#he deserves a warm blanket and a break

[black-occamy]

I saw him dozing off mid-conversation and immediately felt the need to bring him hot cocoa and a blanket 🥺 thank the gods Persephone was there.

[writingastory]

Headcanons: The Morning After

Prompt: "It’s the first time they’ve woken up together in the same bed, and one partner is mesmerized by the other’s sleeping face—softly watching them wake up, still sleepy and a little disoriented."

Pairings: Xavier x fem!reader; Zayne x fem!reader; Rafayel x fem!reader; Sylus x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, suggestive thingies

Genre: "Normal" AU (no Evol, no Wanderers - just normal life)

A/N: I originally wanted to write some angsty, but couldn't bring myself to it. Life's hard enough, let's enjoy some fluff. Hope you enjoy! 💕

🌟 Xavier was still fast asleep by the time you woke up. The sun was tickling your nose in a way it usually did not - and it took you a moment to realize why it felt so strange. You were not in your bed... or your room for that matter.

🌟 Looking around, you found your clothes strewn about the room - and your boyfriend in bed, right by your side, under the blankets. Naked. Just like you.

🌟 A pleasant shiver ran up your spine, images of the night before flickering through your mind. His touches, his kisses - the way you two entangled under the sheets, and became one...

🌟 You smiled and traced the light marks on your skin. Xavier stirred lightly next to you and you couldn't help snuggling into his back, leaving gentle kisses on the back of his neck. Your fingers traced his spine with a feather-light touch, before continuing to draw invisible patterns into his skin.

🌟 He stirred again and rolled onto his other side, facing you. He blinked a few times and scrunched his nose cutely as the light hit his eyes. You giggled and kissed his nose. "Good morning," you whispered, cupping his face gently. He hummed in response, a small smile forming on his lips.

🌟 Xavier was far from ready to start his day. He scooted closer to you and pushed you onto your back slowly, snuggling into your side, his face hidden in your neck as his arms engulfed you carefully - as if you were a precious treasure that would break if he used too much force. His lips found your collarbone, planting soft kisses on the warm skin there.

🌟 "Good morning, indeed..." he mumbled between kisses, his hand finding your thigh, pulling it over his hips to lock you together once more. His one hand gripped your knee to hold your leg in place as his other snaked around the back of your neck to keep you close to him, stealing kiss after kiss from you, each one deeper and more intimate than the one before - and you suddenly had the feeling that you would not leave that bed for a couple more hours...

❄️ Zayne woke up before sunrise - 5 AM sharp, as he did every single day. His internal clock was as precise as a Swiss watch. He jolted slightly as he felt movements next to him; it was a strange feeling to share the bed. The smallest of smiles graced his lips as his eyes fell onto your form in the dim light of your shared bedroom, buried underneath the many blankets.

❄️ He rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, his head resting on his hand comfortably. Zayne watched you in silence, enjoying the serenity of the moment. He was in no hurry. You two had been dating for months and decided to go on a last-minute vacation in Snowcrest. Away from friends, family - and work. A well deserved break from life that had gotten just a tad too hectic lately.

❄️ Zayne just loved spending time with you. He had invited you on this vacation for this very reason. You two becoming intimate was not planned - but not unwelcome either. It was simply the perfect addition to a perfect day.

❄️ He scooted closer carefully, trying not to wake you up. He just needed to be closer to you now, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips once again...

❄️ You stirred a bit as his fingers trailed over your exposed neck and shoulders, reaching the edge of the blanket. Slowly, he pushed them off your form, small goosebumps appearing on your warm skin. Maybe it was selfish - he should let you rest for however long you needed to - but...

❄️ His lips followed the path his fingers forged a few moments earlier, leaving tender, loving kisses. He felt your stir once more before your opened your eyes, smiling fondly. "Hey..." your voice was hoarse, still thick from sleep. "Hey," he answered quietly, the tiniest smirk forming on his lips. "What time is it?"

❄️ "Probably around 5 AM," Zayne answered, his lips reaching the small dip between your collarbones. You hummed, your eyes falling shut again. "Why are you awake already? I thought we're on vacation?" A chuckle left your lips, and Zayne continued planting kisses on your soft skin. "We are," he answered, slowly rolling on top of you again. "I just... need another taste."

🎨 The air flowing into the room was fresh and cool, carrying a salty taste from the sea. The long white curtains danced in the light wind, the sunlight streaming through the opened windows. You groaned a bit at the sudden coolness, only then feeling the weight on your back. Rafayel clung to you, snoozing happily, his head resting between your shoulders, his arms tightly wrapped around you.

🎨 He mumbled something incomprehensible and nuzzled your skin gently, littering sleepy kisses over your back. His hands shamelessly started wandering along your body, quickly finding and settling on your breasts, squeezing them gently.

🎨 "Good morning?" you chuckled lightly, not minding the needy fondling. "It is a good morning," he answered, his grin audible in his words, his hands squeezing your mounts again as if agreeing to his statement.

🎨 "Stop that," you giggled, trying to wiggle away from him - unsuccessfully. He deliberately pinned you down with a chuckle, his lips attacking your shoulder and neck. "Why would I? The noises you make are just so cute~"

🎨 He was relentless in his attacks, his kisses turning sultrier and sloppier with every passing minute. "Say," he groaned, pressing his hips against your behind lustfully, "this is not just a vivid dream, is it? And last night..."

🎨 You hummed in pleasure, thinking about the passionate moments you two had shared. "I don't think so," you answered with a light smirk, finally able to roll onto your back. He was above you immediately, his eyes filled with need and longing, as if he was still not sure if you were really there or just a cruel trick his mind was playing on him.

🎨 His lips found yours in a sweet kiss, filled with adoration and gentleness. He looked down at you again before stealing another kiss - the second of many many more that day.

🐦‍⬛ Usually, Sylus was a night-owl, and sleeping during the day. However, after your first time making love... he couldn't bring himself to leave the bed, and so he found himself between the sheets, with you in his arms. His fingers drew lazy patterns into your skin absentmindedly.

🐦‍⬛ Your head rested on his chest as you snoozed peacefully, fully content and safe in his strong and warm embrace. He was so sweet. So gentle. So loving. And now, with the way he held you, sleep had a tight grip on you. You refused to wake up and leave your cocoon of warmth and comfort.

🐦‍⬛ Eventually though, your mind was slowly pulled back to reality, your lids fluttering a few times as you woke up. "Good morning, kitten," he whispered, his deep voice filling the silence in the best way possible. You looked up at him slowly, only then realizing that he was, in fact, still there with you.

🐦‍⬛ "Morning..." you mumbled, rubbing your eyes gently. "Don't you have work...?" You yawned, propping yourself up slowly to look down at him. Sylus shrugged in response, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I can leave, if you want."

🐦‍⬛ You frowned and snuggled back into his side. "No," you said firmly, wrapping yourself around him slowly. "I was just confused for a second."

🐦‍⬛ He chuckled a bit, wrapping his arms around your form again. "That's what I thought," he smiled, kissing your forehead gently. "Luke and Kieran can deal with whatever's going on today. I'm not leaving this bed until you kick me out."

🐦‍⬛ You quirked a brow, grinning slightly. "Is that a promise?" you asked, nuzzling his neck gently before placing a kiss on his skin, right where his pulse was thrumming. Sylus hummed deeply and closed his eyes, pushing his head back and exposing his neck to you and your advances. You grinned and nibbled his skin, carefully at first... but it didn't take long for you to full-on attack his neck with kisses and love-bites. "Kitten," he droned, rolling onto his back with you on top of him, "I hope you intend to finish what you started."

[dollyichi]

BETTER THAN A BLANKET!

katsuki bakugou x f ! reader ᯓ★ 1.04k words. fluff / established relationship / not proofread / maybe ooc but you know… it’s a sleepy bakugou

katsuki has this habit of moving you on top of him. it’s a very pure, almost natural, but mindless action that just happens when you’re together.

it happens more frequently on a lazy, late afternoon during his off days. when the sun’s about to set and the both of you are enjoying each other’s company. laying down side by side, comfortable in each other’s silence.

the errands for the day were done and instead of going on a date outside, you opted to just get back home quickly—he definitely had no complaints at all, in fact, he was happy to stay at home with you, especially since he was barely even at home because of the several missions and emergencies he was dispatched to. to him, a big flaw of being a hero is being away from their lover for long periods of time—but it’s always more important that the world you helped widen for him is safer for you.

when you got home, you watched a few movies with him. laughing about the cheesy romcoms that’s number one on the streaming site. throwing popcorn when he mocks a cringy line. “well shit, he was really fucking stupid for that. can’t be me.” was your favorite comment from him, making a mental note in your head that he really hates slow-burn romance. definitely hates cheating routes too, thinking the whole film is a waste of time.

sooner or later, the two of you end up getting a little drowsy, wanting to take that power nap that the two of you deserved after the hell you guys went through this week. both of you are just waiting for sleep to hit and drift off in each other’s arms.

this moment you have with him is always special, never failing to tug on your heartstrings, especially since the golden shine of the sun passes through the thin curtains of your lovely home, landing perfectly on his pretty face that’s trying to blink and stay awake all because he always preferred you falling asleep first. half lidded eyes that still shined prettily accompanied by the warm rays.

when katsuki gets extra groggy and sluggish, he pulls you over on top him all too suddenly. tugging at your arm, looking at you like a puppy wanting treats. his mouth’s in a straight line yet his eyes already is saying a lot, it is one of the most expressive parts of him if he chooses not to speak.

and you let him, moving on top of him while he maneuvered you to however he liked, landing on him with a soft thud. you scoot a little bit to be more comfortable. nuzzling your face against his neck when you’re already put in place, “he smells so nice,” you think. he wraps his arms around you in such a tender embrace—you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. also spreading his legs apart so yours could stay on the mattress in case your legs get numb later on, he’s so considerate.

your arms under his while you softly cling to the sleeves of his shirt. you’re both chest to chest, almost feeling each other’s heartbeats. he loved doing this so much because you being his very own personal blanket would always bring him comfort. you’re always just so full of warmth and he always wants to feel it from head to toe—this is just the best position to have it possible.

you’ll talk for a bit, saying how you missed him all week and he grins at you. “yeah? your boyfriend left you all alone huh? what a dumbass.” and then you’ll tell him some stories about what you did at work, chatting about how the coffee machine keeps breaking cause an intern hasn’t learned to use it properly. he’d give you replies in small phrases, happily listening to your voice while fighting the drowsiness that’s kicking in. chuckles whenever your pitch gets higher from your rants. then you’d go back to telling him how you saw him at the news the other day, how you always worried a lot, which always made him a little sad but it couldn’t be helped.

but you’re pouting at him so cutely he ends up smiling. “i’m here now aren’t i?” he asks in a way that reassures you. “mhm, safe and sound.” you say, nudging your cheek against his.

you really wished time could slow down, even for just a bit, just to have katsuki all to yourself for a little while longer.

eventually your chat with him turns to a slower pace, your voice gradually getting softer and softer, and words more disconnected as your mind gets hazy with sleep.

he mumbles a small, “sleepy?” and you snuggle deeper onto him, which immediately translates to his head as a ‘yes.’ he doesn’t ‘bother’ you anymore with any other words or further conversation. instead, he kisses the top of your head while he waits for you to drift off before him. and he repeatedly tells you how much he loved you, at least in his head he did.

you’re closing your eyes while he rubs your back, soothing you into that dreamscape while you hope to see him right there next to you just like you are now.

when you wake up you’re in the same place you were in, except the extra warmth on your back with your puffy comforter that katsuki somehow placed on without waking you.

you figured it’s time to start preparing dinner from how dark the room is. yet, with the way he looked so cute sleeping so soundly under the cool hue of the moonlight you think it’s probably fine to sleep for a few more minutes.

and you kiss him just for a little while before you lay back down. not knowing he was awake a few minutes after you did and hoped you wouldn’t notice the blush that’s creeping up his cheeks. “that was dangerous,” he thought to himself. maybe it was cause he was still high off from his dream but whenever you make his heart skip a beat this much it makes him want to ask you to be his girlfriend again (i think this definitely calls for a ring katsuki!)

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

[joemama-2]

it’s late at night. he’s already situated on the bed, seeing you come into the room with unkempt hair, you shirt has splotches of dried milk and your movements are slow. tired.

why wouldn’t you be?

an energetic three year old who’s just like his father is hard to maintain. though you wouldn’t trade it for the world. “come here, baby.” he pats his lap, grinning softly.

you look over from where you’re taking off your jewelry for the day, in attempt to get ready for your nightly shower. “hm? for what?”

his eyes follow your every movement, patting his lap once more. “you know exactly why. cmon, daddy needs some stress relief.”

the laugh you let out causes his face to soften, admiring you in a way that’s reserved solely for his wife, for the mother of his son. “i thought we agreed you couldn’t call yourself that anymore.”

he adjusts himself when he sees you come over, crawling on the bed to situate yourself in a straddling position over his hips. his hands fall into place on the curve of your waist, thumbs rubbing small circles on the small patch of skin that shows when your shirt lifts up. “you did. i didn’t.”

“it’s cringey.”

“so?”

you huff, eyes rolling. he dips his head forward into the crook of your neck, planting a trail of warm kisses. “satoru, are you sure?”

“are you sure?” he asks, voice muffled by your skin. “i just want to pamper my wife after a long day, can’t i do that?”

“i feel hideous right now.”

he tips his head back, bright eyes staring back at you with an intensity you’ve come to associate with. the kind of intensity that lets you know whatever he says—he means it. “hideous? what did i say before, huh? i said don’t even think about saying stupid stuff like that again. and look at you now.”

your lips downturn. “don’t say that just to make me feel better.”

“i’m not,” he places a firm kiss to your lips. “you look beautiful every day, every second of the day. but you look especially gorgeous right now.”

you narrow your eyes at him, skeptical. “why right now?”

satoru’s lips quirk into a sly grin, his thumbs still tracing those comforting circles on your waist. "because right now, I see my whole world in front of me. the woman who gave me everything I could ever want—a family, a home, a reason to come back every single day.”

the weight of his words presses against the exhaustion hanging over you. it’s not just flattery. it’s raw and genuine, just like him, and it makes your chest ache in the best way. “you’re so cheesy, you know that?”

“and you’re so heavenly,” his grin widens, leaning in closer until your noses almost touch. “but you love my cheesiness, don’t you? admit it.”

your lips twitch, a small smile breaking through despite your best efforts to keep a straight face. “maybe I do.”

“there it is,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your lips, softer this time, as if he’s handling something fragile. “that smile’s all I need to get through anything.”

the words wrap around your tired soul like a warm blanket. and for a moment, the weight of the day fades, replaced by the solid, steady presence of him—your husband, your partner, the man who never fails to make you feel like the most important person in the world.

you sigh, resting your forehead against his. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Wrong.” his voice is firm, his hands steady as they pull you just a little closer, subtly rubbing you against his clothed cock. “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”

and in that quiet, intimate moment, with the world outside fading into irrelevance, you believe him.

"now let me pamper you like I promised." he switches positions, hovering above you as you lay on your back. leaning down to raise the hem of your shirt, trailing sweet kisses and licks against your stomach—heading further south. your hips raise slightly as he discards your lounge pants, breath hitching in anticipation. hand running down through the streaks of his white hair, he smiles at the sight of your pussy hidden behind the grandma underwear you adorn.

hot breath tickling your core that leaves you almost jerking upwards for more. he kisses your clit through the loose fabric. “besides, mommy needs her fix too, doesn’t she?”

[kenwio]

Joker's kid! reader x batfamily

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Author's note: I've been reading a lot of batfam x reader, and today I got this idea in my mind. I don't know if someone wrote something similar, and I apologize if so.

Warnings: English is not my first language, and it may contain grammar mistakes.

All in all, it's just a quick sketch I wanted to share with the world. I hope you will enjoy reading it. And I may write something more on this.

• -------------------- ♤ ♡ ◇♧ --------------------•

Joker's kid! reader, who hates his father, because he never cared, he sees you as his pawn, way to lure Batman in

Joker's kid! reader, who, without any connection to the real world, understands, that the way Jokers acts is just not right

Joker's kid! reader, who barely has any sanity and has so many mental issues, that they don't even know how to untangle their emotions or what they feel

Joker's kid! reader, who hopes that one day, Batman would put their dad into the prison for good. But this hope is crushed every time more with every Joker's escape from prison

Joker's kid! reader, who hoped that his mother would take them with her, but when she never did, was too busy with building her new life. After that, they started to think that they were too much of the burden

Joker's kid! reader, who has to hide in the corners of the crime alley, because they have nowhere to go until Joker breaks out and find them again. They are so scared, hungry, cold, but they know there is practically nothing they can do

Joker's kid! reader, who is afraid of Batman. They themselves saw how many times their father. Yet, they can't help but feel something light bubbling in their chest as they look at him.

Joker's kid! reader, Who is weirded out by how Robin, Red Robin, Red Hood and Nightwing act around batman, but they found themselves fascinated by it

Joker's kid! reader, who saw and decided to follow Batman out of desperation. They just wanted to this all end, and at least, Batman could do that, they saw her

Joker's kid! reader, who was scared by how long Batman was silent, how he stared at them. How he crouched down to their level. It felt like he was looking in their soul. Of course he knows who their are, he just never expected them to come to him. They may never know, but he was so relived to see that the this kid was not following their father.

Joker's kid! reader, who was shocked by how gentle Batman's voice sounded, how gently he put his hand on the shoulder, how he led them to his batmobile, how he gently buckled up their belt, how he put blanket on them (why would Batman have a spare blanket in the batmobile?).

Joker's kid! reader, who had to spend so much time in the medbay, not only because they were malnourished, but because they had so much health issues.

Joker's kid! reader, who is visited by Batman on many occasions, and were shocked by his care. Why he was so caring? Gentle? Was it a part of some elaborate scheme?

Joker's kid! reader, who had to learn identity of Batman and batfamily, because they would be moved to the manor. At one hand, it was a good change, but they were so scared.

Joker's kid! reader, who recives unpleasant glances from all the family: Dick looks at them like they are sick animal, Jason looks like their are a ticking bomb, Tim like they are remnants of his nightmares, Damian like they are disgusting criminal.

Joker's kid! reader, who think they all will hate them more because they keep breaking things (they just don't know how to use them). Alfred looks at them with such an intense gaze, that they couldn't help but shiver.

Joker's kid! reader, who looks at interactions between Bruce and wounders if this is how familiar is? Is it supposed to be warm like this? Is that care? Is that what happiness is?

Joker's kid! reader, who thinks that they are so out of place. They do not deserve this, not after what their father has done.

Joker's kid! reader, who just want to have be a part of family too

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Thank you so much for reading! Please, feel free to share your opinions. I hope you have a good day!

[kurooh]

❆ BABY, IT’S COLD OUTSIDE !

KINKMAS 2024 — holiday hatefucking + sukuna ryōmen

❆ desc. a record breaking blizzard blasts through your city, causing thousands of power outages & frozen pipes. what’re you & your sworn enemy of a roommate to do when it seems to last all night?

❆ warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, hatefucking, some degradation, pussy slaps, orgasm control, arguing, resolving misunderstandings, facesitting, one bed trope. | 6.0k words

“just like everything else, this is all your fault!”

“really, princess? last i checked, i can’t control fucking climate change.”

sukuna’s always been testing your patience, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with daily arguments and snarky comments. you let out a peeved sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation. “of course you’d refer to weather as climate change. if i were you, i’d at least mask my stupidity better.”

“tch,” he manages, wordlessly rolling his eyes as he lamely tries to think of a comeback. anger boils in his stomach and burns through his veins, hot as magma. “you’re calling me stupid when you’re the one who fell into the toilet a few days ago, at three in the morning.”

“yes, and that happened because my inconsiderate asshole of a roommate didn’t put the lid down!”

“you deserved it,” sukuna scoffs, dismissing you with a wave of his hand as he turns on his heel. “go take your toilet ass to bed. g’night.”

you’re fuming with anger, but there’s no point in saying anything now that he’s walking away with no intention to listen to you. sukuna’s footsteps disappear into the darkness of his room, and he slams the door behind him.

how insufferable.

living with sukuna ryōmen meant you could never catch a break. between his occasional apartment-trashing parties and stormy demeanor, there was zero chance to turn things around. the feuds had started not long after you first met, and surprisingly, the two of you had actually hit it off pretty well.

your first meeting took place on a street corner downtown, right in the middle of the college district. after a horrible date, you had found yourself waiting on the corner for your delayed uber when sukuna pulled up on his motorcycle, extending his hand. at the time, you didn’t question his kindness, wrapping your arms around him and talking his ear off about being a student. he dropped you off at your apartment and offered to help you sign a new lease, after you had confessed how hard it was living in a dorm with so many fees.

initially, living with sukuna went well. the sexual tension was at an all-time high, but the two of you were always too busy (or afraid?) to make a move on it, so you remained friends. it was when his friends came over for a party during an important study night for you that things changed for the worse. they had been lounging on the couch, drunk and talking way too loudly about you.

remembering the things they said about you still makes you grind your teeth as you stomp down the hallway, pausing at the darkened screen of the thermostat.

“sukuna!” you yell, reading the numbers. “the temperature’s dropping further!”

“. . it’s a power outage,” he calls back after a moment, his voice muffled by the door. “what do you expect?”

it’s pointless but it makes you feel better, so you raise your middle finger to his door before walking off to your room. your door swings open, and you slide off your slippers, preparing to get into bed and wait it out, but you’re met with the not so soft material of the bare mattress.

oh, that’s right.

not long ago, the tv had been glowing with endless reports of the incoming blizzard. it was supposed to hit the city full force in a few hours. expecting a power outage, you’d thrown all of your sheets and blankets into the wash so you’d sleep well during the night in a warm, clean bed. it was as if the blizzard had a personal score to settle—it barreled through the city and prepared to stay, leaving hundreds of people without power or functioning pipes due to the freeze.

now that your apartment has no electricity at all, your sheets and blankets are left soaking in the washing machine downstairs. instead of breaking down and screaming out of frustration, you manage to pull it together with a few deep breaths before marching over to sukuna’s room. it’s entirely sickening that you even have to ask him for something like this, but you put the thought out of your mind and raise your closed fist to the door.

sukuna’s ears twitch when he hears the thumping at his door, and he gets out of his bed to go investigate. he rubs the tiredness away from his eyes and opens the door to see you standing in front of him.

“what now? did you come to tell me it’s snowing outside?”

“no, i didn’t,” you grit out, wringing your hands together, “remember i put my all my bedding in to be washed?”

“remember when i told you not to?”

“yes, thank you!” you reply brightly, “they’re currently soaking in the washing machine and i have nowhere to sleep without getting a bad case of hypothermia.”

“hm. you could always try the couch and some paper towels from the kitchen,” he suggests dryly, pulling the door shut. stubbornly, you push your foot in the way to stop him. “woman,” he clicks his tongue disapprovingly, “if you think i won’t slam this door on your foot, you are sorely mistaken.”

it’s a risk you’ll have to take; you don’t budge an inch, looking up at him furiously. “just for tonight, i’m asking you to let me sleep in your bed.”

“i thought you hated me,” he hisses, “i could feel your little middle finger through the door.”

“i do, but if you had this problem, i’d actually help you, because i’m a good person!”

“keep telling yourself that,” sukuna rolls his eyes dramatically, letting his jaw go slack to mock your stupidity, “i would never have this kind of problem, because i’m not as dumb as you are.”

the wooden edge of the door starts to press into your slipper and a rush of panic strikes you square in the chest. your jaw tightens as hesitate, frustrated with the idea you have to convince him with. finally, your lips part, and the words tumble out sloppily, piling up into a debt you’ll be obligated to pay. “fine, fine . . . sometime i can make it up to you. i’ll even clean up the apartment after a party without any lip.”

sukuna crosses his arms, and the veins ripple beneath the skin with the movement. “oh, i hadn’t thought of that. i would love to see you clean the place without complaining as you usually do. although . . you did say anything.”

“yes, that’s right.”

where is he going with this?

his crimson eyes gleam with some kind of wolfish delight as he mulls over everything he could possibly impose on you. “perhaps i’ll save it and torment you while i think of something.”

“so, can i share the bed?” you urge, slipper tapping on the carpet impatiently.

sukuna offers a hand, and you can feel his black nails dig into your skin when you accept it. he moves out of the doorway at last, sticking out his foot and successfully making you stumble. you nearly faceplant into the carpet but manage to save yourself, biting your tongue even though all you want to do is shout at him.

sukuna simply gets into bed and tugs the blankets over his body, but he looks over at you in confusion when he notices you stacking a wall of pillows between your bodies.

“god, i am not that vile. i showered earlier and i washed my sheets yesterday,” he grouses, eyebrows pulling downwards in annoyance.

“i’m sure you did,” you assuage him dismissively, “i just wanna make sure we don’t touch once in the time that we sleep in this bed.”

sukuna fiddles with his silver lip piercings, tongue prodding into the backings impatiently while his fingers twist at the small spikes. “damn. are you done yet? goodnight.”

“goodnight.” you mutter, dropping down hard against the bed with your back facing his.

sukuna is what every daredevil wishes they could be. he is unique, with different piercings and dark, sharply lined tattoos that compliment his features naturally. all of his piercings had been acquired from bets or dares—he’d gotten his eyebrow done after his brother yuji beat him in a fight (he let him win because he wanted the piercing), his snake bites because he’d been dared (he did it himself with a hot needle and bent paperclips to keep the holes open since it was 1 am and all the jewelry stores were closed), and his ears when he won an eating contest (it was on yuji’s dime, so he got the most expensive jewelry too).

as you drift off, feeling warmer beneath all the blankets, you feel the tension leaving your body. for tonight, you’ll let go of your anger towards him and enjoy the pleasant moment and his rare generosity.

your eyes blearily open to the soft rays of morning sunlight shining through the gaps between the curtains, illuminating the dust in their thin columns over the bed. you let out a yawn, snuggling further into the soft pillows you’d set up the night before—but then your heart jumps into your throat and heat sears its away across your face when you register the warm body nestled against yours.

the position is so natural that it’s as if you slept like this for hours; it’s abhorrent, seeing sukuna sleeping like a baby, his breaths nothing more than quiet huffs into your neck. as the vestiges of sleep start to fade away, you’re all too aware of the sculpted muscle pressing firmly against your body. at some point, sukuna decided to take off his shirt, as evidenced by his bare chest against you.

outside, the sky looks to be a little cloudy, and the branches of bare trees are weighed down with layers of snow. looks like the blizzard came to a stop sometime in the middle of the night.

sukuna’s hand squeezes your side lightly, and he lets out a soft groan, tugging you closer. “ew, what the hell!?” you jerk back immediately, heart pounding wildly in your chest like a caged bird. an uncomfortable heat settles over you as the reality of the situation fully sinks in. he’s still asleep, fumbling around to grip onto you. your breath catches in your throat with each of his confused movements, and the warmth of his strong body leaves you dazed for a moment before you consider how wrong this feels. he firmly grabs ahold of your ass to pull you in, and you gasp, slapping his arm as hard as you can.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

he grunts out a curse, letting go of you and blinking awake slowly. his once relaxed face quickly shifts into one of annoyance, and he fixes you with a displeased glare.

“what’s your problem now, woman?”

“you were cuddling me, man.”

sukuna rolls his eyes so hard you wonder if they’ll ever return to their original place.

“to wake me up over something that trivial is ridiculous. it was a cold night and likely happened by accident.”

“no, sukuna!” you protest, hips swiveling as you push yourself into a sitting position. he hisses, jaw clenching firmly; the words die in your throat when you realize the problem—rather, his problem.

“wipe that fucking look off your face,” he snaps automatically. “ever heard of morning wood?”

“excuse me? you were all over—”

immediately, sukuna claps a hand over your mouth, his palm feeling hot against the lower half of your face. your words are muffled, but he knows you’re swearing and protesting at him—the way your eyebrows angrily move tells him enough.

eventually, you go still, opting to lick his skin. he recoils in disgust, wiping his sticky palm on your shirt to get it off. “you’re nasty, woman.”

“that’s not what you were thinking when you were wrapped around me like a koala five minutes ago.”

he doesn’t even know what to say. anger and something more bubbles up fast, scorching through his body before it finally exits through his mouth. “shut the fuck up. you started it last night, pulling me in and shit.”

“me?” you burst out incredulously, eyebrows furrowing as you lean forward, your stare burning holes the size of bullets into his face. “you’re the one who’s embarrassed for having enjoyed it, if your face is any indicator. you know how much i hate you, i’d never—”

you’re too close. beneath the blankets and sheets, your lower body thrashes while you speak, hips knocking into his a few times. each touch has his cock growing harder, throbbing painfully beneath his boxers and pajama pants.

“god, if you’d just stop touching me!” he barks, cheeks ultra hot now. sukuna’s lips pull into a scowl and he glares at you, annoyed with your sudden cluelessness.

“what is your problem now?!”

“it’s you,” he shouts, throwing off the blanket and startling you. “it’s always been you. since we moved in, since the blizzard, since i even agreed to sharing a bed with you! you’re always—” sukuna’s voice splinters and he swallows, pushing forward, leaving mere inches between your faces. “fuck. you’re always driving me insane.”

“back off,” you hiss, voice trembling. a crackling tension hangs in the air between you, heavy with unspoken words and growing anticipation.

“make me.”

“you’re really asking for it, aren’t you, sukuna?”

his lips curl into a wolfish smile and his eyes gleam with a similar intensity, anger blending with something more carnal. “maybe you can show me how much you love to hate me, princess.”

the demeaning nickname falls from his lips easily, as it always does, and you’re determined to make him choke on it.

“don’t you ever shut up?” your nose crinkles at the puffs of breath that brush over your lips. one of sukuna’s eyebrows quirks upward challengingly—your voice no longer has the bite it usually does.

“i only would if you let me use my mouth another way.”

your heart hammers in your chest, and anger still rushes through every inch of your body, but it’s much hotter now, leaving your skin sweltering beneath your clothes. giving in to sukuna ryōmen is a mistake—he’s your insufferable roommate who regularly makes your fists clench with anger, but he’s also the object of your deepest desires.

you’re too far in to back away now.

“go ahead,” you pause to let out a breath. “right now, i’m all yours.”

when you finally lean in to close the distance, your lips collide in a kiss that’s equal parts animosity and desire. it isn’t gentle, and it isn’t soft—it’s raw and furious, so overwhelming he loses himself and pulls you in, black nails digging crescents into your skin. in a manner that’s just as forceful, your hand finds its way to the nape of his neck and yanks him in, causing your teeth to click together sharply. the hungry kiss deepens, and his tongue slips into your mouth, stroking against your own. the deep-seated anger and tension that had been piling on top of each other is finally dissolving into something far worse—something so intoxicating you begin to wonder how you were living without it.

sukuna pulls back breathlessly, unable to look anywhere but your face. a small, glossy string of saliva connects your lips together, a sign of an encouragement to test the waters and continue. surely a heated makeout session would lead you to a crossroads, where you’d be left wondering how much further this could go, with only each other to figure it out.

sukuna coughs out a rueful laugh. “it’s funny, isn’t it?"

“what is it?” you demand, lips tingly from the kiss.

“i find it amusing this took so long to happen. of course, it was bound to eventually.”

“well, it’s only because you can’t keep it in your pants, sukuna.”

“and you can’t keep yours on,” he retorts, hooking his fingers into the flimsy waistband of your pajama pants before sliding them off your legs. now, only a thin layer of fabric hides the place he wants to see most. effectively silenced and now matching his black underwear, you take him in, eyes sweeping over his features. beneath his black tattoos, his skin flushes red, all the way up to the tips of his ears; his mouth is slick and shiny with a mixture of your spit and his own, and the silver spikes beneath his lip gleam temptingly.

“what’s wrong?” he questions expectantly, fingers curling around your chin with surprising force and tugging you forward. “cat got your tongue?”

“maybe i’m just waiting for the right moment to pounce,” you push forward stubbornly, forcing him onto his back so you can straddle him. you silence anything he would’ve said with another kiss, and sukuna’s hands travel from your hips to your ass. he gifts it with a squeeze and a pleasured groan slips out against your lips before he slides his fingers into your underwear.

the rough pads of his fingertips stroke over the skin of your ass while you suck on his tongue impatiently, hips occasionally rolling against his own. to add to each movement of your hips, you tease him a little more, using your teeth to lightly tug at the jewelry of his lip piercings. each moment of friction is something between solace and torture for his cock—it’s adequate, but it’s not enough and he’s dying for more.

you smile against his lips, sneaking a hand between your bodies to play with his cock. it’s an experimental gesture to test the waters, see how he reacts; the moment your fingers come into contact with his thick bulge, he groans, leaning up. one squeeze has him rushing to sit up so quickly his forehead knocks into yours. ordinarily, sukuna would’ve made a scathing comment, but he doesn’t have much to say when he grabs ahold of your wrist and pushes it into his boxers.

it’s a decision that further stokes the long burning fire that’s been ablaze beneath all the arguments and unbearable conversations; it’s something that has it roaring into an all consuming inferno.

“fuck,” sukuna chokes out, nipples hard against your loose shirt while he rests his hands on your ass. “you’re making me fucking crazy.”

you ignore him, rolling your eyes dismissively at his heavy panting and clenching abs. instead, you focus on lavishing his neck with attention in the form of wet kisses along the skin. he shudders a little as your tongue darts out to wet his skin before he eventually decides he’s had enough and cages you in his arms. you’re startled when you’re caught in something akin to an alligator death roll, opening your eyes to see that you’re pinned down beneath him.

“then do something about it,” you suggest, legs spreading without him having to ask.

sukuna groans deeply, his head spinning at the sight of you being this vulnerable in front of him. “take off that shirt now.”

the demand strikes you hard, his voice reverberating to your core. while you busy yourself with doing as he asked, sukuna kicks the pillows and blankets off the bed before positioning himself on his stomach. now, he’s eye level with your thinly covered pussy. he hasn’t seen it yet, but it’s sure to be everything he’s dreamed of. saliva pools on his tongue while impatience propels him forward, and he skates his fingers along your thighs, taking in the softness of your skin.

it’s not enough to simply touch you.

no, sukuna needs to smell you, taste you, feel you, devour you.

he intends to do so.

“what’re you—?” your voice trembles as you look downwards, nipples hardening at the sensual sight. sukuna’s nose is pressed to your thigh, and he’s breathing in with every inch upwards. you had expected something faster, more filthy, but sukuna’s behaving like he’s absolutely been dying for this.

the dull spikes of his lip piercings press into your plush skin and over a small area of your panties when he finally makes it to your hip. wordlessly, he slips his hands under your ass and raises you up while he takes a bit of your panties between his teeth. slowly, they slide down your legs.

a sweltering heat surges up your neck and to your face while another pools in your tummy like magma beneath a volcano. you writhe on the bed eagerly, too excited to have your panties finally out of the way. those fervent crimson eyes stare at your pussy and watch it flutter around nothing before flickering up to yours.

“don’t blame me if you can’t walk later.”

your face drops in annoyance. “why do you always have to ruin good moments?”

“a warning is hardly enough to ruin this.”

“but—”

a harsh, smarting slap to your pussy has you cutting yourself off with a pitched cry of delight that bounces off the walls and into sukuna’s long term memory. he raises an eyebrow, watching you closely as your legs settle and you return to your spread position.

“you liked it, didn’t you?”

“liked? it hurt.”

“i wouldn’t put it past you,” he says, eyeing your dripping, clenching cunt. “i’ll just do it again.”

you roll your eyes, bucking toward him impatiently. you want him inside you, and he’s hung up on moving slow to torture you.

“whatever. just fuck me alr—”

“ah ah,” he admonishes you with a slap that’s much rougher and directed to your clit. against the mattress, his cock swells with arousal. “i intend to fuck you my way. if you have a problem with that, i’d love to see you fight to be on top.”

tears gather in your eyes, threatening to spill over and cascade down your cheeks. desperation and unbridled need easily shifts to frustration and anger that has you spitting, “i hate you.”

“don’t be like that. you’re soaking wet,” he points out with a self assured smirk. sukuna spreads your thighs impossibly wider and leans in, letting the tip of his nose graze your clit. the featherlight touch makes your skin prickle all over.

to be honest, you didn’t expect the events of last night to lead you here in the morning. in fact, you assumed you’d wake up on your respective sides of the bed and argue a little about snoring before departing. since most of your interactions usually go that route, this entire situation is shocking—but a small part of you is extremely thankful it’s finally happening.

there had been days so tense you’d considered sex as a solution, but never brought it up.

“s-sukuna!” you moan helplessly, grabbing at the sheets and twisting them beneath your fingers. with his teeth, he playfully nibbles at your folds, savoring the sudden catch of breath in your throat and whimpery cries. your quivering legs settle over his shoulders, and he appreciates the change, utilizing the new angle to pull you closer.

that sharp tongue of his can certainly do more than hurl creative insults all day long—it’s killer, and entirely hypnotic as he sloppily mouths at your cunt. wet slurps and lewd smacks of his lips have you shuddering, eyes rolling back into your skull.

“‘kuna,” you whine, long and drawn out, “don’t stop, d-don’t fuckin’ stop.”

he pushes his thumb into your clit and looks up, lips shiny with your bittersweet slick. “what did you just call me?”

“sukuna,” you lie nervously, trembling beneath his touch and craving more.

“now, girl,” he scoffs, and the new nickname doesn’t sound as demeaning as the usuals. “that isn’t what you said. go ahead and say it again for me.”

you look him in the eyes, feeling small beneath his heavy gaze. “‘kuna. that’s what i said.”

sukuna offers a gratified hum before returning to your sloppy pussy. a glob of spit sparkles in the morning light as it slips down your hole, making more of a mess. “keep calling me that, i like it.”

white hot euphoria zips through sukuna’s nerves as he dines on the wet dessert your pussy is. it’s the best breakfast he could’ve ever had—sweet as sugar and made even better with your decadent moans spurring him on. oh, the way you shakily card your hands through his hair and let your nails scratch over his scalp . . each electrifying touch shoots straight to his cock, and he discreetly ruts into the matress.

his tongue dips between your folds and he groans against you, eyes rolling back when you squeeze down on him like a vice. the once cold room is hot, your bodies feeling feverish from your own shared heat—if you were outside, you’d have melted the snow into puddles.

sukuna has always had an abnormally long tongue. he ponders your reaction to him pushing deeper, but the fluttering of your walls leaves no room for second thoughts.

“sukuna, holy fuck,” you sob, a tear or two running down the bridge of your nose. “y-your tongue, it’s so big—w-wait, wait a second.”

it’s painful to lose the fullness of his tongue, but you pull back and cup his face in your hands, looking down at him with a desperate look he won’t be able to refuse. “can . . can i ride your face, ‘kuna?”

you’re so cute with that little pout and those glossy eyes begging for more. sukuna smiles meanly, the lower half of his face dripping with your essence while his teeth gleam sharply.

“you liked my tongue that much, huh?” you nod, looking a little dazed as he gets onto his back. he helps you swing a leg over him, but before you sit down, his hand lands hard against your ass. “shit, you’re such a dirty girl. jus’ begging for me to get you off, aren’t cha? show me how much you fucking want it.”

you whimper, gasping out some kind of affirmative answer. sukuna tenses his tongue and sticks it upwards, then tugs you down impatiently.

“shit!” you squeal, startled by how fucking long his tongue is. it fills you up almost entirely, probably an inch and a half short of your cervix. whiny ooh’s and ah’s fall from your lips as you unsteadily rut your hips into his face, grinding your clit hard into his nose. “sukuna, ‘m close, you’re gonna make me cum . . ”

“you’re gonna make yourself cum, girl. ‘s all you.”

his voice is muffled, but you can somewhat hear him over the lewd squelches and noisy moans that fill the room. despite it all, he’s got stars in his eyes as he watches you ride his tongue to oblivion—stringy drool slips past your lips and your tits bounce deliciously while your face crumbles in euphoria.

“oh my god,” you weep, voice breaking, “‘m gonna cum on your fuckin’ tongue—”

one blissful tremor is the precursor to so many more. your jaw becomes slack and tears run down your face as you finally reach your high.

“‘kuna, ‘m cumming!”

the stifling tightness in your tummy finally snaps and leaves you a convulsing mess on his tongue, shaking so hard your teeth inevitably begin to chatter. sukuna smacks his lips, almost entirely satisfied—but then he roughly lifts you and sits you down on his chest.

you’ve got hearts in your eyes and you’re obviously drunk on him, ready for more.

“clean it up,” he demands, tilting his head to the side. without question, you lean forward and kiss him, tasting yourself with a moan. a groan rumbles deep in his chest when you pull back and start to sloppily lick at his cheek, tongue running over his tattoos. “good girl.”

“sukuna, i need—i want . . ” you flounder breathlessly, unsure of how to ask him.

he slaps your ass, scarlet eyes darkening lustfully. sukuna clicks his tongue, egging you on. “beg for it.”

“beg?” you ask incredulously, grinding your cunt into his abs. “i hate begging.”

“then you don’t get what you want, simple as that.”

“but—”

“no buts, girl.”

“f-fine,” you cede, afraid of being left unsatisfied, “please, i need your cock inside me . . i need you to fuck me hard.”

“there she is,” sukuna coos, flipping you over and reversing your positions so he’s above you, “my nasty slut. you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

you nod weakly, which has him flipping you onto your stomach and huskily growling into your ear. “fucking say it, princess.”

“all yours,” you slur your words, limply letting him maneuver your body.

“on your knees,” he pauses to gather your wrists together behind your back, pulling you toward him. “that’s right.”

with his free hand, sukuna tugs his boxers down so quickly the fabric audibly tears, and he tosses them over his shoulder.

the room is a disaster. blankets and sheets hang off the foot of his bed while pillows litter the carpeted floor in every direction. not to mention the discarded pajamas and underwear scattered around as well, evidence of the storm between yourself and your roommate.

your cunt is throbbing by the time he guides the tip of his spit slicked cock between your folds. it’s bulbous and fucking huge as it presses into you, slow and deep. sukuna tosses his head back with a loud groan when his cock bottoms out, pulsing against your cervix.

“loosen up, girl,” he grunts, your sticky walls bearing down hard around his cock, “can’t fucking move.”

“w-wait,” you whimper, nearly falling forward. your jaw hangs open loosely as you try to fathom the stretch and fullness his cock imposes. “‘kuna, you’re too big, i can’t—”

“please, this sloppy pussy was made for me,” he huffs, drawing his hips back and leaving merely the tip of his cock inside of you. “jus’ take it. you can and you will.”

he says nothing else before shoving forward, plunging his cock as deep as it can go inside you. it thickly pushes past rings of muscle and stretches you open, filling your ears with wet squelches. he sets a ruthless rhythm into place, focusing on taking your ability to walk tomorrow. tears pathetically pour down your cheeks and fall from your jaw to the damp sheets below, and you no longer can control all the noise you’re making. babbled cries of yes! and inaudible moans fall from your bitten lips, all of it spurring sukuna on.

“hah, shit,” he rasps, unable to tear his eyes away from where you’re connected—his cock slides in and out of your creamy pussy rapidly, the smacks of skin against skin sounding like an applause. “b-been waiting for this, goddamn.”

“i thought you hated me,” you wail desperately, feeling each thrust of his cock in your lungs. whenever the tip roughly kisses your cervix, your cunt squeezes around him while you cry out something incomprehensible.

sukuna pushes his tongue into his cheek, digging his black nails into your wrists tightly. “you were the one who hated me the whole time.”

“i-i didn’t!” you protest weakly, struggling to recall what you were just about to say. “it was you who started it—with your friends!”

“what’d we do?” he groans, pushing his free hand through his hair to remove the strands sticking to his sweaty forehead.

“uh, you—right there!—you were . . ”

“did i already fuck you dumb, girl?” sukuna snarks, his palm coming down hard across your ass. “can’t even remember, hm? perhaps if you weren’t so busy slutting yourself out for me you’d have something to fuckin’ say.”

his words are bitter, but they manage to help you recall your memory. “you were talking shit about me, a-and you threw that party the night before a big test i had—shit, ‘m gonna cum!”

“ah ah,” he snaps, voice edged with something domineering and dangerous. you’re pulled back by your numb wrists, and sukuna leans forward to speak directly into your ear: “you don’t get to cum until i fuckin’ tell you to. now, girl—finish that story for me.”

a miserable sob tears past your lips, “sukuna, i-i can’t, ‘m gonna cum right now—”

your wrists are released, making you fall forward into the mattress. your head can’t stop spinning and you’re in no state to catch yourself, so instead you accept the new position mutely.

the palm of sukuna’s hand presses into the crown of your head and his nails dig into your scalp while his warm breath fans against the shell of your ear. “don’t you fucking dare,” he hisses arbitrarily. “i said to finish the story.”

“i-i heard them saying horrible things about me!” you babble gaspingly, “i think you went along with it . . i didn’t hear you telling them to stop.”

“so that’s why you hated me?”

“yes! god, but i didn’t really—i wanted to talk about it s-sometime, but not right now!”

he chuckles ruefully, letting your head go. “now, girl. if i’d known something so stupid was the reason you’ve supposedly hated me, i would’ve taken care of it much sooner.”

you cry into the sheets, feeling the telltale throb of his thick cock deep inside you. “please—please lemme cum!” the words slur together, making you sound truly cock drunk.

“alright, princess,” sukuna hisses, teeth sinking into his lower lip, “go ‘head and let it allll out. cum all over this fucking cock, lemme feel it.”

stars flicker across your vision, and you cum with a broken cry that tears from your throat almost painfully. your gummy walls grip him like a vice, sucking the cum out of his cock. with a drawn out groan, he finally cums, collapsing on top of you and panting into your shoulder.

as you come down together, high pitched beeps fill the house. the microwave and oven come back to life, and the lights in every room snap on as the power is restored at last.

“goddamn,” he huffs, pulling you into a sideways spooning position without letting his cock slip out of you.

“tired?” you ask hoarsely, tired eyes running over his sweaty, flushed face. “clearly, that took a lot out of you.”

“me?” sukuna barks in offense. “look at you, you’re the one covered in tears.”

you pull out of his arms, whimpering breathily as his cock slides out of your pulsing cunt. the base of it is covered in creamy rings while the rest of his length shines wetly. sukuna spreads your trembling thighs and groans loudly at the sight—frothy globs of cum spill from your weeping hole, which clenches around nothing hungrily.

truthfully, sukuna would never be able to rid himself of the memory of your cunt swallowing his cock eagerly. the slip and slide paired with the immense heat had nearly made him cum on the spot . .

sukuna’s chest heaves with each breath as he lolls his head to the side to observe you. “for the record, i’m no longer friends with those vile people. cut it off right after they came into my home and started talking shit about you.”

embarrassment crashes over you like a wave. “wait, you never told me about that!”

“you stopped talking to me and decided to be argumentative all the goddamn time.”

you roll your eyes, looking off the bed awkwardly. a few pillows are scattered on your side, and you reach over to pick them up, tossing them to the foot of the bed.

“anyway, how did my pillow wall get destroyed?”

“don’t get upset.”

“what did you do?” you question him accusingly, narrowing your eyes at him.

“after you fell asleep, i moved two of them.”

“i used six different pillows!”

he dismisses you with a wave of his hand, smirking at the frustrated shock that takes over your features. “i thought it’d help me figure out what your problem was in the morning. obviously, it did.”

you snatch a pillow and hit him right in the face with it, savoring the moment of justice like high quality chocolate. “there. that’s what you get.”

sukuna rips the pillow from your hands and hurls it across the room, turning over to you with a wicked smile playing on his lips.

“you were saying?”

[dix0nspretty]

Something something having a bad day and finally getting home to relax with a comfort food and a drink under your favorite blanket only to spill it all over you. Staining your shirt and soaking the blanket.

Breaking down in tears because why can’t anything go right?

Simon coming home to find his love bawling her eyes out, teary and borderline wailing.

Thinking she’s hurt or someone’s done something to her until you babble to him about work and stress and “stupid fucking motor skills, I can’t even feed myself-“

Simon taking it upon himself to fix everything. Making up a warm bath full of bubbles, candles lighting the bathroom so you don’t have to put up with fluorescent lights.

Scooping you up into his arms like you weigh nothing- it’s laughable when you mutter something about being too heavy. As if.

“Hush,” he murmurs and sets you atop the sink, taking your wet clothes off with a gentleness unlike the large Lieutenant.

He gets you situated in the bath, leaving to return several minutes later with a brand new drink and food for you.

By then you’re embarrassed over the breakdown, peeking at him from your hiding spot behind the bubbles.

He pays it no mind. You’re shy, so what? It won’t stop him taking care of you.

“You’re alright love,” he says in a loving tone that’s reserved for you. Only for you. He’ll sit with you in the silence of the room, not bothering to make you speak or ask you questions. You’re overwhelmed, that much is clear, and you deserve some peace and quiet.

So Simon sits beside the tub with you, feeding you small bites as the soothing water and aromas calm you down. He treats you like a princess, washing your skin and your hair for you. Blatantly ignoring whenever you protest that “I can do that, Si, you don’t have to-”

You’re his baby, his world, and he’ll treat you like so.

He dresses you in his clothes so you’ll feel warm and comforted in his big hoodie and boxers. Staking his claim on you.

He tucks you into bed despite your whines of how early it is, wraps his mountain of a body around yours to keep you grounded and feeling safe. Turns on that show you’ve seen a million times that he bitches and moans about but watches anyways.

And he watches you fall asleep, whispering soft declarations of love and adoration into your dried hair. Never letting you think for a second that you aren’t absolutely cherished.

[bunnyinvanilla]

sugar daddy bar!owner john price x sugar baby!waitress series

🥀 |warnings: +18, laaargw age gap (reader is 21 and price is in his 40s), fem!reader, sugar daddy/baby relationship mentioned, not smut but suggestive.

price thought a doll like you deserved a grown, strong old man like him to treat you like a princess — spoil you rotten, wrap you up in bubble wrap and take care of you. You didn’t need to work, get your pretty hands sore and tired from pouring drinks all the time. he’d give you all the money you needed to pay off your college and to get all the pink, girly things you liked so much, ribbons and all. You just needed to sit cutely on his lap, to be his, and he’d give you the whole world. He was in his 40’s, you had only recently turned 21, a flower on the prime of her blossoming youth, who could give an old, worn out man like him some sugar.

that’s why he offered you to be his sugar baby. that offer, made you flush on the spot — he was so confident and composed, unfazed by his own words. The moment he saw redness spread over you cheeks, he knew he had you. His mustache twitched, his salt and pepper beard stretched as he wore an amused, lazy smile. you were always so obedient and compliant to him, always chirping a “yes sir” to anything he’d ask or tell you to do, a sweet, young, too young lil thing, eager to earn his praise, to feel those goosebumps trail down your skin when he muttered a gruff, deep “good girl”, you’d be the perfect submissive, you’d have it in you to be trained already, even in your innocence and inexperience..

..but, you’d initially declined his offer, because “I want to earn that money, sir, and I’d feel bad if you just..gave it to me like that”

oh, how honest, naive, innocent and pure you were. He admired that about you, but you could see it in his eyes, the way he cocked his thick, dark brown brow upward, that he didn’t believe you’d cling onto those words for long. He knew you were just too shy to accept, but you wanted to. You wanted to be his pretty, little girl. and he was right, as always. One particular night, you’d found a moment to lean your arms against the wooden counter and just breath. You’d been studying all morning, head buried in your notes, and when you got to the bar, you found dozens of soon to be drunk men ready to order alcohol and ask you to bring them ashtrays.

you wanted nothing more than go back home, snuggle in your pink, soft blankets and read your so loved books — it had just been a draining day, you enjoyed your job, but to be honest with yourself, the thing you liked the most was feeling john’s attention and eyes on you during your whole shift and maybe you could finally have someone provide for you.

so, that’s how you found yourself in front of his office door, hesitating lightly while millions of tiny butterflies flew around in your chest, your cheeks as red and warm as ripe strawberries under the summer sun.

knock, knock.

he’d recognized that knock. A feeble, light thud against wood. That couldn’t possibly have been Simon, whose hand could make the whole door shatter down with a single knock, nor Soap’s — bloody hell, that man never bothered to knock at all, he’d just break in.

so he wasn’t surprised to see you, standing meekly in front of his large, wooden desk, the hem of your skirt hugging your milky, bare thighs, your fingers fidgeting together and your eyes looking down at his sitting stance, shy and timid.

“what is it, doll? need ol’ price?” his voice was so rough, so husky, you wondered how it would sound from between your thighs, or from behind you, while his large palm pulled your hair to make you arch against him.

you blinked once, gathering courage to ask for what you’d secretly been daydreaming about, your boss, old enough to be your father, aging like the finest wine, showing you things you’d never ever experienced.

“about your offer, sir” your cheeks were burning, flaming up, “if I accept, can I still come here and help you around?”

“if you accepted,” he almost didn’t even let you finish, eyes already darkening at the thought, a wave of desire rushing through his weary, battle scattered heart, “you could do whatever you wanted, angel, you’d just have to say please”

[rcvcgers]

Rotten Apples, pt. 2

masterlist , series masterlist , ao3 link

part one , part three , part four , part five , part six , part seven , part eight , part nine

18+ MINORS DNI

pairing: caleb x non!mc reader

synopsis: you run into a familiar face at work.

word count: 4.9k words

warnings: extreme loathing, kinda funny, kinda sad, a good mix of everything! a hint of foreplay! not proofread!

author's note: thank you for all the love on part one! here's part two! should there be a part three? also, enjoy a pic of caleb i grabbed from the game today!

taglist <3 : @kebarney @pinkismyfavcolor @romils @erisnxxi @rik0shii @reni502 @spacehopper27 @llamabois @likesvader @pandoras-rabbit @princessfruit @lukassafespace @jexizia

Caleb couldn’t say how long he’s been standing outside your door for. Had it been an hour? Three? Maybe it’s only been thirty minutes…time truly flies by when he’s with his love.

It doesn’t matter, though. Caleb would stand guard outside your door if it meant that you were safe.

Safe and alone inside your apartment…no other specimen in there to protect you.

Caleb wouldn’t let them come in if they came. He’d use his evol to shove them towards the side stairwell. He’d shove them down and watch as their bodies crumbled together, bones breaking, finding their screams of pain and agony satisfying.

It would all be worth it because you’re safe. All because of his much needed protection.

You’re his.

His to protect. His to look after. His to care for. His to love.

He glances to the side and notices that Skyhaven’s clouds have slightly parted. A smile spreads across his face, the man sneaking towards the hallway window, looking out at the morning sky. The weather is still undoubtedly gloomy, but the slight sight of sun is sign enough for him that you two are meant to be.

Caleb prances down the hallway, stopping by your door one last time. He slowly inhales, his eyes feeling heavy, and flattens his palm against it.

He’ll be seeing you soon.

The Colonel exits your apartment building, his phone attached to the side of his face. His voice is cheery and if you were to hear it, you’d think that his face would be all smiles and joy. It isn’t, though, and is instead a stoic expression.

“Hey, buddy. Remember that favor you owe me? Well, it’s time to cash in. I need you to get me information on someone. Yeah, yeah, I’ll send her name over to you now. Great! Thanks!” He hangs up and settles into a spot across the street.

People pass in front of him, his back pressed against the outside wall of a convenience store. Caleb barely pays attention to other woman who pause to get another look at him. He doesn’t have time to entertain their fantasies. He’d prefer to cater to your wants and needs. You deserve it after all your years of being apart.

Caleb tilts his head up and finds your window. His sick smile returns to his face, waiting for you to appear.

Except, he doesn’t know that you don’t peer out the window in the morning. Instead, you stay in bed for as long as you can, face and body covered by your sheets and obnoxious amount of blankets. 

Your arm sticks out, slicing through the chilly morning air.

Shit. You think to yourself. Did the heater not kick in?

Your toes feel inexplicably cold despite being buried under a behemoth of blankets. Slowly sitting up in bed, your tired eyes look around your dark room before they float to the butterfly that hangs from your window. You love how the orange and blue hues grace the floor, softly turning the cold environment into something warm and welcoming.

It reminds you of home and most importantly, it reminds you of him.

You can’t help but laugh, slapping your forehead as you slip out of bed. Last night was a trip and a half!

Your date with George was so bad that you actually hallucinated Caleb being alive. Ha! It’s laughable, really, and you can’t even fathom who was there to witness your crazed haze. You definitely sounded like a crazy person, probably looking like the other blacked out people on the street who struggled to get home.

“Poor guy,” you say aloud, filling in your apartment’s silence, “I hope we never run into each other again.”

Oh, the irony.

You slowly get ready for your day. You take a quick shower, already running late, and stumble into your closet with your toothbrush hanging from your lips. You snatch a clean uniform jacket from the hangers, sliding it over your white blouse. You tuck your shirt into your black pencil skirt and make for sure there are no wrinkles in the fabric.

You hesitate, staring at yourself in the mirror. 

Who are you trying to impress, anyways? It’s not like you’re going to find your Prince Charming at work.

Finally ready for your day, feeling rejuvenated and having shaken off your hysterics from the previous night, you step out of your apartment. You chew on a last minute attempt at making toast. The bread is dry instead of being lathered with butter, a complete oversight on your part.

You don’t even have time to stop for a coffee for a boost of energy. How the hell are you going to get through the day?

The rain stopped but the clouds still hang low in the sky. You’re used to the gloomy days, you actually welcome them with open arms. Too much sun reminds you of home and all of the misfortune you went through and, well, Linkon has a Wanderer problem that you want to avoid. Skyhaven still has them but it’s significantly less. You have the Fleet to thank for that.

And you definitely don’t have to thank a certain hunter who always seems to be at the scene of the worst attacks. As long as she stays away, you can live in peace knowing that if a Wanderer were to show up, she wouldn’t be the one to save you.

Your job as a translator stresses you out. Your boss, Darryl, is a weird, perverted dick that abuses his power. Whenever you don’t accept his daily flirts or go to HR about his behavior, you’re rewarded with horrible assignments that take years off of your life because you’re surrounded by men who are exactly like Darryl. You swear that you’ve seen a gray hair or two sprout from your head.

Being a translator under Darryl is a soul sucking job. You’ve applied to different departments in the Deepspace Aviation Administration, but Darryl has decided that you’re only good enough for translating documents and transcripts.

Your dream is to be a live translator, one that sat in a hidden room during negotiations and meetings between presidents and generals. Hell, you’d be fine with translating between the generals’ secretaries! It’s a thrill that you’ll unfortunately never be able to experience.

A big fuck you to Darryl.

You step through the shiny and clean doors of the Deepspace Aviation Administration. The building is eerily tall, shooting further into the atmosphere. You’ve managed to stay within the clouds, though, barely able to move past the fifteenth floor. Your security clearance is less than desirable, but it hasn’t stopped you from inching your way to the top.

You hope to see the secret levels soon enough but sincerely doubt it.

You smile at Abel and Remy, who work the entrance of the building, manning the security clearance that you pass through every weekday. You place your bag down on the conveyor belt, scanning your I.D. card in the little pad before stepping through the metal detector.

“Good morning you two,” you greet them with a familiar smile.

“Morning!” Remy chimes with a smile. He hands you your bag and nudges Abel’s side. He barely looks up, waving, before sinking his head back into the computer. “He slept like shit. Don’t mind him.”

“It’s all good,” you shrug, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Just as you are about to step away, Abel’s head shoots up.

“Stay here. You were flagged.” Abel waves his hand in the air. Two nicely dressed soldiers approach you, guns slung on their sides. Your eyes widen, looking around for any kind of sign that this is a prank that Remy and Abel were pulling on you.

When the soldiers approach you and take your arm, a weight forms on your shoulders. 

It’s not a prank. It’s very fucking real.

Terror rips through your body. Your eyes widen as the masked soldiers stare down at you, their eyes dark and unwelcoming.

“Ma’am. Follow us,” one of the soldiers barks at you. You nod, ready to comply, but are unable to move your feet. You try to move your leg but it doesn’t budge. You awkwardly laugh to yourself, looking down at the unresponsive limb.

Move, dammit! You internally scream, cheeks heating up. 

Remy gives your back a gentle tap, nudging you forward. You stumble over your feet, pushing through the gap between the soldiers.

They track you from behind and occasionally bark a direction for you to take. They guide you towards the elevator that is reserved for higher ranking officials and officers. Your gulp, heart pounding in your chest. Your ears begin to ring, heating up as nausea overtakes your body. You close your eyes and grip the railing in the elevator, clinging to the cold metal for some kind of relief.

Where did it all go wrong?

Did you translate something wrong? Is it your fault that a world war is about to erupt? You knew you should have told Darryl to not give you assignments on the language you’re weakest at! He should have given it to Miranda!

Your foot rapidly taps against the elevator floor. Each ding from a new floor heightens your anxiety, body shivering at the thought of what could happen to you.

Ding.

Goodbye cruel world!

Ding.

It was nice knowing you all!

Ding.

Don’t forget about me! Use my death as an example on what not to do!

You have heard many stories of what happened to translators that interpreted a word incorrectly. They simply disappeared off the face of the earth and were never heard from again. Or they ended up teaching languages at a community college far away from Skyhaven and the Fleet.

You’d rather disappear off the face of the earth than succumb to that fate.

The elevator doors slide open. You look up from the floor, surprised to see a normal looking work environment. One of the soldiers place their hand on your back, pushing your forward. You move with his hand, not particularly enjoying his touch. You shoot him a glare, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’ll take her from here.”

You freeze. Goosebumps spread across your skin and chills run down your spine. You focus on the wall in front of you, a figure sliding in front of your vision. Your eyes are met with a black uniform, the typical red, white, and blue accents that the Fleet uniforms have.

Your eyes float up, taking in the figure before you. Purple eyes stare down at you, your haze focusing on the golden spot that lays on the bottom of his iris. The nausea you once felt disappears but is quickly replaced with an even worse feeling of complete and utter dread.

“Caleb?” His name rolls off your tongue like butter, melting the ice that surrounds your heart.

So last night was not a dream. Caleb was the one to save you from George, not some random stranger who was there at the time. It was your ex-childhood best friend.

A semblance of a smile flashes across his face before his gaze sharpens. He looks you up and down, hands behind his back. Your gaze drops, taking him in his entirety.

Fuck…he looks great in his uniform.

“Long time no see,” he quips, stoic expression remaining on his face. “Follow me.” Without missing a beat, he turns on his heel and begins to walk away. You look around, blinking as if it’ll snap you out of the dream you’re clearly inside of.

When you don’t follow, Caleb walks back. His fingers curl around your wrist, his touch shocking your body to life. You fumble over your words, random sounds fleeing from your lips, as Caleb guides you away from invasive eyes.

His hair is still short but is just shaggy enough to remain charming and add to his looks. Your squint your eyes, noticing a few light scars on the right side of his body. They creep up his neck from under his wrinkle-free uniform. Caleb opens a door and you step inside, swallowing whatever confusion you had left in your mouth, and turn to him.

“Caleb?” Your voice is breathy. Caleb’s eyes fix themselves on you, the man leaning against the closed door with his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re…what?”

“Take your time,” he chuckles. Your breath gets caught in your throat. His chuckle makes you want to jump for joy. “We are on a time crunch though, pipsqueak—”

“Don’t call me that,” you interrupt him, hissing as your instincts take over.

Any positive feeling you felt towards him in the past five minutes has vanished. You glare and cross your arms over your chest.

How dare Caleb call you that? That was always her nickname, alongside other ridiculous pet names that always made you gag whenever you looked back in your memories.

You made for certain that you’ll never be his pipsqueak.

You groan, rolling your eyes, and turn away from him. To him, it feels like you just drove a knife into his heart. He stares at the back of your head, his gaze falling for a brief moment, noticing the curve of your ass, before circling in front of you.

“I won’t call you that…noted,” he breathlessly chuckles. Once you tilt your chin up to show your glare, his chuckle gets caught in his throat. He covers it with a cough, suddenly feeling nervous around you.

Caleb has never felt this way with you before. In the past, everything was so easy! It was smooth sailing with you, low maintenance. He knew that you didn’t need the constant validation from him whereas she always needed it.

Maybe that’s been his foolish mistake all along. He should have paid more attention to you instead of her.

Is this what loathing feels like? Complete and utter contempt towards someone? Caleb hasn’t experienced this kind of negative feeling before, at least, not with her.

He had always felt so alive whenever she looked his way. Her beauty and innocence was so captivating. He adored playing the hero she needed.

Where was your hero? Who was there to call you pipsqueak or any other cheesy nickname? God, he’s been a fucking idiot.

“Is there…a nickname you’d like me to call you? For old time’s sake?” Caleb’s question earns him an angered scoff from you.

“You can call me by my name, thanks,” You look at him, eyes flickering down to his exposed neck.

His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. His gloved hand reaches for the collar of his shirt, wanting to loosen his restrictive tie, but falls. When your eyes meet again, his shoulders tense before relaxing.

Is he…is he nervous?

“Tell me, Colonel,” you begin. Caleb’s head perks up and he looks at you, hanging onto every word that comes from your lips. “Why am I here?”

“I heard you’re the best translator we have,” Caleb’s compliment makes you raise your eyebrow, “I only want the best. I need you to translate something for me.”

“Sure, I can do that. Not like I have much of a choice, right?” Your half-joke earns a loud laugh from Caleb. You raise an eyebrow at him.

Really? You think to yourself. That’s what made you laugh?

“I forgot how funny you are,” Caleb comments. He pokes your nose and your face scrunches up, watching as he turns on his heel, opening up the door. You stare at his back and the memories of him from your childhood come pouring in.

You sit alone on a bench. You watch as Caleb stands in line with her at an ice cream stand. You watch them with close and steady eyes, your gaze transfixed on how she plays with his fingers. They laugh and lean into each other, undoubtedly whispering secrets that only they can know to one another.

It pained you, yes, to always be pushed to the sideline. You got used to it with time. You didn’t notice it the first year of knowing them. You were all careless and innocent children. Of course there was no malcontent with their actions!

However, the constant repetition of being left out only to be covered with half-asses apologies and sorries became very old really quick.

And it definitely felt like a stab in the back when you hear their mingled laughter through your open window. You’d catch your self sitting by the window, sighing to yourself as they played knight and princess in Josephine’s backyard.

Whenever you played with them, she always made you the monstrous dragon that held her captive. Caleb had to the the one to kill you. You had to watch from the ground, covered in dirt and dust, as he brought her into his arms, swinging her around.

Her thrilled shrieks and giggles were like poison to your soul.

You were only eight.

With thicker skin and a heart beginning to protect itself with a shield of ice, you braved the final days of your friendship with them. When it grew to be too much, you left.

It was the best decision you could have made, right?

It felt so easy to leave, even as they excluded you from the ice cream line. What’s funny is that they forgot to get you your sweet treat, meaning that you had to eventually stand in the line by yourself while they relaxed on the bench.

You were always left with sticky fingers while he cleaned hers, calling her by that stupid fucking nickname while he wiped away the melted ice cream from her fingertips. They were clean and pristine while yours were left with sticky residue and bits of napkin that lingered behind.

You were almost always determined to ditch them after moments like these. You laid in bed, holding your favorite plushie to your chest, when a small pebble hit your window. You walked over, pushing the glass open, as you poked your head outside.

Caleb stood on the ground below. He smiled up at you and held up a small plastic bag. You watched as he climbed up the side of your house with ease, using the vines to reach your window.

The anger slowly left your body the closer he got to you. He’d poke his head instead and you plucked the plastic bag from his mouth, revealing a small metal butterfly you had saw in town earlier that day.

“I got it just for you,” he said, resting his elbows on the windowsill. You watched him with wide eyes, your ice heart melting from his actions and words. “A token of my appreciation.”

Maybe sticking around for a little longer isn’t a bad idea, you thought to yourself.

You always loved butterflies after that day.

“You coming?” Caleb asks, head tilted to the side.

Looking around, you realize where you are and shake away the bittersweet memories from your childhood. You let out a ragged breath. Your lungs burn and your vision blurs.

His purple orbs memorized every detail of your face. When he noticed the small amount of tears in your eyes, he reached forward, wanting to catch them before they had the chance to fall. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You slap his hand away and push past him, entering the main room.

As you walk, you realize that what’s left between you two has expired.

The apple of his eye is not you. You were a Granny Smith while she was a Honeycrisp.

You were perpetually sour and she was always refreshing. Everyone always lavished in her presence while you faded into the background. You were left out in the sun while she was carried inside and taken care of.

It’s no wonder why you’re rotten to the core. 

Daggers of pain stabbed into his sides, slipping between his ribs, leaving him breathless. His perfect demeanor finally reveled a crack, head lunched over. He follows you into the hallway, planting himself at your side.

Clearly, there is something wrong with you. Not in a way like there is with him, you know, having failed his psych evaluation, but something that is deeply rooted in your core. He wants to rip your chest open and to pull your heart out. He wants the slowly pull away the thorns that pierce your heart and kiss the wounds. He desperately wants to mend your internal wounds and hold you until you fall asleep in his arms.

“Where’s the file?” You ask him, the tears now gone from your eyes. A slow and ragged breath leaves his mouth, unable to look away from your remarkable face. You snap your fingers in his face, irritation blossoming inside your chest.

“Oh, right,” Caleb recovers. He lays his hand on your lower back. Warmth seeps through the thin fabric of your blouse. Despite the anger you felt a minute ago, you can feel your body relax under his touch. You can tell that he notices it too when his cocky smile returns to his face. You tear your gaze away from his, heat tingling your ears from embarrassment.

He leans down to whisper something in your ear but you turn your head away, not wanting to hear anything else from him. Thankfully, he catches on and straightens his posture.

The office is foreign to you. Many hallways lead in different directions. People in uniforms turn left and right, catching you off guard as Caleb pulls you out just in time before you collide with them. They barely look up from the papers in their hands or leave their conversation to say sorry or apologize.

Caleb swiftly guides you through the floor. The two of you weave and bob through the organized chaos. People stop and salute Caleb as he passes by. He nods in their direction, his charming smiling disappearing as he puts his Colonel mask back on.

He opens a door and reveals an almost empty interrogation room. There’s no two way mirror nor are there the usual cameras in the corner. At least, that’s what you’ve seen on your favorite television show. You step inside, flinching when the door slams closed, the faint click of a lock making goosebumps form all over your skin.

“No need to be nervous, Caleb says, sitting down into one of the chairs at the metal table. He spreads his legs open, making himself comfortable. He looks up at you, gesturing to the chair in front of him. You hesitate, having to force your eyes to look away from his legs, and sit in the chair beside him.

The table only has a few items. Caleb takes off his hat, placing it near the edge. He plucks off his gloves, taking his time since you’re watching him, and set them on top of his hat. In the center sits a neat stack of papers with a few pens and pencils on top. Beside that is an audio recorder with an attached set of earbuds.

“You know how to be discreet, right?” Caleb asks. You sneak a glance at him, throwing a bit of side eye, before picking up the audio recorder.

Ha. Do you know to be discreet…how do you think I got through high school? I was discreet with my hatred of your beloved pipsqueak

“I’ll manage,” you cooly respond.

You already know the drill.

You put on the headphones, you write down whatever it is the people on the other side are talking about, and you hand your work over to Darryl.

Except…Darryl isn’t here. Caleb is.

And you aren’t at your usual workstation using your computer to type. You’re actually writing these words down. What kind of mission is this?

“Then you know that you’ll be working directly under me for the assignment,” Caleb leans closer to you. You pay no attention to it.

“Will I?” You play coy and look at him, batting your eyelashes at him.

Caleb has to picture Josephine naked to stop the tent from forming in his pants.

“Yes…” his word comes out as a whisper.

“May I know any background on it? You know, for translation sake.” You can feel him slowly draw you in.

Those purple eyes that you quickly get lost in. The way his fragrant cologne smells. The way his canine tooth flashes whenever he smiles.

And that fucking uniform. Fuck me. You think.

“It’s classified,” he breathes back, your faces mere inches from each other. Caleb is so thankful that there are no cameras inside. If this keeps going the way he wants, he’ll have you bent over with your panties in your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Shame,” you quickly quip back. You tear yourself away from Caleb, leaving him hanging in the tension you two created. You grab the earbuds and slide them inside your ears. The first piece of paper is placed in front of you and you opt for the pen, knowing you never make mistakes.

Caleb watches you with close eyes. Your hand moves at a furious pace, swiftly scribbling down the words from the audio file.

He sits up in his chair, resting his elbow on the table beside him, placing his chin on his raised palm. The Colonel’s eyes close and he slowly inhales. That sweet yet spicy scent of apples and cinnamon fill his nostrils. He slowly exhales, hoping that your perfume lingers on his uniform long after you leave.

His eyes open when he hears you switch to a new paper. You slide him the filled one, you fingers grazing against each other, before you continue to write like you have a gun to your head.

Caleb chuckles to himself. He leans to the right. With the slight movement, he’s able to get a better look at your face.

Your brows are pushed together, no more space between the two. The skin below your bottom lip is sucked in, slowly moving back and forth. Are you…eating yourself? Your eyes flit to him for a brief second. Your face relaxes before it immediately returns to its focused state.

You are so beautiful. Even when you focus on the assignment at hand, Caleb can see the dedication you have for the things you love.

He hopes that soon, he’ll be number one on the list of things you care about. Caleb can brag about it to his already minuscule group of friends, showing off the future photos and selfies you’ll take together. He’ll be able to say that you’re his and nobody else’s.

If someone like George were to come in the way of that, well, he’ll deal with them and lock you away so you don’t have to witness it.

“What are you looking at?” You question, not even looking up from the paper. You slide it to him, drawing your hand away before he can touch your delicate skin, to feel just how soft it is even if it was for a fraction of a second.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” His question surprises the both of you. It slipped from his thoughts before he could stop it from escaping. Caleb’s face remains stoic. On the inside, though, he’s screaming at himself for coming off as too strong.

Your pen scratches to the side, destroying the perfect lines you’ve made from transcribed words. The tip of the pen pierces the paper. Black ink pools around the sharp metal tip. Your fingertips turn white from how tight you grip the pen.

Caleb reaches over you, his muscular arm passing in front of your gaze, trapping you in your chair. He grabs the audio recorder, the device looking minuscule compared to how large his hands are. Veins are prominent in his hand, leading up his wrist before disappearing under the fabric of his uniform jacket.

Your gaze starts from the tips of his fingers, gently dragging past his exposed skin and up his dark material of his uniform, sliding up his shoulder, hovering on the bare skin of his neck. The audio recording in your ear pauses. Caleb retracts his arm, hooking his finger under your chin. He eases your eyes the rest of the way up to his.

Your breath hitches. Lips barely parted, your cheeks flush from his touch and how close he is to you. His lips are mere inches from yours.

All it takes is one…gentle…push…

“I asked if you were doing anything tonight,” the raspiness in his voice makes your lower stomach purr. Your eyes fall to his lips. You gnaw the inside of your cheek, slowly leaning closer to him.

“Are you asking me as Caleb? Or as my Colonel?” You whisper.

“Which one will you say yes to dinner with?”

“Hmm…” you quietly hum. You reach out, fingers curling around his uniform’s tie. You give it a firm tug. A low groan emits from Caleb’s throat. You smirk. “Neither.”

Caleb matches your smirk. His hand snakes up your arm. His long, slender fingers wrap around the entirety of your hand. He overpowers your grip and the tie falls free from your hold. He brings your knuckles to his lips. He plants a firm kiss to them, his eyes locked onto yours.

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

You push away from the table. Cheeks red, unable to breathe, you step away from him and to the interrogation room door. You tug on the cold door handle, the metal immediately warming due to you body heat. The lock clicks and you shove the heavy hunk of metal forward, escaping into the public eye of the office.

[mononijikayu]

a day in a life — ryomen sukuna.

You set Yuji down, and he immediately takes your hand in his tiny one, his other hand reaching out to grab Sukuna's sleeve, tugging at him. "Uncle Sukuna, come on!" Sukuna grunts, letting Yuji pull him along, his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and reluctant affection. “Alright, alright, brat….I’m coming.” he says, trying to sound grumpy but failing spectacularly. You smile at the sight of them together and take Sukuna's other hand. "Looks like we're both in for an adventure, aren’t you?" you whisper.

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: safe for work (sfw), fluff, family, slice of life, family dynamic, light hearted, domestic, romance, protectiveness, crying, hugging, banter, humour, physical touch, happy ending, hurt/comfort, depictions of family dynamic, depiction of getting lost, depiction of anxiety, depiction of slice of life, menction of amnesia, boyfriend! sukuna, amnesiac! girlfriend! reader, domestic uncle sukuna!, nephew!yuji, i love you nephew!yuji;

WORD COUNT: 6.4k words

NOTE: the people have spoken and ryomen sukuna won my poll (again) so this is a special treat for yall!!! this is the aftermath of amnesia and reader and sukuna got back together. this is maybe a year or so to them getting back together. yuji loves his auntie!!! anyway, i hope you enjoy it. i had a lovely time writing it because this is what we deserved from gege!!! i love you all!!! thank you for your continued love <3

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── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

IT WAS YOUR DAY OFF. And that was something you and Sukuna had agreed about in the early dawn of your relationship together. You wanted to get to know this man you fell in love with, and many years had passed since you both even got together after your amnesia. One of those days was today. With no work obligations today and Sukuna taking a break from managing his gym, the two of you had indulged in a much-needed cozy day. 

A lot of things would change. So, Ryomen Sukuna stepped up to the plate and took some time off to just have days to cherish your time together. 

Everything had been blissfully quiet, a rarity for both you and Sukuna. Like always on these days, you’d spent the morning wrapped in a warm blanket together, watching a movie you both had half-paid attention to, more engrossed in each other’s company than the plot unfolding on screen.

Ryomen Sukuna had his arm draped around your shoulders, his fingers lazily drawing patterns against your skin. Your boyfriend doesn’t sleep that much, but when he’s in his lazy days with you — he makes an effort to rest. You worry a lot for him, after all. And he doesn’t want to add more to those worries. Begrudgingly he does it, but it makes you happy. 

He expected to spend the day with you like this all day. And Sukuna was happy with that. He likes having time with you like this, just embracing each other’s warmth and talking over the bad television shows and ordering in if you don’t feel like getting up and making a meal together.

Life was great. This was his day in a life. Sukuna had dreamed of it for years since you parted. And now that you’re together again, it just all fell into place. Nothing could be better than this. And he adores it. 

But then Sukuna's phone rang, and you watched as his expression shifted from contentment to annoyance. He sighed, glancing at the caller ID — his twin brother, Itadori Jin. You looked at him curiously as he sighed.

Reluctantly, Sukuna answered, his voice gruff. "What’s up?"

You could only hear Jin’s voice faintly on the other end, speaking quickly. Sukuna’s face darkened as Jin explained the situation — some emergency at work that demanded his immediate attention.

Because of this, Kaori, Jin's wife, would have to go and pick up their eldest son Choso alone for vacation. They didn’t wanna agitate with a long drive, since Yuji is still a little boy. And with no one else to watch over their young son, Itadori Jin was left with only one option.

Ryomen Sukuna pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated. You could almost hear his internal mantra: ‘Don’t say it, don’t say it…’

But Jin, with his usual charm and desperation, finally got to the point. “Look, can you just babysit Yuji for a couple of days until we’re back? We don’t have anyone else.”

Sukuna opened his mouth, ready to protest, but before he could even get a word out, you grinned and cut in. "Oh, we'd love to! Right, Sukuna?"

Sukuna shot you a glare that was more pout than anything else. He looked betrayed, as if you had just handed him the world’s most inconvenient challenge. You couldn't help but bit your lip, trying to stop your laughter. He's always like this when it comes to his nephew. He likes to pretend that he doesn't like him and yet, he does. A lot.

For a moment, you think he was almost like a kitten who found his owner’s antics unpleasant. You felt the tension in his arm, the muscles flexing in silent rebellion. He’d been so ready to complain, to give a flat ‘no’ but your enthusiasm left him no room to argue.

Jin laughed on the other end. “Great! Thank you, sister in law! We’ll drop him off in an hour.”

As the call ended, Sukuna tossed his phone onto the couch with a dramatic sigh, leaning his head back and closing his eyes as if he’d just endured a great ordeal. “Really?” he muttered, a sulky undertone in his voice. "You had to say yes?"

You laughed softly and nudged him with your elbow. "Oh, come on, baby. It'll be fun! Besides, Yuji is adorable. Don't you think so?"

Sukuna opened one eye, giving you a side-eyed glance. "He’s a menace, that brat." he grumbled, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "A little gremlin in disguise."

You leaned closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. "And I think you secretly like him." you teased.

He snorted, though his arm tightened around you instinctively. "Yeah, well, I like my peace and quiet more. ‘specially since I get my fill of you."

You blushed at his words. For a moment, you could feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek, steady and strong, and you knew he would complain, sulk, and groan about this for the next hour.

But you also knew, without a doubt, that he’d be the one sneaking Yuji cookies before dinner, making silly faces just to hear him giggle, and pretending to be indifferent even as he kept a protective eye on the kid. After all, he loved his little nephew. Even if he doesn’t say it out loud.

“Fine." Sukuna grumbled finally, his voice resigned but affectionate. "But don’t blame me if he decides to climb the walls or something.”

You smiled, planting a soft kiss on his jaw. "Deal." 

Sukuna’s sigh was heavy, dramatic, but there was no mistaking the way he leaned into your touch, accepting his fate with a grumpy fondness that only made you love him more.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

day one

IN NO TIME, YOU WERE ALREADY PARKING. You watched as your boyfriend carefully looked at the space as he parks with precision. You liked being in the Itadori household. Somehow, you just felt the warmth of bing alive here. They treated you like family even when you and Sukuna haven't even married. And today was no different.

When you and Sukuna arrive at Jin and Kaori’s house, you could just feel how the sun shines brightly as you pull up to the driveway. Itadori Yuji is already waiting outside, a tiny bundle of energy with his little red backpack on, his face lighting up the moment he sees you. You barely have time to get out of the car before Yuji bolts over, throwing himself at you with an enthusiastic hug that nearly knocks you back.

“Auntie!” he squeals, wrapping his small arms around your legs.

Your heart melts instantly. "Hey, Yuji!" you greet him, scooping him up effortlessly and spinning him around in a playful circle. "I’ve missed you, little guy!"

Yuji giggles, clutching onto you tighter, his face buried in your shoulder. Over your shoulder, you see Sukuna standing by the car, arms crossed, his mouth set in a grumpy line. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel the simmering annoyance rolling off him in waves.

You shoot him a playful smile. "Look, baby!" you tease. "He's already so attached!"

Sukuna rolls his eyes, but there’s no real malice in his expression. “Yeah, yeah.” he grumbles, though his lips twitch like he’s trying to hold back a smile. “Don't spoil him too much.”

You grin and bounce Yuji in your arms, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "How could I not? He's too cute. So precious too!”

Yuji beams up at you, clearly enjoying the attention. "Auntie, can we go to the playground?" he asks excitedly, his eyes wide and hopeful.

You look at him, amused. "Of course, we can, buddy! What do you want to do at the playground?"

Yuji's face lights up even more, if that was possible. "I wanna see my best friends! Nobara and Megumi! They’ll be there like usual!" he declares with all the seriousness a toddler can muster.

Sukuna lets out a low groan from behind you. “Great.” he mutters sarcastically. “Not only do we have to babysit the brat, but now we’re running a daycare service.”

You glance over at him with a laugh. "Come on, it'll be fun! Besides, it'll be nice to meet his little friends."

Sukuna sighs dramatically, but you catch the way his gaze softens just a fraction when he looks at Yuji. You know he would never admit it, but he has a soft spot for his nephew, even if he won’t say it out loud.

You set Yuji down, and he immediately takes your hand in his tiny one, his other hand reaching out to grab Sukuna's sleeve, tugging at him. "Uncle Sukuna, come on!"

Sukuna grunts, letting Yuji pull him along, his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and reluctant affection. “Alright, alright, brat….I’m coming.” he says, trying to sound grumpy but failing spectacularly.

You smile at the sight of them together and take Sukuna's other hand. "Looks like we're both in for an adventure, aren’t you?" you whisper.

Sukuna shoots you a look, but the corner of his mouth quirks up just slightly. "Yeah, sure. An adventure." he mutters, but you see the way his grip tightens around your hand.

Yuji swings between you two, his laughter bright and infectious as you make your way to the playground, where a day full of play, giggles, and unexpected joy awaits. You can’t help but think that he’s the purest thing in life.

The neighborhood playground is a colorful blur of swings, slides, and a few scattered benches where parents and caregivers chat while keeping an eye on their kids. You could pick up the sound of laughter filling the air from afar, and Yuji’s excitement is palpable as he practically vibrates with energy between you and Sukuna. He seems to love this place.

“Where are they?” Yuji asks, his head swiveling in every direction with tenderness, searching for his friends. “Where’s Nobara? Where’s Megumi?”

You crouch down to his level, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon, Yuji. Do you want to try the swings while we wait?”

Yuji nods eagerly. “Yes! Push me, Auntie!” He drags you over to the swings, his little legs moving as fast as they can. Sukuna trails behind, hands shoved into his pockets, doing his best to appear indifferent. But you catch him watching Yuji with a faint smile on his face when he thinks you aren’t looking.

You carefully lift Yuji into the swing, securing him before giving him a gentle push. Soon enough, his little fits of laughter fills the air, bright and pure, as he kicks his legs back and forth, asking for “Higher, higher!”

Sukuna leans against the swing set's metal frame, observing the scene with a mix of amusement and begrudging fondness. "Careful, babe." he warns, though his tone lacks any real bite. "Don't launch him into orbit."

You laugh softly. "Come on, he's having fun!" You give Yuji another push, his giggles ringing out as he soars through the air. "See, Sukuna? This is what a good day looks like."

Sukuna grunts, but there’s no hiding the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Sure, sure. I’ll take your word for it.”

Just then, a small voice calls out from behind you, full of excitement. “Yuji!”

You turn to see a little girl with a red bow in her hair running over, a boy with dark, serious eyes following at a more measured pace. Yuji’s face lights up even brighter. “Nobara! Megumi!” he shouts, waving his arms enthusiastically.

Nobara reaches you first, hands on her hips and a bright grin on her face. “Hey, Yuji! Hi!” She waves up at you, her bright grin was confident and charming. "Are you Yuji's auntie?"

You nod, charmed by her boldness. "I am! It's nice to meet you, Nobara. And you must be Megumi?" you say, looking over at the quiet boy who stands just a bit behind Nobara.

Megumi nods, his expression serious. “Hi.” he says quietly, his gaze shifting between you and Sukuna, assessing. He seemed like a weary kid, but you don’t blame him. 

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You two Yuji’s bodyguards or something?” he teases.

Nobara puffs out her chest, clearly taking it as an offense. “Huh?!  No we’re not! We’re his best friends!” she declares proudly. Megumi gives a small nod as he hides that almost imperceptible smile at her confidence. 

“Tch, brat—”

“That’s great!” You grinned at her. “Thank you for taking care of Yuji!”

Yuji hops off the swing, rushing over to grab his friends’ hands. “Let’s play!” he shouts, already pulling them toward the jungle gym.

You stand beside Sukuna, watching them run off with a fond smile. “See? Isn’t this nice?”

Sukuna grunts, though there’s no mistaking the soft expression on his face as he watches Yuji. “Yeah, yeah… maybe.” he mutters. “As long as nobody starts crying. Or falling and then crying.”

You laugh and nudge him playfully with your elbow. “Just admit it, you’re having a good time.”

He finally relents, sighing dramatically. “Fine, maybe it’s not that bad.” He turns his head slightly to look at you, a glint of affection in his eyes. “But only because you’re here.”

You feel a warm flutter in your chest at his words and lean closer, brushing a kiss against his cheek. “That’s the spirit, baby.” you tease softly.

As you both stand there, watching Yuji play with his friends, you feel a sense of contentment settle over you. It’s simple, this moment, but somehow perfect in its simplicity — surrounded by laughter, sun, and Sukuna’s reluctant but undeniable fondness for his nephew. And you were enjoying it all. Taking it all as it is. It was the perfect day.

Suddenly, Yuji runs back over, out of breath but beaming. “Auntie, Uncle! Can you come play too?” he asks, tugging at both of your hands with his small ones.

You glance at Sukuna, who looks momentarily caught off guard. But then, with a sigh and a half-smile, he bends down, ruffling Yuji's hair. “Alright, brat.” he says, his voice mock-gruff. “What do you want us to do?”

Yuji's eyes shine with excitement. "You can be the monsters, and we'll be the heroes!"

Sukuna raises an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm a monster now?" he grumbles, but you can tell he's already warming up to the idea.

You laugh, taking Yuji’s hand. “Okay, monsters it is. But you better run fast, heroes!”

With that, Yuji squeals in delight, dragging his friends back to the jungle gym as you and Sukuna pretend to chase after them. Sukuna might act like he’s reluctant, but you catch the way he’s smiling, truly smiling, and your heart feels impossibly full.

For now, there’s no place else you’d rather be. And you meant it.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

day two

THE EXHAUSTION FROM YESTERDAY DIDN’T PREVENT YUJI FROM WANTING TO ENJOY TODAY. When the next day dawns with bright and clear skies, you could only think that it was the perfect weather for a trip to the zoo. Itadori Yuji was up early, bouncing with excitement, and his enthusiasm quickly became infectious. 

Even your boyfriend, who had initially grumbled about being dragged to a “smelly zoo” eventually caved in to his nephew Yuji’s pleas — especially after you flashed him a knowing smile and those eyes, reminding him how much this meant to his nephew. He couldn't deny you, no matter how much he tried. He grumbled loudly about it before finally saying yes. But you knew just as much that he was enjoying himself. 

You haven’t been in a zoo in a very long time, that much you could be honest about. Sukuna doesn’t seem to care for it either growing up. But you think that this was going to be great for Yuji. He adored animals. Even just seeing them on the television makes him happy and curious. It was his first time going and seeing animals like this, up close. And you just know that it would be such a great time for him.

As soon as you arrive, Yuji is practically vibrating with energy. He tugs at your hand and points at the map, his little face glowing with excitement. “Auntie, Uncle, can we see the lions first? And then the penguins! Oh, and the monkeys too!” he babbles, his words tumbling over each other in his eagerness.

You nod with a smile. “Of course, Yuji. We have all day to see everything!”

Sukuna shakes his head, hiding a grin. “Just try not to run off, brat.” he warns, ruffling Yuji’s hair. “We don’t want to be chasing after you like yesterday at the playground.”

Yuji beams up at him. “Okay, Uncle Sukuna! I’ll stay with you!”

You spend the morning moving from one exhibit to another, enjoying the wonder in Yuji’s eyes as he watches the animals with wide-eyed fascination. He claps excitedly at the lions, laughs at the playful monkeys, and insists on mimicking the penguins’ waddles, much to your amusement and Sukuna’s reluctant chuckles.

You take plenty of photos, capturing the joy on Yuji’s face and even getting a rare shot of Sukuna smiling genuinely, one arm slung casually around your shoulders as he watches Yuji with a fond, if exasperated, expression. You think that you’ll have fun looking through it and printing it out for the photo albums. You were sure Kaori and Jin would love to have some copies too.

By lunchtime, you settle down at a picnic table near the petting zoo area. You hand Yuji a juice box, and he takes it eagerly, swinging his legs and chattering non-stop about the animals he’s seen and what he wants to see next. You all carefully eat your lunches and just let the food settle down for a little while. Sukuna sat beside you, drinking a big glass of cola to try and cool off the heat.

“Auntie, Uncle, can we see the elephants next?” Yuji asks between sips, his face flushed with excitement.

You nod. “Absolutely. After we finish lunch, we’ll head over there.”

“That's on the other side of the zoo.” Sukuna points out to you.

You looked at your boyfriend with a small smile. “And guess what? We’re still going!”

Yuji grins and quickly finishes his juice, already standing up and tugging at your arm. “Okay, let’s go now!”

You laugh softly, but Sukuna gently pulls him back to the table. “Hey, slow down, kid. Let us finish our food first.”

Yuji pouts for a moment but eventually nods, bouncing on his toes while he waits. A few moments pass, and you’re almost done with your meal when a family nearby starts laughing loudly, drawing Yuji’s attention. Curious, he takes a few steps toward them, his bright almond eyes wide with interest.

“Yuji, stay close to us.” you remind him, keeping an eye on him as he moves closer to see what’s happening.

But as you turn to answer a question from Sukuna, just for a second, when you look back, Yuji is gone. Your heart drops to your stomach as your eyes open widely, your mouth shaking as you try to speak. You suddenly couldn’t speak and fright started to get to you.

“Yuji?” you call out, your voice a bit louder now, scanning the area. Panic begins to creep into your chest.

Your boyfriend Sukuna immediately stands up, his expression shifting from relaxed to alert in an instant. You can tell by the look in his eyes. He was just as panicked. 

“Where’d he go?” he asks, his voice tight with concern.

You feel a knot forming in your stomach as you look around frantically. “He was just here, babe…i just….”

Sukuna curses under his breath, his eyes scanning the crowded area with growing urgency. “Yuji!” he calls out, louder this time, his voice cutting through the chatter of the crowd.

You quickly weave through the nearby groups of people, calling Yuji's name, your heart racing. You could feel the knot of guilt in you. Your mind started to race with many thoughts. You could have looked after him better, you could have been more vigilant. You were the adult. How could you let this happen? Sukuna is right behind you, his hand protectively on your back as you search, his expression darkening with worry.

“He couldn't have gone far, babe.” you say, trying to keep the panic from your voice. “He’s probably just wandered off… right?”

Sukuna clenches his jaw, a determined look crossing his face. “Yeah, but we need to find him now.” he says firmly.

You both decided to split up, checking around the petting zoo and nearby exhibits. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and a dozen scenarios flash through your mind. But you push them aside, focusing on finding Yuji.

Minutes feel like hours as you weave through the crowds, your desperate voice growing hoarse from calling his name. Just as your heart is about to leap into full-blown panic, you hear a familiar, small voice.

“Auntie?”

You turn sharply and spot Itadori Yuji standing a few feet away, holding the hand of a zookeeper. Relief floods over you as you rush over, immediately dropping to your knees and wrapping your arms around him. You could feel like you were going to burst into tears just holding him like this. You were relieved. He was here. He was safe. He’s okay. You thank the gods above.

“Yuji! Thank goodness, you’re okay!” you say, your voice trembling with relief.

Yuji looks up at you with wide eyes, his lower lip trembling. “I’m sorry, Auntie. I just wanted to see the elephants…”

You hug him tighter, feeling your boyfriend’s presence beside you as he drops down to Yuji’s level, his expression stern but his eyes soft. He must have seen you both and ran over here as quickly as he could. He purses his lips int a tight line as he observed his nephew for injuries or bruises and even cuts.

“Brat, you scared us.” Sukuna says, ruffling Yuji’s hair more gently this time. “You have to stay close, got it? Don’t do that again.”

Yuji nods, tears brimming in his bright big eyes. “I’m sorry, Uncle Sukuna… I didn’t mean to…”

Sukuna’s expression softens completely, and he sighs, pulling Yuji into a hug. “Yeah, yeah, it’s okay, brat.” he mutters, his voice a little rough. “‘s not your fault, okay? Just….hold my hand next time.”

Yuji nods against his shoulder, and you reach over, brushing a tear from his cheek. “Come on, let’s go see those elephants, hmm? Together this time,” you say softly.

Yuji sniffles but nods, and you stand up, taking his hand. Sukuna rises too, keeping a protective arm around you both. “Yeah, together.” he agrees, his tone firm but warm.

You thank the zookeeper and solemnly leave, with Sukuna carrying Yuji in his arms still trying to comfort him. Your boyfriend pat his nephew’s back, stroking it over and over to comfort him. It broke your heart that Yuji was upset. But he was here. And he’ll be okay. That’s all that mattered to you. You knew just as much that Sukuna was the same.

The three of you head toward the elephant exhibit, Yuji keeps close between the two of you, his little hand gripping yours tightly, and Sukuna’s hand resting on his shoulder. Despite the scare, you feel a sense of calm wash over you, knowing that as long as you’re all together, everything will be alright. 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

day three

THE SLEEP WAS ROUGH LAST NIGHT. You didn’t want to let go of Yuji in your sleep. He had ended up not wanting to leave your bed last night and slept with you and Sukuna in your bedroom. He still was anxious from being lost, you can’t help but think. And you don’t really blame him for it. Sukuna didn’t utter a word and just let it be, wrapping the covers on your bodies and went to close the night light.

Come morning, you wake up to the sound of muffled clinking and clattering coming from the kitchen. You couldn’t help but blink your eyes open, the early light filtering through the curtains. Beside you, Sukuna stirs, frowning slightly at the noise. 

“What’s that racket?” he grumbles, rubbing his eyes.

You sit up, listening closely. The noise continues — the unmistakable sound of plates and silverware being moved around, a chair being dragged across the floor. You glance at Sukuna, a smile tugging at your lips. “Sounds like our little guest is up to something.”

Sukuna narrows his eyes suspiciously. “That brat better not be doing anything dangerous in there.” he mutters, though there’s no real heat in his voice.

You both get out of bed and quietly make your way to the kitchen, peeking around the corner. There, in the middle of the kitchen, stands Yuji, a determined expression on his face as he tries to balance on a chair he's pushed against the counter.

His small hands are busy spreading a thick, uneven layer of butter on a piece of bread, followed by an enthusiastic dollop of jam. Nearby, a bowl of cereal overflows with milk, and a few spilled Cheerios are scattered across the counter.

Yuji mutters to himself under his breath, clearly focused on his task. “Okay, okay… just a little more…” He tips the milk carton a bit too far, and more milk splashes onto the counter. He gasps softly but quickly goes back to his sandwich-making, a look of concentration on his face.

You can’t help but smile, and Sukuna, despite his earlier grumbling, looks a bit amused too. “What’s he doing?” Sukuna whispers, leaning closer to you.

“I think… he’s making us breakfast, babe.” you whisper back, feeling your heart melt a little.

Before you can say anything, Yuji notices you both standing there. His eyes widen in surprise, but then he beams, his face lighting up with pride.

“Auntie! Uncle Sukuna!” he exclaims. “Good morning! I… I made you breakfast!” He gestures to the chaotic spread on the counter, looking so proud of himself that you can’t help but feel a swell of affection.

You step forward, giving him a warm smile. “Wow, Yuji! This looks… delicious!” you say, trying to sound as genuine as possible while suppressing a laugh at the mess.

Sukuna crosses his arms, one eyebrow raised, but there’s a soft look in his eyes. “Yeah, brat, you really outdid yourself.” he says with a small grin. “What’s the occasion?”

Yuji’s smile falters a little, and he looks down at his feet, shuffling nervously. “I… I wanted to say sorry for yesterday.” he mumbles. “I didn’t mean to make you worry… So I wanted to make you a special breakfast to make up for it.”

Your heart melts at his sincerity. You crouch down to his level and pull him into a gentle hug. “Oh, Yuji, you don’t have to do that for us.” you say softly. “We know you didn’t mean to worry us. We’re just happy you’re safe.”

Yuji hugs you back tightly, burying his face in your shoulder for a moment. “But I wanted to, Auntie!” he insists. “Because I love you and Uncle Sukuna… and I wanted to make you smile.”

Sukuna’s expression softens further, and he crouches down next to you, ruffling Yuji’s hair. “Hey, brat, you already made us feel relieved.” he says gruffly, though his voice is unusually gentle. “But I guess we should at least taste this fine meal you’ve prepared, huh?”

Yuji’s face lights up again, and he nods eagerly. “Yes! I made a sandwich and cereal! It’s my favorite!”

You and Sukuna exchange a glance, amused but touched by Yuji’s earnestness. You take a bite of the butter-and-jam sandwich, doing your best to keep a straight face as the unevenly spread butter melts on your tongue alongside a very generous layer of sweet jam.

“It’s… unique.” you say, giving Yuji a big smile. “Thank you, Yuji.”

Sukuna follows suit, picking up the cereal bowl and taking a careful sip of the overly milky concoction. “Mmm.” he says with a nod, holding back a chuckle. “Not bad, brat. Not bad at all.”

Yuji beams, clearly delighted by your reactions. “Yay! I’m glad you like it!” He claps his hands, his earlier nerves completely gone now.

You reach over and give Yuji another hug. “Thank you for being so thoughtful, Yuji.” you say warmly. “You’ve definitely made our morning.”

Sukuna nods, wrapping an arm around Yuji’s shoulders. “Yeah, brat….you’re alright.” he says, a rare softness in his tone. “But next time, let’s make breakfast together, okay? Might save a little bit of the kitchen from total destruction.”

Yuji giggles, nodding eagerly. “Okay, Uncle Sukuna! Next time, we’ll make pancakes!”

You smile, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you as you look at the two of them. Despite the mess, despite the unexpectedness of it all, you can’t think of a better way to start the day.

Later that morning, as you and Sukuna help Yuji clean up the kitchen — which now looks like it’s survived a mini tornado — your phone rings. You glance at the screen and see it’s Jin calling. You exchange a quick look with Sukuna, who’s wiping a smear of jam off the counter, and answer the call.

“Hey, Jin!” you greet him warmly, keeping an eye on Yuji, who is carefully stacking dishes in the sink. “How’s everything going?”

Jin’s voice comes through, sounding a bit tired but cheerful. “Hey! We’re wrapping up at work sooner than we thought. Kaori’s gonna arrive in a day or two. I just wanted to let you know I’m on my way back home. I should be there in a few hours.”

You feel a pang of mixed emotions — relief that Jin and Kaori are safe and on their way back, but also a little sadness knowing this means Yuji’s stay with you is coming to an end. “That’s great news, Jin.” you say, glancing at Yuji. “We’ve had such a fun time with Yuji, he’s been wonderful.”

Jin laughs. “I’m glad to hear that! I hope he wasn't too much trouble for you guys.”

Sukuna snorts softly, overhearing the conversation. “Trouble? That’s an understatement.” he mutters, though there’s a fondness in his voice that he doesn’t bother hiding.

You grin at Sukuna’s comment before turning your attention back to Jin. “No trouble at all.” you assure him. “Yuji’s been an absolute sweetheart.”

Jin sighs, a smile evident in his tone. “Thanks for looking after him. We’ll come to pick him up as soon as we get back.”

You hang up the phone and turn to Yuji, who’s watching you with wide, curious eyes. He tilts his head slightly. “Was that Daddy?” he asks, his little voice hopeful.

You nod, smiling gently. “Yes, Yuji. Your dad said he and your mom are on their way back. They’ll be here to pick you up soon.”

Yuji’s face falls, and his shoulders slump. “But… but I don’t wanna go home yet.” he murmurs, his lower lip jutting out in a pout. “I’m having so much fun with you and Uncle Sukuna…”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looks down at his nephew. “Oh, come on, brat.” he says, trying to sound stern but failing miserably. “You miss your parents, don’t you?”

Yuji frowns and shakes his head, his small hands clenching the hem of his shirt. “But I wanna stay here longer! We didn’t even make cookies yet!” he protests, looking between you and Sukuna with pleading eyes.

You kneel down to his level, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Yuji, we’ve had so much fun with you, and we’re going to miss you too.” you say softly. “But your mom and dad miss you too, and they can’t wait to see you.”

Yuji’s eyes welled up with tears, and he looked down, his voice barely a whisper. “I know… but I like being here… with you two.”

Sukuna sighs, his expression softening. He crouches down beside you, his hand resting on Yuji’s shoulder. “Hey, brat.” he says, his tone gentler now, “Just because you’re going home doesn’t mean we won’t see you again. We’ll have more fun days together, I promise.”

Yuji sniffles, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Really?”

“Really.” Sukuna confirms, ruffling his hair. “And next time, we’ll definitely make those cookies, huh? Maybe even chocolate chip ones. What do you say?”

Yuji’s face brightens a little, and he nods, his tears already forgotten at the mention of chocolate chip cookies. “Okay… but can we still go to the park one last time before I go home?”

You exchange a glance with Sukuna, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “Alright, one last trip to the park.” he concedes with a smirk. “But only because you already made us breakfast.”

Yuji grins, and you can’t help but smile too, your heart feeling full. “Let’s get ready, then.” you say, standing up and taking Yuji’s hand. “One more adventure before your parents come to get you.”

Yuji cheers, jumping up and down excitedly. “Yay! Let’s go!” he exclaims, all traces of sadness gone.

As you head out the door, you feel Sukuna’s hand slip into yours, giving it a light squeeze. “You’re good with him, you know? Thank you for that, babe.” he murmurs, a rare softness in his voice. 

You smile up at him. “Oh, you don’t have to thank me. You’re just as good with taking care of him, you know? Love that about you, babe.” you reply.

Sukuna couldn’t help but snorts but doesn’t disagree, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he leads the way, Yuji’s laughter filling the air. And for now, that’s all that matters.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

epilogue

Itadori Choso finally arrives home from college after a long drive. He was eager to spend some time with his little brother, Yuji. Being far gone in college, all he thinks about is when he’d get to play with his little brother. And he can’t wait. He steps into the house, dropping his bags by the door with a loud thud, and immediately calls out in front of his mother.

“Yuji! I’m back!”

Yuji, who has been doodling in the living room, perks up and runs over to greet him. “Big brother!” he shouts, throwing his arms around his older brother in a big hug. But no sooner has he hugged Choso than he starts babbling excitedly. “Guess what! I had the best time ever with Uncle Sukuna and Auntie!”

Choso’s smile wavers slightly, and he looks down at Yuji with a puzzled expression. “Oh, did you?” he asks, his tone laced with a bit of unease. “What did you do with them?”

Yuji’s eyes light up as he launches into a detailed recount of every moment spent with you and Sukuna, from the trip to the zoo to making breakfast and playing at the park. “And then Uncle Sukuna said we’ll make chocolate chip cookies next time! And Auntie said we could go to the beach too!”

Choso’s smile turns into a slightly forced grin as he listens, nodding along but feeling a twinge of jealousy in his chest. “Wow, sounds like you had… a lot of fun.” he says, trying to keep his voice light. “But hey, I’m back now, so we can have fun too, right? We can do all the things we used to do!”

Yuji’s face scrunches up in thought for a moment before he shrugs. “I guess…” he says, a bit too nonchalantly for Choso’s liking. “But Uncle Sukuna is really funny, and Auntie gives the best hugs. And we were going to make pancakes!”

Choso’s eye twitches slightly. “I can make cookies too, you know,” he says, sounding just a tad defensive. “I’ve been making them for you since forever, Yuji.”

Yuji nods, but he looks unconvinced. “Yeah, but… Uncle Sukuna flips them really high in the air. And Auntie says we can put as many chocolate chips as we want!”

Choso crosses his arms, his brow furrowing. “Oh, really?” he mutters. “Well, I bet Uncle Sukuna can’t make cookies shaped like dinosaurs like I can.” He puffs out his chest a little, feeling smug.

Yuji’s eyes widen for a second, but then he shrugs again. “Maybe!” he admits. “But Uncle Sukuna and Auntie took me to the zoo and the park, and we saw a real dinosaur—uh, I mean, a lizard that looked like one!”

Choso’s eyebrow twitches again, and he huffs. “Yeah, well, that’s cool and all, but I’m way cooler than Uncle Sukuna, right?” he says, trying to sound casual, but his voice pitches a little higher than usual.

Yuji tilts his head, considering this for a long, exaggerated moment. “Umm… I dunno…” he finally says, looking genuinely torn. “You’re both cool. But Uncle Sukuna can lift me with one arm! Can you do that?”

Choso frowns. “Of course, I can! I’m your big brother!” He scoops Yuji up in a single swift motion, lifting him high into the air. “See? I’m strong too!”

Yuji giggles, kicking his legs. “Okay, okay! You’re strong too, Choso!”

Choso sets him down with a triumphant grin, feeling like he’s finally won this little contest. “See? You don’t need Uncle Sukuna. You’ve got me.”

But then, just as Choso thinks he’s secured his place as Yuji’s favorite, you and Sukuna walk through the front door, having stopped by to return a forgotten toy. Yuji’s face lights up like a thousand-watt bulb. “Auntie! Uncle Sukuna!” he squeals, running over to you both.

Choso watches, deflated, as Yuji clings to your leg, babbling excitedly about your return. He turns to Sukuna, glaring a little. “So, you think you’re the cool uncle, huh?” he grumbles.

Sukuna smirks, crossing his arms with a cocky grin. “I don’t think, kid. I know.”

Choso rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath, “I knew I should’ve stayed home this semester…” 

You laugh, noticing Choso’s pout, and lean in conspiratorially. “Don’t worry, Choso.” you say with a wink. “There’s always room for many cool people in Yuji’s life.”

Choso sighs but manages a smile. “Yeah, yeah, I guess so.” he mutters, giving in with a playful eye roll. “But I’m still making those dinosaur cookies with him today.”

Yuji bounces up and down excitedly. “Dinosaur cookies with chocolate chips!” he exclaims, clearly enjoying this newfound competition for his affection.

Sukuna scoffs, grinning. “Game on, Choso. Game on.”

And with that, Choso knows his days of being Yuji’s favorite are numbered… but at least it’ll be fun trying to win back the title.

[brainddeadd]

luke and his girlfriend being all cute while jack and quinn are watching all happy bc their baby brother is in love 🥺

Quinn and Jack Watching Luke Fall in Love

UMICH Game

Jack and Quinn are in the stands, taking a rare break from their own schedules to watch Luke finish his practice. The arena is nearly empty, and the sounds of skates slicing the ice echo through the quiet. Jack, scrolling through his phone, almost misses it until he glances up and notices you standing near the rink entrance, bundled up in an oversized team hoodie.

As soon as Luke spots you, his entire face softens. He skates over, and there’s a look in his eyes that neither Jack nor Quinn has ever seen before. Luke slows as he reaches the boards, his hand raising in a small wave, shy and almost hesitant, but you beam at him in return. With a little laugh, Luke leans forward, pressing his helmet against the glass to get closer to you. You place a hand on the glass where his face is, as if you could touch him through the barrier, and Luke closes his eyes for a second, savoring the moment.

Jack nudges Quinn, gesturing toward the scene unfolding below. They share a look of mild surprise and then watch as Luke stays by the glass longer than any other player would. There’s a small smile playing on his lips as he mouths, “Hi, beautiful,” in a tone so soft that only you can read it. Jack and Quinn exchange smirks. They’d known Luke was seeing someone, but this? This was a side of their little brother they hadn’t seen before—tender, almost vulnerable. When Luke finally skates off, there’s a brightness in his eyes, a lightness to his stride.

Jack turns to Quinn, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Our boy is absolutely whipped.”

Quinn grins, a spark of pride mixing with nostalgia. “Good for him. He deserves it.”

Midnight Moments at the Lake House

It’s late, well past midnight, and the Hughes brothers are back at their family’s lake house for the summer. Quinn steps outside, breathing in the crisp night air and expecting only silence, but then he spots two figures on the porch swing. Luke is sitting beside you, his arm around your shoulders, the two of you tucked into a shared blanket that spills over onto the floorboards.

Quinn pauses, taking in the scene. You’re both deep in conversation, voices so low they’re practically whispers. Luke is tracing small, absentminded circles on your arm, his gaze fixed on you as if nothing else in the world matters. There’s a gentleness to him that catches Quinn off guard. He’s seen Luke compete fiercely on the ice, fight hard battles with grit and determination, but this softness is new.

You say something, and Luke’s face breaks into a warm, quiet laugh. He leans over, pressing his lips to your temple with a tenderness that nearly makes Quinn turn away, feeling like he’s intruding on a private moment. But he lingers, watching as you tuck a strand of hair behind Luke’s ear, laughing softly at the way it falls back again.

For Quinn, it’s a revelation. Luke, the brother he’d always seen as a bit guarded, as someone who buried his emotions on the ice, has opened his heart in a way he didn’t expect. It fills Quinn with a quiet pride and a profound relief. He’s glad Luke has someone who sees him as he truly is, beyond the hockey player and the brother.

Kitchen Confessions

One summer afternoon, Jack is wandering around the house, rummaging through the kitchen for a snack, when he hears the sound of laughter—a warm, soft kind of laughter that he immediately recognizes as Luke’s. Curious, Jack follows the sound and peeks around the corner.

You’re standing on tiptoe, stretching to reach something on the top shelf, and before Jack can even think to offer help, Luke is already there. Without a word, he reaches up, grabs the item you were straining for, and places it in your hands. But instead of stepping back, he stays close, his arms lingering around you.

“Why do you always try to reach things you can’t grab?” he teases softly, the affection in his tone unmistakable.

You roll your eyes playfully, but there’s a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Because I know my giant of a boyfriend will help me,” you reply, poking him gently in the ribs.

Luke’s laugh is quiet, and Jack watches as his brother’s expression softens even more. Luke brings a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. “You know you’re my favorite part of any day, right?” he murmurs, his voice so soft Jack barely catches it.

Jack quickly backs out of the kitchen before either of you notices him, grinning to himself. Seeing Luke that open and unguarded makes Jack’s heart swell with a mixture of pride and happiness. Luke is completely gone for you, and it’s a beautiful thing to witness.

Family Game Night Revelation

Family game nights at the Hughes’ lake house are legendary, and tonight is no different. After hours of Monopoly, charades, and good-natured bickering, everyone is winding down, and the group sprawls across the living room in various states of exhaustion. You’re beside Luke on the floor, leaning into his shoulder, half-asleep as the last remnants of a card game lie forgotten in front of you.

Jack notices the way Luke keeps his arm around you, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your shoulder, and how he periodically checks on you, as if making sure you’re comfortable. Quinn, lying on the couch across from them, catches Jack’s eye and raises his eyebrows in quiet amusement.

Then, as you drift off fully, Luke gently adjusts the blanket around you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. He gazes down at you with an expression so openly affectionate that it nearly takes Jack and Quinn by surprise. They exchange another look, this one filled with understanding. Their baby brother, who used to roll his eyes at the mention of romance, is absolutely, irrevocably in love.

Jack reaches over, patting Quinn on the arm with a grin. “I think we’ve officially lost him,” he whispers, a hint of teasing in his voice.

Quinn just nods, smiling back. “I’m okay with that.”

They both watch as Luke, oblivious to their observation, presses a kiss to your forehead. It’s a quiet moment, unremarkable to anyone else, but to Jack and Quinn, it’s confirmation that their little brother is happy—genuinely, deeply happy.

Big Brother Heart-to-Heart

One evening, Quinn and Luke are sitting alone on the dock, looking out over the water. The silence between them is comfortable, filled only by the sound of crickets and the occasional splash from the lake. Quinn’s tempted to ask, but he waits, giving Luke time to bring it up if he wants to.

Eventually, Quinn turns to him, unable to hold back his smile. “So…she makes you happy?”

Luke’s cheeks flush, but he doesn’t try to hide it. Instead, he nods, a soft, almost shy smile breaking over his face. “More than anything,” he admits, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Quinn feels a swell of pride and nostalgia. He’s watched Luke grow up, through all the awkward teenage years, the battles on the ice, and the triumphs and failures that shaped him. But watching Luke find someone who brings out this side of him—this happiness that no amount of hockey victories could match—is something else entirely.

Reaching over, Quinn claps a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Good,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “You deserve it, Luke. We’re all so damn proud of you.”

They sit in silence again, both knowing that these moments—simple, quiet, and full of unspoken love—are the ones that matter most. Quinn knows he’ll look back on this, the night he saw his baby brother truly in love, as one of the best memories he’s ever had.

[streetlamp-amber]

blanket fort for the soul

dick grayson x batmom!reader

word count: 2.2k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: mention of death, family fluff <3 NOTES: dick grayson my little baby i love you so so much you deserve endless happiness and to be protected from all evil

You were just coming back from your lunch break with two of your coworkers when you received a call from Gotham Academy asking you to come pick up Dick as soon as possible. It didn’t take more than a minute after the call ended for you to inform your boss you were cutting your day of work short today, to grab your black trench coat and bag and to sit behind the wheel of your car, on your way to the private school.

Dick Grayson had entered your lives a month and a half ago, after Bruce took you on a date to Haley’s Circus where the young boy’s parents died tragically in front of your eyes. When you were informed that their child didn't have any family to care for him and would end up in the foster system, you didn't even have to try to convince your husband to begin the process to become his foster parents. It had been two weeks since Dick started living with you in the manor and though he was slowly warming up to Bruce, Alfred and you, he was still plagued with nightmares and a deep sadness about the loss of his family.

“What happened?” You asked the receptionist in a hurry once you arrived at the school. You didn't need to introduce yourself or mention to the woman behind the desk that you were Dick’s ward, perks of being married to Bruce Wayne.

“Ah, Mrs. Wayne!” The headmaster, a bald fifty-something white man with round glasses that you should probably try to remember his name, exclaimed as he appeared in the doorway leading to his office. “Please, follow me.”

You walked around the receptionist’s desk and entered the headmaster’s office, where a small boy with dark hair hung his head low. You could sense the sadness emanating from him the second you stepped in the room. You ignored the principal’s invitation to take a seat in the chair in front of his desk to instead crouch down in front of Dick.

“Dick, sweetie, are you okay?” You asked him worriedly. You rested your hands on his knees and lowered your head to try to catch his eyes.

The young boy shook his head ‘no’ before lunging onto you, wrapping his thin arms around your neck as he wept on your shoulder. You were surprised at first, Dick wasn’t comfortable enough with you and Bruce to do more than holding your hands when outside of the house, but you recovered from the shock in less than a second.

“Oh, bubs,” you whispered in a sigh, hugging him close to you and rubbing your right hand up and down his back in a comforting way as sobs shook his small body.

“He’s been like this since the beginning of the students’ lunch break,” the headmaster sympathetically informed you. “The lunch supervisors tried to comfort him but it was to no avail, so we called you.”

You turned your head to face the older man, noticing at the same time the plaque on his desk that read ‘Principal Richardson’. “You did the right thing,” you told him.

“Given the circumstances, it is more than alright if Mr. Grayson wants to go home for the afternoon,” Mr. Richardson offered.

“Do you want to go back to the manor?” You whispered the question in Dick’s ear and he nodded his head ‘yes’.

You rose up from your crouching position, Dick still hanging onto you tight like you were his lifeboat. Thank God he was a little frail since his parents’ death or you wouldn’t be able to carry the eight year old in your arms right now.

“Thank you, Mr. Richardson,” you thanked the principal and he accompanied you out of the school where one of the lunch supervisors waited at the door with Dick’s school bag and lunchbox.

You sat Dick down in his booster car seat – he was still a little too small to sit without one – and put his bags in the seat next to him before closing the door behind you.

“Please send our salutations to Mr. Wayne,” the principal told you and you shyly smiled, nodding your head one time as you sat down in the driver’s seat.

The ride back to the manor was quiet except for Dick’s sniffles as he continued crying. It broke your heart that you couldn’t just take all of his pain away. Both you and Bruce had lost your parents when you were kids, you understood the grief Dick was in just like you knew that only time will heal him.

Once you arrived home, Alfred came down the stairs to grab your bags while you carried Dick, who was back to latching onto you like a koala, in the house. You kicked off your high heels after walking through the front door and went straight to Dick’s room on the second floor.

“Let’s get you out of that uniform, how’s that sound bubs?” You softly asked him once in his bedroom.

“Okay,” Dick murmured, letting go of your neck to rub the tears away from his eyes and his cheeks.

You sat him down on his bed and turned to his drawer to pull out a pair of pyjamas. You then helped him change his clothes and once he was ready, with Zitka his elephant plushie tucked under his arm, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of his room.

“Can we make hot cocoa, please?” He looked up at you with his big blue eyes, the colour eerily the same as Bruce’s, and you simply couldn’t say no to them. Not before, not now and definitely not ever.

“Of course, bubs,” you said, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

You both made your way to the kitchen, where Alfred was doing an inventory of the dry food in the cupboards.

“Mrs. Y/N, Master Dick, can I help you with something?” He politely asked you.

“Pretend like we’re not here Alfred,” you told the butler as you helped Dick sit on the kitchen island. “We’re making hot cocoa. Do you want some?”

“You know I would never refuse a cup of your famous hot cocoa, Mrs. Y/N,” Alfred lightheartedly said and the two of you broke down in small chuckles.

“Should we also leave some for Bruce when he gets home?” You asked Dick who was now eye levelled with you from where he was perched on the kitchen island.

The little boy nodded his head ‘yes’ and you set up everything you needed to make the warm beverage, along with four coffee mugs. Dick helped you and in a matter of ten minutes, your drinks were ready.

“Come with me,” you whispered to Dick as you helped him get down from the kitchen island counter. “I have an idea of how to pass time while we wait for the hot cocoa to cool down a little.”

Dick held your hand as you made your way to the living room with the television and the comfy couches (because of course Wayne Manor had more than one living room, including ones that were more formal for the balls and galas you hosted).

“You wanna know what my brother and I used to do when one of us was feeling down?” You looked down at the small boy. He nodded his head for you to continue. “We built the biggest blanket forts that could ever be built. But I think with all the materials we have here, we can build an even bigger one. Are you in?”

You were slowly succeeding at making Dick feel better after the little episode at lunch. Grief comes and goes in waves, and his loss was still very recent. You just wanted to be there for him when the pain hits him.

Dick nodded his head, a little more excitedly this time, and the two of you set off to start building a giant blanket fort using the couch mattresses, throw pillows and blankets stored in the room. You were hanging a blanket that would be the roof while Dick held up the mattresses when Alfred brought your cups of hot cocoa to the living room, the drinks now topped with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. You thanked the butler and he smiled at you before he went back to the kitchen to complete his inventory, sipping his beverage along the way.

“Are you comfortable in there?” You asked Dick after a moment from the entrance of the blanket fort. He had been in charge of placing the pillows and blankets inside while you made sure the structure was stable.

“Mhm,” he positively hummed in response.

“Alright, I’m gonna give you our cups of hot cocoa then I’m gonna come in with the laptop and we can watch whatever you want,” you told him.

“Okay,” Dick said, his mood lighter.

Once the two of you were settled in the fort with your mugs, you opened the living room laptop (because of course you and Bruce had more than two laptops) and put it down between the two of you.

“So, what are we watching?” You looked at the dark haired boy to your right, waiting for his answer.

He shrugged his shoulders while drinking more of your hot cocoa. Yeah, he was gonna be a ball full of energy until way past his bedtime, but he deserved something fun and comforting. If anything, Bruce could train with him to tire him out once he was back home from work.

“Remember those songs we were listening to on the drive back from Bruce’s office last week?” You tried to jog his memory up to when you blasted Abba’s greatest hits after his first visit to Wayne Tower. You kept stealing glances in the rear view mirror the whole ride, smiling every time you saw Dick bopping his head along to the music.

The little boy nodded his head.

“Well, they made a movie where the characters are on a Greek island and sing the songs the whole time. Wanna watch that?”

Dick shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.”

You grabbed the laptop and put it in your lap as you went on Netflix and searched for Mamma Mia!. Dick took the opportunity to scoot closer to you, his small body curling around your torso, and you smiled at the fact that he was more trusting and comfortable with you.

When Bruce arrived back home, he came to a stop in front of the living room with the television in it that he was only planning on passing by while he made his way towards the staircase to get to your shared bedroom. The room was disordered and more loud than it usually was at this time of the day, which is what got his attention away from his cellphone. He loosened his tie, feeling more relaxed now that his day of work as ‘Bruce Wayne, CEO’ was over, and approached the blanket fort in the middle of the room.

“What is going on in here?” He crouched down and peaked his head inside the fort.

“So when you’re near me darling, can’t you hear me? S.O.S.,” you sang instead of answering him, index finger pointing in your husband’s direction.

Bruce sighed and rolled his eyes. “You roped him into watching Mamma Mia?” He asked with a hint of a smile.

“I didn’t rope him in,” you scoffed over Pierce Brosnan’s horrible singing. “I suggested it and Dick agreed to watch it,” you sweetly grinned at Bruce.

Dick, who was still curled against you, one arm looped with yours while the other held tight onto his elephant plushie, nodded his head to back up your claim.

Bruce then noticed the two now empty mugs, clear traces of hot cocoa on them. “Did you make hot cocoa?” He perked up, now fully smiling.

“You got this little man to thank,” you pointed to Dick. “We made a cup for you, just heat it in the microwave then you can join us.”

“I’ll be right back,” Bruce said and jogged to the kitchen where a cup of your famous hot cocoa was indeed waiting for him. He was back in the living room two minutes later, shoes and blazer off, top buttons of his shirt undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, ready to relax with his family.

He handed you his cup of hot cocoa for you to hold while he made his way in the blanket fort and settled on your left since the laptop was still in your lap, hence putting you in the middle. Once next to you, Bruce pecked your lips to greet you and when Dick glanced up at him, the look in his eyes wondering if he would also receive some kind of greeting, your husband affectionately ruffled his dark hair before leaning over you to plant a kiss of the top of the little boy’s head.

Bruce then made himself comfortable, also cuddling onto you, and put his head on your shoulder, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips as he did so. You handed him his mug back and the three of you continued watching Mamma Mia!, much to your happiness.

Enveloped in the warmth of your two boys squishing you from both sides, you couldn’t fight off the smile that pulled on your lips. Laying under your blanket fort with your little family, it was moments like this one that made everything else worth it.

[writing-for-marvel]

Right Here, Waiting (2)

Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Curvy!Fem!Reader

< < PART 1

Summary: While out with Bucky’s friends for Sam’s birthday, someone makes a rude comment about your body, leading Bucky to prove just how beautiful he thinks you are.

Prompt: “Hey. Pick on someone your own size.” for @avengers-assemble-bingo’s 108th Birthday Celebration

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the AU, TRIGGER WARNING internal monologue references reader having issues with weight & eating, a man commenting on readers appearance/body in a negative and unprovoked way, VERY insecure reader, slight angst with belief of unrequited love, idiots in love who finally stop being so oblivious!

Word count: 4.3k

A/N: so I was triple dared by @intrepidacious to write more for these two and who am I to break the sacred rules of triple dares? They do deserve their happy ending 🩵 banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

You don’t want to be here. Not really.

Even though you’ve got Nat by your side and you’re essentially invisible as a group of Bucky’s mates celebrate his best friend’s birthday, there’s something about being in a new part of town, and with a group of people you don’t know that well, which makes you feel on edge.

But the reason you came tonight is staring at you with warm, sparkling blue eyes, and a smile that calms the raging nerves in your stomach.

“You having a good time?”

“I am now that you’re here.” You say playfully, and you hear Nat scoff lightly from beside you.

He looks heavenly, as if a statue of a Greek god was animated to life, donning a shirt which perfectly matches the colour of his irises, which shows off his bulging biceps, and just enough length to his perfectly styled hair which makes you want to run your fingers through it.

It really should be a crime to walk around looking so good that he draws the stare of every woman within a ten meter radius, head held high like he knows it too.

But while everyone else has their eyes on him, whispering about how gorgeous he is, Bucky’s looking at you, making your stomach somersault. And then the stunning smile he flashes just for you has you melting into a puddle.

Surely there’s no way he can’t see the effect he has on you, how you become a giggling fool in his presence. But that just serves as a reminder that after three months living together and him not making a move, he is very clearly not interested in you like that.

“I shouldn’t have taken so long to come find you then.” You know he’s only joking, but in reality you and Nat have barely had the time to wish Sam a happy birthday and set yourself up at one of the high top tables. Bucky hasn’t exactly wasted any time in coming to talk to you.

“Well it would have been rude of you not to say hello to the birthday boy first.”

“Ahh I see enough of that punk anyway.” He jests, as if he also doesn’t see you every single day at your shared apartment, but you don’t mention that to him.

You notice Nat walking over by to corner of the room in a group with the man of the hour, not even bothering to announce her departure unlike last weekend at your local bar with her attempt to push you and Bucky together.

Somehow being alone with him now, even though it’s a regular occurrence back in your apartment, fills your stomach with churning anxiety. Perhaps it’s the expectation that Nat believes something will happen between the two of you, even though you’re well aware that’s a physical impossibility.

“Thanks for coming tonight, I know you don’t know Sam all that well yet and would probably prefer to be snuggled under a blanket at home reading, but I want you to meet my friends. And I want them to meet the people who are important to me too.”

The implication that you are a prominent person in Bucky’s life gives life to butterflies in your tummy. Even though you’re sure the intention of his words are that you’ve become good friends while living together, it’s ammunition your mind can use to assemble a pipe dream that you serve a much more significant role in your roommate’s life.

“If they’re important to you, then they’re important to me too.” Silly boy doesn’t know you’d do absolutely anything for him, including facing your social anxiety of meeting new people if it means you get to see him happy.

“Well you’re the most important.”

It’s when he says things like this, accompanied with that earnestly affectionate smile, that hope builds brick by brick in your chest - you don’t say that to someone who’s just a friend, right?

But if he somehow did feel that way about you, ignoring all the reasons why someone as attractive and charming as him could do so much better than you, then why had he not made a move?

You come to the same conclusion you always do when Bucky comes out with these overly sweet statements - he’s referring to you as being very good friends. Roommates who would consider each other family.

Regardless, with this small sentence he’s rendered you utterly speechless, your mouth so dry and brings a ferocious heat to your cheeks that you couldn’t contribute to conversation even if you had to.

There’s a silence which passes between you, not awkward like either of you are waiting for the other to come up with some ridiculous small talk, but content, that even in a room packed with people to speak to you’re happy just being in each other's presence, words aren’t needed.

“Oh, how rude of me, you don’t have a drink - you want your usual?” You had never expected him to buy you a drink, but it warms your heart how considerate he is, that he takes the initiative to make it his priority even when it arguably doesn’t affect him.

“Yes please.” You manage to mutter out.

The cheeky wink he shoots you before heading up to the bar only further contributing to you melting into a puddle on the floor. He could do anything and have you in a trance, but when it’s small, doting actions reserved solely for you like this, that have your heart leaping out of your chest.

“So… when’s the wedding?” Nat comments, sidling up to you, however it doesn’t distract you from watching Bucky walk away, admiring his strapping, muscular back and his ass that looks divine.

It’s when you turn to look at your best friend, a brazen sparkle in her eye, do you miss the way Bucky longingly looks back at you from the bar.

That relentless hope you’re continually trying to shake returns, inflating in your chest when she talks in a way that your romance with Bucky is inevitable, when you spend every waking second actively pulling yourself back to reality on earth from dreaming on cloud nine.

“Nat you know he doesn’t like me like that.” You repeat for what feels like the millionth time.

“I beg to differ, you’d been here less than two minutes before he approached you.” The gleam in her eye has become a familiar one, that screams ‘told you so’, as if this was conclusive evidence.

“He knows we don’t know a lot of people here and just wanted to make sure we felt comfortable. That’s what friends do.” At least that’s what you are telling yourself to help suppress any irrational wish your brain could conjure at the reasoning why Bucky sought you out so quickly after your arrival.

“Well he only asked you didn’t he? It was like I was invisible to him.”

“He just knows me better, that's all, we do live together you know.” Is how you justify his behaviour, but you can tell Nat isn’t having a bar of it with the cynical look she shoots at you.

“You keep telling yourself that sweetie. That boy has it bad for you, but you silly kids will work it out eventually.” She says with a certainty that puzzles you, as if there is no question that you and Bucky are destined to end up together. She flashes a quick smile before affectionately patting your hand and making her way up to the bar.

There’s a moment where you’re left alone, pondering Nat’s words and if there is any truth to them - your best friend is honest to a fault, and isn’t the type to blatantly lie to you to spare your feelings. Perhaps there’s something she can see that you can’t, or won’t let yourself notice.

The buoyant hope you always try pushing down floats in your stomach and for once you revel in the small possibility that perhaps you’ve been wrong all along about Bucky. As unlikely as it is, maybe your feelings aren’t completely unrequited.

You feel someone next to you before you hear them speak, a voice that is unfamiliar and which sends a tense vexation shivering down your spine.

“That little redhead friend of yours is gorgeous, think you could introduce me?” It’s not the first time a stranger has approached you interested in Nat. She’s beautiful, slim and wears dresses that flaunt her toned figure, but it nevertheless causes an ache deep in your chest that you're never the person the man approaching you is attracted to.

Just once it would be nice to be the woman they notice, the one lusted after.

“She’s not interested.” You don’t even have to look at the man to know Nat wouldn’t be interested in someone who didn’t have the guts to approach her directly.

You hope that response is enough to send the man on his way, but your experience tells you men with an ego the size of a Mount Everest don’t give up so easily when they have a gorgeous woman in their sights.

“C’mon, don’t be butt hurt that no one’s interested in you. Attractive people deserve other attractive people.”

His words, laced with so much spite, feel like a kick to the teeth. Even though he’s a nobody, someone who will disappear into the masses that make up this enormous city, it’s just another reminder that not a single person in this populous metropolis wants you, in particular the one person who owns your heart and sleeps in the next room.

“You really think that’s gonna make me more likely to help you out?” You turn to finally look at the man, and as attractive as he is, there is a pretentious air to him, a conceited smirk you’d love to smack off his face. It’s a face of a man that has never been told ‘no’ before in his life. “Fuck off.”

“Don’t be a bitter bitch about it.”

Without you realising, Bucky had noticed you looking uncomfortable in conversation with this repulsive man, and stalked across the entire length of the room, forgetting about your drinks at the bar, to come to your aid.

“Hey mate, how about you pick on someone your own size huh?” Bucky looks dauntingly large as he steps up to face the man, at least a head taller than him with broad shoulders that make the other guy look like a lanky schoolboy in comparison.

In contrast to how intimidating Bucky looks, his touch is gentle as he herds you behind him protectively.

“Why? Because the whore is so much bigger than everyone else here.”

His mocking tone cuts through you like a sword, hollowing out your insides. You sense all eyes in the room turn to you, and you shrivel into yourself in juxtaposition to how Bucky shines when the centre of attention.

It feels like the air in the room has been suctioned out, your lungs and throat burning from the absence of oxygen, or maybe it’s just your lack of will to take a breath, wanting the world to engulf you and your existence to end right here.

It’s hard enough to live with the understanding of how much bigger you are than every other person in the room when it is etched into your frontal lobe so that you are reminded of it every passing second, but for someone else to actually express that notion aloud, for all the terrible thoughts you believe about yourself to be confirmed by a stranger who only needs to have seen you once in your life to recognise this about you, is enough for you to start decaying from the inside out.

It’s not just you who thinks that, now every single person in the bar is fully aware of how much physical space you’re taking up, how much weight you carry on your distinctly pudgy stomach, around your jawline which is soft unlike Bucky’s sharp mandible, how your thighs rub together when you walk, not having a gap between them as Nat does.

“What the fuck did you just say?” You barely recognise the voice as Bucky’s, he practically growls at the man, picking him up by the shirt front and slamming him into the wall behind you.

Bucky’s positive he’s never had rage flow through his veins like this before, never genuinely wanted to snap someone’s neck and step over their lifeless body until this very second. Anyone who hurts you deserves an even worse fate than that.

The bastard then has the gall to mumble out ‘it was just a joke’ as he raises his hands in defence, as if he wasn’t the piece of shit to provoke this entire confrontation.

“I dare you to say that again and see where it gets you.” Bucky longs to punch his fist through this man’s nose, the only reason currently stopping him is a potential assault charge, but then he hears you sniffling behind him and he wants to throw caution to the wind.

“Barnes, you need to go after her.” Natasha implores, interrupting the intense staring match between the two men and saving Bucky from spending the night in a jail cell. The mention of you is the only distraction which spares this man’s face from being rearranged.

Bucky practically throws the guy on the ground, searching for you in the sea of patrons staring at the commotion, before chasing after you as if his life depends on it - because it does, you are the reason his heart beats just that little bit quicker every morning at the prospect of seeing you curled up in your armchair, having fallen asleep reading one of your books and him needing to gently wake you from your slumber; you are the reason he stops off at the store on his way home from work and spends half an hour at the grocery store most days, to ensure the pantry is fully stocked with your favourite snacks; you are the reason he has not brought a single woman back to his apartment since moving in, no one on the face of this earth could could make him feel the way you do, turn him on naked in his bed how you do dancing around the kitchen in your pyjamas.

He loves you. And his whole world is crashing down around him knowing you’re in any type of pain.

“Sunrise, please.” You're not sure what he’s pleading for exactly, but he doesn’t ask again once you stop scurrying out of the bar. He reaches for you when the fresh air outside hits your face with a crispness that makes your tears sting more than they had inside, tugging on your shoulder for you to turn around and face him.

The completely shattered way you look back at him, with teary eyes that are usually so full of wonder and vivacity, shreds Bucky’s heart into so many pieces he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to put it back together again.

He’s going to kill that man for making you feel like a fragment of the beautiful person he has come to adore.

Unintelligible words fall from your lips but you don’t have the brain capacity to articulate yourself better when your mind is rerouting all your thoughts to one central nucleus - how disgustingly large you are.

Typically you’d be mortified about Bucky seeing you in such a distressed state, because not only are you huge, you must also look revoltingly unattractive with tears flowing down your cheeks, ruining your makeup, and snot dripping from your nose.

But you know Bucky’s arms, the embrace of the man you love, is also the only cure for the malignant disease which has now infected your mind, so you put up no defence to him pulling you in for a secure, reassuring hug.

Bucky’s chest, smelling strongly of cinnamon, is the safest place you’ve ever known. Even though you’re still consumed by what was said back inside the bar, Bucky holds you so tightly that you have no doubt that he will comfort you through the worst of it without him needing to say so.

It’s a blur of tears, head throbbing, chest aching and Bucky’s soft yet vigilant hands as you make your way home. He leads you into a cab, buckling your seatbelt for you, him taking the middle seat so you can rest your head on his shoulder, his calloused hand resting on your thigh, soothingly rubbing gentle circles with his thumb over your soft skin.

Not a single word is spoken on your journey, comfortable with the solace his presence brings you, and finally feeling secure being miles away from the environment that led you to feeling as giant as an elephant trapped in a zoo enclosure with mice.

Bucky’s fingers interlace with yours as he leads you up to your apartment, the feel of his large hand engulfing yours eases the feeling of taking up too much space in the world. Even though you’re much wider than him in size, there are parts of your tall roommate that somehow miraculously still make you feel smaller than him.

His keys get thrown on the hall table with a clang. The familiar environment brings you peace, even if Bucky holding your hand is a new sensation which has nervousness prickling your stomach.

He sits on your couch, the one you’ve sat on many a lonely night before you even knew Bucky, his arms outstretched in a way which asks you to curl up on him in a hug.

“No, Bucky I’ll crush you.”

His heart cleaves in two with just how defeated your small voice is. It physically hurts him that you think of yourself like that and not as the most beautiful, voluptuous goddess that he knows you are.

“You’re not gonna crush me. Now c’mere.” His voice is soft but his hands are unyielding as he practically picks you up and deposits you in his lap, not taking no for an answer.

His strong arms snake around you, large hands resting on a pocket of fat on your waist that has always plagued your insecurities, but Bucky holds you tenderly, almost lovingly, and the self doubt slips from your mind and all you can focus on is how close you are to him.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers with a kiss to your temple. It almost sounds like he actually believes it - but your mind simply cannot accept that as fact, especially not after the humiliation surging through you from the strangers taunt earlier.

“Bucky, you don’t have to lie.”

“Sunrise, I’m not lying.” He retorts almost instantly, not wanting to allow any time for doubt to creep into your mind.

“You’re my roommate, you can’t very well call me an ugly pig, which is exactly what I am.”

Bucky so badly wants you to be able to see yourself the way he sees you, how vibrant his life becomes when you so much as walk into a room, how all his anxieties fade to nonexistence when you smile at him.

How you are everything he has ever dreamed of.

You sleep one very thin wall away, and all he can ever think of as he falls asleep on his own every night is if you are in the next room thinking of him too, wishing that your dreams will be consumed by him as his are by you.

“Stop. Please stop putting yourself down. You are gorgeous, stunning, and so much more than just my roommate.” He says sincerely, wiping away a stray tear as it trickles over the apple of your cheek. “You are my Sunrise, the stunning star at the centre of my universe that lights up my entire life.”

Never in a million years did you imagine these words coming out of Bucky Barnes’ mouth. You stare at him, jaw slack in utter shock, waiting for the moment where he takes it all back or to clarify that you’ve misinterpreted the intention and in fact he really means that you’re good friends, just very good friends.

This must be your hopeful heart overreacting after such an upsetting day, because surely he cannot actually think of you as more than that.

“It hurts me that you can’t see how impossibly beautiful you are, how you’re the most stunning woman everywhere you go, how I can’t take my eyes off you even for a minute whether it’s lazing around here in your pyjamas or all dolled up for a night out. You will always be the most beautiful woman in any room to me.”

Your chest feels like it’s about to explode any second with how much warmth is ballooning in your lungs. This isn’t happening. Surely you bumped your head getting out of the cab and this is all just a dream your mind has concocted to heal from the anguish sustained earlier.

“You can’t possibly mean that.” You shake your head, attempting to pull yourself out of the hallucination your brain is composing.

Bucky's eyes flit down to your lips, slightly chapped and dehydrated from crying your eyes out, but when they return to your gaze again, there’s a palpable desperation which quivers in his pupils.

“My whole fucking world comes to a standstill when you enter a room and like a magnet I can’t help but be drawn to you. You make my heart beat out of my chest just by smiling at me. There is not a day where I don’t wish to be back home here with you, where it’s just the two of us and the world outside holds no consequence because you’re all I’ve ever needed, all I’ve ever wanted. Can you really not see how powerful the hold you have over me is?”

There should be no doubt, given his confession, how much significance you have in Bucky’s heart, and yet you’re in disbelief, utter shock, unable to truly comprehend why he cares for you in such a way, when there are so many other women who are hotter, skinnier, funnier than you.

If this was written in one of the thousands of romance novels you’ve read, you wouldn’t hesitate to believe how much love the protagonists have for one another, but because it’s happening to you, that you are the heroine of this story, your mind is conditioned to reject the premise altogether.

“Bucky…” You mumble, your mind is spinning too much to form a coherent thought, let alone articulating just how consequential your feelings for the man whose lap you're sitting in are.

“Even if you don’t feel the same way, I need you to know how beautiful you are to me.” And that’s when your brain kicks into gear - you cannot stand any insinuation that your feelings for your roommate are simply platonic, and not the all consuming, devoted love that fills your heart with as much sunshine as on a cloudless summer day.

Especially not after his admission.

“Not feel the same? Bucky, I’ve been in love with you since you mov-”

At the mention of the word ‘love’ Bucky pulls your face close with a hand on either side of your face, and kisses you so forcefully the rest of your sentence is muffled and completely forgotten about.

You haven’t kissed someone in such a long time, and your stomach prickles with nerves as you frantically try remembering the movements you’re meant to make with your lips, where your tongue should be, that you should close your eyes. But as long as it has been, you’re sure the sparks you feel as his warm lips caress yours is because it is James Barnes kissing you, and not just anyone.

He smells and tastes divine, like sweet honey and sharp cinnamon, his lips soft as pillows that move hungrily against yours, like he can’t get enough of you either, and when he moans into your mouth you swear you see the gates of heaven.

When his tongue slips into your mouth, the realisation hits you square in the chest that you’re kissing your Bucky, the man who sleeps in the adjacent room, who cooks you breakfast shirtless in your kitchen, who always thinks to bring home your favourite food after a long day at work where he could arguably only want to think about himself.

The man you love. And who reciprocates that ardent feeling.

The awareness that it’s him knocks all the breath from your lungs and you need to come up for air much sooner than you would have liked, but Bucky gazes up at you with that familiar warmth that you never would have believed was something more than just friendship, but now seems like it was the clue all along that the two of you were never just roommates.

“You love me, huh?” He says in such a playfully taunting tone that makes you smile.

“Yeah… but I’m your Sunrise aren’t I?”

“That you are. My beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous. Sexy. Perfect Sunrise.” Bucky places sweet kisses to your lips between each adjective, each one lasting a little longer than the previous. “I love you too.”

Maybe you can’t understand why Bucky feels this way about you when there are far more attractive people in the world. But maybe that doesn’t matter.

Perhaps your love for him is part of what makes you the most beautiful person in the world in his eyes, the way his love for you is why you find him the most alluring man you have ever met. And that will forever be enough for you.

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[rafes-slut]

"Say You Forgive Me"

Summary: after Rafe yelled at you earlier, you’re giving him the silent treatment, determined to stay mad. But Rafe is relentless, trying everything to get you to forgive him. He slowly breaks down your walls with soft apologies and teasing touches, but when that doesn’t work, he takes things further, using pleasure to get through to you.

The tension between you and Rafe had been thick ever since this morning when he had yelled at you—angry, frustrated, his voice sharp and cutting in a way that left an ache in your chest. He had been impatient over something insignificant, but his tone had struck a nerve, and you hadn’t spoken to him since.

Now, you sat curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, eyes locked on the screen in front of you. You weren’t even paying attention to the movie, but you refused to let him know that. Rafe sat beside you, restless, sighing every few minutes, shifting in his seat, trying to get you to acknowledge him.

“Baby…” he finally broke the silence, his voice softer now, laced with guilt. When you didn’t respond, he tried again. “Come on, you’re really gonna ignore me all night?”

You didn’t move, didn’t spare him even the slightest glance.

Rafe groaned under his breath, running a hand through his hair before scooting closer, his thigh pressing against yours. Still, you refused to react.

“I didn’t mean to yell,” he murmured, his fingers brushing lightly over your arm, but you pulled it away as if his touch burned. His lips pressed together in frustration. “Okay, okay, I deserved that.”

A heavy silence filled the room again. The movie’s background noise was the only sound between you, but Rafe wasn’t giving up.

His hand found its way onto your thigh, his fingertips tracing slow, delicate patterns over your bare skin. You tensed at the touch but kept your face neutral, pretending not to notice.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice dipping lower, laced with something almost pleading. His fingers trailed higher, warm against your skin. “Didn’t mean to snap at you. I was being an asshole.”

You still didn’t answer.

Rafe huffed softly, but instead of pulling away, he doubled down. His palm pressed more firmly against your thigh, his fingers teasing just under the hem of your shorts. His touch was featherlight, teasing, skating dangerously close to where he knew you were most sensitive.

You swallowed, keeping your eyes trained on the screen, determined not to react.

But then his hand slipped further between your legs, his knuckles brushing over the thin fabric of your shorts. His fingers pressed gently, cupping you, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that sent heat rushing through your body.

“Baby, don’t do this,” he murmured, leaning closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Don’t ignore me like this. Let me make it up to you.”

Your breath hitched, but you clenched your jaw, refusing to give in so easily.

Rafe, though, wasn’t one to back down. His other hand found your chin, gently turning your face toward him. His blue eyes were heavy with sincerity—and something darker, something hungry.

“I hate when you ignore me,” he admitted, voice rough with frustration and desperation all at once. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, eyes flickering down to your mouth. “Let me fix it.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose, but before you could pull away, his fingers slipped beneath your waistband. The first brush of his fingertips against your bare skin sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’re mad at me,” Rafe whispered, dragging his fingers lower. “I get it. But you’re wet, baby.”

Your stomach clenched at his words, at the teasing smirk pulling at his lips. He knew exactly what he was doing, knew exactly how to unravel you.

You sucked in a sharp breath as he pressed his fingers against your clit, rubbing slow, lazy circles, each stroke sending heat curling in your belly. His other hand wrapped around your thigh, spreading you open just a little more.

“Still mad at me?” he asked, his tone cocky now, but still dripping with that soft, apologetic sweetness. His lips ghosted over your jaw, trailing soft kisses down your neck. “Or are you gonna let me make it up to you properly?”

You clenched your fists at your sides, torn between holding onto your stubbornness and giving in to the way his touch made your body melt.

His fingers slid lower, teasing at your entrance before pressing in just slightly, just enough to make you suck in a sharp breath.

“Rafe—”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” he murmured, swallowing your words with his mouth against yours, kissing you slow and deep as his fingers pushed inside, curling just right.

His kiss was slow and deep, yet dripping with desperation—like he was trying to steal your breath, like he needed you to forgive him in the only way he knew how. His fingers moved inside you, curling just right, dragging along that sensitive spot that made your thighs twitch.

You gasped against his lips, your body betraying you as your hips arched slightly, pressing into his touch. Rafe groaned, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were blown out, dark with lust, but there was something else too—something softer.

"That's it, baby," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your jaw, then another to the spot just beneath your ear. "Knew you couldn’t stay mad at me forever."

You wanted to say something, to remind him that you were still mad, that just because your body was weak for him didn’t mean you forgave him. But then he pushed his fingers deeper, his thumb rubbing firm, slow circles over your clit, and the words died in your throat.

Rafe smirked, leaning in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Still ignoring me?" he taunted, his voice a low rasp.

You clenched your jaw, refusing to answer, but your body was telling him everything he needed to know. Your thighs squeezed around his hand, your breaths were coming faster, your nails digging into the couch cushion.

He let out a soft chuckle, but there was a rough edge to it. His fingers pulled out of you, leaving you empty for a second before he slipped them beneath the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down in one swift motion.

"Lift your hips, baby," he murmured, and you hated how quickly you obeyed, lifting just enough for him to slide them off.

"Good girl," he praised, running his hands up your bare thighs, spreading them apart just enough to fit himself between them. He shifted, kneeling on the couch beside you, his hands gripping your hips as he leaned over you.

Your breath hitched as he slid his other hand back between your legs, his fingers teasing, dipping between your folds before pressing against your clit again, rubbing slow, teasing circles that had your stomach tightening.

His free hand traced up your side, pushing your shirt up, his fingers brushing over your bare skin before finding your breast, cupping it, squeezing just enough to make you arch into him.

"Rafe—"

"Say you forgive me," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours. His fingers moved faster, rubbing tight circles that made your body burn. "Say it, baby."

You clenched your teeth, determined not to give in so easily, but then he slipped two fingers inside you again, curling them just right, and your resolve shattered.

"Rafe—"

"Say it," he demanded, his lips trailing down your neck, sucking a mark into your skin as his fingers fucked into you, slow and deep.

Your breath came in short, shaky pants, your body trembling beneath him. You could feel the heat coiling tighter in your stomach, could feel yourself getting closer.

"Say it, and I'll make you come," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "C'mon, baby, tell me you forgive me."

You clenched your jaw, trying to hold on just a little longer, but then his thumb pressed harder against your clit, rubbing in fast, tight circles, and you broke.

"I— I forgive you," you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your back arching as pleasure crashed through you.

Rafe groaned, his lips crashing against yours as you trembled beneath him, his fingers never stopping, dragging out every last wave of pleasure until you were a mess beneath him.

When you finally caught your breath, he pulled back just enough to look at you, a smirk playing at his lips. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You narrowed your eyes at him, but you were too blissed out to be mad.

Rafe chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before whispering, "Now, be a good girl and take off my pants."

[the-winter-spider]

Deserve you | Drabble

Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: fluffffff

A/N: Heres the sweet one. 🫶🏻 debating on doing an angsty one lol Happy valentines day 💞

---

The first thing you notice when you wake up is warmth.

Not just the cozy kind from the blankets wrapped around you, but a warmth that settles deep in your chest, the kind that only comes from Bucky pressed up against your back, his arm draped lazily over your waist. The slow, steady rise and fall of his breath against your skin is hypnotic, anchoring you in the quiet, golden glow of early evening..

You both got back late or was it considered early from a stake out, not that it mattered.

Outside, the world is still and heavy with fresh snow, the soft hush of it settling against the windowsill. The setting sun filtering through the curtains casts everything in a muted glow, turning your shared space into something dreamlike, something sacred.

You shift slightly, and before you can get too far, a strong arm tightens around you, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Mmm, don’t move,” Bucky mumbles into your shoulder, his voice thick with sleep, gravelly in a way that makes something in your stomach flip.

A soft laugh escapes your lips as you lace your fingers through his, feeling the contrast of warmth and cool metal against your skin. “You say that every time.”

“‘Cause it’s true,” he grumbles. His lips brush against the nape of your neck, a lazy, featherlight kiss that lingers longer than necessary. His smile is slow and content against your skin.

It’s these moments that make your heart ache in the best way, the way he clings to you in the early hours, the sleepy, half-mumbled words that slip past his lips, the way he holds you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“You’re warm,” he murmurs, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

“You’re clingy,” you tease, though you don’t move away. You never do.

His grip tightens just slightly, as if in silent agreement. “’S’only ‘cause I love you.”

You feel those words settle inside you, low and deep, like they belong there. Like they were always meant to. No matter how many times he says it, it still sends a rush of warmth through your chest, still feels like something you’ll never get tired of hearing.

You roll over, finally facing him, and your fingers reach up to smooth the dark strands of hair away from his forehead. He looks utterly at peace like this, eyes still heavy-lidded with sleep, but there’s something else there too. Something softer. Something real.

“And I love you Bucky Barnes.”

“Can't believe that, never can.” His lips twitch into the laziest smile, the kind that makes your stomach flip, the kind he only ever gives you. His fingers trace slow, absentminded patterns along your spine, grounding himself in you, in this.

“Stay in bed with me,” he whispers, barely brushing his lips against yours, stealing the words from your mouth before you can say them first.

You pretend to hesitate, to consider it but you both know the answer is already yes.

Because there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than here, wrapped up in him.

And so, you stay.

His fingers trace gentle, meandering lines across your bare shoulder, his touch so impossibly light that it makes your skin hum. He’s watching you again, really watching you. Like he’s memorizing every detail, like he’s trying to commit you to memory just in case this moment vanishes.

There’s something unspoken in his gaze, something heavy beneath the softness.

Then, barely above a whisper “I never thought I could have this.”

Your breath catches.

The words slip out like a confession, like they’ve been sitting on his tongue for a long time, waiting for the right moment to break free. His fingers still against your skin, as if speaking them aloud makes them real.

“Bucky…”

His hand finds yours beneath the covers, his fingers lacing with yours like he’s afraid to let go. A sharp inhale, the kind that makes his chest rise and fall just a little too quickly.

“I spent so long thinking…” He swallows, eyes flickering downward, like he can’t quite bring himself to look at you when he says it. “Thinking I wasn’t meant for this.”

The words are careful, like they’re fragile, like he’s still afraid they might shatter in his hands.

“I always wanted this but after everything I knew, I felt like I wasn’t supposed to have this.” His voice is quiet but firm, raw in a way that makes your heart twist. “The lifetime with Hydra, the things I did… even after Steve got me out, I still felt like—” He exhales sharply through his nose, jaw tightening. “Like I didn’t deserve anything other than what I’d already been given.”

You shake your head instinctively, already about to argue, but before you can, he squeezes your hand.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice rough around the edges. “Let me finish.”

There’s no frustration, no sharpness, just quiet determination. He needs to get this out.

“You changed that for me.” His voice wavers just slightly, his fingers coming up to cradle your face, thumb sweeping along your cheekbone with a tenderness that nearly undoes you. “You make me feel like I deserve to be here. That I deserve more than just surviving. That I actually deserve you. That I deserve something even after everything that I—he did.”

His voice cracks, just a little.

And then, softer

“But I would endure all of that again in any lifetime if it meant I got to have this with you.”

The air in your lungs disappears.

A single tear slips down his cheek before he can stop it, and for a moment, he looks almost embarrassed like he’s not used to being this vulnerable, this open. But you reach up before he can turn away, brushing the tear away with your thumb, letting your fingers linger on the rough stubble of his jaw.

“Because you do deserve it, Bucky,” you whisper.

Your voice is steady, but the emotion behind it is anything but.

“You deserve all of this. To be happy. To be loved. To wake up in the morning and not feel like you have to fight to exist.” Your fingers tighten in his hair as you hold him closer. “You deserve to be here. With me.”

His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his blue eyes impossibly bright. But he doesn’t look away.

He won’t look away.

“I love you so much,” he breathes, voice barely above a whisper.

A tear slips free, rolling slowly down the bridge of his nose, and you don’t stop yourself from catching it with your lips as you press the softest, most reverent kiss to his cheek.

“I love you too.”

And then you kiss him.

Slow. Deep.

Like you’re trying to kiss away every dark thought, every lingering doubt, every cruel whisper that ever told him he was unworthy of love.

Bucky sighs into it, pulling you impossibly closer, like he wants to breathe you in, like he wants to carve this moment into eternity.

When you finally break apart, his nose nudges against yours, his lips brushing over your cheek, down to your jaw. His breath is warm against your skin as he murmurs, “I know we have that double date with Sam, but… just stay a little longer.”

You smile, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

A small pause. A soft, content sigh.

Then, in that same sleepy, gravelly voice…

“Oh, by the way….Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head, pressing another kiss to his lips, just because you can.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Bucky.”

[cvntydazai]

bad arguments

how these bsd characters are after a bad argument

pairing; dazai osamu x fem!reader, chuuya nakahara x fem!reader, ryunosuke akutagawa x fem! reader

word count; 916

content warning; unedited, angst, fluff, arguing, miscommunication

a/n; just something random i wrote while taking a break from my dazai fic!

DAZAI OSAMU:

arguing with dazai was exhausting, this man would rather die a painful death than admit he was in the wrong about anything, it was usually why your fights got more out of hand than they ever needed to be. you hated how he tried to deflect from a situation instead of just owning up to his mistakes.

one particularly heated argument had you so riled up you had to leave your apartment, no longer wanting to look your lover in the eye until he was ready to apologize. he didn’t even spare you a glance as you left, a smug expression on his face.

you make your return to your apartment many hours later, it was now nighttime and much too late to be out, especially alone. the first thing your eye catches when you walk through the door is dazai’s fluffy head of hair resting on the couch. you huff, putting your coat up before walking over to the couch.

“are you ready to apol-“ you stop mid-sentence when you realize dazai’s asleep.

he looked uncomfortable, heavy eyebags and his head resting at an awkward angle on the arm rest. you couldn’t help it, a soft coo leaves your lips and it wakes him instantly. those honey eyes were everything but smug this time around.

“my flower, you’re back.” he mumbles, large hands reaching up to caress your face.

“i am..” you say, he smiles.

you continue to stare into his gaze for just a little longer, the silence draping over the two of you like a warm blanket. he knows that what you’re truly waiting for is his apology, he was more than happy to give it to you.

“i’m sorry, for everything. forgive me?” he says at last in his usual supple tone.

of course you forgave him, you always would.

CHUUYA NAKAHARA:

fights with chuuya usually didn’t last long, you two actually pride yourself on your communication when it comes to your relationship. he would never try to hurt you intentionally, you’re the most important person to him and he makes sure you never forget it.

but this one fight had you both out of control. you don’t remember who started it but no one was willing to end it, anything that came out of either of your mouths was only more fuel for the fire. if you were being honest with yourself, it terrified you. it wasn’t chuuya and his capabilities that had you so scared, you knew he would never bring any harm your way, it was the reality that this fight could be the ending to your relationship.

you didn’t want it to end like this, it couldn’t end like this. he was all you had and you would never forgive yourself if this was how it ends. so caught up in your own frightened mind, you didn’t even notice that chuuya quieted down and was staring into your eyes.

“ey, why are you crying?” he didn’t mean for the question to come out as harsh as it did, he was just so taken aback.

when you didn’t reply he really started to worry, his mind no longer focused on whatever you two were bickering about.

“come on doll, please don’t cry. i’m sorry.” his voice only made more salty tears spill from your eyes, in your opinion you didn’t deserve such tenderness.

he wrapped his arms around your frame, his hand on the back of your head and his face buried in your hair. he let you sob your heart out, even if it made his own heart ache. when you finally calmed down you were ready to speak.

“am i still the most important person in the world to you?” he smiled.

“of course you are.”

RYONUSUKE AKUTAGAWA:

you knew your boyfriend wasn’t good at communicating, a part of you had accepted that wholeheartedly. he made his efforts because of how deeply he cared for you and you felt that was enough most of the time. your arguments were mostly about his carelessness when it came to his own personal safety, his nonchalant attitude to your concerns irritated you down to your core.

“if you’re going to act stupid and put yourself in avoidable danger then i’m leaving, i can’t take this.” you misspoke, his eyes widened.

what you truly meant was that you were leaving for a moment to calm down, not leaving him entirely. you could only stare in shock at what nonsense you just spewed from your mouth, guilt weighed down your body, preventing you from taking even one step towards him. it took seeing the fear in his eyes to finally break you free from your mind.

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean it like that i swear.” you tried to mend, now wanting nothing more than to put this whole argument behind you.

he let you pull him into a hug, you held his waist tightly to you. when you felt his hand holding the back of your head you breathed a sigh of relief.

“i know you didn’t mean it that way, but it scared me.” you nodded, understanding.

you mumbled a few more apologies and once you both had calmed down you were able to talk about some of your frustrations. it was mostly you talking and him listening, but it felt good knowing he was listening with such care. he promised to be more careful for you, and you promised to watch your wording when you’re upset.