#snuggling into bed is the best feeling

[silverselfshippingchaos]

I can't sleep... I bet being sandwiched between two sexy space soldiers could help though!

[lewmagoo]

just did a full body workout (aka rearranging my entire bedroom)

[gu6chan]

this is a cool picture i took last night when a storm was rolling by and i was in the forest looking for my little Cat

[thebutchprinxe]

my dad just sold his townhouse (my primary residence for the past ? year ish ?), feeling very :/

[ursuguru]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒, fetishes & turn ons . . . 𝐎𝐇 𝐌𝐘 .ᐟ

⭑ SYNOPSIS [ wc﹐893 ] gojo, geto, toji, sukuna & what i think some of their kinks would be.

⭑ CONTENT [ mdni﹐dead dove ] afab! reader. oral (f), overstimulation, p in v, begging, teasing, praise & degrading, cockwarming, slight somnophilia, daddy kink, nippleplay, consensual non con.

GOJO . . . enjoys overstimulation, especially when it comes to giving you head. your clit is already sensitive to the touch, so much so that he cannot place a finger on your bare clit without you gasping and squirming, shooting sensations pulsing from that area. he has to rub you over your clitoral hood, so that there’s at least a soft, cushiony barrier between your most sensitive parts, and his roughened thumb; but when it comes to his mouth, it’s just heavenly. the way he laps you up, tongue peeking into your hole as deep as it will go, pushing in a finger as his mouth works on your clit, sucking and swirling. after a bit, you start to get overwhelmed, the sensations coming from your abdomen making you squirm almost out of his grip. “mmhnnn.” satoru shakes his head slightly, wrapping strong arms around your already shaking thighs. “please, no more, i can’t take it.” you plead with him, just before his mouth releases your clit with a wet and sloppy ‘pop’ before telling you, “you’ll take as much as i want you to. you’re mine.” viciously sucking at you until you’ve came, again and again.

GETO . . . likes cockwarming. sometimes it was while he was on the game, noticing you walking around the house in damn near nothing, whistling to get your attention. he would pull his shorts down just enough, motioning for you to come sit on his lap. of course you had no issue with this, discarding your panties to go sit on his lap, with his cock buried deep inside of you. sometimes you would wiggle around and earn a harsh slap to your ass, or what he could reach of it. other times he was thrusting into you after losing, or even winning a match. you didn’t mind, as long as he was giving you attention. sometimes cockwarmimg geto was a little different, like when he is tired and needy, snuggling with you in bed. he can feel your ass pressed against him, and whether you were trying or not, you made him hard. sometimes he will pull off his shorts, sticking the tip against you and if you’re wet enough, it slides right in. you can hear him hum softly, settling in, feeling the warmth of your walls, he wraps his arms around you to sleep for the night. once he wakes in the morning, and realizes his cock is still hard and inside of you, he fucks you awake.

TOJI . . . has a daddy kink, ironically. it started off as just a joke, him calling himself big daddy, or telling you he was your daddy; and at first, you didn’t know how to feel about it, but weeks of thinking, and possibly some subliminal conditioning from your lovely, perverted boyfriend had changed your mind. “do it, slut.” he was hovered over you, tip of his cock pressed against your slick hole, teasing, but only enough to have you frustrated and almost begging. he wouldn’t put it in until— “say it.” he demanded of you, hand coming up to grip your soft cheeks, keeping your focus on him. you wanted to, but it felt so foreign on your tongue, saying it when you were alone just to get a taste of the word in your mouth. “daddy?” you finally let it slip, your voice light and airy, the word coming out almost as if it were a question. “that’s it, good. say it again, like you mean it.” less demanding this time, but he still wouldn’t put it in until he was satisfied, and he could tell it was bothering you. the way you wiggled your hips and tried your best to push yourself down onto his cock, but it was useless in that position, lying on your back you were helpless beneath him. “daddy please.” this time it sounded better, more natural as the words just fell off of your tongue, begging him to finally wreck you; to which he did, until you were a crying and cumming mess.

SUKUNA . . . likes cnc. he rather enjoys watching you squirm and cry beneath him, begging for him to stop. you’ve already established a safeword, and he always confirms it before going into a scene; knowing that if that word fell from your lips, he would stop immediately. “baby, what’s your safeword?” he asks you, and once you respond he begins to push himself onto you, feeling up your thighs, squishing soft skin and pushing his rough fingers between the warmth of them. “please..” you whimper, knowing it turns him on to hear you beg. he ignores you, his free hand pulling your tank top down to reveal your chest and already budding nipples. with his head dipping down to put one in his mouth, his other hand worked his way up your thighs and right against your panties. “please, stop!” you protest, gasping at the feeling of his teeth, nipping and sucking before releasing their grip, his fingers down below pushing past the fabric of lace, plunging themselves into your sweet dripping hole. “you know you want this, that’s why you don’t fight me.” the man snickered at your obedience, the way your hole clenched around his fingers when he spoke. “relax, enjoy this.” he hums, pumping his fingers in and out until you’re begging for him to let you cum.

© ursuguru 2024. do not copy.

[yuujispinkhair]

Thinking about jumping into modern!boyfie Sukuna's arms and clinging to him like a koala while he carries you to bed. You mumble something like,

"Mmmh you are so warm, baby."

Snuggling even closer to your boyfriend's tall, muscular body. And Sukuna laughs and teases you playfully,

"What? You're telling me the person who couldn’t wait for fall and winter to finally arrive, is already feeling cold?"

But he says it so affectionately, his low voice full of warmth and amusement, and his strong arms only hold you tighter when he adds,

"I'll keep you warm all night."

And you smile and rest your face against his broad chest, knowing that you will get the best cuddles from your favorite person in the world.

Sukuna places you gently on your bed and you don't even get a chance to complain about the lack of his arms around you before he is already slipping into bed behind you and wraps his warm, strong body around you.

You sigh happily, snuggling into Sukuna's embrace with a sleepy-sounding:

"You're the best, baby."

And you feel Sukuna's smirk against your neck where he trails soft little kisses over your skin,

"I know."

His tattooed arms tighten around your smaller body, holding you safely as Sukuna presses his tall, muscular body against you, making sure his girl is warm and happy. And when he hears your soft snores he can't help but smile and think to himself that you are the best, too.

[sttoru]

.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. it’s late at night and you try to cuddle with sukuna. keyword; try.

wc. 1.2k

tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. fluff, angst (+comfort). heian era. size difference (readers referred to as small). sukuna’s a bit mean, but he also has a soft spot for you. miscommunication ? it gets solved. reader gets called ‘woman, doll’.

“what are you trying to do?” sukuna sighs. you’re up to something again, he figures. his red eyes follow your body as it crawls up to him on the bed.

you’re both tired after a long day of fulfilling some duties here and there around the estate. all you need is a big beefy man wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm and safe.

the perfect man for that is sukuna. those four arms of his wrapped around your small body feel like heaven.

“it’s called cuddling,” you retort. the sarcastic tone you used triggers a deep sigh from the sorcerer. sukuna holds back the urge to say something sarcastic as well.

he doesn’t utter a single word once you snuggle up to his chest. you’ve taught him how to cuddle during the first time you asked him to hold you. sukuna was awkward with showing any type of affection back then.

. . he still very much is.

“hug, please,” you remind him. the cold-hearted man scoffs, though listens to your polite request. all four of his arms imprison you against his chest, your small body nearly disappearing behind his limbs.

that’s what you like most about those cuddles you share together; how you fit so perfectly in his strong arms. it’s much more comforting than you thought it would be.

a pair of hands rests on your waist, the other pair on your hips. sukuna glances down at you and immediately notices that smile on your lips. even after all this time, he still cannot fathom why you’re so carefree around a monster like him.

and that inability to understand you and your love for him is accompanied by an urge to push you away.

“you got your hug, now get up,” sukuna interrupts the silence. his voice is cold and devoid of emotion—he uses that voice when he talks to other people. not with you, “i have better things to attend to.”

thus, it hurts. when he talks to you like that. like you’re not the person he secretly cherishes most. though, you remind yourself of sukuna’s own words. the ones you heard him say a while ago.

‘love is meaningless’, he said. you remember. and yet you kept hoping that he’d change his mind about that statement. you hoped and eventually saw exactly that: your presence and your affectionate gestures mellowed his heart of steel.

but all that effort seems to go down the drain every time sukuna pushes you away.

you know it’s because he’s unfamiliar with the feelings of love. he may not say it nor show it, but you know that sukuna’s afraid of hurting you. so, he creates a gap between you two every now and then.

you know and yet you’re patient.

“oh, ‘kay,” you nod in understanding. you pull away from his embrace and get up from the bed. your bottom lip trembles.

sukuna is not gullible. he’s anything but oblivious. especially if it’s about how you feel and act. he notices every single change in your mood; whether you mask it or not.

you walk to the sliding doors—ready to open them and step out into the hallway. your eyes are a bit watery, but you quickly blink the tears away and take a deep breath in. you reach for the door.

“come back here, woman.”

sukuna’s booming voice makes you stop. you glance at his form over your shoulder. he’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

is he. . . upset?

“why? you said you had better things to attend to.” you answer with a shrug. you try your best to not make it seem like his earlier words had effected you. you turn your head towards the word with a huff, “go on, then.”

sukuna narrows his eyes. he sucks at communicating what he actually desires—what he actually wants. right now that want is for you to stay. even though that completely contradicts his previous words.

the sorcerer doesn’t know what to do. when you’re with him, he pushes you away out of guilt. when you’re away, he wants you back with him.

love is complicated.

“you. . .” sukuna grunts in frustration. all those feelings for you inside of his heart are playing with his rational thoughts. he doesn’t like seeing you upset. he wants the usual you back, “tsk. fine then.”

silence, followed by the creaking of the bed frame. seems like sukuna’s getting up to do whatever ‘business’ he needed to attend. at least, that’s what you thought.

you slide the door open and set a foot outside of the chambers. before the other could follow, you’re suddenly lifted up in the air by a strong pair of hands. your vision turns upside down as your body is effortlessly hoisted onto a shoulder.

“woah!” you gasp and feel the blood go to your head. your eyes are fixed on the back of your lover. you kick your legs in protest, but only get a smack to your ass in response. you whine at that, “put me down!”

“watch it, doll,” sukuna hisses at your fierce demand, a warning to fix your tone. he puts you back down on the soft mattress. he’s surprisingly gentle when he settles you in place—not throwing you on the bed or anything similar, “should’ve listened when i told you the first time.”

your eyes meet sukuna’s and you notice how much they’ve softened. that alone makes the lump in your throat disappear. your love for him isn’t one sided—you’ve always kept that in the back of your mind—yet your thoughts made you overlook the little things he does for you.

his actions speak louder than his words. that’s the kind of man he is.

sukuna’s trying to open up more, though that process is slow. you’re fine with that.

especially when there’s that faint pout on his lips as he stares at you. his eyebrows are still furrowed, his crimson eyes sharp yet warm.

“oh, you want me back in bed this bad?” you tease once you get the opportunity. the man in front of you clicks his tongue and grabs your cheeks with one hand, turning your head up to face him.

sukuna’s eyes are focused on yours. the eye contact is intimidating, but you’re hypnotised. you physically can’t look away. he leans in and bites your lip with his sharp canines, “shut up.”

that raspy whisper alone confirms your assumption. you giggle at his attempt of refuting your point. you’re used to all those intimidating words and actions he pulls to get you to stop your teasing.

those empty threats—it’s becoming rather cute with how hard he tries to deny everything. he fails nearly every time, however.

“come,” sukuna lays back against the pillows after placing a quick and sloppy kiss against your lips. he pulls your body against his and presses your head against his chest, right where his heart is beating, “continue with your.. ‘cuddling’ thing.”

he put your ear right above his heart, because he remembers listening to his heartbeat calms you down. you told him that a while back. sukuna doesn’t understand why you like it, but his fingers massage your scalp either way.

that’s also something that brings you comfort.

you’re surprised by how much he knows about you, but appreciate it anyway. he remembers both the big and small things about you. ‘that’s how he probably shows his love,’ you conclude silently.

[flippedorbit]

oh man this is perfect

[gloomwitchwrites]

I'm in a roll....

The 141 in grey sweatpants. 🥵

You're in a roll? Me too. A brioche roll. Or maybe a Hawaiian roll. Or rolled inside one of Price's many cigars. Kidding (not really). I knew what you meant.

And grey sweatpants...yes please! I am salivating over here. Literally drooling. And it's only grey sweatpants. No shirts. No shoes. Just sweatpants and muscle. (my god I need to go touch grass).

These are...spicy. How could they not be? It's our favorite men in nothing but grey sweatpants.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, suggestive themes, swearing, invitations for sex, dirty thoughts, sexual situations, married life, fade to black

Word Count: 2k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“It’s bedtime. Bath. Pajamas. Teeth.”

“But Dad! Lucy and I—”

“Bed.” You grin into your glass as John ushers the children out of the living room. “Come on you two. I want to kiss your mother.”

“Ew. Gross!” the kids screech in unison.

The trio disappears down the hallway. You hear water running and the laughter of your children. John eventually emerges thirty minutes later. He runs his hand over the top of his head, sighing heavily.

When he enters the living room and notices you, he grins mischievously. His body is on full display. Broad chest with a lovely dusting of dark hair that trails downward to disappear beneath the band of his grey sweatpants. John is all thick muscle. A wall of strength. You’ve always loved that about him. How he seems to take up so much space or the way he crushes you with his body when he goes in for a snuggle.

John plops down on the sofa beside you. The moment his ass hits the cushion, John grabs for you. You giggle, playfully pushing at your husband as his weight tips you back, pinning you to the sofa.

“The kids,” you protest with a whisper.

“They’re sleeping,” he replies just as softly, keeping you pressed beneath him.

John goes in for a kiss. It is sweet. Slow. Deep. Completely indulgent. There is so much of him. And his scent is everywhere. It fills your lungs. Makes you weak.

Your lips part and John slips his tongue inside. You start to soften, to lean into his kisses. Each is salt-laced passion. A tease for later. He might have you pinned against the couch, and his tongue down your throat, but John will move this behind a locked door.

As John goes in for another kiss, the sound of a door unlatching comes from the hall. John freezes and you go still beneath him.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters.

Pushing up to a more seated position, John addresses the offender with a raised voice. “You best be in bed.”

There’s a gentle squeak, and then a door closing.

John sinks back down, resting his forehead against yours. He sighs heavily, and you give him a quick kiss. He returns it, and then snakes an arm under your back. He hauls you up and into his lap. You straddle him, hands pressed against his firm chest.

Through the sweatpants, you can feel his hardness pressing against your thigh. John’s hands roam downward to cup your buttocks, squeezing.

“Ready to take this elsewhere?” he asks, grinding his hips upward.

You have to stifle a moan.

“Please, John.”

With a light slap to your ass, he lifts you off his lap and onto your feet. The ground is solid. Steady. But then John’s hands return, and then you’re away, being guided down the hall to your bedroom.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You snuggle into the couch and crack open your paperback book.

Everything is in order. You have a glass of wine, a bowl of snacks, the tableside lamp on, and a cozy blanket. It’s late, but it’s officially the weekend. There will be plenty of time to relax.

“Reading out here?”

You glance up, and find Kyle in the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall. He’s shirtless. Without shoes. Just him, his freshly showered skin, and a pair of grey sweatpants. Kyle absently scratches at his chiseled stomach, head slightly tilted as he waits for your answer.

You can’t help but focus in on every line of muscle.

“Babe,” he prompts, laughing.

“Sorry?” you reply, blinking.

Kyle laughs again, the sound sweet. He strides forward, coming to a stop beside the sofa. He taps the side of his mouth. “Got some drool.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you giggle, checking with a quick wipe with the back of your hand.

Kyle’s smile is infectious. You can’t help but match it.

“Can I join you?” he asks, already lifting the blanket.

“You’re not going out with the boys?”

Kyle shakes his head. With one hand he lifts the blanket, and with the other he grabs your legs and lifts. He slides in, and drapes your legs over his lap before returning the blanket to drape over your body. Keeping one hand under the blanket, Kyle rests his hand on your inner thigh. It stirs heat in your core.

“Tomorrow,” he yawns. “Simon has a sick kid.”

“Bummer.”

Kyle shrugs, draping his over arm over the back of the couch. His hand on your thigh is a brand, and it’s only made worse when he starts massaging.

“Is it a spicy one?” asks Kyle, nodding toward your book.

Yes.

“Maybe,” you say slowly.

Kyle smirks, and then the book is out of your hand.

“Kyle!” You reach for it, but he twists, blocking your forward momentum.

He examines the pages in front of him. Heat rushes into your cheeks. As he reads, his eyes widen.

Kyle’s mouth drops open.

“What?” you prompt. You try to snag the book but he blocks you.

He glances at you. “Are you aware of where he’s putting that gun?”

“It’s fictional.”

“When you ask me to recreate things—”

“Kyle—”

“—is this what you’re talking about?” His gaze goes from you to the book and then to you again. “I’m down for a lot of things, love, but I’m not sure I’m down for that.”

Pushing off from the couch, you snatch the book out of Kyle’s hands. He surrenders it easily, a smile on his perfect face. The blanket is a crumbled mess beside him, but that’s not what you’re focused on.

The grey sweatpants have shifted, exposing more of the deep v of his pelvis. But it’s not just that. Kyle is hard. That is very clear.

He leans against the back of the couch, throwing both arms out to rest over the top. Flexing his hips, Kyle puts himself on display.

“I’ve got something else I can put inside you.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

A delighted shriek comes from the kitchen.

Johnny emerges, completely unbothered even with the two children in his arms. He has the oldest child, who just turned five, sideways and tucked under one arm. The boy has a wicked smile of his face even as he wiggles, trying to free himself from his father’s grasp. It’s fruitless.

The other child, a boy of three, keeps shrieking with delight even as Johnny lifts him into the air by his ankle. He is upside down, arms flailing, his brown hair hanging below him.

Johnny doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t even break a sweat. He carries the two of them like it’s nothing.

He’s almost completely naked except for a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips. They show off the deep v of his pelvis, and the dusting of dark hair that spreads over his chest and descends downward. You’ve touched that chest so many times. You know it as well as you know yourself.

Johnny’s gaze is on the television, watching the football match. The kids still shriek and playfully claw at him. But he remains unbothered.

Sitting there on the sofa, you consider that a third kid might not be so bad. You’d give him a small army if he asked.

Johnny glances away from the television, and when his gaze lands on you, it is entirely knowing. Heat curls in your belly, and his smile widens.

“Found these gremlins digging in the pantry,” he says, indicating the kids by hoisting the three-year old higher into the air and squeezing the other tighter against him.

Both kids giggle manically.

“After brushing their teeth.” Johnny tuts. “What’s to be done?”

Both children continue to giggle, not answering their father.

“Sounds like it’s time for bed,” you muse.

The children groan.

“But I’m not tired,” moans the five-year old.

“Too bad,” laughs Johnny. “Come on.”

He doesn’t put them down. He carries them like that all the way to their bedroom. Even from your spot on the sofa, you can hear their manic giggling. After a while, it quiets down, and Johnny emerges from the hall.

Instead of sitting down on the couch next to you, he grabs the remote and shuts off the television.

“Not interested in the game?” you ask.

“Nope. Want something else.”

His sultry smile tells you enough.

Slowly, he approaches, coming to a stop in front of you. He offers his hand, and you take it. With little effort, Johnny brings you to your feet, and hauls you close. Your free hand immediately rises, pressing against his chiseled stomach.

“What is it that you want?” you murmur, already knowing the answer.

His hardness presses against your belly, his voice going low and gravelly as he speaks. “I’d like to spend some time between those gorgeous thighs.”

“Doing what?”

“Whatever I very well please.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

This is agony. A terrible joke.

Simon is right there. Sweaty. Shirtless. In nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants.

He’s completely in the zone. Heavy metal blares through the stereo’s speakers, drowning out the sound of his gloved fists striking the punching bag. Morning light pours in from the open window, giving Simon an ethereal glow.

You watch from the doorway, chewing on your bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to pounce on him. Simon is all muscle, and not in a gym rat way. He is thick everywhere. You want to lick the sweat from his skin, to drop to your knees before him, and tug those grey sweatpants down.

You know what you’d find. And it sounds delicious.

But he is in the zone. And you won’t disturb him.

Pushing down the naughty thoughts, you start to turn away, to return to the kitchen and find something to eat for breakfast.

The music abruptly cuts off.

“See something you like, love?”

Simon’s raspy voice draws you back to the room. With one hand on the doorframe, you meet his gaze, and promptly melt into the floor. He has a cocky grin on his face, and his shoulders heave slightly from exhaustion.

You lick your lips. “Always,” you reply, fingers digging into the wood.

Simon’s gaze scans you. You feel exposed, like he can see through your clothes. It’s knowing. Amused.

“What is it?” you prompt, staring just as hard as he is.

Simon removes one glove and then the other. He tosses them to the side, never taking his eyes off you.

“Come here,” he says.

You don’t move.

Simon arches a single eyebrow. Instead of repeating himself, he gestures with one finger, indicating that he wants you to come to him.

Heat rushes from your cheeks down to your toes. Slowly, you peel yourself away from the door, heading for him. Simon’s natural swagger is alluring, and those sweatpants sit so low.

Just one tug. That’s all it would take. And you’d be able to take him in your mouth.

As you approach, Simon reaches out, grabbing your waist, tugging you close to him. You instinctually hook your finger in the waistband of his grey sweatpants.

Simon smirks.

You inhale deeply, savoring the manly musk of him.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“Not for breakfast,” you sigh.

“For something else then?”

You nod.

Simon leans in but doesn’t kiss you. He holds back slightly, lips curved into a hint of a smile. “Want to hear what I have in mind?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

Simon presses his thumb on your bottom lip. “I can fill that mouth.” His thumb drops away from your lips, and trails over your chin before brushing over your stomach. “And belly.”

His gaze stays on you. “What do you think of that, love?”

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[bunnis-monsters]

OK SO- I fou d you from your werebunny post which-

BTW

Was really good?? I- it made me feel things- If possible, more werebunny crumbs please? It could go either sfw or nsfw, I don't mind! (Or both but its up to you!)

NSFW

It’s always fun watching his cotton tail wag with excitement when you’re near. He has the cutest pink nose, soft bunny ears and a fluffy tail that goes crazy with every kiss and touch.

Momo, your pretty bunny, really enjoyed having you near. His heart would explode with joy every time you kissed him, his bunny ears flicking as his nose twitched.

“Mmph… love~”

He couldn’t stand being apart from you, living in separate homes just wasn’t an option. He set up a nest in your room within weeks of your first meeting, unable to be away from you for more than a few minutes.

Lately, he had been extra clingy, and very possessive, which was uncharacteristic for him. Usually he was pretty submissive and sweet, almost like a lap pet that wanted all of your attention… but now he was more like a guard dog, constantly on alert, his body always subtly in front of yours.

It was only when you woke up to him humping your leg, his face buried in your neck that you realized what was going on.

He was in some kind of heat or rut… whatever it was, it was making him cling to you, desperate to mate and keep you safe.

All he wanted was to be close to you. The first stage of his rut had him making a cozy little nest in your bed, then spending all his his time snuggling you, his cute fluffy tail wagging furiously as he pulled you in for more kisses and nibbles.

The next stage… you weren’t ready for. You had sec with Momo before, but this was his rut. He was insatiable, fucking into your cunt fast and hard, unlike to gentle, sweet love making you usually experienced.

And his stamina was way too high, one breeding session lasting nearly 5 hours. Every time he came, he bit down on your shoulder or neck, his hips fitting against you as he begged for your forgiveness.

“Sorry, so sorry… just need it so bad, angel! Need to… g-give you my litter!”

After each session, he ignored his own exhaustion and pampered you, purring and bathing you, letting your head rest on his chest as his cotton tail wagged. Momo felt terrible, breeding you for so long… but he just couldn’t help it! His rut made him so horny, and he could only focus on filling you with cum and impregnating you!

But he adored you so, making sure you were treated like a princess once your baby bump began to show. Momo was so proud, not able to keep his hands off of your belly.

“My princess… gonna be a good mommy, the best…”

[silverselfshippingchaos]

he really said that 💀💀💀 what a man 😍

[cathnospam]

Trigger warning to those that don’t like panic attacks, but becomes fluffy at the end

“Katsuki?”

His eyes were dark, he looks like he haven’t slept in weeks, and it’s only been a year since the war ended. Granted, everybody was finally able to sleep regularly again, but apparently you must have been wrong.

“I—“

He couldn’t get the words out, his fits were shaking from how hard we was clenching them, his tired eyes began to water, you knew.

“C’mere.” You pull him into your arms, you feel your shoulder dampening and it was a signal for you to squeeze tighter once you shut your door. You couldn’t even move feeling his arms squeeze tighter against your waist. “I’m right here.”

Even though Bakugo managed to live. Managed to pass though rehab, managed to become a big part of fighting against AFO he still has nightmares.

They started off as just seeing himself nearly die but he wakes up right before it happens. But now he’s having nightmares about you. How you took his place instead of him.

This nightmare he seen your body, lying there, tears dried by your eyes, by the time bakugo ran to you Shigiraki turned your body into dust.

It was horrifying.

He woke up in a frenzy, hot, sweating, immediately running out his room to your dorm, his heavy feet nearly sprinting to your room he needed to just double check he almost bust down your door if you haven’t opened it right as he arrived.

“You—-“

“It’s okay….you’re okay—“

“BUT YOU WEREN’T…you…you….” His voice was so shattered. He couldn’t explain it to you, but you had an inkling what he could’ve meant.

He has been going to your dorm a lot lately. Using the excuse “I’m just checking up on YOU.” But in reality it’s you checking on him. He’ll come right before bed and sleep over or come in while you’re sleep and lay on your couch and once with you on the opposite side of your bed.

You couldn’t move, hearing his sniffles tore your heart a little, his breathing was shallow you could feel his heart rate grow faster, his body was shaking and you immediately began to fall on your knees, back on the wall rubbing his back .”I’m right here Katsuki…it’s okay just match my breathing.”

Not wanting to panic either you regulated your breathing for him to copy you, his teeth were gritting to hard you felt it against your shoulder, “C’mon there you go…..just breathe….”

After a few minutes He began to calm down. Your shirt was damp with tears but you knew better than to force him to look at you. So you waited until he did the first move.

Bakugo covered his face with his palm, pausing before attempting to wipe all his tears off his face.

He failed.

You took his hand, palms so sweaty it was nearly slippery to hold up with a firm grip you guided him to your bed. “Stay here tonight.”

He didn’t reply nor negate, he just followed suit. He’d usually have his back facing you, but felt himself willingly fall onto your chest.

“They’re soft right?” You weakly joke about your breast he is laid on, trying to see if he’ll respond, you smile hearing a weak chuckle come out his nose before he snuggles himself between them deeper.

Your fingers run though his soft hair, his heartbeat was in tandem with yours as you felt his chest against your belly.

Bakugo usually handles his panic attacks alone, but for the first time he actually was so happy to have someone like you there with him. His teary eye peaks from the side, you wipe the remnant of tears from his cheek and he nearly melts to your touch.

It was probably the best sleep he has ever had in months thanks to you.

[oncasette]

𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗜𝗧 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗡

jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: 1.1k

Your head is spinning. You must be dreaming. There’s no way you’re actually kissing your best friend right now, not quite sure if he’s still your best friend at that moment or not, but not caring enough to pull back and check.

or the one where jj spills his feelings for his best friend.

a/n: i haven't seen s4 and i don't know if i'm going to, but here's this jj fic since i was feeling up for it? question mark? it's all fluff.

masterlist

“Done in there?” JJ calls from where he’s no doubt spread out on your bed. You can’t help the small laugh that trickles out of you as you open the door, still facing the mirror as you finish up your skincare routine. In the corner of the mirror, you catch JJ’s reflection fiddling with a lighter.

“Don’t burn down my bedroom,” you say. He looks up at you, catching your gaze in the mirror. He flips the spark wheel. A small flame erupts, already being bullied down by the high setting on your ceiling fan. 

“What? Don’t trust me?” he smirks. 

“Not even a bit,” you chirp, setting all of your creams and oils back into your medicine cabinet. 

He sets the lighter down on your nightstand. 

“Comfy?” you giggle, watching as he snuggles down further under your plush duvet. You’re glad you made him change, not sure you’d ever get the dirt and sweat from his clothes out of your sheets. He nods, humming. You feel his eyes tracking your movements as you shut the bathroom light off and slide under the covers beside him. It’s almost instantaneous that JJ molds to your side, pushing up your arm in order to lay his head against your shoulder, nose in your neck. You do your best to ignore the way your stomach flutters a bit. 

JJ had always been touchy with you. You like to think that he does it with everyone, that that was just his nature. You’d seen him sling an arm around Pope at the Boneyard, tug Kiara into a hug, spin her around, even, kiss John B on the cheek in some of his more emphatic moments. But, you couldn’t ignore the way he was with you. The lingering touches, the snuggling, the sleepovers, the kisses against your temple. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been out on the HMS without him putting his hat on you. It’s friendly enough for you to brush off, for the most part. For you to push it all down and justify his actions when the rest of the pogues prod you for information. 

It’s moments like this, though–alone, away from prying eyes–that you allow yourself to pretend. Just a little. 

You bring up a hand to his hair and run the tips of your nails across his scalp. He purrs, curling closer into you and you feel his eyelashes brush your skin as his eyes close. 

“‘S it raining?” he mumbles into you. His hand slides over your stomach as he reaches for the hand not currently in his hair. Slowly, nearly leaving goosebumps beneath his fingers, he intertwines his fingers with yours. There’s no way this is platonic. Right? Your brain screams at you. 

“What?” you hum, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. 

“Rain. From the sky. Outside.”

You look at the window.

“Yeah. Yeah, J, it’s raining.”

He smiles, kissing the skin already beneath his lips. That’s new.

“I like the rain,” he chirps, voice surprisingly drowsy for how energetic he’d been before you’d left for your shower. 

“Do you?”

He nods, humming. “Makes everything slow down a bit.”

“I didn’t think you liked slowing down,” you say, your fingers moving down from his hair to ghost over his back.

“I like slowing down when I’m with you,” he shrugs. You feel him shudder slightly when your nails gently scrape across his shoulder blades. “Plus, I look sexy when I’m all drenched like that.”

You snort and smack him on the shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for?” he scoffs, head snapping up to glare at you pitifully. 

“Smug bastard,” you laugh. He winks as his lips curl into a fittingly smug smirk.

“You love it,” he says. His hand squeezes yours, still held tight in his grasp. You don’t respond in words, instead opting to squeeze his hand back. You feel his heart rate jump against your ribs. His eyes flicker between yours. The smirk slowly drops into something a little less cocky. Something a little softer. Warmer. You watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. It’s only when his gaze moves down to your lips that your own breath stutters. That definitely can’t be platonic. 

He whispers your name so quietly you almost don’t hear it. You probably wouldn’t have if he hadn’t been so close. 

“I think I love you,” he says. What.

“I love you, too, J,” you say, pasting on your friendliest voice to try and ignore the way his breath is now fanning over your face. He smells like the gum he’d stolen from your car.

“No, I mean…” he clamps his eyes shut. “I do love you, like that, like a friend. Of course I do, you’re my best friend-”

“John B’s your best friend,” you cut him off, because there’s no way this is actually happening.

“Listen, just… I,” he drops his head against your sternum, frustration seeming to roll off of him in waves. 

“I’m sorry, I’m listening,” you say softly. 

“I don’t want to keep doing this,” he grunts.

“Doing what?”

“Pretending.”

Pretending.

“Pretending?” you ask, placing a hand on his cheek to pull his gaze back up to yours. You smile softly at the way he nuzzles into your palm. 

“You really don’t see it, do you?” he asks. His eyes are closed, his nose pressed against your thumb. “I thought I was being obvious.”

You need more than these clipped comments. Stupidly, something deeper in the back of your mind can’t settle for even the chance of you misconstruing this. Of being wrong.

“Obvious about what, J?”

“I already told you,” he whispers. He just barely kisses the pad of your thumb. 

“Tell me again,” you beg, holding your breath.

“I’m in love with you.”

“Good,” you hiccup.

“Good? That’s all you have to say? I’m pouring my heart out here, baby,” he huffs and your heart nearly stops altogether. A bewildered giggle slips out of you.

“That’s good because I… uh,” you swallow. “I love you, too.”

He doesn’t answer this time. He slides up the last couple of inches to press his lips against yours. His free hand comes up to cup your jaw, bringing your mouth even harder against his. His other hand squeezes yours for dear life. 

Your head is spinning. You must be dreaming. There’s no way you’re actually kissing your best friend right now, not quite sure if he’s still your best friend at that moment or not, but not caring enough to pull back and check. 

You’d kissed him before. On New Year’s Eve at the stroke of midnight. But, that had been a quick, chaste peck between friends and you’d been able to blame the fireworks behind your eyelids on the holiday, and this. This was different. Much, much different. There were sparks tingling down to the tips of your toes. You pull back when you can no longer justify ignoring your need for oxygen and nearly whine when JJ chases your lips. 

“I’m in love with you.” His voice is hoarse. 

“You said that,” you giggle, brain still a little hazy.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re going to get me to stop saying it now,” he says. His body weight is almost fully pressed onto you as he ducks his head to place short kisses against your neck. Your fingers find his hair again, combing through the silky strands. You mentally thank him for stealing your shampoo. 

[simonrileysfavteacup]

Taking care of Simon while he’d be sick is so funny. 

Okay, so he just got back from a long mission and he’s all cuddly and cute and everything. And during that first night of him being back, he can’t sleep and you notice (obviously). He’s coughing, his skin is red, his nose is all stuffy and he’s constantly sniffling. He’s sitting up, coughing, loud as fuck because he’s a fucking grandpa.

And you’re just being the sweet little thing you are, staring up at him from your lying position like “you good bro?” 

And this asshole just nods, laying back down and still coughing, shaking the whole fucking bed. Of course, you’re still staring at him all doe eyed before getting up to get him a glass of water. And when you come back to give it to him, he just shakes his head, “Fine, lovie.”

You pout but still leave the glass next to him on his bedside table. When you wake up the next morning, it’s empty. And so is the other side of your shared bed. Simon’s hunched over in the bathroom, running cold water over his even more red face. He looks up at you when you lean against the doorframe of the bathroom, staring at him with a gloomy look on your face. “Did you catch a cold?”

He shakes his head, looking away. 

Liar.

You just stare at him again for at least a good 2 minutes before giving up.

He stays denying that he’s sick, refusing to take any medication and only getting worse by the day. Lying in bed, coughing his heart out, assuring you he’s fine. 

He’s clearly not. 

And when it finally gets too bad, like his nose hurts when he sneezes, his throat closes up, and he feels too hot all the time, he’ll finally admit to you he’s sick. Crawling up to you, like a child, snuggling into you on your bed, sniffling every 2 minutes. 

And of course, the best girlfriend in the world will always take care of him. 

Making him soup, pressing a warm cloth to his head, feeding him his meds on time, taking good care of him. Best girlfriend ever. At least to him.

Because Simon Riley is the biggest baby in the world.

[mirohlayo]

F1 DRIVERS SLEEPING WITH YOU

FOR THE FIRST TIME

( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russel, verstappen & ricciardo )

warning : none, full of fluff

note : cutest thing I've ever written (I say that to every fics I write)

─ OSCAR PISTRI

Boy is half excited and half nervous. He's already dreading the moment, imagining all the possible scenarios in his head. What is he supposed to do? Stay on the side of your bed? Wrap his arms around you? Tangle his legs with yours? He's beyond stressed, and the very idea that you don't feel comfortable makes him panic even more. But the relief he felt when you just snuggled up to him. It was just... natural. His arms naturally wrapped around you as he gently stroked your hair, your head on his chest. He was soothed, and couldn't hold back a slight smile, feeling his body warm up, feeling his heart overflowing with love.

─ LANDO NORRIS

He plays it cool, confident, but inside he can't deny the fact that he's slightly panicking. Since the very day he met you, being head over heels for you, he has imagined this scenario hundreds of times. Obviously, he dreamed of finally sleeping with you, feeling your body fit perfectly with his and just being able to cuddle you all night. So when the day finally arrives, he tries to act as he imagined in his head. Both lying on the bed, he didn't wait a single second before pulling you against him, holding you tightly so that you couldn't escape. His cheeks are probably very pink, but it's adorable, just like the way you fell asleep. In each other's arms.

─ CHARLES LECLERC

He comes out of your bathroom after changing into his pajamas, and ends up finding you already ready for sleep, lying in your bed, which is now getting ready to be shared with your boyfriend. This is the first time you're going to sleep together. This information seems to paralyze Charles, who remains planted against the doorframe, not knowing if he should come join you now. You giggle weakly, seeing him completely lost and... a little embarrassed. When he sees you open your arms to encourage him to come join you, he is already nestling his head in the crook of your neck the next second, his arms around your waist. Oh and, no need to add that it was the best night of his life.

─ CARLOS SAINZ

You are already lying in bed, side by side. It must have been a good 5 minutes since you moved, not really knowing what to do. You would love to snuggle up against him, but maybe that's too much for a first night together? That's definitely not what Carlos thinks, who noticed that you were, well... not comfortable in your own bed. He slowly turns towards you, smiling softly at you, as if you were the most beautiful wonder in the world, before pressing your head against his chest, with a gentle gesture. Your body presses against him naturally, as he begins to caress your back lightly. He places a quick kiss on your hair, wishing you both a good night.

─ LEWIS HAMILTON

His heart melts just at the thought of finally being able to sleep with you. To be honest, you were looking forward to this moment, and he too could only think about that. He can't help but think about it every second, until your bodies are finally inches apart, under the warm duvet. Lewis can't wait any longer, sleep already overtaking him. Just your simple presence soothes him. Then, it is in a peaceful silence that your bodies finally touch each other, seeking each other's affection. You quietly close your eyes, relaxed, as he inhales your scent, already feeling himself slipping away into dreams. Best night ever, for sure.

─ GEORGE RUSSEL

The bed is all ready, the sheets are clean and the duvet freshly laundered. You burrow under the covers first, smiling softly at your boyfriend, who in turn slips under the duvet. You are neither too close nor too far, a reasonable distance but your faces close. Enough that you felt the heat coming from each other's bodies. You don't dare disturb the other person, or make the situation uncomfortable, so it's in these positions that you fall asleep. However, George's body ends up unconsciously searching for you in his sleep. His arms ended up wrapping you in a comforting embrace, his head finding a place in the crook of your neck. And a little smile appeared on his face during the night.

─ MAX VERSTAPPEN

He was the one who practically begged you to sleep together. He wanted to spend as much time with you as possible, and above all he wanted to be able to hold you in his arms as long as possible, even at night. So when you were finally free from work and could sleep with him for the first time, he almost jumped for joy. As soon as you set foot on your bed, he had already trapped you in his arms, peppering your face with kisses here and there. It's not even embarrassing, it's just pleasantly adorable and warm. As if you had always slept together since the start of your relationship. And now that your first night together has passed, there won't be another night where he sleeps alone. It's him and you, or he doesn't sleep.

─ DANIEL RICCIARDO

This man is literally always in a good mood, and never really seems stressed. Except when it comes to you, and especially your first night sleeping in the same bed. His heart is pounding, and he can't hide his nervous expression no matter how hard he tries. You can't deny the fact that you're also somewhat stressed. After all, this is one of your first intimate moments. He could tell you were nervous just like him. And that's why he immediately knew how to lighten the atmosphere, by joking about the situation. All your stress is gone as you laugh until you cry, and your boyfriend laughs out loud, savoring the sweet melody of your laughter. And so, tired from laughing too much, you fall asleep deeply, snuggled up warmly against each other.

[tbaluver]

hellooo!! i absolutely love your fluffy family imagines/hcs so so much! say, do you have a reaction idea on LADS men when their child cries because of them? like they unintentionally hurt their babies feelings or unknowingly broke their promise (cuz they were busy/forgot) or absolutely anything that comes to your lovely genius mind aaa :'3

thank you and hope you have an amazing daaaay!! (⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠)⁠♡

Making Their Child Cry- The Love And DeepSpace Men

in order: xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus genre: fluff fluff + imagine a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ thank you so much angel im happy to hear that! <3 this was such a cute idea i had soo much fun writing these and i had many scenarios for each one! i got most of my ideas thanks to @ilovemitsuya mwah ( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀) rafayel's part was also inspired by a mother and daughter from tiktok! <3 i lovee writing them as dads bc i just know they would make great dads and husbands! i hope you enjoy reading and i hope you also have an amazing day luv (∩˃o˂∩)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

“what?”

“santa isn’t real,” xavier says softly, not fully grasping the weight of the words he’s just dropped onto his son. xavier never saw the appeal of santa. the idea of someone sneaking into your house, leaving gifts, eating your cookies, and disappearing without a trace never sat well with him. but now, as he watches his son’s world crumble in front of him, he realizes how wrong it was to voice his opinions out loud, especially to his baby that still believes magic is real.

“b-but yes he is!” his son’s voice trembles, his lip quivering as tears begin to glisten in his eyes.

xavier’s heart sinks, his baby boy’s holiday magic is about to shatter and he didn’t realize that it would hurt this much to him. he reaches out but his son backs away, a tiny sob escapes his lips and runs away from xavier.

“momma! papa says santa isn’t real!” the words come out in sobs as your son clings desperately to your legs, his face wet with tears.

you gasp, your heart breaking hearing your baby boy cry as you scoop him into your arms. xavier watches, looking at you for a silent plea for help as you cradle your son close.

“hon it’s okay,” you murmur as you rock your baby boy gently. “santa’s real...it’s just that...well, your papa ate all of santa’s cookies last christmas and it made santa a little upset so right now, santa and papa aren’t exactly getting along. but i’m sure they’ll fix it.” you eye xavier, signaling him.

your son sniffles and wipes his nose with his sleeve, his little face scrunches, “h-he made santa upset! papa you have to fix it!”

xavier reaches out and wipes the last few stray tears from his son’s cheek, “alright, i’ll fix it. i promise.”

later that night

your son is fast asleep in his bed, his small frame curled up under the covers until tiny trails of sparkling light begin to swirl around his room. they twinkle like stars, softly glowing in his room.

your son stirs, his eyelids fluttering open, still heavy with sleep. he rubs his eyes as he tries to focus on the situation unfolding in front of him. at the foot of his bed, standing in a warm glow of light, is a santa and elf puppet.

“ho ho ho! hello there sweet child!” the santa puppet's voice exclaims but really it’s just xavier, hiding beside his small bed frame as he projects his voice through the puppet’s mouth. “i’m sorry i cannot be there in person right now,” the puppet- or xavier continues, “but i sent my best elf to deliver this as a message to you! your father and i have talked, and we have made up!” the elf puppet nods and claps enthusiastically.

your son’s eyes widen with joy, “really?! yay!!” hearing his son’s excitement and happiness makes his heart full and he wishes he can see the joy in his son’s face.

“you should sleep now,” the santa puppet says softly, “i’ll be seeing you again on christmas night. goodnight, little one!”

your son grins, wishing a goodbye to the santa puppet as he pulls the covers up to his chin and snuggles back into the warmth of his bed. but the excitement that was building up in his chest refuses to let him sleep fully. his eyes flutter once more and catches a glimpse of the twinkling lights and a trail of sparkling dust as the puppets disappear from his sight.

xavier peeks into his soon’s room, “is everything alright?” he whispers, stepping inside. his son sits up, wide-eyed with a grin plastered on his face.

“daddad! santa just spoke to me!” his voice filled with excitement and joy, making xavier smile.

he crouches down beside him, playing along as if he wasn’t there a few seconds ago. “really? i just spoke to him too.”

your son’s giggles and xavier can’t help but join in and laugh with him, “you guys are best friends now!”

“of course,” xavier says softly, “anything to make you happy. i’m sorry i upset you earlier.”

your son wraps his arms around his neck in a hug, “it’s okay dad. you never would upset me. i love you.”

xavier’s smile softens, returning the embrace. “i love you too, my little star,” he whispers, a small glow of dust still glowing in the room.

Zayne:

“we’re losing her!”

the panic in the room was almost tangible.

“don’t worry. it’s going to be okay,” dr. zayne replied calmly, even though he could feel the distress radiating through the room. his eyes remained focused on the patient in front of him.

earlier

“okay daddy ready?” his daughter’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she bounced up and down, clutching her beloved snow bear plushie. the little bear was dressed up as elsa from frozen and it was her most loved and cherished plushie she’s ever gotten.

zayne’s lips curled up into a smile from how cute his daughter was as he gives her a nod. he clears his throat before beginning. “let it go....let it goooo.” he sang flatly as tiny snowflakes and snowdrops danced in the air, falling gently on top of them. 

she gasped in delight as she watched the magic unfold before her eyes. to her it was way better than anything from the movie, it felt like real magic. she squealed with laughter, spinning in a circle until something unexpected happened.

an ice crystal drops into her plushie’s belly, forming a small tear on its soft stomach and its stuffing begins to fall out.

to zayne it was a minor mishap, just a small rip. but to his baby girl, it was an absolute catastrophe. her face twisted in shock and before zayne could even react, she screamed in horror, clutching her bear to her chest like she truly lost someone in a war.

“daddy!” she cries out, her tiny hands desperately trying to protect the bear as the stuffing slowly poured out. little did she know she was actually making it worse as she kept moving it around. “y-you monster!” her voice trembled.

hearing that made zayne’s heart sank but he swallowed his own disappointment and quickly scooped her into his arms. “i’m sorry, my little snowflake,” he says softly, rubbing her back as she hiccups with sobs. “it was an accident. we can fix her okay?”

she pulls away slightly, rubbing stray tears that fell from her eyes, “we can?”

zayne gives her a reassuring nod and a small smile, “i promise. she just needs a little surgery and she’ll be all better.” he brushes the hair from her face, helping her wipe away any tears with his thumb. “you must stay strong for her okay?”

he gently sets the plushie on the table in front of them, its belly exposed with cotton. “i’m going to get everything we need but i need you to stay and look out for her.” she nods seriously, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

zayne leaves the room momentarily and returns with a small pair of scissors, needle, and a thread. he kneels beside the table as his daughter stood nearby, watching anxiously.

the operation has begun.

zayne carefully snips away the thread, feeling the weight of his daughter’s gaze. a few clumps of stuffing accidentally falls out and she gasps, her eyes widening in panic.

“we’re losing her!” she cries, hiding behind zayne’s arms for comfort.

“don’t worry. it’s going to be okay,” dr. zayne replied calmly, even though he could feel the distress radiating through the room. his eyes remained focused on the patient in front of him. he continued to stitch, pulling the fabric of the bear back together, until the rip looked like it was never there. with one final knot, it was finished.

“there,” he gently smoothes her plushie’s fur, “all better now.”

her eyes widened, holding the bear closer to her chest. she squeezes it tightly, smiling widely. “thank you, you're the best!” she squeals, his heart lifting at the sight of her happiness.

she bites her lip and looks up at him, her voice small. “i-i’m sorry for calling you a monster papa,” she whispers.

zayne’s heart melted and scooped her up into a big hug, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of her small head. “it's alright my little snowflake. i know you didn’t mean it.”

she hugs him back tightly, her small frame nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “i love you daddy.”

“i love you too, dear. now let’s go get some deserving macaroons after our shift.”

Rafayel:

his son had always wanted to be just like rafayel. he’d watch with wide eyes as rafayel creates something beautiful in his studio. the way the artwork has come to life the moment he starts to paint or draw has always fascinated him.

as soon as his son announced that he had drawn something for him, rafayel couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride.

“alright, show me what you’ve got my little glub glub!” rafayel grins, his heart was racing with excitement to see what his son had created.

but the moment his son had turned his sketchbook around, he froze. a chuckle escapes before he could stifle it. the drawing was rafayel’s face and it was....certainly unique. many would call it abstract. the proportions were comedically off and the colors were, well, not quite what rafayel expected.

“wow! this is....nice!” rafayel says, forcing the words out with a grin while desperately fighting back the laugh that was threatening to escape.

“raf....” you whispered, pinching his arm as a warning, your eyes narrowing with concern. you could tell rafayel was trying to hold back the sarcasm and you feared that their son might pick up on it.

“ouch!” he winces dramatically but it didn’t stop his amusement from creeping in. “i mean seriously, where did you learn to do this? and is this....pigmentation? where were you all these years?!” he lets out a small laugh, digging himself deeper into the joke.

unfortunately, his son was not laughing. his son pulls the sketchbook away and hugs it tightly to his chest, hiding the drawing.

“nono!” rafayel scrambles to fix it, “i promise my little glub glub, it’s sooo good!” but his words could not mask the laughter still lingering in his throat.

a pout forms on his son’s lip, arms crossed, just like what his father would do. “then why are you and mommy laughing?” his voice trembled, tears threatening to spill in his eyes.

rafayel froze, guilt washing over him once he saw tears streaming down his cheeks. “glub glub, mommy doesn’t know anything about art!” he tries to explain, his tone trying to remain gentle as he tries to cover your face with a pillow. 

he pulls his baby boy into his arms, “hey hey i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you upset. your art is nice. i think you’ve got talent. i love it. i really do.”

your son didn’t respond for a few seconds but he relaxed a little later in rafayel’s arms. “you promise?”

rafayel nods, his lips curling into a smile as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of his baby son’s head., “i promise my little glub glub. now let’s frame your masterpiece on the fridge!”

your son squeals in joy, bouncing on the couch with excitement but you intervene with a teasing smile. “how about we let daddy display your masterpiece in his pieces as well?” you give rafayel a mischievous grin, watching as his eyes narrow at you

“that’s even better!” he says, trying not to drop his playful sarcasm. “see my little glub? i love you so so much that i’ll even put your beautiful artwork in mine.” he throws in a playful wink as he lifts his son into his arms for a tight hug.

Sylus:

your little girl had waited for sylus for hours. he had promised her playtime as much as she wants before bed. but now, now it was almost too late. she clutched her favorite crow plushie as if it was a stress ball. she sat in front of the window, glaring at the headlights of his vehicle that flashed by.

when the door finally swung open, it wasn’t the usual welcoming scene of you and your daughter running up to him and greeting him. instead it was just you greeting him, your lips met his in a soft and tender kiss and his baby girl, well, she glared at him with all the fury and intimidation she could muster.

“sweetie?” his eyebrows furrowed as he knelt down to meet her height but she only puffed out her cheeks further, gripping her poor crow plushie.

“you lied!” she points at him accusingly, “you promised playtime!” she whined, her voice going higher, a sign that she was this close bursting into tears.

he sighed deeply, “i’m sorry, sweetie. i didn’t-”

before he could finish his sentence, the crow plushie was thrown at his face that made him pause mid sentence.  he let out a long exhale, brushing it off. she was already upset and he did break her promise.

“i didn’t mean to break our promise my little dove,” he continues, “but i;m here now, okay? i’m here.” he extends his large hands to wipe any stray tears that were already forming in her eyes.

his heart shatters when he sees her bottom lip quivering as she sniffles in protest and when he sees tears starting to form and spill. he cooed softly, his large hands tenderly brushing the tears from her cheeks. “it’s okay sweetie. here. i have something to make it up to you.”

suddenly the door swings open and luke and kieran trots in, both dramatically holding up a mountain of her favorite dolls and toys. “little hunter!” they exclaimed in unison, striking a pose.

her eyes widened, noticing those were her favorite toys. the toys she had been dreaming and wanting for a while. “are those for me?” she gasped, her eyes sparkled with excitement.

sylus smiles, picking her up gently as she squeals in delight. her pout disappearing into a cute grin. “of course,” he replies, his voice much more playful and softer as he boops her tiny nose. “we can play as much as you want now.”

her little arms wrapped around his neck, not reaching all the way due to her tiny frame and his much larger frame. “thank you so much! i love you daddy!”

sylus chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “i love you too sweetie.”

you couldn’t help but watch in awe at the scene, “what do you say sweetie?”

she paused, her face scrunching up as her head drooped down. “i-i’m sorry for throwing my plushie at you,” she whispered, her cheeks rosy with embarrassment.

sylus lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. “it’s alright sweetie. let’s not let it happen again. we can always work things out differently okay?”

she nods, listening intently.

“now, let’s all play, yes?” he raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

the excitement in her eyes was truly adorable as she bounced in his arms, her little legs kicking with pure joy. “yes yes! let’s go!” she squealed, clapping her hands together in excitement.

luke and kieran had already made their way to her playroom and sylus held her close, guiding you to the room as well, his hand resting comfortably on your lower back.