#he’s always afraid that you won’t be there when he wakes up :(

[cheezb6llz]

YANDERE SONIC, SHADOW, AND KNUCKLES WITH CAPTIVE READER IMAGINES!!

basically them trying to be all lovey dovey with the reader and act like theyre in a normal relationship and the reader is just scared or sad 😣😣

this wasn’t requested i just wanted to write it

knuckles is purple now cause of his beautiful eyes

SHADOW

-You’ll go to sleep alone, only to wake up to Shadow lying next to you, his arm draped over your waist to keep you close. You shift around uncomfortably, he mutters under his breath, half awake.

“Stop moving. You aren’t going anywhere.”

-Shadow will bring you tea or coffee, made perfectly to the way you like it. If you don’t drink it, he’s not gonna leave until you’ve taken at least one sip.

He exhales.

“You’re being so difficult.. It’s made just to how you like it.”

-If hes reading a book or watching a show with you, he’ll make you sit in his lap. His arms will lock around your waist while you’re as stiff as ever.

“Dont worry.. You’ll get used to this. To me.”

-If you cry, his gloved hand will wipe away your tears as he speaks to you softly.

“I don’t like seeing you like this, Y/N.. but if this is what it takes to keep you, I will endure it.”

-Shadow likes to give you kisses. Not exactly gentle, or rough. Just.. Firm. When you pull away, trembling in fear, he hums

“You’ll learn to like it soon enough.”

-If you avoid eye contact, he’ll grip your chin forcing you to look at him.

“Ignoring me won’t change anything. You’re mine. You should act like it.”

-If he notices how scared you are, the way you tremble beneath him, he’ll pull you into a tight hug.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Y/N.. Be afraid of what I’d do to anyone who’d try to take you away from me.”

—

SONIC

-Sonic likes to nuzzle against you like everything’s great between you guys. His quills brush against your face as he jokes with you.

“C’mon, babe, give me a smile. Don’t make me tickle it outta ya!”

-He’s always calling him holding you captive a “getaway” as if it’s some sort of fun romantic trip between you two.

-He’ll unexpectedly pull you into his arms and spin the two of you around playfully. Your heartbeat quickens, not in excitement, but more in terror.

“Man, Y/N, you’re just so cute when you’re all flustered!”

-He’ll press a long kiss to your forehead, not caring if you flinch or shudder.

“Awww.. Don’t fight it, sweetheart. You’re stuck with me anyway.”

-If you’re good, he’ll untie you to cuddle with him and watch some TV or something. When you turn away, his grip will tighten around your waist, an eerie tone to his voice will take over.

“Y’know, I could tie you up again if you don’t wanna cooperate.”

-When he sits you two on a couch for this, he’ll suddenly pull you into his lap. You’d try to squirm away, but his grip only tightens.

“Heh, not going anywhere, babe. Get comfy.”

He’ll bring you blankets when it’s cold, wrapping them around your shoulders. His hands stay around your shoulders as he grins.

“See? I’m taking care of you, so maybe you should show me a little appreciation.”

-If you don’t talk to him, he’ll just talk for you. Always going on rants about how amazing you are, or how amazing he is. He leans back on a wall, arms behind his head.

“Hey, I bet if you weren’t so busy pouting all the time, you’d admit you kinda like it here.”

—

KNUCKLES

-Knuckles is always holding your hand. Not at all loosely, really tightly.. If you try to pull away, his grip will only tighten.

“Stop resisting.”

-He likes to stroke your hair, always murmuring things about how soft it is. It almost feels comforting, until you realize why you’re here.

-You won’t stop crying. Frustration is evident in his eyes as he wipes your tears away, demanding an answer.

“Tell me what to do to make you happy.”

He knows what you’ll say. Let you go. But he’s not ready to accept that.

-Knuckles insists on carrying you around everywhere, lifting you up with ease while your wrists are still bound as you hold them close to your chest. He ignores the way you tremble in his arms.

“You’re safest with me, you’ll understand one day.”

-You try to move away when he sits next to you. He doesn’t let you. He wraps his arm around you, holding you close.

“You should feel honored. Nobody else get’s this close to me.”

-You try to keep as much space between you two as possible, but that’s hard when he crawls into bed with you at night, pressing himself against your side and wrapping his arms around you knowing you can’t do anything about it.

“You looked cold. I’m not letting you push me away anymore.”

-If you refuse to look at him, looking down when he speaks to you face to face, his large, gloved hand will cup your cheek and tilt your head up. His purple eyes locked onto yours.

“I don’t like being ignored, Y/N”

-He catches you eyeing the locked door? Without a thought about it, he’ll redirect your attention to him by standing in front of it, arms crossed.

“Don’t even think about it.”

—

workibg on yalls requests 😁

[userluhna]

UNSPOKEN WORDS

hwang junho x f!reader

hwang junho x f!reader series masterlist

words: 1.7k

warnings: a bit emotional, junho needs a hug:( english isn’t my first language, grammar mistakes!

a/n: just let me know what you want to this for this fiction or just in general. i can do headcanons, about other characters or this fiction. my requests are open!

enjoy :)

—

it has been two months since you saw junho again. it was mid-may, and your birthday was close. he came by your coffee shop multiple times during the week, often when you closed, so you could go back home together. sometimes, he came by in the early afternoon, with soft rays of sun on his face and that angelic smile of his.

he always accompanied you to your apartment, petting your cat, sitting on the couch with a glass of water or a cup of tea. he always looked so tired but stayed anyway. he wanted to talk to you, he needed to. you did, too. his eyes were so dark, you knew they hid something deeper, something unspoken. he sometimes stayed a bit longer than usual, not necessarily to have deep conversations, but because “it’s so cozy here,” as he often said.

you exchanged silent glances throughout the evening. sometimes, the room was filled with laughter or memories of your days in england. he, however, didn’t have much to say. after inho’s disappearance, he spent the past nine years looking for him. he had few relationships, which didn’t last long because “i wasn’t there enough,” he’d say with a pinch of guilt in his voice. you knew that junho tried to be good, to be better in a relationship. you had seen it.

you shared your worries about your work. your café was doing great, but you needed to repay your loan, which was quite high.

“you know i can help,” he had said to you so many times.

sometimes, you would teach him new words in english or other languages you’d hear on your campus. “come on! you’re cheating, you don’t even have an accent!”

going back to korea made you so afraid. you left your big sister in scotland and had to go back alone. you had promised. “the first time i landed, it felt weird that no one was there for me, waiting,” you admitted one night. but it was your fault. “it also felt weird going back to a place that carries so many memories and traumatic experiences at the same time.” junho grimaced, fully understanding what had happened.

that one night, he stayed a bit longer than usual. it was 12:30 a.m. “you know that i feel guilty for not coming back earlier,” you spoke softly, bringing your cup of tea to your lips.

“knew that,” he said, resting his head on the pillow as he lay down on your sofa. you were sitting across from him in your comfy chair. “you always say sorry.”

“i truly am,” you said, looking at him. “not texting you, not calling you, and not seeing you. it wasn’t cool at all. i thought maybe you were just doing fine.”

junho let out a quiet scoff, his eyes still on the ceiling. “fine? you really thought that?”

“yeah, i mean–” you paused, not sure what to say anyway. “i didn’t call, text, or try to see either. you can’t blame only yourself, you know that, right?”

“i know, but–” you adjusted yourself, sitting up straighter in your chair. “i should’ve checked on you, on inho.”

his name seemed to echo in your apartment. it felt weird, even though you’d said it before. junho’s jaw clenched, and you saw it. he said nothing, resting the back of his hand on his forehead, closing his eyes. “you can sleep here tonight, i’m closed tomorrow so you can sleep in. i won’t wake you up.”

he smiled and looked at you. “i’m okay,” he said, closing his eyes again. “just need to rest these eyes.”

“yeah, sure,” you stood up, placing your cup on the small table between the two of you. you grabbed a blanket and placed it over him. he took your hand once it was close enough to his face. “thank you,” he murmured. “i still think about us, you know.”

“i know, junho. i do too.” you both knew it. you kneeled down next to him, your free hand hesitant but finding his cheek as he held the other in his hand. “you need to rest, i don’t know what you do all day but i’ve never seen you this fatigued.”

“i’m looking for him,” his voice cracked a little. you could feel it, all the pain, the frustration he carried. “i can’t stop, y/n.”

“i know,” you murmured. your thumb tracing soft circles on his cheek. “you’re doing your best, sweetheart.” your words hit him like a punch in the stomach. you felt a single tear leave his eyes, which neither he nor you bothered to wipe away. his eyebrows frowned, holding back more tears. his usually confident, tall frame cracked that night. he couldn’t help it.

you placed a soft kiss on his forehead. the warmth of your kiss almost burned the coldness of his body. “you’re okay, i’m here now, i’m sorry,” you murmured against his skin.

he said nothing, just held your hand tighter.

“i’m so sorry,” you said, your voice cracking. “i should’ve been there.” you pressed your forehead against his, eyes shut. his hand moved to your back, holding you hesitant at first, afraid he might hurt you but still firm as if you would fade away if he didn’t.

the two of you said nothing and just held each other in silence for a moment. you didn’t know how long, but as you pulled away, he sighed.

“sleep here tonight, okay? i want to know that you’re near.”

“okay, i’ll stay here,” he said so quietly that you questioned whether he had just fallen asleep in the seconds that followed. “good,” you said, standing up. you turned off the light and made your way to your bed.

you could still feel the warmth of his skin against yours as you lay down, holding onto your blanket. you could hear the soft hum of the fridge that filled the silence of your small apartment. you didn’t close the door to your bedroom that night, too afraid he might go while you were sleeping, and you wouldn’t be able to reach him.

tonight, junho wanted to say more, but he couldn’t. he tried, but the words didn’t come as easily as they did when you were younger, comforting each other. maybe tonight, it was enough. but it made him afraid — afraid he might not know how to take care of you, how to comfort you.

afraid you might slip away.

again.

[shiny-kaibernyte]

Romantic Leon headcanons, please?

Thank you! Finally someone requested Leon! You have asked and i as your humble writing servant shall oblige.

Leon | Romantic Headcanons

Leon absolutely adores you, through and through. Everything about you, your insecurities, your passions, your hobbies, your little quirks: to him it's all more things to love about you. He sees you as the center of his world, the core that keeps him grounded and warms his heart.

Seeing you interact with Hop or his mother, jelly instantly. Leon is a family man - fight me. So seeing you laughing with his little brother after you catch him off guard during a fight, or listening to your bonding moments with his mother. Heart eyes, literal heart eyes on this man.

Gentleman, opening doors for you, pulling out your chair, escorting you around cities or busy settings. He is always wanting to impress you, and chivalry seems to be his go to in doing that. 

Leon is NOT afraid to make a fool of himself. If you are ever upset and you need a pick me up, if a cuddle or words of affirmation aren't enough. Then he will do everything to make you laugh and yes, he is not afraid to be a clown in public. 

Will not hesitate to take his cloak off when you're cold. If he doesn’t have his cloak on, then his jacket, it's not as warm but it's the next best thing! 

An arm-linker. Wherever you go, he adores it when you hold onto his arm that classic royal way. Not only because he gets to be so close to you, able to talk to you whilst walking without worrying if you heard him or not. But it also means you won’t fall behind him. Leon is tall and walks with a PURPOSE! Even if he has no idea where he's going. If he tied his hair in a ponytail, it would be SWINGING.

Surprisingly enough he doesn’t like to battle you, he would much prefer watching or battling alongside you. Something about winning against you hurts him. Even if you are jumping for joy when he wins, not a care in the world just proud of him. Leon can’t help but feel something tug at him. Hop though, ohhhh boy you cannot leave that HOUSE without battling him first. And no Leon is not picking sides you are both his family even if he knows who very clearly will win.

Has never been late to a date once. On the rare occasion you don’t go out together and he decides to surprise you with a spontaneous day out, it is a 50/50 chance he is either in the middle of a field somewhere or Raihan calls you asking if you lost a Leon. Still not late though.

SPOILS YOU on birthdays, anniversaries, holidays. He will ALWAYS spend money on you, why? Because he can and he wants to. Being Champion and even an ex-champion, he is LOADED! And never spends money on himself unless it's something broken. You have to steal his wallet to STOP him spending money. What kind of uno-reverse is that?

Leons love languages are words of affirmation, physical affection. After the last point you'd think gift giving would be on here? Not really. He only gives gifts on special occasions. He thinks surprise gifts are pointless as eventually they become predictable. Whereas an embrace or an i love you are always special no matter how many times they happen.

Forehead kisser and a cheek cuper. Leon loves to just pull you into a warm embrace randomly and kiss you on the forehead, whispering i love yous before cupping your face and kissing you. It's his go to. 

Cuddly sleeper, he has to have you in some kind of embrace. Is also a light sleeper and doesn’t mind if you wake him up to move. He has had to leave late at night because of Rose so many times that getting him into a deep sleep is so rare.

When he DOES get into a deep sleep, it's always on the sofa. Hair a mess, hat on the floor, arm up, he looks like Anna from frozen when she was asleep in that one scene. It is truly a hilariously adorable sight to behold. Many pictures have been taken. Both Hop and Raihan have about 20 saved.

[kingkonoha]

Gojo doesn’t think he deserves you, and he doesn’t really understand why you want to be with him.

𝐒𝐇𝐘 & 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who doesn’t know much about his purpose in life, nor does he truly care about himself. All he knows is that he loves you more than anything else in the entire world.

You’re his baby. You picked him to love. And he truly can’t believe it.

“Hey,” he said softly, looking up at you from where he rested his head on your lap. The two of you had spent the entire day lounging around on the couch. “Why do you love me so much? I don’t get it.”

“Hm?” Tilting your head a bit, you glanced down to meet his ocean blue eyes. “You don’t get why I love you?”

“It just doesn’t make sense to me. I know why I love you, but . . . how could you love me back, exactly?”

The question — while easy enough to answer — was puzzling in terms of trying to figure out why he would ask such a thing.

“I love you for a lot of reasons, baby. You’re so sweet, kind, and protective. I love it when you get all clingy too, like right now? How you just plopped down on my lap? It’s absolutely precious.” Stroking his soft white hair, you smiled down at him softly.

“Now you’re just being cheesy,” Gojo tried to fight off a grin, a soft shade of pink dusting across his cheeks as he blushed. You couldn’t help but widen your smile at the sight of that cute face of his.

“You’re really handsome too, but I think you knew that already. I mean, I figured you knew all of the reasons why I love you. Don’t I tell you enough? Why’d you have to ask?” Your soft smile slowly transformed into a little frown, and Gojo couldn’t stand the sight of it.

“It’s not you, trust me. You tell me enough, and I appreciate it, but I guess I just don’t see myself the way you do.”

Gojo wasn’t smiling anymore. He also didn’t look you in the eye. That pretty face of his was as blank as a new canvas, and it was rather startling how he simply didn’t believe you.

With nearly every step he took, every corner he turned — someone would always look up at that tall, handsome man, and tell him how good looking or powerful he was.

Those who were close to him would tell you how outgoing and confident he happened to be, even daring to have a bit of an ego as well. Not overbearing enough to make people dislike him, but strong enough to make you question why he seemed so shy and insecure around you.

“Why don’t you see yourself the way I see you?” You asked, your worried tone making him look up at your frowned face. “Be honest. I wanna know why you find it so difficult to understand why I love you.”

“All I do is kill. Kill curses. Kill enemies. Teach other people how to do the same thing. It’s all I have to offer . . . All that I’m good for.” Gojo turned onto his side, his head pressing against your thighs. “But you? You’re just an ordinary person with an ordinary life.”

“Is that why you act different around me compared to everyone else? ‘Cause I’m ordinary?”

“I just don’t really get how an ordinary person can love someone like me,” Gojo’s eyes fluttered closed, and he yawned. “It shocks me. And I love you so much that it makes me nervous. I guess I’m worried that someday you’ll start seeing me in a different light, and . . . I don’t want you to stop . . . loving me.”

His sudden vulnerably must have been a result of his tiredness, because as soon as he finished speaking, your sweet lover was fast asleep, right on your lap.

However, despite his soft snores, his brows were furrowed slightly. Jaw clenched. He looked scared, and you knew exactly why.

“I love you, Gojo. I love every single part of you,” you whispered, gently running your fingers along the side of his face. “I’m never going to stop loving you, I promise. I’ll be here when you wake up. I’ll always be here.”

Once those easing words fell from between your lips, the sleeping man’s entire body relaxed, and he was at peace.

At the sight of his little smile, you knew that he finally believed you.

[prisonhannibal]

Do you remember what you were doing when you were fifteen? I remember. When I was fifteen I used to love comic books and drawing and spent a lot of time wondering about what I wanted to be when I grew up and what school to go to. I loved spending time with my friends and going to the library. The genocide has taken all of that from the children of gaza. One day you’re hanging out with friends and doing homework and studying for your future, and the next day all of your books are buried under the remains of your house, your school, your home.

Ibrahim (@ibrahim-family) is only fifteen years old. He has lost access to education, his home, and his safety, and now he has to spend his time trying to fundraise for his family’s safety.

€4,840 out of €10,000 goal

He lives in Gaza with his family, and only a few days ago a bomb near him injured one of his relatives and martyred two others. Every day in Gaza is dangerous, every hour could be the last. No child should have to go through this. Children should be safe enough to worry about exams, not whether or not they’ll wake up to news of more loss. Think of yourself at fifteen, now think of everything you’ve experienced and done since then. Every achievement, every class, the birth of younger cousins, birthdays, weddings. even the small things, like a good meal you’ve had or a movie you watched. that’s what’s being taken from every child martyred in gaza. their whole future, everything they should get the chance to experience and do.

When I asked Ibrahim if there’s anything he wants me to tell everyone in this post, he said that he is very very sad and scared and that he has just lost relatives. Ibrahim has expressed to me more than once that when he goes to bed he’s afraid he won’t wake up in the morning. Even after losing his relatives, he doesn’t have time to grieve in peace, because he’s always in danger himself. It’s not safe for him or his family in Gaza.

Please help Ibrahim and his family be safe. I’m very worried about Ibrahim, because donations have been slow. My heart breaks for him every time he tells me he’s scared. He is so young and has so much life in front of him, he deserves safety. I ask you if you have anything to give, please help bring Ibrahim and his family to safety so that he can rest and recover and go back to school to follow his dreams.

thank you for reading, if you can’t donate please share this post so it may reach people who can ❤️

this fundraiser is vetted by @gazavetters, number 25 on the spreadsheet

@90-ghost @tamamita @dirhwangdaseul @butchniqabi @vampiricvenus @heritageposts @neechees @furiousfinnstan @khanger @autisticmudkip @appsa @strangeauthor @akajustmerry @spaceboytoi @dlxxv-vetted-donations @ibtisams @feluka @toesuckingoctober @sawasawako @fluoresensitive @anneemay

[merlinmylove]

Merlin is on bed rest and unavailable to work so George has to step in for a few weeks

“George, where are my socks?”

“They’re in the sockdrawer sire, next to your smallclothes — here, i’ll grab them for you”

“But why are they there??”

“Because…that’s where the socks belong?”

“But Merlin always kept my socks in the basket next to the wardrobe”

“Why would he do that? that makes no sense?”

“Huh…no idea… but I prefer it that way, so dump the socks into the basket and leave the drawer empty”

🧺🧺🧺🧺🧺🧺

“Your breakfast is on the table sire, i’ve pressed your formal robe so it’s ready for petitions in the afternoon, and your ceremonial circlet is polished for you”

“Why are you standing over there? aren’t you gonna drag me out of the bed feet first?”

“Your majesty!? why on earth would I do such a thing?!”

“It’s just…that’s usually how merlin wakes me up — nevermind, hand me that apple”

🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏

“I’ve packed your saddlebags for the hunting trip, my lord”

“Good, It’s going to be a great day for fishing”

“Fishing sire? I’m afraid I haven’t packed anything for a fishing trip, forgive me sire, I had no idea your plans had changed”

“Oh right, you wouldn’t know. Merlin hates hunting, so we always fish, but we still call it a hunting trip so that others won’t ask any questions”

��I see, sire (he didn’t) but are you still going fishing now that Merlin is on bedrest and unable to join?”

“Ah…I hadn’t thought of that. Perhaps you would join me?”

“I …thank you sire, but my chores…”

“Of course, you’re right. I’ll ask Sir Percival if he will join me instead”

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

“My lord, might I help you with — that?”

“Ah no thanks George, I’ve got it”

“Right of course sire. Might I ask, no forgive me, its not my place to question his majesty”

“No no, go ahead, just ask”

“What…or I guess, why are you…dusting under the bed?”

“Merlin gets terribly sneezy when it’s dusty, so I always make sure it doesn’t get too dusty in here, otherwise I’ll never hear the end of it, ahaha”

“But why isn’t Merlin, your manservant, dusting under the bed himself?”

“Oh he hates dusting”

🧹🧹🧹🧹🧹🧹🧹

[animamii]

letter from lockedup!Toji that goes along with this drabble ‎♡‧₊˚

...Beautiful, I just want you to know; you're my favorite girl...

— Beautiful~~Snoop dogg + Pharrel

‎

Hey, princess.

Got your letter today. Been reading it over and over, like I always do. I swear, these pages are the only thing keeping me sane in here. When everything else in this place feels like it’s closing in, I got your words, your handwriting, the way I can almost hear your voice saying all this to me. It keeps me steady. Keeps me from losing my head.

And that picture you sent? Fuck. You tryin’ to kill me in here? I swear, if these walls weren’t in the way, I’d be home already. You look good, baby. Too good. Almost makes me mad that other people get to see you like this when I can’t. But I know you’re mine. Always have been. Always will be.

You don’t even gotta try, and you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Sitting there, all sweet, all perfect. Makes me crazy knowing I can’t reach out and touch you, pull you into me, feel your skin, hear you laugh in my ear. It ain’t fair. But I guess nothing ever has been for me. Except you. You’re the one thing in this world that ever felt like it was mine. I don’t say this enough, probably don’t say half the shit you deserve to hear, but I need you to know that. You ain’t just my girl. You’re my peace, my home, the only thing I’ve ever been afraid to lose. And that’s saying something.

I laughed when I read about Megumi and his damn ramen obsession. Stubborn little punk. I wonder where he gets it from. (Yeah, yeah, don’t say shit—I know.) Tell him I said to listen to his stepma, eat a real meal, and quit acting like he doesn’t miss me. I know how he is. Pretends he don’t care, but I bet if I walked through that door tomorrow, he’d be the first one running to me. He won’t say it, but you can see it in his eyes. Just like his old man. Make sure he’s eating real food, alright? He might act like he don’t care, but I know he listens to you. Probably more than he ever listened to me.

And you. You better be taking care of yourself too. Are you sleeping? Eating? Taking care of yourself? I know how you get—running around, worrying about everyone else, not stopping to breathe. You always got so much to worry about, but you forget you’re supposed to take care of you too. I don’t wanna hear that you’re running on empty, staying up too late, stressing yourself out. You always act tough, but I know you, baby. I know when you’re holding too much inside. I know when you need me. And I swear to you, I’m coming back.

You tell me you’ll wait. That you don’t care how long it takes. But, baby, I care. Every second in here is a goddamn eternity. Every night I go to sleep thinking about you, and every morning I wake up counting down the days until I can get back to you. And I will. No matter what I gotta do, no matter how long it takes, I will get home to you.And when I do? You better be ready. Because I’m never letting you out of my sight again. You hear me? You’re stuck with me, forever.

Wait for me just a little longer. I love you. More than I’ll ever be able to put into words.

Toji

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Can I request a scenario with Malleus encouraging f!reader touching his horns now that one of them is broken after seeing she's sad/hesitant about it but she used to do it a lot before? ♡♡♡Thank you love your blog♡♡♡

Malleus Draconia:

You had never hated Malleus.

You had never been afraid of him.

You were scared for him, scared that he would never see past his anguish, that the concept of losing someone dear to him would blind him to the reality of what he’s done. You felt like an intruder in this battle, watching those who grew up alongside him, who served him dutifully and who were fueled by the desperation to save him from himself, stand their ground best they could until a victor could be announced.

The partial loss of his horn was a sacrifice that had to be made, if it was either that or his life, your preference was clear. But the loss of his magic was a heavy hit, as was the emotional fallout from all the very upset students who had fallen under his sleeping spell. You can’t say you were mad, just exhausted, and endlessly relieved that in the end his family could stay together, no matter how each individual had changed over the course of this journey.

Malleus was hesitant to approach you, perhaps remembering that your dream consisted of a yearning to be by his side, yet he couldn’t give you the full attention he wanted while monitoring everyone else’s dreams. He had left you with just a copy of himself, which was why he was determined to seek you out in the waking world. You had greeted him with a smile, as strained as it might be, and he found himself wondering how you felt about him now. Worrying was a more accurate descriptor, but if he allowed himself to think on it too long, he would never find it in him to approach you.

He does notice when the conversation begins that your eyes drift to his horns, specifically the broken one that had brought an end to this unfortunate situation. You had always had a fondness for his horns, admiring them quietly in class when you could, and Malleus could never forget the look of awe (and mild embarrassment) when he had asked if you wanted to touch them. He knew humans were generally curious about such things and since you had been polite enough to not just grab at them like they were decorations, he figured you’d take him up on his offer.

“Would you like to touch them?” His tone is mildly playful and you’re brought back to several long months ago when he had first asked, the question making your face warm the same way it had before.

“I… It won’t hurt, would it?” You didn’t know the biology of his horns, or if there were nerve endings or something else that might cause discomfort.

Malleus just shook his head in response, leaning down to allow you access, praying that you would do it. Did you see him differently now? Was the broken horn a signifier that something else inside him was broken? He was afraid of the permanent damage he had done to your relationship, to you, and there would never be enough apologies to offer to truly make up for it. He just hoped you understood him, what it meant to touch a dragon’s horns, and that you were willing to see a future that involved you intertwined.

 Your hands are as gentle as they were the first time, and the many times after where he allowed you to touch him, fingers slowly tracing along the hardened surface of his horns. You don’t avoid the jagged areas where it’s broken off, familiarizing yourself with each bump and point until you finally pulled your hands away. You had felt his intense gaze on you the entire time, finally allowing your eyes to meet.

You gave him a smile, a genuine one, and while the path of forgiveness might be long, Malleus knew you’d walk alongside him until the very end.  

[acmeangel]

Levi always cut his own hair. Always. Over the bathroom sink, the door open just a sliver, a crease between his brow, his lips set in a straight line.

You knew this about him. You figured it was just another one of his habits and particularities, like how he has to brew his own tea. You tried once, and when he took a sip, his nose twitched and he asked “How did you make this?” — not quite an insult, he couldn’t bring himself to be completely rude to you, but you knew what he meant. You haven’t made tea since.

But the hair cutting. He’d never announce it, never make a comment about it after. If you told him it looked nice, he’d simply make a noise of acknowledgement and move on.

You’d simply find him, in the bathroom, door cracked open, while he leaned over the sink, snipping pieces of hair with practiced precision. The muscles in his neck, shoulders, and back would flex and move with every motion, the tension lingering within them obvious. The irises of his eyes looked cloudier, distant, and that crease between his brow persisted. Always.

You push the bathroom door open, slowly, soundlessly, as if a sudden movement would make him disappear into thin air. Sometimes, you thought it might.

You lean against the doorway, watching him — he catches your gaze in the mirror for just a second, his eyes locking onto yours with a fleeting vulnerable intensity, before he focuses on himself again.

You just want to help. It’s all you ever want to do, really — to take over some of the tedious little things he does by himself every day, just because he’s always done them by himself. Bit by bit, you want to show him that the weight he carries on his shoulders is something that can be shared, that you’d carry it with him, happily.

“You know, there are these things called barbers that are pretty good at this sort of thing,” you tease, gently, a faint smile curling onto your lips. You knew a groan was coming, but you also knew he appreciated your teasing. It made him feel more grounded.

Groan. Tch.

“Why would I pay someone to do a shitty job?” His eyes flicker to yours in the mirror again, a touch softer this time.

“Want help with the back?” you ask, your eyes lingering on the strands of hair that have begun to grow down the curve of his neck. “I’ll do it for free. It’s really quite a steal.”

“No,” he says. Instantly, flatly.

You walk over closer to him, as he snips the hair in front of his face.

“I won’t mess it up. I can handle trimming a few pieces of hair.” You smile at him in the mirror, and your hand finds its way to rest on the nape of his neck, gently.
He flinches, slightly. He never moved away from your touch anymore — not since the early days of your relationship, where every affectionate touch was foreign to him. In fact, now he usually leaned into it, wanted it.

“I can do it myself.” His voice comes out a little lower, a little rougher this time. His eyes don’t find yours in the mirror.

“Okay, Levi.” Your hand retracts from his neck, and you exit the bathroom. You didn’t want to push, you never did. You learned that with Levi, things had to progress a little slower. It had been like that since the first time he kissed you — his lips had been so light against yours, his hands just barely cradled your face. He’d never admit it out loud, but you knew he was afraid — afraid to let himself care about something precious, afraid that you’d leave him one way or another, afraid that he’d never be able to give you what you deserve.


You knew none of it was true. You loved him, and you weren’t going anywhere, and you loved the way he loved you. Quietly, subtly, through actions and small gestures, instead of words and big romantic displays. It was all you’d ever need.

You didn’t need him to sweep you off your feet or tell you that he loved you every day. You were just as happy waking up every morning to a warm cup of jasmine tea on your bedside table, in your favorite mug that he had once spent hours fixing after the time you had dropped it. It was always made perfectly — something he’d learned just for you, despite calling it “that herbal crap.”

Seeing the way your lips curved into a smile after taking a sip was really the only thing he ever needed.

So, you leave the bathroom and you get into bed, and you wait for him to join you.

A short while later, he does. He slides into the bed beside you, his head finds the place on your chest that it always does. His head turns away from you, the back of his neck a faint red from rubbing it with a towel, tiny drops of water glistening in his hair.

You reach out and stroke his hair — while he doesn’t let you cut it, he will always let you run your fingers through it. You’ve found that it soothes him, that it helps him relax at night.

He makes a noise of approval, of affection.

“I’ve never let anyone cut my hair,” he says after a while, a hint of apology in his tone.

“Levi.” Your hand continues to stroke his soft hair. “You don’t need to explain it to me.”

“My mom was the only person who’s ever cut my hair.” His voice is low, a rare softness to it, as he admits this, his face turned away from you. “I don’t want…” His voice trails off.

He doesn’t need to continue. You know what he means. He’d told you bits and pieces about his mom, about his childhood, and you’d been able to put it all together. You could tell, by the way he talked about his mom, that his memory of her was starting to slip through his fingers — and now, it seemed, the way she cut his hair is one of the few memories left.

“I know,” you say, your voice soft. “Don’t worry. But, at least let me get you some better scissors for it.”

A long, gentle silence falls between you two. Your eyes trace the slope of his shoulder, the slow rising and falling of his breathing.

He turns over, his head faces toward you. Your fingers drift from his hair to the curve of his cheek.

“Maybe… next time, you can help.” His voice is a slight, relaxed mumble, and his eyes search yours. “With the back. It’s a pain. Practically break my damn neck doing it.”

Mmm, you hum, nodding softly. “Alright, I will.”

“Just don’t make it uneven. Or I might have to leave you for a shitty barber.”

You laugh, and you smile. This is all he ever needs.

The corners of his lips twitch into a faint smile. His hand reaches up to capture yours as it gently caresses his face, and he presses a soft kiss into your palm. You know what this gesture means.

“I love you too, Levi.”

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Masterlist

Requests are open!

[affableramen]

How they sleep with you (sfw)

 ━─━────༺༻────━─━

Wriothesley

he always comes to the bed after you and tries to move carefully in order to not wake you if you have already fallen asleep

he is a big spoon so he hugs you from behind really nice and comfy

usually very tired of late shifts at work so probably will be dead asleep the next few seconds. You’d pull the blanket over him ensuring he doesn't catch a cold. Oh, he loves when you take care of him :(

he gives out the best hugs and is actually very warm, like a big old wolf can be your personal blanket. Even though you would still wrap the both of you into the fuzzy blanket knowing that this silly man probably doesn't realise that the nights are getting longer and freezing

loves nuzzling into your hair, coz your scent makes him relaxed and he’ll likely have a good night sleep after a sniff of his significant other

Tartaglia

he is actually very sweet and gentle in the bed with you, especially before sleep when the both of you likely end up tired after work

removes his accessories, rings, gloves only to gently wrap his bare hands around you. tartaglia is a big spoon as well. he does not fail to amaze you with how smooth his hands feel against your arm compared to his finesse in a battlefield

loves warm temperature so makes sure both of you are wrapped in huge fuzzy blankets

loves a good mug of hot chocolate or honey herbal tea before sleep and will make you one too!

although loves being a boss aka big spoon, will die for you to lie on his chest <3

Neuvillette

being a small spoon he loves when you wrap your arms around his broad chest, he finds it very comfy and in a way, soothing

Neuvillette is extremely shy and solitary so he won’t usually ask you for something but sharing a nice cup of warm water before sleep with you is his guilty pleasure. There is just something super endearing about sharing his favourite drink intimately with you, under the moonlight and rain…

he takes big pleasure in being undressed by you, he just wants to feel you remove these formal indigo layers from his shoulders. will also let you personally remove his feather hair pin and unclip other accessories from his lavish outfit

even though his eyes look cold sometimes he ensures his significant other doesn't doubt his affection which is showing quite well in how he holds you in sleep

holds your hand in the sleep so tight as if afraid you will disappear the next day. Neuvillette enjoys your company more than he is going to admit. Hard on the outside - sweet inside, he almost innocently kisses your forehead and cheek before sleep so that you almost forget how stiff and rough this man is in court

Pantalone

sleep? doesn’t know him. This man has huge eyebags coz apparently he sleeps in the office… 

his face looks completely different without glasses and you cannot help but be in awe every night, seeing the perfect shape of his eyes clearly and slight hints of exhaustion after the whole CEO work

after having you help him inject insulin, he lets you take his gloves off, and even though he’s been sharing domestic pleasures with you for a while, still wary of showing his bare hands to you every time, coz he has an eczema he finds disgusting. will hum quietly while you spread a gentle cream over his hands as a skincare routine procedure before sleep

he is attached to you more than he initially planned to and it is showing in the way his hands “accidentally” graze yours or his eyes examine your sleepy face before he drifts off too. You’re left mesmerised at how this man, a heartless businessman, treats you so softly and dearly

is actually capable of comforting someone, so will do a great deal of comforting you if something about your mood seems off. He is not very sensitive to emotions but he understands you logically, judging by your body language, routine or the way you talk. Trust me, this man is the gentlest when it comes to your vulnerability, he will ensure 💯 that you feel safe and happy enough, so he will hug you SO tight in the sleep, in order to just soothe you 

Alhaitham

cannot let you fall asleep without night cuddles when he with his muscular chest loves pressing you into the sheets

even though he is grumpy about it, allows you dismantle his clothes. There is something endearing about touching his biceps and chest while you undress him 

Alhaitham loves when you sniff his hair and bury your face into it. He might possibly lay closer to you so that your nose bumps in his head or throat 

turns his relaxing lo-fi kind of music on so that you can enjoy it too and tune into sleep with him

he sleeps very quietly and peacefully but can wake up to a single noise. Be sure to hold him close and not wake him <3

Capitano

loves caressing your soft tummy when you’re in the bed with him

when it’s a cold night and even heating doesn't seem to help, you pull his toned body on top of yours so that he provides additional warmth and comfort. Capitano loves laying on top of you, but concerned he’ll be too heavy for you

he won't let you fall asleep without a night kiss, he’s so addicted to your lips that he just won't allow you go to bed without bringing that sweetest gentlest smooch to your lips

he goes to bed quite early which is understandable for a gentleman coded guy like him. If you are not sleepy and plan to play in your phone he won't have objections to it however. He will pull his blanket up his body and let you enjoy your stuff while he is attempting to sleep 

He is a tea drinker, so herbal tea before sleep is must have for him. One of his personal favourites is - camomile tea

Dottore

he is actually the sweetest when it comes to before sleep procedures. He loves doing domestic stuff with you a whole lot

night time is probably the only way for you to see his face coz he removes his mask. He’s afraid he might hurt you since you sleep wrapping your body around him while he buries his face into your neck from behind

he is very sensitive to your emotions so if you seem upset for the evening he will make jokes (even if unfunny or cringey) to ensure your mood is changed. He can't bare to see you frustrated and wants you to be as comfortable as possible, since you have already given him enough - like trust, patience and affection 

brushing or playing with your hair is his addiction before sleep. He is not exactly the tidiest person around but he loves touching your hair and he even says that you inspired him to take more care of his own

lots of talk talk meaningless talk about his theories before sleep because he loves sharing his personal opinions and ideas with you. He trusts you this much

Dainsleif

cold on the outside, becomes softer the longer you know him, this man being a tsundere king isn't very touchy with you, however during sleep he subconsciously tries to reach your hand, to feel your warmth

you love listening to his stories about his adventures and travels, his experience is sure long and enticing enough for you

is also a tea drinker before sleep. Just imagine pyjamas wearing Dainsleif in slippers as he waits for his tea to be ready

you love ruffling his blonde hair as the both of you lie down. Though he groans in dissatisfaction, subconsciously he loves it too but never admits it

this man loves sleeping only in his boxers so you are for sure going to feel the warmth of his body and smell his natural scent as he is pressed close to the sleepy you

Baizhu

he makes sure he folded every one of his working papers and sorted all medicine bags as he gets into the sheets with you

he is prone to feeling chronically cold, so he will pull you close to get some of your warmth for himself (that’s a bit yandere of him don’t you think)

Baizhu is very tidy and neat so one of your favourite things is touching his silky hair and his clean fingers as the both of you slowly drift away to sleep

he shares one trait with Pantalone - staring at his beloved one’s face until he completely falls asleep limp. He is addicted to you and your face as if your whole presence is some sort of a drug

anxious of discovering an empty bed. he holds you so close as if a single thought of you slipping off his fingers terrifies him. Will be really irritated if you two do not wake up simultaneously 

[aurorawritestoescape]

MOVIE NIGHT

Stepdad Joel Miller x f!reader || 650 words

Summary: a movie night ends with a bang.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, step-cest, big legal age gap, perv!Joel and his usual antics, depravity so be warned, light drugging, public but you’re not caught, infidelity, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampie, degradation, daddy kink, swearing

A/n: this moodboard and the drabble are made for @evolnoomym ‘s First Birthday Party. My prompt was Movie Night. Happy blog anniversary, baby! Ily!❤️ Big thank you to 🎯 anon for the mom thot😵‍💫 Kisses to my love @milla-frenchy for looking this over😘 Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Series masterlist || MASTERLIST

“Joel, are you crazy?” you whisper in panic as your stepdad manhandles you on his lap and throws your legs apart with his strong hands, making you straddle him on the couch.

“Crazy about these girls,” Joel gruffs, pulling your top up and exposing your naked breasts. He hungrily starts kneading your soft flesh, grunting and growling like a wild animal finally sinking its teeth into a prey. His pupils are two lustful black holes, his plush lips are wet, his forehead glistening with sweat in the blueish light of the tv. He’s probably been hiding his boner under a blanket all night and now his musky scent hits your nose and makes you gush into your shorts.

“Fuckin finally,” Joel mumbles and pushes his face against your tits. You clap your hand to your mouth when a mewl threatens to escape your lips, your eyes darting between your mom, sleeping on the other side of the couch and your stepdad’s face between your breasts. Your heart is beating so loudly you’re afraid the booming is going to wake your mother up. That or the smacking sounds of Joel sucking on your pebbled nipples.

You grab him by the hair and tug lightly, trying not to hurt him.

“Joel, stop. Let’s go up to my room. She’ll wake up..,” you beg quietly, your voice strained with fear.

��She won’t.” You barely understand his muffled grumbling, his mouth full of your tit .

“What do you mean she— ahhh..”

You struggle to finish your question when Joel shoves his paw into your shorts, nearly ripping them in half, and pushes two thick fingers into your wet hole. Now it’s impossible to deny that you’ve been hardly watching the movie tonight and instead have been dreaming of riding your stepdad on that very couch. Dreams do come true!

“Dropped a couple of her candies in the tea. She’s gonna be out till the morning.”

“Ohhh,” you moan, keeping your voice down, yet failing to hide the bliss, coursing through your body, when Joel begins fingering you. His giant hand is gripping your hip, setting the rhythm of your movements, when you start meeting his fingers half-way.

As always when you’re with Joel, soon lust engulfs you like a wave, and a few minutes later you’re happily bouncing on your stepdad’s cock without a care in the world, your naked tits jiggling in front of his flushed face. The couch is squeaking like crazy but you two are going at it harder, faster, hotter with every thrust and every moan.

“Nasty slut. Jumpin on my schlong when mommy’s right here. Daddy’s cock too addictive, huh?”

A hazy smile blooms on your face, and when Joel latches onto your neck and half kisses - half bites your delicate skin, your pussy squeezes around his throbbing cock and then chokes it again and again, massaging his shaft, creaming around his stiffness and his sweatpants.

The next moment the pillow of Joel’s balls under your ass starts emptying, and you feel his cum being pumped into your core with mighty squirts, as he’s growling against your neck,

“Hnggggughhhh.”

“Daddy-daddy-daddy-,” you chant, begging him not to stop, to continue fucking up into your needy pussy, to give you more pleasure, more cum, more love.

You’re still trembling with aftershocks when Joel’s nose slides up from your neck to your cheek and he pecks the corner of your lips. You sit up swaying and look into his hazy bloodshot eyes.

“You’re disgusting,” you pant and he smirks before pulling you roughly into a passionate kiss, licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue.

Joel softens inside you while you’re making out next to your snoozing mother, and when your eyes get droopy, he takes you in his arms and carries you to your bedroom.

“Did you enjoy the movie night, little slut?” he coos mockingly while tucking you in. You give him a tired but satisfied smile and purr,

“Yes, daddy.”

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!

Series masterlist || MASTERLIST

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40 @meetmeatyourworst @callmebyyournick-name

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny hadn't ever been on this side of the equation before.

He stared at his old phone, the prickle of unease scratching at his neck.

Danny was the one that died. He was the one that died and came back. He'd never asked anyone how it had felt to see him die over and over again to become Phantom. Danny was starting to think that maybe he should have, if only so that he wouldn't be blindsided about what he felt now.

"Danny? Y'okay?"

Danny glanced up at the mumbled words, numbed eyes looking at Jason's sleep-heavy face.

"Hm?"

"Ya've been lookin' at that thing for an hour now. You good?"

Danny blinked at him, like the world was a sea of bittersweet molasses and he was the sailor drowning beneath its waves. "...Remember how I told you that you reminded me of my sister?"

There was apprehension on Jason's face now. It was a gentle kind of apprehension, softened by worry and love.

“Yeah…?”

Danny gestured for Jason to come closer. He opened the phone and tapped on Jazz.

“Woah. She kinda looks like me.” Jason tugged at his black hair. “Y’know, if I kept my red hair.”

Danny smiled, sad and tired. “Yeah. She really liked reading. And she always wanted to know more. Help more. Like you,” Danny’s eyes laid on the folded uniform of Robin on the kitchen table. He hugged Jason closer. “You remind me of her.”

“What… what happened to her?”

Danny hadn’t cried for a long, long time. Even when Jazz spoke to him in half remembered whispers and in Jason’s actions, he could not shed a tear. But something about today, something about those pictures, opened up a poorly scabbed wound and Danny’s face dripped with slow tears.

“She died,” he whispered. “I brought the vigilante life to her and she died protecting me.”

“Oh. That’s why you were so mad, then.” Jason looked down at the picture, blue eyes tracing the face of the woman that looked so similar to him.

“Yeah.”

“I won’t die, Danny,” Jason promised.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Jay." Danny squeezed Jason's shoulders before wiping away his tears. He inhaled, a slow, shuddering breath, before straightening. "You are so grounded."

"But- Robin!"

"Jason will always come before Robin. And Jason is grounded because Jason lied to me about being Robin and where he was going and whether or not he was safe."

And really, wasn't that the crux of the issue? Danny didn't have any problem with Jason going out and starting fights. He had no problem with how Jason wanted to help. But the thought of loosing him- loosing his loved ones after only learning to keep them clutched to his heart before he looses them- drove Danny down a spiral that he could not afford to enter again.

How many times had Danny almost lose Jason? How many times did he come to loosing the only good thing in Gotham? How many times had he laid asleep, not knowing whether Jason was bleeding out in an alley somewhere? How close had Danny come to waking up to news of Jason's cold corpse?

It made him furious. More than that, it made him terrified. Never in his half life had he ever been afraid to this extent. Not even for Jazz. It made him want to drown the feeling with enough booze to down a speedster. But he couldn't. Not now, not with Jason. His little brother deserved better than that. Not to mention the shit his little brother would get up to if he weren't fully there.

"But first, you gotta help me with something."

"... Fine."

Danny got up and bee-lined towards his booze stash. They're going out. Right now. He shoved the bottles into a tote bag.

"Let's go. We're destroying this."

"We are?"

"I can't be drunk and teach you how to vigilante."

"You're okay with me being Robin?" Hesitant blue eyes peered up at him. Danny's heart melted, the traitorous little shit.

"Not really. But I can't stop you, so I might as well make sure you live past 25." He jabbed Jason's forehead. "And I'll be reaming out Batman the next time he swings by, now that I'm not pissed as hell. I'll make sure it hurts."

"He's not that bad."

Danny sent him an unimpressed look and Jason mimed zipping his mouth closed, twisiting an imaginary key and throwing it over his shoulder. The little shit thinks he's got jokes. (He does, but Danny's supposed to be mad with him right now, so he'll never admit he thinks Jason's funny.)

They walked out of the apartment complex and turned to the right, right into the alley.

Did his heart give a little twinge every time Jason tossed the booze? Yes. But the hopeful thrill in his little brother's countenance made up for every single penny he spent.

"So... How long am I grounded for?"

At the reminder, Danny's hands clamped around one of the last bottles a little harsher than necessary.

"You... are grounded for- till college." He gritted out, tossing the bottle.

Jason's horrified "For- till college?!" rang nicely against the shattering of Danny's booze. Danny grinned and gave Jason a noogie.

"For till college," He affirmed, joking tone making Jason grumble, struggling to get out of the hold. "Or, for like, a week."

---

"Hey, Danny?"

Danny grunted, rousing slightly from his nap on the couch. They had been watching a show in the middle of Jason's grounding when he had drifted off.

"Did I ever tell you I had a brother?"

Danny's eyes flew open. "... No. Do you want to?"

Danny swiveled his head to look at Jason, who sat with his back against the couch and his head set aglow by the light of the TV. He looked... sad. Lonely.

"His name was Danny too."

Danny's heart shot right up to his throat. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. He died." Danny couldn't help the thought that passed him. Me too, buddy, me too. "I thought you were him. 'S why I talked ta ya, even if y're drinkin'."

Danny tilted his head back, silently closing his eyes in grief. It was fate, that wily Ancient.

"Is that... bad?"

"Nah. You're as good a brother as he was."

"Thank you for telling me, Jason."

"Whatever."

Danny laid back down, the thread of a memory all but confirming his theory.

"Come on, Danny-o, Jazz was being a good sister!"

Five year old Danny pulled the blanket up to his chin, pouting. His mother laughed.

"That's right, sweetie. She was trying to make sure you didn't get sick."

"I don't want Jazz! I want- I want a brother instead!"

His parents exchanged amused looks. "Well, Danny-o, you almost had a brother."

"Really?" Danny turned around, curious.

"Really. If Jazz was a boy, we would have named him Jason!" His dad laughed, ruffling his hair.

Danny wrinkled his nose. "Ew. I like Jazz better... oh."

[maskedbyghost]

The fight had been pointless. Like always, it started with something small, but the frustration kept building until it finally boiled over. You barely even remember what set it off. Something about Simon shutting you out again, about him always leaving when things got too heavy instead of talking things through. You’d snapped, voice raising in your shared home, demanding to know why he always ran.

And then he’d snapped back, eyes dark, jaw tight. "Maybe I leave because I don’t wanna say somethin’ I’ll regret."

It was a low blow, but so was your response. "Maybe you already did."

The silence after that was to much. Simon had let out a breath, and without another word, he grabbed his jacket and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Now, the house is too quiet. You sit in bed, arms wrapped around yourself, staring at the ceiling. You’re not even that angry anymore, just exhausted. Fighting with Simon never felt productive—he never wanted to talk, never wanted to express his feelings. He just walked away, like he was afraid of what might happen if he stayed.

You roll onto your side, pull the blankets up, and tell yourself you’ll deal with it tomorrow.

Simon doesn’t plan on drinking much. He just needs air, needs noise that isn’t the echo of your voice in his head. He finds a pub—not too crowded, not too quiet—and takes a seat at the bar, ordering whiskey. Price doesn’t matter. Taste doesn’t matter. He just needs the burn.

He still keeps checking his phone even though he knows you won’t text.

Then the man sits next to him. Mid-forties, maybe older, eyes bloodshot, a deep crease in his brow. He orders another round, then turns to Simon, as if deciding he’s the one to unload on.

"You ever have a fight with your missus?" the man asks, voice thick with alcohol.

Simon doesn’t answer right away. Just tenses, fingers tightening around his glass.

"Yeah."

The man lets out a bitter chuckle. "Mine was pissed at me the other night. Said I never listen, that I take her for granted." He shakes his head, staring into his drink. "We went to bed mad. I thought we’d be fine." His throat bobs as he swallows hard. "She never woke up."

Simon freezes.

"Now she’s gone," the man mutters, voice breaking. "And all I got left is this pint and an empty fuckin’ house."

The words hit Simon like a bullet to the chest.

He shoves his glass away and stands so fast the stool scrapes against the floor. The man calls after him, but he doesn’t stop. He pushes through the door, out into the cold night, and starts walking—fast, then faster, until he’s almost running.

His heart pounds, breath coming quick. His mind is screaming at him—what if that was the last time? What if you don’t wake up? What if the last thing you remember of me is me walking out that door?

He can’t get home fast enough.

The house is dark when he gets back. For one horrible second, it feels too dark.

His hands are shaking as he unlocks the door and steps inside. "Love?" His voice is rough, too loud in the silence. No answer.

His stomach twists. He moves through the house quickly, checking the living room, the kitchen. Then he sees the faint glow of light from the bedroom. He exhales sharply, then makes his way there, pushing the door open.

You’re curled up on your side, your back to him, buried completely under the blankets. Asleep—or at least trying to be.

Relief crashes into him so hard he has to steady himself against the doorframe. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you waiting, doesn’t deserve to come back to you after walking out like that. But he can’t help himself.

He kicks off his boots, shrugs off his jacket, and crosses the room in quick steps. The bed dips as he climbs in, and before you can roll away, he’s there—arms wrapping around you, pulling you flush against his chest.

His face presses into the crook of your neck, his breath uneven. "’M sorry," he murmurs, voice wrecked. "I’m so fuckin’ sorry."

You stir, shifting slightly under his grip. "Simon—"

"Please don’t leave me," he breathes, words tumbling out too fast. "I love you, I swear it—I don’t wanna be angry, I don’t wanna fight, I just—fuck, I can’t—" He presses his lips to your shoulder, his whole body trembling. "I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you."

You’re fully awake now, turning in his arms to look at him. His mask is gone, his face open and raw in the dim light. His eyes are desperate, terrified.

Your chest aches. "I’m not going anywhere, Simon."

He exhales sharply, like he’s been holding his breath for hours. He cups your face, tilting your forehead against his. "Didn’t mean to walk out. I just—I needed time to think."

"I know."

You reach up, brushing your fingers over his cheek, his jaw. He leans into your touch like it’s the only thing keeping him sane at the moment.

"Stay?" you whisper.

His grip tightens around you, holding you like you might disappear. "Always."

------------------------------------------

Something similar happened with my boyfriend and me, and I just want to say this to the guys out there—fucking talk to your partners. Stop bottling shit up and actually communicate instead of acting like a little bitch.

@daydreamerwoah

[miltonthoughts]

I had this thought about Stanford on my mind, so I'm going to ramble on.

Imagine Ford experiencing some form of separation anxiety because he's been missing you for 30 years after being trapped in many dimensions. HEAR ME OUT:

He wraps his arm around you when you accompany him on missions, afraid that he'll lose you again. HE ALSO DOES THIS WHEN HE'S SLEEPING. THE MAN WILL WRAP HIS ARMS AROUND YOU WHEN HE SLEEPS, SCARED THAT YOU'LL BE GONE THE SECOND HE WAKES UP.

You always have to reassure him that you won’t disappear countless times whenever you leave the shack to do your things.

Of course, he does soon recover from this, but he still worries a little when you're gone for a while.

(This can also be reversed, I can see both happening.)

[littlelamy]

Rafe & Reader idea: He’s afraid of not being good enough for her and her realizing that she deserves better, so at a party, a guy talks to her (friendly) and he gets in his head not wanting to lose her. Not in a toxic way, but that night, he makes love to her to really show how much he loves her, being super clingy and needy, refusing to let go of her after

he can’t get the image out of his head.

you, smiling up at that guy. laughing, tucking your hair behind your ear in that way you always do when you’re a little nervous. it was nothing. he knows it was nothing. but the thought latches onto him, sinking deep, poisoning the edges of his mind.

he knows he’s not the best man. knows he’s rough around the edges, knows he’s not always as soft as he should be. and what if you wake up one day and realize you deserve better?

it terrifies him.

so now, back at home, in the quiet safety of your shared space, he’s gripping you like a man possessed. holding onto you like you might slip through his fingers if he lets go. his hands are hungry, dragging over your skin, mapping the familiar curves of you like he’s committing them to memory. his lips press over every inch of you, hot and desperate.

you feel the difference in him tonight—the urgency, the silent plea woven into every touch, every breath. his weight pins you beneath him, his broad frame caging you in, his thighs pressing yours apart with no room for protest. he buries his face in your neck as he pushes into you, stretching you open with one slow, aching thrust.

a choked gasp leaves your lips, your nails biting into his back. “God—”

he groans at the way you cling to him, the way your walls flutter around his cock, pulling him deeper like you were made for this, made for him. he doesn’t move right away, just stays there, filling you, stretching you, letting you feel every thick inch of him pressing deep inside.

“love you,” he whispers, over and over, like you might forget. like you might not know. “i love you so much—don’t wanna lose you.”

his hips roll, slow at first, teasing, dragging against that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. but it isn’t enough. his need is raw, overwhelming, clawing at his chest, and soon, slow isn’t an option. he thrusts harder, deeper, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room, each movement punctuated by the low, wrecked sounds leaving his throat.

you moan for him, gasping, your fingers threading through his hair, nails scratching against his scalp as you arch into him. “you won’t lose me,” you murmur, voice all honey and heat, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. “never.”

but the thought still lingers, gnawing at the edges of his mind, so he fucks you harder, needing you to feel it, needing you to understand. his grip tightens, one hand sliding down to grab your thigh, wrenching it higher as he drives into you, each thrust deeper, rougher, more punishing.

you cry out, your body trembling, your slick making it easier for him to bury himself to the hilt with every snap of his hips. he’s relentless, fucking into you like he can stamp his name into your very bones, like he can brand himself into your soul with every inch he gives you.

“mine,” he growls against your throat, biting down, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. “say it.”

you whimper, eyes fluttering shut, pleasure coursing through you in waves, leaving you breathless. “yours,” you gasp. “always.”

he groans, his cock twitching inside you, his rhythm faltering for just a moment before he picks up again, chasing the edge. his hands are everywhere—gripping your hips, pinning your wrists, cradling your jaw as he slants his mouth over yours, swallowing your moans.

you’re close. he can feel it in the way your body clenches around him, the way your moans break, turning into desperate little whimpers as he fucks you through it. he shifts, angling his hips just right, and you shatter, pleasure crashing over you so hard you nearly sob, your body locking up beneath him, walls spasming around his cock.

the tight, pulsing heat of you is too much, dragging him over the edge with a rough, broken groan. he buries himself deep, grinding against you as he spills inside, filling you with everything he has, everything he is.

even after, he doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away. his arms stay locked around you, his breathing heavy, his heart hammering against yours.

and when you try to shift, to move, he just holds you tighter, murmuring, “stay. just stay like this.”

so you do. you let him cling to you, let him press messy kisses against your temple, let him hold you so close it feels like he’s trying to merge you into him.

“you’re everything,” he mumbles sleepily, fingers tracing circles against your back. “don’t need anything else. just you.”

you kiss his jaw, soft, sweet. “i’m not going anywhere.”

and finally, finally, he lets out a breath, his body melting into yours, his grip still tight but no longer desperate.

notes: thank you for sending a request! 💗

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @rafedaddy01 @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafesbabygirlx @drewsephrry @lil-sparklqueen

[honeyhae-svt]

Hellooo 💕 can you do a headcanon where svt gets insecure about not being enough for their s/o

seventeen getting insecure about not being enough for you

tags / genre: seventeen reactions, seventeen smut, best friend au, seventeen x reader, seventeen as your insecure bf, insecure sex, rough sex, emotional sex, love bites, possessiveness, strong language, deep-seated insecurity, reader reassuring them through intimacy, seventeen headcanons, reader insert, smut warning, romance, warnings: explicit sexual content (smut, NSFW), (light) ANGST, suggestive and mature themes, strong language, rough & desperate sex, emotional intensity, lots of kissing & biting, slight jealousy/possessiveness, mentions of insecurity, heavy emotions, praise kink, overstimulation, crying during sex (soft but overwhelmed) – minors should not interact a/n: all hail anon for pushing this idea in my head. hope anon becomes satified with this sh1t. thankyou for the patience honey, anon. SEVENTEEN: "Baby, you know I'm all YOURS"

S.Coups (Seungcheol) – the overthinker

he keeps it to himself at first because he feels like as a leader (and as your boyfriend), he should be strong and stable.

but he gets quieter around you, more hesitant, like he’s holding back on being affectionate.

eventually, it all comes out when you catch him zoning out and ask what’s wrong.

"i just... sometimes i wonder if i'm giving you enough. if i'm enough for you."

needs you to reassure him with words and physical affection—once he feels safe, he melts into your touch and promises to work through it together.

the next thing you know, you’re pinned beneath him, his broad body caging you in, his cock stretching you wide with each deep, desperate thrust.

his hands are tight on your hips, gripping like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

his forehead presses against yours, breath ragged. “you’re mine, right? tell me—fuck—tell me I’m enough.”

the way he fucks you is possessive, slow at first, but when you start moaning his name, his control snaps.

hhe grunts against your lips, biting down on your shoulder, pounding into you like he’s staking his claim.

when you cry out, tightening around him, his arms lock around you, groaning as he fills you up. “don’t leave me—don’t ever leave me.”

Jeonghan – the fake nonchalant

plays it off like it’s nothing, but you can tell he’s different.

still teases you and acts normal in front of others, but there’s a certain distance in his touch, his words—like he’s afraid of getting too close.

probably tries to push you away before you can leave first.

"you could do better, you know?" he says with that signature smirk, but his eyes don’t match.

the moment you show that you're not going anywhere, he pulls you into the tightest hug and buries his face in your neck.

your back arches against the sheets, jeonghan’s lips trailing down your stomach, his fingers teasing between your thighs before he finally slides inside you, painfully slow.

his kisses are deep, intoxicating, his hands keeping you pressed to the bed.

“you’ll still want me tomorrow, won’t you?” his voice is soft, needy, but his thrusts are deliberate and deep.

he drags it out, making you feel every inch of him, watching you shudder beneath him.

when you whimper his name, his smirk falters—his insecurity creeping in again.

“say it,” he demands, fucking you faster, his nails digging into your thighs. “say you won’t leave me.”

Joshua – the one who tries to overcompensate

starts doing way too much—gifting you things randomly, complimenting you excessively, going out of his way to be the "perfect" boyfriend.

but you can tell it’s coming from a place of fear, not confidence.

he'd rather suffer silently than burden you, but one night, when you hold his hand a little tighter, he sighs and admits: "i just don't want you to wake up one day and realize you deserve better."

needs lots of reassurance and gentle reminders that he is the one you chose, and that’s enough.

this man is always sweet, always careful, but tonight? he’s needy, desperate, fucking you deep and slow, hands tangling with yours as he moans against your lips.

“do i make you feel good?” his voice is rough, his forehead pressed against yours.

he worships your body, trailing kisses along your jaw, biting down on your collarbone.

he lets out a shaky groan when you tighten around him, whispering brokenly: “i want to be enough for you. tell me i’m enough.”

when he comes, it’s messy, emotional, his arms wrapping around you, refusing to let go.

Jun – the overly self-sacrificing One

starts putting your happiness way before his own, to the point where he stops voicing his own needs.

thinks that if he just keeps making you happy, maybe he’ll feel enough.

you notice he stops sharing things about his day, about his problems, and when you confront him, he just smiles and says, "it’s okay, as long as you’re happy."

needs you to remind him that his feelings matter too, and that love isn’t about just making you happy—it’s about both of you being happy together.

he devours you, lips hungry, his thrusts fast and unrelenting, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he slows down.

his fingers dig into your hips, holding you open for him, his lips dragging over your throat.

“i don’t want anyone else touching you,” he confesses, voice dark and rough.

he fucks you deep, watching your reactions, groaning when your nails rake down his back.

his control breaks when you whimper his name—he groans, burying himself deeper, coming undone inside you.

he doesn’t move away, his arms locked around you, whispering: “you’re not tired of me, are you?”

Hoshi (Soonyoung) – the one who tries to distract himself

throws himself into work, practice, anything to keep his mind off of his own thoughts.

becomes extra hyper and affectionate in public, but when you’re alone, he’s quieter, more distant.

you catch him staring at you sometimes, looking at you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

when you finally confront him, he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "i just—i don't know if i can give you everything you deserve. but i want to try."

needs your encouragement and for you to remind him that love isn’t about being perfect—it’s about showing up every day, together.

hoshi’s hands are everywhere, his lips greedy against your skin, his cock slamming into you mercilessly.

“i’ll make you feel so good,” he grits out, hips snapping into yours, sweat dripping down his back.

his fingers are tight on your waist, his breath hot in your ear, “i need you to scream my name.”

when you do, his pace gets rougher, teeth sinking into your shoulder.

he moans against your skin, coming with a shudder, holding you so close it’s suffocating.

afterwards, his voice is barely above a whisper, “tell me i’m the only one.”

Wonwoo – the silent overthinker

won’t say anything, but you’ll feel it in the way he hesitates before holding your hand, in the way he looks at you like he’s questioning whether he’s worthy of you.

starts second-guessing himself, wondering if he’s interesting enough, exciting enough for you.

late one night, he finally whispers: "do i make you happy?"

the way he asks it so softly, so vulnerably, breaks your heart.

needs you to hold him, to tell him how much you love him—not for what he does, but who he is.

he will completely loses himself in you, his body pressed against yours, thrusts deep and slow like he’s trying to memorize the way you feel around him.

“you feel so good,” he rasps, his hands shaking as they grip your thighs.

he kisses you fiercely, swallowing every moan, his pace increasing as he groans your name.

“i don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, voice breaking, but his body tells a different story.

when he finally spills inside you, his arms wrap around you tightly, breath shaky against your neck.

he stays silent for a long time, then softly whispers, “promise me you won’t leave.”

Woozi (Jihoon) – The “I Don’t Want to Talk About It” One

completely shuts down—if you ask what’s wrong, he just shrugs and says "nothing."

starts pouring himself into work even more (which you didn’t think was possible).

he’s afraid of wasting your time—what if you could be happier with someone else?

but one night, when you just sit beside him in the studio, quietly holding his hand, he finally sighs and mumbles: "i’m scared that i can’t give you the kind of love you deserve."

needs you to gently break down his walls and show him that you love him for him, not for what he does.

his hands are firm on your hips, pulling you down onto him over and over, his jaw clenched as he fucks up into you with deep, precise thrusts.

"you could have anyone," he mutters against your lips, voice rough. "why me?"

his movements are desperate but controlled, his fingers digging into your skin as he drags you down harder.

when you whimper his name, his breath shudders, his lips crushing against yours.

"tell me i make you feel good," he demands, his cock hitting deep, making you cry out.

when he comes, he grips your waist so tight it stings, groaning into your neck, holding you close like he’s afraid to let go.

DK (Seokmin) – the one who blames himself

the type to smile through the pain but deep down, he’s struggling.

starts apologizing for everything—even things that don’t need apologies.

"i’m sorry i made you wait," "i’m sorry if i’m too much," "i’m sorry if i—"

until one day, you finally stop him and ask, "why are you apologizing so much?"

that’s when he breaks, admitting that he’s scared of not being enough, of you realizing you deserve better.

needs words of affirmation the most—he needs to hear that he’s enough, that he’s loved.

seokmin’s usual smile is gone, replaced with something raw, desperate, his body pressed flush against yours, thrusting into you with reckless abandon.

"i don’t want to be just your fun best friend," he groans, biting your shoulder, hips slamming into yours.

his hands roam your body, gripping your thighs, pulling you even closer.

when you moan his name, his control snaps, and he fucks you even harder, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room.

"tell me you see me," he pants, forehead pressed against yours, his thrusts turning messy.

when he comes, it's intense, overwhelming, his arms tightly wrapped around you, muttering against your lips, "i don’t ever want to lose this."

Mingyu – the one who tries too hard to prove himself

becomes extra—tries too hard to impress you, does the most unnecessary things just to make sure you’re happy.

but deep down, he’s scared that you’ll wake up one day and think he’s not enough.

one night, after messing up something small, he snaps at himself—"ugh, i can’t do anything right."

and that is when you realize just how much he’s been struggling.

needs physical affection—lots of hugs, forehead kisses, soft reassurances.

gyu is so needy, so overwhelming, his cock slamming into you, moaning openly as he buries his face in your neck.

his grip is tight on your waist, hips moving frantically, like he needs to claim you.

“you’re mine, right?” his voice is shaky, breathless, thrusts getting sloppier.

the moment you moan his name, he loses it completely, pounding into you harder.

when he comes, it’s deep, desperate, his arms locking around you like you’ll disappear.

“promise me you won’t find someone better.” his voice is so small, you almost don’t hear it.

The8 (Minghao)– the one who withdraws into himself

completely closes off, not because he’s mad, but because he’s overthinking everything.

spends a lot of time alone, trying to work through his thoughts, but the more he overthinks, the worse it gets.

one night, he finally confesses: "sometimes, i feel like i’m not enough for you. like you deserve more."

needs you to remind him that love isn’t about being perfect—it’s about choosing each other, every day.

hao’s fingers are tight around your wrists, pinning them above your head as his cock slides deep inside you, his pace slow, intense, overwhelming.

"do i feel real to you?" he murmurs, voice shaking, his breath hot against your lips.

his thrusts are agonizingly deep, dragging out every inch of pleasure until you're begging for more.

he leans in, biting your lip, his hips snapping forward so suddenly you gasp into his mouth.

"i need to know i’m not just someone who passes through your life," his voice is barely a whisper, but his body screams his desperation.

when he comes, he doesn’t pull out, just holds you so close, his lips trailing over your skin, silently begging you to stay.

Seungkwan – the one who tries to hide It with humor

cracks more jokes than usual, trying to cover up his insecurity.

you notice his laughs don’t reach his eyes the way they usually do.

he’ll probably joke about it first—"bet you’re getting tired of me, huh?"—but if you call him out on it, he gets quiet.

finally, he confesses, "i just don’t want to hold you back."

needs constant reminders that he’s not a burden, that he’s exactly what you want.

seungkwan, he crashes his lips into yours, hands gripping your waist, desperate to drown in your touch as he thrusts into you fast and deep.

"why do you even want me?" his voice breaks, his body shuddering as he pounds into you harder.

his moans are loud, whiny, gasping every time you clench around him.

his fingers tangle in your hair, dragging your head back so he can kiss your throat, your chest, anywhere he can reach.

"do you—fuck—do you actually want me, or am i just convenient?" he groans, his rhythm becoming erratic.

when he finally lets go, his moan is broken, his body collapsing against yours, pressing soft kisses to your temple, whispering, "please don't ever leave me."

Vernon – the deep tthinker

won’t say anything outright, but you’ll notice him staring off into space more, lost in thought.

starts questioning things—whether he’s exciting enough, whether he’s what you really want.

you have to sit him down and make him talk about it.

i just don’t know if I’m what you need."

needs to hear that he is enough, that you love him for exactly who he is.

bonon isn’t loud, he never really was, but when he’s inside you, when you’re wrapped around him so tight, he can’t hold back anymore.

his lips crash into yours, hands pinning you down, hips rolling into you so slow it’s torturous.

“fuck,” he moans, biting his lip, watching you fall apart beneath him.

“i need to feel you,” his voice shakes, his cock pulsing inside you as he presses his forehead against yours.

when he finally spills inside you, his arms are trembling, his breath uneven.

his voice is so quiet, but you hear it: “tell me i’m not imagining this.”

Dino – the young but emotionally mature one

tries to act like he’s fine, but you can tell he’s trying too hard.

eventually, he just says it: "i don’t know if i can give you everything you need."

needs to hear that love isn’t about having everything, but building it together.

his pace is relentless, deep and eager, like he’s determined to prove something, his cock slamming into you over and over until you’re a writhing mess beneath him.

"i can make you feel just as good as anyone else," he pants, pinning your wrists to the bed.

his voice shakes, insecurity leaking through, but his thrusts are unwavering, desperate.

"tell me i’m enough," he practically begs, his breath hot against your ear, his fingers digging into your thighs as he fucks you deeper.

he watches your expression intensely, groaning when you cry out his name, biting down on your shoulder to hold back his moans.

when he comes, he stays inside, pressing his forehead to yours, voice soft and pleading— "don’t ever see me as less."