#himself to sink into the hug and to allow himself to feel like maybe just maybe he can run away with hanners and abigail. imagine will

[rottentome]

I love rewriting mizumono

[ataraxiaspainting]

360-Degree Vision.

Yan Silas x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, non-con, oral (male receiving), forced infantilization, Silas calls himself Mommy because he's a weirdo, and "force feeding".

Word Count: 700.

OC and art pictured above belongs to amazingly talented @meo-eiru!! i really love her art, so be sure to check her out!! <333

*~*~*~*

Silas only allows autumn leaves and snow to fall where your feet don’t touch but your eyes can still see.

It’s an odd sort of shape, the barrier he has around his tree. It reminds him of those little sketches you do he puts by his bedside table. He read from a book that human mothers do that whenever their children give them drawings, though you never gave yours to him per se. More likely than not you were waiting for a more special occasion, but he found them in your toy box whilst he was tidying up from another long day of taking care of you. 

What a unique art style you have – he read in the same book that human children’s little doodles can be nearly unrecognizable from what they are supposed to be most of the time, so he doesn’t question how the circles you drew kept going around and around and leading to nowhere.

A snail’s shell, perhaps? 

The spirals seemed too large and too filled… 

He’ll give you points for creativity. 

Positive reinforcement was key with these kinds of things, or so he’s been told – if you ever ask for a pet snail, he’ll get one for you in little to no time at all.

*~*~*~*

“Baby,” Silas’ smile is smaller because of the concern he has for you right now. “You have to finish your dinner. It’s good for you. When you finish we can go see little mushrooms and squirrels, okay? Only for a little bit though,” His right hand is still above your head, squishing you down when your body seems to want to get up too soon. “Mommy doesn’t want you to get sick again…”

Despite Silas sitting down, he was still more than half your height – your knees sink further into the mattress both of you are on.

They are shivering so much but he doesn’t notice.

No, it’s not that he doesn’t care – he’s too busy flaunting his length and chest to you to pay attention to how you actually feel, wanting you to pick your poison once again; seeing this as necessary to your development.

Last time for yesterday’s meals you chose his cock – the day before that you chose his breasts.

The more you suck from him, the more you’re given treats after. Something resembling those colorful markers you used to get at the local dollar store, containers of blueberry yogurt you hope came from his village’s cows or some similar type of animal, a new dress he had sewn himself or had customized and bought from a nearby elf tailor.

“I’ll even bring some paper and those pencils you like drawing with, hm?” Silas continues as he scoots closer to you – he holds your hair so gently now, but whenever he cries tears of pure happiness the grip will tighten quickly. “Maybe you can see a snail up close for those little spirals you like doing.”

…

No matter how much you rebel and kick and scream, the elf wouldn’t move back from you – if anything it gives him more of a reason to come closer, so you can have more of his ‘love’. After only a little bit of time, you learned how to let the frustration out in a way that didn’t have Silas doting over you so suffocatingly – drawing spirals. You were told once by a friend they can be therapeutic in times of stress. You most likely will never see her again but you would want to hug her because it works. 

You hid them amongst the dolls and building blocks you were given in times you were alone – staring at them made you feel less lonely, made you feel like you had more of a choice in how you spent your waking hours.

You didn’t expect Silas to find them. He never checks your toy box because you tidy it up so often.

You don’t know how to explain your drawings in a way Silas will understand. Not that he understands a lot of things that come out of your mouth.

You just nod. Maybe drawing a snail’s body below those spirals can help you too.

“Good girl! Listening so well!” His smile widens and you can see his eyes getting watery already.

[allfearstofallto]

Can you imagine Sylus, who I consider to be the one who's love language is physical touch, with someone who just isn't physically affectionate?

Not that you don't like him, you're just not as touchy feely as he is. Maybe you grew up in environment that was more reserved, one where every touch had to have meaning. So you never did anything as rash as hug or kiss someone without a reason.

Sylus respects this. He respects everything about you. He understands why you are the way you are and knows that you can't help it, but he's growing desperate. He'll never force anything onto you that you don't want. He approaches you the way he would an actual kitten, starting with the tips of his fingers and seeing if you allow it before sinking into the feeling of you.

You don't touch without reason, Sylus remembers that. So he makes sure there's a reason for everything that he does. When he holds your hands, squeezing them in his larger ones, he brings them up to his chest, letting you feel the way his heart beats for you. When he peppers your face in soft passionate kisses, his lips will find your ear, where he'll whisper affectionate words of love, yearning, and adoration. His hands only touch your hips when he wants to pick you up. He plays with strands of your hair before styling it. All this because he respects your wishes.

Touch him of your own volition and he's over the moon, but he won't show such a thing on his face. Maybe a little smirk, but nothing more. And he'll never rush you, never make you touch him in the way he desperately desires to be touched. He lets you explore and discover his body, let's you find the places where your hands fit best. Anywhere your fingers graze him is good enough for him anyways.

"Having fun down there?" He'll ask, voice low and rich, but trembling with a bit of excitement.

"Hm?" You look up from your phone, only to notice you've rested your head against his shoulder. "I guess," you say, rather nonchalantly with a shrug, and your eyes are back on your screen.

He adjusts so that your head is against his chest, instead of his shoulder. His arm snakes around your waist, it's for your comfort, he tells himself, that's the reason for this action, but he can't deny the fact that his fingers are just mindlessly trailing up and down his hip. And your hand, you've rested it against his sternum, it a warm touch to his heart.

A chuckle rumbles through his chest, a soft sound that you barely notice. You're both touching without a reason.

[luveline]

If you’re still up for requests — could you maybe do one where peter or remus comes home after a visibly bad day and the reader misinterprets his behavior and assumes he’s upset with her instead ?? like she’s walking on eggshells, silently fussing around trying to figure out what she did, meanwhile all he wants to do is hold her and decompress 🥺☹️

absolutely no pressure! <33

“Oh my god.” Peter lets out a pained groan at the door, followed by the plastic crinkle of shopping bags hitting the floor. “My back. Jesus.” 

You look up in surprise from your book at the table. “I thought we were going together?” 

“I couldn’t face coming home and going out again.” He drags the bags to the fridge and pauses. “I figured you’d be okay with not having to go?” 

“Sure,” you agree immediately. He has a black cranky fog around him, you can practically feel it as you get up to help him unpack the bags. He doesn’t seem best pleased with you.

He rubs his eyes, rubs his mouth, and turns to the sink. He runs the faucet, pulling one of the glasses back off of the draining board to fill, and wincing at the harsh sound when he turns it too fast. Peter forgets his own strength every now and then —usually when he’s not feeling well. 

Peter gives you a funny look as you step into his space. You quickly step out of it and start to load groceries into the fridge and cabinets, pleased to find he’s bought the things you would’ve gotten yourself and even some things you’d have wanted but not allowed yourself. Maybe he’s not that mad after all—

“God damn,” he says, rolling an empty bag into a ball in his hand, “I forgot the fucking laundry detergent again.” 

“That’s okay–”

“It’s not okay, you’ve asked me to get it three times this week.” 

“I was just reminding you,” you say, fingers tingling with the potential of an impending argument. “It’s fine. We haven’t run out yet, we can squeeze another wash out of it. I’ll get some tomorrow.” 

He sits down in the chair you’d been sitting in and moves your book and plate of snacks aside, neither gentle nor rough about it. “Damn,” he says again, dropping his face into his hands.

“Pete…” 

His eyes must be sore by now he’s rubbing them so much, hands held to his eyes and fingers scratching into his hair. He tips his face toward the table and lets himself sit with whatever it is that’s getting him down. Me, you think worriedly. I shouldn’t have asked him to get groceries today. You knew he had a longer shift than usual, and that he’d want to do some Spidering afterward. 

You’ve sorry on the tip of your tongue when he lays his face heavily in one hand, elbow on the table barely keeping him up, and holds the other out toward you. Rejecting him doesn’t even cross your mind. 

“Fuck, I missed you today,” he says, taking your hand as soon as you offer it and dragging you toward him. You peer down at him with wide eyes as he wraps his arm around you, his nose quick to hide in the linen of your shirt. His voice tickles, “I just wanted to be with you. I knew this would make me feel better.” 

There’s a little dry barb at the back of your throat you can’t speak past. Peter doesn’t notice, rubbing his cheek in your side as he repositions you for optimal hugging. He lets out a self-pitying whine, second arm joining the first in a lock behind your back. “You smell amazing.” 

“I do?” you ask finally. 

“I think you’re just made for me, angel,” he says, voice dragging with fatigue. “You always smell good.” 

You squint with lips pursed, blinking in confusion as you bring your hand up to his hair. “Thanks for going to the store.”

“You’re welcome. I can’t function without groceries either, anyways.” He sighs with the particular Parker brand of lovelorn contentedness, a familiar sound. He makes the same noise when you’re tucked up in bed together on the weekends with nowhere to go, or holding hands on the subway travelling home, knee to knee or intertwined. “Can’t believe how quickly you make me feel better,” he murmurs. 

“I kinda thought you were mad at me,” you confess, matching his tone.

“You have some strange wires crossed in your brain,” he says. His sympathy and affection for you is palpable; his hand tracks a soft line down the curve of your back. 

“Yeah, I know. Do you want me to rub your shoulders?” you ask, pressing your face to the mop of his thick hair. 

He hugs you tightly. “You’re my dream girl.” 

[littlespoonevan]

your hand in my pocket to keep us both warm

post 8x08 because i'm SAD in a way that can only be eased with buddie hurt/comfort 💔 title from abstract (psychopomp) by hozier

-

Buck is the one to drive him to the airport because who else would it be?

It feels a lot like deja vu as he approaches the glass doors of Departures but his step only falters for a moment before Eddie’s hand is catching his sleeve at the elbow and leading him through them. It’s further than Abby ever let him get.

Eddie lets him go as far the security line and he almost looks regretful when he turns to face Buck.

Buck would like to think he’s handled this well so far. He’s been supportive, helped Eddie choose his new home, listened to his fears about his parents, reassured him about Christopher, promised to oversee the shipping of the rest of Eddie’s stuff next week. He’s done everything right.

It hasn’t made any of this feel less wrong.

They look at each other now, awkward in a way they never are, until Eddie drops his bag and pulls him into a hug without saying anything.

Maybe because there’s nothing to say. Buck’s heart has been lodged in his throat since he parked the car; he’s not even sure he could say anything if he wanted to.

Eddie’s arms around him are a familiar weight though so Buck allows himself to sink into them. To tuck his chin into the crook of Eddie’s shoulder and to fist his hands in the back of his jacket like if he holds on tight enough he might be able to convince Eddie to stay.

When Eddie does pull back he makes no attempt to leave the circle of Buck’s arms. Instead one of his hands goes to that same spot at the juncture of Buck’s neck – always the same spot – and when his thumb makes contact with the divot in Buck’s throat he seeks out Buck’s gaze.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Buck croaks, the tell-tale burn behind his eyes becoming more pronounced by the second.

“Like I’m Abby,” Eddie sighs. “Or Ali. Or Tommy. I’m not leaving you, Buck.”

Buck tries to laugh but it comes out too hysterical and Eddie’s hand tightens on his neck.

“I’m leaving,” he allows. “But I’m not leaving you.”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you,” Buck says, the words wobbling in the middle. His hands are still twisted in Eddie’s jacket.

“And you think I do?” Eddie asks with a half-laugh. “Who am I gonna talk to when my folks are driving me crazy? Who am I gonna talk to when I do anything? Besides, you think Chris will accept you not visiting at least once a month?”

Truthfully, Buck has no idea what Chris wants right now but he clings to Eddie’s words anyway.

“Everyone at work is gonna find me insufferable. It was bad enough that last time you weren’t there.”

Eddie laughs again, thumb brushing Buck’s neck seemingly absentmindedly. “No they won’t. And I’ll be on Facetime so much it’ll be like I never left.”

Buck ducks his head but nods anyway, gathering up the courage to say what he wants to say next. “I know you have to go,” he starts, steeling himself as he makes himself meet Eddie’s gaze. “But please don’t go forever.”

Eddie’s expression blanks, his mouth parting over nothing. Buck can only stare back, hoping that just this once it might be different. That he won’t get a, ‘Take care of yourself, Buck,’ and a hand to the cheek before the person in front of him disappears forever.

Eddie doesn’t touch his cheek. Instead he presses their foreheads together hard enough to hurt, hard enough to make Buck’s breath catch and rush out of him on a shaky exhale.

“I won’t. I promise,” Eddie breathes and his hand moves from Buck’s neck to the back of Buck’s head and Buck can’t help wondering for a moment what would happen if he closed the distance between them. If Eddie would kiss him back.

It’s not a thought he’s ever entertained before but he’s thinking it now and it feels…like it makes sense. Like an inevitability.

And what a time to have a realisation like that.

Eddie leans back then and Buck forces himself to unclench his hands, attempting to smooth out the back of Eddie’s jacket with trembling hands.

“You should go,” he says because Eddie won’t.

Eddie nods faintly in agreement and it looks like it takes every ounce of effort for him to take a step back. Buck picks up his bag for him, offers it to him, and tries for a weak smile so Eddie will know it’s okay. That he can go and Buck won’t cause a scene.

“I’ll call you as soon as I get to my parents place.”

Buck nods. “Give Chris a hug for me.”

“I will.”

Eddie starts looking towards the security line again and Buck blurts out, “Tell him I love him.”

Eddie looks back to him, a devastating smile of understanding on his face. “He knows already. But I will.”

Buck nods again and then there’s nothing left to say. Eddie turns to go and Buck does the same because he can’t watch until he’s out of sight. It hurts too much already and he can barely hold his tears back as it is.

He doesn’t need to watch himself get left behind again.

~

He’s just unlocking his car when his phone rings. He doesn’t check who it is as he climbs in, just shoves the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he reaches for his seatbelt.

“Keep me company while I wait for my flight?”

He straightens so quickly the phone almost falls into his lap but he catches it just in time. And he tries to laugh but he thinks it might come out more like a sob. “Keep me company on the drive home?”

“Always,” Eddie says like they’re driving home from work after a long shift.

Buck switches his phone to speaker mode and looks down at the keys in his hand, at the keys to the loft, Maddie’s place and Eddie’s house respectively, considering his options before turning on the ignition.

“So there’s the guy at the gate-“ Eddie starts and Buck lets the sound of his voice wash over him. Allows himself just one singular moment where he closes his eyes and holds his hand to his chest before he pulls himself together and drives out of his space.

Eddie is offering him a play by play of the guy at the gate who’s insisting his luggage is not chirping and Buck gets his breath back enough to make a quip about how that made it through the security scanner.

When he reaches the freeway it takes hardly any thought at all for him to take the exit that’ll get him to the Diaz house fastest.

He’s going home after all.

~

[reiding-writing]

Hi :)

Could I maybe get a two-for-one for your work, Deprivation? Maybe where reader takes Spencer home with them and they do some skin to skin cuddles and he just melts and sleeps for more than a plane ride?

Or if you don’t like that idea, just any continuation of Spencer being so afraid of touch but desperately needing it? I feel that in my soul.

I love your work so much, you’re beyond fantastic!

SALVATION — SPENCER REID!

after spencer gets some rest on the plane ride home, you offer for him to stay the night with you.

spencer reid x gn!reader | 1.0k | h/c | masterlist.

part one.

event masterlist.

a/n — thank you so much ml, i forgot how much i loved writing stuff like this, spencer needs so many hugs man

Your apartment was warm, a comforting contrast to the sterile jet and the cold night outside.

Spencer seemed out of place at first, standing awkwardly by the door as you set your keys on the table. You could see the fatigue in his eyes, the way his shoulders slumped as if the weight of the case still clung to him.

“Why don’t you get comfortable?” you suggested gently, motioning toward the couch.

He hesitates, lingering in the doorway like he’s intruding, like he’s unceremoniously encroaching on your space despite the fact that you’d insisted he spend the night at your apartment, insisted that he was going to get a good night’s rest even if it meant not getting one yourself.

It makes him feel bad. Guilty. You should be doing this for him, or feeling like you have to.

“Spencer,” You sigh, “Please,”

He reluctantly relents at the hint of desperation in your tone, toeing off his shoes and sinking into the cushions of your couch. His fingers twitched nervously, his mind still racing even in the quiet.

You brewed tea in the silence, not wanting to push him into talking if he wasn’t ready but wanting to offer him something—something to show that you cared, that you wanted him to feel safe and comfortable with you.

When you came back, you set the mugs on the coffee table, then sat next to him, close, but not impeding on his personal bubble.

The air felt thick with the unsaid, but you waited patiently, letting him come to you in his own time.

After a few minutes of silence echoed only through soft sips from your drinks, Spencer finally spoke, his voice small. “I… I can’t seem to turn my brain off. It’s like, no matter how exhausted I am, I can’t stop thinking about everything. It’s just… always there.”

Your heart ached for him. You could see how much he was carrying, how much he was trying to hold together on his own.

“You don’t have to do that tonight,” you said softly, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to keep holding it all together.”

He looked at you, his eyes glassy with exhaustion and something deeper. Vulnerability. “I don’t know how to… stop.”

You scooted closer, your fingers gently brushing his. “Come here,” you whispered, your voice gentle but firm. “Skin-to-skin contact can help calm your nervous system. Let me hold you for a while,”

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t pull away.

You were really pulling his own moves against him.

And you weren’t even wrong. It would indeed chemically help calm down his nervous system through releasing oxytocin and serotonin, not to mention promoting activity of the oxytocinergic system.

So there was no excuse to not listen to you.

Slowly, cautiously, he allowed you to take his hand and guide him toward you. You both shed your outer layers—he pulled off his sweater, and you slipped out of your own long-sleeved shirt, leaving the soft barrier of your undershirts between you.

You pulled him into your embrace, wrapping your arms around him as he rested his head against your chest, your warmth surrounding him.

At first, Spencer was stiff, as if unsure how to allow himself to relax into you. But gradually, the tension in his body began to melt.

Your hands stroked soothing circles on his back, your heartbeat steady and grounding beneath his cheek. You could feel the way his breathing began to even out, slow and deep, as if the weight of the world was finally starting to lift.

“You’re safe,” you murmured, your lips brushing the top of his head. “It’s okay to rest.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, his hands curling gently into your shirt as he allowed himself to surrender to the comfort you offered.

He pressed closer, his body seeking the warmth and safety that came with your touch, revelling in what he’d lost from you after the plane had landed back in D.C.

For the first time in what felt like forever, his mind began to quiet. The intrusive thoughts that normally plagued him began to fade, replaced by the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, the gentle hum of your voice as you whispered reassurances into the dark.

“I’m still so tired,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly as the weight of the admission hit him. “I know I slept on the plane but…”

“I know,” you whispered back, shaking your head softly and holding him tighter. “You don’t have to fight it anymore. Just sleep.”

And for the first time in weeks, maybe even months, Spencer allowed himself to let go. His body melted into yours, his breathing deepening as the exhaustion finally caught up to him.

Within minutes, he was asleep, completely relaxed in your arms.

You held him as he slept, your fingers still running through his hair, your heart swelling with a fierce protectiveness. He deserved this—this peace, this comfort—and you would give it to him for as long as he needed.

And as Spencer slept, you could almost see the tension lift from his features, his body finally at ease. He looked peaceful, truly peaceful, in a way you hadn’t seen in far too long.

You stayed there with him, letting him rest, knowing that when he woke up, you’d still be there, ready to hold him again. Ready to remind him that he wasn’t alone.

[moonstruckme]

hey lovely girl!!! i am formally requesting a james x depressed reader with lots of comfort if you’d like to write it!!! maybe reader is just like super overwhelmed by how sad and teary she feels and maybe a bit worried that james won’t get it but he’s so understanding and patient and kind and lots of comfort ensue, i feel like he’d be soo tender and gentle and when she’s crying just give the best hugs which i know we’ve discussed at length privately but it needs to be shared with the world

lots and lots of smooches,

rosa xxxx

Hi Rosa my love!! Thanks sm for your request, there's a bit of reader feeling guilty which I know we hadn't discussed but I hope doesn't hamper the experience for you

cw: talk of depression, self-loathing

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 780 words

You don’t know precisely how long ago you told James you were going to get ready for bed, but eventually he comes looking for you. He finds you drooped over the bathroom sink, a slow dribble of tears dripping from your nose. 

His arms are warm and solid as they come around your middle, squeezing just enough to let you know he’s there as he turns his head to kiss your face. 

“It’s okay,” James shushes you gently, warm nose to your warmer cheek. “You’re okay, sweetheart.” 

He doesn’t sound surprised to have found you like this. He knows you’ve been hurting lately, though sometimes you hate that he does. You’re steeped in gloom, sad and guilty and at times scared that it’s never going away. Sometimes it all converges on you, like now, becomes something that feels too dense to carry. James wasn’t made to deal with your melancholy. His caring makes you feel worse. 

You punish yourself in small ways. Not allowing yourself chapstick even when your lips crack and bleed. Staying away from any foods you really want. Forcing yourself to sit in feelings of guilt and worthlessness long past when they become unbearable. You’re not sure to what extent James is aware of it, but he makes up for it as best he can. He’s doing it now, soft kisses mushed into your jaw, climbing up to your hairline. 

“I’m sorry,” you croak out. 

An especially gentle press of his lips to your temple. “Don’t say that.” 

“I’m okay.” 

“It’s okay if you’re not right now,” he says. “I didn’t mean…I just want you to know that you’ll be okay, you know? It’s going to be. Let’s go to bed, yeah?” 

You think he means to sleep, but when you get on the bed James works his arms around you, drawing you in close, holding you tight. You worry sometimes that he thinks you’re crazy or overreacting, but it’s hard to hold onto that belief when he touches you like this, like he knows all the contours of your soul even when it aches. He fits himself to them perfectly.

You press your face to his shoulder to feel the warmth of his skin on your cheek. Tears slip past your lashes, and James encourages you with soft sounds and kisses to the side of your neck and murmurs of I’ve got you. 

He’s receptive to your needs. When your crying wanes, he stops squeezing you quite so fiercely and starts sweeping his hand over your back in broad strokes. The press of his palm has a tranquilizing effect, and you melt against his front, exhausted. 

You don’t know what to say. Thank you feels too small, and sorry isn’t allowed, but James doesn’t seem to have any expectations from you. He keeps rubbing your back until you bring your hands to his shoulders, ready to sit up, and then he brushes the tears from your face with his thumbs.

“It’s going to be okay,” he tells you. James has a sincere face. He means everything he says, and it’s easy to believe him when he looks at you like this, brimming with earnest conviction. 

You know he doesn’t mean it as a platitude, or that he’s going to somehow muscle his way through your feelings until you’re alright again, only as a simple reminder: You’ve done this before, and it’s hard, and it’s awful, but you’ve always come out of it. It’s never been forever. 

“Yeah,” you say. Your agreement sounds emptier than his promise did, but you know that when it comes to certainty James is more than willing to pick up your slack. “Sorry, I’m just tired.” 

James lets out an exasperated puff of air, though his kiss to your nose lets you know he’s not truly upset with you. “What did we say about sorry?” 

“It slipped out.” 

He hums happily at the edge of humor in your dry tone. Encourages you back into his arms and lays down so you’re on top of his chest. “I’m tired, too. Do you think if we both think really hard about the same stuff, we’ll show up in each other’s dreams?” 

You ponder this, the ache in your chest ebbed for the moment. “Depends on what you believe about dreams.” 

“I think it’s worth a try.” 

James talks you all the way to sleep, his hand moving over the curve of your spine until you’re heavy atop him, deep breaths whistling in and out of you. In the morning, he’ll put your chapstick on for you in the bathroom and flirt with you until you tell him what you really want for breakfast.

[cevansbrat0007]

A Friend in the Dark: Part I

Summary: Ari receives an unexpected call from you in the middle of the night. Takes place directly after the events in The Do-Over. And be sure to check out A Friend in the Dark: Part II!

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Sexual Fantasies, Allusions to Oral Sex, References to Home Invasion, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner, who helped me come up with the opening. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari runs an agitated hand through his already tousled brown locks before tossing a stack of documents on his desk. Leaning back in his seat, he finds himself wondering why he was somehow always the one who always ended up drowning in a sea of never-ending paperwork. 

At this rate he was never going to make it home. The last thing he wanted to do was spend another night sleeping on the couch in his office. Unfortunately, it was quickly beginning to look like his only option. Of their own violation, his tired eyes stray towards the desk drawer that holds all the takeout menus. 

Maybe he’d try that new Mexican joint over on Madison – the one that claimed to have the best tamales in town. It was a bold claim to be sure. But it was definitely worth investigating if only so he could– 

A sudden knock at his door jolts Ari out of his thoughts. How strange. Buck, Pixie, and the rest of the gang had left hours ago. And he was sure they’d closed up on their way out, which meant that he should’ve been alone. 

The knock sounds again, this time a little more insistent. Next thing he knows, the door slowly begins to swing open to reveal…

You.

The woman he’d left behind months ago. Far away, in the little rinky-dink town of Bell’s Creek. Or so he’d thought. But now here you were. Standing there looking like you’d just stepped off a runway, wearing a black, off-the-shoulder mini-dress that hugged your curves just right.  

Stunned into silence, all Ari can do is continue to gape at you. His mind races as you step into his office, a million burning questions hitting him all at once. 

What brought you here? How did you find him? Was everything okay? 

“You’re a hard man to track down, Mr. Levinson.” You purr before taking a seat on the edge of his desk. Unable to help himself, his eyes stray to the hem of your dress as it rides up, giving him a glimpse of your deliciously thick thighs. 

“Why are you here?” He stammers, his mouth going dry when you invitingly cross your legs.

And now he knew that you weren’t wearing any panties.

You offer him a delicate shrug. “I tried to stay away, I really did.” Stretching your legs, you draw his attention to your stiletto clad feet. “But it was just too hard.” 

Ari had never considered himself to be the type of man who was into feet, but that never stopped him from admiring your perfectly painted toes. Tonight they were a shiny, deep red that matched your manicure. 

“Look, Duchess…I–”

“Tell me you didn’t miss me.” Reaching over, you use two fingers to tilt his bearded chin. “That you haven’t thought about me since you left Bell’s Creek.”

“Every damn day.” He admits hoarsely. “But we can’t–”

“We can.” You softly interrupt, before sliding off his desk and sinking to your knees, forcing the bounty hunter to move his chair to allow you space. “I’ll show you. Give you a taste of how good it’ll feel to have me the way you’ve always craved.”

Ari’s pulse kicks up the moment he feels you rest your soft hands come to rest on either of his thighs. Meanwhile, his already impossibly hard cock is busy straining in his jeans, desperately seeking relief. His head tips back as he waits for you to do something – anything – before he resorts to embarrassing himself by begging. 

“Did you really think I didn’t know how bad you wanted me?” You lightly drag your nails over his impressive bulge, delighting in the way he shivers at your touch. “You wanted me from the moment I walked into that church.” You allow your hands to rove higher so that you’re now gently gripping his belt. 

“Yes.” His breathing is shallow and labored.

“But it wasn’t until you found me at my shop that day, when you got angry at the thought of me sleeping with Martin, that you decided you wanted to fuck me.” You slowly begin undoing the clasp. “Isn’t that right, Detective Levinson?”

“Y-yes.” Ari rasps, licking his dry lips. He groans low in his throat when you wrap a hand around his girth, freeing him from the confines of his pants. 

“How many times have you imagined this?” The question comes out both sweet and silky. “How many times have you lain awake at night fantasizing about what I'd sound like when I’m choking on your thick cock?”

“Shit, baby!” He hisses as you begin stroking him up and down, working him with each sensual flick of your wrist. “Every fuckin’ night – gah!” 

“Wanna know a secret?” You ask at the same time as your mouth slowly starts to descend, heading in the direction of his aching member. “I’ve been dying to taste you too.” You pause, stopping just short of taking the plump mushroom head between your lips. 

“I can’t wait to find out if you’re salty…or sweet.” Ari’s hips buck when you finally take him into your mouth, greedily sucking him down as if you’d done it a hundred times. Of its own accord, a large hand fists itself in your curls, forcing your head down and making you gag as you struggle to take more of him. 

“That’s it, Duchess. Don’t fuckin’ stop. Don’t…don’t…don’t…”

Ari’s House – 3:00am

Ari suddenly shoots straight up in bed, blinking rapidly as his bleary eyes work to adjust to the darkness of his bedroom. He scrubs a weary hand over his beard before vaulting himself out of bed and heading towards the bathroom. 

Without flipping the light, he immediately turns on the tap, splashing his face with water. He’s annoyed by the fact that you’d managed to find your way into his dreams yet again. As if it wasn’t enough that you already seemed to plague his every other waking thought, now he also had to worry about you disturbing him in his sleep. 

Although it had been days since you’d last spoken with each other, that hadn’t stopped him from keeping tabs on you. While he tried to tell himself he was just doing his due diligence, deep down he knew there was a little more to it. In his mind, there was nothing better than watching your hips sway as you unknowingly went about your day.

Especially when you were wearing those leopard print leggings you seemed so fond of, or better yet, a pair of denim shorts that perfectly hugged your ass. Sure, he was a fool. But some days he was beyond caring. He’d long since decided that you were the only good thing about this dingy little town anyway.

Ari flops back down on the bed with a disgruntled sigh. He had a feeling that he wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight, even if he could somehow convince his stubborn dick to cooperate. As he lays there, he finds himself wishing he would’ve gotten a chance to speak with you at the church potluck the other week.

At the time he’d been besieged by the townsfolk – mostly women – all of whom had demanded his attention. Meanwhile, you’d been content to stay huddled in the corner, picking at the food on your plate in a way that almost reminded him of a little bird. 

Closing his eyes, he wills his body to relax in hopes of reclaiming at least some of his inner peace. Only to jump when he hears his phone begin to ring from its place on his nightstand. 

Who the fuck was calling him at this hour?

Frowning when he doesn’t immediately recognize the phone number, he briefly hesitates before answering.

“Hello?” The greeting comes out a little gruffer than he intends.

“Ari?”

His world suddenly grinds to a screeching halt. Because while he doesn’t recognize the number, definitely knows the voice. 

He’d know your voice anywhere.

“Ari…are you there?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart. I–I’m here.” He gives a quick shake of his head as he attempts to get his mind to connect with his ears. “You okay?”

“I’m so sorry for calling so late. I really am, but…” There’s no missing the distinct hitch in your throat, even as you try to keep your voice low. “I think someone…” He listens as you trail off, most likely to try and collect yourself.

“You think someone is what?”

“I think someone is outside my house. I–I think they’re tryin’ to get in.” 

It’s at that moment when Ari feels all breath literally leave his body. Mostly because it was the last thing he expected you to say. Regardless, seconds later he’s on his feet, hastily throwing on his clothes.

“Where are you now?” His tone is short and clipped as he goes about collecting his things. 

“I’m locked in my room.” You whisper while struggling to keep the tears at bay. “I ran when I heard them scratching at the backdoor.”

“Good girl.” He grunts before putting the phone on speaker so that he can begin lacing up his boots. “You got somethin’ to protect yourself until I get there?” 

“I have a bat.” You supply helpfully, even as you huddle on the floor by your bed. 

“Baby, I meant more like a gun.” 

“Um, no. No.” You inwardly curse yourself for being so afraid of those damned things. Your uncle used to own one, but you’d foolishly gotten rid of it after he passed. ”I–I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Ari speeds down the stairs, taking them two at a time as he holds the phone to his ear. “I want you to stay right where you are, okay? Gimme your address.”

“Okay.” Your fear is so palpable, it’s almost paralyzing. But you at least have enough sense to remember where you lived. Thank goodness for that.

“Good girl.” Grabbing his car keys off his kitchen counter, the bounty hunter makes it out of his house and into his truck in record time. “I’m on my way. You call this into the station yet?” He asks, double-checking that his preferred gun is still in his glove compartment. 

“N–no. Because what if I’m wrong and–”

“But baby, what if you’re right?” He swiftly interrupts as his vehicle’s engine roars to life. “Look, I’m gonna hang up with you and call this in.”

“Please don’t go!” You cry, before slapping a hand over your mouth. 

“I swear I’m gonna call you right back. Right fuckin’ back, okay?” God, he hated to leave you – even for a second. But this was something that had to be done. “You have my word.”

“O–okay.” Is all you can muster as you clutch your baseball bat tighter to your just. “But please hurry.”

“I’m comin’.” He assures you as he backs out of his driveway, pulling onto the street. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. And don’t you dare open up that door for anyone but me. You hear?”

“Yeah.”

“Good girl.” The bounty hunter praises once more. “Just try and stay calm for me. I’ll be there soon.” 

Gritting his teeth, he ends the call before dialing the one cop he knew would be on duty tonight – Officer Milton. Knowing time is of the essence, he hurriedly relays the info to the one man before hanging up and phoning you back. 

Except you don’t answer. In fact, it goes straight to voicemail. When the same thing happens a second time, Ari gives up in favor of concentrating on the road. He’d be to you soon. And whoever was responsible had better hope that the police beat him to the punch. 

Otherwise the fine officers of Bell’s Creek would have a dead man on their hands. 

END PART ONE  

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[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

⌗︙・⚠︎ fuckbuddy blade becoming obsessed and possessive ⚠︎ ♡⸝⸝

The arrangement you have with Blade is simple. Meet up in secret when either of you is feeling horny, and when you're both satisfied, you can part ways until the next time. No strings attached whatsoever. It's the perfect little arrangement for someone like Blade, and you get to enjoy having the best sex you've had in a while.

But of course, someone like Blade isn't so simple.

Kisses aren't allowed, they never will be. But that doesn't stop Blade from tracing his lips against your skin at the end of another vigorous round with him, or when he hugs you against his chest, trapping you against the bed. No matter how many times you squirm away or reprimand him for getting too cozy with you, he doesn't listen. He never listens.

The hickies and bites that Blade leaves all over your body are a huge pain, especially when he leaves them in more noticeable spots. He's begun to bite so hard that he's drawn blood, teeth breaking past your skin and leaving you momentarily frozen at the pain. But Blade has found a way to twist that pain into pleasure, and it scares you. It scares you that your body has become so susceptible to change, so quick to morph itself into whatever Blade desires.

Every time you move, it causes you to wince from the stinging that pulses across your skin. Something gnaws at you from inside the pit of your stomach when you see the way Blade looks at you, covered in his marks. His gaze feels so wrong—you swear you can feel his stare even when you're not with him, creating a sinking feeling deep within your stomach— like there is just something... twisted just festering deep inside of him.

He's starting to make you second guess becoming fuckbuddies with him.

Blade grows bolder with each of your meetups, using his immense strength to pin you down so you can't run away. He grows more... unsettling. The things that he says as he's pounding into you unnerve you once the pleasure dissipates and clarity begins to sink back into your once-fucked out mind. How you're all his, how nobody else but him can ever satisfy and touch you like he can, how he'd gladly keep you all to himself if he could, how—

How he can longer live without you anymore, the thrill and addiction of watching you beneath too much to simply cut off.

"Bla—" The faint whine of his name is quickly swallowed up by calloused lips against yours. It takes you a few seconds to process what's happening, to fully realize that Blade is kissing you. But once it sinks in, your immediate reaction is to squirm, to try and pry yourself away from the man above you.

No matter how much you struggle against him, Blade doesn't budge, holding your bare body hostage beneath his as he continues to fuck you into the mattress. The unrelenting good is weakening you, destroying your resolve to push him off, to yell at him and ask him what the hell is wrong with him.

You're becoming too weak to fight him off, and the frenzied kiss is making it so hard to breathe. Your body has become so accustomed to Blade's touch, so used to welcoming him without so much as a second thought. He has twisted your body into something he can claim.

Tears well up... the tears spill over, and you simply close your eyes. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, because you know that he loves watching you snivel and whine more than anything else. But a small, morbid part of you wants to open your eyes, to see the face of the man ravaging every single part of you with primal hunger, to—

No... maybe it's a blessing in disguise that your eyes are closed now. Because you won't have to see the sick darkness that swirls in Blade's red eyes, the utterly maddening glee as he forcibly kisses you. Because you won't have to see the way his entire body, in all of its brokenness, shudders as he finally has a taste of your lips. Because you won't have to see the way his chest heaves so deeply, his heart beating so rapidly that it may break past his ribcage, spilling forth all of his blackened love and twisted obsession. Because—

Because you won't have to hear his sick thoughts, the goal of finally claiming you surely come to its rotten fruition.

© latimeriafellfromheaven

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . UNFAIR WE’RE NOT SOMEWHERE MISBEHAVING ; — how blue lock boys react to you sending them a nude at practice.

FEATURING: nagi seishiro, bachira meguru, itoshi sae, itoshi rin + mikage reo.

warnings: f!reader, all characters written 22+, teasing, possessiveness, bachira sends some back. note: it’s been so long since i’ve done some hcs but aaaa i wanted to do these so hope u guys enjoy &lt;3

✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO

nagi’s body feels heavy as he rests on the bench during training, offering himself a few moments of slacking off before the rest of the team are on his ass again to get moving. but it’s just enough time for him to watch the way the little notification from you pops up just as he unlocks his phone, letting the nozzle of his water bottle rest between his lips as he clicks.

but he almost whimpers when a few moments later his screen is consumed by a pretty little photo of you in his shirt, draped in the oversized material despite the way you’ve pulled it up over your tits — allowing him to see the way you’ve opted for only that and a pair of pretty panties.

nagi’s suddenly glad that he’s at training so he can play off the flush and heat of his cheeks as exasperation, but the throb of his cock is heavy underneath the tight fabric of his training shorts. he still knows he’d rather be at home with you — lips latched around your tits so he can suckle blooming marks into the skin as his hands push underneath the hem of your underwear.

“no fair, pretty thing.” he mumbles underneath his breath as he sends you a cute little emoticon back, signature little :x face that only seems to spur you on as you send another — fingers resting between your thighs as you sink into the comfy sheets of his bed.

sei <3 : such a pain, know i can’t touch you yet.

nagi types back quickly as the thick muscles in his legs spread, readjusting the suddenly restrictive fabric before he’s sending you a quick, lazy selfie back. the snowy peaks of his bangs are messy and slightly wet with sweat as it falls over his sleepy, lidded gaze but the want is apparent in his features despite the cute pout he wears. like a silent little plea not to go too far without him, having to leave you in bed without him was so bothersome already.

but just as you reply with a little but i miss you, sei he almost jolts when reo calls his name back onto the pitch — trying to settle his own heavy breathes and the racing of his heart as he allows himself another quick look at the pretty photos you sent him. but maybe if he scored five more goals they’d let him off early, he’d score ten if it got him home fast enough to feel the press of your skin under his palms and the hug of your body against his as he types out a quick reply, suddenly driven and motivated after his little break.

sei <3 : hey, come on. gotta wait for me, angel.

✩ ˛˚ . BACHIRA MEGURU

normally it was bachira randomly sending you nudes throughout his day, after workout selfies or just random photos of himself where you can see him naked in the mirrors dotted around the locker room in the background. but today, you wanted to be the one to catch him off guard — knowing practice has ended and he was probably getting ready to come home already.

are you done practice, bachi? your little message reads and he’s already grinning as he types out a reply before it’s followed by a photo of your pretty pussy, folds spread and already wet like you’re luring him home. he giggles before he almost moans, so fucking shameless as the rest of the team still clear out their things after their shower.

but it’s almost perfectly timed with the way bachira’s just finished washing himself off, letting his towel fall and pool around his feet before he’s walking back into the showers — the last of his teammates clearing out and thankfully missing the way he’s already rock hard because of you.

bachi <3 : you’re so cute, baby. lemme see a lil more, m’kay?

“mhm— so mean teasing me~” he sings to himself as he gives his cock a few slow strokes, whimpering before he’s taking a quick selfie in the fogged up mirror in the locker room. his hair is messy and his smirk is smug, but even through the hazed glass you can still see the length of him.

but bachira fucking throbs when his own photo is immediately followed by another from you, your fingers deliberately pressing against the intimate skin between your thighs — so he can’t see the way your swollen clit is probably yearning for him to bathe it in needy lavs and rolls of his tongue before he’s closing his lips around it and suckling languidly. but he knows just how to get what he wants.

bachi <3 : 1 new attachment.

the video is short but just enough for you to see the way he’s angled the camera above him, letting you see the way his pretty abdomen twitches with every needy squeeze of his fist around the sensitive glands of his cock as he pants. his amber gaze is narrowed and focused on the camera as his next moan stretches into another cheeky smirk. “come on, baby. touch it a lil for me, mhm.. lemme see it— please~”

✩ ˛˚ . ITOSHI SAE

you should’ve known better, sae taught you better than to tease him while he was at practice — he was already so unforgiving on the pitch that the last thing he needed was something to make him even more frustrated. so his fingers twitch into the side of his phone when the first notification he opens during break is you still lying in his sheets, wearing nothing but the fabric of the comforter over your body.

he knows you’re bare because that’s how he left you — he’d spent all night with his bare chest pressed against yours after he’d lost himself in the tight hug of your cunt before bed. he’d basically fucked you to sleep despite the soft, chaste kiss he’d pressed to your temple before he left — a contrast to the carnal desire his rough pace held lastnight. but this is how you thank him?

sae <3 : what do you think you’re doing?

sae’s reply is sharp despite the way he finds himself taking another look at the photo, letting his sharp gaze crawl along the exposed skin of your collarbones and shoulders before it falls to where the blanket just hides your tits. he already feels so wound up, so eager to get this practice done and over so he can remind you to behave.

but then you reply once more with a cute, sleepy looking selfie and it’s insane the way he wants to ruin you — to have your drowsy lidded gaze decorated with tears as he reads your little i just woke up! how’s practice? his cock throbs and he can almost hear the dreamy lull your voice would take with the innocent little question, he wishes he could’ve kissed you awake and let you feel just what you do to him before he left — maybe then you’d be good for him.

sae <3 : so you woke up and decided to tease me, hm?

sae’s next text is driven by the sudden weight of his cock in his uniform and the way desire twists in his abdomen — he’s pretty sure his aura has changed completely, to something darker as he watches the manager hesitate to tell him break is over even if for a second when it brings his sharp gaze away from his phone.

another vibration of his phone against his palm and he knows you’re gonna pay for this when the next notification is you having pushed down the comforter — letting him finally take in the shape of your tits that are still littered in the marks and bites he decorated them in last night. he stretches out the ache in his neck before he offers you another final reply as he burns the image into his mind, tense as he swallows roughly and returns to the pitch.

sae <3 : i’ll deal with you when i’m home, sweetheart. behave until then.

✩ ˛˚ . ITOSHI RIN

you always thought it was amusing to tease rin, maybe it was the way he tried so desperately to hold down his need for you — to pretend you didn’t have as much of an effect on him as you actually do. you were his and although you knew how seriously he took practices you always thought it was fun to get him a little more riled up — maybe because he always made sure to fuck you into the mattress when he got home.

you always know he’s on break because he always makes sure to text you, wondering if you’re awake or if you’re still in bed but today you’d woken up as he’d left, already missing the hug of your huge boyfriends frame around your figure and the press of his cock into your lower back.

so you only think you’re being considerate, like an offer to help him out with the frustration he’s probably still swallowing down at practice. it’s instantaneous, the way rin’s gaze turns darker when he gets the first glimpse of your body in the photo you send him — his sheets tangled between your legs as his shirt rides up your body to reveal the curve of your tits and swell of your ass underneath.

rinnie <3 : what’re you trying to do? anyone could’ve seen this.

his jaw is clenched tight as he types out a reply, gritting his teeth as his pretty features drop into a frown — you’d think he was mad, he is — mostly because he can feel the dangerous throb in his cock that’s already straining against his practice shorts. he almost growls at your ‘innocent’ little reply that only consists of a good morning rinnie <3 followed by another, lewder angle as your drool worthy thighs spread.

rinnie <3 : i don’t like people seeing what’s mine.

rinnie <3 : you belong to me.

it’s insane, the effect you have on his well trained body — it’s almost lukewarm the way he’s unable to control himself, suddenly too warm underneath his clothes and he’ll tear this field apart if it means it gets him home to you faster. he’ll have you crying on the end of his cock as soon as he sinks into you, every snap of his hips making your body tremble — as will your lungs when his hands grab and knead at your body.

i know, i’m yours “fuck—“ rin grits as he feels the heat of his need for you lick at the base of his spine, he feels warm around his shoulders and if he squeezed his phone any harder he’s convinced it would shatter. but he’s so fucking hard, already wound up at the memory of those same words falling from your pouty lips everytime his cock grazes along the sweet spots inside of you, like a hormone-drunken mantra that only pushes him to fuck you deeper, rougher until he’s all you fucking know.

rinnie <3 : this game won’t take long. don’t move until i get home.

✩ ˛˚ . MIKAGE REO

reo was obsessed with you, truly — it was almost impossible for him to leave you alone in the mornings he had practice, finding himself squeezing and palming at your body as he kissed you goodbye. his pretty little girlfriend who felt so perfect under his touch, who was so responsive when he made sure to kiss your tits goodbye too.

so it’s almost encouraged when he’s barely even there yet and his phone vibrates, a smug smirk resting on his lips when the first good morning message he receives is a pretty little photo of your body — nipples probably still wet from his spit as your hands palm at each. he loved the responses he could pull out of you, almost using them as a way to hide just how needy he was for you.

reo <3 : oh? you miss me already, bunny?

reo’s reply is teasing despite the way he has to press his free palm against his cock — repositioning it so the sudden bulge in his sweats wasn’t so obvious considering he still has to change when he gets to practice. but you were pretty, something that was all his and it was perfect — especially when his text is accompanied by another with your hand pressed between your thighs with a lil mhm, need you back.

reo <3 : you gonna let me spoil you when i get home, yeah? ‘s that what you want?

fuck— he’d let you devour him, to let you use him for your own selfish needs as you lure him between your legs, your hands twisting in his hair as you grind and smear your pussy along his mouth. yeah, doesn’t feel as good when it’s not you. you reply and he smirks, smug as his cock twitches in his sweats, pre-cum smearing along the dampening fabric as he covers his face with his palm.

reo <3 : you can do better than that, bunny. think you can hold out?

he hopes he can, reo wants nothing more than to turn around the car and come back to you — to cover you in even more marks and brands, so everyone knows that you’re his pretty little possession. he knows he can’t but you’ll wait for him, he’s unintentionally broken you that way, spoiling you in the pleasure that only he can give you as you type out another little mhm, hurry though :( followed by a short little video of your fingers sinking into your walls, wishing it was his.

reo <3 : how ‘bout you lemme see more then? wanna see what’s waiting at home for me.

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Megumi an ass man confirmed

Head Canons!!! LETTS GOO!!!

CW: Sexual themes

Megumi never prides himself on being professional. Hardly ever listens to instructions unless it benefits him in some way and chooses to do things based on his own conscious. However, even he agrees that it’s unprofessional of him to stare at his classmate. Specifically, your ass.

This man can’t help himself though. He loves the curve of your figure, the ratio of your ass to your waist, the wide swing of your hips, and the thick juiciness of your cheeks in too tight leggings, all coming down to press against perfectly shaped thighs as you walk.

He also thought himself as to not being like those two idiots, never spending a prolonged time on the physical appearance of others but damn if Itadori wasn’t right about a nice ass.

Megumi didn’t think this way about you at first, not until he got to know you. Now, he can’t fight it whenever you’re walking ahead of him and his eyes wander down to scope out the faint panty line hidden behind your clothes, digging and hugging into your cheeks.

He’ll wonder how it feels to touch you, to squeeze and sink his fingers into your rounded buttocks. Maybe even spank you. He never wondered if he liked spanking, never thought about it, but now the action seems very tempting whenever you bend over near him.

Megumi will never say as much about how he stares, curses under his breath whenever someone tries to talk to him when he’s more busy watching you, afraid that they’ll notice that his eyes are busy less than somewhere appropriate.

He’ll also never say much about how his pants tighten whenever you back into him and how he fights to hold his hands at your hips whenever you – rarely – talk him into being your designated and going to the club to dance and you sway and grind against him.

When he’s finally allowed to touch it, touch you, he’s all hands on desk. Sliding his hands into your back pockets or putting his hand up your skirt, rubbing and pinching at your ass casually before pulling you down on top of him, settles large calloused hands on your rear, and begins to palm circles into it.

There’s so much teasing from you at first and so much denial and huffing from him whenever you’re in public and he’s too embarrassed to do anything more than look.

In the comfort of more familiar areas or when he’s sure no one is paying too close attention, he goes out of his way to move you to the side whenever he needs to get by; his hands at your hips, thumbs pressing at the side of your ass, pretending to casually shuffle you over just enough for him to squeeze himself between you and the door frame when a simple “excuse me” would have sufficed. But that wouldn’t be as fun, and he certainly likes the excuse to touch you.

Being the big spoon is almost a must for him when he wants to feel your figure pressing back against his, always adjusting and pushing on you before holding you close enough to feel your ass against his crotch. It’s warm to him, intimate, and a bit of a turn on. The position always leads to the feeling of his hard arousal pressing against you in the morning.

He absolutely loves to doggy-style you when he feels like being rougher and in control. He watches the bonce of your ass back against his lap, the jiggle with each of thrust of his hips before he tightly presses a hand to your lower back.

And he discovers, he does very much like spanking.

[andvys]

If you’re taking requests (and if you’re not totally ignore me) maybe a hurt comfort with Eddie? Like maybe the readers been sinking further into their head because they deal with anxiety and repetitive thoughts and no one in the party seems to notice except Eddie who is softer and more coddling?

You will be loved E.M.

Warnings: slight angst, anxiety, mentions of depression, mentions of Eddie almost dying, mentions of Steve's trauma, fluff

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Word count: 2k

stranger things masterlist

-

You never had it easy in life, anxiety has always been a big part of you, ever since you were a kid, you struggled with your own thoughts, with fears that you couldn’t control and with things that you probably overthought. Whenever you tried to open up and talk about it, you got dismissed or worse, pushed away, especially by people you considered friends. 

As you got older, you learned to keep things to yourself, to not talk about them, knowing that you will just be ignored, misunderstood or pushed away again. 

Some days it’s easy to dismiss your thoughts, to distract yourself and to think about other things. You always wear a smile on your face and show everyone how happy you are, even when you’re not. 

You have amazing friends now, ones that you went through hell and back with. You know that they would never push you away or ignore you and your struggles, yet your fears always keep you from opening up to someone. 

It’s easier to keep quiet. 

You know that Steve is struggling with everything that happened. He acts like he is fine when he really isn’t. He has no one to come home to, no one to comfort him, no one to make him feel safe. He experienced trauma, too much of it. He keeps his feelings to himself, pretending to be okay, he is lying to everyone and to himself. Just like you do. 

Maybe it’s bad to look up to him when you know how much he is suffering in silence but you take him as an example. 

Keep quiet and pretend that you’re okay for the sake of others and for yourself..

Though when things get truly bad and your thoughts and your fears take hold of you, you can’t continue to act like you’re okay, you can’t continue to smile and waltz around happily, showing everyone how ‘good’ you’re feeling. 

You force that smile on yourself, you force that laugh or that giggle, you force yourself to show up, you force yourself to show them that you are still okay. And you are relieved to see that no one notices how much you are struggling. 

At least that’s what you think. 

Eddie notices. He always notices everything about you. 

He knows when you are happy and he knows when you’re not. 

He knows when a smile is genuine and when it isn’t. 

And right now, he knows that you are pretending. 

The Wheeler’s are on vacation– well, Ted, Karen and Holly are. Nancy stayed at home and after much convincing they allowed Mike to stay behind as well. Tonight, the whole party is here for movie night. 

Eddie, who had been excited for this night all week, wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug the moment you walked through the door, he kissed your cheek and squeezed your sides, making you giggle. 

That was a genuine giggle and so was the one when he surprised you with your favorite snacks that he got when he stopped by Big Buy’s just to get you the things you love. 

Eddie might not be able to afford much but he spoils you with little things whenever he can, you are friends but he treats you like you’re his girl. He takes care of you, he makes sure you eat and drink enough, he reminds you to bring your jacket whenever you go out together but in case you don’t, he always brings one of his hoodies– just for you. He gets you little presents every now and then, whether it’s a cute stuffie that reminds him of you or a pretty necklace, anything he sees that he thinks you might like, he will get it for you. 

He loves spoiling you, he loves paying attention to you. 

Eddie always keeps a close eye on you and he always makes sure that you know that you can come to him, for anything. Whether it’s just to talk or to spend time together, Eddie is always here for you, anytime. 

Tonight, he keeps an even closer eye on you. When he stopped by your workplace to bring you your favorite coffee and pastry, he had noticed that your eyes were glassy, a little red rimmed and filled with sadness– you were crying. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into a hug and ask you if you are okay but he didn’t want to push you. 

Dustin, who claimed the spot next to you continuously tried to make you laugh during the movie, you did laugh and while the teen was proud of his jokes and of making you laugh, Eddie knew that you were forcing it. You didn’t even pay attention to the movie, your eyes looked distant, your mind was elsewhere. 

Max asked if you were bored to which you shook your head and gave her a small smile, she offered you the snacks that Eddie got you but you declined. 

Finally, you excused yourself during the second movie, no one really paid attention, everyone was too focused on the fight scene that erupted on the screen– you waited for this moment, waiting for everyone to be distracted so you could make an escape without getting unwanted attention. 

Eddie’s eyes follow you, watching you walk out of the house and into the garden, you close the patio door behind you. He gives you a moment to yourself before he decides to follow you out. 

He finds you sitting on the swing chair, looking up at the starry sky, your toes are touching the grass, your hair is flowing from the wind, even from a distance, Eddie can see that you are freezing, it’s a chilly summer night. Instantly, he takes his sweater off and walks towards you. 

“You never bring a jacket do you?” 

You flinch a little, lowering your head and turning towards him, your sad eyes lock with his but a smile tugs at your lips, “you know me.” 

He chuckles, walking closer to you, he offers you his black sweater. You shake your head, “I don’t want you to get cold–”

“Sweetheart, I’m not the one wearing a sundress,” he says, raising his brows as he looks down at your cute dress, “it’s cute and you look very pretty but you must be freezing in that tiny thing.”

You blush at his words, breaking eye contact, you look down at his sweater and grab it, gladly putting it on. Warmth and Eddie’s scent embrace you, it makes your heart flutter and long for him even more. 

He smiles to himself, his heart is soaring whenever he sees you in his clothes. 

Sitting down next to you, he turns to you, “is the movie too boring for you?” He asks as he stares at your side profile, your skin is glowing beneath the moonlight, the urge to brush your hair back and kiss your cheek is so strong, “cause it’s definitely too boring for me,” he jokes, making you laugh. 

“Are action movies not your thing?” 

“Some of them are but I’m more into horror,” he shrugs, giving you a cheeky smile. 

“Me too,” you smile. 

“We should have a movie night by ourselves, just binge on horror movies, eat pizza and pretzels–” 

“Of course we can never forget about the pretzels!” You laugh. 

His eyes light up at your genuine laugh, “you know it, they’re my favorites.” 

“You’re obsessed,” you chuckle. Still staring into his eyes that look even more beautiful than the stars in the night sky, “I’d love to have a horror movie night with you,” you smile. 

His heart skips a beat as excitement rushes through him. It’s not that you have never hung out alone before, there were a few times but mostly, you always hang out in groups and Eddie has been waiting for a chance to be with you alone, so he can shower you with more love. 

“Yeah?” 

You nod, “yeah,” you whisper. 

“Cool,” he says with a big smile on his face, one that makes you feel at ease. 

Eddie scoots a little closer to you, he looks into your eyes. He can see the glint of happiness, the one that has been missing before. He reaches for your hand and as he turns it around, you instantly intertwine your fingers with his making his heart swell.

Even before he joined your friend group and became a big part of your life, he crushed on you hard. You were always the girl he had his eyes on, you were always the one he was excited to see whenever he walked into the hell hole that people call school. He is pretty sure that he failed too many tests because he was too busy staring at you. 

“How are you, sweetheart?” He asks as he squeezes your hand. 

The question isn’t half hearted, it isn’t forced or just a conversation starter, it’s a genuine question because he wants to know what you really feel like, he wants to know because he cares. He always cared. Eddie was always here, he was always the one who take care of you, the one who always noticed when you weren’t feeling well, the one who always did everything to show you how loved you are and as you think about all the moments, he was there to make you feel good, you suddenly feel tears welling up in your eyes. 

His eyes widen a little when he sees the tears, when he notices the quivering lip, when he feels your tight grip on his hand. You don’t have to say it, he knows you are not doing well and as you start crying, he doesn’t even hesitate to pull you into his arms. 

“Oh y/n,” he whispers as he picks you up and pulls you on his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around your form. You bury your face in his neck and put your arms around him, crying softly as he holds you. 

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he whispers, rubbing your back softly, “you’re not alone, I’m here.” 

Your quiet sniffles break his heart just the way your sobs did that night when he almost died as he laid in your arms. You were there, you gave him the strength that he needed, you saved him, you took care of him, you never left his side and now he will do the same for you. 

He kisses your shoulder and plays with your hair, whispering some reassuring words into your ear, trying to ease your pain, trying to comfort you as best as he can and when you calm down, you pull away to look into his eyes. 

Eddie cups your cheeks, wiping away your fallen tears, he pulls you closer, “you don’t have to hide your feelings, baby,” he whispers as he presses a soft kiss to your damp cheek, “I’m always here, no matter what,” he kisses your other cheek, “I don’t want you to keep things to yourself,” he kisses your forehead, “you were there for me, so let me be here for you now,” he says as he kisses your nose, making you smile a little, “you’re my girl, let me take of you.” 

Your glassy eyes meet his, you notice the blush on his cheeks, the hopeful look in his eyes. 

“I’m your girl?” 

He blinks, smiling nervously, “i-if you want to be,” he whispers shyly as his heart begins to race, just like yours does. 

“I would love to be your girl, Eddie Munson.” 

His smile grows bigger, happiness rushes through him, his eyes light up and he looks giddier than ever. He grabs your cheeks harder and pulls you closer, “my girl,” he whispers before he slams his lips against yours, pulling you into a sweet and passionate kiss, one that fills you with warmth, hope and love. 

Eddie holds you tighter than before, he pours all the love he has for you into the kiss, you can feel his happiness and that alone shows you will be okay eventually. 

You have him by your side, that means that you will always be loved. 

[resident-idiot-simp]

Distance is pain

(x)

Logan had always been used to being distant the X-Men never seemed to care maybe even appreciate the distance he kept from them. Sure there were a few exceptions but for the most part, people preferred to have him at a distance.

However, for the first time in his life, this was not the case anymore. Wade always wanted him near and within reach. It freaked Logan out, to be honest, and he wasn't sure how to deal with this. He kept trying to keep a distance between them because surely this was what Wade actually wanted.

He kept doing this and kept doing this every time Wade expressed a desire for him to be and stay close be that physically or emotionally. This didn't work if course because if Logan did this Wade would run off and push him away. Wade thought he wanted this but he didn't no one really did.

Or at least he thought that until Wade started backing off and reseeding into himself. He seemed...smaller... So unlike what Logan had gotten used to. It felt wrong oh so wrong. Wade stopped speaking to him as much and it was affecting Logan more than he thought it would. The whispers in the back of his head telling him how much of a monster he was were back.

It was horrible and he didn't know why. Or he didn't until one day when he had come back from walking Mary to the sight of Wade on the couch. He was picking at his skin and muttering to himself and if it wasn't for Logan's enhanced hearing he wouldn't have heard any of it.

"You fucking idiot of course he doesn't want to be around you why would anyone? You never shut up or leave people alone." A shaky inhale, "You have been shown again and again when you be yourself you run people off. You're too much you know you're too much and yet you don't stop." He took another shaky inhale and scrubbed his hands over his eyes.

"Fucking pathetic you get the most perfect man in the damn multiverse and you can't reign yourself in enough to not run him off. He keeps pulling away and you can't accept it even though this is the same damn thing that happens every fucking time you try and get close to anyone." A wet inhale this time and Logan's heart fucking sinks.

He hadn't meant for this to happen he hadn't wanted to hurt Wade, hell he was pulling away so he wouldn't run Wade off. Fuck both of them apparently because they both wanted the exact same thing and were going about it opposite ways.

"Wade." Logan said softly and Wade fucking jumped eyes going wide as he desperately tried to downplay what Logan had just seen. "h-hey peanut I didn't realize you would be back so soon." Wade said as he jumped up off the couch and started backing away. Logan hated himself fervently for causing this for causing any pain to this man.

"Wade fuck I'm sorry I had no idea." Logan tried to apologize but Wade was shaking his head, "No no apologies peanut it's me it's...always me. I run everyone off every time." The last part is choked out and Logan can't allow that. Wade doesn't have a chance to run off before Logan grabs him and crushes the bigger man to his chest.

Wade freezes and starts to try to scramble away before stopping as he begins to shake lightly. "Wade I didn't mean to make you feel like I didn't care or was trying to get you to leave me alone." Logan spoke seriously. Wade sagged into him and buried his face in the older man's neck.

"Wade my whole life people have preferred me at a distance I thought I was doing you a favor by staying away." Logan continued as he held the other man tighter. "I didn't want to run you off by getting too close. Wade we have had opposite experiences and and were acting according to prevent the same outcome we always end up with."

Wade was hugging him back and holding him just as tightly now. "Why would anyone want to push you away? You're perfect." Wade asked and Logan shook his head lightly, "Why would anyone not want you close? You're amazing." Logan shot back.

Wade blinked tears out of his eyes as he pulled back to make eye contact with Logan. "Promise you won't push me away again?" Wade asked voice shakey and unsure. "As long as you promise not to leave me alone." Logan agreed.

It was the easiest compromise either man had ever made.

[puffcap-factory]

What if after an argument with Diluc, you fell into the abyss during your expedition not long after, and you went back to the surface after 6 months, but without your memory of him.

Notes: It's been a while since I posted yes.. yes.. my work has been busy lately and I hadn't got proper time to write. I had this sudden idea another angst with Diluc when I hear the dawn winery ost (idk what's up with my obsession for angsty stories with Diluc) so I just write it down what I imagine while listening to it.

Update! The complete story here!!

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

Where is this place…?

Your steps were heavy, each step sinking into the ground as you trudged along the ground. The rustling grass and the rich scent of soil tugged at something familiar inside you, whispering of a place you once knew. Perhaps, you had found your way back to your own world, after all?

With each step, you moved forward little by little, limping slightly, as you took your time to absorb the surroundings after being thrown out of a rift near the shores of Liyue. Your clothes were ragged after what had seemed like endless battles you had fought to survive in the abyss, and your body felt numb with exhaustion. Yet, in this moment of weariness, there was a bittersweet comfort in the familiar earth beneath your feet.

“I’m back…”

You mumbled, your voice barely audible. Your mind was like a blank canvas as your feet carried you aimlessly, trying to dig deep into the recesses of your memory. But, everything before the darkness in the abyss remained elusive. Everything was hazy, as if someone had locked your memory before your fall into the abyss in a box, with its key just out of reach. 

Hours slipped by as you wandered, until you finally found yourself at the foot of a small hill. The wind brought a gentle breeze, tousling your hair, and you reached up to brush it from your face. Before you lay a field of grapevines, their leaves rustling softly in the wind. At the top of the hill, nestled among the vineyards, stood a mansion, and you were strangely pulled towards into it.

You slowly stepped forward onto the pathway leading to the mansion, when a man suddenly appeared in front of you, his face etched with shock as if he had just seen a ghost. His mouth fell open, and his arms hung limply at his sides as he tried to process the sight before him. There was a pause before he decided to speak.

“…y/n...?”

You looked up into his face, noticing his red hair pulled back into a ponytail. What a pretty sight, you thought, before realizing that he had called your name.

Y/n… Right, that’s my name. At least I remember that.

The man rushed to you, pulling you into a gentle hug, supporting you as you struggled to stand. You could feel his uneven breaths, hear the panic in his attempts to calm himself. His hand trembled against your back, offering support as he whispered fragmented apologies into your ear. Despite your confusion, there was a strange comfort in his embrace, a feeling of safety that allowed the fatigue to finally seize you. 

He then pulled back slightly, his brows furrowed with worry as he noticed your dazed state. Despite the warmth you felt from his gaze, his face was void in your memory. You tried to rake through your mind, but strangely found nothing. He lifted a trembling hand to your face, gently caressing your cheek, wishing at least you would somehow respond to his silent wail – call his name, anything. 

You opened your mouth, and with the last of your strength, you finally asked.

“Who are you…?”

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

Ah, my poor boi Diluc. Part 2 for the continuation, maybe?

[tinytinyblogs]

Hey I have a request for skz reaction to their s/o always wanting to be the big spoon?

Cuddling is my favorite!

Cuddling? Definitely. You want me to be the little spoon? Absolutely.

Hyung line, Maknae line

💬Thank you for the request, and here you go. I hope this meets your expectations, though I know it's not perfect. Nonetheless, it's an honor to fulfill your request, and I'll keep on writing.

Stray kids masterlist

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Chan

Chan's affectionate nature is deeply ingrained in his character, a constant source of warmth and comfort in your relationship. When you ask for a cuddle, it's as if he's been waiting for the invitation, his response immediate and wholehearted. Without a moment's hesitation, he throws himself into your embrace, his arms wrapping around you tightly, as if trying to merge his being with yours. But what truly sets Chan apart is his willingness to be the little spoon. He doesn't just accept the position; he embraces it with enthusiasm, reveling in the intimacy of being held by you. It's a testament to his trust in you, his vulnerability laid bare as he allows himself to be cradled in your arms. For Chan, your embrace is a sanctuary—a place where he can escape from the chaos of the world and find solace in your presence. The moment he sinks into your hug, feeling the warmth of your body and the rhythm of your breath, all his worries and stresses melt away. It's as if time stands still, and in that fleeting moment, there is nothing else in the world but the two of you. As he nestled into your chest, feeling the comforting warmth of your embrace, he settled into the familiar position of the small spoon.

His head rested just below your chin, and you could feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath. His voice, soft and hoarse with fatigue, broke the tranquil silence. "You know…" he began, his words trailing off as if he was too tired to continue. He wanted nothing more than to drift into sleep wrapped in your arms, yet a part of him clung to wakefulness, eager to prolong this intimate moment. "We need to do this more often," he continued, his voice a mixture of contentment and yearning. He tilted his head back slightly to look up at you, his eyes shining with love and vulnerability. Those eyes, filled with so much emotion, held your gaze as he spoke again. "I love being this close to you, and I love it when I have your full attention," he confessed, his words a tender admission of his feelings. A soft smile curved his lips as he leaned in to give you a quick, affectionate kiss. His arms tightened around you, holding you just a little closer, as if he could never get enough of your presence. The room around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this perfect, shared moment of connection and love.

Minho

When you asked Minho for a cuddle, he didn't respond right away. He just stayed silent, looking at you with a flat expression. Minho had always claimed he didn't really like physical touch, but deep down, you knew that wasn't true. There was something in his eyes that hinted otherwise, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. After a few moments of your gentle asking and his continued silence, you started to feel tired and a bit dejected. You let out a small sigh, thinking maybe he really didn't want to cuddle. But then, something changed. Minho began to move closer to you, ever so subtly. At first, he just shifted a bit nearer, trying to act casual as if he was simply adjusting his position. He continued to inch closer, his movements almost imperceptible at first. He sat right next to you, his arm lightly brushing against yours. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and you knew he was letting down his guard, even if he didn't say a word. Then, in one swift motion, Minho closed the gap between you two completely. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. His head nestled against your shoulder, and you could feel his breath against your neck. He finally settled into the small spoon position, his body fitting perfectly against yours.

He did it all in silence, not saying anything, but his actions spoke volumes. Maybe he was too shy to admit how much he enjoyed being close to you, or maybe he just didn't know how to express it with words. Either way, his silent gesture was filled with affection and vulnerability, showing you a side of him that he rarely revealed. While holding you tightly, Minho buried his face against your chest, hiding his blush. You could feel the warmth of his cheeks even through your shirt. "I thought you didn't want this, didn't like affection, huh?" you teased gently, a playful tone in your voice. "Shut up," he mumbled, his voice muffled against your chest. He stayed in the same position, not daring to lift his head and reveal his reddened face. After a moment, "You asked for it, so I'm just fulfilling your request." he added. "Sure you are, Minho," you replied knowingly, a smile spreading across your face. You could tell he was enjoying this as much as you were, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. His grip tightened around you, and after a few seconds of silence, he spoke again, his voice a bit more demanding this time. "What are you doing? Hold me tighter. Give me more of your affection."

Changbin

Changbin's face lit up with a playful grin the moment you mentioned cuddling. It was as if he had been waiting for the invitation all along. Without a second thought, he practically leaped into your arms as soon as you opened them, his enthusiasm palpable. "Why bother to ask?" he teased, his voice filled with genuine happiness as he hugged you tightly, relishing in the warmth of your embrace. And when you expressed your wish to be the big spoon for him, Changbin's eyes sparkled with affection. He adored being your baby, finding solace and joy in the simple act of being held by you. Nestled under your arm, he felt a sense of security and belonging unlike anything else in the world. It was his favorite place to be, and he would gladly stay there forever if he could. "I'm always here to be your personal teddy bear," he whispered softly with a giggle escaping his lips, Changbin pulled you even closer, enveloping you in his embrace., his words a sweet melody in the midst of your embrace.

With each passing moment, his love for you seemed to grow stronger, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for every precious second he got to spend with you like this. As your fingers traced soothing patterns through his hair, Changbin's voice drifted into a soft mumble, barely audible but filled with a deep sense of gratitude. "I'm so lucky, being pampered like this," he confessed, his words carrying a gentle undertone of appreciation. Humming a soft melody, he leaned into your touch, finding comfort in the tender affection you showered upon him. Meeting your eyes, Changbin's smile widened, his gaze reflecting a mixture of adoration and contentment. "This feels so right," he whispered, his voice laced with sincerity. "You should give me this love more often," he teased, his chuckle soft and melodious, like a symphony of affection. Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss against your lips, his affectionate gesture a testament to the depth of his feelings. "I'm your big baby to take care of," he declared with a playful glint in his eyes, his words carrying a sense of playful devotion as he settled back into your embrace, content to bask in the warmth of your love.

Hyunjin

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Hyunjin quipped, "Ah, someone crazy in love with me," his tone playful as he feigned a scrutinizing look, as if he was assessing your affection levels. But before you could respond, a grin spread across his face, and he couldn't contain his laughter, leaning in closer to you. "You're wanting to be the big spoon, huh? Alright, but just this once." he teased, wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace as per your request. Hyunjin relished the closeness, savoring the comfort of your touch and the playful banter that characterized your relationship. It was moments like these, filled with laughter and light-hearted teasing, that made your bond even stronger. Each day was an opportunity to share jokes, exchange playful banter, and tease each other relentlessly, creating a dynamic that kept the spark alive. And as you snuggled closer, you both knew that no matter how much you teased, the love and affection you shared would always shine through. As he held you tightly, Hyunjin basked in the comforting warmth you provided, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he gazed at you, admiring the love reflected in your eyes.

"Since you love me this much, I'll gladly fulfill your wish," he said with a soft chuckle, his voice filled with affection. He couldn't resist the urge to lean in and press a tender kiss against your pouting lips, savoring the sweetness of the moment. As he pulled back, a playful glint danced in his eyes. "Your pout is too adorable to resist," he teased, his laughter echoing softly in the air. With a reluctant sigh, he confessed, "I had plans to be productive today, but being wrapped up in your embrace makes it hard to leave." His gaze softened as he looked up at you, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "But I suppose today can be about us," he added, his voice laced with warmth and affection. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the two of you, lost in the comfort of each other's arms. Pulling you even closer, Hyunjin whispered softly, his breath warm against your skin, "Today is about us." His arms wrapped around you tighter, as if trying to convey all his affection and devotion through the embrace alone. Repeating those words like a mantra, he emphasized the importance of cherishing the present moment together, allowing nothing to distract from the love shared between you.

[calmcoldevening]

Hiii I love your writing could I maybe request some slashers with a s/o who has insomnia

(Add rz Michael and Bubba please

You can add other slashers to)

Oh kitten, thank you for your request ♡︎ I hope it could make you feel better and help to sleep. These boys are all for you

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Slashers with s/o who has insomnia

Characters: Michael Myers (RZ), Bubba Sawyer, Hannibal Lecter, Mark Hoffman

Warnings: mention of cannibalism (just a little, because it's Bubba), insomnia, just problems with sleep, but I tried to make it hurt/comfort

Ps: English is not my native language, so sorry for misspells

Michael Myers

• Expressing emotions towards another person is clearly not Michael's strong point. But when it comes to you... It's something else.

• At first, he didn't pay much attention to your condition, or rather, he just didn't know yet that such apathy and nervousness is something bad. Michael just thought he wasn't used to you yet.

• But still something made him think about it.

• As soon as Michael got used to physical contact, he literally began to feel a hunger for touch. He wanted to touch you, hug you and just feel your tender skin on his rough one. A man slept with you. When he was sure that you were deep asleep and would not notice it, he pressed his huge body against yours like a frightened kitten. He was desperately clutching the fabric of your pajamas, sinking into a restless sleep.

• But that has changed now. You went to bed late, if you went to bed at all, and sometimes you woke up in the middle of the night. Now Michael was falling asleep without your little figure next to him. It was like this.. alien and unpleasant.

• It seemed eerily wrong. You spent less time with him and seemed to be flying in your thoughts all the time, although in fact your body was just trying not to switch off due to lack of sleep. Michael became more aggressive and killed his victims with greater brutality.

• But as soon as the usual veil of anger fell away, and his pitch-black eyes turned soft blue again, Michael noticed in your gaze.. sadness? despair? His heart squeezed a little. Then he really thought about your condition. It probably happened a month after your days became more frequent with insomnia. And he really didn't know what to do.

• But Michael is a smart boy, he found a way out. How easy it was to watch old Loomis for a few days, who, probably because of his work, often experienced insomnia. How to solve this problem? Michael watched the man through the window. Pills? Michael hates pills, and he doesn't want you to become addicted to them in any way. Doctor's visit? Michael wouldn't really want you to have contact with another person, especially if it's a man. Just thinking about it made Michael's heart ache.

• But how does he cope with stress himself? Now he takes out all his accumulated anger and emotions in murders. A knife in his hand and someone else's blood on it cause a man a pleasant wave of trembling. But you can't kill. No, he will never allow you, his fragile flower, to get your soft, tender hands in someone else's vile blood and flesh.

• Although as a child, when he was sad or bad, Michael ate candy... Indeed, sweets. Perhaps it is sweets that will help you cope with stress. It seems that chocolate causes the production of serotonin?

• You were sitting in the bedroom and reading a book, or rather, trying to. Everything was in a fog in my head, and the letters occasionally floated before my eyes, but as soon as your head touched the pillow, drowsiness immediately disappeared, as if it had never existed. Flipping through the next page, you look up and notice the giant figure of your boyfriend in the doorway. Surprisingly, he is wearing his still clean overalls and an orange papier-mache mask. Dirty blonde hair falls gracefully over his broad shoulders. You can't read his stoic expression, but you can see him hiding something behind his back. When you finally pay attention to him, Michael starts walking slowly in your direction. He climbs onto the bed, the mattress will crumple under his weight. Next to your side, he puts a bag with a lot of sweets, and he grabs your legs and climbs between them. The man gently squeezes your hips and puts his head on your lower abdomen, gently rubbing his nose against your skin through your clothes. Like a kitten. Michael was not a fan of soulful conversations, so he preferred actions and touches. You glance briefly at the package and notice inside, in addition to sweets, a small note. Clumsy and a little sloppy, as if written in a child's handwriting: "Hug me if you can't sleep. I'm near."You smile, and your heartbeat quickens. You gently touch Michael's tangled hair with your fingers, starting to slowly stroke them. It's relaxing. I could swear that a long purr is coming from the chest of this giant.

Bubba Sawyer

• Bubba started to worry a lot when he found out about your insomnia. He begins to take care of you and shield you from stress in every possible way.

• When the Sawyers need to deal with uninvited guests, you are usually sent for a short walk with one of the brothers so that you don't worry about strong screams. Or you're just out in the backyard enjoying a warm Texas day.

• Bubba gives you a lot of hugs. Very much. At night, he does not let you out of his arms, fearing that something might happen to you. He is very attentive. A man always makes sure that when you go to bed, the room is cool and dark, and the sheets are soft and pleasant to sleep on.

• Before going to bed, you definitely take a walk in the garden. Even if he is tired, Bubba will still sit with you on the grass, admiring the stars and gently squeezing your little neat hand. He values you very much.

• Bubba will also try to give you lighter food. No hard-to-digest human meat and barbecue, just fruits and vegetables.

• By nature a gentle and simple person, Bubba will give you a mug of warm milk before going to bed. They always gave it to him when he was little, and he fell asleep quickly.

• When the two of you go to bed, Bubba cuddles you to her, making soothing sounds and mumbling like a lost puppy. He clings to you and tries to show you all his love and comfort.

• Bubba has big and strong hands. So in the evenings, about two or three times a week, he gives you a relaxing massage. Trust me, he does it like a real professional. These hardened by long years of hard work can do a lot.

• Bubba will try to talk about your problem with Drayton. Bubba really wants to help you. Even if it means you have to leave him. Bubba will try to persuade Drayton to take you to the city to see a doctor. He loves you so much, his sunshine, the man doesn't want you to suffer.

Hannibal Lecter

• You periodically had trouble sleeping, but you didn't want to bother the Lecturer with this. After all, he has enough problems of his own, besides, he is a psychiatrist and deals with the problems of his patients, he does not need to worry about you once again.

• So you thought when another sleepless night came.

• You were quietly sitting on the windowsill in the bedroom and listening to music. Hannibal, as always, lingered in the office, so you were completely immersed in your thoughts. The light melody somehow reduced the unpleasant heaviness of your head. It seems that you wanted to sleep, but at the same time, your brain did not want to turn off in any way. There was a strange emptiness inside.

• Being in your thoughts, you didn't notice how a big but gentle hand touched your shoulder. Lifting your head up, your eyes instantly met his — bottomless and dark, like thick blood. The man's eyebrows moved slightly to the bridge of his nose, and he gave you a quick glance from the bottom up.

• "Why aren't you sleeping?" His gaze slid to his wristwatch, "It's one o'clock in the morning, dear."

• The answer was only your empty, uncertain look. The man instantly connected the dots, sighing heavily. "Insomnia?" A slight nod. Hannibal gently touches your chin with his fingers, stroking the skin and leaning his forehead against yours. "You should have told me earlier, honey. I'm a psychiatrist."

• After a couple of minutes, your tired body was already peacefully resting in Hannibal's arms. He carried you to the bathroom, sitting you on the edge of the tub and slowly starting to draw hot water. The man added a little lavender oil and a nice soft bubble bath. As soon as your body touched the cherished warmth, a blissful sigh escaped from your chest. A smile touched Hannibal's lips.

• "That's it dear. Close those beautiful eyes of yours," he almost sang in his sweet, slightly hoarse voice as he sat down on the side of the tub. He rolled up his sleeves and took some shampoo, starting to wash your hair. His movements are precise, gentle, soothing. Your eyes slowly close, as if filled with lead, and your heart begins to beat in a calmer rhythm. It was so sweet of him. This man knows exactly what he's doing. A little later, he massages your shoulders and neck, relaxing the muscles tense after long sleepless nights. The subtle scent of lavender and his firm hands created a pleasant duet in your mind, starting to slowly put you to sleep. It's as if in one moment all that stress disappeared from your soul, being replaced by a clear lack of sleep.

• "That's it, honey. Let me take care of my love."

• After a while, Hannibal will help you get out of the bath and put on clean pajamas consisting of your favorite shorts and his loose shirt. He knows that his things make you feel comfortable and safe.

• Under his careful guidance, you will slowly return to bed. Cool sheets on your hot skin after a bath now seem like a real paradise. Sleep begins to slowly take over your mind as Hannibal's arms gently wrap around your smaller body.

• "Sweet dreams, darling."

Mark Hoffman

• Mark knew well what it meant to have trouble sleeping. Because of all his work and the Designer, he was often stressed and could not sleep peacefully.

• So when he noticed you had insomnia, it really started to worry him. Not to say that Mark was a very gentle and kind partner, but he tries. Therefore, first of all, Mark will certainly take you to the doctor and use any possible method of treating your insomnia, no matter if it is a special massage or medications.

• In addition, Mark knows that, first of all, insomnia occurs against a background of great stress and excitement. Therefore, he will try to give you maximum support. A man will try to do most of the housework, not allowing you not to overwork. He will do his best to give you support, both physical and emotional.

• Every evening certainly ends with a warm hug. You know, in his big hands you will really feel loved and safe. You can sit in the living room and watch some quiet movie. Or you will just lie together in the bedroom: there is a subdued light around, the moon shines softly through the window, gently tracing his rough features with a milky white light; you lie wrapped in a soft blanket in his arms, Mark's head rests on top of your head. You can talk about the past day or just be silent, enjoying each other's company. After a while, he will begin to gently hum some kind of lullaby, from which you will wearily close your eyes. In his hands, you have nothing to worry about. He will always be with you, no matter what.

• "I promise you that it's going to be okay, we will get through this together."

• Often your evenings can end with a mug of hot herbal tea. Warm drinks are always soothing, so he can try.

• You may notice one more detail. When you try to fall asleep with him, he deliberately presses you closer to him. His shirt smells like lavender. The delicate scent of the flower pleasantly tickles your nose, causing a smile. Surprisingly, your brain calms down, you begin to feel sleepy. Mark specially bought a new lavender laundry conditioner, knowing that it could help you calm down.

• Every day he will constantly remind you how important you are to him. If he leaves for work before you, he leaves different stickers with inscriptions all over the house. On the refrigerator, on the bathroom mirror, on the bedside table. "It's not your fault you have insomnia, baby. You're important to me. I love you very much. You're doing enough. I'm proud of you." While at work, he often sends you cute messages and pictures. And although he himself is not strong in such things as romance, the fact that he sees your smile encourages him to try even harder.

• Mark buys you big stuffed animals so you have someone to cuddle with while he's at work. There are also lots of milkshakes in the fridge now, and there are different teas in the cupboard to help you relax. And although he tries not to give you a lot of sweets, he buys your favorite fruits and nuts to adjust your nutrition.

• He really cares and cares about you. Mark will try to do everything in his power to help you, dear.