#wanted to include sleepy snuggles

[artsymeeshee]

(Ｔ▽Ｔ)

(As always DON’T tag as ship :T)

[sysig]

Pets have to run around in the middle of the night, it’s very important (Patreon)

Bonus Sims screenshots ♥

[mytheoristavenue]

Do you think you could do somewhere like where the straw hats + doflamingo are really tired after a hard day and reader offers their lap for them to lay on? And they end up falling asleep? Sorry if it's to much to ask, or if you've done something similar 😅 😭

I originally wasn't going to do this, because I don't really write for OP anymore, but sure! Also, Doflamingo will not be included, as I am not up to that point in the anime yet!

OP Strawhats lying on your lap!

Summary: After a long day, you offer to let them rest in your lap!

Warnings: Innuendo on some, mostly fluff, short

Monkey D. Luffy:

"Ugh, I'm so tired!" The captain groaned, wandering below deck after hours of standing very still at the help of the ship. Nami had condemned him to boredom after finding out how much money he blew on food the past week while in port and he had finally finished serving his punishment.

"You look it," You mused with a small smile. You rolled your eyes as he approached you, dramatically swaying. "Oh, c'mere then, before you fall over."

Luffy cheered, collapsing to the floor, head snuggly tucked in your lap, sighing happily. "You're the best..." He purred, already on the verge of drifting off.

Roronoa Zoro:

Zoro had been crabby all day, he was just tired and it was entirely his own fault. That meant it was everyone else's problem. He was currently ranting at Sanji for something silly when you whistled at him and called him over. "I'm not a damn dog! You can't just-" You patted your thigh invitingly. His shoulders slumped and he came over and planted his cheek against your thigh, not caring for who saw.

"You better stop staying up all night working out." You scolded lightly, raking your fingers through his short hair.

"Yeah, yeah..."

Nami:

"They're all just so dumb!" She groaned, pacing the floors. "You have no idea how hard it is being a secretary to these men." You simply nodded and listened, knowing better than to interject during a rant. "Like seriously, you don't wanna know how much Luffy spent on food while we were ported. And I don't mean for all of us, just for himself!"

Eventually, her pacing turned to standing, then sitting beside you, and finally, she found herself lying between your legs, face snuggled into your inner thigh, anger ebbing in exchange for drowsiness.

"Feel better?" You asked softly, petting her tangerine hair gently.

"I guess..."

Usopp:

You entered his workshop, shoulders slumping at the sight. He was slumped over the workbench again, cheek squished to the wooden surface. You rolled your eyes and approached him, nudging him lightly. "Usopp," You whispered so as not to startle him, though ultimately, your caution was for not.

He jumped, scrambling up into a straight sitting position. "(Y-Y/N)! Y-You can't just scare me like that!" You simply snickered and pulled him up and toward the small bed in the corner. "No, I gotta finish this project-"

"I'll let you lay in my lap." You offered with a knowing smile.

"O-Okay!" He smiled sheepishly, following you, collapsing in your lap without hesitation. The moment he stopped shifting, he began to snore again.

Vinsmoke Sanji:

You had watched him bustle around the kitchen all day, refusing any help offered to him. In the back of your mind, you knew, when Sanji crashed, he'd crash hard. As predicted, after the dinner dishes were finished, he made a beeline for you, hugging you tightly. "I'm so tired..." He mumbled into your ear, voice deep and groggy. "What would be the best way to charm you without exhausting any effort?"

"Consider me charmed." You scoffed playfully, pulling him over to the couch in the lounge before patting your thigh. The way he stared at you, you would have thought you'd just asked him to claim you right then and there. His face was red, eyes glued to your thighs. "Behave yourself." You wanted as he dropped to the floor and nuzzled between your plush thighs.

"Yes ma'am!"

Tony Tony Chopper:

It was typical of Chopper to get sleepy earlier than the rest of the crew, frequently curling up with Robin while the adults settled down to enjoy an evening activity together. This night was different only in one way.

"Ha, royal flush!" You laughed, laying your cards on the table and claiming the cash in the middle of it. You nearly yelped when you felt soft fur brush your calf. Looking down, you found the reindeer climbing up on the bench beside you and curling up in your lap.

"Awe..." You cooed on a whisper, shushing the rowdy rest. "Look at him..."

"It seems I've been replaced," Robin mused with a gentle smile. "How tragic."

Nico Robin:

It was known that on especially hard days, she would welcome you into her lap, uttering soothing words or reading silently while threading her long nails through your hair. But tonight was different. You could tell she was upset, despite her cool nature. When you'd finally convinced her to open up, you found that she was having unpleasent dreams involving her past.

"Can't get anything past you, can I?" She laughed sadly, before her brows shot up in surprise as you patted your lap.

"I know I'm probably not as good at this as you are..." You muttered sheepishly. "But..."

To your delight, she laid down, face up in your lap, and allowed you to play with her hair while she read quietly to herself. "You couldn't be more wrong, this is perfect." She sighed blissfully.

Cyborg Franky:

Franky had been in an awfully sour mood lately, totally uncharacteristic of him. After witnessing him get into a small argument with Usopp over a new ship upgrade thew were collaborating on, you knew you had to have a word with him. "Franky, what's your deal lately?" You huffed, hands on your hips.

"No deal," He scoffed, turning away. "What's it to ya?"

"You're acting like Zoro when he misses a nap." Your eyes narrowed sternly. He sighed.

"I ain't been sleepin' well, okay?" He finally admitted sheepishly. You softened, smiling slightly.

"Why didn't you just say so?" You climbed up on a large crate of ale, sitting at the perfect height, patting your lap. "Come take a nap, you'll feel better."

"N-Nah, I'll be good," He shook his head, cheeks a bit pink. After a bit more convincing, he finally sat on the floor, back against the crate, and rested his head in your lap as you brushed the cyan locks from his eyes and removed his shades. "You were right, this is nice..."

Brook:

The ship was eerily quiet today and for the life of you, you couldn't figure out why. Suddenly, it hit you. You hadn't seen or heard Brook all day long. After asking around, you found him in the lounge, staring at the fish. "Brook, you okay?" You asked softly, tilting your head into his view.

"Oh, yes, my dear. Just in thought." He sighed, empty sockets seemingly tracking the tropical fish as they wandered the glass enclosure. "The only I get, the younger my old friends seem." He admitted quietly and your eyes softened.

You weren't entirely sure how long had passed as you sat there with him, watching the fish interact with one another, or when you'd begun to lean into one another. "Brook?" You asked softly, eyes never looking away from the tank. "I can't do much to help but...would you like to lay in my lap?"

"I'd like that very much, my dear." He replied, patiently waiting for you to get into a comfortable position before laying out his lanky form on the sofa between your thighs. "This helps so much more than you know." The pair of you stayed that way for a while until you began to feel skeletal phalanges lightly digging into the meat of your legs. "You know, since you're in such a giving mood..."

"You're done." You deadpanned, pushing him away.

Jinbe:

You had never had much experience with Jinbe, having only known him for a short while, be he seemed to always know when the emotional atmosphere around him had changed. Thanks to this empathy, he noticed immediately when you'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed. "(Y/N)? What's the matter?" He asked, cocking a brow as you stepped below deck.

"Just in a mood..." You grumbled, coldly brushing him off. Ever patient, he simply gave you a warm smile and let you be. As the day wore on, you both found yourself winding down in the lounge. You grumpy day catching up with you, you dozed off, cheek pressed to his shoulder. Smiling fondly, Jinbe repositioned you, delicately resting your head in his lap, large webbed hand very carefully brushing the fringe from your eyes.

[mwphisto]

LaDs: What I think they smell like

~ this is gonna be a lil too specific so… heh

~ All love interests included

A note from Soul: all of these are based on vibes!! So like they mint smell different for everyone who reads this because… some of them aren’t exactly scents. So if you don’t agree with them; that’s totally okay! Enjoy friends :)

Xavier smells like…

Warm blankets fresh from the dryer. The lingering scent of freshness from the laundry detergent brought out by the heat that dried them. Soft to the touch, soft in scent, enough to make you want to curl up and snuggle for a good nap.

A eucalyptus plant growing on someone’s windowsill. Getting just enough light and water to flourish to its full extent, filling the room with its relaxing scent and inviting color. Quiet discussions of when to re-pot it and when is a good time to harvest some of its fragrant leaves.

The air during summer right before it rains. Dark clouds are rolling in, the temperature is dropping a few degrees, and that familiar ozonic scent seems to linger everywhere you go. You spend the time outside, watching and waiting for the first drips of rain or the first rumble of distant thunder.

Pressing flowers between hardcover books. It’s a hazy summer afternoon, the light catching on the dust floating through the empty library corridor. It’s quiet, the hum of the air conditioner turning into white noise as you focus on your craft.

Zayne smells like…

Freshly made matcha in a small cafe. The air outside is cooling down, autumn is approaching. The sun is lingering in the sky, slowly making its descent. The days are shortening, but the remnant of summer is still floating around in the golden hues that cascade through the glass windows.

Old, but well loved, library books. The ones you pull off the shelf and smile at because of nostalgia. Cracking them open to flip through the pages and the smell of paper and book binding meets your nose. Takes you back to simpler times, and you can’t help but hold it for a little longer and reminisce.

Brown sugar getting mixed into homemade cookie dough. An old family recipe, one only brought out for special occasions or important holidays. The kitchen is buzzing with chatter, music is playing softly in the living room. You’re at peace as you measure out your ingredients, the heat of the stove lulling you as you mix.

Early morning fog, you’re on your way to the airport for a trip. You’re going over everything you need one last time, suitcase by your side as you fumble with the house keys. The air is crisp, the grass is covered in dew, and the air is slowly clearing as the sun breaks up the morning fog. It’s tranquil despite everything.

Rafayel smells like…

Getting ready for dinner after a day at the beach. After tan lotion, fruity shampoo, aloe, salty air. You’re sitting in a hotel room, watching the sun set as you get ready for dinner by the ocean. You’re warm from your day in the sun — tanned or burnt — and a lingering sleepiness clings to you despite the excitement.

Bubbling champagne during new years. Light and airy, the world around you seems to buzz with anticipation of new beginnings. The golden liquor in your glass flute is beckoning you in, fizzing on your tongue just enough to crave more.

Fresh mixed paint and a new cloth canvas. Endless possibilities, no mistakes just happy accidents. The allowance of mess, the realization of free will. You can create whatever your heart desires, again and again until you are completely satisfied.

Ocean swims under the full moon. The water is cold but he’s so warm. Your laughter is echoing along the empty beach, his arms are around your waist as he dives both of you under the salty waves. The kisses taste equally as salty, your arms and legs intertwining messily under the bobbing water.

Sylus smells like…

Fresh leather and cool night air. The streets are bustling with night life, the pavement wet from the earlier rain shower. Neon lights illuminate the dark, casting arrays of colored lights across every passerby. You can still see the moon when you look up, just beyond the towering buildings, a warm hand is guiding you.

A freshly empty barrel of whisky. A mix of warm liquor and cedar wood. Something that settles deep in your bones and grounds you. It’s spicy yet sweet, fresh yet warm. You find yourself enjoying the smell of the barrel more than the taste of the liquid itself. Mouth watering its own sense.

Late night snacks and hushed laughter. Sitting on the counter giggling while the other rummages through the fridge. The sour juice of an orange slice hitting your tongue and making your lips pucker while attempting to stifle a belly laugh. Safety, and intimacy as you share the secret of late night indulgence

The crackling of a fireplace in the middle of winter. Wrapped in fuzzy blankets, a movie playing in the background but the volume is nearly on mute. You’re warm all over, from the fire, from the blankets, from his warmth beside you. It smells like home, and the pine that is burning in the hearth.

Caleb smells like…

A fresh new modeling kit, the plastic still lingers in the air as you carefully rip open the cardboard box it came inside. The living room rug is scratchy on your bare legs, the wooden coffee table cool against your forearms. The world is slowly winding down beyond the windows, but you are just getting started.

Late night talks on a summer night. The cicadas are still droning on, now accompanied by a symphony of frogs. The air is still a little sticky, the pavement still a little hot. But the swing set creeks as you laugh over something he said, secrets shared between you, him, and the stars above.

A summer drive at dusk, with the windows down and music blaring. The air is warm, the ac is blasting even though the windows and sun roof are open. Your hair is blowing, you’re screaming the lyrics to the songs, the car shaking with the bass. You’re positive people are staring every time you reach a light.

A full breakfast with the sun shining through the kitchen window, foggy rays illuminating the table. It smells like fluffy pancakes, fresh berries, sticky syrup. Eggs are sizzling in the pan, the table is being set, the news drones on off in the living room. It’s a comforting kind of chaos, it’s home.

[mellotunekitty]

Dating Jason Todd Would Include…

  He’d be very private when you first started dating, but as he gets more comfortable he’d start to open up. Not huge things, but small things like what he did that day or if something reminded him of you. He’ll hear a song and show it to you explaining that it reminded him of you. It’s not like he runs up to you just to show you though, he’ll sneak the mention of how “it sounds like something you’d like” or something along those lines. 

Along with slowly opening up, he has to slowly adjust to you as a being. Jason always knew that you were there and was very aware of your presence, but having you there by his side most of the time was something he really had to get used to. When you started living together, he felt like he had to hide the evidence of his person existing in that space. He wanted to sit and read before you got home? Ten minutes before you came back he set all the pillows and blankets on the couch EXACTLY how they were before he sat there. 

One thing he enjoys is reading to you. Laying in bed with you while you’re snuggled against his chest as he reads to you in a low, soft voice. That’s his favorite thing. He loves it even more if his reading makes you sleepy and you end up falling asleep on his chest because it lets him know you feel safe enough around him to do that. 

This man does not give a care in the world who you are, he is the one who’s going to take care of you. He could be beaten to a pulp and he’s still going to cook you dinner at the end of the day. Being taken care of makes him feel small, vulnerable, and even a little worthless in a way. If he isn’t taking care of you, he feels like he doesn’t have a purpose with you. 

That being said if he were to give into you taking care of him, it would be very rocky. First, he’d be angry about you taking care of him instead of the other way around. Then, he’d settle into it and let you do your thing. You can see him getting used to it. And then, you’d watch him turn into a clingy, gushy mess. It’s definitely a rare sight, but a little less for you. 

After the first time you take care of him, he’s suddenly very clingy with you. He’ll come home from a late night patrol or mission and instantly get ready for bed so you can hold him. Once you start rubbing his back and peppering kisses all over his face, he’s out like a light, softly snoring against your chest. Of course he’d never admit it though.

[daycourtofficial]

You two are dancing in a snow globe round and round

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 8.2k | warnings: needles/requiring stitches

Summary: four times a trope fails to bring you and Azriel together, one time it prevails. This is my submission for @sjmromanceweek day 5: favorite tropes (and yes these are all elite tropes, argue with the wall 😤)

Author’s note: this is for my You Are in Love by Taylor Swift girlies. Also on the fence about the ending but ya know it felt right and @ninthcircleofprythian loved it so her opinion is the correct one

Fake dating

The streets of Velaris are quiet. A sleepy morning after the holiday excitement of Starfall has died down. A week past it and the fae are still holed up in their homes, only going out when necessary. The cobblestone streets are mostly empty, you, Nyx, and Azriel passing the occasional fae as they move in the opposite direction. They would nod or wave at the three of you, but never linger to talk, eager to get on their way. 

A light tugging on your scarf brings you out of your daze. Looking down to find Nyx’s blue eyes looking up at you, his tiny hands pulling on your scarf. “Az, can you help undo my scarf?”

The two of you stop, moving over to the side of the street to avoid being in anyone’s way. Azriel’s scarred fingers reach out, unwrapping the scarf from your neck, and rewrapping it to include Nyx. The babe has been doing this all week to anyone wearing a scarf - tugging incessantly until he was also tucked into the scarf. If he was after the scent or the warmth, nobody knew. Cassian had even bought him a scarf, a little thin knitted piece of black wool, thinking the boy would be delighted. Nyx cried and pulled on the scarf when Cassian wrapped it around his neck before spitting up on it. 

The princeling is still holding a slight grudge against Cassian, in turn causing the general to try desperately to get Nyx’s affections back - holding him constantly, playing with him, trying to slip him some sweet treats. Cassian’s antics have led the three of you here, walking the streets of town instead of being in the River House. 

You usually watched Nyx in the afternoons and after a week of Cassian’s antics you had quickly grown tired of his need to get back in the heir’s good graces. As soon as Azriel returned from training and bathed, you had rushed the two of them out of the house with you before Cassian could come looking for Nyx.

Nyx settles in your arms, enjoying the comfort the scarf brings him. His head rests against your shoulder, the slightest bit of drool permeating your jacket. You sigh, cursing yourself for wearing your favorite coat when you know just how messy Nyx is.

“He’s quite fond of you,” Azriel’s deep voice is laced with affection. You look down at Nyx, finding it difficult not to coo over how cute he looks snuggled up to you.

“He better be - I spend more time with him than anyone save for Rhys and Feyre. Hopefully he remembers that when I begin my plans to take over the world.”

Nyx’s little giggle comes from underneath the scarf, immediately bringing a smile to your face. One of Azriel’s hands lingers around the small of your back, gently helping guide you down the near empty street. 

“When you take over, will you spare me? I hear a shadowsinger could be very useful in world domination.” He leans into your ear, his voice soft as to not disturb the silence of the road.

You start moving down the street again, Azriel just a half step behind you. His left wing was open around your back, offering protection to you and the princeling. You wanted to sink into it, let his wing envelop you fully.

“You'll have to submit an application, I already have quite a few offers.”

“I’d expect nothing less, but I am hoping some favoritism can move my application forward.”

“Mm, does favoritism come with perks?”

“I’ll buy your lunch and any pretty things you find on the way back to the house.”

“Oh, I like your methods of persuasion, shadowsinger.”

The two of you walk into the bakery, Azriel holding the door open for you and Nyx to walk through first.

“I’m just saying, but if Cassian really expects to keep disrupting my plans with Nyx, the least he could do is make me a smoothie.”

Nyx babbles in your arms, and you look into his violet eyes, the same color as Rhys’s, but they held the same twinkle to them as Feyre’s eyes, “yes, that’s right. I’m right.”

You all get in line, five fae in line ahead of you. Azriel unwraps the scarf from around Nyx, the warmth of the bakery causing him to want to be out of the confines of the fabric.

“But if you woke up a little earlier, you could make one yourself without Nyx there to watch over.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” You ask, your finger tickling Nyx’s side to get him to giggle with you.

Azriel rolls his eyes at your obvious tactics to get the toddler to agree with you, but he can’t help the soft smile he has as Nyx giggles at your poking and flaps his tiny wings.

The older female in front of the two of you turns and gasps at Nyx, her hands flying up to cover her mouth.

“Well, if this isn’t the cutest babe in all of Prythian.” Her face lights up as Nyx flaps his wings harder at the attention he’s getting, hiding his face in your shoulder, hiding his big grin.

“He’s just darling, you two must be thrilled to have such a sweet babe.”

“Oh we’re not-“ Before you can disagree with her, Nyx has made his own decision.

“Mama!” He calls to you, putting his chubby little hands on your face, squishing your cheeks together. You move one of your hands back towards Azriel’s stomach, stopping him from speaking further, deciding to just roll with it.

You crinkle your eyes, “He’s just darling, isn’t he?”

Nyx gives you a toothless grin, and you shoot him a look he mistakes for pure affection, preening under your withering gaze. It is nearly impossible to stay mad at him, his chubby cheeks the ultimate ‘I can do no wrong’.

“How old is he?” You pale, having a hard time keeping track of Nyx’s age. You dig through your mind, trying to remember when Nyx was born. Azriel answers much quicker than your brain could. “He’s fourteen months old.” The female squeals at Azriel’s words, the shadowsinger slightly wincing.

“Wow, what a great age! My boys were little monsters by then, each of them would love walking around at night, they’d always manage to escape their cribs somehow. I can’t imagine how I’d deal with one of them with wings!” She continues, her eyes lit up talking about her kids when they were young. You find it incredibly sweet, until she continues on and on until it’s her turn to order.

Her back to you both, you turn toward Azriel, widening your eyes slightly and looking at her. He shrugs, a soft “what can you do” coming from him. After she orders, the two of you step up, ordering your sandwiches and something sweet for Nyx. The woman gets her sandwich right after you pay, telling you, “it was nice to speak to you - you and your family are beautiful.”

Nodding and smiling, the two of you find a table and sit, Nyx still in your arms. You lightly kick Azriel’s foot underneath the table. “Thanks for paying.”

He sips his coffee, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t want her to think I was a poor father.”

You laugh, the sound causing Nyx to laugh too. The light hit the pair of you, giving the two of you a sort of glow. If Azriel squinted, he could feel the edges of fantasy grasp hold of the image - you holding a winged babe, laughing at something he had said. He wished he had some way to capture this moment, knowing he would return to it over and over in his mind when he couldn’t sleep. He smiled, unable to keep your joy from infecting him. 

One bed

“That’s not funny,” Cassian pouts, looking to you for support. You shrug, taking a sip of your wine to avoid speaking, opting to look towards the portraits on the wall rather than meet his gaze.

“You’re right - it’s hilarious,” Feyre responds, looking at her mate, seeing the comparison. “The last female you hooked up with looked just like Rhys.”

“She did not!” Cassian bellows, slamming his hand on the table. All of you howl in laughter, the revelation of Cassian’s recent hook up bearing quite the resemblance to his brother an endless source of amusement.

Cassian, Mor, Feyre, Rhys, Azriel, and yourself were all nestled into the dining room of the townhouse. The fae light in the room produces an incandescence that provides a stark contrast to the brutal snow storm outside.

You’re all trapped here, none of you brave enough to step far enough outside of the wards to winnow away. The six of you piled into the townhouse earlier in the evening, where you lovingly made a three course meal. It was a monthly tradition - you liked getting everyone together, you loved cooking for your friends, and they loved eating your food. It was a win all around. 

Dinner was just starting to be served when the snowfall took a turn for the worst, coming down in massive heaps of white. 

“Good thing we have a feast right here - I was starting to eye Azriel’s legs.”

Mor rolls her eyes at Cassian, “you were eyeing his legs because you can’t keep your eyes to yourself.”

Cassian smirks at her, a charming grin many females have fallen victim to. “You’re just upset it wasn’t your legs I was looking at.”

“Can we stop discussing my legs?” Azriel grumbles, passing the bowl of mixed vegetables to you. You nod in thanks, scooping a serving for yourself. “At least they’re being kind to you - last week Cassian was making fun of my arms.”

You pout your lip dramatically, but Azriel ignores it, his scowl still on his brother. “I wouldn’t call being the first to be eaten a kindness.”

“It’s not my fault you have short arms. How do you reach anything?” Cassian’s mouth was somehow already full of food, despite one of the platters just making its way to him.

“I believe she reaches things by scaling countertops and climbing shelves,” Rhys adds, plating himself some dumplings before serving some to Feyre’s plate.

“Hey! We were not talking about me, we were discussing Azriel’s delicious thighs!”

“He didn’t specify thigh.” Rhys points out, his fork pointing toward you.

“Oh, but I meant his thighs.” Cassian chimes in, his arm outstretched for another serving of potatoes.

“I’d start with his arms - he has a lot of meat on his bicep.” Mor doesn’t look up from her plate as she states it so casually.

“This conversation has taken a turn for the worse,” Azriel mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose in his fingers. You rub his arm soothingly, and he softens a bit at the feel of your touch.

Until you start squeezing the muscle beneath your hand. He immediately glances at you from the side of his eye, a stony and cold look.

“Flex for me, please.”

“I will not indulge this!” He starts trying to pull his arm away, but your fingers are surprisingly strong.

“Hmmm,” you hum, your hands still wrapped around his bicep, squeezing as you contemplate. “They’re a decent contender, but my vote is the thigh.”

“Not you too!”

You squeeze his arm lightly, “I’m sorry, this is a worst case scenario! I promise I’ll only eat you if you were already dead from like a freak accident.”

“What are our thoughts on someone being run through with my sword as a freak accident?” Cassian muses, licking his fingers dramatically. Azriel scowls at him as everyone around the table giggles.

Azriel turns back to you, “you only picked my legs because you wouldn’t be able to reach my arms.”

You drop your hands from his bicep, mock exasperation on your face. “How dare you! I was complimenting you. Being able to feed a family from your lifeless body is a compliment!”

“I can think of many families more deserving of my meat than you lot.”

He huffs, rotating his body to look at his brother before adding, “don’t you dare, Cassian.” 

Cassian scoffs at the finger pointed in his direction. “You’re the one who said you can feed a village with your cock.”

“That is not what I said! And it was a family, not a village.”

“Whatever.”

The two keep bickering until Cassian throws a green bean at Azriel, who quickly moves his head. A shadow comes and quickly pushes the leftover food on Cassian’s plate into his lap in retaliation.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

Rhys looks equal parts amused and equal parts annoyed, likely at the mess that was made of his chair lining. He looks towards the window, the snow coming down even heavier than before. He sighs.

“I’m assuming we’ll all be staying here tonight?”

Everyone nods, no one wanting to brave the cold, wet snow. Not even Cassian or Azriel volunteer to leave, their bodies tailor made for this kind of weather.

“Right,” he nods, looking at Feyre. “Feyre and I will stay in the big room. You two,” he points to you and Azriel, “can stay in the room with the mirrors. You two,” now pointing to Cassian and Mor, “can stay in the room with some of Feyre’s paintings.”

Your heart picks up, its beat erratic and echoing through your ears. This would hardly be the first time you and Azriel shared a bed, but each time turned you into a bundle of nerves. You spent the entire night doubting each movement you made, uncertain if you were making Azriel uncomfortable until your brain eventually shut down, allowing for sleep to overtake you. 

Every time your worry was for nothing - each night full of nerves brought forth a morning of tangled limbs and warm cuddling. Waking up in his arms did nothing but cause your feelings for Azriel to soar, spending several extra minutes in bed pretending to be asleep, trying to imprint the feel of his arm around your waist to memory.

“No,” Cassian bellows, “she has that painting of Bryaxis in there. Creeps me out. I won’t be able to sleep.”

Rhys breathes through his nose, uncertain when becoming High Lord meant delegating his friend’s fears. “Put it in the closet.”

“I’ll know it’s there.”

“Fine, we’ll take the painting out of there.”

“Maybe Cassian will be who we eat if a simple painting puts him on edge this much.” You whisper conspiratorially, Azriel making a soft hum in acknowledgment. If he can hear the loud beating of your heart, he doesn’t let on. 

You look at him, his face not giving any apprehension away. It was hard not to fall further for Azriel with each look he gave you, each night you two shared a bed just sinking you deeper and deeper into your feelings.

He is beautiful, a detail impossible for anyone to ignore. You have heard countless fae mention it over the years. Most of them only see him from a distance - the cold, mysterious front Azriel wanted the world to see him as. But you have the privilege of seeing him up close, getting to take in every small detail about him.

The exact angle of his nose, how his jawline curves. How his shadows move languidly around his face, almost wanting you to pay attention to his eyes. You’re certain you could draw an exact replica of how his tattoos litter his chest, the design close to Cassian’s, but not quite the same. Azriel’s tattoos were looser, as if his shadows acted as stencils when the tattoos were made. 

You can even tell when his hair gets to the length he finds too long, the black curls getting into his face, his shadows sweeping the hair off his forehead when he trains.

You treat knowing him as if you’re a scholar writing an encyclopedia of Azriel, needing to know every little thing about him.

The weather doesn’t leave much lingering, everyone turning in quickly, seeking solace under a warm comforter. You follow behind Azriel, making your way to the room allocated to the two of you.

‘Room with the mirrors’ was an understatement. Mirrors of all sizes surround the both of you - more with ornate frames, intricately carved figures and plants decorating each one. One mirror even had detailed Illyrian wings on the bottom. You could see yourself and Azriel from every angle, every movement meant for observation.

“Why do they have so many mirrors in here?” 

Azriel’s eyes sweep across the room, counting at least two dozen mirrors. He knew exactly what Rhys used them for. It was impossible to know the High Lord for centuries and not know his bedroom preferences. “Do you really wish to know?”

Shivers go down your spine at his whispering voice. You have the whole room to yourselves, but his proximity is difficult to handle knowing exactly how Rhys and Feyre use this room. 

“It’s obviously because Rhys tries out mirrors until one shows him a flaw.” You watch Azriel grimace through a reflection.

“They’re a bit unnerving.” Several of his shadows dance around the mirrors, almost watching themselves as they slither and writhe. They are putting on quite the show, causing you to nearly miss Azriel’s statement.

“I guess.” You shrug, not really caring too much. In truth, you like the mirrors. It meant there was nowhere for Azriel to hide from you in here. 

A shiver ran up at the thought that you couldn’t hide either. 

A room of truths and being seen.

“I could just winnow back home.” You startle from your thoughts, Azriel’s tight lips and tense shoulders giving away just how uncomfortable he is. Is it your shared company? Or is it the thought of staying in his brother’s spare sex room that’s putting him on such edge?

“But that’s not fun. Besides, you can’t leave me here with Cassian. He’s already disaster planning. I need someone to protect me.” You sit down on a settee, unlacing your shoes. A small part of you doesn’t want Azriel to leave, hoping if you get comfortable, it’ll help him relax. 

An even smaller part doesn’t want to recognize how large that part actually is. You don’t want to be left alone tonight, and you certainly don’t want to have to explore exactly why his absence has such an effect on you.

“You were saying I’m dinner earlier and now I’m your protector. Which is it?” His wings are loosening their stiff hold and from the corner of your eye you see a few shadows nestle beneath the duvet.

“Whichever suits my needs. And tonight I need you to protect me from Cassian.”

Azriel shakes his head, unable to keep the smile off his face as he sits next to you, unlacing his own boots. He nearly takes up half the settee, but you don’t mind as his wing gently drapes around you. He places them neatly next to yours, the domesticity of it lingering in your mind. 

Shoes at the end of the bed, getting ready for bed.

Romance in its simplest form: routine.

He’s gone much too quickly for your liking, his hands quick as he searches drawers for some kind of nightwear. A few shadows help him in his search, pulling out various folds of silk and lace.

“Would you prefer a shirt or one of Feyre’s nightgowns?”

You’d prefer a nightgown, but knowing Feyre’s taste in clothes you know it’d likely leave little to the imagination. Azriel’s already a bit hesitant to stay, and you don’t want to push him further away. 

“Shirt, please.”

You thought he was offering you one of Rhys’s shirts from the drawers, but you’re pleasantly surprised when he unbuttons the front of his shirt, his shadows undoing the ties at the back, before the dark wisps carry the shirt over to you. He’s half turned away from you as he digs through the drawers, but you can still make out the contours of his body, the muscles in his arms moving with him.

You thank the shadows for their help, slipping away to the attached bathroom to change and get ready for bed. This isn’t the first time you’ve shared a bed, but it feels different. More serious somehow. You slip into Azriel’s shirt, the fabric practically melting onto your skin. 

It smells divine. You want to just drown in the fabric here and now.

Instead you go back into the room, finding Azriel in comfortable sleep pants. 

He turns his back to you, doing a sweep of the room to ensure every crevice is shut and locked. When he turns, you can’t help the squeal that leaves your lips at the sight of the words printed on the rear of the pants. 

Azriel looks back around at you, only to find you pointing and giggling where his ass had been a few seconds before.

“Your pants say juicy!” Sure enough, the purple plush pants had the word ‘juicy’ in rhinestones and all capital letters. “No wonder Cassian wants to eat you, you’re practically advertising it!”

Your laughs are practically bouncing off the mirrors, Azriel’s body surrounded by your joy. He wants to be annoyed at these ridiculous pants Rhys clearly wears, but as your laughs continue, his annoyance is all an act. He tries his best to keep a neutral expression, but he’s certain some forlorn look of longing is in its place.

“Ha ha, very funny. Can we go to bed?” You’re still a ball of giggles as you make your way to the bed, awkwardly shuffling, a bit unsure. This part is always confusing and awkward - the two of you shuffling, waiting to see what the other would do. 

Azriel is well-versed in loving from a distance. He was convinced for so long that if Mor only saw him, acknowledged him, it’d be enough. And then he met you. And Mor became nothing more than she had always been - his friend. 

Tonight. Tonight he would not love you from a distance. His legs carried him to the bed, taking the initiative as his wings spread out against the mattress. He pulls back your side of the duvet, his hand patting the bed. An invitation.

Your cheeks turn a shade of red he wanted to paint the walls with. He could see himself in the mirror behind you, one of his wings twitching in delight that he found himself attractive.

Maybe just being in your gaze did that to him - opened him up to see who he could be. Maybe your gaze made him preen like a male bird, putting his best self on display. Or maybe it was the tattoos of his chest on full display, his sweatpants hidden beneath the duvet already.

“Are you going to hog the blankets?” Your words come out a bit shaky, trying to shift your focus from his warm body as you get in next to him. His wing curls back up, tucking in close to his body to make room for you. You shimmy into bed, pulling the duvet back over your body. For several minutes you lay there, practically stock still trying to avoid moving or disturbing Azriel, until he twitches lightly. You turn and notice his pinched brows, trying to hide the discomfort from his furled wings.

“I could- sleep on top of you? So you can spread out your wings? I just want you to be comfortable.” You add hastily, turning on your side to see him better. The bed was large enough for Illyrian wings, but you’re lying right in the middle of the bed, making it impossible for his wings to stretch out.

He’s silent, clearly thinking you’re question over. He’s taking longer than you expected, hesitance in your words as you speak again.

“Or I could sleep on the floor.” Your last word comes out as a gasp, his fingers quickly wrapping around your hips, pulling you on top of him. One of his hands moves around your head, tucking you into his chest. The other moves to your back, his fingers rubbing soothing strokes down your spine as he adjusts to be laying right in the middle of the bed. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” His fingers keep moving, not stopping their soothing patterns. His wings drop dramatically onto the bed, practically yelling at you to accept the space you gave away to them.

“Somehow, I think I’ll survive.” You let out a breath, finally letting yourself relax and breathe normally again. You burrow your face in his chest, the piney scent of him making your eyes droop. His fingers are soothing against your skin, each movement gently guiding you closer and closer to sleep. 

“Now if Cassian comes looking for a midnight snack he’ll have to get through you first.” You pinch his side, a squeak hitting your ear as a shadow pulls your hand away.

Blind dates and nosey friends

Your hands tear the bread in half once again as you see the waitress heading straight toward you. An awkward smile is on her face as she approaches your table. 

“Miss, are you ready to order?” You sigh through your nose, shredding the roll in your hands. She is just doing her job, you don’t have to take your frustrations on this male out on your server. You start to ask for a menu, when out of the corner of your eye you see large wings you would know anywhere. The shadow that branches off from him, heading in a direct path to you, is the confirmation it was him. 

“One moment, please.” You don’t wait for her response before practically sprinting over, grabbing the shadowsinger’s arm before even thinking about it. He jerks his arm back, a scowl on his face before he realizes who it is. 

Azriel’s defensive stance slackens as he takes you in, his eyes lingering long enough on your dress that heat creeps up your chest. A few shadows start curling around your bare legs.

“What are you doing here, Az?” His eyes finally look back up at your face, something hidden deep in his gaze.

“I was supposed to meet someone, but they never showed.” Your stomach falls at his words, the hypocrisy impossible to ignore. He was supposed to be on a date? But they didn’t show up? 

You take the chance to look at him, his usual leathers exchanged for more formal wear. An all black tunic that shows a glimpse of his chest. It is a gorgeous fabric - a deep black with dark blue embroidery along the edges. His clothes are looser than his leathers, but they still show off his chiseled body.

You were a fool to not take in the back of the outfit when you had the chance earlier, certain he fills out the seat of his pants quite nicely.

Whoever didn’t show up for Azriel was a fool. Your jealousy at that fact is undeterred by remembering you are also supposed to be on a date right now.

“Same here.” Your date not showing up didn’t bother you too much. You were disappointed by how highly Feyre spoke of him, but you hadn’t been too thrilled to be going out anyway. 

“Are you hungry?” Azriel gives you a bewildered look, and you cross your arms feeling so exposed before him. You gesture to the table behind you, hoping Azriel will pick up the hint.

He just continues looking at you blankly.

“Would you like to have dinner with me? I have a table, and the waitress certainly thinks I made up having a guest to eat with.”

He looks down at your outfit once again, goosebumps trailing where his eyes land. Just because you hadn’t been thrilled to come didn’t mean you took picking out your outfit lightly.

“It would be an honor.” He follows you to your table, long legs making it to your chair before you do. He pulls your chair out, helping you sit before he takes his own seat.

“Who were you meeting tonight?” His voice is low, nearly a growl as he asks the question. Before you can answer, your waitress comes back, two menus in her arms. You thank her as she hands them to you both.

“A nice merlot, please.” Az holds up two gloved fingers to her, wanting the same. 

“Feyre wanted to set me up with some male from the Rainbow. Wouldn’t take no for an answer.” His eyebrows pinch together, a shadow curling his ear conspicuously before his face softens.

“And he didn’t show up?”

You shake your head, not wanting to voice the disappointment at being stood up. You weren’t giddy about the date, but it still stings of rejection.

“His loss.” Azriel is so sincere as he says it, his face opening in a way that only really happens when you’re alone with him. “Truly.”

You open your menu, unable to linger in his sincerity. “Maybe he was the great love of my life and now I’ll never have that.”

“I truly doubt that.”

The waitress comes back with two glasses of red wine and a fresh basket of breadsticks that she places between you two before heading off again.

“What are you doing here - who were you meeting?”

“Cassian’s been trying to get me to go out with him more. I got tired of waiting for him.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, he probably got caught up with Nesta and I’d rather not smell them in a public restaurant.” Azriel grimaces, and you remember him telling you last week about finding them on the training grounds and immediately turning around.

“So, did Feyre tell you anything about this guy?” You look up from your menu, a bit confused at him circling the conversation back to a male you’ve never met.

“Not really. Just said he’s good looking and a nice male.” You shrugged, reaching for a breadstick to tear apart, giving your hands something to do.

“She didn’t give you a name?”

You think for a moment, replaying the odd memory over again. How Feyre had come into the room, a crazed look about her as she asked if you had any plans this evening. Details of the restaurant reservation flying from her lips, getting a promise that you'd be there before she ran off again.

“No.” You pop some bread into your mouth, finally able to enjoy the softness of it now that you have Azriel looking at you instead of the waitress.

“Do you always go out with nameless males?”

You stop chewing and throw your balled up straw wrapper at him. A shadow catches it before it can hit his face, a smirk taking root, brightening his face. He looks so boyish, so smug. 

It was one of your favorite faces he wore.

The shadow throws the wad at Azriel’s face anyway, leaving him speechless at the defiance. You try to stifle your giggles, your hand hardly stopping the sound as you watch the shadows around him also appear to be laughing.

“It’s not funny.” Azriel tries to slip his face back into the cool neutrality he wears so well, but it’s nearly impossible as your giggles grow. You have to look away, the absurdity of the evening making you want to laugh harder.

A few fae turn their heads to look at the pair of you, quickly averting their gaze once they see who you were seated with. Your laughter dies down, and you know Azriel won’t let the topic die until you give him all the answers he desires.

“No. I hardly ever go out with males.” Azriel stops his teasing, his whole body going still as if movement could impair his hearing. Even his shadows stay still, watching and waiting over his shoulder. 

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I’ve only been out a handful of times the past few years, none of them were right.” It’s the truth. Each date felt like a chore, ill-fitting shoes that never quite gave you what you needed. Mor had he annual attempt at setting you up, but you were quite happy to have a quiet love life for the time being. You’re much happier spending your free time with your friends, on your work, or with Nyx than with random males to learn their favorite colors and what they did for a living.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Have you been seeing anyone?”

“No.” His reply is curt, clearly not wanting to further the discussion. His eyes are cold, the gold not shining how they usually do when he speaks to you.

“Okay.” You’re at a bit of a loss for what to say. Conversation between the two of you is usually so easy.

But the two of you never discuss your love lives with each other. How could you talk about some male to Azriel without saying well he’s not as kind or as attentive as you?

“Come on, Az. Take a breadstick. It won’t kill you.”

You shake the basket at him, trying to get him to splurge a little. His rigorous diet is well known amongst your friends, teasing comments accompanied most meals about Azriel’s strict dietary choices.

That’s all it is when you say it - a deflection, a joke to ease the slight awkwardness that accompanies your question. To your utter delight, he picks one up, taking small bites, savoring each taste. 

It’s nearly sinful how he eats it.

Once it’s gone, he pats around his chest, looking around the room.

“Look at that.”

“What?”

“I am still alive.”

“Oh shut up.”

“All these years, I thought bread would kill me.”

You roll your eyes at him, picking the menu up to finally look over what you want for dinner.

Who did this to you?

It’s easy to forget Mor is first and foremost a warrior. Her chosen wardrobe is curated to draw attention to her other assets, but her muscles still shine.

“Ow.” Mor’s hand is quick as she jostles your face, clutching your jaw tight. Her grip gives away her true strength - focusing all of it on your face. 

You pity anyone who comes in her way on a battlefield.

“Hold still.”

“I’m trying, you’re hurting me.”

“Shush. You’re fine.” 

A lone shadow creeps through the crack beneath the door, making its way over to you. It slinks through the shadows of the room, slithering from the shadow of the bed to the shadows beneath the dresser. 

You notice it halfway through its journey, but Mor remains ignorant. It moves up your leg, gently swirling your hand in comfort. It works almost instantly, the cool touch of it enough to distract you from Mor’s ministrations.

For a moment you almost forgot where you were.

“Ow!” It comes out louder than you intend, scaring off the shadow. The disappointment of losing your shadow friend took your mind off the pain momentarily before scowling at your friend again.

“Are you sure you don’t want Madja?”

“Yes.”

“Then stop complaining.”

You groan, unable to stop yourself despite Mor’s withering look. You suck in a breath through your teeth, nearly biting your tongue as she continues stitching your face.

“What are you doing?” You didn’t hear Azriel come in, didn’t hear a sound from him. But now he’s impossible to ignore. His shadows swarm you, their soft caresses welcome and wanted. They brush against any open skin they can, a few tickling against the open wound on your face. A few find the bruises littering your legs and hips, their cool caress not stinging like pressure would.

Mor merely rolls her eyes at him, annoyance flickering in her brown eyes as she looks to him. “I’m playing healer because I thought it would be fun, what does it look like I’m doing?”

Several of the shadows leave you, circling around Azriel’s ears conspiratorially. His wings flare out, almost casting a wall between you and the rest of the world. One of the shadows tries to swat Mor away, a huff of annoyance leaving her.

Azriel has been different ever since your dinner together. The two of you are spending more time together than ever - now you see him at most meals, he gives you his weekly schedule and warns you whenever he’ll be gone, and the two of you always slink off and spend the evenings together.

It’s been strange lately.

Despite the shadows whispers, his scowl only deepens. His eyes assess your face, scanning for every injury. Hazel eyes go straight to the bruise covered by your shirt, as if he can see beneath the fabric to the purple skin beneath. Azriel’s face tightens, disapproval clearly evident.

“What happened? Who did this to you?” His voice is deeper, some deep anger taking over his face.

Mor is quick to step in, to calm the shadows that are swirling around you, making it difficult for her to continue her stitching.

“Calm down, she fell down the stairs.” 

His breathing starts slowing again. Catching Mor’s eye, she tries not to laugh at the intense display. She even mouths his words back to you, an impish look on her face before she focuses again on your cheek, purposefully ignoring the Illyrian practically breathing down her neck.

You try to laugh but wince as she brings up the needle to your cheek, threading it through skin, slowly closing the wound. An intake of air gives away your true discomfort, no matter how hard you try to hide it.

“You’re being too harsh.” Mor groans at Azriel’s admonishment before reaching for his hand, gently handing over the needle to him before standing. She dusts off her dress before getting to her full height. Azriel bends down, trying to keep the needle from pulling too far, allowing Mor to slightly tower over him.

“If my stitching isn’t up to your standard, you may finish it.” She huffs, waiting for his response. Hands meet her hips waiting until he concedes, nodding silently. She’s quick to turn on her heel, muttering about overprotective males before shutting the door behind her.

“She should have taken you to Madja.” Azriel clicks his tongue as if Mor could hear his complaints through the wall. His shadows seem to nod in agreement poking out over his shoulder before making their way back to you. 

“I didn’t want to go to Madja.”

“Why not?” 

It took a moment to find the words, to vocalize it out loud. It was silly - your arms were full, trying to carry too much at once. Foolishly you thought the stairs were a few feet away, missing the top step and falling face down the stairs. 

You had hit the walls with each tumble, causing a loud enough raucous to startle Mor, who immediately helped you up and fussed over you.

“I was embarrassed.” Your arms cross over your chest, trying to hide into yourself. Azriel gently cups your face in his hand, bringing the threaded needle back up. You wince, shutting your eyes tight to avoid seeing it. 

Azriel was right - Mor had been a bit rough in her stitching, but not enough for you to say anything. 

His thumb gently strokes your cheek, the delicacy enough to have you slowly crack open an eye only to find him looking right back at you.

“Why were you embarrassed?” His voice is softer now, less amusement as he holds your gaze. His gaze is strong, impossible to turn or hide away from. 

Maybe that’s why you open up completely, the cowardly parts of you on full display.

“I didn’t want to bother Madja with something I got because I tripped over my own feet.” You watch his face, waiting for him to understand how silly this situation is and to drop it completely. To continue his stitching and leave you with a bruised ego.

That understanding never comes, his face nearly shriveling in confusion.

“I’ve watched Cassian go to Madja for paper cuts.” 

“Yes, but-“

“Do you think Cassian’s pain is more deserving of healing?” Azriel is quick to cut you off, his words fast to stop the shame spiral you were gearing up to begin. His gaze is hard and unflinching, pinning you in place. 

Truth-Teller isn’t a weapon, it’s a title you feel he deserves. One look from him unspooling all of your secrets.

“It’s different.” Your shoulders slump a bit, finding it hard to find the right words for how you feel. Embarrassing is the best one, but it still feels light. 

“How?”

“I’m not… fighting the good fight. I’m not a warrior.” A few shadows wrap around your shoulders in a comforting embrace, almost as if they are holding you up. “Cassian deserves to be babied a bit when he’s constantly throwing himself into danger.”

A more cross look overcomes his features, a hint of agitation lingering.

“I didn’t realize civilians didn’t have healers.”

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“Then tell me what you mean.”

“Madja has more important things than tending to my falling down the stairs.” 

“I think you’re right. She does have better things to do.” You blink. You’ve never heard Azriel concede in an argument so easily. You’ve watched him argue with Cassian until he was blue in the face just to win.

“But I don’t. So if you’re done…” he trails off, his hand that holds the needle going a bit higher to get into your eyeline. A reminder to both of you that he needs to finish the job Mor started.

You nod, accepting his kindness. The fight eases out of you, slowly leeching from your pores, unable to stand against the softness in his face. Your eyes close more gently this time, the weight of the shadows easing your nerves a bit.

“Just don’t tell me when you’re going to do it, please.”

“Okay, I won’t.” He rubs his thumb along the scar, not applying any pressure. You lean into his touch, unable to stop yourself. The stitch Mor made prickles a bit, but the two of you continue to sit there in a calming silence. Both of his hands now cradle your cheeks, his large palms so comforting you nearly muzzle into them. 

“Azriel, are you ever going to stitch up my face?”

“I’m already done.” 

Your eyes relax, blinking at him. You bring a hand up to your face, touching where the long gash was to find it stitched. 

“I guess that tonic Mor gave me did stop the feeling. Thanks, Az.”

One of his hands gently grabs yours, pulling it from your cheek. He holds it delicately in his own, his thumb swiping across the back of it.

“Stop messing with it. You’ll undo my hard work.” 

“It’s like picking at a scab.”

“Don’t do that either.”

Friends to lovers

A fire crackles in the library, casting a warm glow over the room. Of all the libraries in Night, none of them compare to the one nestled in the Townhouse. It’s smaller than the others, allowing for a more quaint and cozy feel.

The shelves are a bit haphazard, you and Azriel using it as a personal library most of the time. Most books continue notes in the margins from either or both of you - quick scrawl to dictate something for the other or something one of you enjoyed.

The Townhouse is where the two of you spend most of your time - the tighter quarters being enough space for the two of you.

The last few weeks were a blur of Azriel - spending most nights in each other’s beds, 

A blanket’s folded behind your head. You’re tempted to cover your legs with it, but you lean a bit closer into Azriel instead. You are practically draped against his lap, your torso half over his body, a book perched in your hands. He’s using your back as a rest for his book, one hand woven in your hair, the other one making circles in your lower back. 

His shadows flip his pages for him, allowing his hands to lazily wander on their own. It was so domestic and easy, each movement a thrill.

You’re trying to read your book, but if Azriel even asked what it was about you wouldn’t be able to answer. An earlier conversation with Cassian keeps replaying in your mind over and over again, each return to it an attempt to further your resolve.

“Going so soon?” Nesta had pouted, her gray eyes turning pitiful trying to get you to stay longer. “I’ve hardly seen you the past few weeks.”

You started to answer, telling her you hadn’t become that unavailable, when Cassian’s voice boomed through the living room.

“She has to get back to her boyfriend, Nes. He’ll be upset if she’s gone too long. He’ll get broody.”

You had scoffed, nearly jumping at his voice.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah? How do you know who I’m talking about? I didn’t say a name.” Cassian came into the room now, amusement on his face as he wiped his hands with a dish rag. 

“Shut up, Cass.”

“He’s not her boyfriend.” Nesta spoke up from the couch. 

“Thank you!”

“You just spend every minute with him, you reek of his scent, and you’re always considering what to do next for him.”

Cassian rounded the couch, plopping down next to Nesta.

“You're his girlfriend without the title.”

“Am not.”

“You sleep in his bed.”

“Not every night.”

Nesta and Cassian looked at each other before turning back to you, almost in unison saying, “or he sleeps in your bed.”

Heat began creeping up your neck, your emotions feeling so violated. You knew the two of you had been close, but was it really so obvious to Cassian of all people?

 “Fine, if you two aren’t dating, I’m sure you won’t mind in two years when Azriel’s dating someone else.”

The words clank through your mind like a dropped bell, the same notes hitting over and over again. Someone else.

“Az?” His name comes out as a whisper, your fear only half wanting him to hear you, the other half begging to be heard.

“Hmm?” He doesn’t look up, his attention still mostly on his book as he tries to finish the paragraph he’s reading.

“Are we dating?”

Azriel looks away from his book, looking down at you in his lap. Even his shadows drop the book onto your back, their attention moving toward their master’s response. He takes a moment, clearly thinking over your question, giving you his full attention. You turn slightly, angling your body to fully see him.

“I suppose we are.” He answers you so nonchalantly, as if this was a well known fact. You sit up now, taking the spot next to him, your book falling off the couch but you don’t care enough to even look at it. His book falls as well, a soft thump onto the carpet. 

“Are you… happy about it?” A million questions race through your mind, but that’s what comes out first. His hands had followed you as you moved, one of them still resting on your hip, lazily dragging his thumb in languid strokes.

“Delighted.” You take the moment to really look at Azriel, his face mere inches from your own. You hadn’t noticed the gradual change over the weeks, but sitting here now, it is impossible to ignore. His face is brighter, eye bags having shrunk to a regular size. He’s been smiling more, a few laugh lines making their ways onto his cheeks. 

Even his clothes are different - looser, more casual attire covered his body, his leathers getting worn only for training and official duties.

Azriel looks like Azriel. Not the spymaster, not the shadowsinger. Not a thing of legend.

But the male you love.

Your hand reaches out, softly cupping his jaw. Your other hand pushes some of his hair off his forehead, the soft curls bouncing back into place after the attempt to tame them. The smile on his face matches your own: full of possibility, love, and hope. A shadow glides across your lips before moving across your whole face, as if imprinting this moment to their memory.

“Are you going to kiss me?” Your mouth is splitting your face in two, too large to contain your smile to just your lips, it reaches the corners of your eyes.

“Once your questions end, I would like to.”

“Do you love me?”

“So much.” You feel how much he does in his gaze, in his hands, in his words. Everything about him - every interaction, every touch, every moment, it all led you here. You’re grateful for every moment of it as his hands gently pull your face to his, his lips warm and gentle as they meld into yours.

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

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[linoxpudding]

Morning Cuddles - Seo Changbin

*gif credit goes to owner*

summary: sunday morning at seo household, changbin is whipped for his girls

pairing: seo changbin x reader

genre: fluff, domestic, married couple

word count: 624 words

a/n: this writing was inspired by this request ♡ changbin is so husband *sighs dreamily*

-

more binnie cuddles: read here

morning cuddles series:

Chan Lee Know Hyunjin Jisung Felix Seungmin I.N

Masterlist

~°~

It’s one of those slow, perfect Sundays—the kind where there’s no rush to be anywhere, no alarms, just the peaceful comfort of being home.

You wake up to soft babbling sounds, the sweetest melody to your ears. Blinking the sleep away, you turn over to see your baby girl sitting up between you and Changbin, her tiny hands patting her daddy’s cheek repeatedly in an attempt to wake him.

“Dada,” she says in her sleepy little voice, pressing her chubby fingers into his face. “Dada, up.”

You chuckle, gently brushing a hand through her soft hair. “I don’t think Daddy’s ready to wake up yet, sweetheart.”

Changbin, however, cracks one eye open, groaning dramatically. “Dada is very tired,” he mumbles, reaching out to blindly pull both you and your daughter into his arms. “Dada needs five more minutes…”

Your daughter, however, has other plans. She wiggles her way onto his chest, squealing as she bounces a little. “Noooo, up!”

Changbin finally gives in, opening both eyes and smiling lazily. “Aish, how can I say no to my little princess?” He scoops her up and peppers kisses all over her chubby cheeks, making her giggle uncontrollably.

You watch them with pure adoration, propping yourself up on one elbow. “She’s got you wrapped around her tiny little finger, you know that?”

Changbin grins at you, reaching out to pull you closer. “Of course. Just like her mama does.” He presses a soft kiss to your lips before leaning his forehead against yours.

The three of you stay tangled in each other’s warmth, your daughter now snuggled between you, sucking on her tiny fingers as she slowly drifts back to sleep. Changbin gently rubs her back, his voice a quiet whisper. “She’s perfect.”

Changbin’s hand moves from your daughter to yours, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek before intertwining with yours. His grip is firm but gentle, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of your hand.

“You know…” he begins quietly, his voice thick with emotion, “I don’t think I say it enough, but… thank you.”

You blink at him, tilting your head slightly. “For what?”

His fingers tighten around yours just a little as he looks at you with nothing but pure adoration. “For being the mother of my child. For giving me our little girl. For… everything.”

Your heart swells at his words, warmth spreading through your chest like a soft embrace. You squeeze his hand back, your own eyes growing a little misty. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Binnie.”

“I do,” he insists gently, bringing your intertwined hands up to his lips to press a lingering kiss against your knuckles. “You’re amazing. She’s lucky to have you as her mom. And I’m lucky to have you as my wife.”

Tears threaten to prick at your eyes, but before you can say anything, your daughter's small fingers reach for your joined hands, clumsily placing her own on top as if she wants to be included.

Changbin chuckles softly. “See? She agrees.”

You laugh, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips before placing another on your daughter’s forehead. “I love you both so much,” you whisper, voice full of emotion.

Changbin tugs you in closer, wrapping an arm around you both as he buries his face into your hair. “And we love you,” he murmurs. “So, so much.”

You smile, resting your head against his shoulder. “We’re pretty lucky, huh?”

He hums in agreement, wrapping his arms around both of you protectively. “More than lucky. I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

The three of you stay like that—tangled together, hands intertwined, hearts beating as one. And in that moment, you know: This is happiness. This is home.

[mirohlayo]

F1 DRIVERS FALLING ASLEEP

ON YOUR LAPS

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

warning : none

─ OSCAR PIASTRI

this boy is not the most energetic man but sure he doesn't need to nap everyday. but when you're sitting comfortably on the couch, focus on your phone, and when he's feeling sleepy, your laps suddenly look like the comfiest pillow to sleep on. so oscar doesn't wait a second to literally throw himself over you, placing his head on your laps as he snuggles to you like a baby. and he always takes the best naps when he's sleeping like that.

─ LANDO NORRIS

this man love to take naps and just rest. so no need to worry about him when it comes to nap or sleep with you. he loves having you close to him whenever he's sleeping, and especially more when he uses your laps as his own pillow. he hides his face in your laps, and he delights in your soft touches and caresses. he can't help but smile to himself, as he's about to sleep. and he's always wake up by a sweet kiss from you, one of his favorite thing in the world.

─ CHARLES LECLERC

it's always when he feels extremely exhausted or a bit off that he absolutely needs a good nap with you in his arms. or more like with your presence. it's a not a want, it's a need, because he literally craves having you around him. without any words, he'll lie on your laps, carefully to not rushing you. his eyes close as he smells your fragrance which lulls him into a deep sleep. and his dreams are full of you, you, and you.

─ CARLOS SAINZ

maybe it's surprising sometimes, but now you're used to it. he'll randomly place you on the couch or the bed in order to sleep with you. without any reason or warning, he'll just take you by the hand and ask you if he can get some sleep with you. first, he would lay on your chest, but then he'd find a better spot on your laps. his arms are around you, his grip is tight because he doesn't want to let you go. you kiss him here and there, and that makes him feel so safe.

─ LEWIS HAMILTON

first, it always begins with cuddle sessions. hamilton has his head over your laps, as he enjoys your gentle touch and also gives you lazy kisses. but then you both grab your phone to scroll through social medias. and he can't help but get all sleepy, your body lifting up and down, your hand playing absentmindedly with his hair. he finally fall asleep sleep, your presence comforting him. then wraps his arms around your waist, just to feel you even closer to him.

─ GEORGE RUSSEL

he makes sure he gets his nap time with you everyday. it's his tradition, and perhaps one of his favorite things to do with you. your laps are his top 3 best spots to sleep on, so you're always tucked into george's embrace as his head rolls on your laps. he would peck them gently, but then finally fall asleep. but the cutest thing about it, is for sure the absolute silly smile he has when he feels you kiss his forehead in his sleep. and when he wakes up, he doesn't bother to attack you with lots of kisses.

─ MAX VERSTAPPEN

boy needs so much rest, and your body and especially your laps seem to be the perfect spots to get some sleep on. maybe he has an obsession for naps on your laps, but he always takes the best sleep of his life when he uses them as a pillow. sometimes he's so needy that he could stay for hours like that, your legs tucked under his head. he also has this habit of stroking your laps. but you can be sure that he'll try to get you some sleep too, allowing you to nap on his own laps.

─ DANIEL RICCIARDO

he doesn't take nap often, but whenever he needs one he'll always find you to sleep with him. patting the bed, he gives you the sign to come over him and let yourself relax in his embrace. but then the roles change, as you find daniel shifting to lay on your laps. you can see his eyes fluttering, his face getting sleepy. you'd call him some weird names to make fun of him for that and he'd chuckle, your laugh lull him. his hands absentmindedly search for you in his sleep, because he wants his girl close to him.

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 16.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content (somno, intense fingering, edging, overstimulation), soft!dom Dean, also some fluff sprinkled on top of it ♡ (Also! English is not my native language)

Summary: Dean loves to pleasure you when you’re still in your half-sleep state, still dozy and all his to play with and to take care of… and this time he coaxes you into taking a little more than usual.

Words: 2,520

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: I skipped the 15th Dec. prompt, since I felt like writing this one first. I'll post the 15th later some time! On another note; I've got a new theme! Made my own lil' banner and such. Hope you like it 😳 ANYWAY

♡ ENJOY THE torturous EDGING MY LITTLE VIXENS ♡

16th Dec. - Roll Over Rule

The sound of Dean’s serene breaths make you tiptoe your way around the bed, careful not to wake him from his deep sleep. It was late, 3AM by now. You’d done some late night research in the War room with Sam, losing track of time as you often did. And you’d basically forced Dean to go to bed a few hours ago since he had stayed up the past nights.

You slowly slip under the covers and still in your movement for a moment – listening for the slow rhythm of his breath. Good, he is still asleep. And he has occupied 3/4rd of the bed as always. Your face softens as your eyes take in his peaceful state; his face pressed into the pillow, his ruffled dark blond hair still a bit damp from the midnight shower. He’s on his stomach, his body twisted in a way that almost makes you wince inwardly. And his left arm stretched out to your bedside. Waiting for you to latch onto it, as it had become a silent habit of yours.

You gently grab his arm and snuggle up to him. Your arms wrap tightly around his muscled upper arm and his forearm gets tucked nicely between your thighs. Dean stirs briefly, mumbling something before he angles his head to rest it against the top of yours. You let out a soft, content sigh, relieved that you didn’t wake him from his dreamless sleep. Soon enough you fall asleep with your limbs entangled with his arm, feeling his comforting warmth and listening to his calming breaths of a slow steady rhythm.

You don’t know how much time has passed, maybe an hour or so, when you feel Dean’s arm slightly twist in your grip. Suddenly his hand slips between your legs to cradle you there with palms up. Your mind’s still too sleepy to fully register what’s going on when a little shiver goes straight to your core. A small, almost imperceptible one. But your body acts on instinct and doesn’t need your mind for what it subconsciously craves. You suddenly let go of his arm and roll over onto your stomach – a sleeping position you usually never take. Unless, it’s meant as a green light for Dean to go on.

Yeah, you had been pretty needy lately. ‘Damn, you’re like a bitch in heat, babe.’ As Dean had commented on it shamelessly. Which not only made you sputter, but had Sam choke on his beer and Cas raise his eyebrows in confusion, secretly wondering why Dean would compare you with a female dog.

Your mind quickly slips back into that cozy sleep – whereas Dean seems to have woken up beside you. He places soft kisses along your neck, his hand gently running up and down your body, occasionally slipping beneath your pyjamas.

Next moment you remember, you feel hot and aroused. Your inner thighs are wet, your clit swollen and you’re panting slightly. And then you feel his two fingers slip inside you, effortlessly parting your slick folds. A meek moan escapes your lips, your mind still somewhere caught between sleep and excited arousal.

“You good, sweetheart..?” you hear his gravel voice next to your ear. You nod, not wanting the pleasure to stop but too sleepy to form any words.

He picks up a tantalizing pace. His small and middle finger pumping inside your dripping wet cunt while his index and middle finger slide along your folds, pinching your clit between them with every thrust. Your moans grow louder and soon turn into needy whimpers, begging him for release.

“Mh? Tell me baby…” your answer once again is a weak, short whimper. A thick haze clouding your sleep-addled mind and ridding you of any capability to form a thought, let alone words. It’s like you’ve been turned into a whimpering, mewling mess – powerless in every form. At this moment you were his entirely. Completely at his mercy. And knowing Dean, you are left with no other option but to take the overwhelming pleasure and to teeter on that torturous edge. Over. And over. And over.

Dean is truly a master in the art of edging. His calloused fingers playing you like it’s child’s play, hitting every spot at the right moment and – to your frustration – changing rhythm and withdrawing them every single time right before you get to fall over the edge. Leaving you mewling desperately, close to tears from the overwhelming built up tension in your core. You cry and pant into the pillow breathless while he starts over with the procedure, denying you the final relief with a cheeky grin of his.

Soon a third finger is jammed into your throbbing cunt. Dean and you groan in harmony when your walls clamp his fingers, pulling them in like they were made for you. He bites back another deep moan before grazing his bottom lip with his teeth. "Damn... sweetheart, you're killin' me here..."

Once he rode you through another round of edging by switching between the numbers of fingers every now and then, you quickly adjust to the new size.

When Dean notices how his fingers slide in and out so effortlessly, an idea forms in his head. He suddenly presses his lips against the shell of your ear. His voice a husky whisper, gentle and yet demanding, “Show me how deep you want it.”

You don’t even think, your body acting on its own. It’s like he’s got you under some magic spell, the relentless working of his fingers keeping you spellbound. His hand stills while you buck your hips against his hand. Further and further up, angling it while you press your chest into the mattress – the increasing tightness making you whimper and bite down on the pillow.

But to Dean’s amazement, you keep pushing against him, taking it all the way. Even when he slowly slips a fourth finger inside. He bites back another guttural groan. The feeling of you clamping his fingers and now even slowly, tentatively rocking your hips against him is almost too much for him.

“That’s it…” he murmurs, a hint of pride in his voice which doesn’t go unnoticed by you, despite your mindless state. You roll your hips up against him and a loud groan erupts from your throat at the intense sensation of him splitting you apart.

Dean leans a bit back to relish the view with parted lips: He’s knuckles-deep inside you. His four thick fingers stretching you to the point you feel like you might explode. He’s completely filling you, his fingertips hitting your most sensitive spot at the very end.

He lets you set the pace, only occasionally curling his fingers as he draws sounds from you which can only be describe as borderline pornographic. Every whine and mewl are rewarded with a stronger flick of his thumb over your swollen clit. Your legs are shaking and you buckle from the increased friction, the pleasure doubled with a simple continues rub against your bud.

It doesn’t take long until your legs not only tremble but start to give in and fight the mattress for some form of control. Short erratic puffs of breath burst out of your mouth and a little dribble of saliva escapes the corner of your lips. The sight alone would’ve almost sent Dean, but the sounds you made – my God your sounds of pleasure were like heaven to him.

Desperate and overwhelmed, your body starts to act on its own again; your legs kick and squirm and writhe. Your hips suddenly jerk away and your fingers dig into the sheets enough to strangle a grown man.

Dean’s eyes widen briefly, leaning down with his weight to keep you still. “Shhh-Shhh,” he coos reassuringly, but with an almost mock-innocent undertone. As if that sly bastard didn’t know that you are on the brink of breaking.

He slings his leg around one of your kicking legs, effectively holding it in a deadlock as he presses it back into the mattress. “Ah-ah-ah,” he playfully warns you with a cocky smirk, “Stay here, sweetheart… ain’t done with ya yet…” He moves his free hand up to the back of your head where he carefully threads his fingers through your hair, taking a fist full to gently tug your head back and hold you in place.

A pleading whimper leaves your lips. Begging for relief, for him to finally allow you to fall over that damn edge. You try to voice your plea for mercy but any word that’s meant to leave your lips is smushed into another pathetic, strangled noise on its way out.

“Damn… can’t even talk any more can ya, gorgeous…” Dean chuckles deeply, his rumbling chest vibrating against your back as he keeps you pinned down under his weight. You can feel the muscles of his hard calf, tense and unyielding against your trapped leg. Your thigh straining against him in vain, twitching and trembling. Your toes claw at the sheets in a desperate attempt to break free from his grip, whimpering something which he recognises as a scrambled, frustrated “please”. But he doesn’t budge, his strength effortlessly keeping you at his mercy and leaving you no chance of escaping his onslaught.

He leans down to your ear, his voice dropping an octave when he asks teasingly, “You wanna cum? That it, baby? You want me to make ya cum?”

Yes, yes, yes yes yes – you keep repeating the word in your head until you realize that you’re only whining more. Dean chuckles, “That a yes? Hm? What was that?”

Oh Jesus Christ he’s enjoying this way too much. This time you nod – frantically. Not taking the risk of your answer getting lost again. Your sounds are hoarse by now, your body contorting from his four fingers slowly moving inside your cunt and his thumb working your clit every now and then – not enough to let the knot in your stomach burst, but enough to keep you on the brink of it. He falls into a tantalizing pace, sometimes shallow, sometimes so deep that it makes your half-lidded eyes roll back with a pained groan.

Dean meanwhile drinks in the sight of you squirming from the pleasure he can give you, all at his mercy, making sure to not give you a single moment of catching your breath.

“Oh yeah..?” Dean lets out a low hum. He pulls your ear lobe between his teeth and gives you a little tug at your hair. You’re shaking, even your whimpering sounds are clipped, breathless and trembling, your mind numb by now. Your body overstimulated and exhausted from chasing that sweet relief for what feels like hours.

“Jesus, you’re so vocal babe… you know how hard this gets me?” He groans against the side of your face and he grinds his rock hard erection against your hip to prove his statement. After a moment, he releases the grip on your hair and moves his hand down your neck, angling his shoulders to push his arm down between your shoulder blades to keep you from wiggling away. “You’re such a good girl for me…” he says while shifting his position on top of you, “And good girls get a reward…”

Fucking finally. A long shaky exhale escapes you when his weight presses down on you, his body covering you like a heavy blanket. He supports himself by leaning up on his right elbow, always making sure not to put too much pressure on you, but enough to let you feel his strength and the power over you.

His hot, ragged breath hits your ear once more. Whispering in that gravelly and authoritative tone of his, every word punctured by a deep thrust of his fingers, “’M gonna count down from ten… and when I hit zero... I want you to cum for me baby, understand?”

Lord have mercy. You nod again, although most of his words went past you and at this point you would have probably agreed to anything for that relief. With your brain melted into a useless puddle, you feel like you’re only driven by need and primal instincts by now.

And then, the next ten seconds feel like the most intense you have ever experienced. With every number you feel your knot tighten more, your core burning up as if it was to explode any second – but not yet, not yet —

“…seven…”

He moves his arm along your back to grab your left hand, holding it down. “…six...” His fingers intertwine with yours, while his other hand picks up its pace. “…five…” You’re suddenly arching your back, involuntarily trying to squirm away from him. But his firm chest keeps you safe beneath him, while his lips form the next number against your ear, “…four…”

Almost there. Your free knee slides along the mattress aimlessly and your other hand rips at the pillow, feeling like your body is about to snap into two. “…three…”

Determined to get you there, his calloused thumb flicks your overstimulated bud without mercy, earning himself another guttural whimper of yours, “-that’s it, let me hear ya …two…”

The sound of his low rumbling voice cuts right through your haze and a shudder shoots through your body. The anticipation’s almost killing you at this point, feeling coiled up like a spring.

“…one…” You can feel it, the wave building up and ready to crash down on you. Dean can sense you’re on the very edge too and he intends to send you over it this time. He gently bites down on your neck, muttering his final order against your skin, “…zero… cum for me, sunshine.” You go tense like a bowstring and your head snaps forward to bury your face in his elbow. When, at last, the wave hits your body and the knot in your stomach finally explodes with a strangled scream of relief. Several shudders of pleasure ripple through you, leaving you twist and turn, sandwiched between the mattress and Dean’s heavy body. He lets you ride out your high, his strong muscles working to hold you close to his chest.

You pant heavily, shakily. Your mind finally clearing. Your bleary eyes fully opening for the first time, like this was all just a dream too good to be true. His voice draws your attention to his face, when he gasps. “Jesus sweetheart… it’s like a swimmin’ pool down here.”

That comment takes you so much off guard, that you break out into a surprised laughter. He grins at you before he joins with his own hearty bark of amusement, a cocky grin on his face. “I ain’t kiddin’ – I’m growin’ fins!” He holds up his drenched hand, wrinkled skin, wiggling his cum-covered fingers in front of your eyes, “Look!”

He chuckles and his widened eyes take in the mess with something like fascination and an eager lick of his lips. The corners of his smile pull up into a lazy grin when his emerald eyes meet your satisfied and dozy, half-lidded ones again. “Y’know… I think ’m gonna need to clean up that mess down there.”

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke 10th Dec. - Barbie World 11th Dec. - Temptation ... (check the masterlist for more!)

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[loafysainz]

STOP STEALING | LN 4

lando norris!dad x fem!reader!mom

no warn

happy reading!!!

Lando Norris was a lot of things—an F1 driver, a McLaren superstar, a grown man who played way too much golf—but above all else, he was the clingiest husband on the planet.

Unfortunately for him, ever since they had two adorable little monsters named Noah and Leo, Lando had dropped from First Priority to Third Place in Y/N’s heart. And he was absolutely not okay with that.

So, as usual, the war between Father and Sons continued.

It started at breakfast.

Y/N was sitting at the dining table, feeding Leo tiny bites of his pancake while Noah sat beside them, swinging his little legs and rambling about the dinosaur book he was reading. Lando was right across from them, sulking dramatically, watching his wife and kids like a sad puppy.

Y/N, of course, didn’t even notice her husband’s suffering.

“Mamaaa, more pancakeee,” Leo mumbled, blinking up at her with big, sleepy eyes.

“Awww, my baby is still sleepy, huh?” Y/N cooed, ruffling his soft curls before bringing another bite to his mouth. “Here you go, bub.”

Lando gasped. Out loud.

“Oh? So he gets fed, but I don’t?”

Y/N finally looked up, raising an amused brow. “You have hands, babe.”

Lando placed a hand over his heart, looking absolutely wounded. “I can’t believe this. Betrayed by my own wife.”

Noah giggled, chewing on his pancake. “Daddy, you’re not a baby. You can eat by yourself.”

“But I wanna be a baby,” Lando shot back, pouting.

Noah made a face. “But you’re old.”

Lando dramatically clutched the air. “I’m Y/N’s baby, actually. Right, babe?”

Y/N snorted. “You were my baby. Then we had actual babies.”

Lando gasped again. “So that’s it, huh? Used and discarded. Thrown away like an old toy.” He wiped an imaginary tear.

Noah laughed, and Leo, still chewing, tilted his head. “Mamaaa, Daddy cryin’?”

Y/N leaned over and kissed Leo’s forehead. “No, bubba, he’s just being dramatic.”

Lando narrowed his eyes. “You love them more than me.”

Y/N smirked. “Obviously.”

“WHAT—”

“Daddy, share Mama,” Noah said, giggling.

Lando scowled playfully. “You share Mama.”

“Nooo, she’s my mama!” Noah argued, wrapping his little arms around Y/N’s waist protectively.

Leo, not understanding but wanting to be included, immediately clung to Y/N’s other side, glaring at his dad. “Mineee!”

Lando gaped at them. “EXCUSE ME. That’s MY wife.”

“OUR Mama,” Noah corrected.

“MY wife,” Lando argued.

“Mamaaa, tell Daddy stop,” Leo whined.

“Tell them to stop taking my wife!” Lando shot back, crossing his arms. “She was mine first!”

Y/N, now laughing, leaned into her giggling sons. “Sorry, babe. Looks like I’ve been stolen.”

Lando huffed, narrowing his eyes at his children. “You two little thieves.”

Noah stuck his tongue out. “Hmph! We win.”

Lando grumbled under his breath, stabbing his pancake with unnecessary aggression. “I’m calling the police.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “For what?”

“To report two tiny criminals who stole my wife.”

Noah and Leo giggled uncontrollably.

But Lando wasn’t done.

If they were going to steal Y/N, then he was going to steal her back.

***

Later that afternoon, Y/N was sitting on the couch with both Noah and Leo snuggled up beside her. Leo was sleepily sucking his thumb, curled up on her lap like a little kitten, while Noah rested his head against her shoulder, humming quietly as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Lando stood by the doorway, watching with pure, unfiltered jealousy.

No room for him. Again.

Enough was enough.

With a determined look, he marched over, squeezed himself onto the couch, and shoved Noah aside—gently, of course, but enough to make space.

“Daddy!” Noah whined.

“Shhh. I’m taking my wife back.”

Lando wrapped his arms around Y/N and dramatically buried his face in her shoulder. “I miss you.”

Y/N, amused, simply ran her fingers through his curls. “I was literally with you all morning.”

“Not enough.” Lando lifted his head, glaring at the two small humans beside her. “They hogged you.”

Noah pouted. “Mama is ours.”

“No, she’s MINE,” Lando corrected, tightening his grip around Y/N like an overgrown koala.

Leo, still sleepy, mumbled, “Daddy…no fight Mama…”

“I’m not fighting Mama, I’m fighting you two,” Lando muttered.

Y/N laughed, wrapping an arm around her overly clingy husband. “Aww, my poor baby.”

Lando peeked up. “Am I your baby again?”

“Always,” she assured, placing a kiss on his forehead.

Lando smirked victoriously at Noah. “Ha. Told you.”

Noah huffed. “Hmph. Mamaaa, don’t kiss him.”

“I’ll kiss Daddy if I want to,” Y/N teased, pressing another kiss to Lando’s cheek.

Lando grinned like a little kid. “Heard that, Noah? Mama wants to kiss me.”

Noah made a face. “EW.”

Leo, still sleepy but watching everything, suddenly declared, “Mama kiss Leo too.”

Y/N cooed, immediately showering kisses on Leo’s chubby cheeks. “Of course, my love.”

Leo giggled, satisfied.

Noah gasped. “ME TOO, MAMA.”

Y/N laughed and kissed Noah too, making him giggle and hide his face in her shirt.

Lando watched in horror. “Wait, what about me?!”

Y/N smirked. “You already got yours.”

Lando gasped dramatically. “But I need MORE.”

Noah smirked. “Daddy, you said we were stealing Mama, but you are the clingiest.”

Lando blinked.

Noah grinned.

Y/N burst into laughter.

Leo, still sleepy but wanting to participate, softly mumbled, “Daddy lose.”

Lando groaned, slumping against Y/N. “I hate it here.”

Y/N kissed his cheek again, making him perk up instantly. “Better?”

“Hmm. Maybe one more.”

Y/N laughed but obliged, pressing another soft kiss to his lips.

Noah and Leo groaned in unison. “EWWWW.”

Lando smirked at his sons. “Heh. MY wife.”

And with that, the war for Y/N’s attention continued.

Lando may have lost some battles, but he would never surrender.

END

[n6ptunova]

could you maybe do a matt sleepy fic?💕💕

a/n: this is so cute ty for the requestt bae i hope i did it justice!🫶🏼

warnings: none just fluff :)

lazy days were pretty common with matt. nick and chris always poked fun at you guys calling you “boring”, but you loved every moment with your boyfriend, including the quiet ones.

some days you put on a romcom, eat snacks and laugh, cry, cringe at various parts of the movies. other days you just enjoy each other’s presence, bodies melting into each other- not in a sexual way- just very intimate.

usually you’re the small spoon, resting your head on his chest, one leg swung over him while he gently plays with your hair. you guys even have this silly little game where he traces his fingers on your back and you have to decode the message he wrote. his cold hands dragging softly across your skin sends shivers down your spine, making it hard to focus on what he’s writing.

“come on, baby, guess,” he chuckles, the sound travelling straight to your ear as if it has healing abilities (it does). you made a random guess and he giggles again. “nopeee, try again, loser.” you’ve taken multiple guesses at this point, and none of them were correct.

“you’re so bad at this, oh my god,” he teased you as you lightly smack his bare chest and tell him it’s your turn to write something.

although matt will never admit it, sometimes, he loves being the small spoon. i mean, what could be better than nestling his head into your neck, his hair tickling your chin as you scratch all the way from his head to his back. he’s in literal heaven.

on days when matt just wants to sleep all day, you’re a necessity. he literally cannot fall asleep without being in your arms lulled by the sound of your heartbeat. it’s so sweet but if you need to grab a snack or go to the bathroom, his grip tightens around you as he faintly mumbles, “nooo, stay with me.”

“matt, i need to pee, i promise i’ll be done quick baby,” he sighs, “let’s just stay in bed all day i’m sleepy, please?” his tired voice tugged on your heartstrings, how could you say no to that? you agreed on his plan with the condition that he lets you pee.

once you were back, he hums in contentment as he snuggles into you again, kissing your cheek and neck while he assumes his previous position. “talk to me.” that’s another thing, he lovess falling asleep to your voice. good god was he whipped. you do as he asked, rambling on about your day until eventually you both fall asleep and hibernate for the rest of the day like cute little bears in the winter.

tags: @mattscoquette @et6rnalsun @sturnsxplr-25 @strlvvr @sturniluvr

[livvymd]

hey girll im literally obsessed with your writing so I was hoping if maybe (if you aren't busy and are taking requests 😭😭) could you do a fic with anyone of your choice where they mumble I love you while they're asleep next to the reader and the reader hears and brings it up the next morning?

omg wait i literally love this but i dont know who to pick... ill just do more than one person HELPP. im afraid i didnt cook with this one

Quiet Confessions.

INCLUDES; arthurtv, chrismcdonald, george clarke. (in like seperate story things btw)

CHRISMD;

It had been a long day of recording and laughing, and by the time you both got into bed, you were ready to just relax. The warmth of your shared flat surrounded you, with the dim light of the bedside lamp flickering gently. Chris had a way of making everything feel more comfortable, and tonight was no different. He pulled you close, his arm draped around you as he snuggled in, his steady breathing soon becoming the background noise of your thoughts.

You were just about to slip into sleep when you heard it—soft, low, and barely above a whisper.

“I love you.”

Your eyes widened, your heart skipping a beat. You turned your head slightly to look at Chris. He was still asleep, his face relaxed in the way it always was when he was dreaming. His breathing had remained even, completely unaware of the words he had just said.

You lay there, wide awake for a moment longer than you wanted to admit, letting the words sink in. It was so simple, yet hearing him say it in his sleep, completely unguarded, felt special in a way that made you smile.

You decided to let it go, figuring he wouldn't even remember in the morning. But the feeling lingered as you eventually drifted off, holding that sweet moment close.

The morning came, and the sunlight filtering through the curtains made the room feel warm and inviting. You were already awake, quietly watching Chris as he slept, his hair messy and his face calm. You couldn’t resist the smile that tugged at your lips, remembering what had happened the night before.

Chris began to stir, stretching out with a quiet groan as he woke up. His eyes fluttered open, and he turned his head to meet your gaze, giving you a sleepy smile. “Morning, love,” he said, his voice thick with sleep.

“Morning,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty well,” he mumbled, still half in dreamland. “You?”

“I slept alright,” you said, pausing just for a moment, letting the silence build. “Except I heard something interesting last night.”

Chris blinked at you, a sleepy frown forming. “What? What did I say?”

You smirked slightly, leaning closer. “You were talking in your sleep.”

His eyes widened slightly. “What? Seriously?”

You nodded, your grin spreading wider. “Yeah, you said ‘I love you.’”

Chris froze. His face turned a shade of red as he stared at you, clearly startled. “I... I did?”

You laughed softly at his reaction, loving how flustered he looked. “Yeah, you did. You know, I’m not complaining or anything... just wasn’t expecting to hear that while you were asleep.”

Chris ran a hand through his messy hair, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t—didn't mean to say it out loud, but...” He shrugged and gave you a cheeky grin. “Well, I do love you, you git.”

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I love you too, you doofus.”

He chuckled, the red in his cheeks fading as he pulled you into a tight hug. “Guess that’s one secret I can’t keep, huh?”

“Nope,” you teased. “And I’ll be holding it over your head from now on.”

“Good,” he whispered into your hair, his arms tightening around you. “Just don’t expect me to stop saying it anytime soon.”

GEORGE CLARKE;

It had been one of those long days where everything seemed to blend together, but the quiet, comfortable moments in your shared flat made it all worth it. You and George had been lounging on the couch, exchanging stories and laughter, until eventually, the exhaustion from the day caught up with both of you. By the time you finally found yourselves in bed, it was clear that both of you were ready to settle in for a peaceful night.

You lay on your side, your head resting against the pillow, while George snuggled up behind you, his arm draping over you, pulling you closer. His warmth surrounded you, the rhythmic sound of his breathing already starting to soothe your tired mind. There was something so peaceful about his presence, so natural, as if everything in the world just made sense when he was this close.

You felt yourself relaxing, your eyelids growing heavy as you snuggled deeper into his embrace. The comfort of his arms around you made sleep come easy, and you began to drift off.

But just as you were about to fall asleep, you felt George shift, his face pressing against your chest, his warm breath brushing against your skin. You smiled softly, about to drift away when you suddenly heard it—so quiet, so soft, it almost sounded like a dream.

“I love you.”

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. You carefully looked down at him, but George was completely out cold, his face buried in your chest, breathing evenly and unaware of the words he’d just whispered. His arm tightened around you as he subconsciously snuggled in closer, oblivious to the confession he had just mumbled in his sleep.

You felt warmth spread through you, a small smile tugging at your lips as you stayed still, savoring the moment. It was so simple, so honest, yet hearing him say it without any hesitation—without any walls up—made your chest feel light.

Eventually, sleep claimed you too, the memory of his whispered confession lingering in your mind.

Morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room. You were already awake, lying in George’s arms, watching him sleep peacefully. His hair was a bit messy, his face relaxed in that soft, innocent way he had when he was truly at rest. You couldn’t help but smile, remembering what had happened the night before.

George stirred a little, stretching with a groggy groan before slowly blinking his eyes open. His gaze met yours, and a sleepy smile tugged at his lips. “Morning, love,” he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Morning,” you replied, your tone light, though you couldn’t resist the teasing glint in your eyes. “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” he mumbled, still half out of it. “Pretty comfortable.” He yawned, snuggling closer to you. “You?”

“Not bad,” you said, giving him a little smile. “Though... I heard something interesting last night.”

His eyes blinked slowly, trying to focus. “Huh? What do you mean?”

You leaned in a little, your lips just brushing against his ear as you whispered, “You were talking in your sleep.”

George’s eyes widened, and his cheeks immediately turned a soft pink. “I... I was?”

You nodded, trying to keep your tone casual, though you couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah, you said ‘I love you.’”

George froze for a moment, then looked up at you, his face now a full shade of red. “Wait... what? I did?”

You smirked, the playful tease taking over. “Yeah, you did. It was really sweet... though I wasn’t expecting to hear it while you were asleep.”

He ran a hand through his messy hair, looking utterly flustered. “I didn’t... mean to say that out loud. I swear, I was asleep!”

You chuckled softly, the sound warm and affectionate. “It’s alright. It was nice to hear, even if you didn’t mean it. You’ve got a habit of being sweet when you're half asleep.”

George grinned sheepishly, shrugging slightly. “Well... I do love you, you know. Even when I’m awake.” He kissed your cheek, his grin turning into a mischievous smirk. “I just didn’t mean to let it slip when I was snoozing.”

You smiled, leaning in to peck him on the lips. “I love you too, you dork.”

He pulled you closer, burying his face in your hair as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. “Guess I’ve got no secrets left, huh?”

“Nope,” you teased, resting your head on his chest. “But I’ll hold this one over your head for a while.”

“Good,” he whispered into your hair, his arms tightening around you. “I like it when you’ve got leverage over me.”

ARTHUR TV;

The evening had been a perfect blend of relaxation and fun—after a long day of filming, the two of you had settled on the couch, talking about random things, laughing at inside jokes, and generally just enjoying each other’s company. You'd eventually migrated to bed, comfortable and tired, your body relaxing into the warmth of the blankets.

You lay on your back, arms stretched out, while Arthur, always the snugly one, had curled up against you. His head rested gently on your chest, right above your stomach, and you absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair as you both settled in. The soft rise and fall of his breath against your skin was calming, and soon, you felt your own eyelids growing heavier.

Just as you were drifting off to sleep, you heard it—his voice, quiet and muffled, almost as if he were speaking in his sleep.

“I love you…” The words were simple, but the way he said them felt so pure, so unguarded.

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. You looked down at him, but his face was relaxed, eyes closed, breathing still steady. He was completely unaware of what he'd just said. His head rested comfortably against you, and he shifted just slightly, snuggling in closer.

You smiled softly, your hand still resting on his head as you let out a quiet sigh. The intimacy of the moment felt so special—how easily he could express his feelings without realizing it. You knew Arthur was a sentimental person, but hearing it in this moment, without him even being conscious of it, made it even more meaningful.

A few moments passed, and you heard him again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you…”

It was almost like a soft reassurance, a gentle reminder of the love he held for you. His face nuzzled further into your chest as he unconsciously sought out more comfort, his arm tightening a little around your waist. It was a tender, innocent moment that you wanted to hold onto forever.

You let yourself fall into a peaceful sleep, the sound of his soft breaths and his whispered words echoing in your heart.

Morning came gently, with soft sunlight filtering through the window. You awoke before Arthur, watching him as he slept soundly on your chest, his hair a messy tangle from a night of cuddling. The smile on your lips grew as you remembered his sweet words from the night before.

He stirred after a few minutes, letting out a sleepy groan as he stretched, his arms reaching above his head. His eyes slowly opened, meeting yours with a half-awake gaze. A sleepy grin spread across his face as he whispered, “Morning…”

“Morning,” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual, though a playful grin tugged at your lips. “How’d you sleep?”

Arthur let out a lazy hum, his hand moving to rest against your waist. “I slept well. Really well, actually.” He smiled, his eyes still not fully open. “What about you?”

You hesitated for just a moment, your heart racing a little with excitement. “I slept fine. But you, on the other hand…”

Arthur blinked up at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “What do you mean? Did I snore or something?”

You chuckled softly, leaning down to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “No, not that... but you were talking in your sleep.”

His eyes widened in confusion, and he pulled himself up slightly, looking at you more attentively now. “Really? What did I say?”

You kept your tone light and teasing, not wanting to give him the full picture just yet. “You said ‘I love you’... twice.”

Arthur blinked, clearly caught off guard. His cheeks flushed with an adorable shade of pink, and he quickly looked away, running a hand through his messy hair. “I did? I... I didn’t even know I was saying that.”

You smiled at the sight of his embarrassed expression. “You did. It was pretty sweet, actually.”

Arthur chuckled nervously, his hands rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I mean… I do love you. Just didn’t think I’d say it while I was asleep.” He looked at you sheepishly, his eyes softening. “Guess I’m not very good at hiding it, am I?”

You couldn’t help but lean in to kiss him on the cheek, your heart full of warmth. “Nope, you’re not,” you teased. “But I’m not complaining.”

Arthur grinned, clearly relieved, and leaned in to kiss your lips softly. “Good. Because I love you, and I’m not afraid to say it—even if I say it in my sleep.”

You smiled against his lips, pulling him closer into a hug. “I love you too, you dork.”

Arthur’s arms wrapped around you tighter, holding you close as he mumbled, “I’m glad you know it.”

[myherofics]

— boobs, butts, or thighs? —

which body part of yours do the mha boys prefer?

« wc >800 »

« warnings: mildly suggestive, hickeys. »

« includes, izuku, katsuki, shoto, eijiro, denki, tenya, and hitoshi. »

izuku

-✨personality✨………ok. fine. he’s obsessed with your thighs.

-when you first start kissing more than just pecks, his hands just lightly brush your thighs, just in front of your knees.

-“i’m sorry. is this ok? 🥺”

-don’t be fooled by his innocent little eyes, he’ll be all over you, once he’s been with you a while.

-kneading your thighs with those ✨hands✨ of his awooga.

-imagine you’re sitting on the couch, there’s some movie playing, but you guys are just sucking face instead. now imagine he pulls you in by your thighs to straddle his lap…

-anyway.

-likes to nap on your thighs. sleepy boi 😴

-will kiss on them, but it’s very innocent honestly.

-when he’s all snuggled up on your legs, and lightly kisses the sides.

-accidentally left a hickey one time, and got so embarrassed.

-will leave more tho if you let him…

katsuki

-bum.

-but you already knew that.

-he’s definitely the type to have his hand in your back pocket when you’re out.

-pretends he hates it when he’s?? literally the one initiating it??

-careful, he pinches.

-going up stairs and he’s behind you? run.

-he’s honestly not that rough tho.

-pretends he is, but the most he does is little taps and squeezes.

-his hands always slide down to your butt while you’re making out.

-he doesn’t even mean to, it just happens.

-if you’re laying on your stomach scrolling through your phone or something, he’ll come lay on your bum, arms wrapped around your waist.

-“this ass is mine.”

shoto

-really likes your boobs actually.

-nuzzles into them. Catoroki™️

-doesn’t care how big they are, he just wants to bury his face there.

-will press soft kisses along your chest, while staring up at you with those entrancing eyes. 

-he’s not a possessive person, but if you’re wearing something particularly low cut, he’ll get a twinge of jealousy.

-“let’s just pull this up a bit shall we, dear.” he says as he pulls your top up a bit so it covers more.

-not too bad, he just wants to be the only one who gets to see you like that.

eijiro

-if you asked him, he really couldn’t choose.

-honestly, just really loves your whole body.

-his hands tend to stray to your boobs more tho.

-really likes when he’s holding you, and his chest is pressed against yours.

-there’s bite marks on your boobs.

-definitely.

-is really respectful too, despite being a nipper.

-“can i touch? i’ll be gentle i promise..”

-he kind of stares a lot…

-if you’re wearing something low cut he’s just 👁️👁️.

-profusely apologizes if you catch him, and point it out.

-“sorry baby, you’re just so beautiful i can’t help but look 🥺”

denki

-this may surprise some people, but he prefers your thighs.

-they’re just the most convenient to touch most of the time.

-he loves that he can touch your thighs in public, without looking too much like a perv.

-one hand on the wheel one hand on your thigh.

-he’s also a biter.

-giggling against your thighs as he nibbles on them.

-when you’re sitting on his lap, and his hands are gripping your thighs, he’ll let off little sparks (sometimes on accident, sometimes on purpose to make you jump).

-lightly taps on them when he’s bored.

tenya

-thinks it’s inappropriate to have a preference.

-it’s your boobs. and you can tell lol.

-he’ll spoon you and his Big™️ hand will trail to just under your boob, and he lightly, and innocently rubs his thumb over the base of it (please tell me you understand what i mean😭).

-does the same thing when he hugs you from behind.

-he seriously doesn’t notice he’s doing it til you point it out.

-“oh 😳 i won’t do it anymore, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

-please assure him that he’s allowed to touch your boobs whenever.

-will lightly touch them when you’re kissing, but he’s always gentle, and reserved with it.

hitoshi

-sleepy boi #2 likes your thighs.

-like todoroki he is Cat™️.

-nuzzles into them, and practically purrs as he finally falls asleep.

-the first time he falls asleep in your lap, you practically cry.

-while he’s asleep, he’ll subconsciously push his nose into the flesh with a teeny tiny itty bitty smile.

-will never admit it tho, and if you record it for proof, there’s not way you can manage to keep the video without him deleting it.

-like deku, he’ll manhandle you by your thighs a bit.

-let’s say you’re laying in bed on your phone, he’ll come up the edge, and grip your thighs, pulling you close to him with a smirk.

-“what are you doing in your phone when i’m here to entertain you?”

—————thank you—————

[elect1z]

..."Together in another universe"..

Megatron!Variants x Femme/Mech!Reader

Summary: Asking your beloved sparkmate a question..

Includes.. TFA, TFP, TFES

TFA!Megatron

Sounds of the keyboards clicking echo the base with Megatron's fingers pressing each key precisely at a fast pace. The others have gone to complete the task that Megatron has given to them, leaving you both alone in the Decepticon's base. Maybe he wanted some time alone with you because he didn't task you with anything. How sweet of him. It's too bad that he also has some work to do. Out of boredom, you hugged his sides while he was typing, making him flinch at the sudden touch, but he quickly relaxed his body. You snuggled his body after a few minutes before you asked a question that had been in your mind for a while. "Megs..?" "Yes, my dear?" he answered, his eyes still focused on the screen. "Do you think we're together in every universe..?" Then, he stopped typing and looked at you with concerned eyes. "Is there something wrong?" His voice is filled with concern, and yet his face stays calm. "N-No, no, Nothing's wrong, it's just.. been stuck in my head for a while.." He just stood there, looking at the screen, thinking about the question. After a while, he finally answered. "Well, I can't think of another universe where I'm not with my beloved [Y/N]. So, I believe we are together in every universe." And with that, he leaned in and gave you a light kiss.

TFP!Megatron

It was late at night at the Autobots' base. The children were away at home, and the bots were in their own hab suite, recharging. You are the only one who is still awake, trying to sneak out of the base. Ratchet was still up doing his work; he was so focused that he didn't even realize you were there, too sleepy to notice. Then you try to quietly open the door and drive away from the base. You drove to the location that you had asked him to meet, it was quite far, but far enough from the base and the ship. After you arrive at the location, you see the warlord himself sitting on the sandy hills, waiting for you. You waved and sat beside him, smiling at each other. You guys talk for a few minutes before you ask him a question. "Hey! Do you think we're together in every universe?" Megatron looked at you with a confused look, seeing this, you quickly reassure him. "I-I'm just curious! Plus, it's been in my mind for a while." He chuckled and thought for a minute, staring at the night sky. You just sit there awkwardly as he answers your question. "I believe that we are bound to be together, that primus has sealed our fate. So, my dear sparkmate.. we are, and it pains me to see a universe without you." You held your face, which was heating up. It was sweet, indeed. But you both couldn't see what's coming in the future...

TFES!Megatron

In the forest, there was a particular mech who was sitting at the edge of a cliff with a blue flower in his hand as he watched Witwicky under the moonlight. You came and sat beside him, smiling dearly. He looked at you with a smile that quickly turned into a frown as he stared at the flower. Your see-through body reflected the light of the moon, looking up at the moon, as you admire its beauty. Then you ask him a question you've been trying to ask: "Do you think we're together in every universe?" You asked with a soft smile while your transparent hand held his. He looked at you for a while and then back at the scenery and the flower in his hand. After a minute, he finally answered. "..I sure hope not...If I can't keep you safe from myself, then how am I supposed to believe my alternate self would do better..?" He stared at the flower longingly in his hand, and the flower emitted a soft light on its petals. You looked at him with a sad expression, and hugged him from his sides. Your transparent body feels odd against his; your body is cold, but somehow he could feel the warmth from you hugging him. A tear was shed, as he remembered the times when you both were together and happy... Before.. before the incident.. As you were consoling him, you spoke softly. "It wasn't your fault.." And the night lasted until the sun rose.

A/N: Sorry for the mediocre writing. I'm still learning :(

[slytherinshua]

NIGHTS WITH YOU

genre. fluff. warnings. food (ramen). pairing. soobin x fem!reader. wc. 700. request. requested by @blue-jisungs (my baby) for #25: "are those my clothes" and #34: "where's my goodnight kiss?" a/n. i've been writing just so much sleepy fluff either sleepy morning fluff or sleepy bedtime fluff im not complaining cause its always so soft but yeah :(

Soobin stepped out of the bathroom, still drying his hair with a towel. His eyes immediately scoured around the room for you, and when he didn’t find you anywhere, a frown etched on his face. Since he had been at practice all day, you forced him to take a shower before delivering any hugs or kisses, despite how much he begged for them. It was a reasonable request, of course. He was sweaty and stinky— of course you’d rather kiss a clean Soobin. But your boyfriend hadn’t seen you all day and simply needed to be as close to you as possible for the rest of the night. 

He located you quickly, following the smell of spicy noodles to the kitchen. His eyes softened as he saw your figure, wearing one of his black t-shirts.  He pouted, coming up behind you to hold you in a back hug. 

“Are those my clothes?” He asked softly, a giddy smile growing on his face as soon as you laughed.

“You left your drawer open. They were practically asking for me to take them. Plus, they’re more comfortable than my pyjamas.” You said simply, stirring the sauce packet into the pot of ramen noodles you were preparing. 

Although Soobin’s shirts were much too big for you to wear daily, they made for the perfect oversized sleeping garment. As they were designed to fit your 6 foot man both height wise and broad back wise, they practically swallowed your figure. But you loved it, especially the way the shirts smelled exactly like your boyfriend. Soobin didn’t mind. How could he when you looked so cute in his clothes?

“We already share everything anyway. Including that ramen—?“

“No! You’re not getting any!” You shoved your boyfriend off of your back, defensively shielding the ramen pot from his prying hands. He frowned, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to find a way through, but each reach he took got expertly blocked by your chopsticks.

“That is not one bite. That’s like, 6 at least!” You slouched back onto Soobin’s chest, keeping up your pretend grumpiness after you had finally agreed to give him just one bite. Truthfully, you had prepared the ramen more for him than you in the first place. You just wanted to see him eat well after practice. But it was always fun to tease him. Admitting that you carefully prepared them for your boyfriend would make you look unbelievably whipped. Which you were, but you weren’t about to admit it out in the open.

“Here, open up.” Soobin said, holding the chopsticks up for you, feeding you the bite of ramen carefully. Maybe he was just as equally whipped. You whipped your frown off your face and snuggled closer to your boyfriend, enveloped by his fresh scent and warm skin. 

“I can’t believe Beomgyu got to see you more this week than me. It’s not fair.” You sighed, thinking back to the past couple of days. Even when Soobin didn't have a schedule, he’d busied himself in the company building with Beomgyu, playing games or writing lyrics. 

You had nothing against the younger member, you were as close to him as you were any of Soobin’s friends. But nothing hit you quite as hard as the loneliness you felt when Soobin was away from you. It felt nice to be back in his arms, knowing that there was nothing left for that day that would prevent you from falling asleep and waking up next to him. 

“Where’s my goodnight kiss?” Soobin asked once you were back in his arms after doing the dishes. 

“Right here.” You smiled, cupping his cheeks to bring his face down to your lips. As always, Soobin’s lips tasted heavenly. And, just like always, Soobin was the clingier of you two. He chased your lips every time you pulled away, causing you both to giggle. Countless soft pecks were placed around your face until his head hit the pillow and he gathered you up in his arms, close enough to hear his relaxed breath and steady heart beat. The rhythm lulled you to sleep, head resting against his chest and your back blanketed by his arms.

↳ txt taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @90steele,, @ddeonudepressions,, @minholing,,

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@amara-mars,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,, @heavenfilm,,

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[mwahbabe]

chloe with a sleepy!gf<3

pairing: chloe price x fem reader

mdni, fluff, slight nsfw, chloe’s a sweetie<3

☁️ you’re both sleepy gfs.

☁️ chloe is always down for a nap. this girl loves her sleep especially after a smoke sesh. and after she’s fucked you silly

☁️ both of you call each other and ask if you can come over and sleep.

☁️ CUDDLES CUDDLES CUDDLES

☁️ she’s both terrible and amazing to sleep with. Will roll over you and smother you, trapping you in her arms like a teddy bear. You’ll never be cold with her.

☁️ will always complain about how you stole all the blankets.

☁️ usually always the big spoon. likes having you close to her at all times, it makes her feel comforted and safe. your scent and the way your body feels against hers.

☁️ the type of girl to drape her leg over your hip.

☁️ invites you over to nap with her.

☁️ likes to feel wanted when you’re cuddling her especially if you’re suffuciantly shorter than her

☁️ loves when you fall asleep in her arms.

☁️ doesn’t mind at all when you fall asleep on her. likes to feel wanted. chloe loves when you fall asleep in her arms, when you two are watching tv, or she’s rolling up or driving, your face pressed against her shoulder and your body against hers, makes her all the more protective of you, seeing you in that vulnerable state.

☁️ never ever gets mad when you don’t reply to her messages or calls, since.. well she’s definitely not replying to yours either for the same reason. Both of you sleep through each others calls or texts.

☁️ will take pictures or selfies of you two while you’re napping.

☁️ both of you love your sleep ins, you’ll never have to worry about her waking you up when you don’t have work/school since she will pull you in and want snuggles until she decides you can get up.

☁️ getting up to pee with her is a pain in the ass, since her clingy ass always has to have you in arms reach.

☁️ If you wear a bonnet to sleep she loves pressing her face up against the back of your head against the silk fabric, a lot of times she drools on it in her sleep, gross.

☁️ will also plant little kisses on your exposed neck and shoulders, she has a thing for necks and seeing your neck and or shoulders exposed like that, no hair in the way for kisses or bites.

☁️ loves to rest her hand on your titties, its comforting according to her.

☁️ acts of service from her include rubbing your back softly or playing with your hair as you’re falling asleep.

☁️ both hers and your sheets and blankets are always messed up, especially with the way chloe tosses and turns in the night.

☁️ you two always get breakfast no matter how late yall wake up.

☁️ “we’re sleeping in right?” “yup”

☁️ always teases you if she wakes up first and sees your top is twisted round or if your mouth was open during your sleep.

☁️ sleeping next to you helps ease her nightmares.

☁️ overall her favourite activity is cuddling and napping with you.