#a golden boy needs his cuddles

[blorbocedes]

a compilation of max interrupting christian's interviews to get his post race hug -- and the one time christian does the same 🥰

[pupkashi]

gojo can’t wait to marry you, but he will for the sake of one folder in his phone

a/n: i want to marry gojo, sue me!

wordcount: 703

masterlist

satoru would take your engagement ring everywhere he goes with you. he’d have it stuffed in his pants pockets or jacket and you never once suspect a thing.

he’d have so many pictures of you turned around and him holding the ring right behind you, clueless as to what the man you loved was holding a mere foot away from you.

there’s pictures of the two of you at home, making dinner, cuddling in bed, cleaning, teaching the students, at the beach, on a walk, on dates, literally anywhere anytime, and all of them have the beautiful ring in the velvet box, wide open and facing the camera as you stare in the opposite direction, oblivious.

he’d always try his luck, but he was cocky enough to somehow always get away with it, only once almost getting caught when you turned around faster than he thought you would, but you were too amazed with the fireworks to notice him throwing the small box into the bushes next to him (he then had to act like he lost his phone to go and pick the box up again).

there’s a chilly breeze that picks up over the two of you as you scoot closer together under the reds and pinks of the sunset, the grass around the two of you rustling with the wind, clouds floating peacefully.

you’re getting up and grabbing a blanket from the picnic basket, back facing satoru. “thank god we brought these blankets! I didn’t expect it to get so chilly so quickly,” you sighed, fingers melting into the plush fabric of the blanket.

satoru is quick the pull the box out of his sweater pocket, snapping the picture and ready to put it away before you turned around.

time seemed to freeze in the seconds that he took to look at you, radiating and glowing in the suns golden rays, the world painting you in all its colors. maybe it was the sounds of the birds singing or the pair of butterflies that flew past you. or maybe it was the overwhelming sense of love and home that he felt in the moment.

satoru didn’t move, he stayed on one knee, the box wide open and facing you as you turned around.

“i love you, sweetheart,” he smiles, the look on your face knocks the wind out of him as his cheeks begin to hurt a bit from how wide he’s smiling, “i knew after we’d been dating for six months that you were the person i want to spend my life with, that you were all I’d ever wanted and all I’d ever need.”

there’s tears welling in your eyes as he continues to talk, heartfelt words and vulnerability as his hands shake slightly. your mouth is still covered by your hands, mouth slightly agape from shock as your heart beats out of your chest.

maybe it was the swans swimming in the lake besides you, maybe it was the two butterflies from before landing on his shoulder before fluttering off again. or maybe it was the way the sun painted him golden, his blue eyes staring at you, snowy bangs falling perfectly on his forehead, your body warm with love as you nod your head when he finally asks the question.

“will you marry me?” his voice is a lot less confident than usual, a relieved laugh leaving him when you engulf him in a hug, your face burying itself in his neck as before pulling away and crashing your lips onto his.

“of course I’ll marry you angel boy,” you laugh, sniffling a bit as he wipes the tears from your face, taking your hand in his and slipping the ring on.

you can’t help but admire the way it looked on your finger, it was everything you’d ever dreamed of. soon enough you’re staring back into satoru’s blue eyes, giggling as you cup his cheeks and bring his lips to yours, laughing when he grabs you by the waist and spins your around.

he shows you the folder of pictures later that night, and you can’t even be mad at him. not when you realize he had bought the ring the day after your six months.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[avival]

Cutie rookie!Leon, who at first feels his heart pounding just lookin at you, just watching how pretty you are, even if you're older than him. Even if he doesn't know you yet at the cop station.

Cutie rookie!Leon, that feels his cock twitching just listening to your beautiful voice 'nd wants you to ruin him, while you talk to him — you can't even imagine what was going on inside his perverted mind.

Cutie rookie!Leon, who gets distracted by your pretty lips, by your scent and also your breasts on that tank top.

Cutie rookie!Leon, even flustered and shy, wants to talk with you, get to you and just can't stop imagining how you'd be perfect with your ass shaking and bouncing on his face, his pretty nose rubbing through your clit, swallowing all your juicy's.

Cutie rookie!Leon, getting sooo sad cuz' you're not giving him attention properly.

Cutie rookie!Leon gets excited when you ask him "Do you wanna go out or something?" and obviously he wants to, he's fascinated by you.

Cutie rookie!Leon, who jerks off thinking about you, secretly, he needs you so bad, he feels so guilty thinking about you like this, but he can't control himself.

Cutie rookie!Leon, who acts like a Golden Retriever when you realize he likes you, you think is cute and he's hot... Taller, bigger, stronger and has a massive dumb big cock.

Cutie rookie!Leon, that feels his dry throat just listening to you saying "Oh— your cock is so big, how… oh, I want it so bad inside of me, Leon. Will you fuck me? Will you milky your mommy's cunt?"

Cutie rookie!Leon, who’s always asking for cuddlefucking you, he thinks your tits' will be perfect with his cum.

Cutie rookie!Leon, who gets a boner just listening to you saying "Pretty boy!","Such a good goofy puppy f'me".

Cutie rookie!Leon, that just cum with you praising him.

Cutie rookie!Leon, that is needy of your pretty dripping pussy, he wants to pound into you, fill you up with his load.

Cutie rookie!Leon that's so done that he sleeps with you giving him cuddles.

[gaypirate420]

Little sound // Jasper W. Hale

Jasper Whitlock Hale x male!reader.

Summary: You question vampiric sleep while Jasper makes a little sound.

A/N: Breaking Dawn Jasper deserves more love, me thinks.

Angst/Fluff.

"Which pillow do you want?" You asked him while you made space for him on your bed, Jasper pointed to your thighs.

"These ones, please." He spoke with a smirk, you chuckled and take off the blanket that lay over your legs.

The blonde vampire smiled and he went down, placing kisses on your thighs before he opened them gently and lie down his head on your stomach.

Jasper seemed tired, mentally at least. You're not sure if vampires get sore muscles or something like that but he needed to lie down and relax, it was evident from a mile away.

The vampire sighed heavily, his cold breath hitting you, his hands quickly got to caress your warm skin.

"I missed you." You spoke softly as your hand got to his recently cut hair.

"I know, I'm sorry, been busy with— Bella." Jasper scoffed.

Tired, he was so incredibly tired, done even, done with everything and it made you sad because it was something out of your human control and comprehension.

"What's with her?" You asked curious about his reaction, it was very out of character from his part.

"She got turned, darlin'— she just— has this crazy control over her newborn instincts. It's impressive— but-" He said bitter, almost angry, not angry no, jealous.

"But— Am I not trying hard enough? Or I'm just unfixable?" Jasper asked softly, very softly almost like he didn't meant to say that, his tongue betrayed him completely and revealed his thoughts.

"I think you're trying hard— the hardest you can— you have come a long way, Jasper. I'm proud of you." You spoke serious. The vampire stayed silent while his finger stroke your skin.

You stroke his hair, you felt how his body got weak in an instant and a sigh left his lips.

"I missed you so much, my darlin'." He whispered and his cold lips kissed your thigh, you giggled at the sensation but he continued.

Despite the fact that he's been talking to you everyday and bringing you flowers every weekend, it didn't felt like that because he hasn't had the opportunity to stay.

To be with his darling, his most special boy.

You looked down at him, his golden eyes looked up, you bopped his nose and he chuckled.

"Pretty." You whispered and bopped his cheek, Jasper smirked, his cold hand went up.

"Handsome." He whispered back and bopped your cheek, you mimicked his smirk and lean down to kiss his forehead.

Your fingers returned to stroke his hair, he took deep breaths, useless for his body but at least the illusion seem to help.

Jasper closed his eyes, letting his mind relax, melting comfortably under your touch and resting on your soft thighs.

You stayed silent, playing with his hair and caressing his pale face from time to time.

Vampires can't sleep, at least that's what Jasper told you but you have a theory that maybe they enter a deep meditating state.

Because there's no explanation for the level of calmness Jasper seems to be in when you cuddle with him. He's sleeping in your mind, resting along side with you.

The vampire sometimes even moves like one would do when asleep, losing or tightening his grip on you, mumbling things and everything. It was fascinating and comforting knowing he felt so much peace with you.

——————————————————————

One of your hands was busy stroking his hair while the other scrolled through your phone.

It's been probably an hour or two, you looked down at Jasper, you smiled softly at the image that lied infront of you.

He's asleep, call yourself stubborn because nothing could convince you otherwise, probably when you become a vampire yourself you'll understand, but right now, he's sleeping, completely asleep.

There's just no way that the man laying between your thighs is wide awake.

You stopped everything you were doing when you noticed a sound. A small and soft sound.

It's coming from Jasper.

You smiled and put attention to the small noise. He's snoring? It was a soft rumbling and it stopped the moment your hand didn't stroke his hair.

So you moved your fingers again, and he made that sound, your fingers moved down to his neck and it became louder. You got closer.

He's purring.

He's done this before, but you thought you were making it up.

You stayed silent, shooked, enjoying this moment, and discreetly recording it with your phone, the purr was very soft, you don't think Jasper is even aware his body is having this reaction.

You could feel the soft vibrations of his chest as he did this soft purring sound.

You kissed his forehead, whispering sweet nothings before you grabbed a blanket and throw it over him, Jasper just snuggled further on your thighs.

He then spoke, and his words were drowsy, sleepy mumbling.

"I love you." The vampire spoke softly, you kept stroking his hair and he kept making that soft purring.

"I love you too, cowboy." You whispered back with a smile on your face.

"I- have things to do, darlin'." He whispered when he noticed the blanket, he opened his eyes but close them again almost immediately.

You suppressed your comment about him not allowing himself to rest and have a nice moment.

"Shhhh, you have centuries left to do whatever you want. Just rest now. Sleep, it's okay." You spoke softly, Jasper shaked his head but didn't move an inch.

"Vampires can't sleep, doll." He protested with a slight slurry voice, you chuckled and rolled your eyes playfully.

"Sure thing, Jazz." You said, he placed a kiss on your thigh before he returned to continue his 'no sleep'.

--------------------------------------------------

A/N: heyyyyy how y'all doing? Hope you liked this!

[stevebabey]

The drip in the roof of the trailer is what wakes Steve.

A steady plink! of water meeting wood somewhere above them. It always leaks a little in the trailer after it rains, like a gentle metronome of fat raindrops sneaking inside the cracks. While it used to annoy him, Steve just finds it soothing now.

The curtains Eddie had poorly shut the night before are askew just an inch, letting through a sliver of sunlight. A beam sneaks through, makes the room glow, walls painted golden. Steve revels in it and it’s warmth; lets out a yawn and stretches like a big cat, giving a soft groan as he does.

His elbow knocks into Eddie’s side as he does and Steve feels the familiar rush in his chest, fond affection filling every vein— and he loves it.

He loves that momentarily forgetfulness born from his sleepiness, where he forgets that he gets to wake up with someone by his side. Wake up next to Eddie, no less.

Steve loves it, adores it, because really what it means is he gets to remember it every morning.

He gets to roll closer and poke Eddie gently on the cheek, a small smidge of him just wanting to check if he’s real. If this, this love, is real and his. Eddie lets out a groggy groan, buries his face further in the pillow. Steve grins. Yep, he’s real.

Eddie makes another groggy noise and this time pulls his face out of his pillow slowly. He looks like a disgruntled cat, hair still stuck to his cheek, some small patch of drool left on the pillow. Eddie makes a soft ‘hmph!’ and one hand reaches up, wiping across his face lazily. His eyes peek open.

And as much as Steve loves his own secret moment in the morning, it’s blown out of the water by this every time — the moment Eddie sees him. Brown eyes see him and Eddie just softens. Like butter in the sun. Sinks further into his pillow and smiles, sleepy and wonderful.

Normally, they both let sleep comes and go, drifting across the sheets in half-hearted cuddles that Steve melts for every time. Today, Eddie’s smile grows into a happy grin. Then his hands are stretching out and he’s making small grabby hands across the sheets, urging his boyfriend over.

“C’mere,” he says, hands finding Steve’s side and pulling him, soft. “Gimme.”

Steve grins, heart flip-flopping. Goes without any resistance, shifting to snuggle up to Eddie, tucking up and under his chin as Eddie’s does his best to scoop him up in his arms. It’s warm. Eddie’s pulse is a small comfort to Steve as he rests his head upon Eddie’s chest, hands curled around his middle, thumbing at soft scar tissue. Thump-thump-thump, Eddie’s heart says, and Steve can somehow easily read the love in it; his stomach turns again, in a dizzy elated way.

“Mm, birthday boy,” Eddie hums, but he’s still so sleepy that birthday sounds more like birfday. Steve feels his heart jump in surprise — a moment in which he’s baffled Eddie knows. That Eddie remembers. The last couple birthdays… well, he hadn’t been friends with Robin til after his birthday in ‘85 and then, well, with everything in ‘86… It’s been awhile since someone has remembered is all.

He doesn’t mean to sound as surprised he does when he murmurs, “You remembered?”

Eddie hums again, a sweet loving noise. His arms around Steve tighten and Steve feels his heart keen when his lips brush across Steve’s temple. A gentle kiss is pressed there. It feels like everything he needs — this quiet small moment of wonder, a tiny moment of tenderness, just for Steve. He presses his own kiss back, lips against Eddie’s collarbone.

“S’look,” Eddie continues, dragging his arm off Steve to point somewhere on the wall. Steve follows his gaze and then— there it is, on Eddie’s calendar. Circled in red is April 29th. It’s covered in sloppy hearts, so much there’s no room for any word other than ‘Steve!!’ in the middle; his birthday. Marked so Eddie would remember, wouldn’t even dare the chance to forget it.

Eddie drops his arm, returning it to where it was, hooked over Steve’s side so his hand can run soothing soft touches down his back. He sighs again, another sleepy noise, and Steve could probably cry.

“Precious birthday boy, mm,” Eddie mumbles lovingly. “Lovely precious birthday boy,” he warbles on, voice gooey enough that Steve know he means it. Actually thinks that— that he’s precious, and lovely, and everything more. “What d’ya wanna do t’day?”

Steve tightens his cuddle and whispers, “Just this.”

He can feel Eddie’s grin, in response, and then there’s another kiss to his head. Just this. It’s the complete truth.

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✩࿐

pairings: alhaitham, kaveh, kazuha, lyney, scaramouche, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)

content: fluff, modern au, college au, the reader is a sleep-deprived student, correction: everyone in this fic is a sleep-deprived student, cuddling, reader is sick in scara’s, venti makes a cameo in kazuha’s part, reverse comfort in kaveh’s

summary: small scenarios with the genshin boys as your roommates! ♡

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while, so i decided to finally finish it up. i hope you enjoy!

₊˚ପ ALHAITHAM

Tonight, it feels like endless night ebbs and flows into the very core of your being, chilling you with fragments of a glacial atmosphere.

It’s cold.

Even with multiple blankets wrapped around you, you can’t help but shiver, shake like a vibrant autumn leaf in a passing zephyr. Winter is approaching, and unfortunately for you, you may have relished a little too much in the gilded threads of summer warmth that had graced the world a few months prior. For now, you’re unable to stand the gradual freeze that’s beginning to spread throughout your city.

Slumber is tempting. It lures you in, wrapping you in a blanket weaved of starlight and dreams. However, it’s all an illusion. In reality, you’re far from sleep. You know that there’s no way you’ll be able to pass the gateway into the oneiric realm. Not with the sensation of frostbite threatening to consume you whole.

Eventually, you decide to get up. You’re certain that you won’t be able to fall asleep, at least, not without more blankets, so you decide to make your way to Alhaitham’s room to ask if he has any spares.

Although you’d normally feel guilty for rousing someone from slumber, it’s not that late as of right now. Either way, you’re quite certain that your roommate is still wide awake, most likely losing himself amongst the yellowed pages of a verbose book. After all, he always seems to have his nose buried in a complex tome, filled with words that make your brain hurt.

Slowly, you drag yourself out from under the plush covers of your bed. The floorboards groan slightly as you stand, exhaling under the pressure of your footsteps. You make your way down a hallway drowned in shades of midnight, making your way towards the golden light seeping out into the corridor from under the cracks of a closed door.

The door to Alhaitham’s room.

You knock, the sound seemingly echoing down the walls of the hall, repeating in a chorus of onomatopoeia.

A few seconds pass before the door opens to reveal Alhaitham. Strands of silver hair messily frame his face, and yet as the aquamarine hues of his irises meet your gaze, you find that he’s just as dazzling as ever.

“Do you need something?” he asks, his voice as flat and monotonous as always. As usual, your roommate’s front doesn’t betray a single hint of emotion. Not even irritation.

You pause for a moment, still a little intimidated by Alhaitham. Although you’ve been living together for a while now, his apathetic demeanour can be slightly off-putting at times. Nonetheless, you eventually manage to steel your nerves.

“Yeah,” you say. The word comes tumbling out of your mouth like the iridescent droplets of a waterfall. “Do you happen to have any extra blankets?”

Alhaitham pauses for a moment, seemingly deep in thought.

You hold your breath, hoping that he’ll say yes, and you’ll be able to get this over with.

However, he shakes his head, and you feel your heart drop, shattering into a thousand shards of fragmented ruby.

“Oh,” you sigh, trying your best to hide the dejected expression overtaking your features. “That’s okay. Sorry for bothering you.” 

You turn away, ready to head back to your room, but Alhaitham’s voice stops you.

“I think it’s safe to presume you wanted a blanket because you were cold, right?”

It’s a rhetorical question, so you don’t bother to answer it. Instead, you freeze, becoming akin to a stunning statue carved of pale blue ice.

“Then allow me to propose an alternate solution.”

You turn around, meeting Alhaitham’s eyes once more. Lakes of turquoise, typically devoid of emotion, are now filled with a particular spark. You can’t quite determine what it is, but there’s a subtle glimmer — barely visible, but it’s there.

“Why don’t you stay in my room for the night?”

Your eyes widen, and you feel your jaw drop. For a moment, you just stand there, absolutely still and dumbfounded.

Perhaps you had heard Alhaitham wrong. Or maybe your mind is playing tricks on you, making mirages materialize out of nothing. The blank expression painted over your roommate’s features certainly makes you think so.

“Excuse me?” you blink languidly, staring at Alhaitham as if he’ll disappear into thin air if you take your eyes off him.

“I said why don’t you stay in my room for the night?” he repeats nonchalantly, the evening chill seemingly intertwining itself into his tone. His gaze remains fixated on you.

Your mind blanks for a second, each intricate acrylic line of a composition painted over, leaving you with nothing but an empty canvas. As you stand still, a thousand scenarios seem to flash through your head, filling up the blank space with a myriad of thoughts — some pleasant and some unpleasant. However, you soon realize that you don’t have time to weigh all the pros and cons of your decision, as Alhaitham is staring at you intently, awaiting your answer.

“Sure,” you blurt out.

You’re not sure what compels you to accept his proposal. Perhaps it’s your longing for the comfort of shared warmth. Perhaps it’s a result of your inability to say no to others due to a fear of disappointing them. Or perhaps it’s because you’ve grown a lot closer to Alhaitham than you’d care to admit.

Although you’re still slightly intimidated by him, you’re certain that he’d never do anything to harm you. And there are even times where he shows he has your best interests in mind (despite the fact that you were initially under the impression that he cared little for others).

You’re snapped out of your trance of reminiscence as Alhaitham speaks once more.

“Alright,” he says, taking your hand and leading you over to his bed. His grip is firm — not suffocating, but at the same time, not so soft that the connection between the two of you would be easily severed.

Alhaitham’s touch sends butterflies, tinted a colour reminiscent of spring blossoms, dancing within the pit of your stomach. It’s enchanting, and at this rate, you’re not sure how you’ll be able to handle sleeping in the same bed as him.

He allows you to climb into bed first, tucking you in with an unexpected amount of care. You know Alhaitham’s not exactly the cold-hearted jerk many make him out to be, but you didn’t anticipate that he’d be this gentle, his touch akin to the caress of sunlight on a spring day.

After the man ensures that you’re cozy, he lies down beside you, embracing you. As he does so, you feel a wave of heat overwhelm you. To your relief, the frigidness that had once gnawed at your very soul is now gone, but unfortunately, you’re faced with a new problem.

Alhaitham’s actions have flustered you, and to your misfortune, it feels as though crimson embers of embarrassment are transforming into flames far too quickly for your liking.

You’ve solved one issue, but in turn, you’ve accidentally created another.

This is going to be a long night.

₊˚ପ KAVEH

It’s no secret that your roommate is a perfectionist.

Whenever his eyebrows knit up in a jumble of discontent and pools of liquid ruby tinged with sunsets glint with hints of frustration, it becomes obvious what’s going on. He’s spent too long trying to perfect yet another assignment. The bags that seem to perpetually line the undersides of his eyes are dark shadows — serving as an eternal reminder to the man’s exhaustion.

There are times where you find him hunched over his desk, teetering on a thin tightrope, walking a line between the waking world and a wonderland of dreams. Of course, he refuses to succumb to the temptations of a golden slumber time and time again, forcing himself to fixate on his projects until he’s finished and happy with the final product.

Today is one of those days. The cold light that leaks through the cracks beneath the door to Kaveh’s room seeps into the hallway, serving as a warning written in a display of molten opalescence.

Stark white. Cutting through the darkness of deep midnights with ease.

It’s jarring, and when you press your ear to the door and listen carefully, you manage to make out the sound of Kaveh muttering underneath his breath.

You know you have to do something. Now. Before your roommate decides to work himself half to death again.

You take a deep breath, inhaling night air reminiscent of the crystalline waters. It’s refreshing, and as you breathe out, a sense of tranquility washes over you.

Steeling yourself, you knock on Kaveh’s door, the sound seemingly reverberating through the corridor in a myriad of echoes.

“[Name]? Is that you?” he asks, his voice ringing out loudly, fragmenting and shattering the quiet ambience. 

You hear the sounds of drawers opening and closing, papers rustling, and footsteps falling.

“There’s no point in hiding anything,” you tell your roommate, picturing the distress swirling like nebulae in his vibrant crimson eyes. “I know you’ve been working late again.”

The noises come to a halt, and peace returns to the late night atmosphere once more. Soon, the sound of soft footsteps fill your senses, gradually growing louder in a crescendo until you’re sure that Kaveh is right in front of the door.

And then it swings open to reveal a sleep-looking Kaveh clad in pyjamas.

“Alright, I’ll admit it,” he sighs. “You caught me red-handed.”

Silence permeates your senses for a few seconds, but the illusion of stillness is quickly shattered as Kaveh breathes out a sigh.

“I just can’t seem to figure out this one last thing,” he groans, burying his head in his hands. “I seriously can’t take it anymore. It’s driving me insane.”

For a few seconds, his gaze remains averted, staring down at the wooden finish of his desk, tinted a subtle peach under the topaz shades of light spilling from Kaveh’s lamp. If you didn’t know any better, you would have sworn that he had fallen asleep. However, your eyes eventually meet hues of dulled rose, glittering with a faint spark concealed by exhaustion.

“You should rest,” you tell your roommate, cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder. To your relief, he doesn’t flinch or pull away when you touch him. He simply slumps and begins to stand up.

“I suppose you’re right,” he speaks slowly, his voice laced with resignation. “Perhaps a short break will help me clear my mind.”

Kaveh walks over to his bed, brushing locks of sunshine that threaten to obscure his vision away from his eyes. The mattress sinks like quicksand as he lies down and tucks himself under the covers, enveloping him in layers upon layers of plush comfort.

You turn away, switching Kaveh’s lamp off before you head back to the door. However, just as you’re about to leave, Kaveh calls your name.

“[Name],” Kaveh starts, his voice seemingly amplified by the abyssal midnight overtaking your surroundings.

You spin around, only to be met with the sight of Kaveh’s silhouette outlined against backdrops of navy and black, enveloping the world in curtains of phantasmagoric silk.

“Can you stay with me?” he asks. His voice trembles slightly, and he sounds sheepish — almost shy. “It’s just that, if I don’t have you around, I might convince myself to start working again.”

You freeze.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

It takes three seconds for you to fully process Kaveh’s request, and when you do, you feel your heart skip a beat.

“I would be happy to.”

And with Kaveh’s permission, you climb under the covers of his bed with him. He wraps an arm around you. The position feels far too intimate for two roommates who harbour nothing more than platonic feelings for each other, but you decide that that’s a problem for future you to address.

For now, you decide to close your eyes and seek solace in a realm of breathtaking dreamscapes. Finding joy in each cotton candy cloud, each droplet of crystal rain, and each gilded leaf within a fantastical world found far away from reality.

And yet as you drift off to sleep, you find that there’s one thing in the waking world that has become far more tantalizing than anything your imagination could ever conjure: the warmth of Kaveh’s embrace.

₊˚ପ KAZUHA

Golden ribbons of warmth caress your face as you open your eyes to find yourself awake again. A wave of tranquility washes over you, weighing down your eyelids with a serene lullaby — an ode to quiet mornings spent in the solace of your home. You want nothing more than to stay in bed for a few more minutes, but you have classes.

Groggily, you stretch and then pick your phone up from where it’s sitting on your nightstand in order to check the time. The screen lights up with a cold radiance, a stark contrast to the gilded rays of the sun, as you turn it on.

And that’s when all hell breaks loose.

It’s 9:30 a.m., and you’ve already missed the start of your first class. You grimace internally, but you can’t dwell on your feelings for too long. After all, the longer you delay, the more you’ll miss.

You change in record time, pulling on a comfortable hoodie and jeans, grab a few of your belongings, and rush out the door.

The chilly autumn air brushes against your skin as you make your way to class, and the enticing fragrance of sap hits your nose, tantalizing you with a perfume that carries nostalgic memories. In the corners of your vision, you watch as leaves coloured shades of vivid crimson, marigold, and amber swirl in a waltz signaling the end of summer and the beginnings of harsher days. The scenery is beautiful, and if you weren’t in a panic, you would have stopped to admire it. However, you force yourself to ignore the scenes around you, continuing to focus on your primary objective.

When you arrive at the lecture hall, you’re panting. Simple oxygen feels like ambrosia to you, sweet and satisfying, refreshing in a way that it’s never been before. For a few moments, you stand outside the room and catch your breath. With each inhale and exhale, you get closer and closer to finding a rhythm until finally, you’re no longer gasping for air.

Quietly, you walk into class, trying your best to avoid disturbing anyone. Thankfully, nobody seems to notice as you take a seat near the back of the hall, settling down in your seat. Time passes slowly as class continues on, and it almost feels like universal laws operate differently within the small bubble of the room you’re currently sitting in. Everything seems to take an eternity, and you can’t do anything except watch the minutes tick by, each addition of one moving you closer and closer to the end of a mundane lecture.

It feels like the moment will never arrive, but eventually, you’re dismissed. Thankfully, there’s quite a while until you have to go to your next class, so you decide to wander around for a while.

For a while, you stroll aimlessly, eventually finding yourself back outdoors once more. Now, you can truly savour the beauty of your surroundings, relish in the splendor of each flaming leaf that drifts by and each rivulet of tepid light that pierces through the crystalline coolness of the autumn air.

You stand there for a while, simply enjoying a break after a hectic morning.

Until something else — or rather, someone else — catches your eye.

Under the shade of a maple tree stands your roommate, basking in the glory of a crimson waterfall composed entirely of maple leaves dancing gracefully until they hit the ground. His platinum hair is tied back in its usual ponytail, each strand of silken moonlight swaying as a gentle zephyr blows by, and his eyes are a shade of ruby that flawlessly mimics the autumnal landscape.

He’s as breathtaking as ever.

But before you can admire him for long, hues of starglitter and rose petals meet your gaze, and a small smile dances across his lips. Without a word, he walks over to you.

“Running into you here is certainly a pleasant surprise,” he says, his grin widening.

“You say that as if we don’t already live together,” you remark, laughing a little.

He chuckles, the sound as light and airy as autumn winds swirling leaves around in a waltz of farewells. The lighthearted atmosphere is truly euphoric, especially after such a stressful morning.

Of course, good things never last for long.

“Good morning, Kazuha. Good morning, [name]. How’s my favourite couple?” a cheery voice asks. In the edges of your vision, you see a figure donning twin braids of sapphire and turquoise approaching. It’s Venti — one of Kazuha’s friends.

Both you and Kazuha freeze, a frigidity crystallizing the ambience into icy fractals. And yet at the same time, you can feel your face beginning to heat up.

Couple?

Before you can clear up the misunderstanding, Kazuha speaks.

“Good morning to you too, Venti,” he says. “We’re doing well, but I’m afraid you’re mistaken.” Kazuha subtly averts his gaze, staring at the ground, but you swear you can see a blush dawning on his cheeks in shades of sunset. “[Name] and I aren’t a couple.”

“Oh really?” Venti asks teasingly, giggling in a manner that sounds almost maniacal, “then why are they wearing your hoodie?”

You look down, and sure enough, the top you chose to wear today was Kazuha’s. He had allowed you to borrow it a few days ago when you complained about the chilly autumn weather, and you had forgotten to return it. Apparently you were in such a rush this morning that you pulled it on without a second thought.

“It was an accident,” you blurt out, wanting to clear up the misconception as soon as possible. “I woke up late, and I was in a hurry.”

“Uh huh,” Venti nods, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Sure. I believe you.”

“No, seriously. We’re not a couple,” you reiterate, sighing as Venti laughs quietly.

“Whatever you say,” he says. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be. I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.”

Without another word, Venti skips off, jubilantly humming to himself. And now, you’re alone with Kazuha, left to deal with the awkward aftermath of Venti’s assumptions.

“That was… interesting,” you remark.

Kazuha nods.

“I hope you didn’t feel too uncomfortable,” he says, smiling at you gently, a light blush still coating his cheeks. Although you’ll never admit it out loud, you find him quite cute when he’s flustered. Venti would have a field day if he knew you found your roommate so adorable.

“I’m fine,” you reassure Kazuha, “and I’ll return your hoodie to you as soon as possible,” you add.

However, to your surprise, Kazuha shakes his head.

“You can keep it if you want,” he tells you.

“Really?”

Kazuha chuckles.

“Really,” he assures you. “As long as you don’t mind being mistaken for a couple, that is. I know I certainly don’t.”

₊˚ପ LYNEY

“Lyney, if I remember correctly, you told me you perform magic as a sort of side hustle, right?” you ask your roommate.

The question is out of the blue, but you want nothing more than to learn about the man you’ve recently grown to be infatuated with. Besides, he’ll probably think nothing of it. After all, it’s only natural for someone to want to get to know their roommate anyway.

“Yeah, I guess you’d be right,” he responds, averting his gaze from his phone and glancing at you. “Although I’d say it’s more about putting on a good show than the money.”

Lilac hues make your mind go blank as you make eye contact, enchanting you with oceans full of stardust and sunshine alike. Lilac. It’s a colour you’ve come to adore. Before meeting Lyney, it was a shade known to you as the border between night and day, mixed into compositions of dawning sunrises and fading sunsets. But now, it’s synonymous with magic and mystery, and it’s all thanks to your charming roommate.

“Oh, I see,” you mutter.

You’re surprised that your voice doesn’t end up shaking. Simply looking into Lyney’s eyes is causing your heart to beat rapidly, igniting crimson sparks of giddiness and glee with each thump.

Perhaps this is what it feels like to be in love.

“Why do you ask?” Lyney inquires, tilting his head slightly. “Are you interested in seeing a trick?”

Lyney flashes a charming smile at you — a smile embodying the enigmatic charms of various twilight hues. He reaches his hand up to brush the few strands of dusky hair that had fallen in front of his eyes away, and somehow, the subtle action makes you find him all the more attractive.

“I would love to,” you say, “if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

You wait with bated breath, feeling the whole world still as you await Lyney’s response. The carefree atmosphere solidifies into something denser, heavier, as tension begins to build.

“Well, I usually don’t do private shows like this, especially not out of the blue,” he remarks.

For a second, you feel your smile fall.

“But since it’s you, I can try,” Lyney says.

A grins dances upon your lips once more, and the elation from before comes back in full force. Unbridled adoration swirls through your heart, taking down each and every glacial barrier in a roaring tempest of rose and vermillion. With every day that passes, you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper into the clutches of romantic fantasies.

“Thank you.”

With that, Lyney rushes to his room. A few seconds later, he returns with some props and a top hat, midnight black adorned with velvety scarlet and magenta detailing, perched upon his head.

He performs for you, and it’s absolutely enamouring. His prowess is incredible, and it’s clear he’s enjoying putting on a show for you. The entire performance is interesting, captivating. However, it’s Lyney’s last act that stands out to you most of all.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what my grand finale will be,” Lyney announces with a fiery sort of flamboyance. It’s amusing because you’re the only audience member, but at the same time, slightly endearing.

He takes his hat off, reaching his hand into the void within. Slowly, he pulls something out.

The verdant green of a stem lined with thorns appears first. Then you catch sight of luscious leaves. And lastly, the delicate petals of a rose enter your line of vision. They’re tinted a vibrant purple, reminiscent of sparkling amethysts.

“For you,” Lyney says, handing you the flower.

Upon closer examination, you note that the rose is unblemished. It’s perfect. You wonder if Lyney put any thought into picking out this particular flower, but you brush the thought off. Embers of newly-kindled feelings of romance brush against your skin.

You’re flustered.

Flustered beyond measure.

Awkwardly, you take the rose from Lyney, your heart fluttering as your fingers accidentally bump against his. His skin is soft, and his touch is tantalizing. You wouldn’t mind feeling his hand in yours.

“Thank you,” you manage to whisper, averting your gaze and looking anywhere but into the very lavender irises that will never fail to enchant you. “It’s stunning.”

“A stunning flower for a stunning person,” Lyney says. The sincerity lacing his tone doesn’t go unnoticed, and you have to stop yourself from melting on the spot. “Do you know what the purple rose represents?”

You shake your head as sudden curiosity and cupid’s final arrow strike simultaneously.

He leans in, moving so close that you can feel strands of silken platinum tickle your skin. A soft breath lightly brushes against your ear as he opens his mouth to speak.

“Love at first sight.”

₊˚ପ SCARAMOUCHE

Weak beams of winter light filter through the curtains of the window beside your bed, illuminating your room with a radiance tinted pale blue. With a foggy mind, you make your way over to the window, leaving the warmth and comfort of your covers to do so. The chill pokes at your skin like a thousand miniature needles of ice, and yet you continue on.

As soon as velvety veils of fabric fall away from glass panes, glacial sunshine spills through. The panoramic scenery that welcomes you is a glazed-over landscape, thick blankets of pure white sprinkled with glimmers of stardust. Even the branches of the tall evergreen trees surrounding your home are dusted with powdered opal. Nothing is free from the frigid caress of winter, and you’re suddenly reminded of this fact as you start coughing.

Oh. You’re sick.

You blink slowly, an unbearable headache making itself known by jumbling your thoughts into nothing more than incoherence. Begrudgingly, you decide to lie back down, pulling a few blankets over you in order to stay warm. However, the layer of plush protection isn’t enough to shield you, as shivers continue to wrack your body.

For a while, you just lie there, huddled and trying to cling onto any remaining heat, any remaining comfort. You close your eyes, feeling absolutely helpless against the coolness that threatens to permeate the very essence of your being. The world around you begins to become distant as grogginess and discomfort plague you, but soon enough, you’re snapped out of your haze.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The last thing you want to do is answer the door.

“[Name]? Are you in there?” your roommate, Scaramouche, calls. As usual, irritation laces his tone, but there’s something new this time. Maybe you’re delusional, but it almost sounds like concern.

“Yeah. Come in,” you manage to respond.

Your voice is unsurprisingly hoarse, and you have to strain in order to be heard. However, in the end, it seems that you were just loud enough because seconds later, the door opens with a click. In its wake, a man with hair reminiscent of desolate midnights walks in. Soon enough, you find your gaze meeting hues of deep twilight fading into a paler shade of periwinkle akin to the colour of forget-me-nots.

“Wow, you look awful,” Scaramouche remarks bluntly, examining you.

You feel yourself shrink under his gaze.

“Can you not?” you shoot back, mustering the strength to glare at him between coughs and sniffles. “I'm kind of dying here.”

Scaramouche scoffs.

“Fine. I’ll leave you alone,” he says, turning away and walking out the door.

Once again, silence envelops the atmosphere, ebbing and flowing throughout the greys and blues of an early winter morning in soundless waves. Although you’re thankful for the serene ambience, you also feel awfully lonely now that your roommate is gone. All you can do now is stare blankly at the wall in front of you and entertain yourself with your own thoughts.

Time becomes a blur, and yet it stretches on as well. It feels like you’re trapped in a sort of limbo — suspended in a mundane reality without any sort of respite or the slightest idea of when you’ll finally find your refuge.

That is, until you hear the hinges of the door creak once more.

Scaramouche is back.

You look up. To your surprise, the glints of starlight that dance within his indigo eyes show a rare sort of softness, and he’s carrying a bowl of soup.

Without a word, he sets the bowl on your bedside table, staring at you expectantly.

“Is that for me?” you ask.

Scaramouche groans, rolling his eyes.

“Who did you think it was for?” he says, averting his gaze.

A small smile dances across your lips. Although your roommate doesn’t want to show that he cares for you, you’re beginning to realize that he’s looking out for you in his own way.

“Thank you,” you respond. However, just as you’re about to reach for the soup, you’re attacked by another fit of coughs.

Scaramouche’s eyes fixate on you once more, and he sighs.

“Do you need me to spoon feed you or something?” Although it sounds like he’s mocking you, you can tell he’s serious to some extent.

“Do you want to feed me?” you say, trying to muster a playful tone. Even though you’re sick, teasing Scaramouche is as fun as ever.

“I will if it means you’ll shut up,” he mutters, taking the bowl carefully and scooping up a spoon of the soup.

With caution and a shocking amount of attentiveness, he lifts the spoon to your lips, and you open your mouth. To your surprise, the soup is actually quite tasty. You didn't expect your roommate to be such a good cook.

“How was it?” Scaramouche asks after you swallow. Not a hint of emotion shows through the veils of apathy he’s crafted as he awaits your response.

“It was amazing,” you remark genuinely. “I’d love to try some more of your cooking, and… thanks for taking care of me.”

Scaramouche looks away, but as he does, you notice a colour reminiscent of delicate rose petals rising to his cheeks, tinting porcelain akin to the snow outside a vivid shade.

“Don’t mention it.”

₊˚ପ XIAO

Procrastination is every student’s worst enemy, and you’re no different.

You had spent the past few days putting off your latest assignments and neglecting your studies more than you’d care to admit. It’s not that you didn’t want to work and study, but every time you tried to start on something, you’d feel put off by the copious amounts of labour you’d have to put in. And unfortunately, now you’re reaping the consequences of the seeds you had previously sowed.

It’s currently 1 a.m., and all you can see outside the window is ebony fragmented by the occasional streetlight or polychromatic star. Your eyelids are beginning to droop of their own volition, but you force yourself to stay awake. You have something important due later today, and unfortunately, you’ve barely even started on it.

So you have no choice but to continue on, allowing yourself to fall into the treacherous grasp of sleep-deprivation all because of your poor decision-making skills.

The minutes seem to count down all too quickly as you toil, yet at the same time, the mundane assignment makes every second feel like an eon. It’s a paradoxical distortion of the universe’s concepts, but it’s something you’ve grown far too accustomed to in your time as a student. Panic and hopelessness set in more and more with every tick of the clock, and eventually, you lose all sense of time, burying yourself in a pile of work.

The next time you look up, you notice that it’s well past your first scheduled break time, and you’re absolutely exhausted.

You stand up, stretching and relishing the sensation of being able to move your aching limbs after hours of sitting in the same position, mulling over boring assignments. However, your momentary respite is ruined, as it isn’t long before the creaking of a door pulls you out from the temporary euphoria that had taken over your mind.

“Hey,” a calm voice utters. It’s melodic like a beautiful song you wouldn’t mind hearing on repeat. “Are you alright?”

You turn around, and as expected you’re met with the sight of your roommate. Honeyed eyes filled with a dandelion warmth shimmer when met with the dim incandescent glow of your desk lamp, and locks of seafoam frame his pale face. Even though his hair is messy, and there are visible bags under his eyes, Xiao looks as stunning as ever.

“I’m fine,” you say, miraculously stringing together a couple of words despite your exhaustion.

“You’ve been up all night,” Xiao observes, glancing at your messy desk — a testament to the few hours you had been chipping away at your work. Somehow in that time, you’ve managed to make it look as though some sort of wild tempest had ravaged your room.

“You’re saying that as if you don’t stay up all the time,” you shoot back.

You flinch. Your tone is harsh and dripping with venom, but you hadn’t meant your words in that way. They were from a place of concern, but it seems that Xiao understands.

“That’s true,” he remarks, “but I’m not as keen on working myself to death as you are.”

A second passes.

Then you realized that you may have gotten a little bit carried away due to your momentary burst of energy — a rush of exhilaration prompted by a sense of urgency.

“Oh.”

Xiao sighs.

“You need a break,” he says, hesitantly walking over to you and intertwining your fingers with his.

His actions surprise you. Most of the time, Xiao avoids touch, but now, he’s holding your hand. The tepidness of Xiao’s skin on yours causes lucidity to wash over you. Suddenly, you feel more aware of your surroundings.

Your roommate pulls you out the door, exiting your dorm swiftly before you can refuse. Truthfully, you wouldn’t have denied him his demand anyway. Although Xiao seems like a tough person on the outside, his heart is forged of silvery moonbeams — glittering lights that illuminate the world with a subtle phosphorescence, not quite as glaring as rays of sunlight, but equally as bright, nonetheless. As a result, you’ve grown to develop a soft spot for him.

When you exit the building, the first thing you notice is the crisp, fresh air. After staying cooped up in your room for so long, it’s relieving to breathe in the liquified stardrops dissolved within the night atmosphere. Your head clears up nearly instantaneously, and finally, you feel a sense of peace wash over you.

“Feeling better?” Xiao asks, noticing the change in your expression immediately.

He’s usually not the brightest when it comes to interpreting emotions, so your prior distress must have been extremely obvious. Nonetheless, you brush off your embarrassment and swallow your pride, nodding to reassure Xiao that yes, this is helping, and yes, you’d like to stay here with him for a while longer.

Xiao seems to get what you’re trying to convey, so he continues walking, leading you under the gold-lacquered light of the lamps lining the path before you. Right now, it feels as though your hearts are connected, and for once, you’re under the impression that Xiao’s let down his walls.

You know that once your midnight escapades cease, you’ll have to face a world of pain, but perhaps it’s worth it.

After all, exhaustion is temporary, but maybe, just maybe, this lavender haze will endure forevermore.

thank you for reading!! if you liked this, i’d really appreciate it if you reblogged this fic.

[cosmiiwrites]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ insecure

✧˚ · . adam x fem!reader ✧˚ · .

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ summary: in which you comfort an insecure adam cw: established relationship, fem!reader, reader is an angel, fluff, comfort, occasional cussing, adam being adam, cuddling a/n: he needs more love <3

adam was pissed. both of you were at a meeting in hell. much to adam's dismay, the two morningstars were attending: lucifer and charlie. he had a right to be anxious; he was going to be in the same room as the man who stole both of his wives! and adam was scared that he might win you over, too. "adam," you cooed, "are you alright?" you gave a comforting rub to his hand. "i'm fuckin' fine, okay?" he replied sharply. you both sat in silence before the king of hell and his daughter walked into the room. "ohoho, and who might you be?" lucifer quipped, taking your hand and planting a kiss on it. "adam's wife," you said bluntly, before quickly pulling your hand back. the king's eyes darted between you and your husband, before erupting in laughter. "you--hah!--with HIM? don't you know what happened to his last two wives?" "dad..." charlie warned. "shouldn't we be discussing this hotel you've been pestering heaven about, instead of trying to steal my wife?" adam spat, fuming. lucifer grinned, about to reply with a witty comeback, when charlie cut the conversation short. "y-yeah! dad, adam's right." her father did nothing but roll his eyes at the remark. "so about the hotel..." adam was evidently not listening, still pissed off at what lucifer had done. with every flirtatious stare lucifer was shooting at you, adam's grip on your waist tightened. the meeting consisted of adam glaring at lucifer, while you and charlie nervously discussed the main topic. you two were both unhappily aware of the burning tension between the two men. "so, um, that's all! we hope you can take what we're trying to do at the hotel into consideration." charlie said. "we most definitely will!" you chimed, before stepping into the portal leading to heaven with adam. you and adam were back in the comfort of your home. you knew what kind of night you were in for. once you got into your house, adam began his rant. "that stupid fuckin' blond short stack..." he groaned. "just WHO," adam seethed. "does that asshole think he is? i'm fucking ADAM, the first fucking man." he babbled. "he thinks he can take you away from ME?!"

"hon..." "that bastard..." "babe." "ill fuckin' kill that dickhe-" "ADAM."

that got his attention. just as he turned to face you, you cupped his face. the eyes of his mask turned into large saucers. "the fuck are you-" "i'm not going anywhere," you started. "i'm yours, adam. i don't want anybody--especially not lucifer-- but you." you reassured. adam's face softened. beneath his cocky and arrogant personality was a man who just wanted someone to love him. and not because they were made to. "you better not be fuckin' lying." you grinned. "of course not. now c'mere, you big baby." you motioned for him to lay on the couch with you. adam's head found its way into the crevice between your jaw and shoulder, as his arms hugged your midsection. his wings covered the both of you. "mask. off." you said. adam complied almost instantly. you smiled at the sight in front of you. messy brown hair and golden eyes. "there's my handsome boy," adam rolled his eyes, blissfully aware of his scorching face. "oh, shut up, you sap."

[theemporium]

Character B, being someone who likes to hug something in their sleep, ends up using Character A as their makeshift pillow. Character A isn’t too keen on it at first but they end up accepting their fate. (It’s the best night of sleep they’ve probably ever had since they were a kid.) 

I need this as fluff with max because there was one interview where he said he wasn’t big on spooning/cuddling and I as this and immediately thought about it

this is so🥹thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

As much as the Dutchman tried to deny his feelings for you, it was clear to everyone else in the world that he was head over heels.

He was blunt with his words and how he felt, never shying away from them when questioned. Though, that being said, he wasn’t always the most aware of his own feelings. And when he was, it wasn’t instinctive for him to yell them from every rooftop so everyone in the world knew how he felt. 

Max bottled his feelings. He let them linger and fester until he was ready to confront them. And despite every single sign in the universe pointing out that he was in love with you, he was nowhere near saying the words aloud to anyone, or even himself.

But that didn’t stop him from showing you he loved you in simple gestures that felt like an instinct rather than a chore.

It was a surprise to most of the paddock that the two of you even became friends, let alone anything more. 

You were opposites in every sense of the word. Max was blunt and direct, you were calmer and more patient with people. Max was seen as a villain to a large majority of the Formula One world, whilst you were a walking, talking ray of sunshine. Max was the golden boy of Red Bull racing, and you were a hardworking member of the Mercedes team. 

And despite it all, you two were a bonded pair known throughout the paddock. 

There would be countless little things Max would do for you that would confuse the people of the paddock. The way he would seek you out the second he was relieved from his duties in the garage or the media pen. The way he would bring you snacks and drinks even if it meant venturing into a sea of silver to find you. The way he would always have an extra hoodie or jacket for you in case things got chilly by the track. The way he would always drive you to and from the paddock, even if it meant he had to stay longer after the races on Sunday when he could leave. 

Though your favourite ritual was the movie nights you would have. 

They were sporadic at best, but you were both committed when you had one. It was usually after one of you had a bad day, when you weren’t quite ready to talk it out but wanted the distraction regardless. 

It had been a tiring day for Max in the media pen, but when he saw the look on your face as he approached the Mercedes garage, he knew it was nothing in comparison to the day you had. He was soundless as he took your backpack from you and headed to the car, barely saying a word until you reached the hotel. He told you to change into something comfier and make your way to his hotel room afterwards. 

Dinner had already been ordered by the time you arrived, and he silently handed you the remote so you could choose the movie. 

Max’s lips twitched when he noticed you had picked New Moon, only snorting a little when you rolled your eyes and jabbed his side for judging your choice. But he remained quiet as you two ate, enjoying the movie as though you hadn’t made him watch it a million times. 

However, he failed to realise just how hard the day hit you because it wasn’t even thirty minutes into the movie when he felt your head on his shoulder. You were both lying back on the bed, the pillows fluffed behind you and the duvet covering you both. It was comfy and it made sense.

And yet, in all the movie nights you had together—in the whole time you had been friends—never once had you shared the bed. You would always make your way back to your hotel room by the end of the night. 

But here you were, fast asleep and tucked into his side. 

Max was frigid and tense at first. A part of him knew he could have just slid away from you, guided you towards the other side of the bed. He could have shaken you awake and carried you back to your hotel room. Hell, he could have even taken the couch or the floor if it meant he had his own space. 

But he found he didn’t really want to.

He told himself that it was the dinner and the long day that had tired him out. That he could no longer fight the sleepiness and exhaustion in his body, that it wouldn’t be worth the effort to move you away. He told himself all of that on a loop as he switched the tv off, as he shuffled down on the bed so he was comfy, as he let you wrap yourself around him like a koala. 

He told himself that he didn’t like it and it was a one time thing as he fell asleep. 

When he woke up in the morning, he was almost surprised to find that you were closer than you were before. Your legs were entangled and your arms were wound around his torso, your cheek pressed against his chest as you slept peacefully. 

He was warm, though it wasn’t unbearable. The heat and weight of you pressed up against him wasn’t as irritating as he assumed it would be. It was comforting. In an odd way, it was soothing, assuring even. 

He was almost annoyed when you woke up.

“You’re not as grumpy as you usually are,” his teammate noted when he entered the garage that morning, ready for the first free practice session of the day.

“I guess I had a good night’s sleep,” Max replied simply with a shrug of his shoulders.

Daniel’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Did you get laid or something?”

Max rolled his eyes. “That’s not the only way to have a good night's sleep.”

Daniel just raised his hands in mock defence. “Alright, don’t bite my head off,” he murmured, though there was an amused smile on his face. “Is it a new stuffed bear? Maybe I should put you down for a nap if you’re getting cranky.”

His chest almost tightened at the thought of napping with you, of having you wrapped around him once again, of feeling that sense of calmness wash over him. 

“You’re hilarious, mate.”

“I know.” 

Yet, Max couldn’t help but spend the rest of the day wondering how he could convince you to sleep in his bed again.

.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Okay wait! Luke and y/n sneaking out of their cabins to go to their hiding spot to watch the stars while kissing and cuddling.

Being a Demi-god didn’t allow for you to experience many of the oftentimes mundane or meaningful moments in life, especially when you were thrusted into life threatening quests for godly parents that probably didn’t care to even remember any of your or your half siblings names; never less remember to claim them unless it proved beneficial for their own agenda.

However there was one exception to this answer his name was Luke Castellan. The goddess Aphrodite must’ve took pity on you by sending the charming and dashing son of Hermes your way, allowing you to befriend and then later on, fall in love with him and you’ve never been more happier then you were whenever you were with Luke Castellan.

Or Golden Boy as you’ve playfully called him, much to his dismay but the small smile that’d tug at lips told you otherwise.

As ironic as it might sound but any moment you got with Luke felt like pure magic with the way they make your insides grow homely and warm like a hearth, warming you throughout your entire body as your face was stuck in a perpetual state of dopey and lovesick.

Tonight was no different then any other night as you and Luke -hand in hand- ventured from the beds of your respective cabins and began making your way towards the lake all the while poorly concealing your bouts of laughter, some would manage to slip out now and then but you couldn’t help it! It had been awhile since you and Luke had some time to spend together, especially not without your siblings and or friends coming to get either of you to settle some disputes, and then not see each other until you were all called to the dinning pavilion; but even then you were seated at your tables, still unable to see each other.

To say that this moment was long overdue for both of you was the understatement of the century.

‘I don’t think that I’ll ever get over how beautiful the stars really are.’ You told Luke in awe, completely captivated by the starry sky that hung over camp.

‘That’s what I always say to myself whenever I get to see you.’ Luke says as he then drew your back until you were was fully pressed against his chest, solely for the fact that he could comfortably put his head upon your shoulder and rest his cheek to yours, humming in content when satisfied with the end result.

You snorted, readjusting the blanket you had brought with you to keep warm from the cold breeze that would occur every so often. ‘Yeah, I’m sure you do golden boy.’ You chuckled upon hearing Luke groan dramatically, only to then squeal in surprise when you felt him burrow his head into your neck, the ends of his hair kissed your skin with the weight of a feather while his own lips coated your neck in kisses of his own before stoping. ‘Don’t you ever get bored of calling me that? Golden boy?’ He asks and you moved your head to press a kiss against his hair. ‘Nope,’ you chirped, pressing another kiss but this time to his nose when Luke lifted his head from your neck to look you in the eye, ‘I for one think it suits you.’ You added, flashing him a cheeky smile.

‘I do often think about you, you know, in the same way you spoke about the beauty of the stars just now.’ Luke confessed and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

‘I didn’t say any-‘

‘You didn’t need to.’ Luke cuts you off. ‘I’d like to think the reason I know you as well as I do is because you hold the other half of my soul, as I hold the other half of yours.’ He says softly as his eyes then looked up to the stars in a form of hope, stars that now twinkled within his eyes as though they had finally broken free from the veil of endless hopelessness that often came with being a half-blood. ‘I also wonder that if I’m another lifetime, another universe where we’re not cursed to be demi-gods….If that’s even plausible.’ He adds sarcastically, his features contorted in pain and anger before it all faded away as quickly as it came. ‘If we ever get to find each other again or are destined to wonder our entire lives, lost in the hope of trying to fill the void we’re seemingly born with from this lifetime.’

You wordlessly buried yourself into his neck, pressing soft kisses there in hopes of soothing him somewhat. ‘I’m sure we find each other, no I’m certain that we find each other.’ You murmured reassuringly, feeling his arms tighten on your waist. ‘You wanna know why?’ Luke looked away from the stars to look at you, intrigued. ‘Why?’ You moved yourself from your cosy place against his chest, causing him to whine at the loss of your warmth, only to stop upon feeling you hold either sides of his face between your hands; caressing his cheeks as you stared lovingly into his eyes as he welcomed your touch by sinking into it.

‘Because what we do in this lifetime will echo throughout the others, we defy the gods today and we will defy the gods in every single lifetime afterwards.’ You said, pressing your forehead against his as you moved one of your hands from Luke’s cheek to hold him by the back of his neck, fingers toying with the hair there. ‘The same can be said for when we love each other as much as we do right now, we will always find ourselves falling in love with each other in the other lifetimes too.’ You pressed a kiss to his scar before continuing. ‘For we’re fated to be soulmates, even if means having the odds stacked against us, we’ll always find each other again. No matter what.’

Luke stared at you for a while before he pressed his lips against yours passionately, his hands keeping you close to him as he poured everything he had into the kiss, not so secretly wishing that you were right about your love echoing throughout all your other lifetimes, to the point it disrupts their originally intended fates to pursue one another, not caring how long it would take because you both knew that the wait would’ve been entirely worth it.

[beiasluv]

sully boys sleeping trope 😳

a/n: this is the product of daydreaming before bedtime, enjoy! 🤍

masterlist

jake (2009)

such a cuddler 100%

he loves being a big spoon for u, anytime, anywhere. it makes him confident that you are sleeping soundly in his arm

jake, jake, he has a trauma of waking up in his old human body 😭 he always hold onto your waist or arm, when he first wake up. then, opens his eyes to his home, Pandora.

what about before bedtime? well, glad you asked, he loves cuddling with you under the starlight. he loves listening to your soft voice telling things about your days or just giggling together.

he loves loves snuggling your head into his neck and resting his chin onto your head, inhaling your sweet scent

“jake, you know i haven’t wash them yet this week,” you pushed him away

“i don’t mind, I love your scent, my mate’s scent.”

100% braiding his hair when he can’t sleep.

when you have nightmares, he’ll wake you up in his embrace 100% awhhhhg

when you first sleeping together he was nervous asf.

your boy sweating and everything. even trying to hold your hand, he was red RED.

you accepted his hands swiftly and hugged it against your chest. he loves for you to hug his arm 100%

neteyamm

me personally, neteyam might seems like a protective typa guy but he loves being the small spoon deep down. I KNEW HE IS

childhood trauma enters the chat, kinda like that. all his childhood, he is expected to be the golden child, the oldest brother, but all he need is a little bit more love and affection.

your boy needs, you provide.

hugging him from behind is so comfy all the time.

i am guessing he has a cold body, and that clashes with the heat of your body. he loves to be snuggled in your heat and radiation

before you guys sleep = massaging each other and relaxing together

you’ll massage his scalp, down to his face, neck, and even his shoulders. he’ll purr in satisfaction, which, of course, we LOVE IT

he’ll try to hide it :( but we love a supportive significant other

“hm…y/n…t-thank you,” he shivered in your touch.

“your welcome, nete, but we know you are trying to hide your purrs,” you giggled. “please, I love them, don’t hide them,” a peck on his nose calmed him down and unlocked his door.

from that on, neteyam became neteyam the purring cat to you. Slay

he’ll return the action as well. basically you guys both massage each other to sleep, drifting away together to the dream world.

lo’ak

definitely shy boi when you guys both sleep together. he’ll be stiff as a stick.

so, of course, you have to make the first move.

you tapped his shoulder slightly to gain his attention, “lo’ak, are you sleeping?”

“no?” he turned to face you, his yellow eyes glowed in the dark.

“I am cold, can you hug me?” you suggested and giggled.

“erm…yeah, of course,” he awkwardly hugged your waist and rested his head on your head, while you snuggled up against his chest. “this…this feels nice.”

“doesn’t it? we should do it more often,” you pecked his lips.

I know, childhood trauma again. BUTTT lo’ak, being love deprived he is, needs affection 100% and you were there to provide them to your boy

he loves to snuggle up with you from then on.

you guys favorite position is definitely facing each other and back away from the outside. it seems like there are only you two in the world, and that’s all it matters

you’ll sing his mother’s song chord to calm him down, and plays with his hairs. he’ll rub your back to calm you down as well.

today’s a great day to take care of yourself! 🤍

@rosaryos / @bumblinbumblvee / @loudcolorwolfgarden / @nyotamalfoy / @fangirl-2610 / @astablacksword / @lokisblueskin

[berriblossom]

Cold hands and warm love

[Date with Death : Casper x Reader] [i am positively obsessed with this man that he's making write again| spoilers for endings#3 btw and the story.]

There's something so oddly soothing watching Casper sleep with Azrael in his arms, all snuggled up without a care in the world. His ghostly white locks sprawled against your shared bed sheets. His eyes ever so softly flutteribg against his pale cheeks, the rays of sunlight dance across his face, almost creating his own personal golden hour.

You chuckled at the idea. Casper wasn't a huge fan of super bright things. Even when you managed to convince him to walk outside your apartment with you, he dons a pair of black shades and scowls at everything. Now that you think about it, he's even more like a black cat than anything, rather than a sign of bad luck but rather for his sassy attitude and his dislike for certain things.

As you quietly watch from your desk, with your pet sitting in the empty sunny spot of the bed, you think back to how long its been since tou winning the bet and being a somewhat embodiment of life while your sweet little now former Grim Reaper is the opposite.

Goodness, one small picture shouldn't hurt? Besides, Casper can't argue with how many not-so-sly pictures he has taken of you randomly as of late. Even changing his profile pick of you sleeping with Azrael while you napped on your bed after work. He tried fighting it off, saying he mainly picked the picture because Azrael looked so good in it while you just happened to be there....no other reason...(he said this while fighting off a flustered face while gazing back at the picture. He then denied making it his lockscreen too.)

You picked up your phone and began to open the camera feature and angle the camera to get the best picture possible. Hell you even move from the desk to hover slightly over Casper and your pet to get the best angle. "Stay right there pretty boy....just perfect..." you mumbled while snapping a few silent pictures. You went to adjust his snowy hair to move from his beautiful face. Just as you touch his cool face, sleepy red eyes flutter open and the iconic pout appears on the reapers face.

"Sunshine....what are you doing? Why do you have your phone like that..." Casper's eyes flutter as he fights off the sunlight beaming through the blinds, all while his sour pout turns into a playful one. Your pet scatters away while Casper tries to snatch your phone away to see the sneaky pictures you've taken of his sleeping figure.

"Ah ah ah! Nope, absolutely not pretty boy, if you can take pictures then so can I!" You shuffle off the side of the bed while Casper jumps up to grasp your hand and to get those pictures. You tease and weave yourself away from him and the bed, sitting on the edge you laugh at how pouty and upset Casper is.

His frustration only exceeded when you decided to flash him the adorable and beautiful picture of him in his sleeping form. As casper has told you before, reapers do not need to sleep or eat. But the idea that he was so comfy in your blanket and bed, cuddling Azrael closely. It just made you want to tease your little reaper to bits. Though sadly your teasing and fun was put to an end.

Suddenly, you felt two strong cold hands wrap around your torso and squeeze you gently. You could feel Caspers lips against your neck as he mumbked for you to please delete the picture. As adorable and pretty as he could be in those moments...the little rat decided to try and tickle you to get you to give uo your phone.

Luckily you were quick enough to slip from his grasp again(heh get it) and make your way back to your bed while cherishing your sweet victory. "Sorry casp, but you look too good! I might make this my profile picture on the chat room too!" His frustrated groans on embarrassment only fueled your decision.

"Sunshin pleeasseee....just....atleast make it your lockscreeb to while your at it...since you can't stop looking and staring at me. Just can't get enough, silly mortal.." ah his ability to bounce back is incredible as ever. But still it was fun while it lasted. Casper came to join you on the bed while bringing you back close to him...somethibg about "being warm." But you did not mind.

You'll never mind, your soul brings him warmth, his perfect heater if youll say. You chuckle as he scrolls through his camera roll whie trying to find a picture of you(an god awful one) to place as his profile picture on the chatroom. Yeah its going to be a long day. But you never minded.

[hfhxjdndnnrnt]

Luffy x reader head-cannons

Kisses ALL THE TIME there is no escape literally anytime and anywhere

He loves pda and doesn’t care what others think

Loves hugs!!! Hug him first!!!

Midnight snacks are a must for every night 😭 he will wake you up if he is hungry so you two can have some quality time

His gifts are the best because he is really sentimental and thinks about everything

He doesn’t really get jealous but when he does….

Will do anything for you no questions asked

Probably knows you better than you know yourself

He thinks you’re probably a princess

Needs ALL of your attention

A literal golden retriever boyfriend

He doesn’t really have any experience with his love life so everything you guys do will be a lot of his firsts

This boy wants everyone to like you and to be your friend

His friends are your friends or his crew in other words

Your date nights usually include food like 99.999% of them

He doesn't tell you things about him for a really long time because he just never thought about it

The moment he saw you he had heart eyes for you and only you

He made it his goal to have you as part of his crew

Cuddles are life with him you two are always touching each other

Pinky promises

He thinks more of you than anyone else

He doesn't know how to cook

You two had a cooking date and he lit the store on fire and burnt everything please don't let him try cooking again

He has tried making pancakes for you but they looked like burnt hamburger buns and smelt like coal?

Sanji’s worst nightmare is him in the kitchen and cooking for everyone

Anyways I hope everyone enjoys I might make more i don't know

[goldenhypen]

; ⎯ mornings with you .

synopsis. riki loves the mornings with you.

pairing. ni-ki x reader ⋅ genres. fluff, domestic ⋅ wc. 0.9k ⋅ warnings. mentions of food

prompts 5. giving them a kiss before going to work and they are still in bed ; 10. sitting in comfortable silence while eating a meal ; 26. doing a chore for them that you know they aren’t fond of ; 38. letting them warm their cold hands under your shirt ⋅ requested ⋅ dark blood event

a/n. ended up combining a whopping five requests for this one so sjsjjdjddj :’> enjoy!

opening your eyes to the bright sun shining through the windows of the bedroom, you squinted, looking around at your surroundings before noticing riki lying asleep beside you. he looked so peaceful, head laying relaxed on his pillow, turned to face you subconsciously.

you admired his features, from the way his hair was dishevelled and bangs hung over his eyes, to the point of his nose and shape of his lips, all the way down to the moles that marked his chin and neck.

the golden sunlight emphasised his already angelic glow, making you think, how could a night’s sleep leave one looking so effortlessly stunning in the morning?

snapping yourself out of your daze and back to reality, it was time to get ready for work.

carefully, you snuck out of bed.

you and riki had quite different schedules, you being involved in an occupation with more ‘typical’ working hours, and riki—being the idol he was—having the more extreme schedule, often staying up, practising late into the night, and even early into the morning.

you let him get his much-needed rest. but before leaving the room, you walked over to his side of the bed, leaning down and pressing a soft, delicate kiss to the side of his head, but perhaps not gentle enough, as at the moment of contact, he began stirring in his sleep, and immediately, you noticed his eyes were opening.

with an inhale followed by a smile, he let out a puff of air through his nose, content, you being the first thing he got to see in the morning.

no words needed to be exchanged as you two just stared into each other’s eyes, both still attempting to fully wake up.

“come sleep for a little longer,” he said, arms now stretched out for you.

“as tempting as that sounds, no, you know i have to get ready to go,” you told him. “you go back to sleep though. you have a long day ahead of you.”

with your last words, you leaned down, holding the side of his face softly in your palm before leaving a short and sweet kiss on his lips. but in doing so, it left him craving more.

so as you were pulling away, he brought you right back with one of his ice cold hands on your skin as they unintentionally made their way under your shirt.

“riki!” you screamed at the sudden freezing sensation, instinctually backing away, and in turn, removing his hand from your body. “you’re freezing!”

“i’d be more warmed up if you came back for a few more minutes of cuddles,” he justified.

you scoffed playfully, “since you’re suddenly all awake now, get out of bed. let’s eat.”

and at those words, in an instant, his eyes were shut closed, and the fakest snores you’ve ever heard were leaving the boy in front of you.

you jokingly rolled your eyes and left the bedroom to go to the kitchen where you were going to be preparing breakfast—by yourself, apparently.

many minutes passed, and the food was finally about done.

“mmm, smells so good—” riki complimented as he entered the kitchen, circling his arms around your waist from behind, nose digging into your hair as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “—you, that is.”

there must have been something in the morning air that seemed to make him more flirty at this time of the day; this wasn’t the first time—not that you were complaining though.

you were flustered, but you couldn’t let him know that because from past experience, along with the flirting came much teasing if your reactions went noticed.

so you resorted to a light nudge to his ribs instead.

“ack!” he exclaimed. “ouch?!”

“stop being so dramatic, you big baby.”

eventually, you two made it to the dining table and started eating in comfortable silence, quite the contrast from the many playful remarks you two couldn’t help but make just seconds earlier.

from where he was originally focused on his plate, his eyes travelled up and watched you, just thinking about how much he loved waking up to you, sharing breakfast like this in the morning that you cooked for the both of you yourself. he was utterly in love with you to say the least.

after you and riki cleared the food on your plates, you stood up, but riki stopped you, “sit back down and relax for a bit. i’ll do the dishes.”

and this shocked you because no one likes doing the dishes, especially nishimura riki!

he stood up and walked over to you, planting a kiss on the side of your head before gathering the plates and cutlery and bringing them to the sink.

“what did you do, riki?”

“what?” he questioned, confused.

“why are you acting all responsible all of a sudden? did you do something wrong?” you interrogated half jokingly.

“i am responsible! and no, nothing is wrong,” he answered, playfully offended.

“wow,” you let out, almost speechless. “well then you must just be really in love with me.”

“yeah, i am.” and he loved mornings like these he got to spend with you too, even if there weren’t many, but maybe that just made these moments all the more special. and he loved every second of it.

a/n. this was a v fun one to write :’> sigh i love domestic fics they make me so soft :’> if you enjoyed, pls feel free to lmk <3 your lovely words truly make my day! <3 thanks for reading !!

event masterlist.

taglist (open). @raimbows4u @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @beans-and-jeanes @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @liikno @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @pshchives @sunjakes @ethereal-engene @yeosayang @4ri-ki @sunoksunny @jaeyunjakesim @tnyhees @enaus @hoes4hoseok @palajae @clarakyunisageek @annoyingbitch83 @4vonly @wonswondrland @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @ktttwwn @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @mnsnts @chacottone @yeseoist @azurez @milisabunny @wonniestars @iamliacamila @rikislady

[harrysfolklore]

this picture i need it in a bubba blurb ASAPPPPP -🫶

OKAY HEREEEEE

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

“Daddy?”

A soft voice calling for him made its way to Harry’s ears, a voice that belonged to his three year old son, who was curiously peeking his head inside his home studio.

Ever since his little boy was born, Harry made the decision to switch everything up regarding his career, taking longer breaks between albums and tours and building a full equipped music studio in his home. He just didn’t want to be away from his wife and son, specially during his first years of life.

“Hey buddy, what are you doing over there?” Harry said as he moved his hands away from the piano tiles and looked over at the little boy who was just a replica of him: same green eyes, dimples and brown curls. It blew anyone’s mind when they saw how alike they looked.

He had been working on the same melody all day, he was in the process of writing his 5th studio album, the first one as a father, and he wanted everything to be perfect. The album was all about fatherhood, falling in love with his wife all over again and overall this new chapter of his life, he was happier than ever and that’s what the songs he had been writing told.

“Come here, baby,” Harry opened his arms, motioning the little boy to join him “I’ve missed you, would you like a cuddle?” his son curiously dragged his small feet across the room, Harry had noticed how much he liked his studio, and how fond of music his son was, always asking his mummy to play his favorite songs around the house and his daddy to sing for him. It warmed Harry’s heart every single time.

“Cuddle daddy.” the little boy mumbled as he climbed on the piano’s bench -with Harry’s help, of course- and placed himself on his lap. If there was something that Harry wouldn’t change for anything was cuddling his son, so when his baby adjusted himself on his lap and buried his face on his ribs, putting his little arms around his broad frame, he could feel his heart growing twice is size.

Harry kissed the little mop of curls and lingered his lips on the crown of his baby’s head, sometimes he couldn’t quite understand how he got so lucky to have the perfect little family. He found his soulmate when he was 22 and knew he wanted to marry her, he put a ring on her finger at 29 and now, at 31, he had a little bundle of joy that was a mixture of him and the love of his life.

Life couldn’t get any better.

So with a full heart and a sudden burst of inspiration, he went back to playing melodies on the piano, careful not to disturb the little boy in his arms.

“Music?” the boy beamed as he moved his little face from its position on his dad’s ribs, and Harry couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm over hearing him play “That’s right bubba, daddy’s playing music, you like when daddy does that, don’t you?” Harry cooed, he was man enough to admit that his little boy made him melt with every single thing he did.

“Play daddy” his son said as he sat up straight on his lap, his gaze fixed on the piano in front of him, and since his wish is Harry's command, he continued playing soft melodies for him.

Harry wanted to take that moment in and save it forever, he was unaware at that moment, but his wife was standing at the door frame, capturing the both of them in a picture that would be part of his album's booklet in the future.

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles s @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @noitsmebecky @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay @goldensstateofgrace @missmielyhoran @fdl305 @lightsoutstyles

[flowercrowngods]

for prompt tag!

28. i'm just getting comfy (would love if this was established relationship/domestic fluff.. perhaps one of them is sick in this... idk)

but also take your time 🫡🫂

in which steve is sick but that won't stop soft boys hours

When Eddie hears the sound of fuzzy sock-clad feet dragging over the hardwood floor, accompanied by a sniffle or two, he drops the book he's reading onto his chest, exasperated by his restless boyfriend who refuses to stay in bed after Eddie tucked him in — again! Ready to give him A Look and tell him to get back to bed, because whatever it is he needs, Eddie can and will get it for him, Just go back to bed, Stevie. 

But whatever words were on the tip of his tongue even just a second ago have disappeared at seeing Steve – the same way that they always used to when they've only been dating for a few months. Instead of giving him anything remotely like A Look, Eddie grins, and instead of exasperated, all he feels is immeasurably fond. Endeared. Fucking enamoured. 

Because Steve, in all his pale, sniffly-nosed glory, is standing in the doorway to the living room, blinking against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, painting everything golden and bringing colour back to him, too. But it's not the way the light catches on his skin that makes Eddie fall in love all over again in what Robin would describe the most pathetic way possible, no. 

The thing that makes Eddie want to propose on the spot, in sickness and in health, is the fact that Steve is wearing Eddie's woollen hat. The one Joyce knitted for him with thick, soft, dark brown wool a few Christmases ago, with two distinctive bat ears sticking up.

God, where did Steve even unbury that? 

And what business does he have looking so absolutely fucking adorable wearing it?  His glasses are askew, the hair sticking out from beneath the hat is tousled and greasy, and the bags under his eyes are stark against his sickly pale skin that makes his nose shine red. 

Eddie is about to die with how much he loves him. It’s like a scream lodged in his throat that he cannot let out, an urge that grows evermore to let the whole world know, to not rest until the last person knew about his endless, endless, endless love for this angel of a man. 

In sickness and in health. It is there, residing in the back of his head, and he almost says it out loud — but Stevie would kill him if Eddie proposed to him because of a stupid woollen hat with bat ears (Sorry, Robbie). 

“Baby,” he breathes instead, miraculously keeping a hold of his heart in this wave of affection that overcame him so suddenly. “You good? Everything okay?” 

“Mhmm,” Steve hums, though it’s more of a growl with how rough his voice is. He wipes at his face, almost nudging his glasses off his nose, and Eddie can’t keep in the chuckle that bubbles out of him. 

He’s about to get up off the couch and wrap the angel with bat ears in his arms, just because he can, but then Steve is already approaching him, the blanket thrown around his shoulders dragging on the floor just as much as his feet. There is something so young about Steve when he’s sick, something so vulnerable and raw that makes Eddie want to latch onto him and never let go. Protect him from the evil germs and the headaches they bring. It’s dumb. Stupid, really. 

Eddie doesn’t even try to fight it as he sits up and holds out his arms for Steve to fall into. He brushes kiss after kiss to his overheated skin as Steve cuddles into him, burying his face in Eddie’s neck and his hands underneath his shirt. 

They hum in unison, finding a sound for serenity.

“That’s my hat,” Eddie says after a while, breathing in his sick angel and feeling him melt in his arms. 

“Our hat,” Steve mumbles into his skin. "My turn to be Batman."

Eddie laughs, wrapping his arms tighter around him, giving in to the urge to hold, the urge to never let go. “You’re ridiculous, d’you know that?” 

“I did know that,” Steve says, and he somehow manages so sound proud of that. 

“Good, just making sure,” Eddie remarks, hiding his own grin in Steve’s cheek, nosing along his temple and the edge of the hat. After a moment of silence that they spend just holding onto each other, he murmurs, “You need anything?”

Steve shakes his head, winding his arms tighter around Eddie’s shoulders and leans into him; it takes him a moment to catch up with Steve, but eventually he lets himself fall backwards so they’re lying flat on the couch. 

“What are you doing, hm?” he asks, reaching for the blanket that has pooled around Steve’s legs and pulls it up again, wrapping it around his shoulders properly again. 

“I’m just getting comfy,” Steve rumbles, slowly and sluggishly wiggling and twisting on top of him until he stills with a satisfied hum that sounds a lot like a smile. 

“Good?” 

Another hum, affirmative this time, as Steve buries his cold fingers underneath Eddie’s body. “You’re warm.” 

“And you have a fever.” 

“Hmm. Still.” 

It makes him grin again, makes him want to burst and scream and cry and laugh endlessly. 

“Ridiculous,” he says again, no louder than a whisper, and Steve turns his head to press a kiss to the centre of Eddie’s chest. It’s as much of a No, you as Eddie’s going to get, and he cherishes it with everything he has. 

“I like that,” Steve says, half asleep by the sound of it.

Eddie reaches for Steve's glasses and places them on the coffee table, and tucks the hat back over his ears. When no elaboration follows, asks, “You like what, angel?” 

“That. Your voice. Feels nice.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhmm.”

“Want me to read to you? I think you might like this book, actually.” 

Another hum, another kiss — to his heart this time. “I like everything about you.”

“That’s what I wanna hear,” Eddie laughs, reaching for the battered copy of Momo that’s been one of his favourites since Wayne brought it home on a rainy night in ’85 and Eddie stayed up all night devouring it. 

“At the edge of the city,” he starts reading the blurb, to give Steve an idea what this is about and let him decide if he wants to listen in or just feel the rumbling of Eddie’s voice in his chest, “in the ruins of an old amphitheatre, there lives a little homeless girl called Momo. Momo has a special talent which she uses to help all her friends who come to visit her. Then one day the sinister men in grey arrive and silently take over the city. Only Momo has the power to resist them, and with the help of Professor Hora and his strange tortoise, Cassiopeia, she travels beyond the boundaries of time to uncover their dark secrets.”

Steve doesn’t react, but Eddie can feel that he’s not quite asleep yet, so he opens the book and starts reading from the beginning that he almost knows by heart. Somewhere on page seven, Steve takes to playing with Eddie’s hair, carding slow fingers through the strands in the gentlest way that is almost enough to distract him. Switching the book from one hand to another as his arms get heavy from the position he’s holding the book, he always has one hand drawing idle patterns underneath the blanket, between Steve’s shoulder blades. 

It’s a slow afternoon as the sun sets on them, painting them in golden hues of orange and rose. Once he’s sure Steve is asleep and the living room too dark to keep reading, Eddie puts down the book and sneaks his arms under the blanket, wrapping them loosely around Steve’s shoulders to follow him into dreamland.  

hope this lives up to what you had in mind! 🫶

[fannyspammy]

Kiss Me, You Idiot

Adam Warlock x Reader

Summary: You’re Adam’s first kiss.

Warnings: no warnings, just fluff :) (if you’re looking for something spicier I’ll be getting into the more heated firsts soon so stay tuneddd 👀)

A/N: second part to the Firsts series! I didn’t expect the first part to get so much activity so quickly! Thank you everyone for reading 🥺 If you haven’t read it yet, part one is here! Can be read as a oneshot tho :)

[not my gif]

It had been a month since Adam had discovered what romantic feelings felt like, & a month since he & y/n had become an item. Adam was a gentleman; he’d never do anything to make y/n uncomfortable. He was sweet & patient, & she could tell how much he cared for her from how protective he was, & from the way he was attentive to her every need. Adam loved spending time with y/n, & he was content with the nature of their relationship.

Y/n on the other hand, while appreciative of his respect for her, was a little more… experienced in the world. And while she liked that they were taking things slow, she was beginning to crave more.

They’d been together for a month now, although they technically hadn’t put a label on it (she wasn’t sure he knew what a label was, anyway, so they were simply together as far as she was concerned), so it had also been a month since y/n first imagined kissing her golden boy. Well, maybe a bit more than a month, since she’d definitely wanted to kiss him before she even knew he liked her. How could she not?

But she was beginning to question whether he wanted to kiss her. They cuddled often, coming to their spot to be alone & get away from the crowds, but that was always where it stopped.

She tried a few times to initiate it, placing quick pecks on his cheek or his hands to show she wanted more physical affection. Adam would match her actions, planting gentle kisses to her temple or her palms, maybe even the top of her head, but he would never go further.

Adam had a cheerful grin on his face when y/n opened the door, a small metal box in his hands, fastened with a thin piece of twine.

“For you!” he announced, extending his arm to present his gift, body bent into a slight bow.

Y/n giggled at the exaggerated gesture. “Why, thank you, sir.” She curtsied.

Adam closed the door behind him before scurrying to y/n’s side, peering over her shoulder as she pulled at the twine securing the lid of the box. Y/n’s eyes widened with awe as she lifted the delicate gold chain from its metal home, a solitary yellow gem dangling at the bottom of its curve.

“Adam! It’s beautiful!” she said, turning to face him.

Adam was biting his lip in excitement, hands behind his back, rocking back and forth on his heels. “You like it?”

“I love it! But where did you get it? How did you afford this?”

He shrugged. “I pulled some strings & had it custom made. I wanted it to look like me, so that even when I’m not there I’m… well I’m still there with you.”

Y/n threw her arms around his neck & his arms wrapped around her waist almost instinctively. “Thank you so much!”

They stayed in each other’s embrace for a moment, and he slid one hand up to the base of her neck to pull her closer.

Then, slowly, they began to pull away. Y/n looked up at him through her lashes, their faces mere inches apart, silently praying that he would finally close the gap.

Kiss me, you idiot!

Adam spun her around & she yelped at the sudden movement.

“Here, let me help you put it on!”

He gently moved her hair out of the way so he could access her neck. As he fumbled with the lock, y/n couldn’t hold in her question any longer.

“Adam, why won’t you kiss me?”

She felt him freeze behind her.

“Huh?”

“Why won’t you kiss me? It’s been a month & you haven’t even tried!” She turned to face him again, brows furrowed & her lips in a pout. “Do you not want to?”

“Y/n! Of course I want to!” He grabbed her face gently, rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

“Then why haven’t you?”

Adam hesitated before answering. He slid his hands down from her face, past her shoulders, all the way to her hands. He pulled her arms behind him, & she locked her fingers as he brought his own hands behind her waist. Looking away, he sighed.

“I’m nervous to. I know I’m not the first guy you’ve been with, but you’re the first girl I’ve been with— that I’ve even wanted to be with.” He returned his gaze to her. “So I guess I just- well I don’t really know if I- I just.. I want it to be good for you. But I don’t know if I’ll be good at it.”

Y/n smiled. She had the most genuine man in the galaxy.

Bringing a hand up to his face, y/n ran her thumb along Adam’s lower lip.

“Adam, it’ll be good because it’s you.” She brought her face closer to his, & he lightly took the tip of her thumb between his teeth. “Besides, even if you aren’t good at it, you’ll have a lot of opportunities to practice.”

“Yeah?”

Y/n smirked. “Yeah. I’ll even give you daily lessons if you want.”

“Promise?” Adam dipped his head into the crook of her neck, placing wet kisses along its base and up to her jaw.

Y/n moaned softly, enjoying his touch.

“Promise.”

Clasping her chin he tilted her head so their lips could finally meet.

The kiss was gentle and sweet. Just like him. Then he deepened it, pulling her closer to him, moving in sync. Y/n parted her lips slightly, swiping her tongue along his bottom lip.

Adam was a fast learner, slipping his tongue into her mouth at just the right capacity. Soon, their tongues were at a steady wrestle, the sound of their moans filling the air as they enjoyed the pleasurable contact.

Finally pulling away for breath Adam looked at y/n, intensely at first, as if reading her. Then with a playful smirk he leaned in for one more kiss, soft & lingering. Pulling her bottom lip between his teeth he pulled away slowly, watching it plump at his release.

“How’d I do?”

Y/n bit her lip, the one that was just in his mouth, still feeling the sensation of his touch.

“Mm, might need to do a little more research first.” she replied, pressing her lips against his again.