with the gentle petting of your ears that were draped down the back of your head in a resting position.

It was quiet with the exception of your soft breaths as you laid snuggled up right beside him, head resting on his broad shoulder, and hands tangled in his clothing. You two had been in this position for a comfortable few hours — you had fallen asleep and Vallan didn't want to wake you up, but as of now, he had gotten bored of the book he was reading and settled it down on the armrest before turning to look at you.

"You finished sleeping, bunny?" He cooed tenderly, still petting your ears as he watched you stirr back to life. His hand slipped from your ears and down your back, sliding his fingers along your spine and all the way down until he flicked your small tail, eliciting a slight jolt from you. You shot him a pouty glare and Vallen simply chuckled from the action.

"Can you go get me some coffee please?" He asked, batting his eyelashes at you — this grown man. You sigh, your nose twitching slightly in annoyance but you get up nonetheless, stretching out your back and hearing your bones pop from how still you've been. Vallen only sits with a hand on his chin, watching your arms stretch up into the air and your tail swivel slightly. God you were too cute.

"On second thought, you can do that later," Vallen grinned, pulling you by the waist onto his lap. He was quick to lean you to the side, pressing his lips against yours as he kissed you. His tongue prodded at your lips, slipping past your teeth and tangled with your tongue. He held your chin, cradling you before he handled you to lay on the couch, slowly pushing you onto your stomach. "You're just too cute, baby," Vallen cooed, shifting so that he was basically laying on top of you, pressing you into the plush velvet cushions of the couch.

His hands moved to pet your ears, bunching them in his fists and dragging them down along your bunny ears. The faint smell of Vallen's overly pricy cologne was softly tickling your sinus' from how close he was to you. A low, grumbly but rich laughter escaped from Vallen's throat as he leaned up, pushing himself up with his arms. You could hear the jingle of his Cartier bracelet fall onto his sleek, silver Rolex. He was so filthy rich it was almost disgusting. Vallen looked down at himself and at your tail, watching it twitch against his pants, brushing against his clothed cock.

"Look at you... so eager," He sighed, "I just have to please my little bunny don't I?" A hand made its way to your pants, carefully being pulled down to your thighs, "God, I am always spoiling my boy aren't I? You're so spoilt, hm?" His sultry tone sent shivers down your spine, and Vallen could tell from the way your ears seemed to shudder. "I'm not spoilt, you choose to give me stuff and I'm not refusing," You mumble gruffly against the cushions.

You feel something wet and overly hot press against your hole and your little tail twitched out of surprise. "V—Vallen?" You exclaimed, turning your head over your shoulder to see what he was doing. Such a classy, and elegant man with his head buried in the curve of your ass, hand decorated with veins gripping at the flesh, spreading you apart as he shoved his tongue in. You flinched, your hips squirming from the weird sensation but Vallen seemed to disagree with your movements, shifting his hands to grip your hips, holding you down.

You could feel his tongue travel shallowly inside of you, his nose pressing against your skin. A soft hum from Vallen sent vibrations running up your body and you could feel yourself leak out beads of pre-cum. He's never done this before but he was so good at it. "Not enough is it?" Vallen teased, pulling away — but not before kissing your winking entrance. He moved to sit up on his knees, unzipping his pants and sliding down his boxers, letting his dick spring out.

"Maybe... this would be more suitable for you," He grinned, tapping his blushed tip against your puckered hole — a small indicator that he was going to move. His hands made their way to plant beside your head, keeping him up and in good view of your back and those long ears that draped across your head. He moved his hips down, sliding into you and stretching you out from his sheer girth. "Mm... cute," He grunted, taking a moment to savour your warmth clenching around him.

You couldn't take it! It was your natural instinct to breed. All this slow, gentleness was endearing, yes, but to you — someone with a high libido — this was like torture. Your ass desperately pushed back against Vallen, chasing some friction— anything to sate that feeling in your stomach.

"Woah, calm down bunny," Vallen chuckled, reaching his hand up to grab your ears and clenching them in his right hand like it was a leash. "You're playing with me too much," You whine, your body freezing from the hold on your ears. You felt like a kitten being held by its scruff. "Vallen," You tried to scold him but it came out more of a whine when he tugged on your ears, holding them firmly in his hands as he slowly began to move.

His home office was soon filled with lewd noises, his hips pulling out before driving back into you with each thrust. He kept your lower half pinned down but the grip on your ears kept your head up — you had a tendency of shying your noises away, and Vallen didn't seem to like that. His cock was girthy, not exactly thick but definitely long. Everytime he pounded into you, his tip would brush even further than your prostate. "My bunny is so pretty isn't he?" Vallen hummed, pulling your head back a bit more by your ears so he could get a good look at your fucked out face.

Your hips pushed up into his, rutting against him. You could feel your own cock twitch underneath you, and the velvet texture of the couch rubbing against the underside did nothing but drive you crazy. A string of curses left your lips when Vallen finally decided to let you of your ears and moved his attention to grab your hips, angling you in a way where his dick would reach even deeper. You could feel it in your stomach, that warmth pushing past your walls in and out over and over again.

His groans turned you on too, an indicator that he was just as obsessed with you as you were with him. "Baby, relax, you're too tight" Vallen leaned down to whisper in your ear, his voice cracking a bit with pleasure, "Just relax," he practically growled in your ear, his hand moving to your tail as he rolled the fluff between his fingers. Vallen twitched inside if you, his dick throbbing with need.

With one more thrust he came, holding your hips down to prevent you from squirming away and wasting his fluid. "Thats it, bunny," He huffed, slowly pulling out to watch his cum spill from your pink hole — a lewd sight he'd always love. He sat back on the couch, taking a moment to breathe and rest his body. Your orgasm was evident too judging from the mess on the couch.

"Coffee, now?" Vallen chuckled, a small smile on his face as he watched you sit up. When you didn't respond his eyebrows furrowed, "Bunny?" Vallen knew about your libido, he's read articles about it multiple times but he always seems to underestimate how much you could really take.

You turned around, pushing him back down on the couch as you straddled his hips, hastily descending back down on him. Vallen groaned his body faltering while he tried to grow accustomed to your warmth again. He checked his watch, the silver glinting in the dim lighting — he had time. "You're going to kill me," He chuckled.

a/n ; finally !! Vallen ♡♡ I've almost forgotten how to write him since its been so long but I finally found the time to do it !

#servicpop — fics/drabbles #bottom male reader #male reader #mlm #oc x male reader #sub male reader #x male reader #mlm ns/fw

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slater-baby · 6 months ago

Note

Hi slater I saw that you do requests now and I can’t stop thinking about this prompt so I RAN to your ask box

Imagine if Simon had like a girlfriend or wife that he hid from the 141 bc he’s scared to put her in danger but then he accidentally ends up mentioning her anyway? Imagine how cute their reaction would be :(((((

Anyway I love Texas Red rn literally what I sleep eat and breathe <3 hope you’re doing well lovely

- 🐙 anon

Im gonna call u Octo Anon cause somehow that goes well in my mind lol hope you enjoy the story!! Tags: drinking, recreational drug use (weed), drunken confessions, banter, newlyweds, pure tooth-rotting fluff, whipped!Simon

Six months.

It had been six painfully long months since they’d been sent on this blasted deployment. A deployment which, to no short degree, went off the rails the minute they hopped off the transport. They’d been stuck in the ass end of the Mexican jungle, working a joint operation to see a few two-bit traffickers into their maximum security cells in the United States.

Thinking back on it now, it was far from the most dangerous operation they’d ever been sent on, but if the misadventures they’d had had been any less hilarious, he might have been inclined to say the short deployment would live on in his nightmares.

First, a private had accidentally locked the keys to one of their armored trucks inside the car. Price had been livid, shouting loud enough that the enemy might as well have had their direct position on UAV. Needless to say, it took three hours, two crow bars, and five men over 220 to crack the doors in time to make it back for evening mess.

Then, Soap’s detonators had fizzled out halfway through an infiltration.

“Fuck do you mean they’re blitzed?!” Simon had yelled through the heavy gunfire, ducking behind a tree trunk when a bullet came whizzing by his face.

“Means the cap’s fucked,” Soap had yelled back, crouching in a pile of wires that were all too complicated for Simon to understand.

“Get it fuckin’ fixed, will ya?! I got thirty men out here, and I’m not burying ‘em until we’re back at base—”

“Have some patience, LT—”

“Patience?!” Simon had growled, pinning Johnny with a pointed stare, “Another word, MacTavish, and send you out there myself.”

“Just—” Soap grunted, stripping another wire, “Got my wires crossed or something—”

A blaze had consumed the battlefield, a shockwave big enough to make Simon stumble on his feet rocking the earth. A tense quiet had ensued, punctuated by falling tree limbs. The gun shots had halted immediately. Panting, he’d looked down at Soap’s confused face.

“Oh…” the sergeant had chuckled, holding up the detonator for Simon to look at, “Guess it was the yellow wire then.”

And even after all that, there were no shortage of stupid mistakes on base that had nearly cost him his sanity. A few privates suspiciously AWOL (who’d eventually been found blind drunk at a tequila bar after a five alarm fire and an intense search of the entire base). An air raid siren that malfunctioned the minute the lot of them were finally down to sleep. And to cap it all off, a session with a group of green recruits who wanted to observe a few SAS soldiers in their prime. One thing led to another, and when an errant misfire at the gun range nearly landed in Simon’s foot, he would have swum all the way back to England just to get a night of peace and quiet in his own damn house.

However, all’s well that end’s well, he supposes. No use in complaining about it now—especially when the mission had bore such impressive fruits. In the end, all three of the targets they’d been searching for had gone away in cuffs, and to top it all off, the leader of the cartel in question was coincidentally at the meeting they’d raided just hours ago—an absolute miracle by all counts.

Another success. Another name crossed off the Most Wanted List. And another long night of celebration before they headed back to Europe. All things considered, it couldn’t have ended better.

Though, that isn’t to say they were any more professional than they’d been when they’d gotten here.

“Soap,” he’d groaned, deadpan.

“C’mon, Ghost, lighten up,” Johnny had drawled, sticking the smoke between his teeth.

“What the hell is that?” He’d pointed to the smoke in question.

“Nothin’, LT. Just…” he’d shrugged, lighting up, “…not baccy.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon remarked, pinching his nose bridge, “Y’know, Price’ll have you by the balls if he sees you smoking that.”

“Not if I offer him a hit first,” Soap answered, blowing a ring of smoke, “Old bastard’s got back pain, y’know…”

“Fuckin’ hell…”

Simon had shaken his head, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. Beyond the fence of the base, he’d seen the chirping night bugs, glowing fireflies illuminating the woods just on the other end. Out of the corner of his eye, he’d seen another cloud of smoke waft throughout the air. His fingers had tapped against his bicep. His profuse scowl fell with a single twitch of his lip.

“Fine,” he’d relented (all too excitedly), “Give it—before I decide to write you up myself.”

Needless to say, one hit turned into a second…turned into this.

“No—no, that’s against the rules,” Kyle wheezed, bent halfway over in his chair while Soap sat on his knees in the chair across the table, squinting aggressively down at the cups of beer on Kyle’s end.

“It’s fuckin’ not, ye git, now yer just being dramatic—” he wobbled on his knees, barely able to catch himself on the edge of the table before he fell off the chair.

“Hate it break it to you, lads,” Price smirked, feet kicked up against the table while he sipped on a finger of whiskey, “But beer pong ain’t exactly meant to be played sitting down…don’t even know what rules you’re yapping about…”

“Shut up, Price,” both of them had drunkenly snapped, and Price acquiesced with two raised hands.

Somehow, the night had come to this. The four of them in the basement of the watchman’s tower, surrounded in all the army fanfare one could expect. Open bottles of Jack Daniels. Old posters of bikini models on the concrete walls. Metal music blaring through a tinny bluetooth speaker.

Soap had bought too much weed for his own good. Which—when combined with a near lethal dose of liquor—had all of them blazed off of their faces. Captain, included. At least, if they got written up, their leading officer’s signature could bail them out. Not like the MP wouldn’t keep their mouths shut for a few hits, anyway.

Now, Kyle and Johnny were an hour into a game of beer pong, adding a new rule seemingly every second just to keep things interesting. First, you had to drink two cups for every point the other person scored. Then, you had to balance a shot of tequila on your shoulder when you threw. And now, you had to be sitting in a chair that was at least a foot away from the edge of the table when it was your turn.

The two of them were so smashed this round alone had taken them forty five minutes at least. And—judging by the way Soap was wobbling on his knees—it would be another forty five minutes at the very least.

“Just fucking throw already,” Kyle giggled.

“Shut up, Gaz, m’allowed to take my time—”

With a look of sloshed concentration, Soap inelegantly chucks the ping pong ball across the table, arm wound up like a baseball pitcher just to get it in the cup without a bounce. It smacks Kyle in the chest, knocking over a cup of beer, and before he can even curse, the wheels of the chair slide out from under him, and Johnny lands face first on the concrete floor.

The sound of it is so loud it rings around the walls. The laughter that ensues is so raucous the boys on watch duty upstairs are no doubt getting an earful.

“Fuck—” Gaz wheezes, clutching his stomach.

Simon manages to stifle a laugh with another sip of beer. But when Price suddenly jerks forward, a spray of whiskey leaving his mouth, Simon can’t contain his own laughter for even a second longer. His chuckles are deep and hoarse, a sound that was so scarcely heard Soap stops his whining just to straighten up in awe.

But, hell, even if the three of them are staring at him like he’s grown a second head, Simon can’t stop it. No, he laughs until he’s nearly blue in the face, coughing around the remnants of the beer in his mouth.

“Damn,” Kyle peers curiously over at him, drunken gaze so amusing it only makes him laugh harder, “Looks like you broke him…”

“Not broken,” he manages brokenly, clearing his throat to try and appear a bit more sober, but he’s far too sloshed to hide the way that he smiles, “Y’just look like an idiot is all.”

“M’not an idjit—”

“Just proves his point,” Price chips in.

“Whatever,” Soap sighs, standing up and dusting him off, “You bastards’re no fun anyway…”

For a second, the conversation drops out and only the music on the speaker can be heard. Idly, Simon looks down at his watch, however, with that simple movement, his head spins viciously, and he takes a deep breath just to steady himself.

“Anybody got a pack o’ menthols?” Kyle suddenly chimes in, “Already smoked through mine…”

Simon hums, propping his hip up to reach into his jeans pocket to rifle around, “Think I got another pack…”

“Which brand?”

“Newport.”

“Braw,” Soap reaches over the table, “You lads want another round?”

“I miss Nando’s,” Gaz sighs, lazily fiddling with the beer bottle in his lap.

“Fuck, that sounds good,” Soap hazily leans onto his shoulder, eyes closed, like if he thought hard enough, he might be able to conjure the taste of it on his tongue. Truthfully, Johnny was a bit too drunk to conjure up anything beyond the taste of Don Julio, but even that seemed a little far fetched at the moment.

They’d been doing this for a while now, going back and forth with all the things they wanted after deployment ended. It was a mindless game, one they probably wouldn’t even remember in the morning. Hell, even Simon was getting loose in the lips, droning on and on about some magical dish he’d been aching for. Honestly, it was so surprising to see him open up that the three of them were all but speechless to reply, listening intently as he stumbled through an incoherent explanation. Hell, at this point, they’d listen to him talk nonsense so long as his coworkers got a glimpse into the mysterious life he lived when he was off base.

Over the years, the most he’d talked about was the gym that he frequented, and which groceries he bought for dinner. In all honesty, it was hard to imagine Ghost outside of those two particular scenarios. Ghost, lifting weights for hours on end, some acrid black metal blaring in his headphones. Ghost, puttering through the grocery store with a surgical mask on, trolley chock full of sad TV dinners and beer cans. To Johnny, it seemed like Simon only came out of his shell on base, amongst his friends. But as a civillian…

Yeah, Johnny can practically imagine him sitting in his darkened flat, scarfing down protein bars and counting down the days until they were back on the job.

Coworker gossip aside, all the food talk was making Johnny’s stomach rumble, and the fact that they’d be back in the UK just past one in the morning was not helping the vicious craving he had for Peri Peri chicken.

“I miss sausage rolls,” he slurs. God, when had Kyle’s shoulder gotten so comfortable? Somewhere between pint three and four?

“Jaffa cakes,” Price offers.

“Fuck,” Kyle groans, head thrown back against the sofa cushions.

Simon mumbles something underneath his breath. It’s slurred and nearly incoherent. Johnny peaks open a single eye to look over at where he sits in his stool, leant up against the wall because he was too drunk to sit up straight anymore. Idly, he laughs. God, if only the guys on the other side could see him now: the infamous Ghost, blackout drunk next to some faded Playboy poster.

Fuck.

Soap has half a mind to take a picture of it if only so that he could tease Simon about it when they were nursing hangovers on the plane tomorrow morning.

However, Simon doesn’t make to speak up again, and the rest of them don’t comment. Instead, they continue sipping on their final drinks, all of them watching with rapt attention as the ceiling fan makes another circle.

“Miss my couch,” Price suddenly chimes.

Another few seconds. Another few circles.

“I miss steak pie,” he suddenly finds himself drawling eyes unwittingly closed, “The one my ma used to make…”

“Chicken dippers—the kind you put in the oven…” Gaz responds, “And fresh chips.”

“Chicken noodle soup,” Price hums, “Mum used to make the best…”

Just imagining the taste, Johnny could burst into tears. God, it’s been a long six months, eating nothing but mess hall mashed potatoes and MREs. He’s just about to chime in when Simon’s arm shifts against the wall and he manages a slurred sentence.

“Pasta and shrimp,” he says, voice unfocused like the reply was completely unconscious, “With…white wine and butter…”

At that, Soap furrows his brows—even with his eyes still closed. Simon drank white wine? Simon “Ghost” Riley, the man who wore a literal human skull on his face and had a tattoo of an AK-47 on his forearm, drank white wine and ate shrimp pasta when he was off duty?

Hm.

Never guess a book by its cover, he supposes.

Another silence ensues, one that’s punctuated with the somber, quiet atmosphere of the early morning and months without comfort. Now that the beer has dried up, and the battery on the speaker had died, there was nothing left except for a quiet yearning for a place that wasn’t here. A place that was faraway and over seas, full of life and love, as well as all the people who were waiting for them to come back.

“I miss doing the laundry,” Price says, voice…unreadable.

“Miss going grocery shopping,” Gaz huffs quietly.

“I miss…” Johnny beings, nearly falling asleep, “I miss going home.”

With that, it all drops dead. There’s no more fanfare, no more celebration. Not for what they’d achieved or what they’d done. There was only reality, cold and hard, weighing on their shoulders like a barbell.

That is, until Simon makes a long sigh, clumsily leaning his elbows on his knees. He swipes over his face, tired and smashed.

“Fuck,” he says, “I miss my wife.”

At that, three pairs of eyes shoot open all at once. Suddenly, sleep seems like a faraway dream. And even if his head spins, Johnny straightens up in his chair.

“What?” Kyle asks, voice so sharp Soap would have thought he was sober.

“Miss my wife,” Simon drawls, taking a breath, “It’s been…six months.”

“But…” Soap furrows his brows, sending Price a questioning look from across the room. Even the Captain seems puzzled, sending Johnny an eager nod in approval.

“But…you have a wife?” Soap manages, wiping his eyes to see Simon’s exposed smile even a little bit clearer.

“‘Course I fuckin’ do,” he answers, nearly falling off of his stool when he straightens back up, “She’s waitin’ for me back home. Doesn’t know I’ll be back tomorrow…”

“But you have a wife?!” Kyle edges, leaning forward on his elbows like this was astonishing news. And Johnny does, too, because of course it fucking was. His lieutenant? Married? Had hell frozen over?

“What?” Simon glances around the room, lips pulled into a clumsy scowl, as if the answer were obvious, “Price has a wife. S’not all that weird…”

“Had,” Price corrects, taking another gulp of beer, “Divorced last year.”

“Whatever,” Simon flippantly waves his hand, leaning back into the wall like he could pass out at a moments’ notice, “Fuck the lot of you. My wife is...Fuck, I miss her.”

“No—didn’t mean it like that, it’s just…” Kyle swallows, trying valiantly to wrack his brain for any singular instance where Simon could have mentioned a girlfriend, “Never heard how the two of you met.”

“I didn’t tell you?”

“Guess I just forgot,” Gaz lies through his teeth.

“Mm…” Simon swipes his palm over his stubble, head lolling, “Met her a couple years ago. She lived across the hall. Y’know, neighbors ’n all that shite…”

As Simon readies himself to speak another word, Price leans forward, too, the three of them watching with equal amounts of bewilderment as Simon explains his supposed “wife.” If he was being truthful, Johnny still didn’t believe it. To have a pretty little thing waiting for him at home, cooking him dinners with white wine and grilled shrimp…sue him if it all feels like a grand lie. Another joke Simon would play on them.

“She brought me biscuits when she moved in,” Simon huffs, eyebrows raised like he was imagining the taste of it himself, “God, they were so good…I miss that. Her biscuits. She makes ‘em so good. Cherry pie, too…She makes ‘em on movie night. Whole batches of ‘em. She doesn’t even complain when I eat ‘em all. She just makes more. Fuck, she’s too sweet…”

Simon rubs his fingers over his eyes, mouth closing—like he didn’t have an entire audience captivated with his drunken slurs.

“And…?” Gaz prompts, practically unblinking.

“Well…I mean, when I opened the door I hated it,” he snorts, unconsciously smiling, “‘Cause I don’t want some neighbour makin’ a racket when I get home from work, y’know?”

“Yeah.”

“Totally.”

“Completely understandable.”

“But then…” Simon rubs over his lips, eyes hazy, “Had to return the container. ’N so I went over one night, and she was makin’ dinner. Said she didn’t have any friends in the city, and…I felt bad so I ate with her.”

Kyle scrunches his face, sending Soap a questioning look. He leans over to Johnny’s ear, letting out a conspicuous whisper.

“Some romance this is,” he jokes, chortling.

Soap’s inclined to agree. The most romance he could imagine for his lieutenant would be a hookup in the bar bathroom, nothing more. Home made cookies and white wine dinners with the girl next door seems like a pipe dream…

“So you got with her cause she cooks well?” Price asks, smirking.

“What?” Simon’s lips curl into a snarl, and he glares in Price’s direction, “What makes you think that?”

“Nothin’ just…” Price quirks his head, smirk widening into a smile.

“No,” Simon growls, passionate but much too inebriated to make it eloquent. Price chuckles, raising his hands in faux surrender, “S’not that, she’s just…she’s so good to me.”

“So, then,” Kyle stifles a laugh, “You got with her because—”

“Don’t talk about m’wife like that,” He warns, rolling his eyes, “She’s too sweet for that. Didn’t let me kiss her until the third date…”

“So you dated her?” Soap asks in awe, “Like, for how long?”

“For…” Simon concentrates, taking in a low inhale, “Until December…Before we came out here.”

At that, the three of them send each other confused looks, brows scrunched.

“So she was dating you until you came out here?” Kyle pushes, “I thought you said that she was your wife…”

“She is,” he hums dreamily, a small smile overcoming his scarred lips, “Went to the courthouse ’n everything. Gave her my last name. She said she didn’t wanna let me go until I made her mine…’n so I did. Don’t tell her, but I like it like that. Her havin’ my name. It sounds prettier with mine right next to hers.”

“Yeah?” Price chuckles, hiding behind his bottle, “’N what’s her name?”

Simon lolls his head to look at Price, clumsily readjusting himself in his seat. He crosses his arms over his chest, trying and failing to look as intimidating as he is when he’s sober.

“Not telling you,” he sighs, “You lot would just fuck with her…”

“No, I swear we won’t,” Johnny scoots up in his seat, “Just…c’mon, Ghost, what is it?”

Simon’s eyes are pensive as he looks down at Soap, worrying his cheek. That is, until he opens his mouth.

“Definitely not tellin’ you, MacTavish,” he grunts, “Don’t want some git like you hittin’ on my wife…”

Soap’s face falls, unduly offended. Price and Kyle, however, only laugh just that much harder, practically spitting up liquor with every noise. Johnny, however, can only cross his arms in anger.

“Whatever, s’not like the lass even exists anyway,” Soap rolls his eyes, gesturing towards Simon’s inebriated state, “What’s next, Simon? Gonna say she goes to another school or some shite?”

“Just ‘cause I got a pretty thing at home doesn’t mean you have to be jealous, Johnny,” he defends himself, “Just upset that I got a girl who loves me ’n you don’t…”

“M’not jealous—”

“No, no, Johnny’s right, Simon,” Price interjects, shoving Johnny back with a hand against his chest, “it’s just…no offense, but you haven’t talked about her…well, uh—not that much, anyway. And her being your wife…I mean, I don’t quite believe it.”

“What, gonna ask me for pictures or something?” Simon screws his face up in disgust, “Yeah, right…Try ’n cop a look and I’ll lay you flat.”

Before Johnny can ask for said pictures (let alone what kind of photos Simon had of his supposed “wife”) John nails him with a look, zipping his mouth shut.

“No, not that just…” Price shrugs, gesturing towards Simon’s phone on the table, “Call her or something. Tell her you’re coming home tomorrow. Sure she’d love to hear from you.”

“No, not right now,” Simon groans, resting his arms on the table, “Fuck…she gets mad when m’drunk. Doesn’t want me out late. She gets scared when she’s at home alone, wants me there to keep her safe. She needs me at home, y’know…She doesn’t sleep well when she has the bed to herself. Can’t be sloshed like this…”

“Well,” John smiles, “All the more reason to tell her you’re coming home tomorrow, yeah? It’ll be fine, just…call her.”

Simon seems to debate it for a moment, wavering in his spot on the stool. Meanwhile, Price, John, and Johnny all watch with rapt attention, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. When Simon reaches to tap at his phone screen, navigating through the apps on pure muscle memory, they’re on the edge of his seat. But when he taps a contact, the ambient sounds of a tone ringing, they’re nearly vibrating—that is, until the ringing halts with a spur of static.

“Hello?” A female voice answers.

Instantly, all three of them go from lounging in their chairs to leaning over the table in utter disbelief, staring down at the screen with unblinking eyes.

“Hey, love,” Simon calls, the word slipping out of his mouth like it was second nature.

“Simon?” You ask, “Is that you?”

Your voice peaks around his name, some ambient shuffling in the background as you no doubt stood up from wherever you’d been sitting before—delighted to hear from him.

“Yeah, it’s me, love.”

“Hey,” you say in response, an awed giggle exiting your mouth, “I—I thought that I wouldn’t hear from you for another week…”

“No, just…finished the mission early. Cuffed the bastards like…five hours ago. It’s just me ’n the boys now.”

“Really?” You exclaim, a broad smile in your voice, “You’re not lying?”

“No, love, I was jus’ calling ‘cause I wanted to tell you I’ll be home tomorrow.”

Simon’s voice is softer around the words, kinder. Almost like he thought the rough baritone of his voice would grate on your ears. Well, that, or he was just too drunk to hide how infatuated he was with you. Hell, the smile on his face—small and imperceptible—was almost so telling Johnny would have thought you were standing right in front of him if he hadn’t heard your voice coming through the speakers.

However, Johnny’s a little too busy to articulate that particular thought right now. No, his jaw was firmly on the table, listening to Simon sweet talk his wife through the phone line.

Simon had a wife.

Simon had a bloody wife and he didn’t fucking tell them.

The mangey bastard, Soap whips his head around to look at Simon, about ready to curse at him before you speak up again.

“So it all went well? You’re—you’re not hurt are you?”

“No, just tired…” Simon huffs, “Wanna fuckin’ sleep, and…I wanna go to Gregg’s when I get back.”

At that, you can’t contain the flowery laugh you release. It’s so melodic Soap has a hard time connecting Simon’s monologue with the vision of you he’s getting now.

Pretty thing like you showed up at his flat, a box of cookies in hand, with that sweet voice and beautiful laugh and Simon didn’t jump at the chance? Fucking unbelievable.

Though, looking at the man now, Johnny has no doubt that Simon was about ready to get down on his knees and kiss the ground that you walked on. Literally. He seemed about drunk enough to do it, too.

“Simon,” you scoff, “Are you drunk?”

At the dreaded question, Simon sighs all too obviously, closing his eyes, “Yeah.”

You don’t get angry. No, you only giggle to yourself once more, a quiet exasperation in your voice.

“Babe,” you huff, and Soap imagines that you cross your arms, “Y’know, you can have Gregg’s any time you want…Don’t you want a dinner at home before we leave for Italy?”

“Italy?” Kyle raises his eyebrows, whispering.

Johnny does the same. Only, the alcohol catches up to him before he can pretend to be subtle.

“You’re going to Italy right after ye get home?” He asks Simon, nearly yelling.

“Shut up, Soap, m’talking to my girl right now,” Simon grunts, too sloshed to be mad.

“Who was that?” You interject, but before Soap can reach for the phone, Simon clumsily shoves him away.

“No one you should talk to, love,” he shakes his head like you could see it through the phone, “Just…yeah, you’re right.”

“Okay, then,” you laugh, “Well, what do you wanna eat? I’ll have it made before you get home.”

Simon considers the question for a few seconds, like it was of monumental importance to him. When he speaks, he speaks precisely…even if it is slurred with alcohol.

“Can you make that—that pasta? Y’know, like, with the shrimp and the wine…”

“You mean white wine pasta?”

“Yeah, that one…”

“White wine pasta…” Soap furrows his brow, releasing a disbelieving chuckle, “Dinnae know you liked white wine, LT…”

“I don’t…”

“Then why do you want it when—”

“It’s in the pasta,” you laugh, barely able to get through your words without being interrupted, “He doesn’t drink it.”

“Oh,” Soap says stupidly, tempted to introduce himself, if only so that he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself in front of his friend’s wife. But what would he say?

Oh, hello, Mrs. Riley. Sorry, we force fed your husband weed and menthols until he was too high to remember not to tell us about you?

Yeah, he should save the formalities for later.

“Well,” your voice is staticky through the phone, “If that’s it, then I guess that’s fine. You sure you don’t want me to make anything else? It’s been six months."

“I know,” he professes, like it was some grand hurt in his heart, “Fuck…I miss you.”

You only laugh, voice sickly sweet and cloying, “I miss you too, baby. Know when you’ll be home?”

“We’ll be at the airport late…Probably after one.”

“Want me to pick you up?”

“Yeah,” he sniffs, wiping at his face, “Don’t wanna bother with the transport…”

“Got it,” you hum, “I’ll see you then.”

“Okay,” Simon relents, but before he can forget himself, he suddenly perks up, huddling closer to the speaker, “Hey, love, wait a minute.”

“What?”

“When you drive there, promise me you’ll be careful, yeah? The car’s still…fucked,” he explains simply, almost like he couldn’t come up with a way to describe it when he was so drunk, “Just—check the power steering fluid. Make sure it’s topped off. You’ve been doing it like I showed you?”

“Yeah, but…” you make a small noise, “We’re kinda running out…”

“That’s okay, love. Don’t worry about it,” he answers, “So long as its topped off I’ll know you’re safe. I’ll take care of it when I get home…’n I’m not so tired.”

Once again, you chuckle, “Got it, Simon.”

“See you tomorrow?” He asks.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow, baby.”

“Good,” he finishes, letting out a long sigh, “When you get to the airport, wear that white dress. The pretty one, y’know. That way I can pick you out of the crowd.”

“Simon, you don’t have to make an excuse to get me to dress up…”

“Yeah, but…” he smiles down at the phone, looking all too sick and in love, “Want you to look good before we leave for Italy.”

“Don’t worry about that, Simon,” you snort, “I’ll give you a whole tour of all the clothes I bought while you were gone.”

“Can’t wait,” he supplies, eyes closing around the words, “Tomorrow.”

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

“I love you,” he says without even thinking, staring down at your screen name with blackened pupils, “Sleep well, love.”

“I’ll sleep better once you’re home,” you tell him emphatically, “I love you, too, baby.”

With that, the line goes dead, and all that remains is Simon’s swaying form and his friends’ locked jaws. The three of them are so stunned they can barely speak, looking back and forth between Simon’s face and his phone like all of this would suddenly start making sense the more they wracked their brains about it.

“M’fucking knackered,” Simon suddenly says, planting his hands on the table top, “Can’t be too tired when I get home tomorrow…”

“Wait—you said you’re gong to Italy when you get back?” Kyle questions, grabbing Simon by the sleeve when he gets up to leave.

“Yeah,” Simon answers—like it was just common sense. Kyle, however, can only roll his eyes.

“Well, what for?”

“Our fuckin’ honeymoon,” Simon shoves Kyle’s hands away, “Just got bloody married and you think I wouldn’t treat my girl right. You lot are fuckin’ twats,” he shakes his head, climbing the stairs before any of them can say another word, “Bloody cavemen. The lot of you.”

They watch, stunned, as Simon scales the stairs, clinging to the hand rail like he’d go tumbling down without it. And judging by his clunky steps, he really might. However, when the door up top opens with a squeak and is slammed closed right after, Soap figures he can leave the man to his own devices tonight. Slowly, the three of them exchange looks between each other, all equally puzzled as the next.

“Honeymoon?” Kyle whispers.

“Simon’s a newlywed?” Price hisses.

Above, they hear Simon’s footsteps plod away, getting lighter and lighter as they go. At that, Soap can only laugh disbelievingly, shaking his head.

“Fuck me,” he curses, staring down at the table in awe. He looks at all the empty bottles, at the brimming ash tray.

“You think if he sleeps it off he’ll forget?”

“Better hope so,” Price sneers, standing from his chair, “Otherwise, he might accuse you of hitting on his wife again.”

Soap deadpans once again, glaring at the captain, “I was not—”

“Yeah, tell the newlywed husband that,” the Captain waves over his shoulder, “Who knows, might pummel your face in before you get back to Edinburgh. Sure the cashier at Nando’s would love to see that.”

“Whatever,” Soap rolls his eyes—not for the first time.

Kyle’s hand claps down on his shoulder, and his friend sends him a widening smile.

“You’re fucked, mate,” he supplies simply.

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goldenstring6123 · 4 months ago

Note

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNXxJ8TM/

THIS IS SO CUTE PLS I CAN SO CLEARLY SEE THE LADS MEN DOING THIS 😭 and the comment section had me dying where is evb finding these MEN 😔🙏

Lnds: Sleepy time!

Warning: No warnings, afab!reader, fem!reader

Authors note: Fluff (not a lot of it) and a bit of domestic stuff.

Sylus:

It had been 30 minutes since you left the bedroom. Sylus was already well on his side of the mattress, reading the news while waiting for you to come back. He thought you were just up and about doing your normal routine of drinking herbal tea and doing skincare, but it was taking you far longer than usual.

He settled the tablet down on the nightstand and walked out of the bedroom. He searched for you in every room he passed by, and when he arrived at the guest bedroom at the end of the hall, there you were, perfectly tucked in under the unused duvet.

You were curled into a ball and too engrossed in the video you were watching; you didn't even notice the black fuzzy threads wrapping around your weird curled-up position. You lifted off from the bed, and when you came to, the view was of Sylus' back as you involuntarily made your way back to his bedroom.

"So you're not going to put me down?" you asked, paying attention to the video again. "Are manners not a thing anymore?"

The brooding man didn't spare you a glance. "I'm not open for discussion. You're supposed to sleep in my bedroom. Our bedroom."

"I just wanted a bed all to myself," you uttered. Here you were, planning what to watch and what to eat for the whole night, and this guy managed to foil it.

"I don't share the same sentiment, sweetie. You have the bed every time I'm overseas on a work trip. It's even infested with your colorful pillows," he opened the door to the bedroom and reeled you in, gesturing to your side of the bed which had vibrant pillows and bed 'pets,' as you like to refer to them.

"You really can't sleep without me, can you, Mr. Big guy? Afraid that someone's under the bed or something?"

"I'm more afraid that you're going to ravage my food pantry when you're not in my line of sight."

"The guest bedroom is nowhere near the pantry and I don't ravage it—I simply take a few snacks," you clarified. "Greg would be sad if the food spoils."

"Either way, you sleep in my bedroom or my couch, nowhere else, sweetie."

"Admit it: You like my company, don't you?" You gave him a cheeky grin.

"Yes, yes," Sylus agreed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "You make a good meat shield when we get attacked in this bedroom."

"Oh wow. Reduced to a shield." You rolled your eyes in return and slipped under the covers. "That's Onychinus' leader for you."

"Right. Are you done now? I still have an early schedule for tomorrow."

"Alright, alright. I'm heading to bed now. You can sleep."

"Good. Now come here." Sylus opened his arms and you found yourself huddled right into it like it was the perfect mold. You shifted a bit and could feel his muscles relax against your back.

"Why did you feel the need to sleep in the guest room tonight?" Sylus asked under his breath.

"I was planning on reading comics all night. Tara recommended a new romance comic which I like, but knowing you, you'd probably take my phone away."

"Then it looks like I will be the bad guy tonight."

"Maybe. Until you fall asleep." You shrugged.

You hear the handcuffs being pulled out.

Shit.

Xavier:

3:02 AM, it says on the clock. You weren't on the bed. It was cold and it was proof that you never went on it, which was odd considering you told sleepy little Xavier that you were going to stay over. Poor little tired hunter was exhausted after a day's work and couldn't help but doze off while watching you do your little night ritual of moisturizing and doing a facemask.

Xavier sat on the side of the bed, letting out a big yawn. He didn't know where you were, but all he knew was that he didn't like being alone. From his palm, a faint whirlpool of light emanated, enough to guide him through his dark abode. His first thought was maybe you were watching in the living room. You weren't there. He then headed to the small bedroom right beside his, a spare one for guests, but it went unused when you both shared the same bed now.

He tried his best to quietly open the door. There he saw a little bump on the mattress and it made his heart squeeze; you were adorable and looked so small. Xavier tiptoed and folded the blanket away from you. He took a deep breath and lifted you up bridal style, pressing you against his chest.

"hm?…Xavier?" you slurred, vision dark and blurry.

"I'm moving you to our bedroom," he kissed the top of your head and continued his journey to the other room.

"You were sleeping," you paused, looking for the word. The drowsiness didn't seem to go away. "didn't want to…disturb you."

Xavier wanted to say something, but he and you both arrived at the side of the bed. He gently laid you down and placed a pillow between your limbs, which you automatically hugged. Xavier crawled to his side of the bed and yanked the cover over the both of you. Though you both weren't exactly touching, the little hunter's heart eased at your presence.

Gladly, he went back to sleep, hoping to maybe see you in his dreams.

Zayne:

Zayne's house was far too quiet when he arrived. It was only 7 o'clock, and by then you'd usually be in the kitchen, peeking your head out with a ladle in hand. There was no "welcome back" nor a simple "hello," but what did he expect? You were mad at him.

It's a shallow fight, really. Zayne decided to put you on alcohol time-out and took your hidden beers that you were so ready to drink after a grueling day at work. Zayne's judgment was far better than yours because when you get drunk beyond mental capacity, you tend to make a mess of the house, and you turn into a rage-filled, feisty lady. Moreover, you'd been chain-drinking for the whole week, and Zayne was getting concerned because you kept having hangovers.

His hands twisted on the knob to the little library of his house, where he would always find you on nights like these. There you were, curled in the lazy boy sofa and turned away from him. You were awake, but you didn't want to look at your lover.

"I'm home," Zayne declared.

"Dinner's in the fridge. Heat it up," you responded and closed your eyes. Zayne's footsteps grew closer and closer to you, and you felt his palm land on your shoulder.

"Your back will hurt if you sleep in that position."

The sofa might look soft and admittedly it's pretty comfortable to sit on for a long period of time, but with the curled-up position you have, it was bound to hurt when you fall asleep.

"I'm perfectly fine," you replied.

"Don't be stubborn." Zayne decided to pick you up. You wanted to thrash and get out of his grasp, but then you would look childish.

"I don't want to be with you tonight."

Zayne kept his lips in a thin line. He's more than aware that you're saying that because you're mad, but still—It hurts to hear it from you.

Gently, Zayne settled you in the middle of the bed. "I'll sleep in the living room. Stay here," he whispered and tucked the blanket over your shoulders. It was dark in the bedroom, so you couldn't exactly see him. You rolled over to face away from your lover and patiently waited for him to leave.

1:34 AM. You couldn't sleep. A can of beer would do you some good, but your tongue wasn't craving the bitterness of it. Instead, your mind looped over to a few hours ago when you said something that you didn't mean. It was harsh now that you think about it.

Now Zayne is keeping his distance from you. The owner of the house is sleeping on the couch.

With two pillows and a blanket in hand, you made your way down the flight of mahogany stairs. The living room was in full view, and Zayne was fast asleep on the couch. You nudged the two ottomans to the space between the coffee table and the main sofa. Then you threw the pillows and spread the blanket wide, letting it flutter down while you made yourself fit on the ottoman chairs.

You left a few spaces between you and Zayne, one that was filled by the cold pillow.

2:46 AM. Zayne stirred awake and found a blanket draped over his body. Beside him was his supposedly angry lover, clutching the hem of his shirt. He stared up into the chandelier above and took the pillow that was bordering between them, used it as his own, and pulled you closer, nudging the blanket over both of you even more.

Rafayel:

He's standing by the doorway, tapping his foot while a plushie was tucked under his armpit. He was frowning, and you could even see it through the dark.

"What?" you asked, shining the phone his way.

"So you're going to leave me alone tonight? Is that how you're going to play?" He was mad-mad, but that's why you were confused.

"Hey, drama king—you were complaining earlier in the day about my bad sleeping habits—I'm giving you the bed now so you can be at ease, but now you're mad at me again. Do you want me to sleep on the floor of your bedroom or something?"

"Duh? Of course not. I'm just complaining because it's true, but I never said you should sleep in the guest room."

"Then are you going to be alright with my sleeping habits?"

"No."

"Then sleep alone."

An audible gasp could be seen on the expression of the Lemurian. He looked so offended with the end of the conversation, but you weren't having it, so you plopped back onto the bed and hid under the covers, hoping that he'd go away.

The moment you peeked back out, you were rapidly crushed under heavy weight, making you sink to the bottom of the bed. Rafayel lay spread out on top of you, keeping you in your position and crushing you underneath him.

"Get off me! You're heavy!" You struggled underneath the blanket, nudging him and kicking him, but he pretended to be a dead body floating in the water. Rafayel kept still; if verbal convincing won't work, then he'll have to make you change your mind.

"Fine! Fine! I'll sleep with you!" you screamed. He rolled to the side, propped his elbows up, and rested his head on his palm. You just wanted to rub that triumphant grin off his face. He happily scooted underneath the blankets and hogged your side of the bed, wrapping his hand around you and shutting his eyes.

You didn't want to make a big deal of it further and decided to head to bed as well.

You were stirred awake by a strain in your neck. The lids of your eyes lifted at the electrifying pain that traveled to your head. You squinted, barely able to process the faint blue outside the window. Your body was spread out again, and nearby you could see Rafayel making use of the awkward space he was left with.

Guilt washed over your tired body.

Without much thought left, you held onto two pillows and let your body slip down to the carpeted floor. You hugged the pillow and placed another one under your head, liking the furry texture that brushed the side of your bare arms and legs. You closed your eyes again and let the tiredness wash over you.

It was cold for a summer morning. A large yawn escaped your lips and you patiently waited for your eyes to focus, and when they did, your eyes widened immediately at the beautiful sight of a sleeping Lemurian. Rafayel, too, was now on the floor, using his own arm as a pillow.

You tapped on his shoulder, and he just pulled you down back to the floor. "Five more minutes," he groaned, burying his face in your collar. Luckily, it was a Saturday, and you didn't have to go to work. You could indulge him in the meantime.

Author's footnotes: lol the tiktok was very cute, something that you'd see in a rom-com enemies to lovers sort of romance story. It would be a pretty redundant snippet if every situation is the same for the love interest so I took the liberty of changing things a bit.

Layout by me, using Canva Premium | Do not repost

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