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whumpbug · 14 days

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Hello, bug! It’s so nice to see you posting your writing again! :)

Just a tiny prompt for your boys: feverish shivering! Imagine unusually pale and miserable Archie wrapping himself in two blankets… And maybe Simon soothing him…

Sincerely yours, anon with whumperflies :)

anon!! hello!! i was hoping to see you in my ask box! i loved this request and i initially wasn’t planning on adding delirium and all the other stuff but… well, it just kind of happened.

also, i am so sorry that i haven’t gotten to your other requests!! but i was thinking of adapting one of them to the boys as well if you’d be interested in that! either way, here is your fic! i made sure to prioritize it to make up for my absence (-｡-;)

to anyone else: see this post for character info!

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Archie was freezing to death.

He was sure of it. There was no other explanation. He had two thick blankets wrapped around him tightly, and he still felt like he was braving a storm in the dead of winter. Every muscle in his body was shaking with bitter cold.

How did he even end up like this.

He had gone to bed with nothing more than a sore throat and a slight headache, hoping a good night’s sleep would fix it. Evidently, it didn’t, and he woke up with ice coursing throughout his entire body. It was utterly unbearable.

He deliberated his options.

He could either drag himself out of bed and get himself showered, medicated, and fed. He could do all the “responsible” things people do when they’re dying of the plague. It would be the smarter option, for sure.

Or he could stay right where he was, in his cocoon of bedding, and avoid letting his fevered skin touch the air at all costs.

It wasn’t a very hard decision.

He buried his face into the blankets as his body gave a harsh shiver. It was the kind of cold that came from the inside. He felt as if his body was purging every ounce of heat it worked so hard to create.

He just wanted to feel warm. He was solemnly reminiscing about every time he’d eve felt warm in his life.

There was that time he went to the beach as a child, and happily splashed around in the ocean until he was ready to lay on the sand and let the sun dry him.

There was also the time he went to the county fair with his highschool friends. Sure, the heat beaming down on them had been rather annoying at the time, but Archie would give anything to go back for even just a second.

And of course, there was the most recent time.

A few weeks ago, Archie was in Simon’s apartment getting patched up when a snow storm hit. Simon told him there was no way he was making it back to his own apartment in this weather, and that he’d have to stay there for the night.

The two spent the entire night binging movies and eating snacks and making hot chocolate and enjoying eachother’s company and—

Well, maybe that was a different type of warmth.

Still, the thought of it made Archie ache.

Simon would know just what to do, wouldn’t he? He was in school for this type of stuff after all. He’d probably make Archie methodically list his symptoms and then usher him back to bed with the demand of upping his fluid intake and resting as much as possible. He was practical like that.

But he’d also help him in other ways.

He’d check Archie’s temperature with a gentle hand, smoothing his hair back as he did. Simon always complained that thermometers were more accurate, but he often ended up using his hand anyways.

He’d tuck an extra blanket around Archie’s shoulders and rub up and down his back, trying to soothe the fever aches and simultaneously coax warmth into him.

He’d check on him every hour or so with a fresh cup of tea or hot cocoa, and ask if Archie needed anything at all.

No, Simon did much more than diagnosing and treating. He cared. Something that Archie found was hard to come by.

He must have been more out of it than he originally thought, because he failed to notice that he started crying. A tear splattered on his pillow, and suddenly it was all just too much. He was achy and shivery and weak and tired and he just wanted someone. He wanted Simon.

He pulled out his phone, which induced another round of bodily shivers as he exposed his arm to the icy air. He flipped to Simon’s contact and began a text, but he found he couldn’t focus on the letters. He more he stared at the screen, the more his head ached and his dizziness increased tenfold. He ended typing:

“am dying. pl semd help”

And sent it.

Archie let his eyes flutter close as his phone clattered to the floor. He was so exhausted. He just wanted sleep to claim him. He was done being awake.

Finally, the blissful pull of unconsciousness dragged him down, down into nothingness.

••

Archie didn’t remember much of what came after that.

The first thing he realized is that when he woke up next, he was even colder, if that was even possible. He couldn’t move. Everything hurt.

The second thing he noticed, was that he wasn’t alone.

There was a figure beside him, working on something at his beside table. He vaguely noted that he should probably be a bit more worried than he was. He could be getting robbed or kidnapped by some intruder, and here was, laying in his blanket burrito, doing absolutely nothing about it.

“You’re not getting robbed, you idiot,” The figure said.

Shoot, was he thinking out loud? Or maybe the figure could read minds. That had to be it, right? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. After all, he got super powers from a chemical spill.

Gosh, he remembers those chemicals being cold on his skin. Or maybe he was just thinking about how cold he was right now. He was really cold.

“You’re not really cold. You’re the opposite, actually. I could fry an egg on your head, Archie..” The voice chuckled, sounding a bit.. amused?

Archie had half a mind to feel indignant at this. This most certainly was not amusing. He was really dying over here, how dare the voice laugh at him!

“Relax, you’re not dying.. not while I’m here, anyways. You’re just out of it. I'm not surprised. Your brain is practically cooking in your skull.”

Ew. Archie recalled an article he read about a man contracting mad cow disease from eating beef brain. He didn’t want anyone to cook his brain and eat it. That didn’t sound fun. Maybe that’s why the intruder was here! To take his brain!

“Ookay, that’s enough out of you," the intruder hummed. "You are making even less sense than before, and I didn’t know that was possible. Let’s get you drugged up and then to sleep, okay?”

The next thing he knew, there was a spoon with sticky, bitter liquid being pressed against his lips and into his mouth. He sputtered at the taste, but eventually choked it down. Gross.

“Alright, there we go. You’ll start feeling better in a little bit..” The figure said, smoothing a warm hand over Archie’s hair. “Just try to knock out for now.”

As much as wanted to refuse, and stay awake as long as he could to prove a point, the hand through his hair felt really nice, Not to mention that somewhere in his hazy telepathic conversation with the robber-intruder-brain-eater, another three blankets were placed on top of him and tightly tucked around his shivering form. He hated to admit it, but he was finally beginning to feel thawed out.

Archie was out before he could even finish thinking about what to say next.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

#this was a BLAST to write #i feel like i unconciously tend to wrote from caretaker's POV #so this was a welcome switch up #delirious whumpee my beloved #simon is unbelieveably patient #whump #whump prompt #prompt fill #whump community #whumpblr #fever whump #delirium #simon and archie

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mikalara-dracula · 11 months

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Could you do "🌙" for Azusa? I love your blog very much!💖💖

🌙 Nights/staying up late with Azusa—

Warning: 18+ content below; don't read if you're a minor and aren't comfortable with slight NSFW. This is a fictional work and should not be taken seriously.

Caution: Unfortunately, Tumblr has a history of admins quarreling over completing carbon copy asks due to users sending the same request(s) to multiple admins, thus, resulting in unintentional plagiarism. With this, please DO NOT send the same request to multiple blogs as it can cause unintended plagiarism discord to other blogs across Tumblr. The word “plagiarism” stems from the early 17th-century Latin word, “plagiarius,” meaning “kidnapper.” So please, do not send in the same request to multiple blogs and make admins appear to be “kidnapping” other people’s work when it isn’t their intention. If this is to occur with any of my posts, please contact me so we can work something out.

Hi there, Anon!

Thank you so much for requesting! I'm very sorry about the wait! I hope you enjoy reading it. Feel free to request again anytime! :)

🌙 Staying up late with Azusa is special, mostly because he’s sweet and good cuddler.

🌙 Most of the time, he honestly doesn’t know what to do, so he leaves it up to you when it comes to activities.

🌙 He’s open to anything really. It just doesn’t matter to him.

🌙 Likes cuddling on the couch you talking about whatever.

🌙 If you both want to watch a movie, he lets you pick it out and doesn’t care what genre it is.

🌙 Will put a blanket over you while you watch the movie and lay his head in your neck, scarcely placing kisses here and there on your neck and shoulders.

🌙 Likes to interlock his legs with yours and hold you close against him.

🌙 Will tell you he’s cold so he has the excuse to cuddle closer and more intimately.

🌙 If it’s a horror movie, Azusa likes to hold you close and hugs you tighter when you have a jump scare.

🌙 And unlike his brothers, he’s NOT going to be an ass and tease you about it, instead he reassures you and reminds you that it’s just a movie.

🌙 And if you’re really shaken up, he’ll place a small kiss on your forehead to calm you down.

🌙 This man, I-

🌙 Also likes to play with your hair while you watch the movie.

🌙 One time, you were so soaked in by the movie that when it was over, you were shocked to have found your braided in a French braid style.

🌙 “Oh my gosh, Azusa! It’s so pretty!” You’d say, holding it in your hands as you looked at it. “I didn’t know you could braid.”

🌙 He smiled, adding on, “I . . . didn’t know . . . either . . . . I was . . . . just experimenting.”

🌙 You’d be shocked finding out a hidden talent of Azusa that not even he was aware of.

🌙 Likes making you hot cocoa when staying up late.

🌙 And if you make it with him, he’s all for it since he finds cooking with you to be romantic.

🌙 But rest assured, he will tell his brothers, more specifically Kou, to leave if they’re bothering your quality time together.

🌙 One time when you two were making hot cocoa, Kou waltzed in uninvited, and of course, had to intervene.

🌙 And to make matters worse, he just grabbed your mug of cocoa that was ready and was about to take off with it.

🌙 Azusa couldn’t stand for this, and instantly spoke about it. “Kou . . . that coco was for, Y/N.”

🌙 “Aw, my bad.” Kou replied in a mocking tone.

🌙 “Give it . . . back.” Azusa asked, his calm tone the same as usual.

🌙 This man’s patience, I swear-

🌙 Kou would sigh, finding this argument with Azusa to not be amusing as his arguments casually were with Yuma.

🌙 “Fine.” He’d say, putting the cup back and soon departing the kitchen.

🌙 Azusa smiled, grabbing the cup and putting it on the tray to take into the living room.

🌙 “Let’s go . . . Eve.” He’d say, guiding you to the living room to enjoy it together.

🌙 Likes to read books Ruki has recommended to him with you.

🌙 He likes taking turns while you read. For example, you’ll read one page and then he’ll read the next one and you two just alternate from there.

🌙 He loves it if while you read you fall asleep on his shoulder. He’d smile inside and out and lay a small kiss on your forehead before pulling you close and dosing off as well.

🌙 “Sweet dreams . . . Eve.”

🌙 Likes taking walks with you in Yuma’s garden and laying on a blanket under the stars, exchanging kisses and subtle intimate touch where no one sees.

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers headcanons #azusa mukami #mukami azusa #diabolik lovers azusa #anime #anime requests #anime headcanons #diaboys #dialovers #diahell #diabolik brothers

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oddberryshortcake · 2 years

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BIRTHDAY WISH ASK; BLORBO! (use this anon as an excuse to ramble about the current character you wanna are covering in blankets and giving all the cups hot cocoa and maybe are putting them through a hella 'mount of angst in a variety of WIPS lol)

Okay okay, none of ya'll know the extent of the writing I've been making behind the scenes! I still try to write everyday even while being so busy, and I have a ton of hoarded fics on me.

Since I know there's a lot of IZ people here, ya'll know my views of Tallest Red. He's not so much a blorbo than he is a scrunkly. Absolutely horrible creature that can fit so much depth and angst into him.

If we talkin' wips, there's a Catalyst fic I have strong affection for. Catalyst is essentially a character exploration, both Red and Oz Ama pull a lot out of each other through their discussions and tension.

I liked delving deep into the Tallest, specifically Red's, perspective of the Florpus and how it could be something horrifying-

Idk when I'll post this, but here's an excerpt!

And as it seems there's a trend in me getting attached to characters with self-destructive tendencies, lemme tell you about a certain blorbo named Jamil Viper-

Twisted Wonderland, I promise it's actually good.

Chapter 4 just hits different (I say as it's the first chapter I ever saw that got me into the game)

Jamil's story is incredibly harrowing, genuinely one of the hardest backstories to learn (though I'm sure when the eng server finally gets Idia that will hurt WORSE knowing what already happened)

I absolutely love how messed up this lil guy is. I would save him but I'd also punch him too. I could go into it, but if there's a chance someone here want's to pick up this game I don't want to ruin the experience either.

Very Tallest Red vibes, though I'll say it, Tallest Red is definitely a worse person who deserves to be punched way more

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 2 years

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If you receive this, you make somebody happy! Go on anon and send this to ten of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up. If you get one back, even better!

Thank you so so so much flamelets!! 😭❤️🔥 I would like to give all of you a very big hug, offer you a cup of hot cocoa and cuddle with you under a blanket by the fire place.

Yes. I would

I hope that you're having a lovely day, and that you'll have a relaxing weekend 🥺❤️😁

#spreading positivity #anon flamelets

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buttercupbuck · 3 years

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hey, do you have any soft or comforting buddie thoughts? i feel so fucking sad today because of my friends that idk what to do with myself

these are super random but i hope they help at least a little

pre-them figuring their shit out, buck coming over to the diaz home sometime in december to find a stocking with his name hung besides eddie's and christopher's

eddie curling up next to buck as buck reads beside him in bed, one hand holding his book and the other carding through eddie's hair. on nights eddie can't sleep buck will just read whatever he's fixated on aloud and it always helps

buck kissing the freckle under eddie's eye and eddie kissing buck's birthmark

buck lording their 2 inch height difference over eddie's head all the time and just being absolutely insufferable about it

eddie baking buck's favorite cake for his birthday and buck grinning and wolfing it down despite it tasting pretty close to awful (a baker eddie is not). it's salty and lumpy but buck loves it anyway

#im also wrapping you in blankets and giving you a cup of hot cocoa btw #i really hope your day gets better anon #ask #anon #buddie

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mxaizupublishionhouse · 3 years

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Can I request Childe x reader that Childe has go to mission and he is go for month. So, reader miss him so much. When Childe go home, He found them cry because they really miss him. Maybe Hurt/Comfort. 👉👈💦💦

Warm Home

Words count : 886 words

Character : Childe / Tartaglia

Theme : Angst w/ comfort

Note : I really want to put the feeling of loneliness in this one!Hope you like it, anon! 🌨

Even after so long being in relationship with the 11th Harbinger man, you secretly still feel empty and not wanting him to go doing his task as a Fatui in faraway land. You believe in his strength and as a lover, you will always cheer even for the shaddy works he is doing under the command of Lady Tsaritsa. But, the ink of the pen that you used to write letters back to him is not able to describe your loneliness whenever he’s gone for a month or so. The outside world is dangerous and you know it. Even the pure white snow in the endless winter of Snezhnaya is always ready to freeze anyone unprepared to their last breath. But, you can't stop him with your strength alone just for your selfish self of wanting him to stay by your side.

Few weeks ago.That was the last time you saw his face and deep ocean blue eyes that held love dearly to you. He informed you that he will go for a month-long mission in another region to investigate certain works. You want to voice your uneasy feelings but this was the millionth time he told you about missions that require longer time periods in far places where you can travel with your own two legs, and in the end, he still came back safe and sound into your arms. But, you still can't get comfortable with his presence gone from your side and him being so far away, making the fear for the worst make you feeling cold and hollow.

The house that you both shared feeling empty and greyish without his comforting presence. You remember his teasing words that bring a smile to your face and how your poor cheeks hurt from him pinching with excuses of you being ‘too cute’ and ‘I love you so much’. The habit of lifting you up in bridal style with his strong arms never failed to give the same butterflies into your stomach, even after months. His lingering scent is stilll there, accompanying you gently like a warm blanket.

The breakfast tasted bland in your tongue as you sat alone at the dining table. You sipped the tea from Liyue that Childe brought home before this after you finished your sandwich.. “It's just for a month,” you convinced yourself mentally, trying to calm yourself down but the tears in your eyes can't help but drip down onto the wooden table. The heavy feeling in your chest now piled up, giving you hard times to breathe properly.

What if he never misses home anymore? What if he already meets someone else in the far land? What if...he never comes home anymore..

Your hand gripped your shirt tightly, letting the heavy tears streaming down your glassy eyes down your chin and leaving wet patches on your laps. “Please, come home safe,Childe..”

A smile appeared on your face when the smell of Childe's favourite dish was done on the stove and ready to devour it. Your eyes were a bit puffy and red from the previous crying session, worrying about your lover but after a few minutes of pushing the bad thoughts into the back of your head, you distracted yourself with normal house chores. You hum to yourself soft lullaby and you read a book from the shelf with a cup of hot cocoa.

You untied the apron on your back carefully before hanging the apron back its place on the wall. You washed the dishes on the sink and noticed how the moon outside the window looked pretty as a full moon tonight. You chuckled to yourself when you remembered how Childe used to wrap his arms around your waist from behind to help clean up the dishes. You enjoy the food in front of the burning fireplace silently while your mind travels back into the memories, making your chest sting again just like before. You put down the empty plate and gently wiped the small water droplets.

Time for bed. You laid down onto the cold bed with a small sigh. Everyday feels like a routine by now. You curled to yourself under the blanket with a deep frown, hoping for at least something would comfort you tonight. Before you realize it, tears blur your vision just as sadness overwhelmed you. Cannot keep the feeling to yourself, you let out soft sobs while hugging a pillow tight to yourself. The tears flowing out just like the heavy feeling in your chest.

“Ajax..I miss you..Please come home”

Just like a god heard your whimpers, a pair of strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you close to a hard chest. The gloved hand patting your head in comforting motion and the other one holding you close. Your eyes widened in a mixture of shock and happiness as your arms pulled him closer too. His scent, his presence, his warmth and his comforting heartbeats. Everything just feels like a real home.

“Welcome home” you muffled on his shoulder and he responded with a happy chuckle. A loving kiss landed onto your forehead and his chest vibrated from his heavenly laugh. He gently wiped your tears with his gloved thumbs before giving you a longing and loving kiss on your lips. “I’m finally home”

#genshin x reader #romance #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin childe #childe x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #genshin impact x reader #childe fluff

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gojology · 3 years

Text

The Start of Winter Break. (18+)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | I FEEL RLLY SAD CUZ I WANTED TO DO THE SUKUNA BUT I DONT KNOW THE STORY ON ALADDIN SO I OPTED FOR 2 INSTEAD IM SORRY ANON. anyways i wanted to feed u guys rlly well and actually took the time to write and edit. I’M REFORMED also writing on google docs is so hard?? (reposting cuz i think im shadowbanned)

𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 3798

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Food Play, Nipple Play, Oral (Fem Receiving), Degrading Nicknames (I didn’t really proof read that hard but I know there’s like, a mention of one nickname along the lines of that.)

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | It’s the first day of Winter Break, and you want to surprise Gojo with a cup of hot cocoa, instead, Gojo surprises you. Blinking your eyes furiously, you adjusted to the dark room. Immediately, you breathe a sigh of relief. You didn’t have to wake up at such an early hour, and for once you woke up refreshed. It was finally the first day of Winter Break, you had overworked yourself, making sure that you were to spend the end of the year work-free and available for as many Christmas parties you wanted to attend. Yawning, stretching as you did so, you look over your shoulder. There’s a slight smile dawning on Gojo’s lips. His long eyelashes fluttered when he slept. He slightly snored, grabbing at where you once slept in his arms. The room was unusually cold. You had always awoke to sunlight streaming from the window, realizing that could only mean that another day of work was ahead of you. But now, the room was dim, and freezing might you add. You couldn’t wait to snuggle with Gojo, this was perfect cuddle weather. Tearing your eyes away from Gojo’s pretty face, you instead looked at the door. Years of photos with Gojo absolutely slathered the poor thing, past memories all flickering before your eyes. Pictures in Disneyland, bright colors in contrast with the rather dark clothes he always seemed to wear. Once in a while, you would see pictures of Yuuji, Shoko, Megumi, Nobara, just about every Tokyo Jujutsu Tech School member there was, and even Utahime, celebrating good times with Gojo. You didn’t find yourself in many of the pictures, but the ones you did find yourself happened to be some of your fondest memories. Far more common were pictures of you, with ridiculous, shit, you’d even go as far as to say downright ugly faces while he told you a stupid joke were also taped sloppily, some photos were even slanted. Gojo had made it a firm promise to take pictures of you when you least expected it, because that’s when he always found you the cutest. You peek at Gojo’s sleeping face once more, a slight giggle rising from your throat that you struggled to silence. His mouth, slightly agape, was now drooling onto the pillow he oh so gracefully rested on. Jerking your head up and snapping out of your Gojo daze, you realized that you were supposed to make your daily morning coffee for you and him today. You had chewed him out multiple times, telling him that the way he made coffee was nauseating. Usually, Gojo would always accompany the bitter drink with 8 sugarcubes, which was not your thing. He always seemed to forget, honestly you couldn’t really tell with him, giving you a mug of absurdly sweetened coffee every morning. You always foolishly assumed that he had listened to you from the last scolding, so you would always sip it, letting the coffee coat your pallet, but promptly spit it out as soon as you realized how sickly sweet it was. “Satoru! This is too sweet!” “Honeybun, you’re the sweetest thing in this room, what do you mean the coffee could be too sweet? Not possible.” he would inquire innocently, tilting his head to the side. You’d frown, shaking your head and muttering about the acts of distaste you’d do to him before Gojo bursts into a fit of laughter, pointing at you and watching you unenthusiastically look back. Most likely fuming silently, but you didn’t want to tell him that. “You’re so fucking cute when you’re angry, (Y/N).” “Satoru, I can literally not survive the day without coffee. Whatever you’re serving me is definitely not the coffee I want, and sooner or later I’ll be dropping dead.” He would shrug playfully, as if he didn’t even understand the core concepts of what you were trying to tell him. But you knew he did, he just didn’t want to do it. You would clench your fists, trying to look threatening. Your back straightening, and on your tippy toes even though you knew you could never be as tall as him. It never ever worked though, he would just continue to laugh harder, but that was just the routine. “Then do it yourself, sweetie. I wake up at the asscrack of dawn just to make you a cup of coffee. I don’t know about you, but that’s the best show of love.” “Oh I will. I’ll do it well.” And so, you weren’t lying. The two of you began to take turns. You woke up even earlier than you did for work, and made him his coffee (with extra sugar, just as he likes it) while also making yours, making sure to relish the bitter and frankly delicious black drink, void of any sweetening. The next day, he would as well. He never listened to your sugar lectures though, making sure to add 3-4 cubes just to make you angry. You had pretty much given up on all hope of ever getting your ideal coffee from Satoru, it was beyond him to even listen. Besides, you had grown to like the sweetness. Speaking of brown sweet liquids, it was a perfect hot cocoa morning. The snow was beginning to pile up outside, pure white blanketing just about everything. You hastily threw on an oversized sweater Gojo owned, which you had found strewn on the ground. You rolled your eyes, that guy was a mess. What would he do without you? Trudging and stumbling your way into the kitchen like a newborn fawn, you flicked on the lights. As soon as the lights came on, you shielded your eyes from the brightness. Cursing as you pulled out a chair, your eyes slowly adjusting, pulling the chair over to the shelves and cabinets out of reach. Now standing on the wooden chair, you grumbled. So much for being a good girlfriend, your legs ached for some reason, so every time you stood on your tippy toes, you winced. Knocking down a bottle of vegetable oil into the sink, you were startled by such an incredibly loud noise. Your eyes widen and your legs tangle as you scramble, almost falling backwards. Grabbing onto the cabinet’s ledge, you breathed a sigh of relief as the chair stabilized. This was a blessing in disguise, as the chocolate syrup came into view. A feeling of triumph flooding you, you happily hummed gently pulling it out. Setting it down on the counter, you got down, moving the chair over to the right. Standing back onto the chair, you placed a finger on your lips, slightly rubbing them. Your memory wasn’t doing you very well, forgetting where all the extra add-ons for baked goods were. Your tongue stuck out to the side, swinging a random cabinet’s doors wide open. You had guessed correctly, sprinkles of various vivid colors stood idly, eye-catching colors on full display. A fine coat of dust had settled on the caps. You coughed into your arm, now rummaging through the many sprinkles that Gojo would insist on buying because, “they were too cute to pass up.” Sometimes, you swore the guy was a middle-aged Pinterest mom. Yanking out a half opened bag of Jumbo Marshmallows, you did a small victory dance. Normally, Gojo would inhale the darned things, but he was asleep, and very soundly at that. Finally able to have your first taste of marshmallows in a while, you popped a couple in your mouth, practically melting. So sweet. Strolling over to the fridge while popping more marshmallows in your mouth, you lazily threw the bag onto the counter. Swinging the fridge door wide open, you shivered at the cold air, hauling a jug of milk out. As usual, it was half full. Gojo would insist on eating all his cookies with milk, and if he didn’t have milk with his cookies, he would not eat them, stating that it was against his beliefs to even begin to stare at a cookie without a cold glass of milk at the side. He was probably a 9 year old trapped in a 28 year olds body. Humming a short tune, you poured the milk into a mug that Gojo had bought for you as a souvenir on a business trip. Painted onto it was a beautiful scene. Flourishing, vibrant flowers only half-heartedly concealing an undisturbed pond, deers frolicking around it. The mug was your favorite cup, and even Gojo, who most likely had the memory span of a goldfish when it came to unnecessary facts such as this one, knew it. You flipped the chocolate syrup bottle upside down, smacking the top. Making a note to yourself to buy chocolate syrup the next time you went out. Strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer. “Boo.” Startled, you twirled around, expecting a rather friendly home invader, or something along the lines of that. Instead, you were greeted with Gojo Satoru’s face. Satoru’s eyebrow twitches, looking at you with an amused expression. “Scared? We’re on the same boat.” he snickered, “woke up to some loud ass bang.” Gojo sleepy whispered into your ear, ruffling your hair with his large, calloused hands. His chin now resting on your right shoulder. “I dropped the vegetable oil on accident.” You ignored the light, fluttering feeling when he touched you. “Gosh, you’re a clumsy one aren’t you, sugar?” Scoffing, you whip your head back to the hot chocolate. An unhealthy serving of chocolate syrup was splattered inside the mug, already blending with the milk. “Don’t turn your back on me, pumpkin.” whining playfully, tugging at your left shoulder. There was something about such a playful, childish Gojo that you loved. You wished you got to see it more often. You pretend to be annoyed, looking at him, now standing up without the support of your shoulder, in the eye now. A flicker of mischievousness over his face, he looks down at you. “How thoughtful.” kissing your temple, he yawned. “Making hot chocolate for me? Oh hey- you even got the exact same amount of chocolate I like.” “Satoru.” hands on your hips, you were bemused. How could one even like sugar this much? “This is an ungodly amount of chocolate syrup, and can NOT be good for you.” His warm gaze stared back, a slight curve to his lips now. You swear you could die a happy girl now, Gojo wasn’t sleepy very often, so when he was, you made sure to relish it. Usually, when you were lucky enough to be in the presence of a sleepy Gojo, he was always softer. Giving you small, coy smiles. Your retort didn’t even seem to register in his brain in the slightest. “I want it, though.” You sighed, facepalming. “Ooooh, marshmallows!” suddenly bursting with energy he never exhibited before seeing the sugary treat, his long arm extended over to the bag, tugging at it to get it closer to him before finally shoving 3 or more into his mouth. “Satoru!” you yank his hand back from the entrance of his mouth, able to save a few, albeit a bit ugly and smooshed, marshmallows. “Wha?” he rubbed his eyes, chewing noisily on the marshmallows he was lucky enough to get into his mouth. “Baby. We need those marshmallows, here, can you microwave a bowl of them? Save a few for later.” He nodded obediently, tugging a bowl out of the “washed dishes” section of the sink. Wiping it down sloppily with a towel. He dug his hand into the marshmallow bag, throwing a few handfuls into the bowl before carefully placing the bowl into a microwave, sneaking a few more into his mouth before jabbing at a few buttons. “There.” he gave you a crooked grin and a thumbs up, walking back over to you, placing warm fingers against your cheek, suddenly jumping back. “Holy shit, babygirl, you’re cold.” About to respond, you too realized how cold you were. Lightly shivering, your hands seemed to be blocks of ice. “Babe, can you go get an extra sweater-” Hands under your sweater (well, technically his) suddenly, his warm, big hands massaged your breasts. You yelped, the hot contact against your cold skin was electrifying. His thumbs, rubbing over your nipples lazily, sent even more shivers down your spine. Quietly moaning, you looked back at Gojo, who seemed to thoroughly savor every little sound you made. “Like that, lil girl~?” “S-Satoru! Not now… I’m making you s-something!” “Hot cocoa doesn’t take a chef to make.” he placed kisses on your neck, lightly suckling on your bare skin. “I-I know, but just… N-not now.” you stammered, he was now tweaking your nipples, gently pulling them. He didn’t seem to register the request though, but instead was drawing lazily on your breast. “That better, missy?” he questioned, watching you catch your breath and gulp. Resting his chin on your shoulder once more. “Mmmmm.” you responded, thoroughly enjoying his warm touch. Closing your eyes, enjoying the mystifying feeling his hands always gave you. Loudly, the microwave beeped. Suddenly jumping up from the loud occurrence, Gojo cursed under his breath and jogged over to the microwave, swinging the handle open. “Great news, (Y/N). I didn’t burn the marshmallows!” Grumbling under your breath, and wishing all hell to the microwave for disrupting such an intimate event, you nodded, giving him a few weak claps for his rather stupid achievement. Gesturing for him to bring the bowl over, you pulled out a spoon from the drawer beneath you. As soon as Gojo placed the bowl on the counter, he zoomed back to where he had left off, grabbing one of your breasts and squeezing it. This time, he was massaging one of your shoulders. Your breathing was heavier when he did this, Gojo noted, watching as you struggled to mix the chocolate syrup and milk together. He did this for a while, eyeing the cooling marshmallow. He swiped up a dollop, wiping it down your neck. Letting out a gasp by the sudden warmth, you assumed it was Gojo’s mouth. To your surprise, it wasn’t. He licked the cloud of fluff, before straight up placing his entire mouth on it, lightly sucking and licking your skin. Your panties were getting awfully wet. “L-love, we n-need the fluff to a-add the finishing touch to t-the hot cocoa.” you would mutter, trying not to collapse from the pleasure. “You getting wet?” now lightly nibbling on your skin, his hand left your breast, dunking his hand underneath the fabric of your panties. He sneered, realizing the puddle that had seeped itself into the material. “Aw, you’re absolutely wet. Fuck am I saying?” he swirled his finger around your entrance, lightly dipping one of his fingers in before he took it out. Whimpering, your walls clenched around something that wasn’t there. “Anyways, let's get back to the hot cocoa!” innocently licking his glistening finger, he looked at you. ‘What? Y-you can’t do that to me-!” “Isn’t that what you wanted?” he chirped back, smiling devilishly. “That’s what I wanted before-” “Hush up, slut.” he rubbed your head with one hand, the other, stroking your cheek. You didn’t realize how hot you got when he called you a slut, whimpering, the hot cocoa long forgotten on the counter as you leaned into his chest. “Aw, you’re so cute.” tugging on your cheeks softly, you look up at him, while he looked down. Even though you were his girlfriend, you didn’t really see his eyes often. They were a brilliant shade of aquamarine, flecks of a darker blue were also sprinkled amongst the sea of various shades of blue. “You want something? You’re giving me those puppy eyes.” Still pulling at your cheeks, he stared down patiently, unable to hide the smile on his face. “I hate when you tease me.” you blurt out, surprisingly coherent, even though Gojo was pinching your cheek. Another flicker of amusement on his face. “That’s not how you ask for something you want.” He stopped pinching your cheeks, now staring at you. You couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking about, his face was blank, eyes cloudy. “Mmm, I’ll give you one last chance before you get punished. Now missy, what do you want?” You tugged at the hem of his pants, still making eye contact. “You can’t have that, sweetie.” he straightened you back up, so that you weren’t leaning on his chest any longer. “It’s way too early.” “Then what was the point of teasing me?” you groaned, clasping your hands together and looking at him. “Please?” you were sure to have your eyelashes flutter. He laughed, shaking his head. “Sorry, princess.” You groaned, getting down onto the cold floor, getting onto your knees, looking at his pleasurably entertained face. “...What about now?” He chuckled, rubbing your head again. “No, baby. I’m just not in the mood, but I can make a recommendation that works with me. Although, you’re really cute when you’re on your knees for me.” You nodded, nervously anticipating whatever he wanted to do. You didn’t need to wait, though, he carried you over to the table, like a princess, unclothing you quickly. Throwing his sweater onto the floor once again, you felt your heart jump a little. A small pile of clothing consisting of the sweater, your panties, and a t-shirt was crumpled up on the floor. He cupped your breasts, leaning over the table to look at them. His expression softened, placing delicate kisses on each breast, making you gasp a little. “So cute.” whispering, rubbing your nipples once again. Your hands found their home in Gojo’s hair, now clenching onto his snowy white locks. He grunted a little as you pushed his head further into your chest, effectively telling you to start suckling on the now slightly abused domes. “Just a sec, (Y/N).” extending his impossibly long limbs to grab the marshmallow fluff bowl, his long fingers danced at the rim, then pulled it closer to his chest. Yanking the spoon out of the bowl, he spread the lukewarm fluff on your body, you weren’t expecting such warmth, and you let out a yelp, realizing what he was slathering onto you. “Satoru! D-did you forget what I said e-earlier?” “Nope, I just don’t care.” sadistically grinning, he ducked his head down, the space between your breasts and his face non existent. He had practically smooshed himself into your embrace, your arms around his head. He was good with his tongue, you had to admit, too good. Goosebumps grew on your skin, no matter how many times you two fucked senseless, he still had such an effect on you. His tongue swirling around your nipple, fingers rubbing and teasing the other. You felt his hot breath against your skin, and you couldn’t help but think how good it felt. Strands of hair tickled you as he began to noisily slurp, before coming back up again. Your breast was glistening with spit, few thin lines of marshmallow fluff left over. He licked them up, before scooping up a few dollops of marshmallow fluff onto you, looking hungrily at the attention-starved breast, before diving back down. Fingers now giving the spoiled nipple almost close to 0 action. He licked the hard nipple a few more times before sucking onto it, as if he was a baby. I mean, he probably was. Afterall, he was a manchild. Regardless, you found yourself heavily breathing, hugging his head like it was the last thing you’d ever do. His teeth lightly nibbled, making you jump a little. Now biting onto it, you squealed. He glanced up, before going back down, licking the sensitive bud. You felt a rush near your lower regions, a familiar warmth rushed to your cheeks. “S-Satoru! I think I’m gonna-!” You weren’t even going to finish the sentence, the white, hot liquid pooling out of you as soon as you uttered a few words. Gojo’s attention was now focused on you, before looking down. “Woah, lil girl. That’s a large mess. I didn’t know your pussy needed any attention.” he directed his gaze towards your pussy, spreading the folds and softly examined it. “How pretty.” he muttered, he flicked his thumb on your clit, making you moan loudly. “FUCK!” you threw a hand over your mouth, he laughed, his breath tickling you. “You’re really wet.” Without any warning before hand, he dove in between your legs, beginning to noisily slurp at your folds, dipping his tongue into your entrance. You began to practically scream louder, you were fuzzy, your body, your mind, everything. Unable to cover your moans, you began to grimace at the stares your neighbors would give you when you went out for the mail. Gojo would laugh, telling you that, “He was just trying to show the world you were his.” and not pay any mind, cursing him for being so skilled, you struggled to contain all the noises you were making. You felt his tongue tease your entrance playfully, flicking your clit a few times for extra measure, you were now wildly thrashing, and you knew Gojo couldn’t wait to ridicule you over dinner. About to straight up shove his head closer into you, his tongue finally stuck inside of you. Letting out a sigh of relief mixed with added pleasure, he skillfully lapped at your juices. Noisily slurping away at you, he glanced up. You were trying to sit up, but were struggling as you did so. The waves of pleasure sent you crashing back down onto the table. You felt him exhale through his nose, tickling you once again. He closed the little space between you and his face, as soon as he was in contact with your skin, you wrapped your legs around his back, trying to close the distance that wasn’t there. Now, his tongue was reaching you in places you’d never think he would. Flush, hot skin was sweating against the table surface, but you paid no mind, promising yourself to wipe the top later. Hair strands practically glued to the sides of your head due to the sweat, you whined again, feeling yourself close to cumming. You were about to speak again, warning Gojo, but you couldn’t. Before the words could even spill out of your mouth, you felt yourself burst. Gojo, seemingly unaware, was still lapping at your walls. You looked at him, breathing heavily. His eyes widened, and you felt him stop licking for a while, before you saw him gulp and stand back up. His eyes twinkled a little in the light, and you straightened, sitting on the table, your heart still beating rapidly. “You never told me you were gonna cum.” You turned your head to the side, about to retort, before you realized the empty bowl of marshmallow fluff. “Satoru! I told you to not use it all!” (resposting because i think im shadowbanned, please interact if u saw this!)

#gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru #gojou satoru #jjk gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #smut and more smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #hhhh #i think im shadowbanned

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combat-wombatus · 3 years

Text

Nightmare

Pairing: Hawks (Takami Keigo) x gn!reader

Genre: angst, fluffy ending

Warnings: choking (at the beginning), implied abuse, unintended physical assault?

WC: 1.5k

Summary: Hawks has a nightmare and you comfort him.

(A/N): not me skipping out on school homework again to write this-

anyways a lovely anon requested “reader comforting Hawks after a nightmare” and said something about Hawks’s father being a convicted villain. now, i’m not a manga reader so i don’t exactly know what’s happening at this point, so i did my own little take on it. u didn’t include the gender of the reader in ur request so i did my best to make it gender neutral! hope you enjoy, anon! have a lovely day ❤️ (and if u don’t like this take on it u can always request something else or a diff version of this!! i don’t mind at all! 😘 )

You woke up suddenly, the feeling of a hand wrapped around your throat making it impossible to breathe. Gasping for air, you struggled uselessly against the strong hand holding you captive.

“K-Keigo,” you rasped out, hands clawing desperately at the fingers constricting your airway. “L-let go, K-Keigo. I-it’s,” you coughed, spluttering. “It’s me.” You tried to keep a calm mind, but your vision was getting hazier by the moment, your thrashing slowing, running out of energy.

Finally, you stop struggling. Maybe he’d let go if he believed that you, or whichever entity you replaced in his head, was dead. He snarled once, then his grip around your neck slowly loosened. You sucked in air greedily, gulp after gulp, as if you’d never breathe again.

Once you had calmed yourself down, you slowly reached up to cup your boyfriend’s face with your hands, cradling it like he was the most delicate thing in the world.

“Baby,” you whispered, the choking having taken its toll on your voice. “Keigo, honey, wake up. You’re having another nightmare.”

Maybe calling him by his first name in a circumstance like this wasn’t the best idea. He immediately snatched both of your wrists and pinned them above your head. You winced at the sudden movement, and you could feel your muscles stretching further than they were meant to.

“Baby,” you tried again. “Hawks.”

His body went still when you called him that. His breath hitched, and his grip on your wrist loosened ever so slightly.

Slowly, you moved your wrists apart, then moved in to wrap your boyfriend in a bear hug. You rubbed his back soothingly, careful to avoid touching his wings, and murmured softly into his neck.

“It’s okay, honey. It’s okay. You’re just having another nightmare.”

Slowly, he shifted away from you. Blinking groggily into your eyes, he tried to recollect himself. You managed a small smile of relief, which disappeared quickly as soon as you saw his eyes latch onto your bruised neck.

“Babe,” his voice was small, almost as if he was scared this was real. “Babe, did I do that to you?” His voice cracked.

Clearing your throat to try and get rid of the excess scratchiness that remained, you replied as calmly as you could. “Yeah babe, but it’s okay, you were just having another nightmare. You didn’t really hurt me, see?” You tried to take his hand and place it on your neck to prove to him that you weren’t hurt, but he flinched away at your touch. You blinked back tears, trying not to let them fall. Why was this so hard?

You pushed back the covers to your bed and padded into the kitchen. Opening the cabinets, you looked for the hot cocoa mix that was perpetually in stock at your boyfriend’s apartment. He loved hot cocoa, and although chamomile was usually the “calming” tea, you found that cocoa had a much better effect on Keigo.

Quickly brewing two cups, you added some marshmallows and carried them back into the bedroom. Sitting down on the bed next to Keigo, you nudged him lightly with your elbow.

“Drink.” You held out a cup to him.

Wordlessly, he reached out and took the cup from you. He took careful measured sips, never once looking at you. You focused your eyes on your own cup instead and winced when you took your first sip. You hadn’t expected it to be so painful to swallow. Apparently, your throat muscles were still sore. Forcing yourself to take sips of the drink normally so that he wouldn’t catch on and ask what was wrong, you sat in silence, waiting until he was ready to talk.

Keigo moved to speak, but words wouldn’t come out of his mouth. He’d hurt you. Badly. If you hadn’t managed to think quickly enough to play dead, and then to realize that calling him by his hero name would be better than calling him by his given name, who knows what would’ve happened? Would he have killed you?

The sounds that came out of his mouth were more of a choked sob than anything else. Why? Why did this happen? He’d stopped having nightmares about his childhood years ago. Why now? He couldn’t understand it. Sleeping together with you in the same bed should have brought warmth and comfort. Peace. The opposite of what had transpired earlier.

He curled and unfurled his wings repeatedly, his go-to stress reliever. Taking another big gulp of his drink, he tried to clear his mind.

“Babe?” You asked quietly, not wanting to disturb him. “Babe, I’m okay. Look, I’m right here,” you tried to assure him that he didn’t really hurt you. Keigo didn’t respond. Suddenly, he stood up and marched out of the bedroom.

Keigo couldn’t think. He just couldn’t process it. He set his cup down on the kitchen counter, then quickly grabbed his pants, a shirt, and his warm flying jacket. He threw on his goggles and headphones faster than he’d ever done before, pressed a button to open the living room window, and hopped out.

You were still sitting quietly on the bed, hands wrapped around your favorite mug. Tears were trickling down your eyes, but still, you sat in silence. Why couldn’t he open up? Why couldn’t he tell you what was wrong, so you could help him? You didn’t think that you had ever felt so helpless before, the aching in your chest had never been as painful. You missed him. You wanted to hold him, tell him that everything would be okay, but he hadn’t let you.

Setting down your mug on the nightstand, you slid open the drawer. You took out a photo album Keigo had given you for your first anniversary. You flipped through it slowly, each picture reminding you of a happy memory.

The picture that your friend secretly took the first time he took you out on a date.

The two of you visiting the botanical gardens, him carrying you, flying right above the water lily pond.

A picture of him greeting a small fan of his, arms wrapped around the little boy’s body, beaming into the camera.

The time that you went to the animal shelter and adopted a pet kitty.

The picture of you lying back on a picnic blanket in a field of wildflowers, hands behind your head, gazing up at the stars.

You hugged the album close to your chest, convinced that you could help him. You weren’t willing to give up on this relationship, and you knew that he wouldn’t let it go without a fight either. Slowly, grogginess seeped in and you fell asleep, tear tracks staining your cheeks, still cradling the photo album in your arms.

That was how Keigo found you, snoring slightly into your pillow, curled up on your side. He’d flown around the prefecture, music rattling his bones, savoring the cool night air on his face. He circled the theater, the botanical gardens, and the meadows. He’d even flown up a mountain and stood on its peak. Surveying the city laid out before him, he’d realized that in this entire city of 10 million people, the only one he’d formed a true connection with, the only one he could truly call a friend, was you. He’d hurt his only friend, but selfish as it was, he wasn’t willing to let you go.

You woke up to the sound of footsteps by the bed. Blearily, you blinked your eyes, trying to rid your vision of the fuzziness that took over, and stared up at your boyfriend. He had his hands tucked in his pockets, looking wary, yet alive. Gingerly, he sat down beside you on the bed.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” you responded in a sleepy tone.

His gaze shifted towards your neck, where bruises in the shape of his hand littered your skin. He lifted a hand cautiously and gently rubbed your throat with his thumb.

“Does it hurt?” He whispered, looking ashamed of himself. “Please tell me the truth.”

“Only a little,” you begrudgingly admitted, then moved to place your hand on top of his.

He swallowed, clearly upset at his actions.

“You weren’t in control of yourself, Keigo,” you said quietly. “You were having a nightmare. It wasn’t your fault.”

“That’s the problem,” he whispered harshly. “I wasn’t in control of myself. I couldn’t stop myself. What if it happens again? What then, (Y/N)? What if we’re unlucky, and I don’t wake up in time?”

“It won’t happen again,” you reply sternly. “Because you’re going to talk to me about that nightmare you had and we’re going to work through it. If we can’t, then I’ll take you to see a therapist. We’re going to work this out, Keigo.”

He inhaled sharply, then took his other hand and wrapped you in a hug.

“You’re right, babe. We’re going to get through this together,” he murmured, chin resting atop of your head.

You smiled softly against his shoulder, knowing that it was the truth.

Masterlist

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foodieforthoughts · 3 years

Note

Hi, I love your writing and spirit. I was wondering if you could write me something since I had a bad day. This can be for both gentlemen since I am torn on who to pick for the scenario. How would Chris and Henry deal with an SO who has Raynaud's syndrome? BTW they look light human furnaces. I want to curl up next to one (if not both) and fall asleep.

Hey anon, thank you for the request and I hope you are feeling better. 🥺❤️

I have come across only a handful of patients with Raynaud's in my 1 month general med rotation during internship and since I work at an orthopedic hospital now, my knowledge is limited to what I had seen then. Also, the patients I came across were having mild symptoms, so that's what I have mentioned here.

And since you are having a bad day hun, I'm going to give both Henry and Chris to you. 😊

Title: Until we're grey and old

HENRY:

You had been curled up in a ball under the blankets. It was the middle of winter and London was cold with snowfall outside. Henry was lighting the fire in the hearth, with steaming cups of cocoa for both of you on the end table.

"Bear, come to bed." You mumbled from under the sheets, rubbing your palms as you felt a prickling pain in your digits. "I hate winter." You added, hissing as you pressed the ends of your fingers which had turned pale.

"You love winter." Henry corrected, coming to join you in bed. His large body was clad in a comfy sweater you had gotten for him last Christmas. He was on a break from work and he had let his curls and his scruff grow, which made him look like the cutest teddy bear.

He pulled off the covers and entered the warm fort you were hiding under. He adjusted himself against the headboard, his huge frame looming next to you. He reached his arm out and pulled you next to him, the warmth from his body instantly providing relief to your cold body. He reached to grab a cup of cocoa on the table and handed it to you.

"Drink up, love. You'll feel better." He kissed the top of your head, resting his arm over your shoulder.

While you cupped the mug with one hand, Henry took your other hand in his, enveloping in his warm, large palm. Henry was a blazing fire to your cold body, exteriorly and even from within. You smiled lovingly at him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"I'll take care you, baby. You don't have to worry about anything." He said, pulling you closer to his body.

Henry rubbed your back, holding you close to him, the fire felt like nothing as compared to your lovingly snuggly, toasty man.

CHRIS:

"Are you feeling better, babe?" Chris draped another blanket on top of you. You were under three layers of thick blankets, shivering still, trying to hug yourself to warmth.

"It was stupid of me to go out in the snow." You muttered, hot tears brimming in your eyes. Dodger had his head on your knee, looking up at you the moment he sensed your tone. Chris pulled a pair of socks from the drawers, the Captain America ones you had bought when 'Civil War' had come out in the theaters.

"You wanted to play in the snow, honey. I think it is a valid reason." He smiled warmly at you while pulling the blankets up from the other end. He instructed Dodger to go to his bed which the pup obediently obliged to. He slipped the socks on your feet, the woolen fabric already providing comforting warmth to your cold and numb toes.

"Why couldn't I be normal?" You sniffed, watching Chris walk to the other side of the bed after tucking the ends of the blanket securely.

With teary eyes you looked at your boyfriend. His full grown beard complementing his noble and mature nature. Chris pulled the covers enough to slide next to you. He grabbed the gloves on the nightstand and slowly put them on your hands one by one.

"You are perfect the way you are, sweety." He said before placing a kiss on the top of your head. Wiping the stray tear that had escaped your eyes, he pulled his flannel over his head and tossed it on the ottoman.

"I don't mind looking after you." Chris ran a hand through your tresses, soothing you as a mild stinging pain started emitting from your warming extremities.

You grimaced with the pain, wounding your arms around your body and bringing your legs up to your chest. Chris understanding what was to come, slid all the way inside the blankets, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his heated body.

"You are going to sweat." You mumbled against his furry chest.

Chris chuckled, placing another kiss on your forehead. "Some people are worth melting for."

You allowed yourself to laugh, before easing into his wide embrace. "My Disney geek." You commented with a smile, his rumbling laugh warming you in more ways than one.

#ask foodie #anon ask #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill #chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans rpf #henry cavill fluff #chris evans fluff

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sunqyu · 4 years

Text

~ First kiss with Treasure pt. 1 (Hyunsuk, Jihoon, Yoshi, Junkyu, Mashiho and Jaehyuk)

Request: “ First kiss with treasure? (reaction something like that) love your blog, you ARE the cutie 💞💞 “ - Anon

OHH THANK YOUUU. That means a lot to my beginner-writers-heart. This request is also absolutely adorable so thank you for sending it in! Hope you enjoooy. Since it’s a little longer (I got carried away with Hyunsuk and then wanted to give all the boys some detail which got me carried away even more so aye, there’s that) it’s two parts, the second one is here - Nova

Hyunsuk

the type to really wait for the exact right time

wants it to be a memorable moment for you two to look back on later

which might lead to some frustration for you

because before he actually goes for it there have been a lot of moments where you might’ve thought ‘THIS IS IT. IT’S HAPPENING.’

but no, to Hyunsuk it still needed a little extra

for some reason I feel like it would be when you are both a little sleepy

after a long day together that was filled with fun things

but also a few less fun things

maybe you got lost somewhere or took the wrong train back

one of those days that would’ve been quite exhausting and frustrating if it hadn’t been with you

finally home he’d turn on your favorite show and you’d just lay on the couch together, exhausted but content

with that feeling in your legs you get after walking all day and finally laying down, all warm

you were talking about something which the show reminded you of but he’s just lost in thought, a little snoozy

thinking about how happy he’s actually been since he met you

‘Hey-.. look at me.’ soft drowsy voice

he’d stay still for a second when you look up from laying on his chest

just taking in the way you look and feel so warm against him

before you can ask what’s up he’d slowly close the distance

it would be a slow but simple kiss, lingering a little before he pulls back with the same admiring look on his face

‘I’m sorry- what were you saying?’

Jihoon

might be quite fast and random actually

because he likes surprising you out of nowhere

it’s the confused look on your face that makes it so much fun for him

especially if it makes you blush

‘cause god that makes you look cute

that also means it would probably be on impulse

so not necessarily at end of the date

maybe even at the beginning (damn, imagine)

he’d pick you up at your place and you’re still grabbing your stuff

the idea would pop up in his head only a few seconds before

but the execution has to be perfect ofcourse

so he leans against the doorpost all casually while pretending to do something on his phone

when he’s really just swiping side to side on his homescreen

even though he’s trying to look unbothered, on the inside he’s SCREAMING

already feels his ears getting red when he hears your footsteps coming closer

ready? action.

looks up with the most nonchalant look he can muster

‘Oh, you’re ready to go? Cool.’

the moment you stand close enough he’d put his free hand on your cheek

moving way quicker than he had planned

the kiss would be meaningful and last a few seconds so you could process what was happening before it was over

he would grab your hand while turning around right away to start walking

trying not to show the big grin on his face right away but you’d still hear it in his voice

‘Let’s goo-.’

Yoshi

such a wholesome bean

would definitely want it to be outside

with some nice scenery

the whole simplistic romance-sh’bang

preferably cold weather, maybe in the evening when it’s just starting to get dark

nearing the end of a date but not aaall the way at the end

maybe you two went out to eat at a new place he wanted to show you

and since he never gets tired of spending time with you he suggested to get hot cocoa and walk around the city after

you finished the hot cocoa over an hour ago but your conversations were endless so you just kept walking without a destination

these were the moments he loved most

just you and him connecting over little things and sharing memories that have shaped you to be who you are now

no nonsense, no chaos, just your presence and nothing to distract him from it

eventually you had walked so far that the busy city streets were now gravel paths, trees lined up on both sides

since the sun had almost set entirely it was getting colder too

he had already given you his jacket the moment you walked out of the restaurant (that BAPE one from treasure map ep 4 and 5, iconic)

but he could tell it would be smart to start heading home

who knows how far that is at this point

he’d stop and turn to you

‘Maybe we should head home, don’t you think? I don’t want you to get sick.’

seeing you nod as you look up at him all snuggly in his jacket

it would be the first actual moment of silence after hours of soft and meaningful conversations

he’d think to himself how there’s only one thing that could make this moment even better

talking slowly but clearly since, no matter the big moment, he’d still feel at ease

‘Can I kiss you?’

the big smile that lit up your face would be enough as an answer

he’d close the distance rather quickly, cupping your face in his hands

which he purposefully held in his pockets the moment he decided he was going to ask so they wouldn’t be cold

you’d be able to feel him smile slightly

and as cliché as it may sound, in that moment it really felt like nothing else mattered

‘Let’s get you home now.’

just one more quick kiss before you’d walk in the other direction

conversation continuing where you left off

Junkyu

I do think he’d try to have something planned

I know that’s not reaaally like him but since it’s the very first kiss he’s definitely thought about it in advance

at the end of your previous date he’d be laying bed thinking, ‘Next time. Yes, next time I’m going to kiss her. I have to.’

trying to hype himself up

before the date itself he’d also say it in the mirror ‘You got this. Today’s the day.’

would be acting a bit weird throughout the date because of it

zoning out from time to time, trying to think of a way to make it happen all natural and smooth

a few hours pass by

the pressure is rising

he wasn’t really planning on making it a classic goodnight’s kiss

but here you are, standing in front of your door with you telling him how much fun you had

‘I’m sorry- what did you say?’

come on brain, work with him now

he’s focusing so hard without even knowing what he’s focusing on

you waving your hand in front of his face to make him come back to earth worked as a trigger

without realizing it he takes a step closer and just goes for it

naturally reaching out to hold your hand in his, the other catching up later and gently landing on your waist

all the weight is lifted from his shoulders when he feels you kiss him back

might even sigh softly before kissing you again

that second one would last a little longer, simply because he’s so happy he finally did it

breaks the kiss shortly, staying close to you

‘If only you knew how long I’ve wanted to do that.’

Mashiho

might be the most confident out of them all

still sees it as a big moment but is aware of the fact that stressing about it won’t make it any better

also knows that there will be loads more kisses to come which makes him happy ‘n giddy

even though he’s confident I still think he’d wait a little while

he wants to be 100% sure that you are ready and he’s not rushing you

the phase at the beginning of dating where you’re both still kind of figuring each other out is also very meaningful to him, likes taking things slow

he’d plan a date at home when the rest of the boys aren’t there

a movie-date but make it EXTRA

candles, pillows and blankets on the floor (far away from the fire because safety hazard)

instead of just opening a bag of chips you’d make something together

preparing nacho’s with all the toppings he could think of

maybe even a cheese platter (HOT DAMN FANCY MAN)

just loads of very strong and obvious upgrades to your usual evenings at home

after putting the nacho’s in the oven you’d ask him ‘now what?’

the urge to say he knows something to do would be so big but he doesn’t want to ruin the moment with too much cheesiness (ha, get it? nachos?) so instead he just says

‘well- I was going to wait until later but then again, why should I?’

you’d look at him confused

‘I’m going to kiss you, dummy.’

he’d snicker softly as your expression changed

still paying attention to how you reacted as he took a step closer

noticing you weren’t moving away at all he’d gently kiss you

a few seconds pass before he deepens the kiss, confidence increasing as he could tell you were leaning in just as much

the rest of the evening would be filled with lots of cute quick kisses

so happy he didn’t wait until later

Jaehyuk

a gentleman (but make it uwu)

reaaally takes his time

thinks he’s doing great and treating you right when in reality you’re so close to just going for it yourself

also seems quite traditional so I think he’d do it when he brings you home after a date

but unlike Junkyu he planned it that way

after you two went shopping together and he offered to buy you literally every single thing you said was even remotely nice-looking

you took loads of pictures together that day too

in one he pretends to kiss your cheek (like from a few cm away) to see your reaction

when you didn’t seem to mind it gave him a little more confidence for later on

on the walk to your house he’d let go of your hand to grab his phone and send you the pictures

you taking the initiative to grab his hand again after he put his phone away was like the icing on top of his confidencecake

once you reach your frontdoor he would feel that this is it, this is the moment he’s been preparing himself for

‘I really enjoyed spending time with you today. Every time we hang out I just have so much fun. I really reaally enjoyed it.’

nods along to emphasize some of his words

‘You already mean so much to me. I can’t wait for all the other memories we are going to make together.’

he’d take time to listen to you too, feeling his heart swell with all the sweet comments

‘Can I-?’

and lets be real you’ve waited for this so long that he doesn’t even have to finish his sentence before you start nodding

it would be so sweet, his hand featherlike on your cheek from how gentle he was

only after you kiss back he’d hold you a little tighter, still careful as if you’re made of glass

‘Could you be anymore perfect?’

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engagemachine · 3 years

Note

How would J react if Taylor swore infront/at him?

May 22nd: New update

Anon, I’ve been thinking about this ask for daaaaays. Had to write a fic. This is just part one (turned out a lot longer than I thought it would be--wrote it in one sitting) and I’ll post part two as soon as it’s done!

FYI: This takes place early on in Burn, probably sometime around chapter two, so Taylor is back in high school.

---

It’s still snowing outside when Taylor slides into her seat for third period English. She loves the overlarge windows in here, stretching along almost the entire wall of the left-hand side of the classroom. Black windowpanes showcase the little fountain in the courtyard, the stone benches seated around it, and the long, winding sidewalk where each senior from the class of 2002 got to lay down a single handprint in the cement to commemorate their pending graduation. Taylor thinks she would’ve liked that, to immortalize a piece of herself in that way, inscribing her name inside her handprint. Taylor B. It intrigued her, the thought of someone walking over her handprint years later, wondering who Taylor B was, what she was like, where she was now.

The fountain is frozen over, and the courtyard is blanketed in a thick layer of snow, still untouched. She wonders what it says about her that she often fantasizes about being the first one to run out and ruin it, leave her footprints behind, crunch through snow that is knee-deep, that no one else has sullied yet. There’s something about being the first person to disrupt the beauty of nature. Like stepping on a fallen dead leaf, the satisfaction of hearing it crackle beneath your feet. Or jumping into a still lake, watching the ripples that fan out across the water as you break through to the surface. Like leaving footprints in the sand at the beach, only to have them rinsed away by the incoming tide moments later. It’s a temporary disruption—and perhaps that’s the appeal.

Taylor settles into her seat and takes out her books. The classroom is unusually bright, the sky outside milky and pale as the snow piles up, falling softly in great big clumps. Mrs. Herndan leaves the lights off because they don’t need them.

Everyone is a little more animated than usual. If it keeps snowing like this, they might call it a half day and get to go home early. Taylor hopes that happens, that way she can order take-out and hang out with Mr. J. Maybe they can watch a movie together—something scary, so she has an excuse to cuddle up next to him, if he’ll let her. She’s been testing the boundaries of affection he’s willing to allow her to bestow, and recently she’s been surprised by how much she’s been able to get away with. Just last week she fell asleep next to him on the couch with her head on his shoulder—totally by accident—and he didn’t even move her. Just let her sleep there like that until she woke up, his hand heavy on her thigh, right above her knee, at which point she jumped up, all groggy and still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She swore up and down that she was sorry, she’d never do it again. She was so afraid he’d be mad, but he just looked at her kind of funny, like he was trying not to laugh, and she blushed furiously and hurried off to her room.

Class is kind of boring, and it’s hard to focus when everyone seems just as distracted as she is. Mrs. Herndan has to stop her lesson twice just to tell everyone to be quiet and put their phones away. Taylor is snapped to attention each time she does. She didn’t even realize she had been staring at the window.

When the bell rings, Mrs. Herndan shouts out their homework assignment for the weekend, but it’s mostly lost to the din of jostling bodies and excited chatter of weekend plans as everyone fights to get through the door at once. Whatever. She’ll just have check the syllabus when she gets home. They’re reading Romeo and Juliet and it’s really hard to understand. Maybe she can find a way to rent a movie of it from the library—there’s supposed to be a version with Leonardo DiCaprio, she thinks. Maybe that’ll help. Sometimes she wants to ask Mr. J for help—and in the past she has, like when she had to make that volcano for science class, and he knew exactly what to do—but Romeo and Juliet is way too embarrassing. All those thees and thous, the declarations of love. Like she could ever ask Mr. J to interpret that for her, not without dying from embarrassment first.

She gets twenty minutes into her next class before they finally call it on the overhead speakers—school is closed. She smiles to herself as she packs up her books, already imagining herself curled up on the couch with her sketchbook and a cup of hot cocoa. She should still have some marshmallows left over—as long as Mr. J hasn’t eaten them all. He’s always eating her snacks. Sometimes, in a moment of pure frustration upon stumbling onto an empty bag or box of secret snacks she had stashed away specifically for herself, she tells him to buy his own snacks, but he always counters with, I did buy these, giving her a pointed look, and, yeah, he kinda did. It’s his money, after all. Not like she could buy any of this stuff without him.

She’s pulling the rest of her books from her locker and shoving them into her backpack when she feels a tap on her shoulder from behind. She turns around to face Jennifer Bartlett—from her geometry class—who is holds out a pink envelope decked in glitter and little metallic hearts.

“You’re inviiiiited,” she sings, thrusting the card into Taylor’s hands. Taylor blinks at her.

“Me?” she asks. Clearly this is some kind of mistake. Maybe a joke.

“It’s a sleepover, so bring a sleeping bag, okay? And like, don’t tell your mom or whatever, but my parents won’t be there, so make sure you just get dropped off in the driveway and none of your parents try to come inside.”

“Oh,” she says, her mind still swirling from the invite. A sleepover. “Okay.” She forces her gaping mouth shut, quickly nods, tries not to look too overeager. “Okay,” she says again, a little cooler, smiling a little. “I’ll totally be there.”

“Great!”

Jennifer bounds off down the hallway, joining a group of giggling girls waiting for her at the end, and Taylor looks down at the envelope in her hand, her name on it and everything. Taylor B.

She bites her lip and smiles.

Taylor can’t get home fast enough.

The bus takes forever, and they have to divert into South Side because of an accident near Paramount Park.

When she finally hops off the school bus and bounds for home, perhaps she takes off a little faster than she should. One moment her backpack is bouncing behind her as she races down the sidewalk, and the next, she’s spread-eagled and lying flat on her back, staring up at the gray sky as snow drifts down in soft little clumps around her. Oof. That hurt. She didn’t hit her head—thankfully—but she managed to scrape her cheek on the icy pile of snow packed into a miniature wall along the edges of the sidewalk. She thinks her cheek might be bleeding.

She doesn’t know what’s more embarrassing: the fact that she fell, or that the bus driver didn’t stop to help.

She winces as she gets up, wipes the blood from her cheek, brushes the ice and snow from her hands, wipes her palms on her jeans. The bus hisses as it pulls away, and Taylor’s cheeks burn. Maybe no one saw?

Her right leg kind of hurts, and she hobbles the rest of the way home, her excitement not dampened as she crashes through the front door, making it halfway through the kitchen before she remembers to shimmy out of her wet boots. Her socks are wet—there was a lot of slush on the sidewalks the closer she got to home—and her feet leave little wet prints on the kitchen floor before she gets to the carpet.

“Mr. J!”

He’s not in the living room, and he’s not in his bedroom, either, when she throws open the door and scans the bed, his empty desk. She frowns, pokes her head around the doorframe to her own bedroom. Not there, either.

“Mr. J?” She goes back to the beginning of the hallway, knocks eagerly on the closed bathroom door. She can see yellow light bleeding out from the crack beneath the door, doesn’t know how she missed that before. “Mr. J, you’ll never guess what happened at school today!” She waits a beat for him to say something—a grunt, even, some form of acknowledgement that he hears her, she’d take anything—but when she’s met with silence, she barrels on. “I got invited to a slumber party!” she gushes. She has both palms pressed flat against the door, is bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I ran all the way home to tell you, I can’t believe it!” she squeals. “It’s this Friday so we have to go to the store A-S-A-P so I can get a sleeping bag, okay? I mean—if it’s okay with you that I can go. But I’m sure it will be because I really want to go and I’ve never been to a sleepover before.” She sighs, taking a breath. He still hasn’t said anything, so she turns her back to the door and leans against it. He has to come out eventually. “And you won’t even have to worry about dropping me off because I can just take the bus, okay? I looked up Jennifer’s address at the library at school and I already wrote down how to get there, so I won’t get lost! Oh, and maybe I should get new PJs, too? And do you think that—”

The door is jerked open so suddenly she doesn’t have time to react, and she’s falling backwards before she can catch herself, straight into Mr. J’s chest.

He’s holding her underneath her arms, and she tilts her head back to look up at him—upside down—as he looks down at her. His greasepaint’s bright. Fresh-applied. She can smell its gummy texture.

She smiles up at him, a little unsure. A little frightened. His eyes are so dark. “Jeeze,” she says, lightly, trying to dissolve the tension. “You have to give me a warning, Mr. J.” She tries to laugh a little, but it comes out stilted, and the look he pins her with makes the smile slip right off her face.

“Maybe I would if I could get a word in,” he replies. He gets his arms behind her and pushes her off him. Taylor’s cheeks burn as she stumbles a few feet into the kitchen. She knows she talks a lot when she’s excited. She’s like a faucet that won’t turn off.

“Sorry,” she murmurs. She keeps her head low, a little afraid to meet his eyes. He’s in a bad mood—but she’s determined to go to this party either way, and she won’t stop prodding until he says yes. She glances up for just a second to catch the narrowing of his eyes, and then his hand is reaching out, closing around her jaw in a way that makes her flinch, pulling her towards him.

“What’s this?” he says. His eyes on her skin burn, and it makes the cut on her cheek throb in memory.

“It’s nothing,” she says, annoyed, maybe a little embarrassed. She doesn’t want to have to tell him that she slipped and fell. Also, can they please get back to talking about her slumber party? She impatiently reaches up and pries his hand off her—he lets her. She ventures a few steps back, watching him, and her back hits the counter with a thud. “But about the party—it’s okay if I go, right?”

He ignores her question in favor of taking a few lumbering steps closer—towering over her—and his fingers around her jaw are much softer this time when he takes it in his hand, tilts her head to the side so the cut on her cheek winks at him in the light that streaks out from the bathroom.

He sounds almost curious when he asks, “Did someone hit you?”

His question feels like a gut-punch. She looks up at him, eyes widening in surprise for a moment, and then her gaze narrows, and she’s a little more forceful this time when she pries his hand off her jaw.

“No,” she snaps. She can’t believe he thinks she got bullied. “I’m not a loser. I know how to fight back if I have to,” she scowls.

He looks at her for a long moment, his eyes hard and calculating, but she makes a point to meet his stare head on. She’s not going to flinch away. After a beat, he grins a little—some secret smile, like he’s in on some joke she’s not privy to.

“Of course you do,” he says.

“So can I go to the slumber party or not?”

Mr. J raises his eyebrows as he thinks about it. “Dunno,” he says, “I seem to recall your last little, uh, party, didn’t end so hot. Maybe you remember,” he muses, leaning down low, so their faces are level, “—or maybe you don’t, since you were high as a fucking kite.”

Taylor balks at him—he never curses, at least not around her—and she can’t help the way her mouth parts in shock. She can feel the threads of hope she’d been clinging to rapidly slipping out of her hands.

Truthfully, there’s not a lot she remembers from that night. Just a bonfire and a stranger’s half-remembered bedroom. The weight of a body she hadn’t wanted, a frisson of fear, electric as it sizzled down her spine, and then fumbling down the stairs, out the front door. Nobody had even cared. And then the frigid moon, the icy bite of wind on her cheeks. She remembers Mr. J, at some point, and waking up in that old airplane hangar, where she’d promptly puked her guts out over the side of the couch. The rest of that night is a blur. It’s probably better that way.

“It’s not—” she stops. Tries to find her footing around the right set of words. She just wants this so badly. It’s her one opportunity to fit in. To make friends. To be somebody. She wants so desperately to try and explain it to him, make him understand how badly she needs this—but somehow she knows he won’t get it. He doesn’t care about fitting in, or being liked—he’s the most unliked person in all of Gotham. Maybe even the whole world.

“It won’t be like that this time,” she assures. “There won’t be any boys there. I promise. It’s just a girl party. And I promise I’ll be really, really good and come straight home after.”

Mr. J’s eyes are dark as he watches her plead her case, and she takes the opportunity to stick out her bottom lip and put on an exaggerated pout. “Pretty please?” she says. “With lots of sugar on top?”

The corner of his mouth curls into a grin. “Okay, baby doll. Since you asked so nicely.”

“Eeep!” She squeals in excitement, immediately perking up, diving forward to throw her arms around his waist. She gives him a squeeze and he surprises her by patting her back. Once. Twice. His display of affection makes her cheeks warm, and she squeezes him a little tighter, happy to bask in the moment. “Thank you, Mr. J.”

Taylor buys a new set of jammies and a sleeping bag. She even spends the whole day prior reading about sleepovers, Googling at the library, getting more and more excited. She wonders if they’ll do face masks, or have a pillow fight, or watch a romantic movie, or paint each other’s nails?

She goes to Mr. J to model her new PJs for him, a yellow top with tiny blue flowers, with little matching shorts and a scalloped hem. She is bouncing around his bedroom—she had a Red Bull earlier for the first time ever, and whoa—and she does a cartwheel on the bed once she has his attention, collapsing into a heap on the floor because she misjudged the distance. She giggles, and then uses the bed to pull herself up while she prances around the room and chatters about her slumber party. She has a little notepad she found in a drawer in the kitchen, and after a few minutes, she flops back on his bed, holding the notepad above her face. She’s making a list of all the stuff she might need to bring. She read online that sometimes you should bring snacks.

“Hey Mr. J, cookies or chips?” she asks.

She turns to lay on her side, facing him, where he’s seated in his desk chair and has spun around to watch her, his fingers drumming against the armrests. His eyes are dark—but he doesn’t give her an answer.

She scowls at his lack of participation, and redirects her attention back to her list, tapping her pencil against her lips.

“Hmm… sometimes cookies have peanut butter, even if they say don’t, and I know lots of people have peanut allergies, sooooo… I’ll go with chips,” she decides, resolute. Her tongue pokes out when she makes a careful, neat checkmark next to the word chips.

She crawls off the bed and skips around the room for a little while longer, clutching her notepad, chattering to herself, mostly. She plays with the books on the bookshelf, all the little knickknacks left behind by the previous owner, rearranging them while she talks, musing about how cool this party’s gonna be, how many friends she’s gonna make. It’s gonna be great.

She lays down on the floor to make some snow-angels on the carpet, flapping her arms and legs slowly, staring up at the ceiling, feeling her energy start to wane. She asks Mr. J if he thinks she should wear her regular clothes to the party, or if she should come dressed in her PJs? And doesn’t he think they’re really pretty? And her sleeping bag comes with a built-in pillow, and isn’t that super cool?

She jolts awake when a pair of arms slip underneath her, hoisting her up, off the floor. She must have fallen asleep.

She frantically blinks the sleep back from her eyes. It’s dark, and she can’t see. “What day is it?” she asks, panicked, her voice cracking. “Is it tomorrow yet? Did I miss the party?”

“Shhh.” Mr. J carries her the short distance to his bed, lowers her to the mattress even as she wraps her arms around his neck, refusing to be put down. She doesn’t even have the forethought to marvel over the fact that he’s just put her in his bed, that she’s lying down on his pillow, or that the covers smell like him.

“But did I miss it? Is it over?”

She thinks she can hear a smirk in his voice when he says, “No, baby doll, you didn’t miss it. Time to sleep.”

He peels her arms away from his neck, and this time she lets him. She sinks into the mattress, and sinks quickly back into sleep.

#anonymous #asks #Burn #Taylor #new update #it's not finished yet but I just wanted to update with what I have to so far :)

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ivyprism · 3 years

Text

The Anons and the Rat (A Ratsoh Harem Fanfic) It IS SHORT

Ratsoh was stressed out because of her job. After all, she was a teacher. She was having a particularly bad day on this particular day. All she wanted to do was get home and hope for the best for her... It's a harem of anons, they just showed up at her house one day and have been living with her for days. With ChaoticSwitch nearly burning down the house with their passion and Birdie flirting or generally being a sweetheart, she could barely afford the house. She was just hoping for something nice to happen today. She wiped her drenched fur because it had started raining while she was walking home and she had tripped over her feet. She reached her house. She could hear the sound of laughter coming from inside of it. She grabbed the door and slowly entered.

"I'm home-" The aroma of hot cocoa and pasta filled the room, which surprised Ratsoh. She blinked as she noticed Birdie peering out the doorway, a grin on their face. Birdie was dressed in an apron that said "kiss the cook." ChaoticSwitch was drinking chocolate while watching videos on the couch. Poet was in the corner reciting Shakespeare or some random nonsense. Holy was next to ChaoticSwitch watching over their shoulder. In the kitchen, Seagull was eating hot dogs. Shuffle sat in another chair, crossing their arms. Spider was sitting while reading some things on their phone with a shy aura. Wisp was beside Poet, listening to whatever the heck they were saying.

"Welcome back!" says Birdie. Birdie smiles cheerfully as she approaches. They were humming and stirring some sauce at the same time. ChaoticSwitch smiled flirtatiously.

"Hey." ChaoticSwitch greeted them, and Birdie laughed. "I've been looking for you, it's the love of my life." ChaoticSwitch flirted, causing Ratsoh to blink at them. Holy suddenly pulled out their spray bottle and sprayed ChaoticSwitch. ChaoticSwitch hisses and covers their face with their hands.

"Welcome back. When Birdie called, they noticed you were upset, so they decided to do something nice for you." Holy simply stated as they handed Ratsoh a cup of cocoa. Ratsoh took a seat beside them. ChaoticSwitch wrapped their arm loosely around Ratsoh's shoulders. Spider took a look at their hands before shuffled over. They were clutching something to their chest before handing over a Papyrus plushie.

"Huh? What's this?" Ratsoh inquired, turning her gaze to Spider.

"I, uh... I wanted to give you this because you were having a bad day..." Spider stated shyly before hurrying back to where they were. ChaoticSwitch casually placed a blanket over Ratsoh's shoulders to keep them warm. Ratsoh blinked at them, and they smiled back.

"You're lucky your clothes are mostly dry, a blanket will help warm you up. Like my passion for you." ChaoticSwitch flirted before Poet looked over and sighed.

"I'm sorry you had a bad day. Here." Poet offered Ratsoh a change of clothes. They looked away. "I-It's not like I care or anything. I just don't want to lose this house over my head." Poet, the tsundere, mumbled and Ratsoh could tell they were concerned, but they were too tsundere to fight. They sat down and averted their gaze. Wisp gave a thumbs up and waved as Anon's magic miraculously changed Ratsoh's clothing. Wisp accepts the clothing with a shy grin.

"I'll go ahead and wash these. You warm-up." Wisp simply stated, and they walked into the other room before Ratsoh could respond.

"Woah! Did anyone see that?!" Birdie exclaimed from the kitchen. Poet, who was miraculously keeping an eye on the kitchen, gave them a thumbs up. Ratsoh had no idea what they had done, but Birdie had to be proud of it.

"Here.." Ratsoh drew her attention back to Shuffle. They were sitting in their jackets, leaning back in their chair. Ratsoh had to tilt their head up really far because they were so tall and lanky. They slid their jackets over Ratsoh's shoulders, further warming her up. "It's just cause you were cold." Shuffle sat down again, crossing their arms. Seagull had somehow gotten into the living room. Ratsoh quickly declined Seagull's offer of a hot dog they had. In response, the seagull shrugged and continued to eat.

"This is nice..." Ratsoh sighed as the anons conversed quietly amongst themselves. Ratsoh was comfortable and warm, and he was having a much better time than she had previously. Suddenly, a plate was spaghetti. It looked delicious and Ratsoh looked up. Birdie gave another grin before sitting down beside Wisp on the other side.

"I thought we could brighten your day because I thought you were having a bad day." Birdie gave a sheepish smile before winking at Ratsoh. "And if your day is bad, mine is, too." Birdie smiled, and Ratsoh reciprocated.

"Thanks, Birdie... Everyone..." Ratsoh smiled and took the food from their hands. She could hear ChaoticSwitch and Poet yelling at each other. Birdie is attempting to calm Poet down. Wisp was chanting "Grumpy Poet," which irritated Poet even more. While attempting to calm Poet, Birdie was flirting with ChaoticSwitch. Holy was spraying holy water on ChaoticSwitch when their kinks got mixed in or the flirts got a bit risque. Seagull was laughing their ass off while secretly stealing food from the other anons. Shuffle was there, sitting and staring numbly as they continued to fight. Poet eventually calmed down and Birdie reassured them. She chuckled as ChaoticSwitch and Birdie began to flirt, with Ratsoh as the judge. It was loud and obnoxious. Ratsoh continued to eat as she observed her fighting roommates while trying to decide who is the better flirt-master.

Yet... For some reason... She wouldn't change a single thing.

@ratsoh-writes is this good? It's REALLY short, but it's fluffy and soft. I'll get to the headcanons lmao.

#Fluff #thIS IS SO SHORT #I PROMISE WHEN I HAVE INSPIRATION I'LL REWRITE IT #THIS IS THE ONLY FOOD I CAN GIVE #I #I promise I'll write the headcanons #This is just for one-shot lovers

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