#and then covering him with them when he falls asleep in the couch
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pathetic bf!seunghyun (headcannons) âËâš á°
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summary: bf!seunghyun who is incredibly down bad for his gf.
an: hello! this is my first fic on this account, im so excited to share it with you. i hope you enjoy <3 (ALSO, please ignore any spelling/grammar errors i didnât proofread.)
bf!seunghyun who: didnât care for love/relationships until he met you.
bf!seunghyun who: swears carless whisper by george micheal played in his head when he laid eyes on you for the first time.
bf!seunghyun who: likes to spend his down time making you playlists and/or writing you songs/raps. he likes to communicate through music.
bf!seunghyun who: calls you sweet girl and thinks it fits perfectly. you are his sweet girl. he thinks youre the sweetest, most angelic being hes ever met.
bf!seunghyun who: will agree to just about anything for your sake (âyeah i dont know, i just dont really feel like going out todayâ he mummered to jiyong, burying himself further into the fluffy cloud that was his bed, dead set on spending his night curled in bed. until you walked into the room. âseunghyun, lets go out tonight, i need to get out of this house.â seunghyun shot out of bed, unraveling himself from the covers and intertwined your hands, âyeah, sweet girl, lets go.â suddenly alive and full of energy. unaware of jiyong snickering behind him.
bf!seunghyun who: genuinely believes he cant go more than an hour without having his hands on you in someway. wether that be his hand in yours, his arm wrapped around your waist, his fingers curled in your hair, or his fingers inside, yes inside the waist of your jeans, resting against the warmth of your skin.
bf!seunghyun who: when you two sleep has to either be little spoon or lay on top of you (while you scratch his back.)
bf!seunghyun who: is only comfortable with you touching him
bf!seunghyun who: literally calls/texts you every chance he gets. in between recordings, while in the bath, while getting his hair done. heâll text you every thought that crosses his mind. (itll be three in the morning and youll get a text from him like, âi just realized, nothing is ON fire. fire is on THINGS.â)
bf!seunghyun who: does things for you he knows you can do yourself, such as, brushing and drying your hair after a shower, carrying you from place to place in your shared apartment, brushing your teeth, grabbing things that are just out of reach, tieing your shoes, no matter how much you insist youâre perfectly cable. he cant help it; youre his angel.
bf!seunghyun who: genuinely tears up when you get mad at him (you immediately feel horrible and give in.)
bf!seunghyun who: loves to lay his head in your lap while you run your fingers through his hair (he falls asleep immediately.)
bf!seunghyun who: hangs onto every word you say. heâll remember something you vaguely told him months later. (âhey, sweet girl, i got you one of those sunâŚsunnyâŚsonny..angelsâŚwhatever you call them,â he said when he came home from the store, placing the sonny angel box on your lap, then, planting gentle kisses onto the corners of your lips, your nose, your temple, your eyelids. you smile, wondering how the hell he knew you wanted one. you giggle, placing your hand on his cheek and rubbing your thumb across his soft skin as he leans into your touch, âhowâd you know i wanted one?â he looked at you as though the answer was obvious, âyou mentioned it when you saw a tiktok video in..mayâ may was 8 months ago?)
bf!seunghyun who: apologizes by getting on his knees, putting his head in your lap, and kissing your hands profusely. muttering over and over how sorry he is and how heâll do better.
bf!seunghyun who: follows you around everywhere like a little cat. always hovering over your shoulder. if you guys are sitting on the couch and you get up to get a glass of water, trust, heâll get up and go with you with a content smile on his face. he has attachment issues.
bf!seunghyun who: when your making out and you pull away, looks at you, breathing all hard, like he physically needs more.
bf!seunghyun who: when he has to travel for work will send you a poem a day. (âhey, sweet girl, you will never be unloved by me. you are too well tangled in my soul; hello, my sweet girl, my heart is so full of you i can hardly call it my own. love you always.â)
bf!seunghyun who: is completely obsessed with you.
#t.o.p x reader#choi seunghyun#choi seunghyun x reader#bigbang#choi seunghyun imagine#thanos#squid game#bigbang imagine
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I was just thinking aboutâŚBunny!Izuku (đ¸â¤ď¸âđĽ)
BECAUSE IM LITERALLY SEEING IT EVERYWHERE. ON PINTEREST ITS b u n n y ! I z u k u. ON TUMBLR ITS b u n n y ! I z u k u .
(â¤ď¸âđĽ18+ content below. Minors DNIâ¤ď¸âđĽ)
Bunny!Izuku I like to imagine, loves to misplace your things. Heâll place your keys under the couch, your hair ties in the kitchen cabinet, and when you go looking for them, itâs a game to see who gets to them first.
Bunny!Izuku has his own room in your apartment, but basically doesnât even use it, always sleeping in your room, with you. He shares most things with you, whether it be clothes, food, your bed- you name it.
Bunny!Izuku is spoiled rotten. He knows it too. You spend so much money on this little fucker, buying him whatever he wants when you two leave the house. (He is grateful though, and seeing his fluffy cotton tail wag just- makes you a different kind of animal.)
Bunny!Izuku is a brat. We all know this. We all love this. But what I headcannon him, is that heâs so much of a brat, that when you finally put him in his place, heâs a trembling, sobbing mess. (I.e; âY/n! Oh- god- please- itâs so good. Harder- please Y/n- Iâm such a brat- I know, please!â)
Bunny!Izuku who loves to cuddle, like, a lot. Heâll just find you in the house, and sit on your lap, or sit next to you, or hug around your waist- just something for that physical contact.
Bunny!Izu who hates it when you scold him. Heâll pout at you and stomp his feet on the floor. Heâs a little brat and he knows it.
Bunny!Izu who gets pretty worn out after spending all his energy all day, and who will lay down to cuddle with you, whining for your attention and touch.
Bunny!Izu definitely pops a boner as soon as your hand is in his hair, scratching at the base of his ears and combing through his wild curls
Bunny!Izu who grips onto your shirt and looks up at you with needy eyes, pleading for you to touch him, to give him what his bodyâs begging for. (âY/n..I..I need you..please..? Iâve been good today..â)
Bunny!Izu who whimpers loudly as you begin to gently pump your hand up and down his cock, slowly soothing the growing ache that had been building to a crescendo. His loud whines and feminine whimpers fill the room while you murmur soft praise to the bunny boy.
Bunny!Izu who canât tear his eyes away from where youâre pleasuring him, his stupid tail trying to wag under him as he watches your hand ride up and down his cock, only drawing out more pornographic moans from the bunny.
Bunny!Izu whoâs throwing his head back into the pillow, tears flowing down his face as he begs for more even though heâs just cum. (âPlease- donât stop please! It feels so good, god it feels amazing please Y/n!â)
Bunny!Izu whoâs spent after a few more rounds of your gentle touches and overstimulation, his body trembling, his ears folded down, and his face covered in tears.
Bunny!Izu who thanks you shakily when you return from the bathroom with a wet wash cloth, gently wiping the remnants of his release from his abdomen and cheek, smiling softly and giving him a few soft kisses on his forehead.
Bunny!Izu who, as soon as youâre back in bed, is wrapped around you, cuddling into your neck while you gently scratch his ears, whispering sweet nothings to him. (âMy sweet boy..youâre so cute Izuku..my pretty baby..my good bunny..â)
Bunny!Izuku who falls asleep every night knowing heâs loved and cherished, always taken care of, who knows you have his back no matter what.
Bunny!Izuku who is so thankful to have life better than most hybrids, and is so thankful for you, and who loves you unconditionally, the exact way you love him. Bratty flaws and all.
Ive been wanting to write bunny!izu for literally so long itâs not even funny. I saw like, 4 people write B!Izu head cannons/one shots, and if you did that, youâre awesome.
#boku no hero academia#my hero academy fanfiction#my hero academia#bnha izuku#my hero acadamy#bnha#izuku midoria x reader#izuku midoriya#izuku mydoria#mha izuku#bunny izuku#bunny!izuku#izuku midoriya x reader smut#izuku x reader smut#izuku mha#izuku midoriya x reader#izuku x reader#deku x reader smut#deku x y/n#deku fluff#deku x reader#mha deku#bnha deku#deku midoriya#deku#bunny deku#bunny Izuku smut#mha smut#mha x you#mha x reader
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Choso is everyoneâs favourite boy. Even your momâs, which is saying something. Always the gentleman, heâs so in tune with your needs and emotionsâ heâs a sensitive soul.
In public, heâs perfect. Holds your bags when you shop, opens doors, and always has his card out before you can think to find your wallet. Heâs great at grounding you, making sure you stop for food and drinks. And Choso loves to share. He doesnât care about stares you receive as his fork flies over your plates to give you a bite of his order.
At home, he helps you with your shoes, makes sure you park yourself on the couch while he takes care of putting things away. Even though heâs still getting the hang of cooking, you never go to bed hungryâ even if it means ordering in with a movie.
He really is the sweetest.
Outside the bedroom.
explicit content under the cut. 18+, mdni.
Behind closed doors, Choso is a different creature.
Depraved doesnât even begin to cover it.
It never starts out that way, of courseâ no, itâs always wholesome at the beginning. Falling asleep, Choso pulls you closer to his chest as his leg wraps over your hip. Itâs an innocent gesture, cuddling in as you begin to drift off.
That is, until he starts rutting up against you.
How could he not? Your smell, your body against him, your sleepy mumbles of endearmentâ he couldnât help himself.
Which is how you end up with your bottoms around your ankles and his wet, pulsing cock twitching between your thighs.
Heâd hump them messily, hands fondling your chest and nipples, bringing himself to the edge before stopping to kiss you.
He loved playing this gameâ getting himself close just to pull away, until his legs were shaking with need and his cock was so hard and heavy it hurt.
By then, of course, heâd be too far gone.
âJust the tipâ please. Please, babyâ justâ just the tip and Iâll stop.â
Squeezing his balls and jerking his base just a little too rough, heâd babble for it. Beg. Beg until his eyes were stinging with tears, until you were reaching down to spread yourself open for him.
One nudge of his soaked, throbbing head against your too-hot hole would have him seeing stars. Toes curling and sharp teeth sinking into your shoulder, heâd paint you white between grunts and whines.
âFuckâ wasted itâ needs to go inside. Need to be inside. Please.â
Which is how you end up pinned under him, Choso drilling you into the pillows as he desperately tries to fuck his cum inside.
Your hissed gasps and choked-off moans have his cock leaking like a faucet; he slips out too many times to count, but heâs nothing if not determined. He fucks into your tight little hole with unparalleled speed, the slap of his balls against your ass sure to brand your skin.
Heâs never satisfied, finishing like thisâ as stuffed as you are.
No, he needs to see you.
So, youâre wrangled onto your back, Chosoâs shaking form above you as he slides home once more. He nestles his cock as deep as he can reach, tears falling from the overstimulation. His cock feels raw, weeping and burning from the incessant pounding, but he canât stop his hips.
Poor thing.
Nothing gets him harder than thisâ your lips on his cheeks, kissing away his tears and cooing as his tip stirs your insides. Your legs around his waist, your nails clawing at his back, the feeling of your chest against hisâ itâs all too much.
Heâd cum crying, shaking as his hips stutter, fucking his cum deep inside.
Heâd fall asleep like that, plugging his seed inside you, trembling in your grasp.
Youâd wake up to strong hands on your thighs, tongue prodding at your insides as he cleans you up.
âThank youâ thank youââ
Muffled into your skin, you can barely make out what he says.
But of course, you already know.
Heâs your sweet boy, after all.
#⤡ đŠđđŚđŤâđ° đĄđ˘đ đŻđ˘đ˘đ° â.Ë#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk headcanons#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#choso kamo#jjk choso#choso x gn reader#choso headcanons#choso x you#choso fluff#choso smut#choso x y/n#choso x reader#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso my beloved#choso x male reader#choso x female reader#choso kamo smut#sub choso#sub!choso
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Yuu Needs a Hug 1
SUMMARY:Â What their comforting hugs are like when you're feeling sad or under the weather? And how would they behave if you started crying in their arms?
CHARACTERS: Heartslabyul (Riddle, Ace; Deuce; Cater; Trey); Savanaclaw (Leona; Jack; Ruggie) & Octavinelle (Azul; Jade; Floyd)
TAGS:Â Fluff; GN Reader; Comfort; Bullet Points; In a Relationship
WORD COUNT:Â An average of 280 words per character.
COMMENTS:Â When I feel a little sad and under the weather, I often imagine these things to help me fall asleep. I thought you might like them too. đ
Yuu Needs a Hug 2 (Scarabia / Pomefiore / Ignihyde / Diasomnia)
CONTEXT: They are already in a relationship with you.
All of Riddleâs hugs happen in private, and comfort hugs are far from the exception.
If he is in his dorm uniform, a very characteristic hug from him is using the cape to cover you like a blanket and as a sign of protection. With his left arm around you.
His most common hugs are the ones where he hugs you with one arm while continuing his duties with the other, like homework, or some dorm-related paperwork. And with the hand that hugs you, absently caressing your back or head.
If you are really feeling very under the blue, he will occasionally kiss your forehead.
He's not the type to hug you tight. His arms will generally be very relaxed and loose around you, as if resting. For someone who is always so uptight and strict, that means a lot.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, then yes, all his attention goes to you immediately and his hug tightens. One arm around your waist and the other on your head, encouraging you to cry all you need on his shoulder.
He will be extremely understanding and act calmly as he knows, and shows you, that it is a normal thing and that he knows it will pass, that you will be fine because he will always be there for you. He himself knows from experience how crying can do a person good, and you were always there for him at those times.
And when you feel better, he will wipe your tears with his handkerchief (I'm sure he carries one somewhere in his clothes) and kiss your forehead with a sweet and reassuring smile.
Ace will gladly give you all the hugs you want. But he will always tease you saying that he wants something in return for every hug. But if you're really sad, he'll say he was joking.
If you really want hugs to make you feel better you'll have to ask in private, because in public he only gives you those more relaxed and playful hugs.
He can give you hugs standing up, but the ones he likes most are the ones when you're both lying on the couch. He likes to have you on top of him with your head against his chest and both of his arms around you, or to lie on his side between you and the back of the couch with one hand supporting his head and the other arm on top of you.
His main strategy to make you feel better is to talk about things that distract you. Generally silly things to tease you or make you laugh.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, he will panic a little and try to find out if it was something he said. After that, he will stop the jokes and hug you tighter and kiss your forehead.
He will be quieter than usual until your crying stops and only then will he return to his normal self.
Deuce will be slightly awkward at first. This is most likely the first time someone has asked him for a hug as a form of comfort. And since he doesn't have much experience with hugs either, he's afraid of messing it up.
He will start by hugging you standing up. You will feel his arms feel more comfortable around you as you explain to him that there is no way he could do that wrong. There is no therapeutic technique, he just needs to act as he feels he should.
If you are on the couch you will be sitting side by side. Your head on his shoulder, one of his arms around you, and the other he always not knowing what to do with it.
It will take a long time for him to have confidence in his comforting hugs because he knows that he is not the type of person who knows how to comfort others, much less physically. But he will always try his best for you.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, he will panic a little and, if he only had one arm around you, he'll quickly put the other one around you too. And he will hug you like you are in danger.
Maybe you will calm down by trying to calm him down and you'll both end up laughing about it.
Cater is the #best hugger! And as he is a person who likes to show affection, it doesn't matter if you two are alone or in public, he will give you all the hugs you need regardless.
Get ready for him to talk in that cute little voice like someone talking to a child. Not that he sees you as one, but he likes to talk and act cute.
And that's why his comfort hugs are also very cute, like someone hugging a teddy bear. He also gives you lots of kisses on your forehead and cheeks while hugging you.
Although he speaks in a cute way, he doesn't do it in a way that seems like he's minimizing your feelings, but rather in a way that tries to show that everything will be okay, that whatever it is will pass.
He can do this whether the two of you are standing together or if you are sitting on a couch. But in this last option, he will be so close to you that the most comfortable way for you to sit together is with you on his lap.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, he won't change the way he's acting, as if knowing he was doing everything right and you crying was a good sign and an important part of you feeling better in the end.
When your crying calms down or stops, he will smile at you, wipe the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs and say phrases like "Are you feeling better?" and "Everything will be okay."
In the case of hugging you to make you feel better, Trey has no problem doing it in public if you need to. And he also reacts to your request as naturally as he would if you asked him to make you a sweet dessert.
You might even be surprised by how naturally he hugs you and the way he rubs his hands comfortingly on your back, if you didn't remember that he has younger siblings and probably has some experience comforting them.
He smiles and laughs softly the whole time, as if he finds your attitude cute.
He can do this standing up or, if you are sitting on a couch, sitting next to you. But only if you are alone will he let you sit on his lap.
The relaxed way he comforts you is almost parental, it must be that older brother side of him.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, he may become a little more serious, but he will always act calmly and comes across as having everything under control. One of his hands will also come from your back to the back of your head.
Once your crying calms down or even stops, he will wipe your tears either with a handkerchief he has or with his own blazer or shirt. He will smile at you, showing that everything is fine and ask if you would like one of his sweets to make you feel better.
Leona cares so much about being seen hugging you publicly that the botanical garden became your spot to take naps together as unbothered as a lion in the middle of savannah. He always wants you to be his pillow, whether it's your thighs or your chest. BUT showing genuine affection is only in private.
He had already noticed that you were sadder than usual, but you were the one who had to ask him for a hug, he was too proud to offer you one non-ironically.
He will open his arms and smile smugly, but he won't be the one to initiate the hug. If you want it, you have to take it.
But as soon as you do, he'll wrap you in a surprisingly affectionate hug. If you're lying down like when he takes a nap with you, his hands will encourage you to come closer and lay your head on his chest. You've just discovered the only way you can reverse your usual roles.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, he will remain calm and surprise you again. He'll start giving you soft kisses on your face and forehead, the equivalent of when felines lick each other's ears as a show of affection.
His tranquility can be contagious, especially because the calm beat of his heart is a reassuring sound.
Only when he is sure that your crying has stopped and you are better will he speak again: *sigh* âYou just give me work, herbivore. I just hope you at least thank me in some way.â
Jack only hugs you in private! And if he ever does it in public, it's because he somehow forgot that you were in public and will quickly break the hug.
He is the complete opposite in private, after all he can be like a puppy: extremely affectionate if he feels comfortable with you. So it was always very common for you to cuddle on the couch.
His comforting hug ends up not being much different from usual, perhaps just less enthusiastic and more delicate. He likes having you in his arms, but he likes having his face close to yours more.
If you're sitting, he won't have any problem letting you sit on his lap and lay your head on his shoulder. He won't take his arms from around you, nor stop kissing your forehead and cheeks softly and affectionately. All his attention is on you, and his main purpose at that moment is to dedicate himself to you.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, he will hug you tighter and the small and calm kisses will turn into love attacks on your face. Do you know when service dogs jump at their owner when they are having a panic attack, for example? It's something like that he's doing, without fully realizing it. Ok, maybe just not as intensely as service dogs do, but with a lot of affection.
This gesture will most likely make you laugh and start telling him you're okay so he can calm down. Which will make you calm yourself down as a result.
Ruggie doesn't really care if you're in public or not, he'll hug you regardless. And there's the bonus that when he hugs you in public, it's like marking territory and warning others.
He loves being cute and affectionate with you because he loves you being cute and affectionate with him back. He often does for you what he knows you would do for him. And a comforting hug is no different.
He will always tease with you a little at the beginning. "Aww, you want one of my special hugs? Thatâs so cute. But remember they are expensive, okay? You have to reward me later as a thanks.â He says this in a good mood that tries to put you at ease.
He will open his arms for you to hug him first and he will hold you in his embrace. He will be smiling playfully the whole time because he thinks it's funny how you can be so cute. And he will kiss your forehead with that same smile.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, his smile will fade. It was too serious for him to treat you with humor. He will tighten the hug and start saying sweet, soothing things in your ear like: "hey, don't worry. I'm sure everything will be fine."
When your crying calms down or even stops, he will smile at you again and say that it all made him hungry. What if you two went to eat something? Maybe, just maybe, he'll share some of his food with you if it's something you really like. But DO NOT get used to it!
ONLY when you are alone, in the VIP Room, Azul likes it when you sit on his lap while he does the Mostro Loungeâs paperwork. It's a healthy balance between the stress of business and the pleasure of having you in his arms.
The only two exceptions to the rule that he doesn't like others seeing you two like this are Jade and Floyd. Why? Because he likes to brag to them about having you all to himself. ("By all means, cry about it.")
He will hug you like he always does when you two are in the VIP Room. One arm around your waist, surprisingly firm, and the other on the papers. His attention is divided between reading and signing the contracts and turning to give you sweet kisses on your face and/or, if you allow it, on your neck.
If he feels you hugging him in a more clingy way than usual, he will comment in a soft voice: âYou know, if I could be in my merman form, I'd let my tentacles do the paperwork and give you all the attention of my arms. The inconvenience of having two legs. No offense of course.â If this can get even a little giggle out of you, he'll be very happy.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, his right hand will immediately let go of the pen and join his left in hugging you. He hugs you so tight it's like you're trapped in his loving embrace. He is worried about you, but he does everything he can to not show himself too worried.
âJust never forget that if there is anything I can do, you can ask. Anything. I will solve any problem for you... just for you...â
When your crying calms down or even stops, he will wipe your tears with a handkerchief and give you a pack of tissues. And when you're better, he'll give you one of his most tender kisses on your cheek.
Jade doesn't like to draw attention, he prefers to observe others than to be observed. That's why his hugs are private, especially those comfort ones that you are asking for.
âYou know you can open up to me whenever you need to, but keep doing it only when we're alone, okay? You never know who might be watching you looking for a weakne- I mean, a sensitive moment to use against you, my love.â
He's not much of a hugger in general, so all of his hugs end up being special. And since you're alone, he has no problem having you sit on his lap if you want.
His arms and hands are premeditatedly affectionate and attentive to you, as if he knew exactly how you liked to be hugged at that specific moment and he fulfilled these requirements to the letter. If there's one thing he knows how to do in a frighteningly perfect way, it's how to study and please others. And you are his biggest study interest.
Whatever you wanted him to do, he will know and do it. The way you want him to hug you, whether you want kisses or not, and how you want them.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, you will feel him, in a way, disappointed. With you or with himself, you don't know. âWhat is the mater? Did I not predict your desires correctly? It seems like I still have a lot to learn about you. How exciting.â He will kiss your forehead and let you cry on his shoulder.
He'll probably compare your crying to Azul's, making fun of him in that passive-aggressive way he does, and end up making you laugh.
When your crying calms down or even stops, he'll help clean your face and suggest that you two go to the Mostro Lounge, where he can prepare your favorite dish to make you feel better if you want. For free? Hmm... he can think about it.
Floyd can be VERY clingy. He loves to hug you, especially in public. Whether heâs in a good mood or not. Which means that, as he hugs you a lot, he also has many different types of hugs.
The vast majority of his hugs are to satisfy him, but they end up satisfying you too. Don't worry, he never squeezed you. He jokes that he will do it, but never actually does.
No matter what mood he's in, he never refuses to give you a comforting hug. For 3 main reasons: 1st  an Octavinelle student never refuses someone's request for help. 2nd He thinks you're so absolutely cute asking him for a hug! It even makes him smile if he's in a bad mood. And 3rd You always give him the hugs he needs, it's only fair (even in terms of a deal) that he does the same for you.
He'll hug you, but he'll do what he wants in the meantime. Playing with your hair, resting his head on yours, swinging his legs if you are sitting down. And if you are, he will make you sit on his lap, itâs easier and more comfortable to hug you like this. He will probably also say silly things to pass the time or try to make you laugh.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, he will immediately shut up and if he was swinging his legs he will immediately stop too. He will straighten up, even if your head is resting on his chest. âYou'll wash my clothes if you get them dirty, right Koebi-chan~?â He says this while stroking your head.
Even though he likes to provoke others, he has a perfect sense of limits, he just tends to ignore them most of the time. But it's different with you and that situation too.
When your crying stops, he will make you look at him, as if to check that the crying has stopped. If he confirms it, he will smile at you: "Is it over yet? YAY~! Can we make something fun now?â
If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
#Twisted Wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twst imagines#twst fluff#Twisted Wonderland Fluff#Riddle Rosehearts#Ace Trappola#Deuce Spade#Cater Diamond#Trey Clover#Leona Kingscholar#Jack Howl#Ruggie Bucchi#Azul Ashengrotto#Jade Leech#Floyd Leech#Riddle Rosehearts x Reader#Ace Trappola x Reader#Deuce Spade x Reader#Cater Diamond x Reader#Trey Clover x Reader#Leona Kingscholar x Reader#Jack Howl x Reader#Ruggie Bucchi x Reader#Azul Ashengrotto x Reader#Jade Leech x Reader#Floyd Leech x Reader
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you know the killer doesn't understand
in which spencer is so terrified he's going to hurt you after he gets out of prison that he can barely touch you. an argument ensues.
angst (+ comfort) warnings/tags: established relationship, fem!reader, mentions of violent intrusive thoughts (non-specific), arguing, yelling, use of the word rape, nightmares, happyish ending, mention of showering together, it's a bad time but it's also a good time for us woo i love angsty angst a/n: i miss posting for real so bad i dug up this draft which was mostly finished and polished it up. i think i really like this one and it was based on a request but i lost it:( i hope u guys enjoy this, pls lmk<3
Spencer is by no means happy with his sudden fear of touching youâit makes everything in his life significantly harder and less convenient and he hates that heâs constantly afraid heâs going to break you. He hates watching you hold back from attacking him with a hug when he enters a room like you used to, and he feels terrible every time you ball up on the opposite side of the couch as he reads, waiting for an invitation into his lap but too scared to ask for one (heâll always hold out his arm for you, thoughâheâs not cruel.)
Youâre adorable in the way you stand at the foot of the bed in your pajamas, arms behind your back like itâs not your bed too, but it makes him feel terrible. This isnât at all what he wanted for you, and in all honestly heâs thought about ending the relationship because he knows heâs being an absolutely awful partnerâbut he just canât bring himself to. Instead, he gestures for you to get into bed, and you curl up under the covers close to him but not against him, and heâll play with your hair and read for a while because he canât sleep very well. Eventually heâll assume the position of sleep, but some sick part of him doesnât know what to do with the sounds of the city and the fan instead of the sounds of a hundred men rolling and sniffing and shuffling around their echoey cells. He doesnât understand warmth anymore, or softness, or nice pajamas or fluffy pillows. Heâs starting to think he doesnât understand you. And thatâs the worst thought of all.Â
So he essentially dozes for the first week, on and off, always exhausted in the mornings but whatâs new. When he canât sleep, he turns his head to watch you breatheâsome beautiful, sweet creature dreaming in his bed, unwaveringly loyal to him even though he can hardly stand to touch you for fuckâs sake. Youâre beautiful, and it makes him feel better to watch you, even if he canât touch you. Not now that he knows what he is capable of doing to another person. What if he has some sort of PTSDâPTSS, thank you, Luke Alvezâinduced dream and does something terrible to you in his sleep? Itâs not like youâre tiny, but heâs stronger, he knows he is, and lately every time you get too close he remembers exactly what it feels like to exert the full force of that strength, and what it feels like when someone else unleashes their own onto him.Â
Theyâre just intrusive thoughts, and in them he doesnât hurt you intentionally, but he always feels a little bit sick now. He is so, so sick. A bull in a China shop. Spencer knows exactly how breakable humans areâitâs his job to know. If he left so much as one red mark on you by accident, heâs quite sure heâd drill down to a previously unknown rock bottom. And if he reaches that point, he doesnât know if heâd ever deserve to come back.Â
Every day it seems to become clearer that the only humane thing to do is break up with you. But for now heâll watch you sleepâthe delicate rising and falling of your chest, the way you curl in on yourself because you canât curl into him. In sleep you look so peaceful and content. You never look that way awake, anymore. Not when heâs around, which is pretty much always. At least he canât disappoint you while youâre asleep.Â
Or so heâd like to think.Â
Until one night, about a week and a half after he gets home; you whimper in your sleep. Itâs so quiet he couldâve missed it, but he doesnât, and then he watches your smooth brow furrow with worry and he knows youâre having a nightmare immediately.Â
Spencer panicsâbefore, he would have woken you up and held you and comforted you until you fell back asleep and it would have been so simple. Now heâs frozen, afraid to touch you but not sure if he can just lie there watching you so afraid and not do a thing about it.Â
In the end, you choose for himâand it only takes a few moments. Youâre close enough to him that itâs easy for you to close the few inches even in sleep, and maybe youâre slightly conscious but not enough to remember youâre not supposed to touch him.Â
He stops breathing as you fold yourself against him, muttering worried nonsenseâhe catches his name, onceânestling against his chest, one searching arm gently draping over his waist. Every muscle in his body is rigid, and his thoughtsâhis mind goes⌠completely fucking blank.Â
Suddenly, all heâs known, all heâs ever known, is the smell of your hair, the warmth of you seeping through layers of clothing, and the weight of your arm over him. Everything he ever was ceases to exist, and heâs just this, right now. The person youâd turned to unconsciously for comfort, so sure, so trusting that he would keep you safe. He can feel your breath for the first time in months. Slowly every tense muscle unspools. For the first time in a long time he doesnât feel dangerous. He doesnât feel like his entire body is spring loaded and ready to attack at the slightest provocation. Spencer allows himself to hold you, and part of it feels like betrayal because he knows how badly you need this from him while youâre awake but mostly he feels like he could cry. His thumb rubs circles into the middle of your back and your head tucks so perfectly under his chin while he studies the rumpled sheets where youâd been lying a moment ago. He almost feels like sticking his tongue out to gloat at your half of the mattressâhaha, look who gets to hold her nowâbut instead he sighs, shakily, and squeezes his eyes shut.Â
You donât make another sound for hours.Â
Heâs reluctant to let you go when you begin to stir around six AM, but forcibly holding onto you is so far from what he wants to do that he manages. You roll back over to your own side of the bed, and he continues admiring you from afar until he falls asleep. Itâs the best three hours of sleep heâs had in a very long time.Â
Of course, you donât remember it. When you wake up your sadness resumes, and so does the pretending like youâre not sad, but youâre a very good sportâand it helps that heâs feeling much better this morning than he has since he got back.Â
âGood morning,â you whisper faintly, still blinking as you watch him longingly from your spot.Â
Spencer pushes himself up onto an elbow, and you watch with big eyes as he leans over you, stroking your cheek with his free hand.Â
âGood morning. You sleep okay?â
Your brow flickers, and he realizes itâs not a question he asks every morning, and youâre probably distracted by this overt display of affection, but you answer it obediently anyway.Â
âI think so. I had weird dreams.â
He hums.Â
âAbout what?â
Itâs quiet for a moment as he takes in the exact spattering of microscopically fractured pigment over your irises. Your voice is small when you finally speak.Â
âDo I have to tell you?â
That hurts.Â
âNo. But it might help.â
Coming from him? Ironic doesnât even begin to cover it.Â
You acknowledge him with a small hum of your own, studying him with soft, mistrustful eyes.Â
He canât help it anymoreâSpencer leans down and gently kisses you, so tenderly, so chastely, it makes his own head spin. He hasnât kissed you like that since you picked him up from Milburn. Itâs long overdue.Â
Which is why heâs not expecting you to start crying. He pulls back immediately, not far, just enough to assess your expression.Â
âWhatâs this? Whatâs wrong, angel?â He frowns. Your lip quivers in a way that feels like a blow to the chest.Â
âThatâs not⌠youâreâŚâ
âWhat? What is it?â
A fat tear finally traces a path down your cheek and when you speak your voice breaks in the most fragile, devastating way.Â
âYouâre not being fair.â
He has no neat question to summarize all the bafflement your accusation inspires in his lately cloudy head, but the wildly confused look on his face must be prompt enough.
âIâm trying really hard to respect your space and boundaries and not upset you but my feelings are hurt, Spencer, I donât know how they couldnât be. I feel like you donât even like me anymore. Iâm embarrassed around you because I feel like I care about you so much more than you care about me. And then youâand then you wake up one morning and you think itâs okay to act like you love me again but I canâtâI cââ you stop, obviously frustratedânow crying in earnest and lacking the words. âYou canât be mean to me. I know youâve been through a lot and Iâm sorry but you canât treat me like that. Iâm a person, too.â
His chest aches and he swallows down barbed wire.
âIâm not acting like I love you. I do love you. More than Iâve ever loved anyone or anything in my life. Thatâs not an act.â
Itâs not an adequate response, but your words are still spinning in his head until he canât keep up with them. Heâs not used to this, anymore. The language you two had developed is so foreign now.Â
Maybe he just doesnât know how to talk to you.Â
Resignationâa too-calm recognition softens the stormy look that has brewed on your face. As soon as itâs gone, and youâre looking at him placidly, he realizes heâs afraid.Â
âWell, thatâs not enough,â you whisper.Â
Spencer feels like heâs been shot as you push the covers aside and slip out of bed. And he knows what that feels like.Â
âWhere are you going?â And then louder, when you donât hear him because youâve already left the room, âWhere are you going?â
He follows you through the apartment as you march purposefully for the door, slipping shoes on and grabbing your keys and coat.Â
You barely look over your shoulder as you leave, slamming the front door behind you. Things shake from the impact. A mini earthquake.Â
Spencer is too stunned to follow you.Â
Itâs not until a few minutes later when he goes to call you that he realizes your phone is still sitting on your bedside table. He stares at it, tasting metal, because he has absolutely no way to reach you or guarantee your safety. Thereâs no way for you to call him, or anyone, if you get in troubleâand he fears that youâll retaliate against him by doing something stupid and dangerous.Â
He only just manages to stop himself from calling the police and asking them to start looking for you. Only just recognizes it to be an overreaction.Â
Besides, heâs not feeling particularly fond of the criminal justice institution these days. If it came down to it, heâd trust himself and his team over the cops any day.
The team. Theyâre always a resource. If worst comes to worst, he thinks, robotically making coffee as he tries to talk himself down, and she doesnât come home before dark, Iâll call all of her closest friends. If she doesnât come home before the morningâthe thought makes him feel sickâIâll deploy every fucking resource at my disposal.Â
Maybe thatâs an overreaction, too, but he has to find a way to self-soothe somehow. Planning makes him feel better. Being prepared for the things you never see coming makes him feel better. Itâs impossible, of courseâbut the illusion of control is stubborn and so seductive.Â
Thankfully, it doesnât come to that.Â
At around 2 PM, he receives a couple of texts from Garcia that are a massive relief.Â
Penelope: Sheâs at my apartment
Penelope: BE NICER TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!
The series of emojis that follow (including an octopus?), he doesnât even try to decipher. He simply drops his phone and sighs deeply into his hands, releasing an extreme amount of paranoid tension that had been tying him into knots. Lately, heâs had this sense that everything is fleetingâthat the things he takes for granted are painfully, violently impermanent. It doesnât take anyone with a degree to figure out why heâs been feeling that way, but itâs so all-consuming heâs not sure how to cope with it. Just a few days ago, heâd been wondering how to break up with you. Now heâs asking himself how the fuck he thought heâd be able to do that when heâs barely functioning after a few hours without you.
Itâs a question he still hasnât answered by the time the front door opens at 10 PM. Itâs clear by the deer-in-headlights look on your face that you hadnât been expecting him like thisâleaning over the counter, half-empty mug by his hand, staring at nothing in particular and waiting for you to come home. Neither of you have changed clothing since this morningânot that you couldâbut you look apprehensive as you close it behind you, never facing away from him. The whole thing is like a teenager being caught sneaking back in by a weary parent.Â
For a moment the silent confrontation stretches into the horizon, a non-specific point as neither of you seem inclined to be the first to talk. You just watch him watching youâleaning against the door rigidly as if you canât get far enough away. But heâs too tired for this. Too worn out.Â
âHowâd you get home?â
You swallow.Â
âPenelope.â
Spencer nods slowly, rolling his bottom lip between teeth and finally looking away.Â
âYou really should have brought your phone.â
You scoff, peeling yourself from the door.Â
âOf course thatâs what youâre worried about.â
Itâs the same situation as this morning, but in reverseâhim following after you down the hall as you storm toward the bedroom.Â
âWhâshould I not have been? You scared meââ he says your name, barely catching the door before it can slam in his face. âI was worried about you.â
âWhy?â you face him, laughing bewilderedly as if the situation were at all funny. A kind of manic energy crackles from the surface of your skin and in your eyes that renders him unable to think of a reply. âBecause you thought I would get raped and murdered and then youâd be sad?â
âYes!â Spencer yells, eyes widening as he fails to contain his frustration any longer. âThat is fucking exactly why I was scared!â
You step forward, getting in his space. It jars him, momentarilyâhe wants to get away from you. Being angry and so close to you is terrifying. What if he lashes out? What if he hurts you? Heâs seen crimes of passion. His blood is freezing in his veins.Â
âOf course you didnât give one single fuck that I left you. You didnât think for one fucking second that I might be tired of this. That wasnât what you were scared of at all.â For every inch you near, he backs away. Another scorned, bitter laugh from you that feels like poison coursing through his entire circulatory system. You notice everything, eyeing him up and down as he cowers from you. âWhat is this, Spencer? If you hate being near me that much, just fucking break up with me.â
Youâre close enough that he can see the tears welling in your eyes, but heâd know they were there even if he couldnât observe them. He would hear it in your voice. He would feel it. But he canât do anything about it. Right now, heâs paralyzed.Â
âIf the only thing holding you back is wanting to spare my feelings, just fucking do it. This isnât better. I donât give a fuck if itâs hard for you. Itâs hard for me, too, but Iâm not just going to ignore it anymore.â
Thereâs no more room. The wall is at is back.Â
âHoney, please back up,â Spencer breathes. Last time his back was to a wall, heâd been gagged and beaten. Donât lash out. She never hurt you. It wasnât her.Â
âDonât tell me what to do!â you shout, as tears begin to spill over your cheeks. âEither break up with me or stop telling me to go away!â
At that moment, as you break down and your words become muddled with sobs, you raise your fist.Â
Spencer watches it approach his shoulder as if in slow-motion.Â
On instinct, he catches your wrist.
Thereâs a lull as he waits for something to explode, for something to go terribly, deeply wrongâ
But it doesnât.Â
He realizes his grip is gentle. He realizes youâd never actually hurt him like that. He realizes how little resistance heâd found when he stopped what was sure to be nothing more than a petulant, petty bump against his shoulderâa maneuver that wouldnât have hurt in the slightest. It was nothing more than a desolate, childlike display of feelings bigger than you know what to do with.Â
In the second that it takes him to realize all of this, to realize he is not endangering you in the slightest, nor you him, youâve begun to truly sob. Standing just inches from him, head angled down as he holds your wrist carefully, you are the picture of a girl who has been running on empty for a very long time and has nothing left to give. Spencer twines his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin and slowly rubbing your back like heâd never forgotten how to hold you. It stuns you, and the tears pause for just a secondâbefore youâre wrapping desperate, weakened arms around him and sobbing even harder, albeit silently, into his shirt.Â
âI donât want to break up,â he whispers, his own voice shaky with understated emotion. âIâm sorry. Please donât say that. I donât want that.â
âWhatâs wrong with you?â You cry, a desperate plead caught between sobs that wrack your body against his against the wall. And he knows itâs not an accusation. Itâs not an insult. Itâs a question borne of confusion and fear. Itâs what a child might ask a sick dog while tears stream down feverish cheeks. And itâs completely appropriate, considering he never tells you anything anymore and heâs only just realizing how scary that must be. Spencer is back from prison but you may as well still be living alone for all that you know about him. He tangles a hand in your hair and holds you against his chest, breathing you like nitrous oxide.Â
âI donât know,â he whispers. The room beyond blurs as he stares at nothing, focused only on the tingly euphoria of feeling you under his hands clashing with the ever-present and crushing shame that he couldn't do it sooner. âI donât know. Iâm sorry.â
âI donât want youâto be sorry.â Shuddering breaths and gasps still cleave your sentences in half, and Spencer listens so intently he thinks there might be harmonics hidden in the layers of your voice. He clings to every syllable like youâre wielding the word of god in a five-foot-something body. âI just miss you so mâmuch. I want you toâto love me.â
âI do,â he promises immediately, lips pressing to your ear. âI do love you. So much. So much.â
When you donât respond, heâs not exactly surprised. He almost asks what he can do, what you needâbut is quite sure thatâs not the right move. Instead he doesnât say a thing. Only holds you.
Later, youâll pull back and heâll swim in your teary gaze, and then kiss you. Heâll trace silent apologies into every inch of your skin under the torrent of the shower, and heâll do whatever it takes to make you understand. But for now, for the first time in months, youâre holding each other, and thatâs all either of you need. Â
#spencer reid#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds#criminal minds fic
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You work is top notch đ¤
Could you maybe write the MHA boys being drunk and gropey with Reader?
DRUNK âN NASTY.
⥠includes: aged up! midoriya izuku, bakugĹ katsuki, todoroki shĹto, takami keigo.
⥠warnings: 18+ content (mdni), f! reader, fluff & smut, alcohol and drinking, groping, car sex, denki&sero share an apartment in bakugoâs, breeding, dry humping.
⥠notes: thank you so much <3!
â MIDORIYA IZUKU
when heâs been drinking, izuku gets clingy; heâll grab you all over, cheeks pink as he looks at you with dazed adoration. but, he gets horny really quickly â heâs just sitting beside you, staring at your thighs and the way they squish against each other as you cross your legs and boom! heâs rock hard.
âizuku! are you seriously hard right now?â you slur before taking another strong shot. the sweetened vodka rushes down your throat, and you wince a little at the burn, back straightening.
âgod,â he groans out of nowhere, and you turn towards him, crossing your legs on the bar stool.
âwhat, baby?â
âyouâre just so..â he drifts off, grinning stupidly as he searches for the right words. âso beautiful! and you look so soft, i want to touch you so bad.â
he scoots his stool towards you, hands reaching towards your thighs; he rubs at your plush skin, digging his nails in a little as he feels himself get harder. âa-and, i really want you to sit on my face right now!â
âizuku!â you attempt to hush him when a few people turn due to the loudness of his voice. âyou canât say that, weâre in a bar right now!â
âwell, letâs go then,â he suggests nonchalantly, stumbling when he hops off his barstool, âletâs go home.â
later, youâre sitting on his face, and right after you cum, he falls asleep.
â BAKUGĹ KATSUKI
when heâs sober, heâs mouthy and snarky, but when heâs drunk, heâs even worse. regardless of who can see him, or where he is, his lips are either on yours or all over your neck. sometimes heâll realize where he isâaround your shared friendsâand heâll whisk you away to somewhere more private.
âeww dude, we donât wanna see all that,â denki exclaims, dramatically retching and gagging at the sight of katsuki covering your neck in needy kisses. his large hands grip the plush skin of your hips and then slowly slide upwards.
âshut the fuck up, ya damn extra!â katsuki snaps, groping at your tits before he finally grabs your hand and pulls you up from your seat on the couch.
your drink sloshes in your cup as you allow him to pull you along, and he whisks you away to denki and seroâs bathroom. before the door even closes, heâs on you, caging you against the sink. âkatsuki!â you exclaim against his lips, voice caught between a gasp of surprise and a moan of excitement. the cup, half full of liquor, falls to the floor and spills, ice cubes sliding on the tile.
âall mine,â he grunts, his big hands squeezing at your thighs, spreading them before he angles his knee between them. heâs kissing you so hard you feel your head spinning, your pussy throbbing with need. katsuki hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and underwear, peels both away with an impatient grumble.
âfuck me hard,â you beg, dripping.
âwhen donât i?â he rumbles into your neck, slipping off his pants and boxers. katsukiâs needy cock presses against your thigh, thickening even more when you wrap your hand around it firmly.
âthatâs right,â he groans, squirming, âpush my cock inside youâughhh.. good girl.â
â TODOROKI SHĹTO
sho gets super happy and horny after a few strong shots; heâs intertwining your fingers with his, very sneakily trying to pull your hands into his lap. if youâre in an area where itâs possible, he tugs you close and sits you on his lap; heâll spoil the intimate touch with some grinding or groping.
âsho!â your face burns as he languidly drags you against his lap, clothed cunt rubbing over his hardened cock.
shĹtoâs fingers intertwine with yours, his palms warm and just a little sweaty. a hushed groan escapes his lips, and he looks from where youâre sitting on his lap to your face, scrunched with pleasure.
âsho, quit teasing me, iââ he shakes his head immediately.
âmm mm, just a little longer.. feels so good.â
he wants you to be begging for him, soaked all the way through your clothes. through a few layers of clothing, you can feel his thick cock, even feel the ridge of his tip.
âs-shĹto, faster,â you whimper, and he obliges, moving your hips on him but also thrusting up against you. it feels like the room is spinning when his cock thickens and throbs, and his head is pounding when he buries his face in your shoulder, cumming in his pants with a âmmmh, shit, iâm sorryââ
but you donât care, moving with a pace thatâs desperate yet brutal for his sensitive cock. cum seeps through clothing as you moan, practically riding him â a spot of dampness appears on his pants, where his crotch is, and yet he doesnât even notice, too focused on the way youâre moving.
he moans, sensitive, and you swallow it with your kiss swollen lips. âshĹto,â you whimper, pussy squeezing as your slick starts to soak through your thin panties, âbend me over and fuck me after this, okay?â
â TAKAMI KEIGO
oh god, the second the alcohol starts to affect him, heâs grabbing you all over before he eventually takes your hand and leads you out to the car. he ignores the other people at the bar who start to question why heâs heading to the car, only focused on you.
âah! keigo, fuck!â drool drips from your lips as you stare up at your boyfriend from between your knees. looking absolutely enthralled by you, he pushes your calves further against your chest.
his wings are entirely spread out, taking up most of the backseat and blocking the windows. he groans, whiny and deep, ây-your pussy feels so fucking good, ohâ âm gonna fill you up, need to so bad..â
tears fall from your eyes as you nod vigorously, clawing at his forearms in your eagerness. âinside me, wanâ it inside, kei!â
creampies always felt so much better when the two of you were drunk â he would always unleash this inner breeding kink of his, rambling on and on about filling you up until your belly was eventually swollen.
ây-yeah?â he asks, pushing deep as he unloads his cum inside you. âo-oh, fuck.. take it, baby, take it!â
keigo looks downwards, noticing the creamy ring around the base of his cock and the flexing of your cunt. the look of sheer bliss on his face has your eyes rolling back, legs shaking.
âoh, dove, youâre so pretty when youâre full of my cum.â
#kurooh#iâm sorry i took so long to write this đ#bnha smut#bnha x reader#mha smut#mha x reader#todoroki smut#todoroki x reader#deku smut#deku x reader#midoriya smut#midoriya x reader#hawks smut#hawks x reader#bakugou smut#bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader
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NSFW
warning: some nsfw in the vampire, werewolf, and incubus parts
Cat hybrid bf trilling when he sees you, his ears flicking and tail swaying softly. Immediately he stands and walks towards you, quiet and graceful. He buts his head against you affectionately, then begins grooming you as his arms wrap around your waist.
Puppy hybrid bf that runs to the front door, nearly knocking you over as he plows into you. Heâs instantly covering you in puppy kisses, his tail wagging furiously as he sniffs at your neck before giving you an affectionate bite.
Vampire bf that taps his foot impatiently, checking his watch and biting his lip. You were supposed to be home 30 minutes ago! The second you open the door, heâs on you, checking for injuries and fussing over you. He tries to play it off⌠but itâs sweet to see how much he cares for you, drinking your blood as he fingers your needy cunt.
Incubus husband that waits in your bedroom, wearing his best lingerie, sipping on wine⌠but when you get home, all of the sexy atmosphere is gone and heâs crying, snuggling into you and babbling about missing you way too much. The two of you fall asleep, with him clinging to you and drooling on your shoulder.
Werewolf bf that had been trailing you, and only barely got home before you did. He knows everything that happened during your day, purring softly when you take out the steak he watched you buy. He holds you on his knot and scents you as you watch TV.
Orc husband that goes out to find you when youâre more than a minute late. He spots you walking towards the house, throws you over his shoulder, and carries you home. Scolds you too, his large hand smacking your ass before he sets you down on the couch.
Dragon hybrid bf that doesnât let you go out at all. The only fresh air you get is when heâs with you, a possessive claw on your hip as you walk around town. Once youâre home, heâs a bit pouty and needs your attention or heâll be grumpy about people getting to look at his treasure.
Naga bf also doesnât let you out⌠at all. Youâre so soft and sensitive, his little darling. He does however sit outside the bathroom and let out annoyed hissed when you take too long, pouting and scratching at the door. He expects kisses and snuggles for being so brave and patient.
Mermaid bf that trills and splashes happily when he spots you on the shoreline, performing a little mating dance in the water before pulling you into his arms. He missed you so much, heâs so glad youâre back for the summer! All he wants is to spend every single day with youâŚ
Theyâre happy youâre home with them, safe and sound đ
âââââââ
NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @chubbumblebee @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden
#cat hybrid bf#cat hybrid x reader#puppy hybrid bf#puppy hybrid x reader#werewolf x reader#werewolf smut#hybrid smut#vampire smut#vampire x reader#incubus x reader#incubus smut#monster fucker#monster lover#monster fudger#monster boyfriend#monster fic#chubby!reader#chubby reader#fem reader#female reader#mermaid x reader#orc x reader#naga x reader#naga boyfriend#dragon hybrid#terat0philliac#terato#teraphilia#exophelia#monster smut
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[Arcane preference] reacting to a s/o falling asleep on their lap
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/700d984ca38f5f95c5765063716cea58/e229e914bee9b846-51/s540x810/8140df6f6d3ea397de5cffbed54c2bc8f51bfa7e.jpg)
The reason I have to post requests like this is because, for some reason, if I post them as Tumblr requests, I canât find them again when I search for them. Making the masterlist was a real struggle. As usual, Iâm using the headcanon to promote my longfic on Arcane, Everytime It Rains.
socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 |
Jayce:
It often happens when he spends the evening working instead of giving you attention.
You know he doesnât mean it in a bad way, so you settle for climbing onto his lap, letting your limbs dangle, and resting your face against his chest.
He stays focused on studying the documents in front of him, but one hand holds your head steady to keep you from losing your balance.
He strokes your hair absentmindedly.
When he notices youâve fallen asleep, he feels a warmth, a tender sort of affection. He doesnât want to wake you but wishes he had something to drape over your shoulders.
After a while, it becomes his signal that heâs pushed himself too far with work.
Thatâs the moment when he lifts your face to kiss you before carrying you to bed.
Viktor:
The classic "working on the couch" position, where you first sit next to him to avoid disturbing him, then drape one leg over his lap, and eventually both. By the end of the evening, youâre fully curled up in his arms.
He holds your side, resting his cheek against your head while continuing to read his notes, basking in the warmth of that shared intimacy.
He asks you several times if youâre tired, and when you donât respond, he smiles softly, realizing exhaustion has won you over.
He pulls the blanket up to cover you both, and even when you grumble in annoyance at his movements, he chuckles and just says, âJust a secondâ
He works for another couple of hours but never stops stroking your side or giving you small kisses on the forehead.
Ekko:
âAw, someoneâs sleepy here,â is the first thing he says when you take the overboard from his hands, and let yourself plop into his lap, already wrapped in a blanket like a cape.
He doesnât even try to go back to what he was doing. Instead, he pulls you close, rubbing his face against yours, taking in your scent.
He loves itâmaybe even more than cuddling lying down. He enjoys the weight, the shape of your body, and being able to cradle you.
Because of this, he doesnât ask if youâd rather lie down; he stays put, ensuring your rest is protected.
Itâs only when youâre fully asleep and start shifting to find a more comfortable position that he decides to carry you to bed, staying there with you afterward.
Vander:
Iâll be honest, would.
The underground city is freezing due to the lack of light that filters in, all the glass and steel radiating cold from the outside. Thatâs why thereâs no place more comfortable than this manâs laps.
You usually do it when the bar is still closed, and only a few close friends are inside. When you know he isnât on the defensive and you wonât slow him down.
He laughs, keeping one hand on your back to support you, and points out to anyone around him that itâs good for you to get a little rest.
If you stay asleep even after the bar opens, heâll grab a chair and sit it beside him so he can take care of the larger tasks first and then return to you in his lap.
But if itâs the weekend, when things can easily heat up, heâll delay opening just to get you to bed, give you a kiss, and apologize for leaving you alone.
Silco:
Can we normalize this man as a piece of furniture?
Itâs not even about being tired or wanting attention, sometimes itâs just the comfort the situation itself provides.
The way the swivel chair rocks, the vinyl on the record player, the intense, greenish light pouring through the window, and enjoying his delicate fingers in your hair while the entire city stretches out beneath you.
He doesnât ask why you do it, nor if you want to move. He assumes that if you wanted something different, you would simply ask, so he continues to give you those small attentions endlessly.
He keeps you on the side of his good eye, so he doesnât have to turn his head to check on you, but can discreetly notice if your expression changes or if you fall asleep.
These are the moments when Sevika knows that no one is supposed to enter his office, so you can have a bit of peace.
Jinx:
Sheâs always busy, always active, always too loud. Sitting in her lap sometimes seems almost like a necessity to keep her still and focused on just one thing.
âAwwww, my little bug is sleepy?â
She hums while holding you in her arms, one hand still trying to get her projects done.
If too much time passes, sheâll bend her knees and push herself forward, making the swivel chair move in the direction she wants so she can stay occupied while talking to you about whatever crosses her mind.
If she feels your breathing change, that youâre falling asleep, she suddenly freezes, as if to let you rest.
She pulls you closer, caresses you, kisses your temples, and carries you to her little couch.
Vi:
If manhandling were a woman
When you sit on her lap, she treats you like youâre a cat: fine. It will end there.
Does she need to pee? No, she doesnât anymore.
She canât disturb you, or you might get up and leave.
But when it starts to become a constant, sheâll cover your back and simply hold you while she does what she needs to do.
If you complain, sheâll kiss you, apologizing and reassuring you that youâll be back on the sofa soon, asking you to hang on.
She enjoys that closeness, your breath on her skin, the trust in that action.
The moment she sits back down or rests, sheâll shower you with cuddles, even if youâre asleep or pretending to be.
Caytlin:
Sheâs the one to ask if you want to sit in her lap, worried that sheâs neglecting you.
She keeps you with her, even if youâre asleep, supporting you to make sure you donât hurt yourself or lose your balance.
Her biggest fear is not being able to express how much she cares for you, how happy she is to have you there.
The quickest way she knows to do that is through physical contactâthe reassuring, warm kind.
âHow was your day?â she asks, giving you space to talk and feel seen. She doesnât want the things she has to do to take away from you, from the two of you.
If she still feels like sheâs ignoring you, sheâll ask you to sit on the couch with her to watch a movie, or maybe in bed, cuddled up, just being close.
Mel:
I recognize mommy issues when I see them, and so does she. Youâve been caught.
She welcomes you into her arms almost playfully, gently caressing your hands and arms, speaking softly with her head turned toward you.
She knows itâs the easiest way for you to ask for attention, and she simply accepts it, letting you rest either in her arms or with your head on her lap.
She talks to you about her day, her plans, her worries as if telling you a lullaby, letting you rest on her concerns, including you in her mind so that you donât feel like a burden.
If you fall asleep, she rests her chin on your shoulder and closes her eyes as well, enjoying a few minutes of peace, trying to sync your breathing together.
Sevika:
You live on the lap of this woman.
When she adjusts her arm, when you eat something on the couch, even at the bar while she plays cards or drinks, youâre always there.
The safest place in the underground city is on the massive legs of a woman with a mechanical arm, and thatâs a fact.
Her initial fear, especially in public, was that someone might associate you with her and harm you.
But over time, itâs almost become a flex -you, pretty thing, are hers,
Every now and then, she checks to see if youâre okay, if you want to go to bed, if youâre comfortable, and with her healthy hand, she caresses your cheek while doing so.
At home, she always makes sure to cover you, to keep you close.
She doesnât even go to bed unless you ask, enjoying the feeling of your body against hers.
#jayce x reader#viktor x reader#ekko x reader#silco x reader#vander x reader#jinx x reader#vi x reader#caitlyn x reader#sevika x reader#mel x reader#jayce talis#viktor arcane#ekko arcane#silco arcane#arcane vander#jinx#vi arcane#caitlyn kiramman#mel medarda#sevika#arcane x reader#arcane headcanon#arcane 2#arcane writing#arcane caitlyn#caitlyn arcane#mel arcane#jinx arcane#arcane jinx#arcane silco
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â A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME â
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/364292a99af21917e0fc548faadd5e5d/3a2a4c2d603963fa-f5/s540x810/436eb7d1c46220924ae94a980caa43895d005c0b.jpg)
pairing: satoru gojo x reader
summary: you come home after a long day of work unable to find the person you call home anywhere â until you reach the bedroom.
warnings: 18+ suggestive, fluff, comfort, some angst, implications of the shinjuku showdown arc, implied gojo is no longer a sorcerer, gojo is your househusband, taking a bath together, taking care of him, copium really, satoru being a silly man
w/c: 1,184
âIâm home!â
You call into your home, the clatter of your keys and shoes as you shedded the things that chained you to the outside to submerge yourself in your oasis and into his arms. But as you got no reply, you stepped into your living room, scanning over the kitchen, to find no one.
Now where was your home?
âSatoru?â you called, heart skipping a slight beat, he was always waiting for you when you got home, usually on the couch or maybe in the kitchen the clank of the knife as he chopped away. Or even the many times that he was waiting by the door to only ambush you with kisses. But this time, nothing.
You rounded the corner to the hallway and peeked into your bedroom to find him asleep. You crept closer, careful not to wake him, and yup, he was fast asleep. His pretty snow white lashes resting against his cheeks, his chest slowly rising and falling as the soft sounds of his breaths parted his lovely lips.
You could watch him sleep for hours. You knew he never did enough of it before, and youâd argue he still didnât do enough of it now. He always said he was fine sleeping 6 hours since it was twice as much as he usually got â and now he was working at home, so he could be ease.
But even so, you know he needed more.
As if he senses your thought, he stirs, starry blue eyes finding yours as he flutters sleep from his gaze, âsweetheart?â Heâs murmuring, voice still beautifully raspy from sleep, âwhen did you get home?â Heâs shifting to get up, but you use gentle hands to ease him back, âI havenât started on dinner yet, sweetsââ
âI got it, Toru,â youâre running your fingers through his hair, âjust rest, baby,â and a protest is already on his lips, âlet me guess what you did today â cleaned the house from roof to floor, stocked us on groceries, cooked lunch for me for the week, and probably a million other things,â you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, âI think I can handle dinner for one night at least,â
Heâs pouting now, âbut you just got home from work, Princess, what kind of househusband would I beââ and you canât help but laugh, he loved his self appointed title of househusband, especially since it was one he had chosen for himself, and he took any opportunity â even now to call himself that.
âI think even the absolute best househusbands need a break, and should listen to their wives, since Iâm the one you want to pamper so much,â and his lips party in protest, but youâre leaning down to kiss them and his pout away, âlet me take care of you, Toru,â
Heâs sighing, as he leans up to press his forehead to yours, âand does your offer include a bath, sweetheart?â
~~~
âYâknow sometimes I feel guilty,â and you pause in your massage of his head, fingers tangled in his hair, suds from the bath youâd drawn for him covering both of your bodies as he leans against you in your tub, back pressed flush to yours.
âGuilty about what?â you ask, holding your tongue on the million reasons why he shouldnât.
âFor so long, I was the strongest,â he gives a small chuckle, âand it was fun, sometimes. But it was mostly lonely,â he leans back to look up at you, a small grin on his lips, âexcept when I was with you,â your lips curl, âand now I get to be with you, and I get to stay home â and the worst thing I have to do are the dishes,â and you snort.
âI told you Iâd do them if you hate them so much,â
But heâs shaking his head, âSometimes I think trying to deal with our cast iron is worse than fighting Sukunaââ and you roll your eyes, âbut thereâs always this urgency that I have to be doing more. Telling me to keep going, moving, fightingââ
âYouâve done enough, Toru, more than enough,â your fingers cup his cheek, âtoo much, honestly. Itâs okay to rest now. Youâve done your partââ
âButââ
âDidnât you or someone say jujutsu is like a marathon, a baton pass?â Your fingers run through his white locks, before you shift yourself to sit in his lap instead, âthe marathon is over, racers have packed up and gone home, and the finish line has been crossed,â your fingers rest on the back of his neck, tracing his undercut, âand thatâs because of you and all you did to fight and raise up the next generation,â you say softly, and heâs pressing his head to your forehead.
âIs it okay for me to rest now?â and youâre pulling him into your arms, hoping your touch conveys what your words canât.
âYes, it is, Satoru,â youâre pressing soft kisses to his neck, âyou donât need to be the strongest. Youâre Satoru Gojo, and thatâs all I want,â and he leans back, âyouâre all I want,â
âIs that a proposal?â And you snort.
âWeâre already married, weirdoââ and his lips find yours, as they always did, his arms around your bare waist, as the water shifted and splashed, but you could barely feel anything except his lips against yours and the circle of his thumb against the small of your back.
He finally pulls away, a genuine smile on his lips, âAnd you married this weirdo,â and you chuckle, tracing his jaw with your finger, âyouâre stuck with me for life,â
âPromise?â And heâs kissing you again in an instant, stealing your breath like he did the first time you met him all those years ago at jujutsu tech. And you knew youâd never love anyone else â not like him.
âPromise.â
Bonus:
Satoruâs arms wrap around you from behind as the two of you towel off after your bath, âwhat are we having for dinner?â
âWell someone insisted on me being in here with him, so I had to order out,â and heâs grinning, as he nuzzles your neck.
âWhoopsie, hehe,â and heâs humming, as he tugs your hips against his, the friction drawing a gasp from your lips, âcan we have dessert first?â
âIt is dessert. Weâre having ice cream for dinnerââ and heâs kissing you again, but this time itâs languid and messy â all tongue and teeth, until heâs pulling away with a smirk at your breathless face.
âI want something sweeter, wife,â and you smile.
âThink you can finish before the delivery gets here?â And heâs already picking you up with ease in his arms, pinned under him in a moment, as his ocean blues flash with mischief from between your thighs.
âI can, but I donât know if youâll be done by then.â He says cheekily, as you only sigh.
If there was one thing that would always be true is that you would always be weak to Satoru Gojo â but not his abilities, but who he is.
Your husband.
âLetâs see, hm?â
a/n: Iâm real upset about the leaks and this is my coping. I needed this.
taglist: @staryukis, @cloverlilies, @asgoodasdead666, @strawmariee, @chuuyasboots, @forest-fruits-jam, @catsgomurp, @rat-loves, @hanlay, @risuola, @spider-fan72, @sunamatic, @difficultdomains
#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo fanfiction#gojo satoru smut#jjk x reader#jjk fanfiction#jjk smut#gojo x reader#gojo fanfiction#satoru gojo x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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Sitter
dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
Youâre spending spring break alone at home while your father is five thousand miles away when all of sudden, you fall sick. Enter Joel Miller: your fatherâs buddy, sent by him to check on you.
Tags: Explicit MDNI, no outbreak, age gap, no mother in the picture but your father has a named girlfriend (sorry), no bra household, dry humping, footjob while watching SpongeBob, oral (m and f receiving)
Word count: 6.8k
âDad,â your voice is hoarse like it has just come out from a dying goose, and you spend the next five seconds trying to clear your throat.
âSo like, Iâm⌠sick, kinda, but itâs not really bad, soââ A train of coughs that feels like they are going to tear your lungs apart. ââsorry about that. Itâs nothing. Donât worry too much, donât even think about it. I just wanted to let you know.â Another coughing fit. âOkay. Have fun, I love you.â
You click your phone screen and let the voicemail find its way to your fatherâs ancient block of telecommunication. Itâs 11 p.m. for you, 5 a.m. in Tuscany, you calculate with your fingers. You might be wrong. Either way, your father is probably asleep. He had been away for a couple of days with his girlfriend Amy for her nephew's wedding. And they plan to spend another week there, because itâs their anniversary, and Amy had always wanted to go to Italy.
âWill you be okay?â your father asked, apologetic. He leaned onto your bedroom doorâs frame while you were unpacking your backpack.
âYeah, Dad, what am I, eight? Go.â you laughed lightheartedly.
âItâs just you came down here from school and then I go, you know. I wish youâd said yes and come with us.â
âAnd third-wheeling you and Amy for ten days?â you giggled. âDad, itâs okay. Come on. Weâll still have the weekend together when you come back.â
You heard Amy call for your father from downstairs, followed by a question about his dress shirt. You grinned, gesturing for him to go.
âMe and Amy will make sure the fridge is full, okay?â he says, voice fading as he steps down the stairs. You shook your head. Youâve survived on dry ramens and day-old coffees in college. You would be okay. Right?
Loud buzzer sound. The game show on the TV you put on to distract yourself from the fever is not doing a good job. You try to focus, but the noises coming out of it sound muffled, and the colors are just so bright and saturated that they make your head spin. You click on mute before slamming the remote on the coffee table, and it lands safely on some crumpled Kleenex. A thermometer is sitting next to the box, the tiny display screen blank. Itâs broken, and you make a mental note to scold your father for always keeping faulty things around the house as if heâs going to fix them. A few bottles of pills you fished out of your fatherâs medicine cabinet to at least ease your aching muscles are toppled next to a half-empty Nyquil Nighttime Relief bottle with its cap screwed but crooked.
You second-guess your decision to let your father know that youâre unwell. But again, he hates surprises, so letting him know that he might find your rotting corpse in front of his TV when he gets back is, perhaps, doing him a favor.
Itâs dark in the living room, and the leather couch is sticking to your sweaty leg. You should probably put sweatpants and a hoodie on instead of biker shorts and a stretched out shirt that looks more like a rag than a proper clothing item. But climbing the stairs now? No, thank you.
You shift your body, trying to find the best position to fall asleep in since the wrong angle seems to block your nasal passage. A groan leaves your throat when you canât pull the fleece blanket to cover your body. You find out you are sitting on both ends of it. To hell with it.
You blink slowly. The Nyquil seems to start working. Canât sneeze or cough if youâre knocked out, you think. You close your eyes, the colors from the TV somehow find their way in and flash washed-out red, white, yellow behind your eyelids. Youâre too tired to reach for the remote.
Maybe youâll feel better when you wake up.
You jolt when something cold makes contact with your forehead. Within microseconds, you yeet the thing away hysterically, hitting yourself in the process. The thing flies and lands on the wooden floor with a wet, thwap sound.
âEasy, easy,â
If it was just a little bit not so sudden and confusing and designed to constrict your blood vessels until your organs fail, you would have yelped. You nearly snap your neck trying to find the source of the voice, and your tense shoulders fall as quickly as they were raised when you notice the familiar face belonging to a broad frame standing next to the couch.
Itâs Joel Miller.
Of course itâs him. Your father likely has him on speed dial.
He and your father go way back. Went to the same school, crushed on the same girls, hit the same bong, and so on. They were even in a band together. Your father has pictures of them from years ago, with greasy hair, earrings, bass and drumsticks in their hands. Cringe.
Well, just your father. Not Joel though.
You havenât seen him in like, what, a year? And yet he looks good as ever. Well, Joel has always looked good his whole life. When you saw the pictures of him from high school you thought, Oh Fuck, I Would Totally Have A Crush On This Guy. And then you had to sit in silence and ponder, because, well, you are having a crush on this guy. Sort of. Maybe.
He bends over to pick up the thing you just yeeted on the floor, which is apparently a washcloth, and dunk it in a basin on the side table, which is now clean from all the stuff that was previously there.
âJoel,â you chirp. âHi.â
âHey.â he smiles as he squeezes the washcloth. Beads of water come trickling down his knuckles back to the basin, gleaming in front of the still-turned-on TV. âHow are you feeling?â
âIâm okay. What time is this?â you straighten up, rummaging around the blanket to find your phone to no avail.
âOne-thirty. Sorry, didnât mean to startle you. Your old man asked me to check on you." He folds the cloth in two and dab it before stepping closer and pressing it against your forehead, nice and cold. His other hand supports your head from the back, basically cradling your skull.
âYour front door was unlocked when I came in.â says Joel, as if you are capable of digesting any kind of information at the moment. âYou shouldnât do that.â
âSorry,â you say sheepishly. âAnd sorry my Dad made you come here. You didnât have to, itâs not so bad.â
âCome on, itâs only a ten minute drive. âS okay. I checked your forehead. Not too bad, but still a fever, yâknow. You took the Nyquil?â
The thought of Joel Miller touching your forehead with his palm in the dark while you were asleep somehow makes the neurons in your brain stop interlinking for a second. Were you sleeping with your mouth open the whole time? You knew you did fall asleep that way since you couldnât breathe through your nose. Man.
âI did.â you nod, shaking the thought away. You feel your lungs tighten, though. Another coughing fit incoming.
âGood,â Joel presses his hand to your forehead again as if trying to make sure the wet washcloth is properly glued onto your face. The soft pressure disrupts your composure and you cough like a machine gun submerged in a container full of Elmerâs glue, hacking up thick mucus up your throat. Joel leaves your side with hurried steps and, within seconds, somehow has a paper cup under your chin for you to spit into.
You try to grab the cup, flustered, but he doesnât let go and instead helps you sit up straight, patting your back.
âSpit.â he says as you wheeze with phlegm in your mouth like an imbecile. You awkwardly grab his wrist for support and spit the mucus out into the cup. Soon youâll realize how foolish it is to grab someoneâs wrist using the same hand you used to cover your mouth while coughing. The string of saliva takes a ridiculously long time to break free from your lips, but Joel is unfazed. He takes a glance at the mucus, likely checking the color and consistency.
âThanks,â you blink rapidly, still processing.
âYou wanna go to urgent care?â Joel asks.
âNu-uh,â you shake your head. âIâm okay, I promise. I feel a lot better already.â
âItâs probably just a bug,â he pats your back again before walking to the kitchen to dispose of the cup. âHow long has it been going on?â
You wait until he comes back because you donât think you can speak loud enough for him to be able to hear you from the kitchen without tearing your throat apart. Joel thinks you didnât hear him the first time and is about to repeat his question when you say, âUh, it got progressively worse last night.â you realize how serious that sounds and quickly add, âBut not like, worse worse. I mean, compared to,â
âAnd before that?â
âJust a scratchy throat.â
He looks like heâs mentally taking notes with arms folded in front of his stomach. Itâs the first time that night you take a full look at him under the glow of the muted TV. You canât really make the colors out, but heâs wearing a dark t-shirt under an unbuttoned flannel shirt and jeans. Heâs keeping his beard kind of thin compared to the last time you saw him, but still the same, well-tended mustache that makes a strong presence over his lips. You canât help but notice the graying strands of hair that stick out among his dark, messy hair, complimenting him so well. You are pretty sure the ratio between light to dark hair has been shooting up this year. You like it.
And his eyes. Theyâre rich, and dark, and the fact that he furrows half of the time that it creates permanent dents between his eyebrows just makes him ridiculously hotter.
The mucus factory must be working overtime tonight because you can feel the slight slippery feeling of lubrication where youâre sitting. Fucking stupid, you think, read the room.
All of sudden, a lightning flashes, lighting up your surroundings before the grumbling roar of thunder follows through. For a second, you can make out the shapes and silhouettes of everything in the room like a photograph. Joel fits rightly in the left third of this main piece in your mind exhibition. You wish you could take screenshots with your eyes and keep it to admire later.
Joel glances out the window. Heat lightning reveals the blobs of clouds outside, and the strong wind is starting to blow debris to rattle the windows. He shifts his focus on you again. âDid you eat?â
âIâm okay,â you shrug. Storm is coming, Joel better go home before it gets worse.
He chuckles. âYes or no?â
That chuckle tickles something deep inside of you. You smile shyly. âYes, Joel. Iâm okay.â
Joel stares at you, and you are pretty sure he senses that you did not, in fact, eat dinner. âIâm starvinâ, actually,â he gets up and takes his flannel shirt off, and then tosses it on the couch before making his way towards the kitchen. You scream internally at the sight of his biceps like a deranged fangirl.
âMind if I take a look in the fridge?â he yells while opening the fridge door. Just being polite. He knows your father will let him dismantle the house and take the pieces home if he wants to.
You free the tangled blanket from around your legs, only noticing now how under your old, sweat-dampened, Marlin Club shirt, your nipples are as erect as firemanâs poles. Was it the temperature, Joel, or both, you canât conclude.
Joel whistles when he finds that the fridge is full. He grabs a can of beer and pops it open, studying the contents of the fridge and thinking of what he can cook for you as he gulps the beer down.
You follow him to the kitchen, jump to sit on the kitchen island as Joel grabs some produce off the fridge and sets them next to you. He looks at you, blinks a couple of times, then occupies himself with the food cabinet over the counter. You try to be helpful by unwrapping the basil and cherry tomatoes.
âSo, howâs school?â Joel breaks the silence as he washes his hands. âAnd donât just say okay, please.â
âYou got me there,â you laugh. âNothing really amusing, really.â
Then a few more superficial, classic-catching-up questions while you both prepare the pesto. Joel asks about the trip to Italy, how your father mentioned proposing to Amy soon, what do you think about that. You ask about his brother Tommy, work, and the average cost to renovate a room, to which Joel answers in detail really nicely. Then come the usual do-you-remember-when stories, melting down the strange and awkward atmosphere between the two of you. Laughters fill up the room. Itâs fun and familiar.
âDid you remember when you used to call me Uncle Joel?â Joel sneers as he tosses a pan to the sink. âYou used to be so nice and polite.â
âI was like six!â You snorted. âAnd you canât even pay me to call you that again, Joel.â
Then, the once-your-pops-and-I anecdotes. Youâve heard some of them from your own fatherâs mouth, but you still listen to Joelâs versions eagerly anyway.
At one point, you start to cough again so Joel instructs you to just sit down on the counter. You donât complainâit means you can just sit back and watch him from the back and imagine how it would feel to run your fingers through his hair.
When Joel stirs the pasta with the pesto sauce, the weather has gone full-blown insane out there.
âYou should stay the night,â you try to sound as nonchalant as possible. His presence is sending arrays of erroneous signals to your reproductive organs, which will most likely result badly if he stays, but how can you let him drive home in this kind of weather?
Joel hands you a fork and pushes a plate of fusilli for you to eat. âEh, weâll see,â he shrugs. âI donât mind drivinâ through a storm, but I canât just leave you alone if you donât feel well.â
âDad told me you got a folded chair smashed through your windshield last summer.â You take a bite, the thick sauce coats your tastebuds and you groan in satisfaction, even though you canât really taste it to the fullest because of your stuffy nose.
âOh, yeah, that.â Joel chuckles. âI was lucky it aimed for the shotgun.â
He eats standing up across you, one elbow on the counter. When you both finish the meal, he takes your plate and starts washing the dishes. You tell him to do it later, and then offer your help, and he says no to both. You insist on drying the dishes anyway, standing side by side with him.
After the very late dinner, the two of you retreat to the living room. Joel asks you to take some medication again and you decline, stating that you feel better already.
âHeadstrong, ainât ya?â Joel sighs. âOkay, sleep then. Wanna sleep in your bed?â
âNot really sleepy,â you shake your head. âFeel free to take Dadâs bed, by the way. You have work in the morning, right?â
âNah, Iâm alright by the couch.â Joel scoots to make room for his legs and lies on his back, groaning like every other old person when they finally get to be horizontal. His feet are dangling on one side, his head on the opposite armrest. You take the old recliner that doesnât even recline anymore near Joelâs feet, facing both the TV and Joel at an angle.
The TV is still on, showing the same game show but already on a later season. You unmute it and watch it together with Joel for five minutes before you realize that none of you has laughed yet, and you ask Joel if he wants to watch a movie instead. He says why not.
You open a streaming service and browse for movies on the home page. Joel probably likes action and other classic old man genre types. You pretend to read some of the summaries and see if Joel perks up at one of them, but he doesnât seem to really care about the TV.
âI donât know what to watch,â you admit. âDo you wanna pick the movie?â
Truth is, Joel canât give a single shit about no goddamn movie. Heâs been distracted by so many thoughts in his mind. But he gestures for you to scroll back up anyway. âLetâs see the trending ones.â
You stop at a tally of newly released and currently popular films at the top of the page, giving Joel a chance to read about them before moving to the next one.
âThis one looks excitinâ.â Joel points at the screen. The poster shows a man in classic Viking attire, staring intently at the viewer with striking blue eyes. Some kind of pelt is draped over his shoulders. His hands are on top of each other, resting on a sword handle, the blade facing the earth. Dried mud and blood are splattered over his face and armor. The Conquest, it says. You donât recognize the actors listed. The summary says something about revenge, passion, blood, power, blah blah. You click play.
The movie opens with a battle scene. The movie looks like it runs out of lighting budget, and you need to squint to be able to tell what they are actually doing. Nothing can be heard except grunts and blades clashing. You look over at Joel to see his expression, but heâs looking at you. He quickly averts his gaze back to the screen.
Twenty minutes pass, and none of you are really paying attention to the plot. Not until the main guy enters a wooden tub filled with steaming hot water with his asscheeks out, and then a woman enters the scene with nothing but a thin white veil covering her body. She drops the cloth and joins him. The warm light from the torches is highlighting her breasts.
âWoah,â you look at Joel again, but he says nothing, but you can see his Adamâs apple moving awkwardly.
They kiss, and he grabs her bosom with his humongous palms and knead them. Then he buries his face between them, with the woman kissing the top of his head. After what feels like a millenia, he lifts her lower half from the water, and then puts her down to sit on the edge of the tub before performing cunnilingus. She moans.
You start to feel a pool of heat brewing inside of you. This feels invasive of their privacy, somehow, with no soundtrack added, just fire crackling and water splashing and erotic moaning.
Joel clears his throat. âUh, maybe we shouldnât watch this,â
âYouâre the one who picked the movie.â you say, eyes fixated on the screen.
âWell, it didnât say nothinâ about eatinâ a lady out in the summary.â
He reaches for the remote and turns the TV off, leaving only the sound of rain hitting your window in your eardrums.
âHey,â you whine. âThatâs not nice. I didnât say yes.â
âItâs late. Go to sleep.â Joel folds his arms over his chest, partly staying warm, partly because heâs so flustered he doesnât know what to do with his hands. He then closes his eyes, knowing damn well heâs far from feeling tired let alone fall asleep.
âWeâre both adults anyways,â you mutter, but Joel doesnât move. Heâs probably actually tired.
Your gaze is affixed on him. He surely doesnât look like heâs sleeping in peace right now but heâs still handsome nonetheless. His old shirt is a tad bit too tight around his biceps. You can see the protruding veins beautifully decorating his arms and hands. His legs are slightly crossing with one ankle on top of another, and his breath is steady. Heâs gorgeous.
In your wildest dreams, you would jump to straddle Joel, and he would grab your hips and fuck you to death. Is it bad that your immune system is fighting one of the worst battles in your life, and yet your number one priority is somehow to get laid, by this man specifically? Itâs both excruciating and foolish.Â
The movie you just saw doesnât help, either. In fact, it makes everything worse. Your mind keeps wandering back to it, the way the man eats the woman out, and then back to Joel, imagining the top of his head would look like when he eats you out. Fuck. You know that if you donât get to touch this man in the next 30 minutes, you are either going to combust or burn everything in the vicinity.
You close your eyes, try to do the mindfulness practice you once saw in a magazine. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. You repeat âRelease me from this earthly desireâ in your head like a rookie buddhist wizard trying to cast a spell with a broken wand. You ball your fists in your lap so hard the joints start to hurt.
Itâs not working.
Your mind keeps wandering back to different scenarios, different positions, different spots around the house. Low grunts, fingertips pressing your sides, tongue between your lipsâŚ
You canât do it anymore. You need release. You need to at least be able to feel something, a little reward for your throbbing clit. Trying your best to be as casual as possible, you pull your folded legs closer to your body, your left heel even closer to your biker-short-covered cunt, and shift your body weight on it.
The pleasure that has been building up there bursts like a balloon. You sigh.
There are two things that Joel is not: young, and oblivious.
Oh, he is totally aware of whatâs happening. You are not doing a good job trying to be subtle. From the non-stop staring, to the constant fidgeting, to the borderline sexual sighs, to the hard nipples, Joel knows you are going through something that is completely different from just being ill.
And he totally understands. Heâs been there, done that. There was a time when his back wasnât hurting and his face hadnât been âgracedâ with crowâs feet and age spots yet, when his hormones were at all-time high and his blood liked nothing more than flowing to his cock recklessly at the slightest inducement. He understands what you are going through.
So when you start grinding yourself onto your left heel followed by soft moans, he is not exactly surprised, just mostly in awe of your debauched audacity.
That is too much, even for him. He clears his throat, hoping youâd catch the hint and stop for good. But you donât, and your eyes are closed and your eyebrows are knitted together in concentration, and your hips are moving slowly, sensually, chasing something, the sight of it stirs something up in his guts.
It is vulgar, and most importantly indecent in every way, but Joel can feel his own arousal creeping up no matter how hard he tries to convince himself that it is not happening.
He calls your name. Your body responds faster than the critically thinking part of your brain and you stop like you just got cursed by Medusa.Â
You can physically feel your heart drop to your ass. Your neck moves stiffly to find his eyes like a broken animatronic. âYeah?â you croak.
âDo you think I donât know what youâre doinâ?â
You blink. Deny? Act stupid? Admit? Deny, deny. Wait, deny? No, act stupid.
âWhat⌠Do you mean?â you say, and you realize that you chose the dialogue option that actually sounds the dumbest.
Joel clicks his tongue. âMight as well hump me if you want it that much.â
Wait, what? Your eyes light up. âReally?â
Joel stares at you in genuine perplexity before lifting one hand up to massage his temples. He takes a deep breath, and in the softest way possibleâlike telling a puppy she canât eat electronic partsâsighs, âNo.â
âOh,â you cover your mouth. âI thought you meantââ
âYeah, yeah. My bad.â he sighs again, sounding significantly more frustrated. He then uses his hands to support himself to a sitting position, composing himself.
Silence. You donât dare to look at Joel, but your cunt keeps pulsing like a metal detector. You understand that the beepingâdesireâwill not die down unless you get the valuable artefact from the bronze ageâJoelâin your hand. Is this time to be bold and brash?
âJoel,â you call, and you can swear that was not a sober decision, but the stage curtains have been pulled back, and you are pushed to the stage to play your part.
âHm?â
âWhat if⌠I hump you anyway?â you stand up, and your knees are slightly buckling but you act tough and bold regardless.
Joelâs jaws opens and stays slightly agape for a while before he says, âThat fever is really messinâ with your brain, huh? Sit down.â
âYouâre bricked up, Joel.â you accuse. You donât actually know for sure since Joel keeps a hand on his lap to cover his crotch, but Joel gulps. Gotcha.
âUnrelated to you.â he hisses in defense.
You scoff.
âJoel, please,â you grouse, voice cracking and desperate. âI want this so bad.â you whisper as you take slow, threatening steps towards Joel until your crotch is not even an inch away from his knee. âI want you so bad.â
âThis ainât right, kid.â Joel puts a hand on the outer side of your arm, and itâs worth pointing out that heâs shaking. âYou know that.â
Joel doesnât tell you that heâs battling demons in his head, and heâs currently losing. A million impulses are catapulting burning boulders onto the gate of his conscience, and all he got is one bleeding, sickly troop with a chipped wooden sword. But he puts his best stern expression despite the fact that his body is betraying him.
He could leave now. Push you away. Clear his head. Come back later. Or not come back at all.
But he knows he doesnât want to. He can hear his blood rushing and his heart singing battle cry. Not to mention his cock, hard and nearly burns a hole through his jeans.
A long pause. You want to push him further, but you know you donât need to. The black marlin printed on your shirt does a worthless attempt at distracting Joel from your hard nipples, putting him into a trance.
Joel takes a deep breath. He knows he has lost. âYou can help yourself, thatâs all,â he nods, more trying to convince himself rather than talking to you. âJust to make you shut up and get rest. Thatâs it.â
Thatâs an unenthusiastic barf-colored green light, but it is a green light nonetheless.
You put your hands on Joelâs shoulder before putting your left knee next to his right leg and lower yourself down onto his thigh, while your other knee rests in front of his crotch and presses onto his raging hard-on. Your cunt pulsates in pleasure upon contact, and you let out a gasp. Joel anxiously places his hands on your sides to keep you steady, one thumb âaccidentallyâ brushing your nipple, earning a whine. You lock gaze with him, and start moving.
The friction sends buzzes up your head. You make each grind count, and every single one feels like heaven despite the layers of fabric between your cunt and his beefy thigh. Moans and Joelâs name spill from your lips indeliberately, and he tightens his grip on your body until his fingertips turn white as if you would fly away with a gust of wind if he doesnât. If you werenât so absorbed in your own pleasure, you wouldâve noticed how shallow and rapid Joelâs breath has become. It turns him on watching you getting off because of him, using him, how your eyelids flutter and your pupils are having a hard time staying in place.
Joel wants to break free from his denim, badly. While he consciously thought, planned, and stated that heâs doing what heâs doing only for your satisfaction and be done with it, it isnât exactly nice having your kneecap pushing button-flies shaped caves on his crotch repeatedly. Especially not when his cock, which probably has its own brain, has been begging to be taken care of, too.
You, on the other side, are having the best time of your life. As your climax is building up in your south region, you smile at Joel, who smiles back. His hand leaves your ribs briefly to brush the hair that is sticking to your sweaty forehead away from your face.
âThat feels good, doesnât it?â
You nod weakly. âSo good, Joel, so good,â
For a moment there you consider kissing him. His face is merely two inches away from you, and he looks ravishing, all sweaty and blushing. And how you just want to have your tongue inside his mouth, his lips all over yours sloppily. But that feels like overstepping boundaries, like a whole uncharted area you canât cross, spreading the flu aside. You opt to put your chin on his shoulder instead, trying to focus on your orgasm.
âI want to see your face,â Joel says in your ear, his beard grazing your cheek. Takes you three whole seconds to process that, and when you do, it tingles your core. Before you can answer, he continues, âYouâre so beautiful like this.â
You pull back, meeting his gaze with flushing cheeks. You donât know what to say, and maybe you donât have to. You continue to be dumbfounded when Joel stops your motion and helps you to stand up.
âHold on,â he says as he undoes the buttons of his jeans. âI need to take these off.â
He quickly kicks the jeans off his legs, revealing a dark gray boxer briefs under. A wet patch adorns the bulge right in the center. He then manspreads and gestures for you to come back onto him, to which you comply. âCâmere,â he says, âI need to feel you on me.â
You straddle him, positioning your cunt right on his cock, and on everybody and their mother, it feels good. No, it feels right. Joel lets out a groan that cuts into a gasp when you start to grind. âFuck, yeah,â he grabs your ass, helping you settle on a rhythm.
The contour of Joelâs cock, albeit still covered by the fabric of his boxer briefs, touches every last nerve ending of your cunt in such a different way that his thigh did. You pick your pace up, getting the pleasure to build up again.Â
âJoel, Iâm gonna come,â you moan, voice quivering. You rake your fingers through his hair, your noses almost touching.
âKeep going, baby,â he says through a smile. âDonât hold back. You sound so pretty.â
The encouragement is shooting up fireworks in your lower belly, and you start making more sounds. Youâre close. So close.
âMakinâ me so hard all night, you,â
You whimper as you come, hips convulsing. Time slows down, and it feels like your cunt is pulled towards a strong gravitational force within your own body as you are sinking down a quicksand, all while pleasure forces your brain to reboot itself.
âThatâs it, thatâs it. There you go. Youâre so good.â
Joel holds the back of your head while youâre laying on his chest, limp. When you pull yourself away from him, he presses a palm to your cheek, smiling. âAttagirl.â
When you finally gather yourself, you pull away from Joel, leaving a huge wet spot on where you just had your cunt on, and scoot to the spot next to him on the couch. You are about to lean onto his shoulder when he stands up and picks his jeans up from the floor. He sees the wet trail of arousal you left on the fabric in the thigh area and snickers.
âDamn, kid, youâre practically a snail,â he points to it. âPoor thing.â
You wince. âWhat are you doing?â
âPuttinâ my pants on?â he answers in the exact same tone, fixing the position of his boxer briefs.
âBut you havenât even come yet!â you protest. âWhat the fuck? Take them off!â
âThatâs not what I agreed to, remember? I help you come so youâll shut up and sleep. Youâve come, now shut up, and go to sleep.â he lays it out like basic math while you press the base of your palms onto your eyelids, confounded.
âYouâre a sick person,â you shake your head, and then point to his crotch. âYouâre literally still hard.â
âThat has nothinâ to do with anythinâ.â
You stare at the open space, like youâre trying to break the fourth wall in a sitcom. Can you believe this guy?
âJoel, your line is âIâm going to fuck you so hard.â Now letâs start again from the top.â
Joel, whoâs struggling trying to fit his bulge back in the jeans without hurting it, stops fussing with his button-fly shortly to push your head backâsoftlyâto the couch. âSleep,â he drags his palm over your face to close your eyelids.
âJoooooel,â
âYour line is âYes, Joel, good night.ââ
âYes, Uncle Joel, good night, Uncle Joel,â you mock as you swiftly jump from the couch and pull his jeans down to his ankle and force him to step out of it. You hear Joel yelling hey, hey, hey as he tries to simultaneously fight you and not hurt you. You throw the pair of pants across the room with all your might and it lands with a loud thud.
âWhat are your pants made of, steel?â
âWhat is wrong with you?â he takes a step to fetch it, but you stand up and push him back to the couch. Joel is for sure going easy on you, because if he wanted to, he could definitely launch you through the walls. Instead, he just accepts his fate and stares at the ceiling, defeated.
âNobody sleeps with jeans on, Joel,â you reach for the TV remote again. âNow letâs watch something again and then sleep.â
âWeâre not watching the viking movie again.â
âWeâre not watching the viking movie again,â you repeat. âWeâre watching SpongeBob.â
Joel groans.
âWhat, you donât like SpongeBob?â
âNot my era,â Joel says. âI watched Gumby. Tom and Jerry. The Muppet Show.â
âNo wonder you act like the heckling old guys.â
âI donât, but, sure,â
âOh, youâre more like the eagle. So serious all the time.â
Joel rolls his eyes. You play the first episode of the first season of SpongeBob Squarepants, and the familiar intro begins. You take a look at Joel in the corner of your eyes, how he has one of his forearm on the top of his head, bicep almost as thick as his head. The other hand is resting on his thigh, and you can tell that heâs at least still half-hard. You wonder how he looks under those boxer briefs.
On the screen, Squidward and Mr. Krabs are climbing a post with a sea of raging anchovies under them. Joelâs lips slightly turn upward. Ha, eat that, Mr. Old Cartoon Head.
You shift so that youâre on your back, legs resting on Joelâs lap. He gives you a look, but doesnât say anything. Minutes later, totally absorbed with SpongeBob pestering his neighbor with a reef blower, he has a hand on your ankle, caressing it without much thought.
They would have written about you in a Greek tragedy the way youâre consumed by greed and lust. When your toes stroke Joelâs bulge, totally by accident and not precalculated at all, you pretend like youâre captivated by the TV. Itâs hard and you can definitely discern the ridge of possible veins and the head of his cock.
Joel exhales, sounding so done and tired. âI know you were going to do this,â
But he doesnât push you away. And that excites you.
You donât say anything or look away from the screen, but you keep rubbing the outline of his cock, which is now more visible and grows slightly larger, with the space between your big and index toe. Your brain automatically puts the ice clinking in a vase while SpongeBob is getting dry under Sandyâs treedome as background noise to amplify Joelâs restrained grunts.
You like this. You like having Joel wrapped around your finger. Soon after, you withdraw your legs and sit up, causing him to open his eyes over the sudden halt.
You stare at him, bold. âWould you like my mouth?â
Joel nods.
You donât even wait for a second. Joel helps you take off his boxer briefs, the length of his hard-on springs out like jack-in-the-box. You admire how it looks, how the tip is totally sticky and glistening, before lowering your tongue. Joal lets out a sound akin to a whimper as you let your saliva ooze down the underside of his cock and quickly retrieve it into your mouth using your tongue. He tastes slightly salty, like sweat. And if you could smell better youâd see how hypnotizing his scent is, like calling you to stick his cock down your throat until the world collapses.
âThatâs it,â Joel says, out of breath. His cock is now grazing the soft wall of your cheek, and he wonders how experienced you actually are because you definitely donât act like an amateur. You use one elbow to support yourself, the other one taking turns massaging his balls and the base of his cock.
The only downside of this is that Joel canât really look at your face. He craves the sight of you, how your lips are wrapped around his cock, and how your cheek is bulging like a squirrel full of him. One of his hands crawls up your back under your shirt, rubbing it before it finds a new target: your breasts. He kneads on one, thumb flicking the bud. You canât help but moan and take him deeper, sending vibrations from your throat to his cock.
Joel knows he wonât last much longer, and he would very much like to keep this thing going as long as possible. So he asks you to stop, averting your disappointment by lifting up your shirt and sucking on one nipple. Heâs surprisingly tender with it, taking his time. You reach a hand to his cock again, trying to at least get him off with your hand, but he pulls your wrists back and locks them on your sides.
âJoel,â you whine. âFuck me. Please.â
âNo can do,â Joel answers as his lips are trailing down to your stomach, where he peppers kisses all over. You scoot backwards and like reading your mind, he tugs the hem of your shorts down to your ankle before yanking it away, revealing your throbbing, desperate cunt. He then dives down, nose pressing against your mound as his tongue explores the new treasure island.
Just like in the movie.
You try to grab on something, anything, but the leather couch does nothing but squeaks, and Joel instinctively laces his fingers with yours. The view of the top of your head is exactly how you imagined it would be. The moans released from your lips are rather loud, especially when Joel creates a suction cup with his lips right on your clit.
âJoel, Joel,â you grasp his hands with all your might. âThis is fucking unfair, Iâm soâ Iâm gonnaââ
Before you get to finish your sentence, your body already decides that itâs time for another release. Your heels are planted firmly against the couch as your hips lift to the air, and Joel lets go. He kneels before your cunt, pumps himself to oblivion and comes all over you before you get to collect yourself, staining your stomach and breasts. Later youâll realize that the first spurt went a little bit rogue and landed on your hair.
âFuck you, man,â you complain, sticking out a middle finger at him. âI was supposed to make you come.â
Joel rests his head on the couch armrest, eyes closed. âYou did.â
âI meant technically,â you attempt to nudge him with your leg, but he dodges and stands up to grab the washcloth he used to compress you with earlier. He then wipes your stomach and breasts with it, the cold water making you squirm.
âWhat now?â you ask when he hands you your clothes.
âSleep. Itâs four in the morninâ.â he says as he puts his stained, sticky, wet boxer briefs on and sits on the recliner. So you canât drive me mad anymore, he says.
You whine, but you realize that your eyelids are actually very heavy. âBlowjob first time in the morning?â you offer before letting yourself drift off.
âThought you were sâpposed to be sick.â Joel shakes his head. But he grins.
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⼠falling asleep besides you for the first time Ⳡw/ Toji, Naoya, Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Higuruma, Sukuna & Choso
a/n: this came over me like a fever dream during another episode of insomnia. some of those drabbles are a little sad, i apologize. it's what you get with all those tragics characters. reader is gn!
word count: 1.4k
đđđđ doesnât even want to fall asleep; itâs not like he had a good night of rest ever since⌠well. He tells himself heâs just gonna close his eyes for a bit, stretched out on the couch next to you, his weary head in your lap. Thereâs still blood on his hands and on the side of his face, heâs gonna get cleaned up in just a bit, he mumbles, but the words come out heavy and drowsy, and your fingers are tangled in his hair now and your voice is this sweet whisper, baby, I love you anyway, and TojiâToji just gives in. For the first time, sleep doesnât come over him as a heavy veil, as if heâs drowning; for once itâs something peaceful, something quiet. Something he welcomes. Next to you, you with your fingers woven between his, you who loves even the broken parts of him, you with quiet love and reassurance that youâre still gonna be there when he wakes up again.
đđđđđđđđ hasnât had another warm body next to him under the covers in a long time. He doesnât realize how much he missed this until your body melts into his, one leg swung over his thighs, your arm sneaking around his waist and your head finding its spot in the crook of his neck. His cheek falls softly against your forehead when he pulls you closer, breathing in the scent of you thatâs the closest to home he ever felt, pressing kisses on the crown of your head. Itâs not just lustâoh, he wants to devour you, but thereâll be time in the morningâitâs the absence of loneliness and unspoken confessions. Higuruma can tell when heâs falling in love and in this moment heâs wading deep, deeper through his feelings for you, biting his tongue so they donât spill out all over the pillows and into you. You already know anyway, and when the sun comes up again, youâll lick them from the cave of his mouth like a prayer.
đđđđđ canât fall asleep, not on his wedding night, not when your mouth is whispering all those words heâs demanding from you. His cheek is pressed against your palm while heâs pinning you down, almost nuzzling into it like a touch-starved stray, golden eyes lingering on you. Say youâre mine. Again. Say who you belong to. Mine. Mine. All mine. He isnât aware how pleading he sounds, how raspy his voice gets the more you obey, every time you sigh his name so softly into his open mouth. Naoya doesnât care if youâre lying, as long as you wear your wedding band on your ring finger for everyone to see. Youâre his to keep now, and if he could have it his way, you would be forbidden to leave this bed forever; he wasnât aware just how much he had craved the presence of another being by his side at night, one who doesnât leave once he had his share of pleasure. No, youâre his now, and before sleep eventually finds him, heâll make sure to sink his teeth into you till his name rolls off your tongue like a lullaby.Â
đđđđđđ doesnât let go of your hand; heâs afraid itâll go cold if he allows himself to let his guard down even for one second. This isnât how he had imagined spending the first night with you. Not under the fluorescent lights of the infirmary, not with your body wrapped in gauze and machinery monitoring your heart rate. It dawns on him as heâs sitting on your bedsideâhow attached heâs gotten to you, then: How he had almost lost you today. He squeezes your hand tighter and sighs, his weary head sinking down on the mattress. Your fingers twitch and find their way into his hair, combing through it weakly. As if they say, itâs okay, Iâm alive, youâre not to blame. So please donât leave and take all your love with you. And Nanami takes your hand once again and kisses your fingertips, pressing promises against your skin, promises of a future where you and him can just be, one where he can finally put all of these feelings down, down in your open and gentle palms for you to keep.
đđđđđ is clingy throughout the day, but even more so at night. He doesnât like the eerie quiet that settles in once the sun has sunken, not when he can listen to your steady breathing next to him instead, so naturally he feels a rush of joy when you push your futons together for the first time. His heart is beating way too fast to find sleep now, his eyes taking in everything about your sleeping figure, from the way your chest rises and falls to how your nose scrunches slightly for a moment. Choso wants to know what youâre dreaming about, what colors your dreams are, and if heâs ever in them. He wants to engrave himself into your being, wants to keep you wrapped in his arms forever. His kisses feel light against your skin, careful not to wake you but enough to fill his desire. Choso loves you with his entire being, and sleep is merely an obstacle, cutting away from your time spent togetherâthough he must admit, his eyes flutter shut quite easily in your embrace.
đđđđ realizes that his idea of âsweets in bedâ now has a double meaning, seeing you sprawled out in his sheets with candy wrapping paper clenched between your fist and more of it lying on the floor. Cute, he canât help but murmur as he lays down next to you on his side, mustering you with an amused smile on his lips. When he told you to knock yourself out on the sweet souvenirs he brought, he didnât assume you would take it that literally. His thumb brushes over the corner of your mouth, collecting some of the powdered sugar thatâs still stuck there, and Gojo could swear he never tasted anything sweeter than this when he brings it to his tongue. He gently replaces the trash you hold onto in your sleep with his fingers, woven between yours, and pulls you close to him, his tall figure embracing you; and for the first time in a long time, Gojo feels a wave of calm wash over him, allowing him to exhale and sink into a dream almost as sweet as you.
đđđđđđ doesnât know why he keeps entertaining your antics. Sharing a bed, sleeping together side by side? How utterly foolish, but as to be expected from a mere human; theyâve always been like this, seeking comfort and warmth when theyâre the most vulnerable. Of course a predator like Sukuna wouldnât have to worry about sleeping safe and sound. Yet still; he canât help but let his gaze linger on you, wrapped up in his embrace, four arms holding you in place on top of him. Everyone else would freeze in fear, but you? You snore quietly without a single worry in the world, knowing you have a king watching over you in your slumber. Sukuna huffs but still brushes a strand of hair out of your face. Maybe heâll tell Uraume that youâre off the menu, for now. As long as you know your placeâin his embrace, wearing his marks with pride, providing a sense of comfort Sukuna had never known before. Fool, he mutters and rests his chin on top of your head, not sure if those words were for him or you.Â
đđđđ doesnât question when you knock on the door of his dorm room, asking for shelter after a particular nightmare. He hasnât found any sleep yet anyway. When he lifts up the covers for you to slip under, heâs surprised that you donât even hesitate to do so, wrapping yourself around his body as if it was molded for that only. Geto can tell that youâre trying not to tremble, but the nightmare still lingers. He knows it all too well. His fingers brush through your hair when he pulls you closer to his chest, as if this could prevent you from falling apartâthough deep down heâs aware that he might be the one on the verge of breaking. You know it too, donât you? Geto is tired, oh, so tired. The kind of tired sleep canât fix, and he canât help but wonder if this would also be the last time that youâre in his arms, clinging onto someone who is long gone; a version of him that he shed together with his dream of letting himself love you.
#jjk x reader#toji x reader#nanami x reader#gojo x reader#sukuna x reader#naoya x reader#higuruma x reader#geto x reader#choso x reader#nanami kento#toji fushiguro#naoya zenin#gojo satoru#geto suguru#choso kamo#ryomen sukuna#higuruma hiromi#jjk x you#jjk drabbles#jjk imagines#jjk scenarios#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x gender neutral reader
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âCome to drug my girlfriend again?â
part 2
synopsis: Sylus hates Caleb, Caleb hates Sylus. Thatâs it, thatâs the fic.
content: sylus x afab!reader; use of Y/N; established relationship; caleb cameo; caleb acts like caleb; mentions of being drugged; general angst; mostly proofread
word count: ~3.4k
a/n: iâm a sylus girlie through and through but caleb intrigues the absolute shit out of me. including his perspective in this was very interesting and i hope i did his character justice. also, i feel that based on what sylus said in his main story, he knows that caleb is/has been alive and what heâs been up to, and caleb being involved with ever and knowing MCâs whereabouts in the N109 zone, know who sylus is. this fic operates under that assumption
The only person youâd told about your mission to Skyhaven was Sylus. And now, having returned from the harrowing journeyâafter being reunited with your childhood best friend Caleb, who you thought was deadâSylus was the only person you wanted to see.
Your boyfriend had been keeping tabs on you the best he could while you were gone, using his contacts in Skyhaven to relay information. But he had to be careful not to tip off anyone from the Farspace Fleet lest it ruin your cover, or worse, get you hurt. The second you texted him you were coming home, however, he stopped everything he was doing, hopped on his bike, and sped straight for your apartment.
Sylus was there when you walked through the door, hauling you into his arms and hugging you so tightly you could hardly breathe. It didnât phase you anymore to find him in your apartment, knowing he had no problem coming and going as he pleased.
âMiss me?â you teased, whispering in his ear.
He huffed. âNot in the least,â he said, hugging you tighter.
âSy, I love you, but I canât breathe.â
Finally his gripped loosened enough that you could breathe normally again. You pushed back, hands on his shoulders, and just admired his face after not having seen it for quite some time.
âEnjoying the view?â Sylus asked.
You smiled. âI always do.â You placed a chaste kiss on his lips. âI did miss you though.â
He smiled that soft smile reserved only for you, and you melted at the sight. âI missed you too.â
âI have a lot to tell you, but Iâd like to change first if you donât mind,â you said. âWait for me on the couch?â
âOf course, take your time, Iâm not going anywhere.â
Reluctantly, Sylus lowered you to the ground.
You quickly changed into more comfortable clothes and joined Sylus on the couch, where he pulled you into his lap, the need to hold you far too strong for him to ignore.
âSo,â he began, fingers brushing along your back, âwhere do you want to start?â
You sucked in a deep breath, the words weighing heavily on your tongue, as if saying them aloud will finally make the truth sink in. âUm, I donât know how else to say this so, it turns out Caleb is alive. Has been this whole time.â
Sylusâs expression remained neutral. âYou saw him while you were up there?â
You nodded. âHeâs the Farspace Fleetâs Colonel, and heâsâŚnot the same as I remember him.â
Sylus brushed a strand of hair out of your face, his fingers grazing your cheek. âTell me.â
You launched into your story, detailing everything that happened, from investigating the bombing site undercover to the first interview with Caleb, the switch in personality from Colonel to best friend, to staying with him in his home, visiting Mia in the hospital and running into Zayne, finding Kevi and the Aether Core in his possession.
Talking about the night you were supposed to retrieve Kevi and bring him to Zayne, you got a bit choked up. Having to voice what happened, what you had been in denial about but knew you needed to admit, was perhaps the most difficult of all.
âI wasnât feeling well that day,â you said, âand before I âwent to bed,â Caleb gave me some medicine to help.â You averted your gaze. âAll of a sudden, I was so exhausted I couldnât keep my eyes open, and I ended up falling asleep before I even realized it.â
Sylus tensed beneath you, the unspoken pieces slowly clicking into place.
âSyâŚI think Caleb⌠I think he may have drugged me.â
The betrayal was still raw, maybe more painful now that youâd said it aloud for the first time since it happened.
Abruptly, Sylus removed you from his lap, placing you gently onto the couch before rising and heading straight for the door.
Confused, and perhaps a little desperate, you grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. âSylus, where are you going?â
Without turning to you he said with such lethal calm a shiver went down your spine, âIâm going to visit Skyhaven and have a chat with the Colonel.â
You snapped to your feet, wrapping both your arms around Sylusâs. âSy, please, you canât.â
He looked at you, fury blazing like an inferno in his red eyes. âHe drugged you, Y/N,â he snarled. âThat cannot go unpunished.â
While you greatly appreciated Sylusâs well-placed protectiveness, your feelings were still a jumbled mess when it came to Caleb. But you knew one thing, you didnât want him to get hurt, and you certainly didnât want Sylus to be the one hurting him.
You shook your head, voicing your thoughts aloud. âI donât want you to hurt him. I know what he did was wrong, and please believe when I say Iâm furious about it too, but heâs important to me, Sy. I thought he was dead and I just got him back, we both need to be a little more forgiving than usual, for my sake.â
Sylus was conflicted. The instinct to protect was near overwhelming, but truly the last thing he ever wanted to do was upset you. And killing hurting your beloved childhood best friend would do far more than just upset you.
So he tamped down his instincts and relaxed in your grip. âFine.â
You breathed a sigh of a relief. âThank you.â
âBut if I have the displeasure of meeting him, I will be saying something,â Sylus said, leaving no room for negotiation.
âOkay, I can live with that,â you agreed. You pulled him back down onto the couch. âI have more to tell you, will you sit and listen this time?â
He shot you a withering look. âYes, sweetie.â
So you finished your story, telling him about the strange man named Viper, how you found Caleb with the oddly-behaving Kevi and âthe Professor,â and your departure that felt like youâd left with more unfinished business than when youâd first arrived.
Sylus kept his word and sat, giving you his full attention despite the fact that his anger still simmered in his veins. He certainly shared your sentiment regarding unfinished business, this was not the first or last time he was going to hear about Caleb. He just hoped he wouldnât have to kill the Colonel should he cross that line with you, something he was wisely keeping to himself.
â
Itâd be two weeks since youâd returned from Skyhaven. Youâd spent a fair amount of it with Sylus, trying to make up for the time spent apart.
Caleb was always in the back of your mind, though, and the two of you had shared brief conversations over text during that time. You were still wrapping your head around the fact that Caleb was back in your life, albeit in a much different role than heâd once had.
You were eternally grateful to have Sylus by your side, he was the solid ground you so desperately needed to stand on right now, and he was more than happy to be that for you.
He was with you currently, the two of you settling in for a night-in at your apartment. Youâd ordered take-out and were patiently waiting for the food to be delivered so you could start the movie youâd carefully chosen.
Lounging on the couch with your head in Sylusâs lap, you scrolled mindlessly through your phone, flipping it to show him silly posts every now and then. The sense of comfort that overwhelmed you, having such an innocuous night with your boyfriend, was a welcome reprieve to the constant anxiety plaguing you these past two weeks.
The sound of your doorbell cut through the tranquil atmosphere.
You and Sylus locked eyes, the same look of confusion on both of your faces. It wasnât like the delivery person hadnât shown up at your door before, but it was certainly unusual considering your instructions said to leave the food in the lobby.
Sylus lightly patted the top of your head. âIâll get it.â
You lifted your upper body enough for Sylus to slide out from under you and promptly lay back down to resume your scrolling.
You listened as Sylus walked to, and opened your door, then felt rather than heard the pregnant pause before your boyfriend spoke.
âWell, if it isnât the Colonel of the Farspace Fleet. Come to drug my girlfriend again?â
A myriad of emotions flickered in Calebâs eyes. Surprise. Recognition. Fury. Regret. Guilt. But Caleb was well versed in handling difficult situations, and had no problem slipping on a mask of charisma, while inside he was positively seething.
You bolted for the door.
âY/N didnât mention having a boyfriend when she was in Skyhaven,â Caleb said cheerfully.
You skidded to a halt behind Sylus, panic icing your veins seeing your childhood best friend unexpectedly at your door, holding your bag of take-out in one hand, having a death-glare competition with your boyfriend.
âI didnât exactly have the time to mention it, Caleb,â you said, trying to cut through the thick tension in the air. âYou didnât tell me you were stopping by, or that you stole our dinner.â
Caleb shrugged. âI was in the area, figured Iâd drop in and see what you were up to.â His gaze flicked to Sylus before returning to you. âIf you wanted pork ribs you know you couldâve just asked me, right pip-squeak?â
Sylus went rigid at the pet name.
You held back a groan, instead politely asking, âWhy donât you come in so I can properly introduce you?â
Sylus hated that you said that.
Caleb loved that you did.
âSure, wouldnât want your dinner to get cold standinâ out in the hall all night,â Caleb said.
You pulled Sylus away from the door to allow Caleb entry. Having the two men, both broad and tall, taking up the entryway made this situation all the more suffocating.
You swiped the take-out from Calebâs hand, grabbed Sylusâs, and dragged him with you to the kitchen with Caleb following close behind.
Placing the bag on the counter, you whirled to face your childhood best friend, far more nervous than you shouldâve been to introduce your boyfriend for the first time. Neither of you had had significant others to introduce before, in fact you pretended to be Calebâs girlfriend in college so the girls would leave him alone. But since Caleb was gone, you could no longer interfere with each otherâs love livesâŚ
You cleared your throat. âCaleb, this is Skye, my boyfriend. Skye, this is Caleb, my best friend from childhood.â
Calebâs eyes darkened in a way that was still unfamiliar to you but not foreign, and a wolfish grin spread over his lips. âY/N,â he drawled, his voice dropping, âyou know you canât lie to me.â
You froze, Sylusâs fingers tightening around yours. âWhat are you talking about?â
Caleb looked languidly at Sylus. âYou know as well as I do his name isnât Skye.â The dark look vanished from his eyes as they settled on you, instead reflecting a deep concern. âCan we go talk, pip?â
âAbsolutely not,â Sylus snarled. âShe isnât going anywhere with you.â
You gave Caleb your back to face Sylus who was glaring menacingly at the Colonel. You reached up and cupped his cheek. âSy.â His gaze snapped to yours, softening slightly. âIâm going to go talk to him.â
He would never deny you anything, nor tell you what you could or couldnât do. You were your own person, who could make your own choices, even if he emphatically disagreed. He knew you could handle yourself, but this supposed childhood best friend had already drugged you once, and Sylus did not want to find out what else he was willing to do.
Sylusâs brow buckled. âSweetie, please. I donât trust him.â
Caleb scoffed.
You shot him a glare over your shoulder.
âI know you donât,â you said to Sylus, stroking his cheek, âbut I need you to trust me.â
He did, wholeheartedly.
With a resigned sigh, Sylus dipped his head, brushing his lips along your temple before whispering in your ear, âIâll be watching, just call for me if you need help.â
You turned your head and kissed his cheek. âI will, I promise.â
Squeezing his hand and flashing him your most reassuring smile, your attention shifted to Caleb, who stood there looking as murderous as Sylus had when heâd opened your apartment door.
âCaleb,â you snapped, breaking him out of his trance. âLetâs go.â
â
You and Caleb didnât go far, opting to sit off to the side on the steps leading into your apartment complex. Perched on the branch of a nearby tree was Mephisto, his ruby red eyes trained intently on you as Sylus watched from inside.
âOkay,â you said, âwhat did you want to talk about?â
Caleb angled his body toward you, grabbing your hands as if they were the most delicate things in the world. âY/N, what are you thinking?â he asked, that same concern from earlier bleeding into his voice. âYou know who he is, donât you?â
âOf course I do,â you said.
His gaze hardened slightly. âYou know and yet youâre still with him? The leader of Onychinus? Do you have any idea the things heâs done, the things heâs capable of?â
You snatched your hands away from him, your temper flaring. What right did he have to question you like this? He didnât get to come back into your life after almost a year of thinking he was gone forever and just tell you what to do.
âI am well aware of what Sylus has done and what he is capable of,â you nearly growled. âBut I know who he is at his core and in his heart. That is whatâs important to me, that is the man I fell in love with.â
Love. You were in love with this guy?
Calebâs face fell and a wave of guilt crashed over you.
You took his right hand in yours, saying much softer, âJust because someone does bad things doesnât mean theyâre a bad person. You of all people should understand that.â
âI was just trying to protect you,â Caleb whispered, the pain in his voice clear as he stared at your hands. âAll I want is to make sure youâre safe.â
âI know Caleb,â you murmured, trying to catch his gaze. âIâm safe with Sylus.â
Caleb shook his head, like he couldnât believe what he was hearing, because he couldnât believe it. He was the only one who could protect you and keep you safe. He was the only one you were supposed to love. How could he let another manâthe leader of Onychinus, no lessâcome into your life and take you from him? He knew he was gone for a year but he was back now, who else did you need but him?
But Caleb also knew that eliminating this new threat in the form of your current boyfriend wouldnât be as easy as he wanted it to. You clearly cared for this guyâloved him evenâso heâd have to continue playing the long game lest he ruin any chance he had left to be with you.
You sucked in a deep breath, then blew it out slowly. âLook Caleb, I want you in my life, youâre my best friend, but we need to have some boundaries, okay?â
âBoundaries?â Caleb echoed, his brows pinching. âSince when have we ever had boundaries?â
âSince now,â you responded firmly. âYou canât just show up at my door without saying anything. Iâm happy to have you over, but we have to plan it first.â
He nodded, a spark igniting in his eyes. He could do that. If it made you happy, then he would do it for you. âOkay, easy, done. Anythinâ else you got for me?â
You couldnât help the small smile lifting the corners of your lips. It was so much easier with him when he acted like his old self. You missed this Caleb.
âI need you to get along with Sylus, for my sake,â you said, squeezing his hand. âPut aside whatever pissing contest I know you two already have because I donât want my best friend and my boyfriend hating each otherâs guts.â
Calebâs expression didnât falter despite the rage he felt boiling in his blood. âThat goes both ways ya know,â he said with a rather disarming grin. âYouâll have to talk to your boyfriend about that too.â
It physically hurt Caleb to call Sylus that cursed word, but he had an award-worthy performance to put on if he ever hoped to replace the Onychinus leader as the only thing heâd ever wanted to be to you.
You rolled your eyes. âPlease donât start.â
He laughed, and though it sounded genuine, it was far more forced than he led on. âOkay, okay,â he conceded. âThat it?â
âYou sound like you want me to give you more boundaries.â
âYou can give me whatever you want, pip-squeak.â Preferably your undying devotion, but heâd work on that.
âCaleb,â you admonished but he merely grinned wider in response. With a sigh, you let go of his hand and pushed yourself to your feet. âIâm glad we had this talk.â
He rose as well, towering over you. âMe too,â he murmured. âIâm happy you want me to be in your life again.â
âI never wanted you to leave it,â you told him earnestly. âAnd as much as I hate to say this, you better go. My dinner is probably cold by now and I need to go talk to Sylus, alone.â
âDidnât mean to interrupt dinner,â Caleb quipped. âSeriously though, next time you want pork ribs, just call me, okay?â
You laughed. âAll right, all right.â You started pushing him down the steps. âNow go, go. Text me when youâre home so I know youâre safe.â
Calebâs chest tightened. Despite everything, you still wanted him safe, you still cared about him. He would cling to this like a lifeline.
âText me when you get upstairs so I know youâre safe,â he shot back, meaning to be playful but coming across more hostile than anything.
You frowned. âI told you already, Iâm safe with Sylus.â
He smiled to ease the tension and was relieved when it worked. âJust humor me, âkay?â
âWhatever.â You gave him one last shove. âDonât be a stranger, Caleb.â
âI wonât, pip-squeak, I promise.â
And he had every intention of keeping that promise and then some.
â
Sylus flung open the door before you could even reach for the handle, checking you over with a careful precision, making sure not a hair was out of place.
You patted his shoulders. âIâm okay, Sy, we just talked.â
âI donât like the way he speaks to you,â Sylus grumbled, not stopping his thorough inspection. âItâs like he thinks youâre his possession or something.â
âYou say all the time that I belong to you,â you teased.
He cut you a fierce glare. âThatâs different, I donât treat you as though youâre an object for me to claim. Youâre a person, Y/N.â
Maybe you were naive, but you didnât think Caleb thought of you in such a way. You werenât going to argue about it though. Your date night had been ruined enough, adding a fight into the mix would only further sour your mood and his.
âNo, you donât treat me like that,â you said, knowing he was looking for your reassurance, and you were more than happy to give it because it was the truth.
Sylus visibly relaxed. âYou look exhausted.â
âI am exhausted.â You pouted. âI just wanted to spend a quiet night in with you.â
He smoothed your hair as he tucked you close to his chest. âThe nightâs still young, we have plenty of time to do just that.â
âOur dinner is cold.â
âWe can heat it up.â
You wrapped your arms around his waist and peered up at him. âNothing���s going to change between us just because Calebâs back. We can talk more about it tomorrow, but I need you to know that.â
He nodded. âI know, sweetie, I wasnât worried.â
No, Sylus was not worried about you, he was however, incredibly suspicious of what Caleb had in store.
But that was a tomorrow problem, tonight he would give you the date you wanted with no more mention of your childhood best friend.
You nuzzled your face into his chest. âI love you, Sy.â
Sylus kissed the top of your head. âI love you, Y/N.â He drew back, bracing his hands on your hips. âShall we go warm our dinner?â
You smiled. âYes please.â
As you trailed behind your boyfriend to the kitchen, you quickly pulled out your phone, firing off a text to Caleb letting him know you were safe.
Still outside your apartment complex, Caleb stared at the notification on his own phone. He kissed the necklace clutched tightly in his hand as a sense of victory washed over him.
#love and deepspace#sylus x reader#sylus x mc#l&ds sylus#lnds sylus#sylus x you#love and deepspace sylus#sylus angst#love and deepspace caleb#l&ds caleb#lads caleb#caleb angst#love and deepspace angst
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MC falls asleep on him
_______
Lucifer:
ââŚ?!â Is what Lucifer is thinking as your head drops onto his shoulder.
You had cajoled him into doing some of his constant paperwork in a bigger chair for a change. So thereâs room for you to sit next to him! Youâre not even demanding his attention, or the spare time that he doesnât have, youâre being very considerate, you just wanted sit next to him, thatâs all, you had promised!
Lucifer caved, because he is very soft for his humanâeven though heâs loathe to look like it. You were in fact being considerate⌠so he had brought a stack of relatively low-importance papers out of his office, into the living room.
You were sitting on a couch together, him with his stack of administrative papers and you with a homework assignment. You finished yours quickly, so you ended up playing a game on your DDD as you lean against him.
He checks on you periodically out of the corner of his eye. Heâs relaxed thoughâas relaxed as Lucifer gets. This is peaceful. Meditative, almost. Heâs happy. All his brothers are elsewhere, his tasks are not too overwhelming, he gets to have a nice, calming afternoon sitting in companionable silence with his favourite housemateâŚ
A sudden weight falling on him jolts him out of his trance. Your cheekbone thunks against his shoulder. He blinks. Processing.
In quick succession, his brain goes like â..?!â then âit is mid-afternoon why are you sleepingâ and âhave we been overworking our human?â and âaww. MC really does trust me that much.â
He adjusts the way youâre situated so youâre more comfortable as he finishes up the last of his work. When heâs done, he takes a moment to just observe. To appreciate your trust in him. Also, to congratulate himself again for his part in the creation of the exchange program, because it brought you into his life.
(He tries to ignore the stubborn twinge of nostalgic heartache he feels as well. Youâre reminding him so much of Belphie, from back when his relationship with him was good. Heâd never admit it, but he misses having his babiest brother fall asleep on him like this.)
Lucifer gathers up his papers, then picks you up, being careful not to jostle you too much. Let no one ever say he doesnât take good care of his human. He carries you to your room to put you to bed. Clearly you need the extra sleep. Or⌠well, he tries to. Youâre holding onto him pretty insistently.
He expects himself to feel irritated, but⌠no. He canât help but feel a little smug, actually. Itâs cute, youâre cute, you donât seem to want him to leave you. So⌠fine. Heâll oblige. For a short break.
(An hour or two later, youâll wake up to the smells and sounds of dinner being prepared. Youâre⌠not under your blanket? No, youâre covered by Luciferâs ridiculously long coat. Itâs warm, soft. It smells like him. In this moment, itâs impossible to miss how loved you are.)
_______
Mammon:
The first time this happened (in your room, watching movies without any of his brothers for once), Mammon was stunned. He had frozen up, stuttered some nonsense to no one in particular, then quickly slapped his free hand over his mouth as he realized he would wake you if he didnât immediately chill out.
Now though? Youâve been in his life for a while. Heâs your oldest friend here. Those movie nights had become a habit, even though it remained rare to have one with no one else joining in. So this has happened a lot, and heâs gotten used to it. He doesnât react so outwardly anymore, not unless one of his brothers show up to make fun of him.
If they try it, Mammon is rather aggressive about shushing them. At first, because he hated to be so obvious about how much he cares about you, but now that heâs a bit more used to it, itâs because he doesnât want them to disturb you. He feels like heâs protecting you by keeping his brothers from waking you up. Sometimes, heâs the one who wakes you up by telling them to shut up just a bit too loudly, or silently gesturing for them to be quiet or go away a little too enthusiastically.
His brothers roast him even more for that. Poor thing.
Time and time again, you pass out on his shoulder. During a movie, mid relaxed hangouts with various groups of the brothers, in the rare times when hanging out solo with Mammon is a relaxing low-energy affair, while studying, during the lunch break at school, even in class sometimes. His heart warms, and he canât help but smile at the familiar feel of you conked out on his shoulder again. He doesnât even mind if you snore.
Mammon is usually such a loud, high energy person. Neither you nor him finds anything wrong with that of course, itâs one of many lovable things about him. That doesnât mean he doesnât like being able to just chill with you sometimes though. Itâs nice.
Eventually, he gets familiar enough with this that heâs willing to move you around to get more comfortable. With time, he learns exactly what ways he can move you without disturbing you. So most of the time when you fall asleep on him, you wake up in some other position. Sitting in his lap, lying down with a sleeping Mammon wrapped around you, being carried to another room, propped up against his side in your next class, being hugged like a teddy bear in his room, etc etc.
He never questions why youâre tired. He just lets you pass out on him. He wants you to be in the best possible condition, and he will happily take all the time with you he can get. He takes this to mean that you also want all the time with him that you can get, that you would rather stay with him than go to bed when youâre tired because you would rather not be separated from him. Just like how he feels about you. Why else would he be in your room as often as he is?
You trusting him enough to sleep on him all the time makes him feel like heâs being a good guardian demon, like heâs as precious to you as you are to him.
Heâs a fan of all the free cuddles he gets out of this, too.
_______
Levi:
Youâre in Leviâs room with him, set up very comfortably as youâre marathoning an anime together. Youâve been at it for hours though, youâre already a bit sleep deprived, and youâve seen this one a few times already. You canât stop yourself from nodding off. Your head drops onto his shoulder.
Levi freaks out.
âafgshrjdxsshâWH-!â He flails. You immediately snap awake again. âYouâuhh-!â He shoves you away in a panic, then immediately changes his mind, pulling you back in, then freezes for a moment before letting go of you to flap his hands frantically. âNonono stayâwait no, you donât want toâI mean, you donât have toâI mean, get oâuhh! Um! I mean! S-stay if you want, but I donât care if you donât want toâ!â
You blink slowly at him a couple times. Trying to parse his contradictory sputtering. Youâre tired, youâre not working at full brain power. You figure he means something along the lines of: âooo Iâm Levi, I have bad self esteem and I canât believe you want to touch me, but I want you to, but I canât say that because I cope with feeling unlovable by acting all tsundere because that way I feel less pathetic, love you though!â
You know. Standard Levi stuff. You love him so muchâand youâd be very happy if he started therapy.
For now though, you just grab his arm and pull him closer to you again. You bury your face in his shoulder. This time, itâs unmistakably a deliberate move. Wordlessly telling him that you do in fact love him enough to want to touch him.
Itâs like his body just took a screenshot! He keysmashes out loud.
Slowly, he calms down. He puts one hesitant arm around you. You donât move. He canât tell if youâre already asleep again or just pretending to be, but either way you seem to be comfortable.
Soon enough, he finds himself smiling like an absolute dork. This⌠is actually very effective reassurance. He feels all warm and fuzzy and loved. He likes holding you.
Itâs reminding him of TSL fluff fics heâs read where absolutely nothing happens except Henry and the Lord of Shadows cuddle. A way for him to experience affection vicariously through a character he relates to and a character he loves, when he really wants hugs himself but canât have any.
He squeezes you softly as his heart warms. He squishes his cheek against the side of your head.
âI love my Henry..!â Levi mumbles to himself, under his breath. He has no way of knowing if you heard that, which is why he said it out loud. Itâll be a while until he gets the nerve to say it when he knows you can hear.
_______
Satan:
He is HONOURED, he is OVERJOYED, he is MELTING, he is⌠very carefully remaining perfectly chill.
Itâs the same type of happiness as when a cat decides to sit on you out of nowhere. Heâs been chosen!
He is SO happy you trust him so much!
He had been reading, as usual. You had been sitting next to him, as usual. You had gotten tired, and without a moment of hesitation you had buried your face in his shoulder and fallen asleep.
He carefully contains all the joy this gives him, so he doesnât disturb you. He wraps an arm around you, plants a soft kiss on your head, and goes right back to reading.
If you sleep fitfully, heâll stroke your hair to soothe you.
When you wake up, heâll ask if you had a nice nap. He wonât make any moves to make you get off him. If you choose to anyway, he wonât react outwardly, because he doesnât want to discourage you falling asleep on him again. He wants this to happen lots more! So heâll just smile at you and go back to his book.
But if you donât choose to leave, heâll shift you entirely into his lap to make you both more comfortable. He can hug you properly like this. If heâs sure youâll be comfortable with it, heâll kiss your forehead before going back to his book. Heâs very happy to keep you there.
_______
Asmo:
Predictably, Asmoâs gonna take ALL the pictures of this!
A few in which he doesnât look at the camera, as if they were candid shots. Some where heâs posing cutely, a couple where heâs kissing your head, a bunch of various angles of your sleeping face. What can he say, he thinks the way your cheek squishes against his collarbone is just precious.
A bit less predictably, he posts none on devilgram. No, these are just for him.
âŚmaybe the best ones are for the group chat. Heâs gotta show off his cute human to someone, it may as well be to his brothers. Theyâll appreciate you properly. Heâll share after youâve woken up, though. He doesnât want anyone barging in to disturb you.
Heâll share the pictures with you as well if you ask, of course! What he will NOT do, however, is risk you deleting them! Heâll back them up first. Heâll store them in a hidden album if youâre shy about them, but heâs not deleting them!
Well, unless youâre genuinely uncomfortable. Then, okay fine. But please let him keep at least one? Youâre so cute!
Heâll be more affectionate over the following days. Trying to be next to you all the time, inviting you to his room at every opportunity, pulling you to sit next to him. All because he hopes youâll fall asleep on him again. Or just lean on him like that, and let him cuddle you. Please, heâd be SO happy!
_______
Beel:
Beel is so used to this behaviour. Belphie falls asleep on him all the time. Heâd be the most chill about it.
As if itâs routine, heâll secure you in your position with his arm, so you canât fall and get hurt. Heâll rub your back and hum softly to you to help you relax if you donât seem to be sleeping well. Beel is warm and soft and big and comfy, like the giant teddy bear he is at heart. Heâs considerate and gentle. Heâs always really sweet to you, and that doesnât change one bit even when youâre unconscious.
When he inevitably gets too hungry to stay where he is, heâll just take you to the kitchen with him. Itâs no problem, he does this with Belphie all the time. It doesnât matter how much you weigh, Beel can carry you easily. He thinks nothing of it.
He can cook one handed too if he needs to. Heâs got practiceâalso because of Belphie. Heâs chilling, heâs comfortable, thereâs nothing unusual about this at all to him.
If the kitchen noises wake you up, heâll apologize and share his food with you. Heâll tell you outright that heâs happy to let you use him as a pillow whenever you want.
(Also, he makes a mental note to drop you off with Belphie instead of bringing you along to the kitchen and risking waking you up again next time)
If it doesnât wake you up, no problem! Thatâs what he expected. He just carries you around as he does what he needs to do around the house. Heâll put you to bed properly if he needs to go outside of course, but otherwise heâs bringing you with him.
When you wake up, heâll put you down if you somehow indicate thatâs what you want. If you donât though, he just⌠wonât. He likes holding you. Heâd do it so often if he thought youâd like him to.
_______
Belphie:
âŚWelp. The table has turned, hasnât it.
People donât fall asleep on Belphie while heâs awake too often! Heâs not usually conscious to experience this! He likes it though. He thinks youâre being so cute.
9 times out of 10, Belphie will take this as his cue to cuddle up to you and join you in sleep. He can always be tempted into a nap. Heâd make sure this the comfiest, nicest, most restful nap youâve ever taken. Heâd make sure you feel so safe and loved. You will NOT be disturbed on his watch.
On the rare tenth time, when Belphie isnât tired, he might whine about being trapped. When one of his brothers points out that he can move you very easily, he glares at them. He maintains that itâs illegal to move when youâve been chosen as someoneâs pillow. When itâs pointed out that heâs perfectly capable of waking you if he really wants to get up, he looks affronted. He would NOT do that, he says. Do they think heâs completely heartless, he asks.
Well. He wouldnât do that unless heâs feeling particularly bratty. Heâd totally do it to any of his brothers⌠but heâs soft with you. He loves you. Be so for real, do you think heâd really ever pass up an opportunity to cuddle you? No way. He can go shopping later.
He wonât tell you that though. Heâll bitch about it to your face, complaining until you agree to go shopping with him next time, all the while refusing to let go of you.
He already was not hesitating to fall asleep on you, but he somehow gets more shameless and constant about it. Since youâre doing it too, itâs your thing now. Youâd be a hypocrite to complain now.
Yeah, he couldnât be happier about this. Please sleep on him all the time. Enable him even more! Heâll make sure you wonât regret it.
#obey me#obey me! shall we date?#obey me fic#obey me fluff#obey me x reader#obey me imagines#obey me headcanons#my writing#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me asmo#obey me beelzebub#obey me beel#obey me belphegor#obey me belphie#obey me requests#kind of#gn reader#gender neutral mc
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caretaker | s.r.
in which you take care of your fiercely independent boyfriend after he gets shot in the knee
margotober
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: canon compliant injury, gun violence, alludes to spencer's past addiction, alternative pain relief, spencer's anthrax poisoning word count: 1.03k a/n: oh spencer reid who at certain points had to raise himself and never learned to let himself be cared for. i love you. this was a request <3. i hope you enjoy
A crash very rudely wakes you up, sharing the same level of poise as a cartoon cat while your heart very nearly bursts out of your chest, you jolt up from the cushions. Trying to catch your breath, you scramble on the couch and peer over the back of it, looking to the ground to find your boyfriend with a desolate look on his face, âWhat are you doing?â
Your eyes wander to his knee, secured with a complicated black brace, which he was supposed to be staying off of for the next week so that it could properly heal. âLying on the floor,â he answers, staring blankly at the ceiling as he does.
Raising your eyebrows, you start to untangle yourself from the crocheted blanket you fell asleep with, âWhy?â
Spencer sighs from his spot on the floor, âFelt like it,â he mumbles, bringing his arms up to cover his face.
âDid you fall?â You ask, getting off of the couch and crouching down next to him, noticing the way one of his crutches was twisted in the tassels of your area rug. Quietly, you pick both of his crutches off of the floor, resting them against the arm of the couch before reaching out and gently shaking his shoulder. âDo you wanna get up?â
All you receive in response is a groan, so you sit fully on the floor, maneuvering your hand around his arms so that you can smooth his hair back. âI want to walk,â Spencer complains, putting his arms down to his sides.
You frown at him, your ministrations on his head faltering, âWell, I can help you walk back to bed.â He insisted he was fine when you left him to go lay down on the couch, but obviously he had decided he needed something else.
âI want to walk alone,â he corrects himself, finally glancing over at you.
The tears in his eyes are enough to break through your cheery demeanor, âOh, Spence.â You pout at him sympathetically, reaching out your arms to help pull him to a sitting position. âIâm sorry, baby,â you whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand.
He simply held no familiarity with being taken care of. Spencer was an independent being first. Once a caretaker, always a caretaker, but now, the roles were reversed, he simply couldnât get around without your help. âI just wanted to do something on my own,â he admits mournfully, âI canât even get a book withoutâŚâ his voice trails off, âDid I wake you up?â
You shake your head quickly, âNo.â The lie easily slides off of your tongue, saving him from the guilt of waking you up. Honestly, it was time for you to make your way to bed anyway. âReady?â You ask him, eyeing him cautiously as he leans to the side in order to put all of his weight on his good leg.
Taking both of his hands in yours, you pull him gently to a standing position, helping him hobble over to the couch so he can lean on the back of it for support. âThank you,â he mumbles bashfully, ducking his head so that his hair covers his face.
âDo you want some tea before bed?â You ask, skimming your palm up and down his upper arm. You had scoped out a tea that was used in herbal medicine, ordering a bunch of it off of a sketchy website to help Spencer try and manage his pain.
He foregoes a response, shaking his head, âI can make it.â
You smile softly at him, âIâll make it, Spence. I know you donât like it, but I really need you to rest.â You squeeze his upper arm comfortingly, âYou got shot a week ago, please let me take care of you.â
He looks up at you, âI donât want you to have to take care of me.â
âFine,â you acquiesce, âbut you owe me.â
Spencer raises his eyebrows in confusion, âI owe you? What do I owe you for?â
Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you tilt your head back slightly, âLetting me take care of you is the âMy co-worker had to call my girlfriend on a seemingly random Tuesday afternoon to tell me I had been shot in the line of dutyâ tax,â you inform him dutifully.
âOkay, yes, Garcia could have worded that phone call better,â he cedes, flicking some of his hair over his shoulder.
Looking at him in disbelief, you cock an eyebrow at him, âYeah, itâs right on up there with the anthrax poisoning phone call. Youâre already on thin ice with me,â you warn him, mostly meaning it in jest.
Each of these phone calls had sent you into such a tailspin that the BAU had to send someone to get you, and they werenât experiences you were likely to forget. âIâm sorry,â he whispers, studying your expression with sad brown eyes.
âDonât be sorry,â you instruct him, âJust let me take care of you! You take care of me all the timeâitâs only fair.â
He chuckles lightly at your comment on fairness, the sound enough to make the butterflies in your stomach flutter, âOkay,â he says, âOkay.â
Ducking your head and having him loop his arm around your neck, you beam up at him, âSee how much easier things are when you agree with me?â
He lets out a breathy laugh, using you and the wall as support as the two of you make your way back to the bedroom, getting him down on the mattress with practiced dexterity. âIâm certainly seeing the benefits,â he says, smiling up at you as you sweep his hair behind his ears.
Leaning down, you press a tender kiss on his forehead before stepping away, âIâll go turn on the kettle. What book were you trying to get? I can grab it and maybe you can read me to sleep tonight.â
âYou want me to read you to sleep in Russian?â He asks after rattling off the title to you, a smile on his face even though you canât see it.
You laugh from your spot in the kitchen, âGod, yes. I canât think of anything better.â
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid x fem!reader#written by margot#margotober#flufftober
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home invasion
neighbor!simon, gender-neutral reader, fluff, implied violence
--
there was someone in your room.
you had fallen asleep on your living room couch, soothed by the sounds of trashy reality tv show. however, some creeping sensation overcame you, cold hands tickling your spine, waking you up with a bucket of ice water. you lay absolutely still as you heard sounds of someone rummaging through your things. thankfully your apartment walls were thin, so you heard them closing drawers loudly, as if they didn't think you were home. you started running situations through your head, ones where you called the police and they came too late, your trespasser having heard the phone call. there was only one decision to make.
silently, like you were five again and playing hide and seek, you moved towards your door. thankfully your door didn't squeak as blood rushing was the only sound running through your head. you left the door slightly ajar as you sprinted down the hall to his door.
"simon!" you whisper yelled, knocking furiously but trying not to alert the intruder at the same time. tears were gathering in your eyes, ones of frustration of having your safe space broken into. finally, after what felt like an hour, the lock clicked and he opened the door.
simon was grumpy. he had just started to fall asleep, that elusive feeling he was always chasing these days, never quite catching it. he was about to tell you such until he saw your eyes glistening, hands gripping your blanket fiercely. "theresanintruderinmyroomhesinmy" you sputtered, absolutely distraught.
"slow down, lovie. wha' happened?" fuck, he wasn't supposed to call you that. he was supposed to keep his distance and not be one of those creeps you complained about. and now he had fucked it up and- "there's someone in my apartment. in my bedroom. going through my things. i knew the cops wouldn't come fast enough so i just thought-" he interrupted you, opening his door just wide enough to shove you through it. fast as a whip, he turned around, kissing your forehead through his mask and murmuring "lock it behind me." then he was gone, your vengeful grim reaper stalking down the hall to his next victim.
ten minutes later, the clock in the kitchen ticking slower than humanly possible, you spotted him closing the door of your apartment, shoulders bunched around his ears. you were pressed against the peephole and opened the door for him as he neared. "simon? what happened?" his eyes were black pits in his head, pupils blown wide by some intangible force. bloodlust. he reached behind you, triple checking the lock, before turning on the light. you gasped.
his knuckles were bloody, gray shirt disheveled, like someone tried to claw it. his mask was askew, shoved up as if someone tried to pull it off but was stopped before they got the chance. he pulled your forehead to his, souls touching in some intimate embrace. this was your neighbor, the one who always held the door for you and accepted your extra baked goods with quiet disagreement. the one who covered sharp edges of corners before you bumped into them, watched your door to make sure you got in okay after late nights out with friends. he breathed in your scent quietly, telling himself this was not a mission, this was you. he ran his thumbs under your jawline and down your neck, feeling your pulse to remind him you were alive. you, this bundle of life he came back to, week after week, deployment after deployment, the one reason he stayed in this shitty building when he could easily afford something better. "yer stayin' with me tonight." you nodded easily, soft as butter in his arms.
you blinked and you were in his bed, strong arms wrapped around you. he gripped you hard, like he thought the intruder might try to steal you straight out of his arms. in the darkness of his room, you slipped off his mask, laying it on his bed table. you kissed his forehead, a mirror of the one he gave you earlier, and snuggled into the crook of his neck. "thank you." you whispered into the silence of the night. you felt him nod against you, arms constricting tighter, legs tangled in the safety of his bed.
simon didn't sleep much. too many memories, sounds of gunfire and the glint of the meat hook ever present. he was required to see a shrink on base, but even that didn't help. turns out this whole time, all he needed was you.
--
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On The Run
Pt 3
At some point, Soap and Gaz fall asleep on the couch, sprawled across one another. Ghost is laid back in one of the recliners, struggling to keep his eyes open as Priceâs voice lulls him to sleep from the kitchen.
You're not sure how long the two of you have sat here. It took Price an hour to finally open his mouth. He has hardly met your eye since heâs started talking, hands clasped together on top of the table.
The ache you felt in your chest for these men worsened the longer Price spoke. Proud military men, tired of seeing the monsters they hunted get slaps on the wrist for atrocious crimes. Making plea deals with lawyers, getting one way tickets into luxury cells when they should be six feet underground.
You donât realise Price has stopped talking till Soap snores, causing Dixon to shuffle at your feet, all four dogs scattered around the kitchen floor. You look him over, taking in the man now that all his bravado has been drained, leaving only the raw human underneath. Blue eyes darkened by years on the force and then years behind bars, forced into proximity with the very animals he and his team longed to put down. Youâre looking at a man who fought for what was right and when justice wasnât served in a way he deemed fit, he settled it.
Price is staring down at his hands, and youâre worried heâs going to hurt himself with how vigorously he rubs his hands together. You donât think, reaching across the table and grasping one of his hands in yours, running your thumb across scarred knuckles. âDonât do that.â You scold, and his head whips up to stare at you, eyes wide, hopeful but hesitant.
He looks down at your hand holding his, then back at you. âYouâre notâŚ?â He trails off, clearing his throat as he sits up straighter, letting your palm slip into his. Youâre not sure what word he was going to use, but you shake your head.
âIâm⌠Iâm sorry you all had toâŚâ You donât finish your sentence, letting it hang in the air between you. Youâre shocked to see tears pool at the corner of his eyes but heâs quick to blink them away.
âYouâre not horrified by us?â He asks, and you can tell heâs trying to fight his voice from shaking. You clear your throat, but gently squeeze his hand when his grip loosens.
âYou have done⌠horrible things. Inhumane things.â You start, trying to pick your words carefully as you scoot your chair closer to his. He watches you warily, but there is no denying the growing hope in those eyes. âBut I couldnât imagine seeing what you saw everyday. Hearing the things youâve heard, having to keep that all to yourself. Seeing⌠monsters youâve spent years tracking get served the minimum sentence with a cozy cell waiting for them.â His hand starts to shake, and your heart breaks seeing how hard heâs fighting back the tears pooling in his eyes. âWe never would have actually hurt you, I swear on my life. We just⌠Fuck we had been running for fucking hours through those god damn trees and-â His voice cracks, and you gently run your thumb over the back of his hand. âWhy are you being so nice?â He almost spits the word, but his grip on your hand tightens.
Grounding.
âYou did as I asked. You told me the truth.â You mirror his words from the barn, and he barks out a wet sounding laugh before covering his face with his free hand. âAnd youâre happy with that truth?â
âIâm happy you decided you could trust me enough with it.â You admit softly, and he stares into your eyes, and you donât feel the need to look away this time. âAnyone else would have gone running for the hills.â He whispers, and you canât help but smile.
âNot many places to run to, and if Iâm telling the honest truth, there are worse things than killing human filth.â You shrug, and he lets out a bewildered laugh. âYou canât mean-â
âI do though. There are people in this world that donât deserve the freedom they have, that have ripped apart the lives of others and continue living like they didnât single-handedly ruin someoneâs entire foundation.â Your words are a little more forceful than you intended, raw. And Price catches it, sitting up a little straighter, tugging your hand closer.
âYou have your own monster, donât you pretty?â He asks seriously, and you swallow, lowering your gaze to your clasped hands.
âI think thatâs a story for another night.â You whisper, and you see him nod, before realization hits, and his eyes widen.
âYouâre going to let us-â
âYou are going to have to show me that I am not making a mistake by letting four wanted men stay in my house.â You interrupt him, but thereâs a smile on your face. The next seconds are a blur and you suddenly find this giant of a man at your feet, kneeling in front of you and holding both your hands in his. His shoulders are shaking, head bent but you hear the hitch in his breath.
âPrice..â You murmur, a little nervous but you slip your hands free, slowly running your fingers through his hair, and you hear the sob that leaves him. He bunches up the loose fabric of your sweats in his fist, and you can feel his tears starting to soak through.
âYou are a good person.â He chokes out, looking up at you and the look on his face has tears of your own threatening to spill. He looks exhausted, like every ounce of his energy has finally been drained, years of enduring visceral human indecency ingrained into every part of his being. And yet he is gazing at you like you are the first glimpse of the sun after week long rainstorms, constant flooding and devastation, the light breaking through the clouds to spread warmth on a new day.
âYouâre still a good person too.â
Those words linger in the air.
You lose track of time as you sit there, running your fingers through his hair, this man who youâve never met, who invited himself into your home, but has bared the darkest corners of his soul to you all in one night. Grimes had made his way over at some point, staring at Price with a concerned tilt of his head. He never did like when you cried, and you can tell heâs desperate to try and comfort this strange man in his home. He lays besides him, paws outstretched, inching forward ever so slowly.
âHe doesnât like that youâre upset.â You mumble, watching the way his eyes snap over to Grimes. âEven though I terribly upset his mama earlier?â He mutters, he and Grimes staring at one another.
âGrimes has always been a big softy. Dixon is the one whoâs gonna hold a grudge.â An answering âboofâ comes from beside you, Dixon plopping his head back on his paws after making his stance known.
Grimes scoots forward until he can rest his big head on Priceâs lap, nuzzling down and looking up at him expectantly, and Price gives you a hesitant look. You just nod, smiling gently. âYouâre gonna be staying with four of them, better get yourselves acquainted.â
âWhat in the bloody fuck did I miss?â A drowsy voice mutters from the doorway, and Ghost stands there, taking in the sight of Price kneeling before you, still clutching your sweatpants, and you can see the downturn of his lips through his mask when he notices the dried tears on Priceâs cheek.
You gently pull Priceâs hands off your sweats, and he looks as though you just took away his favorite treat. âIâll go grab some fresh blankets.â You hum, face warming when you can feel both of their gazes on your back as you walk up the stairs.
âWait, does that mean-â You hear Ghost start, and youâre shocked to hear it so soft, but their words are lost as you turn down the hallway. You slip into the bedroom at the end of the hall, making quick work of dusting off the dresser and small TV, gently stacking a pile of clean sheets and towels. This room already had two beds, you just hoped they were big enough for these giant oafs.
You just about scream when a pair of hands grip your waist, and you whirl around. âPrice you have got to stop grabbing me now- Oh.â
It was Ghost, eyes unreadable as he stares you down, and you clear your throat, loosening your grasp just a bit but still attempting to push him off.
âYou scared me, you need to stop-â
âThank you.â He interrupts, and your eyes widen as he pulls you closer.
âI- Well youâre welcome, I couldnât just-â
âYes you could. You could send out right back outside, hell you could get a goddamn brigade of officers here and you would be justified for it.â He shrugs, but you frown, shaking your head.
âNo. From⌠from what Price told me, you all made your own choices to help those the governments deem lesser than them. You helped people who have watched law officials let them down again and again.â You state firmly, wincing slightly as you feel Ghost dig his fingers into your hips. âEasy.â You scold, and he immediately eases up, but doesnât let go of you, keeping you pressed to him and your heart skips.
âIâll just finish-â
âWhoever divorces such a sweet little bird must have absolute shit for brains.â Ghost states, quite confidently, and you canât stop the shocked giggle that slips past. âAbsolute fuckin idiot.â
âYou canât win me over with flattery you know.â You huff, but he sees right through you, dark eyes taking in your flustered expression, and you feel heat burn your cheeks as you avoid meeting his eye.
âMmm, weâll see about that. Think itâll get me pretty damn far.â He grins, and you smack his hands before pausing.
âWait.â You mutter, prying his right hand off of you and lifting it up, inspecting.
Your teeth made a pretty gnarly imprint, already scabbing. âAh donât worry about that. I deserved it.â
âCâmon you big idiot, before you let that thing get infected.â You order, pushing him towards the bathroom and he lets out a loud laugh, the sound causing butterflies to seize your stomach.
âYes maâam.â
#cod#call of duty#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#simon riley x reader#john price x reader#kyle gaz x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#tf 141 x reader#cod john price#cod gaz#cod ghost#cod soap
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