#I feel dream would keep himself awake for many reasons

[toffeesbabbles]

@wickjump requested that I do hypersomnia, so I couldn't resist!

Given the name, I also decided to include sleeping habits for them

yapping under the cut

The difference between dream and ink is dream forces himself awake, and ink doesn't. Ink just struggles to sleep and doesn't really need to? Dream doesn't either, but the mental toll of his job often exhausts him. In my head, ink would need sleep eventually but just not as frequently as maybe normal skeletons would. Error actually has okay sleeping habits, better than the other two. Not that he doesn't have his own issues, but he sleeps far more often than the other two. He sleeps less often than classic, though.

[mysumeow]

︵ ☆ Malleus NSFW Alphabet (S-Z) Pt. 3

ᓚᘏᗢ WARNINGS: AFAB body reader. Brief cervix stuff mention. ᓚᘏᗢ A/N: i know cervix stuff irl is not that pleasurable to most, but in smut, i like it :D | ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ . . . TWST MASTERLIST | PART 1 | PART 2

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

You could try outlasting him if you’d like to, although it’s more likely that you’ll tire out before he does.

He’ll last as long as you want it to last; energy’s not a limitation. If you’re in the mood for more than one round, he’s up for it.

That’s under normal circumstances. When he enters his rut, however, it’s another story. Just once isn’t enough. If you’re giving him a hand (or more than that), be prepared for a long night. For several days.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

In terms of technology, Malleus is not what you would think of as careful, considering how often he breaks his phone and Tamagotchi. If he owned a toy, it would meet the same fate as those.

Besides, he doesn’t deem toys necessary. His hand gets the job done.

This reasoning goes in hand regarding the use of a toy on you: unnecessary. Why would he use that when his fingers, his mouth, and his dick can provide you with pleasure. His cock is big enough to give you the stretch you crave, the warmth you seek that a measly toy won’t provide.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Most of the time, he’s pleasing. Giving you what you need.

When he’s not, he’s cruel. You aren’t sure whether he uses that excuse of wanting to wallow in you to prolong your suffering, or he means it. When you need him to go faster, to ravage you… Instead, his pace is unhurried, gripping your hips with decided strength to keep you in place, not letting you buck your hips to reach that orgasm that’s just there but not quite…

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

For someone that’s not experienced, he controls his volume well. Even when he speaks, his voice is collected. During sex, he’s not loud, but each groan is like a reward. They’re so pleasant to listen to. His words might stutter a bit when he’s exerting himself, but he keeps it low.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sometimes he gets an urge to bind your hands. For you to grant your pleasure to his mercy. To see how far he can push before you start begging him to let you orgasm. Or, on the contrary, if you're bratty, he wants to see for how long you can keep it up.

If he can be a menace when in bed under normal conditions...if you willingly let him tie your hands to the bed post, be prepared for a long night.

X = X-ray

Even if you’re dripping wet, it can be a bit of a challenge to take it all. It stretches you in a way unlike anything else you’ve tried before, and you could soon find yourself unsatisfied if you try to find that same feeling with a toy or your hand. Even by fae standards, he’s above average in size. Once you get used to his length, you’ll feel the tip stimulate your cervix.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Since his feelings for you grew to the point of no return, he finds himself thinking about you a lot more often. Those thoughts arise with more mild intentions, such as taking a stroll across campus with you to take in the true majesty of gargoyles, see how you take care of his pet Tamagotchi…the ideas spiral into something less idle and more salacious. He itches to have you underneath him again, to clutch your legs open while he seizes everything you have to offer, to worship you with kisses—suddenly, there’s a strain under his pants.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Malleus catches his breath faster than you do, and if he notices you’re drowsy, he’ll hold you and wait for you to fall asleep first. He’s still got energy left, so he stays awake a little longer than you do. He can’t fight back against somnolence when you look that placid in dreams, and after a moment, he falls asleep too.

[jingyuan-s]

“ and in my dreams, i see you. ”

notes. by the law of jay i have been tasked with making my first post here a dan heng one. everyone say thank you jay.

premise. a nightmare of your demise causes him to seek your comfort.

wc. 1.3k

warnings. gn!reader. reader is a member of the astral express, depiction of reader dying but it's not real, blood and injuries, fluff, hurt/comfort, pre-relationship, not proofread.

nightmares were something dan heng was incredibly familiar with. it's not something he's let get to him, and he didn't have as many nightmares as he used to. but for one reason or another, that seemed to change.

it started off small. bad dreams of explorations gone wrong, of memories he could no longer remember. these were ones he had been used to, ones that he expected to have when his nightmares would rear their head.

so when he had drifted off on a seat in the parlor car while reading one of the books he had recently bought from their travels, dan heng didn't expect to dream at all.

but it seems as though his subconscious had other plans.

the feeling of blood on his hands left him feeling sick to his stomach. he stared down at his hands, dazed and confused before becoming aware of the strained gasps for air coming from behind him.

he couldn't see his surroundings. everything was dark, covered in a thick fog that burned his eyes.

"dan heng," the gasped sound of a voice he could recognize anywhere filled the silence, and dan heng's body was moving before his mind could fully process what was happening around him.

his eyes strained, but he could make out your figure lying on the ground. blood was pooling beneath you, and the deep gash in your chest was enough to make him feel dizzy.

he was on his knees next to you before he could blink, his hands shaking as he carefully gathers you in his arms. you wince, and he can feel blood—your blood—seeping into his clothes, staining his skin.

"you're going to be okay," were the first words he uttered. his voice sounded foreign to him, shaking and quiet. like if he spoke any louder, you'd disappear from his sight.

there's this quiet voice in the back of his head, a brief feeling of awareness. this wasn't real.

but that knowledge did little to comfort him.

your head rested against his arm, your gaze unfocused as you stared up at him. your lips were moving, but dan heng couldn't hear a single word you were saying.

his ears were ringing, his gaze zoning in on your injury. the rapid rise and fall of your chest, and the way your eyes were taking longer to open with each blink.

"no. no, keep your eyes open," he says, panic bleeding into his voice when you close your eyes. it was like the entire world came crashing down when you stopped breathing.

but before dan heng could mourn your death, he was jerking awake with a harsh gasp, shooting up from his seat and nearly knocking the table over from the sheer force of his movements.

the book he had been reading had fallen onto the ground, opened on some random page. his chest was heaving, sweat clinging to his skin, his heart pounding.

his hands shook as he glanced down at them, and the relief he felt was almost overwhelming when he saw they were clean of blood.

"dan heng?" the sound of himeko's voice snaps him out of his stupor, and he meets her gaze. she had a small cup of coffee in her hands, and he didn't miss the look of concern etched in her features.

"i'm fine." he responds, not giving the woman a chance to voice her concern, "...i'm sorry if i startled you." he adds in a quiet murmur, bending down to pick his book up from the ground, setting it on the table.

there's no way he could focus on reading anymore, his mind a mess. he excuses himself rather quickly, making a silent note to apologize to himeko for brushing her off later.

right now, all he wanted was to make sure you were okay.

he was painfully tense as he made his way from the parlor car to the passenger cabins, and he hesitated to even enter your room, standing outside your door.

you were alive. it was just a dream.

yet... he feared. what if he opened this door, and you were gone? it's stupid, irrational, and devoid of all logic. but still.

with a soft knock on your door, he doesn't open it until he hears your voice grant him permission.

you were laying in your bed, wearing your pajamas and scrolling through your phone. you were probably about to sleep before he had dropped in. it made him feel bad, but he couldn't stop himself from stepping into your room, the door softly shutting behind him.

"you okay?" you ask, sitting up a bit. it wasn't unusual for dan heng to end up in your room.

you were the person he was closest to the most out of everyone else on the express, and he found himself naturally gravitating towards you.

but it was no doubt obvious that he was not okay.

he'd been half tempted to just tell you he was fine and leave without explanation. he almost did, too. but the words get caught in his throat, and when he's finally able to speak, he says something entirely different.

"can i sleep here tonight?"

even he was shocked by his request, brows furrowing just a bit to convey his inner confliction.

you stare at him for a few seconds, but you nod and scoot over on your bed, setting your phone and and pulling the covers back. if he weren't in the state he was, he'd probably be embarrassed by how quickly he got into the bed next to you.

fixing the covers so its over the both of you, you lean back, your back pressing against the wall as you stare at him, "sooo... gonna tell me what happened to make you wanna have a sleepover?" you ask, keeping your tone light.

he liked that about you. the way you voiced your concern without making it obvious, giving him the option to be as detailed in his explanation as he wanted. it was small, something you probably didn't even notice.

but he did.

"i had a nightmare," he simply responds. he doesn't offer more explanation than that. how is he supposed to tell you that his nightmare had been about you dying? that the feeling of your blood on his hands had terrified him to his core in such a way he's never experienced before?

and you don't press for more. you just softly hum, "yeah, i get it. nightmares suck," you say, a short yawn coming from you as you slowly shimmy down until you're laying down.

dan heng finds himself following suit, staring up at the ceiling as you roll onto your side to face him.

"but that's all it was. a nightmare. instead of focusing on something your mind made up, you should focus on something real, yeah?" you lightly poke his side as you speak, causing him to look over at you.

the dim lighting in your room bathed you in a softness that had dan heng's heart stuttering. the small smile on your face did nothing to help.

"...yeah." he quietly responds, finding it impossible to say anything else. your smile grew just a bit, and you're rolling over so your back is facing him, whispering a soft 'goodnight'.

the room falls quiet after that, save for the sound of your breathing. dan heng doesn't know how long he lays there, listening to your breaths. it does more to comfort him than words ever could, his body slowly relaxing as he slowly rolls on his side to stare at your back.

for months, he had been running from his blossoming feelings for you. it had been easy to ignore, but not anymore. not when he's become painfully aware of the fact that he could lose you at any given moment.

he reaches out, but stops just shy of touching you. his hand twitches, desperate for the contact, before it falls onto the mattress with a soft thud.

"i love you." he whispers back.

his confession goes unheard, and he lets his eyes close.

[melwnst]

────── ⋆⋅☆BAD DREAMS PROTECTOR, DEAN WINCHESTER

summary. Dean tries to be there for you when you have nightmares.

established relationship, Dean is just so…sweet.

word count. 831

please interact and request if you have anything for me<3 this is loosely based on this YouTube video I stumbled upon last night! Helped me fall asleep lol. He’s so precious.

supernatural masterlist

my full masterlist/support my work!

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You know that you’re screaming, but you can’t stop. Your throat is burning, your hands are hurting from gripping the sheets so tight, and it’s like you’re awake but you can’t physically wake up, you’re trapped.

This isn’t the first time, so Dean sleeps with one eye open. It’s not like he’s used to sleeping well anyway, he barely sleeps at all because he’s always on alert, but with you? He wouldn’t mind having to stay awake every night for the rest of his life if he has to.

It started gradually. Most nights, you’d just wake up in sweat, and Dean would hear you move, but wouldn’t know about the nightmare, you wouldn’t tell him anyway thinking he has enough to worry about as it is.

Then the screaming starts, the panic and the screeching hoping to reach even another galaxy if it helps, because most times you can’t wake up, so you scream. You scream until your throat bleeds. You scream until it hurts so much that you have no choice but to wake up. You scream because you know that Dean is next to you trying his best to wake you up.

It keeps happening though. After the first night you hope and pray that it was a one time thing. But the second night hits, and you’re already sore. You haven’t been able to count how many nights it’s been now.

But you’re back to screaming for what feels like the hundredth time. Dean is already by your side the moment he hears you move. You’re not even screaming yet, but he’s right there with you, and god help him something hurts you even if it’s all in your head. He can’t stand the thought of that.

He shakes you, at least he tries, but no can do. You know you’re awake, you feel him, you hear him, but the images are still here, and you can’t stop. No matter how hard you try, the screaming doesn’t stop. Until it does. You’re not sure how long it’s been, how long it lasted. It could’ve been seconds, it could’ve been hours. You’re sure you heard Sam come it at some point, asking if you were okay, but Dean did what Dean does, he told him it was fine, that he didn’t need his help.

Dean holds you, you’re not screaming anymore, you’re afraid to speak because it already burns. But he holds you. His arms are around you, and he’s telling you that everything is going to be okay, he tells you not to speak, and he tells you that you’re okay. He’s trying to make you believe that, it’ll be okay. But it won’t. To you- at least, it won’t. Because you don’t even know why the nightmares started in the first place. You’ve been through rough times, all three of you, but you seemed to be doing alright. The last hunt wasn’t anything different than usually, it wasn’t that haunting, or that scary, you were used to it. You try to rack your brain to find an answer. If it’s something wrong with you, or if you’re losing your mind.

Dean holds you through it.

Dean understands, because the reason why he doesn’t sleep isn’t just to keep an eye on you, it’s because he’s afraid he’ll wake up screaming too. He can’t remember the last night he slept for more than 10 minutes at a time.

‘Shh. You’re okay. Take it easy.’ He tries to reassure you, maybe he’s even trying to make himself believe that. You hear him, and that’s when you realize that you completely crumbled, you’re a mess. You can’t even recall what the nightmare was about, but to leave you in such state, it must’ve been horrible. You’re lying in dean’s arms, and you have no control over what falls from your eyes. It just does- and you let it. Dean lets it- because he understands. Dean lets it- because he’s afraid that if he doesn’t, you’ll do more than just break, you’ll go insane. Maybe he will too.

‘It’s okay, I’m right here.’ He doesn’t have to tell you it was just a bad dream, you know. He doesn’t have to lie. He’s here- and that matters- that helps.

‘You wanna tell me about it?’ One of his hand is in your hair, gently tracing patterns there.

‘I-no I don’t remember.’ Your eyes are open still, and you look confused. Dean can’t see it, but he feels it in your voice.

‘That’s alright sweetheart. Just try to rest.’ His voice is whispery, like he’s scared that if he talks too loud, he’ll just hurt you more.

But you listen to him. You lay on his chest, and the sound of his heartbeat calms you down. You know it’ll happen again, but you’ll figure it out, because you always do. And with Dean by your side, you start to believe that maybe it’s not so bullshit.

Maybe you’ll be fine.

[mejaemin]

how to kick someone out of your house - park jisung

day one of my valentine’s day countdown! ♡

wc: 0.7k

summary: you and jisung would never host hangouts for the sole reason of hating the idea of having to kick them out. what better way to do so than avoiding it altogether?

warning: socially anxious ji and reader, this is literally so me, fluff, featuring the rest of dream! ji and reader get very much babied in this but its cute

an: this was heavily inspired by my own hatred for inviting people over, because jisung and reader’s dilemma is so real !!! how are you supposed to tell people when they need to leave ?!?! i feel like there isn’t a single way that isn’t like kinda mean

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

the group is small, only being filled with jisung’s main friends but it feels so much bigger. they can get quite loud, altogether creating a sound loud enough to compensate for a small crowd. you’re tucked into his arm, watching a tv show that no one else is paying attention to while the boys engage in whatever wild conversation they’re having. some are making odd or inappropriate jokes, but you’re too preoccupied to laugh at any of it.

truthfully, you’d been dreading this get-together as soon as it was brought up. you already dealt with people enough today as work, but it was special for jisung and despite him not giving you much warning to mentally prepare, you still went to make him happy. it was quite overstimulating, and they’ve been over for quite a while, and you sleepily rub your eyes with a pout while you rest your head on jisung’s shoulder.

you can tell he’s starting to get there too, not being as responsive to the conversation. he leans back a little more against the couch, slouching and bringing you with him. after a few more detached responses, he pulls his phone from his pocket and begins texting you, looking at you expectantly.

ji 🐹: do you also really want everyone to go home or is it just me?

you: no, me too.. i’m so tired i can barely keep my eyes open ;(

ji 🐹: this is why i hate having them over.. how am i supposed to say, “i’m tired, can you get out now?” that’s so scary (ㅠ﹏���)

you: babyyy i cant do it either.. i’m no better than you!

ji 🐹: maybe we just fall asleep here? do you think they’ll get the message?

you: let’s do it!! anything to avoid having to say it out loud..

after shutting both your phones, you can’t help but giggle at your conversation. you’re both so similar, anxious and dreading the idea of confrontation. jisung’s arm wraps around your shoulder a little tighter, allowing you to rest your head on his. with your knees to your chest, you bring the blanket a little closer, covering you and him (mostly you) with it. you pull the oversized hood of jisung’s hoodie over your head, and finally let your eyes shut. eventually he falls silent and the weight of his head lands on yours, and you eventually fall asleep. one of the many skills you’ve developed since dating jisung was the ability to tune out his friends voices, and it’s something you’re very grateful for in this moment.

after a good while, your eyes finally open, and your heart nearly leaps out of its chest. everyone’s gone now, and not only is it dead silent but the lights were shut off. when you pull out your phone, immediately going to check the whereabouts of your guests, you finally relax into the back of the couch. the boys left messages in your shared group chat, taking pictures of you two sleeping while cooing about ‘how cute the babies are when they’re sleepy’ and how they were ‘soso responsible and helped put you both to bed’. looking down, you see the fluffy comforter from jisung’s bed over your laps. next to you, the boy himself is still asleep, neck in an incredibly uncomfortable position as he drools into his hand.

snapping a picture, you send it to them with a thank you message before shutting your phone off and kissing jisung awake. his brows furrow, putting his hands out in front of him as he sits up.

“hey, don’t.. don’t do that when they’re.. oh.” always so shy in front of his friends, he leans away from your lips before his eyes fully open and he notices their departure.

you smile, albeit tiredly, using your sleeve to wipe the corner of his mouth before leaning in to give him a hug. he thanks everything he loves that the lights are off, hiding his flushed cheeks while you do so.

sitting up, you take a minute to stretch. “they left, finally.”

he’s already up, taking the blankets in one arm and yours in the other to take you back to his bedroom. “oh, i’m so happy our plan worked. i was really dreading having to say something…”

he lays down first, opening an arm for you to rest your head on before pulling both blankets over your bodies. nuzzling your head against his shoulder you get comfortable again, ready to fall back asleep. you don’t even bother saying anything, simply nodding in response. you’re too sleepy to continue making conversation, and you know he is too, both of you drained from having to talk to people for so long.

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[skywwwalker]

— Morning Smoke

💜 — Synopsis. You knew you had a thing for the one person who had a clear distaste towards you. But maybe having a wet dream about him- while sleeping in the same room as him- was probably a good thing.

💜 — Warnings. Rushed writing. Unedited. Dry humping. Clothed grinding. Reader and Spencer smoke cigarettes.

One year, eleven months, and six days. Thats how long you’d been working for the BAU catching serial killers, bombers, and rapists by observing every detail if their crime. You’re a valuable asset to the team, your brain working on the same page as the rest of the team with just a different design. 

During your time at the BAU, you recieved many titles. Caffeine fiend(Aaron), best friend(Penny), mama (Derek), and idiot- affectionately- (Emily). The only person that hadn’t called you anything other than your first or last name, or agent was Spencer Reid.

There was a barrier between the two of you- unspoken, of course, but there was just some kind of wall seperating you from him. You didn’t blame Spencer for keeping you at at arm’s length: you were just some new agent who would eventually transfer. Admittedly, it hurt when Spencer politely uninvited himself from the activities you went along with. And it felt like a gut punch when Spencer chose the farthest seat from you on the jet and chose to move away from you while giving profiles to the police. But you figured he had his reasons.

“Y/n,” Emily murmured, nudging your arm. You looked up, bleary eyes focussing on the dark haired woman in front of you. You blinked.

“What’s- hey!” You cried out indignantly as Emily snatched the cold cup if coffee you had started to reach for. “Emily.”

“It’s time to go back to the hotel. Hotch’s orders,” the dark haired woman said, nodding to the team behind you.

You nodded. “Okay.” You stood up and hastily tucked papers into the manilla folder you were working on. “I’m ready.”

“Put those files down, y/n,” Hotch commanded, raising a tired eyebrow in your direction. “If I’m tired, you have to be a dead woman walking.”

You put the file down and pulled your coat on without protest. You’d only actually seen Hotch exhausted a handful of times. And Hotch was right: you did feel like you were about to fall over. Maybe having an iron deficiency and drinking coffee off an empty stomach wasn’t a very pleasant experience…

The ride to the hotel was over in a blink of an eye- a really ling blink apparently. You hadn’t even known you had reached the hotel until the inevitable and only boy genius Spencer Reid shook your shoulder gently to wake you up. Truly, you thought you were dreaming when you opened your eyes and Spencer’s face surrounded by a mat of curly hair greated you. His furrowd eyebrows relaxed when you looked around.

“Let’s go, l/n. You’re rooming with me,” Spencer told you after locking the car.

If you were in the right state of mind, you probably would have bent over giggling from the way Spencer put his arm around you as he led you into the building. But you weren’t so you just rested your head in the juncture if his shoulder and neck. He smelled good for someone who’d been awake for God knows how long. If you concentrated you thought you could feel the heat of his palm around you, moving in teeny tiny circles.

By the time you reached the bedroom you were practically unconscious in Spencer’s arms, yours and his go-bag around Spencer’s other arm. Spencer gently set you down on the bed closest to the door and put your go-bag in the bed beside you. “You should probably get changed, but I know how tired you are. I’ll shower tonight so you can shower tomorrow,” he explained, brushing a baby hair out of your line of sight. “Goodnight.”

“G’night, Spence,” you mumbled, eyes caught in the way Spencer’s lips moved and twitched. He was an expressive man when he was tired, and you caught the rare smile that graced his lips.

You hoped you would remember the blush on his cheekbones that matched the color of his lips when you woke up the next morning.

Birds chirped. The bright sun shone through the blinds of your home, patterning your room with strips of orangey-yellow. You turned over and saw him.

“Hey, you,” Spencer greeted. His hand came to rest gently on your cheek and pull you up to his pink lips. Your leg fluidly moved to straddle Spencer’s right leg.

Breathlessly you muttered a “good morning” before your hand tangled in Spencer’s curly hair, tugging his head down to meet your desperate kisses.

Spencer moved his thigh up to rub harshly on your core. You gasped sharply and ground down to meet Spencer’s thigh. “Oh fuck,” you whispered, watching Spencer’s back arch as you palmed the massive tent in his pants.

A strangled cry left your lips when Spencer’s massive hands fell onto your hips and controlled your movements. “That’s my girl,” Spencer growled, your hands feeling up Spencer’s chest and tracing the curves and lines of his neck. As your orgasm approached, your hands grasped Spencer’s face and harshly pulled him into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you murmured, eyes fluttering closed.

“Y/n,” Spencer murmured, voice low.

“Fuck,” you cursed. “Jus’ like that,” you slurred.

“Y/n,” Spencer repeated, one hand sliding up to your shoulder.

Your jaw clenched and your hips jerked violently.

“Y/n.”

You shot up in bed, sweat soaking your forhead and hair. You looked around wildly, chest heaving. 

In front of you sat Spencer Walter Reid, eyes beady with sleep. “Are you okay? You sounded like you were having a nightmare-?”

“Fuck, fuck,” you whispered, running a hand through your hair. “I’m- yeah I’m alright. I just-“ you exhaled. “Go back to bed, Reid, I’m alright.”

“A-Are you sure?”

You wanted to groan. The ruins of a spoiled orgasm simmered away in your blood. “Yes. I just- Yeah it was a nightmare. I’m gonna- go get ready.”

“L/n, it is 4 o’clock in the morning.”

You thanked the dark lighting for concealing the dark patch of your pants due to your arousal. “It’s- Please go back to bed.”

“Talk to me,” Spencer pleaded, grabbing your hand.

“It’s nothing, Reid. There’s nothing to talk about. Go to bed.”

“It’s a proven fact that people who discuss their nightmares with someone increase their happiness and healing process by more than 50%,” Spencer rushed.

“Reid it’s embarrassing. I can’t-“ you shook your head. “I’ll- please, Reid.”

The moonlight glinted in his eyes as he searched you for answers he knew you wouldn’t give him. “Are you- y/n. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Your jaw tightened and you looked away. Your thighs burned- you must have been humping the blanket between your thighs. “Reid, you don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

You threw your hands up. “I know you don’t like me, Reid. It’s kind of obvious, so I’m just saying that you don’t need to have a therapy session because we’re rooming together.”

Spencer genuinely looked offended. “I don’t hate you,” he murmured. “I never have.”

You scoffed and stood up, dream completely forgotten. “Could have fooled me, Reid. Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You left Spencer on your bed, bringing your go-bag to the tiny bathroom.

— 💜

After scrubbing you skin raw you finally exited the shower and pulled your hair into a braided updo before pulling on some clean clothes.

The sky was still dark when you exited the hotel, cigarette box in hand.

You sat in the ground, smart enough to know not to willingly wander too far outside of the vicinity of the rest of the team while at an unfamiliar location. “Goddamnit,” you murmured, lighting up a cigarette and watching the sun start to stain the concrete.

Visions of dead bodies filled your mind. Empty coffee cups getting tossed into a trash can, bloodstained hands as you ushered a victim away from the unsub, the ringing in your ears after an SUV blew up near you. When you joined the BAU you hadn’t known that every day you looked into the eyes of those possessed by evil, you would lose a part of your soul trying to save each and every person you saw.

But the team had it’s pros. A group of people you mostly called family, good pay, paid sick leave, mostly free flights, a badass title, and introduction to some very fine specimens (read: Spencer Walter Reid).

Speaking of Spencer, you were thinking of the conversation you both had. ‘I don’t hate you. I never have’. You snorted and lit another cigarette, holding the smoke in your lungs until familiar white spots danced in your vision.

“Y/n.”

You looked up. Spencer stood near you, hands fidgeting. You could see his eyes avoiding yours and suddenly you felt like laughing. After all of this time thinking one of the hottest people you’d ever met hated you, he was standing- nervous- in front of you. “Yeah?”

Spencer sat beside you. “Didn’t know you smoked,” he tried, looking towards the rising sun.

“You refused to make comversation with me for about a month when I started,” you said lowly. When Spencer sighed beside you, you added “I don’t normally. Just when… things happen.”

Spencer nodded. “Oh.”

Silence fell over the two of you as you exhaled. You offered the cigarette to Spencer, raising an eyebrow when he accepted.

“I want to talk to you,” Soencer said finally, snuffing out the cigarette.

You lit another one. “So talk.”

“Well, I… I’m sorry.”

When Spencer didn’t say anything for another few seconds, you turned to him. “Is that all?”

Spencer dropped his head into his hands. “Look, I knew I was keeping you at arm’s length. I thought… I thought keeping you away would make sure that I didn’t…” Spencer sighed.

“Reid, I need tou to really spell it out for me. I can’t keep dancing around your riddles,” you said, facing the sun.

“I love you, y/n. I thought that if I didn’t talk to you, let these feelings grow… Maybe I could harbor my attraction to you.” 

You felt your heart skip in your chest.  “You didn’t consider telling me this? What if I felt the same?”

Spencer looked at you, a confused look in his eyes. “You didn’t like me like that and I couldn’t force you to love me too. You’re way too good for me anyway.”

“I do,” you reply, nodding. “And I’m not too good for you, Spencer. If anything, you should find better than me.”

Prolonged eye contact and silence fell over the both of you.

“Ask me now, Spencer. Make up for lost time.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Spencer lips at your request. “Do you like me like I like you, y/n?”

You nodded, mirroring Spencer’s smile. “I do like you the way you like me, Spencer.”

“Does that mean I can kiss you?” Spencer asked immediately, eyes dropping to your lips.

You closed the distance between the two of you, hand sliding up the nape of Spencer’s neck to tangle in his curls. Spencer’s lips were skilled, leaving you wanting more as he pulled away.

“So, about that dream I had earlier,” you started.

A sly smirk replaced the smile on Spencer’s face. “I knew what you were dreaming about, I just couldn’t stand listen to you knowing how weird it would be for me to face you at work the next morning.”

You felt your face warm up at Spencer’s words. “Oh. Well. Sorry for waking you up, then.”

Spencer just shrugged. “I’m not- you sound very nice. I guess I will admit the fact that I told you about talking about your dreams was completely false. I just wanted to pry.”

You shook your head with laughter, the sun peeking up even further in the sky.

[sulumuns-dootah]

Can I please request a whb king's reaction to actress/actor mc but this time mc is in a dramatically sweet or cringy romance movie as the main lead? With the ending being the main couple having a child time skip cuz like why not (asmo's breeding kink...)

WHB kings w/ a romance movie actor reader

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

As much as Satan tries to enjoy the movie, it's not exactly his cup of tea

It will be kinda hard for him to stay focused, but will try his hardest

If there's some drama and maybe fighting that ends with a kiss, he's immediately into it

Also, he hates to admit it, but he's jealous of your co-star

So to somehow keep himself entertained, he'll look for ways to trashtalk them and the things they say

(Pointing out that it's just a script they're reading is useless)

       ༺☆༻

I also don't see Mammon as romance movie enjoyer, but he doesn't hate them either

There are a few romance movies you can get him to enjoy and yours is one of them

Mammon is especially interested in the part where the main couple moves into their dream house

He can't help but wonder what would be your dream home

And don't get me started on the wedding ring

The one that he'll get you, should you want one, will be way bigger and better than whatever that tiny stone was in the movie

       ༺☆༻

Cheesy romance movies are Leviathan's secret guilty pleasure

Sure, he will watch your movie and even like it, but won't tell you he did

His envy gets triggered every time there's a scene between the main couple wiht them touching or kissing

Sure, it's just one kiss on screen, but how many rehearsals and failed shots were there before you nailed it? He doesn't even want to try to guess

If he sees your co-star anywhere around you again, he can't be responsible for his actions

       ༺☆༻

Watching movies with Beel is fun for the same reason it's frustrating to show him the movie you starred in

He'll watch the movie whole, but focus on the exactly wrong thing

It's always something random too

I imagine Beel's the type to make '(a scene)but it just zooms in on random items' movie edits

Will point out background mistakes like missing flowerpots or extras changing clothes mid-scene

Only when it's solely you, centered in the shot, he'll finally pay attention to your character

       ༺☆༻

Belphie tries really hard to stay awake, he really does

But to him unless it's anime, it's kinda boring

Where's the superpowers? the cursed beings? the jojo stands?

If there's Beleth with you in the room, it's to Belphie's benefit

Belphie'll be awake as you're settling in to watch the movie and by the time you stop checking in on him, he'll be out

And then all that Beleth needs to do, is nudge him awake before you start asking for his opinion

       ༺☆༻

Asmo loves cheesy romance movies!

They remind him of his past lover and some of them even have sex scenes

And sometimes you can even cach him on the verge of crying once the big movie climax happens :)

So now that you're playing in one, he's found the one he'll keep rewatching over and over

Ooh, but if there's a sex scene in your movie, the mood drastically changes

Screw the movie... Asmo suddenly feels like rewriting the movie and showing you exactly what he'd do differently (you already know where this goes)

And the movie time skip to children is absolutely one of his favorite parts

Too bad he can't actually make you pregnant bc of his past lover's curse bc he would absolutely love to have a mini army of mini you's running around Hell

       ༺☆༻

If you ask, Lucifer would tell you that he doesn't have a movie preference, but romace movies are one of them

Generally, any movie that he can watch with the rest of the Paradise Lost demons without them arguing over it is a good one

Lucifer loves learning about the human experience so any realistic movie is a nice way of him to find out more

As you show him your movie, he'll watch it carefully and remember from it way more than even you could

The final scene with the main couple and their kids makes him smile

Similarly to Asmo, he can't help but wonder what it would be like to have a mini halfling that looks like the two of you combined, running around

[r0-boat]

I can’t put into words how much I need to wake Beplphegor or Beleth up with head man 😞 I need to wake up first thing in the morning and immediately wake them up by sucking them off </3

Hi I always take an excuse to write Beleth

Because he shares the same name as a character that is my fictional husband!

And of course, Belphegor too because they're always a package deal to me

Beleth & Belphegor Cock sucking Drabble

Beleth x Fem!Reader x Belphegor

(Fem!reader, literally only because of the "good girl" there's nothing else alluding to their gender)

Beleth

Managing and running an entire country by ourself is hard work but it has its perks. Even though he wasn't really the type of person to like special treatment and all that.

Of course for certain people that was an exception.

If only the actual King of Sloth knew what he was missing. A secret he'll take to his grave. As much as he wants His king to win the descendant of Solomon's favor, Belphegor is still a rival.

So he would never tell how many times you hide underneath his desk cock snug down your throat keeping him nice wet and warm as he sits at his desk and works.

His left hand stroking your head while the other reading and signing another document.

"Good girl... Keep'n me nice n' hard till I'm finished." He purrs. Your throat squeezes around him He could feel every movement in your muscle as you try to swallow or moan. You're pretty lips stretched so nicely. What a pretty sight and it's all for him. 'Sorry your Maj if only you weren't asleep all the time.' He chuckled to himself.

Belphegor

Belphegor felt his consciousness begin to stir; He tried to stay asleep reluctantly as currently he was balls deep inside you in his dream, Your sexy fuckable body bouncing up and down as his nails dug into your part little ass, feeling your walls squeezed down on him with every one of his perfectly timed thrusts. Whoever was trying to wake him up, he would give them a piece of his mind for waking him up from one of the best-wet dreams he's had today.

I see slowly opened his eyes a rush of pleasure begins to ripple through him, when his sleepy eyes met yours. You're cute little head bobbing up and down those gorgeous pretty little eyes looking up at him.

Now he's fully awake. The annoyance from being woken up disappeared completely.

Belphegor smiled slowly putting his hand on your head tangling in your hair Not to move you, Just to touch you.

"Is that how you're waking me up now? I hope so. You're giving me even more reason to look forward to my naps if this is how you wake me up." He smiles He can't help but fuck his hips up as you try to suck him deeper his cock going in your throat.

"mmphfuuuck.... Eager little thing aren'tcha ya? So hungry for cock ya couldn't wait till I finished my nap?" Sinking his teeth into his bottom lap, He watches you hungrily take him all the way down with each bob.

[reds-skull]

Fanfic Recommendation: Multi-Chapter (completed)

Been a while since I've made one of these! Decided it's time to get into the biggest category I have...

These don't have any shared theme beside having multiple chapters and being completed, and they're both NSFW and SFW.

As always, make sure to look at the CWs and tags before reading, and if a link doesn't work, you're welcome to reach out!

[Some of these might be by authors I already recommended, you can find that list here]

Shotgun Sunsets, Desert Stars by noxmajor - Soap keeps disappearing. Ghost gets curious.

Chasing Ghosts and Dreams by TheEdwardianOne - Soap and Ghost finally do something about their feelings in a safehouse after a mission.

Give Me Hope & Let Me Down by MechanicalBones - Soap saves his idiot Lieutenant & there's a shit tonne of hurt-comfort & smooches.

Love Is Not An Act, It's A Habit by wodnica - Ghost and Soap got separated from their team, lost and alone. Ghost must reconsider how close his relationship with Soap really is.

The Devil You Know by Artaccountant1 - In order for life in the 141 to go on, Ghost had to die. He knew Soap wouldn't take it well, but he never expected him to end up like this. That mask was only supposed to be for special occasions.

It's cracked and it's scarred (but I would give you my heart) by FetteEule - After a mission gone wrong Ghost and Soap find themselves cut off from their team and have to work together to figure out what happened, all while navigating their growing feelings for each other.

when does a man become a monster by wellyesbutactuallyno - One of Makarov's men takes Ghost. Soap gets him back.

Pieces of You by FreeToWriteForMe - Soap slowly collects pieces of Ghost through his clothes or his weapons. Eventually, Simon gets something of Johnny's.

a Moth to a Flame by theidjits - Firefighter John MacTavish was eager to start his career. What he didn't expect when he was assigned to Station 141 was to fall for the elusive Lieutenant. (firefighters 141)

Trace Them Gently by Grangers_apprentice - There are a lot of reasons Ghost wears so many layers. Layers keep you warm. They keep you safe. They keep prying eyes and wandering hands away. Ghost has more reasons than most to want to keep his skin under wraps. [Restricted]

A Steady Beat in an Unsteady Time by Grangers_apprentice - Soap has been having dreams where Ghost dies, and comes up with an unconventional way of reassuring himself that his lieutenant is fine. (part 1 of the Heartbeat Series) [Restricted]

Blossoms by felicitous - Against his better judgement, John "Soap" MacTavish was in love with Simon "Ghost" Riley. And while he knew that Ghost could never, would never, love him back, he was happy to take whatever attention the man would give him, even if it killed him. (Hanahaki AU)

Remember Me (Please) by Darkflamej - Johnny winds up with amnesia and Ghost is struggling to keep them both alive while trying to balance the fact that he’s hopelessly in love with a man who doesn’t even remember him.

The Truth Comes Out by Darkflamej - Ghost is under the influence of a truth serum and is trying his best to not confess his love for Soap.

Mission: You by TheD - Soap keeps getting distracted recently by Ghost. They do something about it, leading to an entanglement that leads to complications in their relationship.

the human condition by bilbhoebangins - Ghost shows up to an anonymous hookup and finds a naked and blindfolded Johnny waiting for him. His sergeant is completely unaware of just who he's arranged to meet, and Ghost has to make a choice, between what's right, and what he so desperately wants.

Awake At Night by CYBERGUTS - A friends to lovers fic over 4 seasons.

Prank Call by Team_141_property - A prank call goes wrong, personal walls are ripped down, people get hurt, and feelings get confessed. [read the CW on this one especially]

Yes to Heaven by Apollos_Last_Prophet - Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish is declared K.I.A during a failed recon mission in 2017. His commanding officer, Captain John Price, takes the loss personally, but has no other choice then to move on. Five years later, Price fights an assassin with a familiar face. [the one and only]

Someday The Dust Will Settle by shadow_in_the_window - Panic was starting to flood Ghost's senses. Johnny had lost a lot of blood. He cleared his mind. There was no way he'd let Johnny die on his watch. Not now. Not ever.

A Sunrise In the Dark by [orphan_account] - “Don’t say that, Johnny.” Ghost spoke, his voice quiet. “Say what?” “That you’d take a bullet.” “I would, though.”

On Begged and Borrowed Time by goforblood - Soap MacTavish is the newest member of Task Force 141. Soap could not have foreseen the enigmatic lieutenant, Ghost, who threatens to turn everything on its head. Can he keep his burgeoning crush on the masked man a secret? Or will someone call his bluff?

Midnight Snacks by MireyaRowan - Ghost is forced to share a room with Soap for a few nights, greatly increasing his anxiety about his night terrors. He hasn't let anyone in the task force know how hard being idle is for him. Soaps makes a whole deal out of it to try and keep Ghost distracted from his past.

I Woke Up Underground by WispScribbles - Soap, Ghost, Price and Gaz are on a mission to take out Hassan's allies. It goes south when explosives cause the cave system to collapse, injuring and trapping the team.

A Little Death by CaptainMJ - Ghost dragged himself out of Vernon's grave to see that Roba hadn't left. Had waited to see if he'd manage to do it. Ghost never escaped and eventually they were successful in breaking him down and making him someone else. Kinda. Kinda successful.

Spoils of War by CaptainMJ - Ghost defeats Soap's kingdom and after splitting up the spoils, he takes Soap too. Soap expects the worst, but Ghost doesn't seem keen on doing anything to him. How long is that going to last?

Target Locked by MildLimerence - Soulmate AU: In a world where having a soulmark is a rare and forgotten phenomenon, finding your other half can be more a curse than a blessing. Soap joined the military intent on escaping the stigma of the mark, adamant he'd never find his soulmate.

Fucking new guy by glaciers (Hayfever_Street) - Soap joins Task Force 141, ready to prove himself as the best of the best. On his first day, he finds himself choked in the training room by a prick in a skull mask. Now Soap must deal with his growing attraction to his lieutenant, a sarcastic and cold-hearted man named Ghost, while at the same time proving to the 141 he's worthy of being there.

ripe and ruin by ghcst - It's August 1917, the rain doesn't seem like it will ever cease, and Soap starts to wonder if this war will ever end. He also has trouble trying to decide whether or not Lieutenant Simon Riley is really human. [WW1 AU, I recommend it even if you don't like the time period!]

Got your back, you got mine by WhiteBeakedRaven - five times Ghost did Soap a favor and the one time Soap had paid him back.

He Stuck Around For The Moon by escence - He’d been avoiding Ghost, planning on continuing to do so until he could sort out his thoughts and feelings regarding the man, preferably, shifting them into something less intimate. Evidently, he’d run out of time and Ghost had found a way to pin him down, literally and metaphorically.

The fever dream by glaciers (Hayfever_Street) - Ghost and Soap are back from a mission when Soap is struck down with a fever. Ghost navigates keeping his sergeant alive while coping with Soap unabashedly hitting on him, riling him up to bursting point.

Worth the Wait by trueheirofslytherin - Soap needs a sign that Ghost is interested in him. Ghost needs a sign that Soap is interested in him. One of them needs to take the initiative.

kiss the skin that crawls from you by congee4lunch - soap gets kidnapped. ghost tears through flesh and blood to get him back. amidst the carnage of a sinner's hands and in the absence of his god, he remembers what it means to love.

solemn prayer, poppy in my hair by congee4lunch - when soap invites ghost back home to scotland for a week, ghost hadn't imagined he would wind up in a fake dating scheme to trick soap's family, of all people. it also doesn't help that he's head over heels in love with soap, of all people.

Need You Now by SammyLuka - Alternatively, time in between missions makes Ghost realize that he doesn't know what to do without Soap. Thankfully, Soap understands.

Deep In The Fog by Crispyywheat - Soap is a big ol’ cryptid!! The 141 hunts down monsters/cryptids but Soap being a little idiot but also smart(?) decides to hide amongst the 141 as human. [I believe this one is currently being rewritten, the new work is called "Oh Weary Souls"]

I Didn't Need It, It Needed Me by starryathame - Ghost was wearing his balaclava, but he could feel his true mask slipping. He was becoming more Simon with every day Soap was around, and that knowledge terrified him. He hadn’t seen Simon Riley in the mirror in over a decade; he didn’t even know if he’d recognize himself anymore.

Affirmative, Sir by Wixiany - A mission goes wrong and both Soap and Ghost are left wounded. Back home, on his sick-leave, Soap's apartment gets broken into by the very men they were supposed to capture that day.

Wrap Your Arms Around My Cortex, Dig You In, and Let You Drain by [orphan_account] - Ghost returns to home base for the first time in four months and is unequipped to handle the growing emotions he feels toward a certain sergeant.

Say Yes To Me by [orphan_account] - Ghost gets held hostage and Soap saves him + the aftermath.

Pattern Breaker by mothbeast - A canon-compliant rework and extension of MW2: Reboot.

your finger on my hairpin trigger by lostReality - after Soap makes a few comments, about the mask, about sex, Ghost can't think of much else. And when Soap offers to fuck him after calling him pretty, why would he refuse?

earl grey skies by hyacinthwine - Johnny tries not to stare, but it’s difficult to tear his eyes away from the man. Really, there’s nothing that striking, he’s just an average Manchester man starting his day, yet Johnny wants to ogle just a little more. [coffeeshop AU]

Blinking by witchofsparkles - When Soap started seeing a very specific face with a skull mask and a pair of honey-brown eyes on his mirror and some glass, he thought he lost it good. Then it talked to him. [alternate dimension AU]

drag the lake and bring me home again by amongthebooks - During a stakeout mission in a remote area, Ghost is taken by the enemy. He's bound and thrown into a lake, and Soap has to scramble to get to him in time.

leave and liquor by your_wild_simp - Ghost is forced on a mental leave after a harsh mission. He crumbles, loses himself, has panic attacks and nightmares every time he remembers. But Soap is there, always there for him. Either through the phone, or physically rooming with him, Soap is there to help.

Between the Sand and the Stardust by tey_a - The one where soulmates leave marks on each other at their first skin on skin contact but feel drawn to each other before. Soap joins the 141 hoping to find a home in the form of a team. He finds it in the form of a man instead.

Six Feet Under And Quiet by snapple714 - Everyone in Soap's life has told him he's just too much. Not in the 141 though. But that can't last forever. He's bound to mess it up soon. It seems to happen on a particular mission, when Johnny gets trapped in a grave with a corpse. When the team realizes where they've made him wait for so long, they feel nothing but regret. Particularly Ghost, who is all too familiar with spending time underground…

Stubborn born by DepressoEspresso1000 - Soaps a fucking idiot and almost kills himself just to avoid medical leave, and Ghost is just as much of an idiot but he loves Soap and is not gonna watch him not care for himself.

If You Don't Stop, I'll End up Believing You by Hochseeperle - The new guy in the 141, Soap, doesn't have a filter when it comes to flirting. Ghost has no idea how to cope with that. He can't afford to lose face in front of his peers, so he decides to just… play along.

With Colours Over All The Wasted Years by kilikinnie - everyone owns a necklace that displays your soulmate's emotions through colours and their proximity through temperature. Ghost never expected to meet his, and Soap thought his was long gone.

(every scar will build my) Throne by Sillililli - Soap, the new leader of the MacTavish family mafia, is owed a debt by a family rivel. To repay him, Soap is given Ghost.

Keep The Change by hertzdonut - Soap's been shipped out to a safehouse in the Canadian Wilderness alone, except then Ghost shows up, but maybe Soap wasn't supposed to be shipped out in the first place? And Soap's been running on zero sleep and pure angst since they left Chicago. 'Tis the season.

real people by ghost_throat - ghost is struggling with his recent discharge from military service and doesn't hold much hope for his future. his former captain secured him a job at a coffee shop with a stupid name and annoying colleages and customers. [Restricted]

The ghost lingering in your shadow by arkinh - It took only a few weeks before objects seemed to move around without Soap remembering moving them. Lights were switched on or off by themselves, or flickering as he passed by them. For the first time in his life, he doubted his beliefs. Perhaps he should have left room for the possibility that it was all real?

What's The Name? by AvaLoren - John MacTavish is late to the coffee shop he works at after a late night argument with his girlfriend the previous night. He can't shake the memory playing on a loop in his head until a voice snaps him out of it. The customer before him has him fumbling for words and smiling like crazy. [another coffeeshop AU]

The Wind Will Howl Your Name by Minimelo - After a hunt goes wrong, John finds himself in the care of Ghost. [medieval AU, so so so good]

Cave In by glaciers (Hayfever_Street) - Ghost and Soap are forced to abandon a mission after the rain washes them out. They take shelter in a cave while they wait for the storm to pass, except this storm is sitting over them and won't budge. As night falls, the cave cracks, and they find themselves trapped. It wouldn't be a problem, except Soap is panicking, and Ghost is struggling to calm him down.

Burbon Soaked Letters by FreeToWriteForMe - Soap began finding letters full of threats and extremely personal information about his family and loved ones. He desperately hides it from his team while trying to find out the identity of his stalker. [the MCD tag on this one doesn't apply to the 141]

Safety Hazard by Red_Clegane - Soap is the adoptive son of President Price, but he’s hard to contain and a security risk. He’s never had a secret service agent last more than a few weeks. So, when Special Agent Ghost and his team are brought in to babysit, he thinks it’ll be another few weeks of fun. But a traitor is lurking in the Whitehouse and while Ghost protects Soap from himself, Simon will need to protect Johnny from something far more insidious.

[causenessus]

Nightmares. | Bungou Stray Dogs

inc: dazai, chuuya, tecchou

written in 2nd pov (female reader implied at least for chuuya)

song recc: roslyn by bon iver

word count: 1064 words

summary: "how do they take care of you when you have a nightmare?"

sorry if they all seem the same D: i tried to make them all unique and i can see the difference between each character in how they would treat u but i know it's small i'm sorry they're all just such green flags and would be the sweetest <3

dazai

has had so many nightmares himself he knows just how to take care of you

having someone with him at night helped reduce the stress and the number of ones he has <3

you’ll wake up from a nightmare, crying out as you shoot up and he’s there for you from the very start, sitting up as well and shushing you, pulling you to his chest

“it’s okay, it’s okay,” he kept repeating as he drew your head near to his chest. “deep breaths, bella,” he encouraged softly, holding your face so that you were looking directly into his eyes while he gave you a gentle smile. he ran his hands through your hair, smoothing it out until your breathing calmed down

is super patient with you throughout the whole process, will not act sleepy in the slightest so that you don’t feel bad for waking him up or anything else

“ ‘m sorry I woke you,” your voice shook as you tried to take a deep breath, wiping the tears away from your eyes.

he took your hands off your face, using his own to brush away your tears with all the care in the world. “don’t be sorry, I was half awake anyway. take your time, love.”

he’ll offer to listen if you want to talk about it, but he understands if you’re not ready yet

tries to coax you back to sleep soon after because he wants you to rest

but he knows from experience how hard it can be when your mind is racing

the reason it’s helped him so much to sleep with someone though is bc it can take your mind off the dream <3

he’ll position you against his chest and between his legs while he rests against the headboard of the bed. he’ll intertwine his arms with yours, rubbing circles on your wrists while he hums softly to distract you

if you’re feeling sensitive to noise, he’ll place his hands over your ears instead, using his thumbs to rub the sides of your head

he’s there for whatever you need him to do. during your first nightmare with him, he’ll still be figuring out how you react to them. after that, he'll remember exactly what you need and want from him. he wants to make sure you feel safe and comfortable no matter what <3

chuuya

wakes up first while you’re still tossing and turning in your dream

he’ll sit up and lean over, waking you as gently as he can. he’ll cup your face as you wake up, brushing anyway any tears with warm hands

“hey, hey, it’s okay. you’re okay. it’s just a bad dream. I’m right here. you’re safe,” he whispered softly as you woke up shaking, your breathing erratic

he kisses away the rest of your tears, touching you so gently and with so much love

asks if you want to talk about it and if you need anything else which he’ll be happy to get for you

afterward, he’ll pull you close to his chest, one hand on your head and the other around your waist, making you feel secure and protected

I think he’d be the type who would keep talking the whole time, distracting you from your thoughts. he’ll talk you through everything he’s doing, he’ll continue to comfort you, and will talk about any other random thing once you both have laid back down

probably tries to make some jokes a little bit before you head back to sleep as well to make you feel better

“sometimes, that stupid dazai shows up in my dreams and I just know it’s not a coincidence. there’s no way that scheming blockhead doesn’t have some mysterious way of communicating and entering people’s dreams. and he does it just to piss me off. ugh, just thinking about it makes me upset,” he ran a hand through his hair, smiling when you let out a small laugh, wiping away the last of your tears with the back of your hand.

he took your hand in his own and kissed it softly, “there’s my pretty girl. see? you’re safe, nothing bad is gonna happen.”

tecchou

does not wake up

you wake up from your nightmare, eyes bleary and heart racing. the only thing you want is to be in his arms so you wake him

once he sees your tears though he’s up immediately, hands on your face as he wipes them away, “oh angel, what’s wrong?”

you place your hand over his own, “just a nightmare…I’m sorry I didn’t know what else to do.”

“nothing to be sorry about,” he says softly, a smile on his face as if you had said something funny, “that’s what I’m here for. I’m glad you woke me up.”

he suggests making a warm drink to calm you down if you’re up for it 

in his experiences, he’s found it best to get up and change his surroundings in order to get his mind off a bad dream

if you say yes, he’ll make you something to drink before sitting next to you in the kitchen. he’ll be with you the whole time, telling you that he’s willing to listen if you want to talk about it or anything else if you don’t want to think about it

will have a hand on your thigh or back, rubbing it slowly to comfort you

when you both head back to bed, he’ll hold you close to him, one hand intertwined with yours to let you know he’s there while the other runs through your hair <3

if you don’t want to get up from the bed, that’s okay too, he’ll ask you what you want him to do and makes sure your every need is taken care of <3

kisses your forehead as you both lay back down, then draws patterns across your skin with one hand. the other one flat against your lower back to keep you pressed against him

if you’re still a little scared, he’ll continue to comfort you and reassure you that it’s okay. he’ll wipe away any more tears and stay awake the whole time. he tries to make sure he hears your breathing slow and that you’ve fallen back asleep before he closes his own eyes again to make sure that you get the rest you deserve <3

[wakacreations]

Infernal Nightly Habits

I am taking a bit of rest from writing. Maybe some day I will revisit this as a short little one-shots.

Zevlor:

Lullabies: It is a habit he find himself doing whenever he prepares for bed. Either humming a soft tune if he has more energy whistle it but when your head hits the pillow he will sing the words of old ballads as you already drifted off to sleep. Why does he do it? There were many children who couldn't sleep under his care. That was what he would say whenever he was caught. When he was in Elturel to Avernus and on the road to Baldur's Gate all opportunity to have possible deniability. Truthfully it's to keep the last of his fond memories alive when he was once in your stead dreaming peacefully, to comfortably fall asleep to the sound of a voice you loved so dear. Light sleeper: Years of being a Hellrider left its mark on him and even before then he couldn't help wake up to the slightest sound. Was there something there or was it his imagination? Was that the usual noises of the night? It is better to get up and check for himself to never leave his guard down for any moment not again. Insomniac: His body would collapse before his mind would allow him to rest. Wide awake he would be watching the sky transition from the deep midnight to the swirling pinks of first light and finally to the raising yellows of dawn. What keeps the Hellrider up in the night? It changes each night of which transgression he committed comes to ravage his mind but seeing you sleeping soundly puts his stuttering heart at ease. If he to be forever plagued to never find rest he will find it vicariously through you and that is enough for him.

Rolan:

Storytime: He reads before bed that's not unusual for the wizard. Sometimes he reads the words aloud without realizing it. If you were to comment on his reading he would apologize for disturbing you. He will make a conscious effort to be quiet though you still will catch snippets of his mumbled words. If sleep does not come easy to you he would read whatever book that he is currently engaged with. When he feels comfortable one night he would sheepishly propose another story not one he currently has on hand but ones he recalls from memory. Moments long before Avernus where he would be off on some misadventures with his siblings through the streets of Elturel. Maybe one of being chased and scolded by Hellrider Tilses while on her patrol, another of accidental fires started by the trio in his mother's bakery and who knows what other stories he left tucked away in the recesses of his mind. When he's feeling sentimental recall old childish tales he would read with Cal, Lia and his mother long ago or playing the game of creating a make believe tale till sleep waters the eyes. By the end of the story you found yourself still awake looking at the wizard who is fast asleep instead. Heavy sleeper: He will sleep through the chaos around him. Shake the wizard or make as much noises as you want to no avail he is off in dreamland. How else would you achieve rest living with Cal and Lia for so long? Just don't say his name while he's asleep he will begrudgingly be awake even at the slightest whisper. Ingrained into him that calling his name means morning, you will have to pull the wizard back to bed before he decides to get a early start to the day. Somewhere in his half thoughts he will come up with a reason to argue that yes, he needs to be awake at this hour though it is still night. He will fall back to sleep when settled back in again and maybe one more story before bed. Sleep talker: He does know he does it on a very rare occasion but he does not recall whatever he supposedly uttered. You find that he sleep talks the most when he is under stress or if there is a nagging thought he tries to suppress in waking life. Usually he just babbling random nonsense from whatever dream he is having. Sometimes you can converse with him if you asked what is happening in a dream and he will answer.

Raphael:

Penning: There is always work to be done that needs to be inked down onto parchment whether it be for a contract, a plan yet to come to fruition or a spark of his own genius that needs to be scrawled for his own personal works. The act is therapeutic as much as you and Haarlep give him looks at the littered crumbled drafts thrown about between grumbles of another attempt that doesn't meet his own satisfaction. Night terrors: He does not require much rest yet even so there is enough time for him to dream. Whatever these potential premonitions are he will decipher its meaning. Though there is another who appears there beside him in the chaos a voice that is always squeaking and squealing for his attention during the finale as he meets his end. Unconscious cuddler: The devil you know is at your beck and call always drawn to a desperate soul. If sleep doesn't find you it will through suffocation from being smothered from the weight of his body pressing you into the silken sheets or being squeezed to the brink of death. If you are unlucky his claws dig into you as he pulls you around in his sleep whichever way he desires. He only sleeps with himself was but a warning from Haarlep to you. Most others do not live through what would be a night.

Haarlep:

Impies: They enjoy the company of their imp pets before bed. Throwing them across the boudoir and hearing them squeal in delight sometimes terror when they land onto hard surfaces. Haarlep would gossip with their pets telling lie after lie about the happenings in the House of Hope. It doesn't matter what they choose to tell these creatures even if there were truths scattered in their own words. Come morning these impies will be replaced with another. The least Haarlep could do is wish them a good night from this plane and dote on them until a new plaything comes to spend the night or just the usual one. Restless sleeper: They are never comfortable and when they do finally lay still somehow they always position themselves for the optimum of your discomfort. Spreading themselves to take up as much room as they please, sleeping at odd angles so with the slightest of a nudge push you off the bed and whatever else possess them to flail their limbs around at just a simple touch. When you somehow fall asleep in a contorted position you wake up no different than when you awake up after a day of battle. Still so tired, sore, bruised and hesitant to stretch in case of a cramp. There are still worst bedfellows but this is still not the worst you have encountered. Snores: It is almost comedic the way they snore. Sometimes soft whistling, at some point would be like those of snarling animals even loud enough to where you question are your own eyes shaking and then the usually choking coughs of breathed in spittle. When you mention their snores as a off handed jest, they would simply deflect with a simple phrases of can't help yourself sweet pet and I don't blame you for staring. You already miss my attentions already far be it from me to leave a greedy little thief waiting.

[maopll]

Hi!

Could I request Dan Heng, Blade, and Caelus with a very sleepy s/o?

Sweet Dreams —

# honkai star rail !

⌗:, a/n : sleeping beauty trope. how lovely. but caelus would be really sweet towards you I'm pretty sure !!

⌗:, warning : none. only wholesome moments w/ your lover <3

⌗:, pairings : dan heng, blade, & caelus w/ gn!reader (separately)

DAN HENG —

Clothes? check. Guide books? check. First Aid? check. He took note of every single item that was in the bag he frequently took during trailblazing expeditions which had every single important thing. However, he does not remember putting you in the checklist nor finding you half-asleep on the bag. Somehow, you managed to snuggle yourself inside the bag while having your legs and hands close to yourself. Sure it didn't look comfortable but the question was 'how did they sleep like that?'

Heaving an exasperated sigh he said "wake up [name] the preparations for the expedition aren't done yet" and rubbed on his temples. You woke up with droopy eyes and yawned. "The smell of the old books truly helps you sleep well," and once again flopped yourself on the bed. He finished packing and went to join you on the bed. He rolled you over to the other side and made space for himself. He hugged you close to him as you entangled your legs with his. You snored softly as he kissed you on the forehead. "Good night dearest."

BLADE —

He was looking at the Xianzhou from atop a building. Or was it a cliff? you cared less since the sleep was already starting to get to you, and you really needed a nap. Balde turned back to report to you that the work is over, only to find your legs crossed and leaning on your weapon for support as you slept on it. He has seen this many a times before.

"[name], dear, please get up there's a lot of things that we need to do. Your sleep can wait." However, his words were futile since you only just replied with a "hmm". He wad having none of it. Like his usual routine, he princess carried you on his arms and trodded his way towards the designated location. You cracked a soft smile on your lips. You had to admit that this was primarily the reason you would fall asleep at odd places and at odd times. He knew of this but indulged you often to let you feel his strong bulky arms under your shoulder and let you snuggle yourself to his chest. "You're a sly one aren't you?"

CAELUS —

What time is it? Perhaps 6 in the morning. It's hard to tell the time because of how dark the underworld in Belobog is. His hair was deshelved, and clothes were wrinkled. He came from the showering after freshening up. Even after 2 hours, you were still asleep. He slowly creeped into bed and tackled you. You were jolted awake by him smothering kisses all over your face and neck.

"Oh aeons! Babe that's!" but to no avail could you get enough word out. He held you close to him not letting you escape, "isn't it about time you get up from the bed hm ?" His words and actions didn't match. He had you trapped between his strong pair of arms all while snuggling beside your neck. You huffed and said "fine fine! just give me 5 more minutes. Y'know I keep my word..." by this time yours words were quite slurred, a clear sign of the imminent arrival of sleep. He sighed, "what am I supposed to do with a sleeping beauty as my partner?" and looked at you fondly for a while.

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Discoveries

Fandom: Once Upon a Witchlight (Legends of Avantris)

Pairing: Gricko Grimgrin/Morning Frost; Grimmorning

(Some of our today's inspiration: @royhasissues; @crowliphale (vaguely))

Please don't read if you don't feel interested, I'm just letting anyone who reads this know where I get my ideas

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Summary: A series of stories of Gricko discovering things about Frost and how those said things affect him!

~~~~

Gricko is a druid, of course. It's obvious through his actions of making flowers bloom and trees grow, or by the way he carves little statuettes of nature's powerful spirits.

Not only that, he's sort of an expert in monsters and beasties alike. Maybe that's why he's able to take care of Hootsie so well.

While having a sufficient knowledge of many different animals, he never had questioned himself much about Frost or Kremy.

He never questioned Kremy for reasons that he had stated himself many times before. The gator is secretive about his personal life, past as well as humor, fashion sense and physical anatomy.

For Frost, however, the goblin never actually thought of asking. He had been his best friend for a long time, even before they met Kremy and Gideon. A druid and a sorcerer, walking along side together with an owl bear squeezed between them. They looked like a nice pair, and for a fact, they were.

It was around midnight, if he recalled correctly. The night was as peaceful as it could get, sleeping in the woods and all. Branches danced in the wind, dead leaves falling from its fingers as it moved.

Everyone had their own tent for that night, but because they were very near the next town, Kremy had the idea of splitting everyone into little groups. Him and Gideon, Gricko and Frost, and Torbek gets to sleep alone if he really wants to.

When it was too hot to bear being inside his bedroll, Gricko had decided to just sleep on top of it with Hootsie draped over him.

Suddenly, a flickering light of one of the lamps started to illuminate the tent he shared with Frost. Gricko had just woken up from a rather weird dream when he heard Frost mumbling some kind of chant, like a prayer.

Not feeling awake enough to make his presence known to the tabaxi, Gricko just lie there, drifting between consciousness and sleep in a comfortable manner. The chanting continue, never seem to cease while he's still awake.

Is Frost making some kind of prayer to whoever he worships? But from what he could recall correctly, Frost never had anyone to worship in the first place. Even on the path of righteousness, like he always claim to be, Frost could be a little chaotic and take Kremy's side for fun.

Feeling like he had enough strength to just take a peek at what Frost is doing, Gricko got on his elbows and peered over to Frost over Hootsie's mount of feathers.

There sat the tabaxi in all his glory. Usually he would be covered in his robes, but today seems to have a surprise in store for the goblin who was unfortunately awake at that time.

Instead of being face to face with smooth green fabric or the thin material of an undershirt, he was faced with orange fur covered in black stripes, some trailing up to his neck and around his torso. The underside of his arms is covered in white fur instead of orange like the rest of his body, the black stripes still coming around and hugging his arms.

For a tiger and sort of humanoid, Gricko could definitely say that Frost looked defined, like how Gideon would look but slimmer.

Had Frost been that hot to just strip down to his bare dignity? He only ever had seen Frost this bare when Chuckles came back and took his clothes away. He rather keep those images that had burned into his mind far away from his fantasies and dreams.

Gricko could feel blood rushing to his face and a little down further than his abdomen, but he refuse to acknowledge the feeling. He shouldn't have thoughts like this about his best friend, and watching your friend without his knowledge was and still is complete indecency, not to mention very creepy.

Now deciding that he had a good enough view and had stared a while too long, Gricko faked a groan as if he just woke up and faked struggle to get out from under his owl bear daughter.

Frost's ears perked up, immediately noticing the noise and scrambling to pull his tank top over for some decency, turning over to the struggling goblin with masked calmness.

"Oh, Gricko, I didn't realize you were awake already." Frost said calmly, though Gricko's mind says otherwise.

"Yeah, heard somethin and that kinda rouse me awake." Gricko lied, eyes trailing down the rather toned tabaxi, eyes lingering just a bit on his chest after turning over to face the wall of the tent.

Frost hummed and sighed mentally. Gricko, on the other hand, wish that he could've gotten a better view if Frost just happens to grab at the wrong shirt and didn't have time to pull it on.

The silence between them was thick and awkward, unspoken questions hung in the air, curiosity drowning Gricko and affecting his sleep. Frost didn't know what to say either, eyes focused on the flickering flame of the lamp for a while to long that dark spots started to form in the corner of his eyes.

"I knew you were awake," Frost spoke up eventually, eyes glancing behind him to see the goblin getting out from under Hootsie. There was a look of guilt and shame on his face, his cheeks dust in a light pink out of embarrassment.

"I didn't mean to, alright? I was just curious." His voice was hushed, eyes averting away from Frost's stare, hands tangling in his daughter's feathers.

In all his years, and now at this age, Gricko didn't get why he's acting like a little kid getting caught staying up late out in the garden. He felt like he was about to confess to his crush. It was a normal thing, at this point, for a grown man like him to want like how Gideon would usually be. He did it openly, too, like how Gideon often would. But in the presence of Frost, he could bear to tone it down a notch, made sure his friend was comfortable.

Frost, after all, was the youngest of the krew if Hootsie was out of the question. For a young tabaxi, he isn't like the rest. The others would be pretty open and nice, they've encountered a few already and they were very open to conversation. Not like Frost.

"If you are curious, please do ask next time." Frost offered, his voice soft and quiet, eyes searching. Gricko gave him a small nod and stared back down at his hands.

Maybe he should ask next time instead of being a creep.

~~~~

"Frost, stop stalling, we gotta go now! " Kremy shouted back at the tabaxi, a hand coming up to hold his hat down.

Frost grunted back in response, letting go of his barriers to dash and catch up with his friends. Gricko was standing right beside Gideon, eyes wild and full of worry, waiting for Kremy and Frost to catch up. No one is being left behind.

They should've never decided to do this. They should've never entertain the thought of doing it in the first place!

Gold and precious jewels shoved into bags and pockets clumsily, feet slipping against stairs and beautifully tiled floors as they desperately ran and tried to find an exit. Furious metal footsteps chased them down corridors and well furnished hallways, knocking over any type of display that might get in their way.

Gideon's hair burst into flames from adrenaline, licking up and around his horns. Any sweat that happened to form immediately evaporated into the air from his intense heat. Gricko had a burlap sack over his shoulder, carrying it in a manner similar to a flour sack, but instead of flour there were gold.

Kremy carried his own, but most of them were already carried by Gideon who oh so generously offered to carry it for his boss. In the pockets of his nice jacket were all types of rare and beautiful gemstones, add in a few more gold and all of this might seem worth it. Frost breaths were coming in short and labored, his eyes narrowed and just as intense as Kremy's, using his magic to at least crush some of the guard's minds while Kremy ran in front of them looking for a way out.

"Kremy, they're gaining on us!" Gideon shouted, huffing and trying to readjust the sacks in his arms without stopping or slowing down.

Kremy cursed quietly in front of them, then coming to a halt so abruptly that it caused everyone else behind him to either almost fall on their face or pile up on each other on the floor. Gricko was one of the many to actually fall face first, an audible wet cracking noise was heard between all of them.

"Kremy, what in the nine hells are you doing?!" Frost screamed furiously, his face betraying his sense of calmness and collective personality.

Gideon was shocked for a moment at Frost raising his voice to Kremy, kneeling down to host Gricko on his shoulder. The alligator didn't respond. He raise his cane to the wall in front of them, charging up his Eldritch Blast before the wall was blasted into millions of pieces in front of the krew.

"Now go! Don't just stand there and stare!" Kremy commanded, picking up his fair share of their stolen goods and making a run for it. Frost doesn't know how far they'll make before the guards catch up to them, but he didn't hesitate.

Picking up whatever that had fallen on the floor with mace hands, Frost dashes after the rest with his heart drumming in his ears.

An hour of running later, the group finally settled down at a clearing. The metal footsteps stopped following them, a furious voice shouting orders for them to fan out in the town instead of the forest that they ducked into.

Gideon groaned and dropped all the gold onto the forest floor, lowering Gricko down by a rock before collapsing himself. His soot smeared shirt was now covered in small patches of blood, there were tears here and there on it and on his pants.

Gricko's nose was slightly swollen and definitely broken, blood trickling down to his lips. Not much damage was done on him considering he was small enough to maneuver around easily. Kremy's suit was dirty and wrinkled, his hat partly burned in one corner due to Gideon's hair igniting so suddenly.

Frost was bent over, hands on his knees and breathing heavily. Heists usually wouldn't turn out this way, usually more quiet and less having to run for their lives. When it does happen, however, that's when they managed to escape with more goods than they could carry.

"Well, that's was a tough one fellas." Gricko said, his voice sounding weird due to his broken nose.

Pulling a bananya out his pack, Gricko started to chew away at it until all their attention was diverted to a noise coming from Frost. The tabaxi was still bent over, but his hands gripped harder at his pants and his whole posture seem to be shaking slightly.

Kremy worried that he might have pressured the calm natured sorcerer and that might have forced him into some state of shock. Gideon was just preparing himself mentally for any vile insults that Frost might throw at Kremy while Gricko didn't know what he should expect.

Eventually, Frost lift himself up from bending over with hands on his knees to reveal a bright smile built on adrenaline.

Gricko nearly dropped his bananya seeing Frost smile for one of the first times in his life. I mean, Gricko was sure that Frost smiled plenty before, just that he had never seen it or even catch a glimpse of it.

Everyone else seemed equally shocked at the sight. Soon, Frost started to chuckle quietly before bursting into a good natured laughter, his paws coming up to somewhat cover his ever growing smile.

"I- what or who are you laughing at?" Kremy questioned immediately, his clawed hand gripping the skull on his cane tighter as this might be a clone that was swapped out for the real Frost during the chase. Gideon, as protective as ever, took a step forward to put himself in front of his boss.

Gricko, with his nose now healed, slowly approaching Frost with caution that both Gideon and Kremy shared. Frost stopped laughing after a good few seconds, his laughter becoming something more similar to soft chuckles before stopping completely.

The goblin that stood beside him reached up and patted his arm twice, still very hesitant of what his next actions might be. The tabaxi looked over and smiled down softly at him, making the goblin feel something inside that he wasn't sure what to put it as. His eyes didn't seemed glazed over nor did any of his physical appearance had any fault.

"My deepest apologies, I didn't mean to burst out like that." Frost said, his calmness returning to him but the smile never seem to disappear.

Kremy sighed in relief and squeezed Gideon's arm for a bit more reassurance, earning a deep chuckle from the man beside him.

~~~~

"Yeah? You want this one girl?" Gricko said, looking down at his daughter and ruffling her feathers.

She nodded excitedly, looking at her father with puppy dog eyes just to convince him to buy it. Of course he'll buy it, Gricko would buy almost anything for Hootsie if she really wanted it. Either way, these were just a few bows and friendship bracelets so why not?

The other guys had split from him to go find their own stalls or vendors to buy from. Around the shop he was in, stores were filled with beautiful garments, some specialising in certain species while some are just for all species to buy.

Gricko was currently standing in what you could call an accessory shop. Small display case of necklaces and bracelets covered in expensive gemstones shining beautifully off the many lights that surround them.

Gricko by now has finished is shopping, mostly buying things for Hootsie while he look for things that would suit someone like him. Nothing of interest caught his eye, as he was most content in his own fashion style with not much to add to it.

"C'mon Hootsie, let's go pay for these and we can go find your uncles, yeah?" One would usually never asks a child's opinion on leaving shops or not even if the adult had decided so, but Gricko would because he wants his daughter to know she still has choices even if her father made most of them.

At the counter stood a very bored looking tabaxi. Gricko guesses that they might be a korat but he wasn't sure. There are lots of cats with grey fur anyways.

"Hello my good lady, I would like to pay for these!" Gricko greeted the tabaxi woman cheerfully, going on his tip toe in order to place the items on the counter.

She perked up and turned her attention back to her shirt customer, immediately calculating the item's prices. Though, something else caught her attention.

For a goblin, he smells awfully similar to a tabaxi. None of her kind walked in here for the past hour, and it was strange for a goblin to smell like one.

Her curiosity perked up, subtly scanning the goblin with her eyes while she pretended like she was still packaging his items. The owl bear next to the goblin seem to pick up her inspection, quickly giving her a suspicious look.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask," She started, giving Gricko an apologetic smile. The druid just nodded, prepare to hear her question regardless of how ridiculous it is. "Did anyone ever tell ya that ya smell like a tabaxi?"

Gricko was confused at the question, tilting his head slightly to one side, both out of confusion and to look at Hootsie.

"Uh, I don't think so, ma'am." Gricko answered, giving her a skeptical look while reaching out to grab the items he purchased.

The goblin knew that some animals mark their territory with a scent that he's sure him and Gideon can't smell. They also do that to mark mates, just so others would know to not give any advances. And the only tabaxi they ever knew was Frost.

Gricko wasn't sure about what she meant by him smelling like one. For a certain fact, Frost doesn't hold hands or get close to a lot of the guys and that means him as well.

Gricko and the tabaxi woman stood and shared a moment of awkwardness, the silence stretching on more than necessary. The customers around them gave them curious glances, some whispering amongst themselves about the awkward pair at the front.

Gricko didn't know how to rescue himself from this situation. He was usually the conversation starter, but he didn't know how to completely end it.

Sometimes, it would just be Kremy and Frost pulling him and Gideon away from conversations to get back to the task at hand. But, right now, the guys were far away from him. Frost was probably doing regular shopping, Kremy and Gideon are most definitely robbing people on the other side of town, and Gricko was stuck here.

Luckily, Gricko didn't have time wait any longer for Frost bursted through the door. His face was expressionless, eyes focuses yet wandering. His eyes landed on the tabaxi lady behind the counter, and on habit, he lowered his head for a brief moment as to greet her. Hootsie let out a happy little hoot seeing her uncle and started to walk around in circles around his legs.

"Gricko, I'm sorry to disturb your conversation with this lady here but we need to go." Frost said, his face staying expressionless but his voice sounded breathless and hurried, as if someone was rushing him to get Gricko as soon as possible.

And, it was safe to assume that it had to be Kremy.

Gricko nodded, holding his stuff close to him and dashing after his mate, leaving the door of the shop swinging with repeated chimes of the bell above.

Before he went though, he saw the woman's mouth formed something similar to a quiet "oh", followed by a nod. Gricko hoped it was nothing bad.

After picking up Kremy and Gideon who were both laughing and carrying lots of jewelry and fancy clothing, they settled down in their temporary living place. Luckily, Kremy manageed to shake off most of the guards, though Frost suggested to move towns immediately after tonight.

"Hey, Kremy?" Gricko called to the gator, his voice wavering with a bit of nervousness. Or was it fear? He wasn't sure.

Said gator was cooking up a simply meal of what Frost was able to pick up at the market before he rammed into him bodily, pockets stuffed with gold and a stumbling fire genasi behind him. "You need something?" Kremy answered, sounding rather uninterested in what the goblin might ask.

"Do tabaxi scent mark like regular cats?"

The question was odd, and it didn't seem very appropriate to ask about it. I mean, scent marking is kind of private, right?

Kremy stopped storing the pot, gray eyes seeming a little distant as if he didn't heard Gricko's question correctly. The goblin patiently waits for an answer, hands reaching anything on his body to hold onto for self security.

"Yes, I'm sure they do." Kremy finally answered, voice maintaining its calmness.

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A/n: I FINALLY FINISHED THIS!! After what seems like forever, I hope you all enough this! (No, I didn't have ao3 account. Wish I did but I'm not sure what I'll do on there)

[wannab-urs]

Title: Crawling Back to You

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: After some particularly awful shit goes down, Javi distances himself from you. But he always comes crawling back. 

Tags: Angst, smut, more angst, reference to s2e3 events w Carillo, Javi sleeps with Gabriela (that’s the one from S2E3 y’all), sad!Javi, self hating!Javi, references to blood, wounds, rot, etc, all metaphorical, drinking/alcohol, as always: excessive cursing, me trying to speak spanish (translations provided), arguing, manhandling, dry humping, fingering, oral f receiving, face riding but while lying down, hair pulling, actual riding, Javi very briefly picks you up, that one position from s1e2, unprotected PiV, creampie, Javi crying, Javi yelling, reader yelling, did I mention angst? WC: 2130

A/N: I'm sorry? And thanks to the HBH for beta reading &lt;3

Series Masterlist | Javier Peña Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

Crawling back to you Ever thought of calling when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do

Javi has avoided you for two weeks now. He got himself involved in some truly fucked up shit with Carillo and couldn’t bear to face you after that. He couldn’t let you see him like that – completely ashamed of himself, broken. He went to Gabriela instead. He knew she wouldn’t ask too many questions, that she would let him take out his anger and helplessness and shame on her. 

When he got home that night he still almost called you, just to hear your voice. You calm something inside him, something dark and violent. But it feels like a sin to expose you to it in the first place. He’s terrified of letting you in. Sure, he’s afraid of getting hurt. Afraid of giving his heart to you and possibly watching you crush it in your hands. But what he’s really scared of is letting you get close enough to see the blood in his teeth, to smell the rot in his chest. Afraid his darkness will infect you, ruin the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on. He is a bad man and you are so so good. You deserve better than him.

And yet he can’t truly let you go. Just another reason he doesn’t deserve you. He’s selfish enough to keep going back to you, to keep knocking on your apartment door and burying his pain in your body, only to tuck tail and run the second you push him for more. Most selfish of all is how much he wants more with you. Wants to come home to you every day. To cook dinner with you, to share a bed with you, to share his life with you. He wants everything you want and more and he’s terrified and horrified at the prospect. 

You haven’t called him. Maybe you finally listened to him. Finally accepted he’s not what you want or need. Do you think about calling him? Maybe after a bottle of wine, listening to your maudlin records and relaxing on your couch. Do you drink yourself into a stupor before you can make that mistake like he does? 

He dreams about you, about your body wrapped tightly around his, your nails dragging down his back so sharply it snaps him awake. He finds his whiskey glass turned over and spilled on his couch. His back aches from falling asleep sitting up. He eyes the phone. 

Fuck calling. 

Javi stares at the brass numbers on your apartment door. What the fuck is he doing here? He just can’t leave well enough alone. He pounds on the door until you answer. 

“No.” You slam the door closed. 

He bangs on the door again, fist pausing mid-air as the door swings open. 

“You can’t just come crawling back to me when you get tired of your whores, Javi.” You look beautiful. Standing in your doorway in one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. Righteous anger puts a fire in your eyes, gives a hard set to your jaw.  

“No es así y tú lo sabes.” (It’s not like that and you know it).” Javi steps closer to you, you don’t step back. “Me haces falta. (I miss you). Let me in.” 

“Oh you fucking miss me? It’s been two weeks. Y no llamaste. (and you didn’t call).” You didn’t call him either, but that’s not the point. You didn’t show up at his apartment.

“Sé, lo siento. (I know, I’m sorry).”

“No. No lo eres. Déjame en paz.” (No. You’re not. Leave me alone.).  

“No puedo. You know I can’t.” Javi looks defeated, run down. You know he needs you. Despite the advice of everyone you know and your own better judgment, you step aside and let him in. “Gracias, cariño.” And he sounds so relieved, you almost feel bad for keeping him out, for not calling him. Almost. 

He closes the door behind him and you stalk off to the kitchen, still not quite ready to face him. You pour yourself a glass of whiskey and shoot it, wincing a little at the burn, before grabbing another glass and pouring one for each of you. You set both on the coffee table and sit on the couch, folding your legs beneath you. 

“Why are you here, Javi?” He’d asked himself as much.

He picks his glass up off the table and sits on the couch next to you. You watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “I need you. I don’t know what else you want me to say.” 

“Start with why you disappeared.”

“Classified.”

“Bullshit.”

Javi sets his glass down and manhandles you into his lap. He crashes his mouth into yours and at first you don’t even respond to his touch, but it doesn’t take long to fall into him. You can’t deny that you’ve been miserable without him. Craving his touch, missing him so much it hurts. He’s like an itch you can never scratch enough to satisfy. A festering wound that won’t ever heal. So you may as well pick at the scab. 

Javi pulls your crotch flush with his. He’s already hard against you. You bury your hands in his too-long hair where it curls at the nape and lose yourself in him. You grind down on him and he thrusts up against you, the denim of his jeans and hard line of his cock creating delicious friction even through your panties. 

He breaks the kiss, dragging his lips up your jaw, and whispers in your ear, “Can you come for me like this?” You don’t answer him, simply grind down on him harder, faster, nearly rubbing your thighs raw on his jeans. He peels his t-shirt off your body, throws it behind the couch, and immediately sucks a nipple between his plush lips. He bites down and it sends a jolt straight through your core. 

“Fuck, Javi. More, baby. More,” you whine. He grabs your hips and drags you along his clothed length hard and fast. You feel your core tighten around nothing, and a keening moan falls from your lips as you come. 

You don’t even have time to catch your breath before he’s thrown you onto the couch. He drags your ruined underwear down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder, and buries his face between your thighs. He sucks your clit into his mouth and pushes two fingers inside you, pumping slowly and rolling your clit gently between his teeth. 

You arch up into him, and instead of pinning you down like he often does, he lets you grind your pussy on his face. The hard ridge of his nose, the rough drag of his mustache, the plush softness of his lips, so many different sensations hitting you as his fingers plunge into your cunt, curling into your g-spot over and over. It’s completely and utterly overwhelming. You fist his hair and hold him tight to you as you ride his face, and he moans into your cunt. He fucking loves it when you let go like this, unabashed moans filling the room, probably filling the whole apartment complex. 

You fall apart again, like this, hips stuttering to a stop as you squeeze his fingers so hard it almost hurts. Javi peers up at your blissed out face, the rapid rise and fall of your chest, takes in just how beautiful you are. He drags his tongue through your slick one more time before hovering over you and licking into your mouth. 

You suck your own slick off his tongue, licking into his mouth as you feel him shove his jeans down enough to free his cock. He pulls back, sits on the couch and drags you into his lap. You straddle him and he helps you line up before grabbing your hips and pulling you down on him. 

You collapse forward, the feeling of him inside you is like being split apart and it would probably hurt if you weren’t so wet. He grabs your hair and pulls backward until your back is arched. “Montarme, cariño.” (Ride me, baby). You start moving your hips, slowly picking up in speed until you’re bouncing on his cock so hard and fast you can barely catch your breath.

He hitches your thighs around his waist and wraps his arm around your back, dropping you on the couch. He shoves his jeans down, stepping out of them, and drops one knee to the couch. He pulls you into his lap, wrapping your legs around his hips. You cling to his shoulders with your left arm and drop your other one behind you for leverage, rolling your hips into his. He meets you with his own thrusts, holding your body to his and burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

He’s so close, you’re so tangled up in each other, he’s so fucking deep inside you, barely even pulling out before rolling back up into you. You fall back onto the couch and he follows, still holding you in his arms as he fucks you. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, rolling over your body and giving you chills as your cunt flutters around his cock. 

He comes with you, fully collapsing down onto you. You should feel crushed under his weight, but it’s comforting. He holds you so tightly it’s like he’s afraid to let go of you. Afraid that when this moment is over you’ll kick him out and he’ll be alone again. Afraid this is the last time he’ll ever get to touch you. 

You pet his hair gently, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. It’s late. You’re so fucked out you feel high and maybe the whiskey is loosening your tongue a little.  

“I don’t understand, Javi. If it feels like this, why won’t you love me? What more could you want from me? What am I missing that you need?” This is going to ruin everything.

Javi pushes up on his elbows to look you in the eye. “Cariño. It’s not you–” 

“I swear to God, Javi, if you use that line on me I will burn your apartment down with you in it.” 

“You don’t understand. You won’t understand. I’m not good. I’m only going to get you hurt or killed.” 

“You already are hurting me, Javi,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him back down to you. 

He’s silent for a long time before he half whispers into your shoulder, “I’m just so afraid.” His voice breaks and you feel a tear land on your skin. You stroke his hair, drag your fingers along his heated skin. 

“I know you, Javi. I know who you are and I don’t care. I think about you all the time. All the fucking time. I can’t stop thinking about you no matter how hard I fucking try. It’s torture.” 

Javi shoves himself away from you, standing and grabbing his jeans off the floor.“That’s my fucking point!” You flinch at his volume. He pulls his jeans on, grabs his boots and crams his feet into them, already heading to the door. He turns around. “I am only ever going to hurt you. I am a bad fucking person. I hurt people on purpose and you are not immune from that just because I care about you or because I love you.”  

You stand and try to take his face in your hands but he grabs your arms and holds you away from him. “I’d let you crack open my chest, rib by rib, while I watched if it meant I could have you. If it meant you’d be mine. Stop running away from me! I’m begging you!” You’re sobbing, yelling, pleading with him to just listen. 

Javi looks at you, brow furrowed, big brown eyes shiny and bloodshot with tears. He lets go of you and steps away slowly, putting distance between the two of you. His mouth opens as if he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. He drops his head and closes his eyes, takes a shaky breath, and walks out the door.

He knows he will come crawling back to you, tomorrow or a week from now, he can’t ever stay away. But maybe this time the wound will be too raw. He will have hurt you too much, and you will shut him out. He fucking hates it, hates the thought of being without you, hates the way it feels like he’s clawing out his own organs hurting you like this. But this hurt is so much less than what he would do to you given enough time. This wound will scab over, form an angry scar, he will have left his mark on you. But you will heal. 

dividers by @saradika

[eatsbooksarchive]

If Eris meets someone and instantly realises that they are his mate, he knows nothing else of the person, how would he go about it?

i think he would try to take that shit to the grave — theirs or his. the one romantic relationship he is most readily exposed to throughout his life is fraught with abuse, despair, and unwillingness; the open romantic and sexual relationships his brothers participate in look a lot like subjugation; their secret ones, the ones that are genuine and sacred, are under constant threat of exposure; and we all know what happened to jesminda. not to mention being mated to him means becoming an external vulnerability, a heart beating outside of his chest, aching for a hand to reach out and crush it — and there are so many who would see him crippled in such a way. even beyond that, there’s the hostility a mate would experience amongst the autumn nobility. not while he was around, of course, but if they were ever left alone with all of the fae who wanted so desperately to ascend to power alongside the scion of autumn. so there’s obviously a lot of reasons he would keep it secret, all of them selfless, even if in the selfishness of the act.

but i do think, in the dark of the night, when the forest house is quiet and none are awake to scent the weakness on the air, he lets himself feel it — the second heartbeat, just outside of his chest. beating much slower than his own, as though in sleep. he imagines what they look like in repose, how they might nestle deeper into their pillow with a furrow between their brow as a dream stirs them towards waking, how he might like to lean forward and press his mouth to it until they settled, there, in the dark, where no one would know but him. and then — and then a servant creeps into his study to tend the hearth, which the ones loyal to him know not to do because he does not like to be disturbed and prefers to do so himself, which means this one is not loyal to him and is here to catch glimpse of what the heir is up to and report back to whoever sent them. (could be beron, could be a brother, could be a high-ranking noble who despises him, could be a high-ranking noble who hopes to slither into his bed. doesn’t matter much anymore.) the fantasy lives and dies in that moment, until the pressures of his life close around his chest once more and he must steal another reprieve from the heartbeat beyond, then it lives and dies there over again, again, again.

because the kindest thing eris vanserra can imagine doing for a mate is ensuring they never, ever know.

[samstree]

Ooh 17 for the sensory prompts please?

Thank you for the prompt! It's from the sensory prompt list. I really like these so I'm welcoming more! <3

17. Your bed after travelling

(Obikin, rated G, also posted on AO3)

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan calls out from their shared bed, too cozy to move. “Anakin, will you come to bed?”

The door to the living room is left open for the bright light to spill into the dark bedroom. Obi-Wan watches as Anakin continues to tinker with Artoo’s communication unit, his legs crossed on the floor and back leaned against the droid himself, who has powered down for the night.

Even droids know it’s time for some rest.

“In a bit,” Anakin answers absently, not lifting his eyes from the circuit board.

It’s way past midnight, and the temple has settled into a blissful quietness. Even the murmurs of Coruscant seem to have faded into the darkness. Finally, Obi-Wan gets to sleep in a familiar, soft bed after days of battle and traveling. The only problem—Anakin won’t sleep.

And he needs it. He was the one who piloted the ship back home when Obi-Wan fell asleep in the passenger seat, promising faintly that he’d take over later. When he opened his eyes next, they were already at the temple’s hangar bay and Anakin was waking him gently with a hand on his shoulder.

Obi-Wan stretches under the duvet, his hands touching the cool, soft sheets on the empty space next to him. He tries not to worry, but the dark circles under Anakin’s eyes make that mission impossible.

“Anakin?” he calls again, knowing he’s getting dangerously close to nagging, something that historically has never worked and will only result in a sulking Anakin. “You need to sleep.”

Smoke drifts from the soldering iron in Anakin’s mechanical hand when he pauses.

“No, I don’t. It’s fine.” He only meets Obi-Wan’s eyes for a moment, a tight smile at his lips, aiming at reassurance. It would work better if his eyes weren’t red-rimmed with exhaustion. “And I can go much longer without sleep. I’ve done it before.”

“That’s more the reason to not suffer again.” Obi-Wan sighs, knowing he’s properly nagging now. “Anakin…”

“And the nagging is unbecoming, Obi-Wan. You promised you’d stop.”

“I did not,” Obi-Wan insists. “I promised I’d try. When you don’t particularly need me to nag, but that is not the case at the moment.”

Anakin’s stubbornness always has a way of reflecting back at Obi-Wan, bringing out the same side of him. He lets out a long breath, tossing and turning for a moment under the cover. The bed is truly too empty without Anakin beside him. The worry will also keep him awake through the night, if this goes on for longer.

“Go to sleep. If you want to talk my ears off, it might as well be in your dream,” Anakin adds petulantly. “I said I’m fine.”

Sometimes, Obi-Wan wonders why he loves this impossible boy so much. So many of the grey hairs at his temple can trace back to either fighting with Anakin, or trying to take care of Anakin. Fighting to take care of him is another challenge that Obi-Wan has grown accustomed to since the beginning of the war. It scares him how little Anakin cares for his own wellbeing.

But Obi-Wan might still have a trick or two up his sleeve.

“What if I’m not?” he says, after a moment of plotting.

“Hmm?” Anakin blinks up at him, a frown slowly forming between his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Obi-Wan props himself up on the bed, touching his temple like he’s nursing a headache. “What if I don’t feel fine, Anakin? In fact, I believe I have been struggling to sleep.”

A pause, and those beautiful eyes widen with concern.

“Oh.” Something clatters to the ground, but Anakin doesn’t seem to care. He scrambles to put away the tools and the circuitry, and with a few long strides, he’s at Obi-Wan’s bedside. His voice is impossibly soft when he speaks next. “What’s wrong? You were already tired on our way back. Do you feel sick?”

Anakin is kneeling beside Obi-Wan, helping him to lie down on the pillow and pulling up the cover. He reaches out with his flesh hand to brush back the stray hair over Obi-Wan’s eyes to better observe him. There’s distress written all over on his face now.

Obi-Wan clears his throat, catching Anakin’s hand before his worried mind spirals out of control.

“I’m not sick, darling. I may just be overtired, and somehow that’s keeping me awake.” Obi-Wan keeps his voice small and sad, his chin tucked under the soft duvet. “Ridiculous notion, I know.”

Still looking skeptical, Anakin presses their foreheads together to check Obi-Wan’s temperature. He pulls away, looking slightly relieved.

“Not ridiculous,” Anakin says, shaking his head. “I know the feeling, when you’re so keyed up that your mind won’t quiet down. Gods, you must be exhausted. How can I help?”

A proud smile is forming at the corners of Obi-Wan’s lips, having landed Anakin exactly where he wants him. So he presses a small kiss in the palm around his cheek, hiding that smile. He still needs to keep the look on his face pitiful enough to incite sympathy.

Obi-Wan looks up from under his lashes with pleading eyes. “Will you come into bed? You know I sleep better when you’re holding me.”

“Of course,” Anakin says immediately, ready to climb into bed already.

“Wait.” Obi-Wan halts the motion, eyeing a fully dressed Anakin. “Could you also change into your pajamas? Having your obi and tabard in bed cannot be comfortable.” After a beat, he adds, “for me, that is.”

Anakin only nods with understanding before undressing and shedding all the outer layers of his robes on the floor. Obi-Wan would lecture him, except things have gone his way so quickly that he really should count his blessings for now. Anakin then finds an old sleeping shirt on the other side of the room and pulls it over his head. He also turns off the living room light and shuts the door.

The bedroom is only lit by a dim lamp, the warm light setting a cozy atmosphere.

Obi-Wan lifts the cover eagerly to let Anakin slip in. The bed sinks under the two of them and their bodies fit together perfectly. He hums with contentment to show appreciation for the solid weight next to him.

“Like this?” Anakin circles Obi-Wan’s waist with his arms, head burrowed into the crook of his neck.

“No, more like—” Obi-Wan lies back against the pillows, guiding Anakin to lay on his chest, supporting more of his weight. His hand ends up buried in the short curls at the nape of Anakin’s neck, so he plays with those curls, knowing repeated motions are a good way to make Anakin drowsy. “—like this. I prefer it when there is weight on me.”

“Yes, you’re an odd one.” Anakin huffs against Obi-Wan’s chest, and then he looks up. “I’m not too heavy?”

Obi-Wan would feel guilty about his manipulation while looking into those big, trusting eyes, if not for the fact that the body around him has already grown more relaxed since laying down.

“You’re perfect, dearest.” Their legs tangle together, Anakin’s feet cold against Obi-Wan’s shin. He tugs the duvet tighter around them to warm him up. “Perhaps just…”

“Yeah?”

Anakin still feels like a lingering sandstorm in the Force, just the slightest ripple of unrest.

Obi-Wan kisses the mess of dark curls, feeling cheeky. “Could you do the breathing exercise for me, the one that helps to calm the mind? I find myself too exhausted to concentrate.” He adds a yawn here, for good measure. “It’s easier when we do it together.”

“Of course,” says the man in Obi-Wan’s arms who famously detests all forms of meditation and breathing exercises. “Here, follow me—”

An inhale. One, two, three four.

“Good, dear heart.” Obi-Wan gives a gentle pat. “I feel much better.”

Pause. One, two, three. And then, an exhale.

“Don’t speak, master. Focus on me.”

And he is. The golden warmth that is Anakin ebbs and flows, before settling into a pool of serenity. All the ripples have smoothed out, all the waves trickling into a stream of calmness.

Obi-Wan counts the rhythmic rise and fall of Anakin’s chest, and feels the arms around him loosen, bit by bit. With a few more breaths, both of them are on the edge of sleep.

Anakin is trying to wake himself up to continue the breathing exercise, but all he manages is an incoherent noise.

“No, no. Sleep. It’s okay,” Obi-Wan whispers into Anakin’s curls, settling him with a hand on his back.

“Mm? Did you really…” Anakin slurs, the sleepiness getting the better of him. “Did you really need… me…”

“Hush, now. Just rest. For me.”

Obi-Wan waits for Anakin to completely drift off and begin snoring softly, the dead weight against his chest making him too prideful.

He wonders how many more times he can get away with it, how much he can push for while holding Anakin’s trust and love within the palm of his hand. He fears, at times, for Anakin’s tendency to serve and to protect, his too-trusting eyes and too-big heart.

For now, the night is quiet, and Anakin is dead to the world.

Obi-Wan leaves one last kiss on the messy curls of his love, and lets himself dream.