#accidental cuddles

[blondechariot]

Lap pillow with the Saja boys, Saja boys wake up from a nap and realize they were napping on the readers lap

pairing: Saja Boys x reader!

warnings: Physical touch, Mild embarrassment, Sleep vulnerability

disclaimer: not my pic!

Jinu

The dance studio was quiet—surprisingly so, considering how chaotic the day had been. You were seated against the mirrored wall, scrolling lazily through your phone as the others wandered off for snacks or phone calls.

Jinu, ever the perfectionist, had stayed behind to review the choreography a few more times… and then sat down beside you to catch his breath.

“Just for a second,” he mumbled, tugging off his cap and rubbing the back of his neck. “My legs feel like cooked noodles.”

You chuckled. “You’ve earned it.”

That “second” stretched into five minutes. Then ten.

At first, he leaned back beside you, head resting lightly against the mirror. His breathing evened out. You glanced over, thinking he’d dozed off.

But then he shifted—slowly, gradually—until his head slid from the wall...

…right onto your lap.

Your breath hitched.

Jinu was asleep. On. Your. Lap.

You didn’t dare move.

His soft black hair tickled your arm, and he let out a little sigh, like the kind toddlers make when they’re fully relaxed. You froze mid-scroll, phone forgotten, watching his peaceful expression. The crease between his brows was gone, replaced by something childlike and vulnerable.

You didn’t expect him to stay there.

But he did.

For over twenty minutes.

Then he woke up.

It started with a twitch—then a confused grunt. His lashes fluttered as he shifted slightly and—

He realized.

His head jerked upward so fast you almost flinched.

“Wait—oh my god—!”

He looked up at you, horror spreading across his face like wildfire.

“Did I—was I—were you—?!”

You nodded slowly, biting back a smile. “You fell asleep on me.”

“Sh*t—uh—sorry! I didn’t mean to! I was—holy crap—” He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the wall like it had answers. “I wasn’t, like, drooling or anything, right?”

You laughed. “No. Just snoring a little. But it was cute.”

“I snored?” His ears were bright red now. “Okay, great. Amazing. This is fine. Totally normal.”

He stood up like the floor was lava, brushing imaginary lint from his pants.

“Next time I need a nap,” he muttered under his breath, “I’m bringing a pillow. Not a person.”

But as he turned to leave, he paused and looked over his shoulder.

“...Thanks though. That was the best rest I’ve had in weeks.”

And then he was gone—face still flushed, but with the smallest smile tugging at his lips.

Abby

One second, Abs was bouncing around the dorm living room, still wearing his sleeveless tank top and sweatpants after practice. The next, he collapsed beside you on the couch, groaning dramatically and flopping sideways like a fainting goat.

“I am no longer a person,” he declared. “Just a sweaty ghost.”

You didn’t even get a chance to reply before he threw one arm across your lap like it was his personal armrest and mumbled:

“Wake me in twenty... or never. Whichever comes first.”

You blinked. “Abby.”

No response.

“Abs,” you said again, poking his shoulder.

A light snore answered you.

He was out.

Fully out. Arm still draped across your legs, head tipped onto your thigh like it was a memory foam cushion. He curled slightly into your side like a sleepy cat and let out the softest sigh you’d ever heard from a man that shredded dance routines like he shredded shirt sleeves.

You looked down at him—messy hair, flushed cheeks, completely relaxed expression—and sighed in disbelief.

“You’re so lucky you’re cute,” you muttered.

He slept for exactly twenty-three minutes.

Then his fingers twitched. A soft grunt. And then—his head lifted in slow, confused horror.

“Huh—wha—wait.”

His eyes widened.

His head turned.

And saw where it had been.

“NOPE.”

He flung himself off your lap so fast, he knocked one of the couch cushions to the floor. You burst out laughing as he scrambled into a seated position on the opposite end like you were lava.

“OH MY GOD—DID I ACTUALLY—???”

You nodded, wiping a tear from your eye. “Out cold. You snuggled like a baby.”

“I SNUGGLED?!”

“Just a little. It was cute.”

His ears turned red.

“I don’t snuggle,” he insisted, crossing his arms like a sulking gremlin. “I power rest. In a... tactical cuddle formation.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Right. A tactical cuddle.”

“You’re not telling the others, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m absolutely telling the others.”

“Y/N, I swear to—”

But then you grinned at him—really grinned—and his whole face softened. He rubbed the back of his neck and muttered:

“...Thanks. I didn’t mean to. But it felt... nice.”

He didn’t look at you when he said it.

But his voice was sincere.

Mystery

It was late. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago, but you and Mystery remained in the practice room, sitting on the warm wooden floor.

Neither of you spoke much.

You didn’t have to.

You were both just… there. Quiet company. The kind that didn’t feel like pressure or noise.

He sat beside you with his arms folded loosely around his knees, head leaning back against the wall, his gaze tracking the slow rotation of the ceiling fan above. His hoodie was too big, sleeves covering half his hands, and his expression unreadable as always.

You glanced at him. “Tired?”

He blinked slowly, then nodded.

“Yeah. But I like this. Just… sitting. It’s calm.”

You smiled softly and went back to scrolling your phone. A few minutes passed like that, unspoken and easy.

And then—you felt a shift.

You glanced down and stilled.

Mystery’s head had tipped sideways.

Onto your lap.

Eyes closed. Hair falling gently across his forehead. Breathing slow and steady. You froze, phone hovering in midair as if one wrong move might break the moment.

You waited for him to jolt back up.

He didn’t.

Instead, he exhaled softly—almost like relief—and his entire body relaxed, melting into your presence like he meant to be there.

And maybe he did.

You didn’t move.

Didn’t dare.

Thirty minutes later, he stirred.

At first, it was barely noticeable—just a twitch of his fingers. Then he shifted, blinked slowly, and froze.

His head still on your lap.

Your eyes met.

“Oh.”

That was all he said. Just “oh.”

His body tensed.

“I didn’t mean to—” he started, sitting up way too fast, avoiding your gaze. “I wasn’t trying to—I thought I was still—against the wall—”

You tilted your head, amused. “You sleepwalk into people’s laps often?”

He groaned, dragging a sleeve over his face. “I’m gonna pretend this never happened.”

You leaned back on your hands, watching him melt into shy discomfort.

“It’s okay. You seemed peaceful.”

“God,” he muttered. “I probably drooled.”

“You didn’t.”

“Snored?”

“Barely.”

He looked at you, finally. His eyes were soft behind the embarrassment. Something gentle flickered there.

“...Was it okay? I mean—I wasn’t being weird, right?”

Your chest warmed. “It was nice.”

He nodded slowly, gaze lowering again.

Then, so quiet you almost didn’t catch it:

“It felt safe.”

You didn’t respond right away.

You just smiled—and bumped his knee lightly with yours.

“Good. You deserve safe.”

Romance

Romance was always the last one to wind down. Even after a full day of rehearsal, press, and soundchecks, he still had enough energy to pace the living room, complain dramatically about his sore shoulders, and demand someone “pity his hard-working body.”

You didn’t indulge him at first.

But eventually, his endless sighs of exhaustion made you pat the couch cushion beside you and say, “Fine. Sit here and be dramatic.”

“Thank you. Finally, someone who understands me,” he huffed, dropping beside you with exaggerated flair.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re exhausting.”

“I’m exhausted,” he corrected, tipping his head back. “So tired I could just—” He shifted, leaning sideways.

You expected him to flop against the backrest like usual.

You did not expect his head to land softly in your lap.

Your hands froze mid-text on your phone. You looked down.

Romance. Fully horizontal. Face turned toward your stomach. One arm draped off the couch. Entirely still.

And... totally asleep.

“Are you serious?” you whispered.

You gently nudged his shoulder. “Romance.”

Nothing.

He let out a light sigh and snuggled in closer—snuggled, like he knew exactly where he was and was absolutely fine with it.

Your heart stuttered.

You should’ve pushed him off.

But instead, you stared at his peaceful features—lashes brushing his cheeks, lips slightly parted, the usual flirtatious sparkle completely absent.

Just quiet. Calm. Real.

And somehow... it felt kind of nice.

Thirty-five minutes later, he stirred with a low groan.

He blinked groggily, still facing your stomach.

“Mmmn...what time is it?”

You didn’t answer.

Instead, you watched the moment realization hit.

He stiffened.

Looked down.

Then looked up.

Eyes wide.

“...No.”

You smiled. “Yes.”

“No. No, no, no, no—don’t tell me I fell asleep here.”

You shrugged. “Right in my lap. Like a cat.”

He sat bolt upright, face flushing. “Oh my god—please say I didn’t snore. Or like... say anything weird.”

You bit your lip. “You mumbled something about whipped cream.”

“You’re kidding—”

You weren’t. He had.

“I’m never sleeping again,” he said, flopping backward dramatically onto the floor, hand over his eyes.

“It wasn’t that bad,” you teased.

“I am a cool, mysterious idol. I don’t cuddle in laps like some sort of—domestic boyfriend character!”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s okay to be soft sometimes.”

He peeked at you from under his arm.

“...You’re not mad?”

You chuckled. “Nah. It was sweet. Kinda charming, actually.”

He paused.

Then grinned.

“Well, I am charming.”

And just like that—flustered, red-faced, but still him—he sat back up and nudged your knee with his.

“But just so we’re clear, this never happened.”

“Of course,” you said, already opening your phone camera. “Definitely not saving this mental image forever.”

“Y/N—!”

Baby

It had been a quiet night in the dorm — just you and Baby finishing a movie neither of you was fully watching anymore. Everyone else had gone to bed, but the two of you stayed on the floor in front of the coffee table, surrounded by empty snack bags and one half-warm blanket.

He had started the movie sitting cross-legged. Then he lay on his stomach. Then curled sideways. Then let his head fall onto your shoulder with a tired sigh.

“Do you mind if I just rest here for a second?” he mumbled, already slipping lower.

You glanced down as he adjusted again — and blinked in surprise when his head slid off your shoulder and… landed right in your lap.

You paused.

“Uh… Baby?”

No response.

“...Seriously?”

But then you heard it. The tiny, steady rhythm of his breath. The softest sigh, like a balloon slowly deflating. His entire body went still — not awkwardly, not like someone pretending — but completely and genuinely asleep.

He’d knocked out. Just like that. On you.

His head was warm against your thighs, hair tickling your skin, the faint scent of coconut shampoo lingering in the air. His expression was pure innocence — peaceful, open, almost childlike in the way he slept.

You couldn’t bring yourself to wake him.

So you sat there quietly, gently adjusting the blanket to cover his legs, letting the soft hum of the TV fill the silence.

Somewhere deep in your chest, something warm settled.

When he woke up, it was because he sneezed. Loudly.

You both jumped.

He bolted upright, hair messy, blinking wildly. “Wha—huh?!”

He looked around, confused — and then looked down at where he’d been.

Right in your lap.

His eyes went huge.

“...Wait. Was I—was that—was I asleep?!”

You nodded, lips twitching. “For almost an hour.”

“In your lap?!”

Another nod.

He stared in stunned horror.

“I didn’t mean to—I swear—I just—your lap was, like, right there—and it was warm, and I was really tired, and—”

He trailed off, burying his face in his hands.

“This is so embarrassing.”

You laughed. “It’s okay. I didn’t mind.”

“I snuggle when I sleep,” he admitted in a tiny voice. “Like... I nuzzle. Did I nuzzle?!”

You tried to keep a straight face. “Just a little.”

“I’m never sleeping again.”

“It was kind of cute,” you offered gently. “Actually... really cute.”

He peeked through his fingers, still blushing, but a shy smile formed at the corners of his mouth.

“...You sure you don’t mind?”

You tilted your head. “If anything, it was nice. Peaceful. You’re a good napper.”

He looked at you for a moment, then back at the spot where he’d been.

Then, quieter:

“...Can I do that again sometime?”

Your heart melted.

“Yeah,” you said. “Anytime.”

He beamed. A little bashful. A little proud.

Then he grabbed the blanket and mumbled, “Okay, well now I’m never moving out.”

[tempo-takoyaki]

Merry Christmas!! I hope you all have a wonderful day <3

EDIT: I accidentally posted this too early but know this illustration is referring to a previous comic if you'd like to read it ! [Christmas 2023]

[wafywaify]

i hate svsss fics that downplay sqqs (yuan) trauma incredibly.

and not in the sqq pov where hes just an unreliable narrator, no, I mean when the author very clearly did not understand how dramatic what happened to him was. i dont see them very often but every time i do i just sigh and leave it lol.

i doubt this is done on purpose but for those who actually enjoy that uh view of things (?) thats fine, totally cool. kudos to you and everything- but at least put a warning in the tags. im begging.

ive gotten really into some of these fics without realizing and its just so disappointing but i cant just leave it unfinished, yknow? the shen yuan in me wont allow it

like bro literally got half his limbs ripped off by a person with the face he loved and has died for MULTIPLE TIMES. and then was raped..? by that same person??? (not that im blaming binghe, they were both victims) but like. CMON??? oh and dont even get me started on the whole "binghes going to want revenge after i unwillingly had to push him into literal hell, i must prepare" and the entire holy mausoleum arc.. aint no way hes totally chill after that man. for years he was just waiting for death while also mourning white lotus bingbing..

give me more fics of sqq having breakdowns, ptsd, trauma!! he deserves to cry!!! sqq is just as traumatized as binghe!! let the man sob!! preferably in binghes arms!!!

[wikiangela]

I don’t have to try at all (loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done)

written for @bucktommywinterfest

prompt: january 19-25: sports au and/or love confessions rated: G word count: 3.4k

[read on Ao3]

Buck wakes up to two alarms ringing at the same time way too early in the morning, from both sides of the bed. There’s a big, heavy body pressing him into the mattress, hot breath tickling his neck, and a groan of disapproval when he tries to untangle himself from Tommy enough to reach for his phone. “Baby,” Buck chuckles, running his hand through Tommy’s messy curls, “we gotta get up, we have work.” “Mm, I know, but you’re so comfortable,” his boyfriend complains, nuzzling his face into Buck’s neck further, arms tightening around him to keep him in place. Buck thinks he would crawl into his skin if he could. He gets it, because the feeling is very much mutual.  “Trust me, I don’t wanna move, either,” he says, wrapping his arms back around Tommy, and letting the alarms ring out until they snooze themselves. “We can cuddle for five minutes, but when the alarm rings again, we really gotta get up.” “Mhm, fine with me.” He feels Tommy smile against his skin, presses a kiss there.  Buck sighs contentedly, a hand still playing with Tommy’s hair, the other starting to caress his back, and he gets a pleased hum in return. It’s not even half a minute later when he hears a light snore as Tommy dozes off again, and Buck reins in a chuckle that’s trying to escape him.

[read on Ao3]

[oacahalandito]

Look at them, so adorable!

[invye]

We are interrupting our regularly scheduled program to bring you a snippet of a potential ZoSan undercover as a married couple fic:

(Timeline wise shoehorned in sometime shortly after the timeskip, before the Strawhats make it back into the news big time.)

(People need saving from a exclusive circle of nobility, but most of the Stawhats have already been seen around the island, so the lot ends up on Zoro and Sanji to try get in posing as a freshly married couple on their honeymoon to try get more information.)

[after coming up with the plan and Zoro and Sanji hesitantly agreeing]

Robin: "You seem a little stressed, Cook-san."

Sanji, chain-smoking his third cigarette: "I'm fine, I'll do this… I just… I don't like lying about something as significant as marriage, alright? I know it's stupid, but that's just how I am."

Luffy, perking up from where one might have thought he wasn't paying attention at all: "Oi, Sanji, promise to protect Zoro?"

Sanji, puffing out smoke: "Obviously, the Marimo would get lost within all of two seconds without me having his back."

Luffy: "Good! Now, Zoro--!"

Zoro, already rising to the bait: "Oi, if anyone is protecting anyone, I'll be guarding your lanky ass, shit cook!"

Luffy, laughing: "Alright, then as the captain of this ship I hereby pronounce you married!"

Zoro:

Sanji:

Robin: "Oh my, congratulations!"

Brook: bursts into song

Luffy, grinning at Sanji: "See, now it's not a lie anymore, so you don't have to feel bad about calling Zoro your husband."

Zoro: "LUFFY!!! YOU CAN'T JUST--"

Sanji: wordlessly walks off to get ready for the mission

Usopp: "Wait, wait!" runs after Sanji, grabbing his wrist

Sanji: stares

Usopp, sweating nervously: "Need your ring size…"

Sanji: staring intensifies

Usopp, scurrying off as quickly as humanly possible: "Wedding gift!"

Luffy, in the distance, still being yelled at by Zoro: "Too bad we don't have time to celebrate, I really want some wedding cake… :("

[yuwuta]

prince satoru who gets drunk at every ball, gala, and formal gathering because he knows it means you, his knight in waiting, will have to drag him away and spend time trying to sober him up. he really doesn’t care much for liquor (and when it takes merely a half chalice of wine to get him tipsy, he hardly considers what he’s doing a problem), but he does care for you, and he cares a lot about having your attention and your hands on him as you try to get him to settle down and feed him bread and water. it’s a much better way to spend the evening if you ask him

[dick-helmet-magneto]

asexual cherik where everyone thinks chess is a metaphor for them fucking nasty but they really are just playing chess maybe with alcohol or a cup of tea

[actualbird]

one of gatito's favorite things is our wifi router. #hiswifirouter

[foldedchip]

NSFW sketches that I might take down later

👉👈

He’s a silly noodle guys and he needs a lover 🥺

[sillyromance]

Good day everyone!

I like the trope in which a pred loses control and devours someone they care about deeply - and their feelings are what shields the prey from danger.

The predator's mind is clouded by hunger. All they want is to eat something, someone - and the first person they see is their friend/partner who is absolutely clueless about the pred's condition. Not until, of course, the pred roughly drops them on the floor and pins their hands down. The prey can't do anything but stare in those blank eyes above, at the dear face distorted with pain and desire. Into a dark gullet quivering with anticipation.

Maybe, they fight and scream, begging to be let go. Maybe, they freeze in fear, or attempt to reason their beloved. Or, maybe, they just relax, even smile a little, accepting their role as food for someone they've loved for so long. The end is the same for each: the prey is swiftly slurped up the pred's powerful throat and pushed into the hungry stomach clenching around them in a manner which makes it clear - there is no way the prey will be leaving this place any time soon...

Hours pass by...

Eventually, the pred obtains their senses back and realizes what they have done. It's already dark outside; digestion should be coming to an end by now. Tears instantly spill out of the pred's eyes as they hit their head in distress, calling themselves a monster and sobbing helplessly, curses upon themselves mixing with apologies to someone they think they've lost forever.

But a hesitant twitch within makes them stop howling.

A few new movements follow, and then the pred feels as two little hands begin to rub their belly from the inside. The voice of their precious friend/partner coos at them softly, comforting them, telling them it's OK, no harm has been done...

Is it a hallucination!?

In a flash, the pred spits their friend/lover out. The latter is coughing and cringing at sticky saliva coating them all over, but in general, they are perfectly fine. Before the prey can react, two strong arms wrap around them. The pred is crying.

- I thought... I thought I killed you... - They whisper, grasping at the wet back and shoulders of their beloved, still suspicious it's not them, but a ghost, a mirage...

- Shshsh... Easy, easy, my darling. You would never do that... You love me, don't you? I know you do: your stomach was so gentle and cozy, as if it knew I was in there... - The prey strokes the pred's hair and leans closer, giving their partner a good feel of their real, solid body.

The pred exhales in relief, still shaking.

It is truly a miracle.

[kenneduck]

Redesigned my zorasona today~ Kenne is the daughter of a Zora Queen from a deep sea domain. She delegates on her family’s behalf with other domains. When visiting Zora’s Domain in Hyrule, she was assigned Bazz as her personal guard during her visit. The two bonded quite nicely~

Kenne isn’t clumsy, but is when out of water, as her domain is submerged. Bazz’s job 90% of the time is making sure no one gets hit by Kenne’s tail. She already knocked Finley off the domain. //no one ever said she was a GOOD Royal delegate.//

[formulaonedirection]

Hi!! Do you video link for the third gif?

Hello friend the gif from this post is from a podcast they did with the band shame for some weird reason it's ONLY on Spotify but I highly recommend everyone watching through the whole thing they have really good chemistry with the hosts. Here's the clip tho!!!

[pollyna]

It's an accident, the first time that happens. Mav knocks because he needs sugar and stays over because Ice is watching a new movie he didn't get to catch on the big screen. It's two in the afternoon, and Ice is pleasantly warm against his shoulder.

Slider wakes them up four hours later and laughs because "I only woke you up because I was hungry and Tom promised dinner".

And so the saga of them falling asleep on the couch starts just to end on the bed because four weeks in Ice's back is protesting and he promises Mav is bed is way more comfortable and there are pillows.

(Mav ends up using Ice's chest as a pillow instead. Doesn't matter where they are sleeping.)

((They kiss, just as accidentally, one morning almost seven months in their arrangement when Ice turns around and Mav gives him a pec on his nose, eyes still close and humming satisfied before hiding his face against Ice's necks. Ice kisses his forehead and gets back to sleep. It opens a door to whole other accidents made over a shared cups of coffee and Mav wearing Ice's shirt as pj's.)

[merakiimoon]

In Sickness and in Health | Reigen Arataka x GN!Reader

REUPLOAD FROM 2023!! Desc: Reigen takes care of you while you have a cold. Genre(s): Fluff Warning(s): None! Character(s): Reigen Arataka WC: 1,235

You’re sitting on your couch, huddled up in blankets, and hacking up your lungs when you hear the doorbell ring.

You groan in annoyance and slip out from under the covers, trudging to the door.

You open it and are shocked to see none other than your boss standing in the doorway, carrying a large container and two small bags.

“What are you doing here??” you whisper-yell, covering your snotty nose.

“I’m here to take care of you,” he says, peeking in through the door crack.

“It’s fine. I don’t need your help. Plus, I don’t want you to see me like this,” you sniffle.

“Yeah well, I don’t want to see you die,” he says, pushing past you.

“That’s an overreaction.”

“Now I’m practically incapable of cooking anything else, but my mom always makes this for me when I’m sick. It’s rice porridge. Pair it with some tea and you should be better in no time,” he rambles.

“Do you usually go to all of your employees' houses when they’re sick?” you ask, looking at him as he seems to make himself at home.

“Only my favorites,” he responds, winking at you.

You feel your face get warmer than it already is and you look away. “Whatever.”

“And aren’t you going to get sick?” you ask, trying your hardest to get him out of your apartment.

“Colds aren’t my thing,” he retorts.

You roll your eyes and sniffle. “That’s what I thought too.”

“Where are your bowls?” he asks, ignoring you.

“What about the office? Customers?” you continue.

“None. We closed early. Listen, if you’re gonna keep trying to get rid of me, it isn’t going to work. I’m taking care of you and that’s that.” Reigen says, looking directly at you. “We- I Need you at the office. Now, where are your bowls?”

You sigh in exasperation as you show him the cabinet that has the dishes.

He smiles and thanks you as he grabs one. He scoops the porridge into it and hands it to you.

“The texture is kind of like oatmeal. It should help warm you up.”

You mutter a thanks and get a spoon.

“Wow, this place is a mess,” Reigen chides, picking things up off the floor. “There are tissues everywhere and the dishes in the sink look like they haven’t been touched since 1985.”

“Yeah, well it isn’t so easy to keep neat and tidy when your respiratory system is collapsing in on itself,” you respond as you sink onto the couch.

Reigen lets out a sarcastic laugh as you hear the sink turn on and dishes clinking together. “You could have called or texted. Anything.” He yells over the water. “I was worried about you.”

You ingest a spoonful of the porridge. Sure enough, the texture was just like oatmeal. The warmness of it brought you the slightest bit of comfort.

“So you came to my house in the middle of the day to play babysitter?

The sink turns off and Reigen joins you on the couch. He grabs your blankets off the floor and wraps them around your shoulders.

“Fine. I guess I haven’t been completely honest,” he begins, avoiding your eyes. “You’re my favorite employee, aside from Mob. But even more than an employee, I see you as a friend.”

He crosses his arms across his chest. “So, naturally, I want to care for my sick friends. Plus, things are boring at work without you.”

“Ahh, there it is,” you laugh. “You need me for entertainment.”

He lowers his arms and looks at you. “No really! I do consider you my friend. And I really do hate seeing you so sick.”

You smile gently. “I’m glad you care for me.”

He nods and smiles.

“I’m gonna clean up a bit and then I’ll get out of your hair,” he says, getting off the couch.

“By the way,” he says, opening one of the two bags he brought. “Did you know that eucalyptus oil is amazing for clearing sinuses and muscle tension? …I can put it on your scalp for you.”

You shrug and usher him over to you.

He opens up a small brown vial and dots a few drops of oil along your scalp. He gently massages it in, and you feel soothed by the gentle minty scent.

“How’s that feel?” he asks, still rubbing it in.

You sigh in tranquility. “Just great.”

“That’s good!” he says, stopping. “Now you know to do the rest yourself. Just put it on your scalp or sniff it when you feel your nose getting stuffed again.”

He drops the vial in your hands and walks away.

“Now for laundry…”

You stare at the small brown container in your hands and smile to yourself. Maybe getting Reigen’s help wasn’t so bad after all. It felt nice to have someone take care of you.

You and Reigen talk about anything and everything as he helps you with the chores you’ve been too burnt out to do.

As time progresses, the sun begins to set and the once-colorful sky transitions into night.

You feel your eyelids get heavier and heavier, and eventually, you fall asleep on your couch.

Reigen sits next to you, smiling at how peaceful you look as you sleep.

He adjusts the blanket around you so that you’re snug. “You really are my favorite.”

Getting off the couch, he grabs his belongings and walks towards the door, preparing to make his leave. When he opens it, a sudden alarm starts ringing throughout the apartment, making you jolt awake. “What the..”

You look over and see Reigen, face red, midway through opening the door.

“I’m really really sorry,” he says, closing the door quickly, “I don’t know what happened, I was just trying to leave quietly and…”

“It’s not your fault,” you giggle, getting up to sit upright. “I turned the alarm on a while ago.”

Reigen nods. “Yeah. Um, so.. Can you turn it off? It’s late now and I want you to get rest. I don’t want to disturb you,” he chuckles.

The two of you sit in awkward silence while you try to work the nerve to ask a question.

You take a deep breath and start to fidget with your fingers. “Actually..”

Reigen raises his eyebrow and looks you in the eye. “Yeah?”

“.. Could you.. Stay here tonight?”

He cocks his head to the left and smiles gently. “I thought you didn’t need my help.”

You shake your head. “Maybe I do. You really did help me feel better, Reigen.”

He gives you a gentle smile and drops his stuff onto the ground. “Move over.”

When you wake up, Reigen’s arms are around you, and your face is settled on his chest.

Your heart starts beating a little bit faster as you see his peaceful face.

God, he was so cute.

You stare at him for a while until he finally opens his eyes.

He looks down at you and smiles. “Good morning. How do you feel?”

“..Good,” you say, smiling back. “I feel a lot better. Nose isn’t as stuffy.”

“I’m glad.”

You laugh lightly and nuzzle your face deeper into his chest.

You remain in his warm embrace until you suddenly hear him let out a rather aggressive sneeze, one that sounded all too familiar.

You look up at him and see him with a sniffly red nose.

“Shit.”

Thank you so much for reading!!! <3

[thechibilitwick]

i love drawing wet sopping middle aged men (video i used)