#and his snores are so precious

[babymorte]

he’s so cute i can’t fucking take it

[himbobuck]

“I miss you all the time” “I love you” “congratulations dad” “you and me” “you’re gonna be okay kid” “hey Buck” “I know daddy” “I don’t wanna make you sad” “I love you daddy” “Love you dad” “can I spend Christmas with you” “you’re a good friend” “it’s gonna be o-kay Buck” “you’re weird dad” “you seem sad”

[moechies]

cw CHEESY sukuna, soft sex (*´ω｀*)

he was a rough man.

holding you down by your hips and bruising them, leaving red indents of his nails on your waist. but one thing you have chosen to remember from your first time with sukuna were his words, “don’t fuckin’ touch me. keep your hands to yourself, you dumb bitch.”

and ever since, you haven’t. you’ve kept your hands to yourself, always leaving them to your side, or pushing them against your tits to lower any chance of even grazing him.

but he notices.

he notices the way your arm and hand yearn to hold onto or touch something, how glossy eyes flutter to his face, quickly averting it when he notices. maybe you wanted to hold onto the back of his neck, or to touch his face; or maybe, even holding his hand. but you resist everytime, playing it off by letting your hand fall to your side when you find yourself wanting to reach to the man above you.

and he really does hate it, how precious you are. so precious, you’ve made him fall in love with you. how could he not, when you laid so beautifully under him, mewling into his shoulder and whimpering his name.. and the way you always made an attempt to fetch him a water, which he did take a sip out of every time. (he didn’t need it. )

he loved your breathy snores as you slept, aiding him to close his eyes and rest even though he prompted to stay awake to protect you. he’s fallen for you.

“k-kuna..”

his cock prods against your hole, twitching for any sort of stimulation as he rubs stripes up and down your cunt with his cockhead.

“i know. you’re gonna take it well, just like you do everytime.”

and it felt weird, the honey words that fell from his lips. it was sweet but unusual, and it made your heart ache. it hurts when he pushes in, it always does. but this time, it felt better, softer.

“brat, touch me.”

“w-what? but you sai—“

“don’t make me say it again, yeah? jus’ touch me.”

and you whine, before your arms finally part from your tits, your hand reaches for his cheek, from where he hid his face in your collar bone, making him look into you. he finds you pulling him in closer and closer, before your lips melt against each others.

“thank you.”

[cupid-grl]

18+ mdni.

simon “ghost” riley is absolutely the type of man to fall asleep while giving head.

dooon’t care what anyone else has to say. i know he’ll come home, exhausted and sore everywhere. he doesn’t even have the energy to pound his meaty cock into your tight little precious cunt. all he can think about is having you lie back, and bury his head deep into the softness of your thighs and eat you whole.

he’s lapping at your folds like a starved man, those half lidded eyes looking up at you as your face is glistening with sweat and your cheeks are all red and hot. his hands grip onto the sides of your ass so tight you wanna cry but he feels so good, you can’t tell him to move. he’s too pussy drunk to realize his grip is gonna leave purple hand marks on you tomorrow.

and you’re so focused on trying to reach your high, that when you finally look down the valley of your stomach, realize that simon had stopped working his skilled tongue on your pussy. his eyes closed, lips squished between your folds and he’s.. snoring?

poor baby was so tired, he tried to please you and himself the best he could. but you were so soft and so warm he couldn’t help but doze off on the comfort of your warm, wet pussy.

but don’t worry because when he wakes up, still half asleep, he’ll lazily begin drawing circles around your swollen clit with his warm tongue, before the twitching inside his trousers wakes him up and he’s back to tongue fucking you so good.

[entitled-fangirl]

Fatherhood.

Single father!Cregan Stark x reader

Summary: the reader comes across a young boy. It seems the boy's worried father becomes quite taken with her.

A/n: He's got cheekbones sharp enough to kill a man 👀

Part 2

Masterlist

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

She gasped when something grabbed her leg. 

The lady looked down to see a small boy, no older than two, holding her leg tightly. "Oh."

She ran a hand over the boy's hair as she looked around for someone, anyone in the crowd—his parents or her guard. Neither were in sight, it seemed. 

So she managed to pry him away enough to bend down to his level. 

"Where are your parents?" She whispered to him. 

When he didn't answer, she brushed his hair back from his forehead. "That's alright. We'll find them, yeah? They must be missing you fearsomely. What is your name?"

The boy stared with watery eyes. 

"Well," the lady continued, "Will you let me help you?"

The boy managed a nod and accepted the hug she offered him. 

She thanked the merchant that she had been speaking to and picked up the boy, now focusing her attention on the people rather than the goods they were selling. 

Darkish hair, she assumed from the boy's looks. Someone with blue eyes. Surely he was precious to someone.

"Hey," she lightly reprimanded when he tucked his face into her neck. "I need you to look for them. I don't know what…" Her voice trailed off. The boy was tired and scared and she could hardly blame him.

She roamed the long street once over, just looking for someone that lost their child. A worrisome mother or a stern father. But nothing. 

She sighed, rubbing the boy's back, "Father won't like this."

She continued on as before, shopping lightly with the boy in her arms. Her heart was warmed by the soft snores that came from his small body.

She walked down the cobble road, noticing a guard whose eyes lit up at the sight of her. It sent her on edge. She turned the other way. 

Another guard was coming from that direction. She froze. 

Trying another way, she tried to use the crowd to manage around them, but was met with another guard, quite literally running into him. She backed up in fear, her free hand over the boy's head as if she could protect him. 

"Hand over the boy, my lady."

They looked so angry. "N-No." She tried to display confidence but that's hardly what she accomplished. "Whatever the boy did, I can pay for-"

"My lady!" Her guard's voice came through. 

Her guard, Ser Marten, pushed through the guards and the crowd that seemed to not even notice the chaos that was happening. 

He pulled an arm around her. "Are you alright, my lady?"

She nodded and looked at the other guards. Her eyes flitted down to the sigil that laid on their cloaks. 

Stark. 

She feared Lord Stark was more cruel than she made him out to be, having three grown men chase down a small boy. 

"I won't ask again. Hand over the boy," one of the guards tried again.

"Ser," Ser Marten tried to ease. "Whatever the boy has done can be paid-"

The guard behind her reached out and wrapped a hand around the back of her neck. 

Ser Marten's eyes widened, and he pulled his sword from its sheath. "Unhand her."

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" A loud voice echoed through the street. 

The crowd practically split in two as the great Lord Cregan Stark ran to them. "Where-" He paused. "You've found him, my lady?"

Her brow furrowed. "W-What?"

"Unhand her and go," Cregan barked at the guards. "And you," he ordered Ser Marten, "Do sheath your sword. I'll not have violence on my streets."

Ser Marten blinked and did as he said. 

"You may go as well."

Marten looked between the two, only stepping back at the sight of his lady's nod. 

With him gone, she felt vulnerable. 

Cregan held his arms out, expecting her to hand him the boy. 

She turned away from him out of instinct, shielding the boy. "I-"

He frowned. "My lady." He extended his arms further. 

"Whatever he's done, my lord, I can pay for. I am not the richest and I hardly know what House Stark would want, but I can try. Please, don't hurt him."

Cregan's mouth opened in a reaction of shock. He tilted his head. She was more than meets the eye. "My lady, I am only a worried father. Please."

A feeling of embarrassment filled her stomach. "Oh." She pulled the boy out in her arms, seeing that, indeed, the Sigil of house Stark laid on the boy's chest. "Oh, forgive me!"

Cregan took his son with caring hands, careful not to wake him. "Oh, my boy," he sighed as he held him close to his chest. "Gods, I've never felt fear like this." He closed his eyes, not caring if he seemed weak for a moment. He was a terrified father and he wasn't afraid to seem it.

"Do forgive me, my lord. I-I didn't not realize-"

"-You did not realize that you held my future, the future of the North, in your arms?" He let out a breath of a laugh. "I owe you greatly." He looked down at the sigil on her cloak. "Lady Bolton? Are you Lord Bolton's new wife?"

She flushed. "No. NO. I am his daughter." She smoothed down her skirt in embarrassment. 

"Ah, forgive me. I thought his second wife was young. Perhaps I was mistaken."

"You weren't," she assured. "She's not much my elder. An honest mistake."

"But you are still of House Bolton? Unmarried, I mean?" He asked.

"Yes, as of the current time, yes."

He nodded with the information. "Strange to see a childless woman with such motherly instincts. He seemed quite content with you."

"He was quite frightened to be alone."

Cregan hummed. "Let me reward you. You've protected my boy and returned him to me."

"No, I couldn't-"

"-Nonsense. It's the very least I could do."

She watched the boy stir in the large man's arms. His tiny hand gripped Cregan's fur cloak tightly, as if finally feeling the full comfort of his home again. "Knowing I've done you a service is gratitude enough for me."

"Please." He looked around. "Are you alone, my lady? Surely I would have heard of Lord Bolton's arrival before this."

She nodded. "I come to the market every few months. This is the only place I've found dried lavender. Father says I have an obsession," she laughs. "Perhaps so. But I'm old enough now of course to journey alone. With my guard."

"And have you found it this time?" 

"Hmm?"

"The lavender?"

"Oh. Um," she looks around. "No, I haven't."

Cregan sighs. "That's a shame. Are you sure you won't accept a reward?"

She smiles. "Truly. I am sure." She reached out to brush the boy's hair, but stops herself when she realizes how inappropriate that is now that she knows it's Stark's son. "G'day, Lord Stark."

He stops her before she can turn to leave. "Lady Bolton. Do I get a first name?"

"Y/n."

He repeats it, as if committing it to memory. "Good day, my lady. I won't forget your kindness."

…

Cregan was honest about that. He didn't forget her kindness.

…

"My lady."

Her handmaiden interrupts her quiet time. 

"There's a gift for you, my lady."

Her eyes lit up. "What? From who?"

"I'm not sure. Shall I bring it in?"

She nodded and watched the woman disappear for a moment before reappearing with a small cloth sack.

She took the bag with nimble fingers, pulling it open. 

Dried Lavender. 

A small letter laid inside, sealed with wax, but no sigil.

A small gift to represent my gratitude.  - A relieved father

She let out a breath. How thoughtful of him to scour the market for this, even after she was unable to find it. 

"Who is it from, my lady?"

"Just a man I helped back in Winterfell."

"Well, how thoughtful."

Yes, she thought, Cregan Stark was quite the thoughtful man.

…

Cregan sat at his council meeting, his boy, Rickon, sitting in his lap, tapping his wooden horse against the table as he played with it. The northern lord hardly noticed the sound at this point, the boy's antics becoming second nature to him. 

"I agree, my lord," one of his councilmen spoke, "perhaps that would be best for the North."

A servant interrupted. "Forgive me, my lord. But it's a letter."

Cregan's mind snapped as he looked up. "Is it? Hand it here."

The servant walked it over to him and dismissed himself.

Cregan's fingers brushed over the wax. 

The Bolton sigil. 

He could practically feel his hands shake as he opened it.

My heart is lightened at the news of your relief.  I thank you for your gift. It was more gracious than I fear I deserved. I'll remain in awe of how you managed to find exactly what I had failed to.  My house, my father, and I as well, remain loyal to you.  - Y/n Bolton

"My lord?" One of the men asked lightly.

Cregan looked up from the letter.  "Write urgently to Lord Bolton. I have an offer."

Cregan tutted lightly when Rickon reached out for the letter. "Easy, son. This is your father's keepsake."

…

My dear lady,  I fear writing yet another letter to you may be deemed inappropriate to some, but they do not understand the kinship we share.  My son grows by the day, and still, I remember the day you and I met so starkly.  Take this gift, and dare I ask that you think of me when you wear it. - A content father

The bottom of the letter was all scribbles and scratches from the quill, no doubt something that his son had added. It made her heart warm, like perhaps maybe the babe was trying to say something to her as well.

Her eyes wandered to the dress that he had gifted. A Stark blue. She thought it perhaps a bit too bold for the man, but she wouldn't deny his wishes. 

Her father may question it, but he couldn't refuse such a thing. 

She took out a quill.

…

I am starting to believe that you have overdone your gratitude. I fear as a young lady, I have not much to give, but perhaps it is true that the thought of a gift is greater than the price or amount of the object itself. I find that this specific type of fabric strips make for wonderful ties for the hair. I mean no harm, but I did notice the way you grew annoyed at the hair in your eyesight when we met.  I'm going to send this now before I realize the intent of my actions and grow embarrassed.  Do tell your son I enjoyed his drawings per your last letter. - Y/n Bolton

Cregan held the fabric strips in his hand, rubbing the soft material. 

How ink on a page could make his heart feel alive, he wasn't sure.

…

Cregan spent the next two days in contemplation. 

While he wanted to immediately write her back, he knew that he should wait. The letter to her father surely arrived at that point, and he didn't wish to seem overly hasty.

But when another letter from her arrived, he almost ripped it in earnest to view its contents.

I fear our letters must come to an end.  My father had spoken of a marriage proposal and it seems quite unladylike to be writing such letters. Though we two know of our kinship, I fear it is unfair to my future betrothed.  Please forgive me, and know that this was not of my choosing.  - Y/n

He paused at her lack of a last name. 

She wrote as if she had no idea. Her father hadn't told her the entire truth. 

He leaned back in his chair and placed his hands over his eyes. He wanted to ease her worries, tell her the truth, but it was not yet his place, and he was to wait for her father's response. 

But it ate at him. What if Bolton was truly marrying her to another? It made him sick. 

There was a sound in the doorway. 

Cregan looked up to see Rickon standing with his toy on ground, obviously fallen from his hand. He smiled at him, "Hello, son."

Rickon took his time leaning down to get his horse, then took steps around the long table until he got to his father. 

Cregan waited patiently, not wanting to rush or correct his boy, but once Rickon was close enough, he reached out and held him up in the air. The little son's squeals filled him with joy. He brought him down to kiss the boy's cheek then set him on his lap to face him. "What have you been doing, my boy?"

Rickon set his horse on Cregan's chest, his attention enamored on it. 

The lord brushed his son's hair from his face with a longing look. "Think I'll get to hear that voice anytime soon?"

Rickon hit his horse against the man's chest, causing a sigh to come from his father. 

"Well, maybe eventually, hm?"

Everything sat in such uncertainty. He only hoped that it all worked out as he had planned it.

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

A/n: part 2

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[kerryweaverlesbian]

Oh god exhausted Dean in season 5 on Bobby's couch nodding off on Cas's shoulder after a night of insomnia spent talking. Bobby spying them as he quietly comes down for a beer (he's got plenty of shit going on in his head too). Castiel looking with such careful awe at Dean's sleeping face. Oh. So it's like that.

Castiel only flicks his eyes up to Bobby's when he lays a blanket over Dean, and he doesn't change position. Good.

"You taking care of my boy?" Bobby says, quiet as he can without it turning into a whisper (which would definitely wake Dean).

It takes a beat, Castiel's gaze tracking down to Dean, but he answers, "Yes." With appropriate decisiveness.

"He's put a lot of trust in you. We all have."

"Yes. I do not bear it lightly."

"Right answer.

"I feel sometimes...I fear our efforts will not be enough. I fear that certain people are becoming too precious for me to lose."

"Welcome to humanity, angel."

Cas shakes his head with a faint smile, suddenly looking more like a guy you might see at the gas station than a celestial being, but then he settles back into austere. "I am welcomed every time I complain. I wish there were less to complain about."

"You and every unlucky sucker on this craphole we call a planet. There's plenty good around too though."

A snuffle from Dean which turns into half a snore into Cas's shoulder get both of their attention, so Bobby only catches a flicker of Cas’s smile before he schools it neutral. The air's so sweet, Bobby's going to end up with toothache if he stays here too much longer.

"He'll thank you to wake him up before Sam gets down," Bobby tells him, and Cas’s nod is serious. Maybe he already knows. How often has this happened? What's that boy been telling him? For his own peace of mind, he adds: "Ain't nothing to be ashamed of, you hear that? Alls I'm saying is to be careful."

Castiel's head tips to the side just a little, and he gets that look Dean complains of all the time, like he's examining the contents of your soul through the eyes. Then he blinks, and they've reached an understanding. "Thank you."

Bobby waves it away, then slopes back towards bed with a final "'Night Cas. Give my regards to Seeping Beauty."

On his way up the stairs, he hears Castiel murmer, "Goodnight, Dean." and he huffs a tired laugh. Maybe they're not going to do too bad out of this Apocalypse after all.

[buckyalpine]

18+ af, minors dni. Dub con elements, please ignore if it's not your thing. Back at it with a dark Bucky who has the biggest corruption kink and loves to manipulate the sweet doll across the hall who makes him have the most unholy thoughts. He can't help how badly he craves for her to take care of him, comfort him, all while he pretends he has no idea what's happening with his body after all the abuse from Hydra. His mind is too fried. He's just too innocent with so many big feelings. So many big, thick, achy, leaky feelings-

Oop-

It started off with small things. Patching him up after a rough mission. Making him dinner. Feeding him. Falling asleep in her lap. Seeking her out when he has bad dreams. Calling her mommy when he was especially needy and just wanted to be held. Feel extra close. Around her, he's just a clingy little baby Bucky who loves to nurse from his pretty mommy for comfort.

It's all perfectly innocent. Sometimes after a nightmare. Sometimes before bed. Her nipples are so warm against his tongue, his pink lips sealed around every bit of her peaked bud. Who was she to deny him with the way he cuddled his face into her chest with the quietest "Mommy, please?"

Of course she lets him take her top off, it's nothing sexual, purely to comfort him, his gentle gurgles quickly turning into soft snores within minutes.

She'd always take care of him.

Like now when you were watching tv, lounging in a loose tank top. He splays himself across your lap and you idly play with his hair while he gets comfy, only wearing his boxers. He’s so cute and precious, reaching up to latch onto your breasts, tugging at your top so you'd take it off. He nuzzles his face in, struggling to maintain his facade of just needing to be held, no longer able to ignore the way his cock needed attention too.

You're so used to letting him take what he needs, you don't notice his extra squirming, still focused on your show until he takes your hand to show you where he actually needs you.

"Mommy, it’s hard" he whines while your eyes grow wide. It's always fuckin' hard around you, pretty girl.

He’d never done that before, spreading his thighs further so you could see where he needed you most, blinking up at you innocently while his thick cock pressed against the fabric, rubbing your hand over his bulge.

"B-Baby?"

"Mommy, help" he continues to pout before going back to sucking while shoving your hand down his boxers to his achy erection. You feel your heart beat out of your chest with your hand now wrapped around his velvety shaft, absolutely torn over what to do. It wasn't his fault his body was reacting this way. He was asking the one person he felt safe around to take care of him. He obviously didn't know any better.

God, you felt awful over how frustrated he would have felt not knowing who else to turn to when he was in such a cloudy headspace. You stay frozen until he puts his hand over yours, showing you how to touch him, stroking up and down with just the right pressure.

"S-sometimes I do this by myself" He moans between tugging your nipples between his lips, lifting his hips up to take off his briefs. His balls are heavy between his thighs, full and aching after waiting months for this very moment. "It feels good, is it bad?"

"No sweet boy, it's normal" You coo, giving him exactly what he wants while his body runs hot, his hips rutting up to chase more of your soft hand, "I got you, don't worry, relax Jamie" You pet his hair while stroking his cock, his mouth working between your breasts, lost in his own world. Even now, he looked so innocent, a deep blush on his cheeks while you made him feel good, it was going to take years to help him remember-

"It feels good here mommy" He wraps your hand around his dripping, swollen head, his hips pushing up, eyes nearly rolling back at the way his cock feels in your hand. He knows he's gonna blow-

"R-right there, m'gonna-make a mess" He moans between a shy pout and of course you reassure him you'll clean him right up because he's doing nothing wrong and all of this was perfectly natural. His body was responding to touch exactly the way it had to, he was safe with you-

"MMPHHHH" He cries out as the first stream shoots out, load after load still pouring out of his stiff cock. You wipe him down and he spends the rest of the night cuddled up with soft blankets, hiding his smirk with his face tucked into your neck while you rub his back.

I could stop here but just imagine what happens when he decides to get more bold.

"Do you ever feel like this?" He asks innocently and you nearly squeak in surprise. He waits intently for an answer and you pause before answering, carefully considering your words.

"Um, sometimes baby"

Liar, he thinks. I hear you pretty girl, always playing with that pretty pussy thinking I can't hear you.

"Can I help you?" You swear his voice drops an octave and so does your stomach. It felt so fucking wrong, why were you responding to him like this, he wasn't thinking clearly and you were getting turned on-"Like how you helped me?"

"No! No Jamie, you-you don't have to"

Oh, but he wants to because you're so good to him and it's not fair he doesn't help you too. That's how he manages to get you naked and spread out on his bed, shoving his cock in your pussy.

"M'I doing it right?" He still looks at you with the sweetest lost expression but you can't help but notice there's something darker in his eyes. His whines melt into groans, his pace growing faster. "M'so hard mommy"

"J-Jamie, I-" You're so confused over what to do, moans escaping your lips, your pussy swallowing his cock back in each time he thrusts.

"Tell me to stop mommy" You swear you hear a smirk in his voice, his movements suddenly more calculated, his hips perfectly rolling to hit that spot your fingers can never reach, "Tell Jamie to stop"

"St-Jamie, oh God" You pant, your orgasm barreling towards you and you want to scream stop because something is off but his hands snake between your bodies and he finds your clit- "Please!"

"M'gonna think about this when I touch myself, mommy" He rubs you faster, needing you to cum instead of worrying your pretty head, "Can I? Can I think of you when I make a mess? M'gonna make one now, I-

He couldn't wait for you to tell him why your belly would be getting bigger and bigger over the next few months.

Lord I'm sorry.

[rowarn]

pls I would kill to have you elaborate on simon going stupid when you ride him🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️ I love my men dummy stupid for pussy

RUBBING MY HANDS TOGETHER LIKE A FLY

what i picture is simon, fresh off deployment. he's exhausted. the dark circles under his eyes are apparent. the weight on his shoulders is visible. the poor man just looks run down, like he could crawl into bed and sleep for 2 and a half weeks.

the ONLY thing that's keeping him up is you. so soft and sweet, letting him pull you into his lap and lazily paw at you. you let him clumsily strip your clothes off and pull his cock out even tho he's too tired and foggy to prep you properly. you have to do it yourself ): and he'll make it up to you in a few days when he's recharged and back to his old self but for now your own smaller fingers will have to suffice.

his eyes are so heavy, he's practically falling asleep while he waits for you to sink down on him.

and he's so pliant when you do ): just lets his head fall back against the couch, brown eyes rolled back into his skull and moans being punched out of his chest every time you drop your weight back down and swallow every inch of his cock.

his hands hold your hips, kneading the soft flesh there. his fingers gently caress your skin, hoping you'll understand that he's sorry he can't do more for you but he just doesn't have it in him to do anything except take right now </3

so you ride him, creaming his cock while he can do nothing but moan and gasp, drool dripping down his lips because he can't even bring himself to close his mouth. it just feels too good, having a tight, hot little cunt wrapped around his fat cock when he's this sensitive and unguarded.

he babbles abt how good it feels, how hot and wet you are and how tight you feel. it's so good, he can't fucking think. all he knows is you're creaming and dripping down his balls and it makes his mouth water so bad thay he wants to cry because of how badly he wants to eat your pretty cunt out </3

it's really the ONLY time you get to see him like this ): the only time you get to have some semblance of control. but don't get too carried away, simon is vulnerable and fragile in this state - trusting you to not push him too far, not to tease him. just give him what he so badly needs and wants and he'll fill you up the biggest load you'll get until the next deployment when you'll get to do this all over again!!!

and don't worry if he cums too soon (he might!!!!) because you can just ride him until you're cumming all over him. do it as many times as you want, wring orgasm after orgasm out the both of you until his eyes inevitably flutter closed and blissful snores finally come from him <3 fully at peace <3

until he's recharged and finally get the energy to pay you back for bein so sweet for him and giving him your precious lil cunt. hell thank you by fucking you unconscious into the mattress in return <333333333333

[alexthetrashyracoon]

“Simonnnnnnnn!”

“Siiiiiiiiimooooooon!”

“Come on you lazy ass…”

Oh how much Simon had to love you, to be waking up and not straight up murdering you for taking him from his precious sleep right now. “What is it, lovely?” He asked, still huddled under the blanket, eyes closed. He hadn’t budged.

“If I were …” You cut yourself up with a hiccup. Oh yeah, you had been out with your friends, you had probably one or two drinks too many. What weird question would come now? “If I were a worm…”

Oh yeah, okay, you were clearly drunk.

“I would love you, lovely, if you were a worm. Or a Swiss cheese. Or just an atom, even though that would be hard but I would still love you. Now, why don’t you get changed and…”

“Now you’re mad at me!” You complain and throw your pillow at his face, probably pouting so adorably like you always do.

Simon sat finally up and turned to meet your hazy gaze, you had trouble focusing on anything, always swaying and Simon decided enough is enough, helps you lay down and tugs the blanket over you, he makes sure you can’t move and accidentally hurt yourself. “Darling, I couldn’t be mad at you even if you…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence when he heard the snoring coming from your side. He grinned and shook his head and brushed a strand of hair from your face. “The hungover will be a nightmare tomorrow, love.”

He’s a good boyfriend and grabs you some aspirin and a bottle of water for the morning before slipping back into bed and falling asleep too.

(I am actually out of ideas on what to write atm, so sorry when I don’t post quite as often) (don’t even know why I’m apologizing, bad habit from bad old Twitter times I guess)

[gremlingottoosilly]

Kidnapper! König x sick user? Perhaps they came down with a cold from being in the chilly basement

Konig is a natural heater and barely ever got sick from anything that wasn't a bullet straight to important bits of his body. As a result, you now have this giant man holding you close at all times, relocating you to his bedroom instead of the basement, and always keeping a warm hand somewhere on your body so you'd never get cold as long as he is around. Konig blames himself for letting you fall ill - maybe, it was a punishment where he'd take away your blanket privileges. Maybe he accidentally broke the heater downstairs as he was trying to force-feed you something nice and nutritious and laced with sleep medicine. Maybe it was just an accident without any particular reason - but you're still ill, and he still feels guilty. He kisses your damp forehead and promises to take better care of you, to let you stay upstairs until you're fully recovered...and if you're a good girl, maybe even for longer. He feeds you some delivered chicken soup and makes sure you're eating everything that he gives you, no matter how full you are. He knows you're a pretty, needy thing, and you're too fragile at this point - so he tries his best to be a good caregiver, although deep down, he is kinda crushed that he let you get sick on his watch. Who knew that taking care of captives is so hard - he can only think about how pretty you look in his bed, too exhausted to meaningfully resist. How utterly precious you are. Konig kinda likes keeping you so weak - it makes him powerful. Important. Makes him feel like he is ready to crush down mountains if it means keeping you snoring next to him, your face nuzzling in his chest. He doesn't even care about possibly getting sick - he just wants to hold you close and damn be your illness. He is way too tough for a common cold, so you can be sure that your captor won't be leaving your side any time soon.

[forlix]

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.2k / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・chan x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, berry being the perfect girl she is. inspired by these bubble messages and @cosmic-railwayxo's treachery. (love u deni)

𝟬𝟲:𝟯𝟲 — “Where’s my baby, hm?”

This is the question on Chan’s lips the moment he lets go of the bedroom door, closed with agonizing caution as to not wake the figure still curled up under the duvet inside.

It’s early. Early enough so the walls are colored a rich beige by new rays of sunlight, so his footsteps are the only sound reverberating around the hallways when he commences his search. Early enough to evidence how he was only bestowed a few hours of sleep before waking up with a budding headache and leaden eyelids.

But he doesn’t mind the lack of rest, not this time. Not when there’s a wad of love with a freckled snout and floppy ears under the same roof for the first time in too long.

“Berry?” Chan calls, his voice tattered and low, like sandpaper. He rakes his eyes over the spots he remembers to be her favorite. Maybe they’ve changed since he was last home. Maybe everything has changed since he was last home.

The thought causes a familiar pang to go off within him, poignant and powerful, but the quiet scuffle of paws against hardwood takes the edge off the guilt straightaway.

Chan finds the beginnings of a smile on his lips before she even rounds the corner, and when she does, well. His grin might as well split his face down the middle. He’s on his knees in seconds, outstretched hands rediscovering home in the puppy’s silky fur as she clambers onto him with blown pupils and excited pants.

His adoring coos of her name falter into muted laughter, which then fragments into a sob. His vision narrows to his precious girl and then starts to blur. When Berry climbs up to give his cheek a few happy licks, she’s fascinated by its saltiness.

You emerge from the bedroom a little over an hour later. Sleeping is hard enough when you’re jetlagged, and even harder when there’s only mattress where you remember Chan’s warm solidity to be. The fabric of Chan’s hoodie suppresses your vocalization of his name as you ungracefully pull it over your torso, still struggling to rouse your body from sleep.

Your beckon produces no response. You wrap a hand around the nearest door frame and peek your head into the living room, a little more alert now.

“Chan? Baby?”

You feel silly. How many visits has it been for you to still feel this nervous, wandering around Chan’s family home? Yet you undoubtedly are, whether because of your absentee boyfriend or that his whole family is a few walls away. You pad through the silent abode with mounting trepidation and intense care to not make any more sound than necessary.

Then you reach the family room and instantly come to a standstill, hands drifting to your sides, features deliquescing to a soft smile. 

Lying on the nearest couch is your boyfriend, head propped up on top of his elbow, his fluttering lashes and gently oscillating shoulders indicating that he’s asleep. You can’t see his face below his eyes, as he has his nose nuzzled into the Cavalier spaniel resting securely in his arms, snoring tacitly into his sleeve, slumbering as deeply as her human companion.

You’ve been stumbling upon Chan sleeping in unexpected places for the better part of two years now, but you still liquefy every time as if it’s the first. These are the moments, you’ve come to realize, when you can care for him in ways he would never let you while conscious: a lift of his laptop off his thighs, a brush of your lips against his hairline, a cardigan draped lightly over his back. These are the moments when you understand in full how far you’ve come together, for him to trust you with his exhaustion with such transparency, to be so vulnerable as to leave you with memories of him that he’ll never have.

Despite your prolonged experience, it’s hard to describe what exactly you’re feeling in this moment. The mere mention of Berry has always dissipated the shadows that veil his face, has always chased off the burdens that cling to his spine. How do you put it into words, seeing your happiness at his happiest?

It suddenly occurs to you that the window beside them is cracked open. That, and you spotted extra quilts in the top shelf of Chan’s closet last night.

Chan’s eyelids lift when he feels the gentle weight of a blanket fall upon his body; so do the corners of his lips, when the culprit materializes before him. Sitting on the edge of the couch, a hand hovering over his frame, face creased into a flinch.

“Sorry,” you whisper, closing the distance between your fingers and the curve of his neck. The pad of your thumb moves over his cheekbone like a willow branch skimming water. “I didn’t think that would wake you up.”

Both of you up, you mentally amend, seeing as Berry has noticed your presence and is wagging her tail with enough vigor for it to thump against Chan’s chest. He lets her wriggle out of his arms and into yours; you emit a noise of glee and gather her into you.

If only you had seen the expression he wears then, watching your eyes scrunch closed at the frenzied kisses she presses to your face. His first love and his very last.

“Don’t apologize,” he answers. “I’m the one who should be sorry for leaving you in bed, I just…”

His voice trails off, but he knows by the softness in your irises when they meet his that you already know.

You move like clockwork. Chan presses up into the back of the couch, the quilt’s edge lifted in wordless invitation. It is your chest that Berry burrows into this time, the top of her head sliding into the space between your chin and the sofa’s cushion. It is Chan’s chest that you’re folded into, the arms around your waist like the coziest of cabins in a sun-spattered wood. It is the back of your neck that he nuzzles his nose into, but not before he litters gossamer kisses across the expanse of skin, as if printing the notes to a lullaby he knows well.

Everything is warm, so warm, so right, and jetlag starts to feel like a distant trouble.

You open your mouth while teetering on the cusp of a dream.

“Baby?” 

He hums into you, listening.

“Always be happy, okay?”

You don’t notice the solitary tear that traverses the bridge of his nose, lands in the cotton of your hood, and dyes the bunched-up fabric a few shades darker. You don’t notice how his embrace around you tightens marginally, like how one’s eyes can’t help but find their dearest possession when the building’s on fire.

“Okay,” he whispers, and kisses your nape once more. Your and Chan’s eyes close together. Berry licks your chin again, then follows suit.

(Another hour later, Chan’s parents walk into the family room. They decide to go out to breakfast for fear of making too much noise in the kitchen, Chan’s mother blotting away tears as she ducks into shotgun, Chan’s father laughing at her sentimentality while blinking back his own.

Another few hours later, Hannah takes maybe fifty-some photographs of the triad of unmoving heaps occupying their couch. Then she grumbles at Berry for being dead asleep at eleven in the morning: “Those two arrived here from across the world yesterday. What’s your excuse?”)

🔖 (send an ask or reply to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・ @automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8

© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support.

[kenjakusbraincum]

Canary

Sukuna x Reader

Synopsis: Exploring the idea of sleeping next to Sukuna!!

Word count: 1k

Tags/Warnings: An extremely short nsfw scene towards the end. That's all :)

He keeps you locked in a cage. His little bird, his precious pet - delicate and ignorant to the dangers of the world. You are perfect, curious but pliant, wild but tame. It would be a pity to lose you... but that's not a concern. Sukuna is a man of culture, a collector. He knows how to keep things.

At daytime your cage is Sukuna's mansion, and at night, it's his arms. He holds you tight, four arms wrapping over your smaller body like vines. He says it's to make sure you don't run away, but both of you know such a thing is not possible, even when he isn't clutching you to himself in bed. Even when he isn't there, even though his estate has no fence or barrier in sight... you know there is no such thing as running away.

You spent many nights terrified, sure that he was going to kill you when you fell asleep - whether that would be intentionally, or by accidentally crushing or suffocating you with his weight. But to your surprise, Sukuna was actually quite careful with you in bed - allowing you to toss and turn in his embrace, look for a comfortable position, sometimes even asking you why you can't sleep. It's not that he doesn't know why, doesn't sense your terror and even thrives in it's presence, it's just that he finds it particularly cute that you try to hide it. You tell him you've had a nap, that you're scared of a bad dream or that you're too hot or cold to fall asleep. And he complies, adjusting the blankets to your needs and telling you you have nothing to fear - the most dangerous creature is already lying next to you.

You don't know at which point Sukuna stopped holding you for security, and started holding you for his own comfort. As godly as Sukuna is in his prowess, he is but a man. He dreams. You lay next to him and observe his face, almost pitying him for frowning even when he's resting. It makes you wonder when he gets to rest, actually rest, when he gets to smile. You watch his four eyelids twitch, and wonder what he dreams of. Does he dream of people bothering him? Disrespecting him? Or maybe all the atrocities he commits during the day come back to him at night. Sometimes his hand or arm will flinch and startle you. Sometimes he wakes up in panic, and only resets his serious face when he sees you laying next to him, clutching the sheets and looking at him with big worried eyes. You think it's because he doesn't want you to see him vulnerable. He thinks it's because your presence calms him down.

You learn exactly when he falls asleep. His breathing changes, gets deeper and more audible. He snores sometimes, groans or mumbles something nonsensical, but even then, he is a light sleeper. Sometimes as little as you turning around will wake one set of his eyes up. It makes you feel bad for moving, really. You wonder if he gets any quality sleep next to you at all.

Because you are a nuisance. Constantly waking up because it's hot or cold, needing to pee, hungry or thirsty. Most of these urges you'd try to ignore, but inevitably you'd still loom awake until tiredness won you over. The first time you woke up needing the bathroom, you hesitated to wake Sukuna and ask for permission for so long that you were sure your bladder was going to burst at any moment. After putting a lot of thought into how exactly you were going to wake him up, you settled for touching his shoulder. You wanted to shake him, but you couldn't help your hand lingering, feeling the heat of his skin and the thick muscle under it. Even though you sleep with him every night, it's not often that you get to touch him, or enjoy an innocent intimate moment. Sukuna's hold on you isn't intimate or gentle, it's a crate, a wired fence.

So you touch him and he... does nothing. He doesn't recognize your touch as a sign of danger. He doesn't sit up or flinch, and his breathing doesn't change. Then you shake him lightly, hoping it won't cause alarm. His eyes peep open and he props himself up to one elbow. He's not groggy or lost, he's listening.

"I need to pee.", you whisper.

He blinks at you. "You have one minute."

You furrow your brows for a moment, and then realize you have no time to waste. You get up and run to the toilet, counting seconds and forcing yourself to be as quick as possible. On your way back to Sukuna's bedroom, you find him ominously looming at the doors and looking in your direction. His monstrous frame looks like it barely fits through the frame, but when you approach him, he looks sleepy. You fix your best puppy eyes and look up at him.

"How am I late? I counted.", you pout.

"You're bad at counting.", he answers, and his hand on your back ushers you back into the bedroom. Once you're settled back under the sheets, his hands start to wander, lips start to taste your skin, and before you know it you're making love again. This time it's slow, sloppy, effortless. Sukuna is tired, his thrusts don't make a lot of sense, but his hand massaging your clit makes up for it. Your neck is wet from his kisses and nibbles, and he grunts into your ear - primal and helpless to the pleasure you provide him with. It is a rare occasion in which sex with Sukuna feels human. Before falling asleep again, his hands still trace the shape of your body, settling on to warming your breast. Afterwards, the memory of everything starts to feel like a happy dream.

He still waits for you though. Every time you needed something at night, he waits for you at the door. You don't understand what he's afraid of. You don't understand the world you live in, after all, you are just his sheltered little pet. When he stops waiting at the door, you see him sitting in bed. When he stops sitting in bed, he keeps an eye open until you return. But he is always, always awake until you're back.

"You didn't come looking for me.", you say as you lay back next to him, wiggling into his reach.

"I don't need to.", he says, wrapping the blanket around you and pulling you to him. "I know you won't run away."

[jakesangel]

jake x sleepy reader ꣑୧ - requested

jake adores how sleepy you always get. that means endless cuddles as you always want to sleep in his arms, so from time to time, he uses it as his avantage. he loves outdoor dates, but seeing your sleepy figures always warms his heart and, further more, you sleeping on him makes him aware that you're safe w him, n makes him feel like he is your protecteur. he would find it so endearing how you alwasy fall asleep on his shoulder when using the bus to go back home, or building legos w him.

after eating jake would always offer you to watch a movie on the couch to get to cuddle you til you fall asleep digest correctly. he would also let you pick the movie, tho you're gonna fall asleep early he knows it he also knows he won't focus on it but you sleeping, while he picks a plaid n some soft pillows. he knows how you like to fall asleep, both of you laid down, two pillows under his head, his chest under yours. he would keep a hand rubbing your back, waiting for you the fall asleep. and as he hears your soft snores, your slow breath hitting his chin, his heartbeat will go faster, adoration filling his body. my love, he would coo, you're always so adorable. what i am gonna do with you, he would add as his other hand would remove a piece of hair off your face so you could sleep better or more like he can see you better. and with such sight, his prettiest angel, sleeping on his chest, he can't help but trace your features before kissing your forehead, finally closing his eyes, wanting to fully give you his love even if he knows that you aren't conscious to feel it. you sleeping on him also helps him to deliver soft words as he gets shy to communicate his overflowing fondness, i love you so munch baby, you're my favorite part of the day, he would softly whisper a stupid smile on his face.

had a nice nap ? or you're finally awake, you slept for a long time baby, would be sweetly said as you wake up. if you try to get up, going to the bathroom reasons or eating reasons, he wouldn't let you do so it's too early to get up, let's stay a little longer mmmh as he bring your head closer to his chest, his hand stroking your hair. my precious baby, always so sleepy so adorable. he would say, looking up the ceiling, as the sight, of his pretty baby, is too much for him.

notes : hai anon > < i'm sorry it took this munch time i still hope you like it ᵎᵎ please lemme kno it the inbox <3

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @stwrjvke @amouriu @neos127 @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll @heeheeswifey @iikeustar @txnwvc @oopshee

[konigsblog]

Getting fucked while wearing konigs shirt....yeah.....

tw: somnophilia, non-con/dub-con. 💤

considering this man is headcannoned to be around 6’10” tall, his clothes would be massive on you.

könig has a fetish for it; seeing you draped in his large clothes, falling asleep in a sweatshirt of his, covering your body that he craves and desires so desperately.

to his surprise, you're not wearing any panties. it's a sight könig can't get out of his head, and even if you're just best friends, he can't himself from exploring further — hands wandering upwards to your precious tits, his large, calloused and cold hands against your warm breasts leaving your nipples perky and hard between his fingers, giving them a little twist as he grinds his clothed boner against your ass.

he'll roll his sweatshirt up, enough where he's able to spread your thighs, wrapping his arms around your figure to pull you close. he can almost hear the sound of your heartbeat rhythm, pounding against your ribs as he rubs your swollen folds in small circles, watching your every reaction as his dick hardens at the sight.

spreading your thighs, he begins to take his weeping dick out. fuck, by the time he's freed his lengthy dick from the confines of his boxers, he's leaking like a faucet all down his fingers. fat globs of his hot semen are smeared along your slit, using it as lube to push deep inside, stretching you out with his aching length.

you look so relaxed and peaceful, the sounds of your snoring slightly audible as he presses his face into the crook of your neck. his brain feels like mush as he huffs at the faint scent of your perfume against your neck, and the essence of your shampoo in your hair. the feeling of your gummy, slick and warm cunt around his meaty dick leaves könig feeling as if he's on cloud nine, unable to control the way his broad hips buck into your soft figure.

his fingernails leave indents along your flesh, gripping a firm hold of your soft thighs as he grinds his strong hips against your rear, panting beside your ear as he admires the sight of you one last time before he uses your tight pussy as an outlet for his hot load.

the sight of his clothes covering your figure, looking so comfortable and snug in his clothes, the smell of his cologne and musk still lingering on the material leaving him feral and possessive. his balls become tight and sore with each thrust, the desperation inside of könig only growing as he feels his shaft twitch and pulsate before shooting spurts of his arousal all inside the warmth of your cunt.

fuck... he could stay there forever, really — the warmth and tightness of your hole, so slick and so wet, something so familiar to könig, but so new for you. if only you knew how often he does this, how guilt churns in his gut everytime he's fucked himself stupid using your cunt... :(

[temiizpalace]

☆┆MY LAST NAME BELONGS TO YOU!

SUMMARY: writing your name out, with his last name!

CHARACTERS: basketball club + azul and leona

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: reader is referred to as [mc] – not really a warning, just kinda cringe – mentions of pursuing marriage in floyd and azuls part

ROMANTIC, RELATIONSHIP IS UP TO READER

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

♥️┆ACE TRAPPOLA

“man, this stinks..”

ace whispered under his breath as professor trein droned on with the lesson. he was struggling to keep his eyes open. as much as he wanted to just fall asleep in the middle of the lesson, he really really didn’t want to add to his homework pile.

that’s just more precious hours of his day wasted. all the repetitive sounds were oddly enough lulling him to sleep. the grating sounds of grim snoring, the weird twang noise deuces rubber band was making, and the sounds of pencils writing against paper.

“hey deucy, make sure not to fall asleep.” he whispered to ace, as if he wasn’t about to do the same. deuce gives him a look, about to open his mouth before trein had looked in their direction. ending their banter immediately.

to keep himself awake, ace started doodling in his notebook. not in the corner as most would, no he began doodling on a brand new sheet of paper. curious as to what you were doing, it seems you were notetaking at first.

but getting a closer look, you were doing the same as him. doodling in the notebook, barely paying attention to the lesson. he snickered, deep down grateful that he wasn’t the only one not paying attention.

‘hah. look at that idiot, not paying attention. they’d have to work twice as hard without magic. hehe.’ ace thought, shifting his attention to staring at you. though he was focused on you, his hands still mindlessly doodled across the page. completely unaware of what he was writing.

deuce glances over his shoulder, eyes widening at what he managed to read. “ace?! i.. i never would’ve thought this was your level of dedication..” deuce says to ace, confusing the boy. “eh? deuce what are you talking about—“

ace looks at the paper. his handwriting was messy since he wasn’t paying attention but it was certainly legible.

[MC] TRAPPOLA

he shuts the notebook hastily, emitting a loud thud noise to echo in the classroom. all eyes were on him. including yours. he whistles as if nothing happened, face flushed a light pink color. trein grunts, and continues on with the lesson.

🦁┆LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

“how’d i get stuck here..”

leona mumbles, sitting at his desk in what felt like forever. his plans to skip were officially ruined as you dragged him to his classroom before he could make it to the botanical garden. usually he’d just brush off anybody getting in his way of a good nap, but you looked so persistent in getting him here.

so begrudgingly, he took his seat in class with a huff as the professor continued his lesson. does he regret it? sort of. you looked satisfied and proud when he listened to you, so he’ll oblige for now. he can just ask for a reward later as a thanks for his compliance. he’s mentally making a list of things you could do for him..

joining him for his afternoon nap, fetching him lunch, coming to a spelldrive club practice, the list goes on. his blissful thoughts were then interrupted as the professor placed a paper worksheet in front of him. a worksheet? those are barely ever given out to students..

“kingscholar, this is a sheet of things you must catch up on as a result of your frequent absences. surely you can finish this by the end of the week since you seem to have much free time.” the professor spoke, handing him a pencil and leaving him off to writing.

“haah.. I shouldn’t have listened to that damn herbivore.” he sighs, slouching in his seat and reviewing the sheet in front of him. ‘i already know all this..’ leona thinks, stretching his arms out getting ready to nap. the least he could do is write out his name and do the rest when he feels like it. instead of his name, it was something else entirely.

[MC] KINGSCHOLAR

his ears drop down, his eyes widened, and his cheeks got darker. he followed his first instinct and crumbled the worksheet, ensuring nobody could read what he had just written. the professor glares at him and makes his way over to his seat. “mr. kingscholar.. i hope you know that’d be a rather large part of your grade. we wouldn’t want you to be held back another, would we?”

“tch..” leona scoffs, trying to look away from any of the attention he was receiving. the class ends as soon as it has started, thankfully with no more incidents. leona was just glad nobody has seen what he has written and that he can escape this situation as quickly as possible.. or so he thought.

“roi du leon!” an all too familiar face calls out.

oh no.

🐙┆AZUL ASHENGROTTO

azul sat in his office, filing through the contracts he had made in the past month. many let their minds wander when sitting at a desk for 2 hours or so, and azul is no exception.

eventually growing bored and tired of looking through the deals he made, he took out a notepad and simply wrote out his thoughts. at first he thought this was a dumb idea, but his mother insisted he try it and it has been working ever since.

his mind always felt at ease once the notebook was pulled out. but today felt a little different. he was happy, but today he felt more excited than anything.

he had a dumb lovestruck smile on his face, lightly giggling as he wrote. what on earth? his face was flushed and warm, but he didn’t mind it one bit.

[MC] ASHENGROTTO

he would’ve never thought something so simple would’ve gotten him so worked up. it was just your name and his surname. what was so special?

that’s what he would’ve thought in the past. now, he began to imagine a future of you and him in the coral sea.. a house together.. you meeting his mother.. his stepfather.. it made him feel all giddy. like a schoolgirl if you will.

his love fantasies were inevitably cut short as he heard a knock on the door. “ne, azul. shrimpy is here to see ya.”

panicked that you and floyd might see his notes, he hurriedly opened his drawer and slams it shut. the thud can be heard on the other side of the door, confusing you. “a-ahem.. come in!”

as he saw you, his fantasies began to boot back up. a wedding.. dates at mostro lounge.. it sounded like paradise. every fiber of his being was fighting the primal urge to make you a sign a contract. a contract in which you’d agree to be his life partner. forever, and ever.

🦈┆FLOYD LEECH

not feeling like attending classes, floyd skipped out on the lesson. he knows he’d get scolded by azul later, but if he doesn’t feel like going he don’t wanna.

since you were in classes, the teachers had pushed him out before he even got to you. even despite his protests! floyd complains at the closed door, trying to open it back up.

“eh? why can’t i just take shrimpy and go? lessons are borin’ anyway.” he complains, causing you to hide your head from all the eyes staring at you. all this attention pointed more at you than at floyd..

“leech.. that’s quite enough. go back to your class and come back for this.. “shrimpy” later. interrupting a lesson is NOT what a mage of the future should be doing.” the teacher retorts, now ignoring floyd and his remarks.

“tch.” getting tired of trying to pull you out, floyd retreats to his room in octavinelle. he flopped onto his bed, a pen in hand and a notebook in front of him. jade said drawing is a good time killer or whatever, so he’ll do just that. in all honesty, it won’t take long for him to get bored of this activity and look for something else.

floyd being floyd, just wrote or drew whatever first came to mind. there were tiny drawings of shrimps all over the page. an occasional eel to be seen next to it. he laughed and smiled looking at the page before him. “ehe.. there are shrimpys all over this paper—!”

he writes out another thought that came to his mind. it wasn’t a shrimp drawing, neither was it an eel. the handwriting was slightly shaking being on an uneven and unstable surface, but you can tell what it says.

[MC] LEECH

[MC]? ohhh, that’s your name! leech? that’s his last name! he didn’t truly process what he had wrote, but he knew the implications of it. you being a leech.. to change your last name..

you typically marry a person of interest.. and that person of interest typically inherits the others last name..

hey! person of interest is you! you’re his person of interest! just wait shrimpy! you better save that ring finger just for him!

and 5 minutes later he gets bored, tosses the notebook to the side and goes back to terrorize your classroom again.

🐍┆JAMIL VIPER

jamil sat in the scarabia lounge, finally finishing up dinner for the day. kalim was held up in club activities, and basketball practice has been cancelled due to the fact over half of the members were injured thanks to floyd and aces negligence.

this was a rare moment where he actually had time to himself. nobody to interrupt him in his peaceful state of mind. jamil walked over to his room, locking the door behind him and laying flat onto his bed.

he stares up at the ceiling, unsure what to do with this free time. homework? no he already did it all. check up on kalim? no, why would he ruin his moment of peace like that. check up on you? …

what a ridiculous idea. he doesn’t have time for that. well he does but.. ugh. having time to himself isn’t as relaxing as he made it out to be. especially considering he never had a moment to himself in forever.

jamil figured to keep himself occupied, he can make a bucket list. many people make bucket lists, surely this’ll help him plan his future, right? he grabs a pen and a sheet of paper and began to brainstorm.

obviously seeing the world is one of them. that’s something he wanted to do for as long as he could remember. his mind blanks. so far, his only desire was to travel. far far away from kalim. a thought occurred in his mind.

“..they have to be putting a spell on me or something.” jamil mutters, massaging his temple. he tried wiping the thought clean from his mind, but there was no luck. it annoyed him that such a simple thought was enough to leave him flustered.

[MC] VIPER

he wrote it onto a separate sheet of paper. examining it with a slight smirk. his cheeks were tinted a slightly darker shade, signs of him blushing. “their name doesn’t go well with my surname. what a shame.”

he’s lying. hearing your name with his last is like music to his ears, as much as he’d hate to admit it. surely enough he rips the paper into shreds and tosses it into a nearby trashbin, going out on a walk to clear his clouded mind.

you must’ve put a spell on him. he shouldn’t be having such fantasies of you and him traveling the world together.

A/N: this kinda sucks but it’s better than nothing lmao

date published: 1/6/23

© temiizpalce — don’t steal or copy my work!

[bamfkeeper]

Extra Step.

RQ: 'So my mind has been absolutely overrun by the bamfs recently and I was wondering if I could request headcanons or a oneshot (or anything you're comfortable with making it really) with a reader that absolutely adores and coddles the bamfs and maybe even Kurt realizing he wants a kid with them because of it (but only if you feel like adding that). I just wanna cuddle a bamf honestly :') I feel like it would heal my soul.' - @shadykazama

Warnings: GN!reader, mentions of pregnancy/wanting pregnancy

A/N: Went with headcannons, a little shorter because I have another similar request I am writing out for this topic lol.

Kurt knows how much you love the bamfs, the bamfs adore you right back. You treat them as your own, you love on them like they are the most precious things in the world.

They follow you around like little ducklings, piling behind you and making soft noises at you for attention.

Kurt notices how gentle and sweet you are with them, how you cuddle and soothe them, giving them lots of gentle kisses and snuggles. Sometimes he feels jealous, but he can't take care of them like you can.

You feed them all good food, you know their likes and dislikes, and you make sure they get lots of sleep. Honestly, you treat them like your own babies.

Kurt secretly watches as you hum to the bamfs as they are all tucked into bed, your hand gently stroking their heads as you give them their very last kiss of the night. Each bamf snuggles closer and makes gentle cooing, their little yawns show off their teeth and they snore lightly.

He just loves seeing you care for them like this, never did he think his partner would ever want to care for his bamfs in such a dedicated way. They were a handful, the rascals were wild and crazy, they made messes and were somewhat destructive. You always shrugged it off, they needed to let off energy.

Plus you were pretty sure that before, Kurt wasn't giving them enough ways to let out their energy.

It was only when he watched you holding one bamf like a baby in your arms did he realize he wanted more. He felt himself swallow as he realized that he wanted a baby with you. Not a bamf, a baby. He wanted to be a dad.

He watched you holding the bamf in a blanket, snuggling it like an infant. The urge grew stronger and stronger in him, he imagined it being your baby, his baby, cuddling it and gently humming down to the little one.

You hadn't noticed Kurt's obvious stares, or how he rubbed against you in a much more affectionate way. He had no idea how to bring it up or ask, he just knew it was something he wanted.

"Liebe...I have been thinking...." he grabs your wrists and looks you in the eye, "Let's have a baby." He blurted the words to you suddenly, and you were caught off guard by his confession.

"I see how you care for the bamfs, it makes me feel that I want a little one with you. I want to see you with a baby...our baby." He confessed further to you, telling you all his desires to make you a parent.

Initially you were a little unsure, since a baby is more serious than a bamf. But...you loved Kurt and couldn't say no. You felt just as excited about it.

Whether you can conceive naturally or adopt, Kurt feels so much pride and joy when he sees you holding your baby. He couldn't ask for anything else.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover image from Nightcrawler (2014) #6