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#big tired time for slumber
goblin-enjoyer · 13 days
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Oh by the corpses I think I’m loosing it. Earlier I just got back from a friends birthday get together for their 21ST. I’m a bit worn out so I go to watch some background entertainment on YouTube while a get my batteries for wow back (I heard there was a new important quest chain). I see some homestuck comic dubs in my feed. Odd, but makes sense as I have been listening to the music lately. So I turn on those old 3-4 year old videos thinking: “eh this is just some old dubs from 2015-16 might as well watch em while I recharge. See what this old decaying fandom had in its heyday”. I watch for a bit until I find a comp that BLINDSIDES me with a Covid reference comic. I look at the date, 4 years ago. After the video is finished I then proceed to realize that all those videos were from 2020-2022 and then start breaking down somewhat as I realize I’m getting old and starting to think “4 years ago was 2016” . Que this post . Honestly I can’t tell which is worse. The fact that 2016 was almost 10 years ago and as much as things change, every 5 or so years they kinda just reset a tiny bit in the transition from old to new to old again Or the fact that i might be a homestuck fan now. Nonsense of a mad[WOULD PREFER NOT TO SAY] in the tags as I don’t put that crabp in the main post.
#midnight brainrot#homestuck#truly to have read all of homestuck is to be changed#it seems#I swear it was like 2015 watching Steven universe comic dubs all over again#I knew this sort of thing would happen but not until my 30s I would think!#maybe young me was right and autistic people don’t live to see adult hood as I feel like I am rapidly aging into dust the more I think about#it.#I can’t get these bean shaped runty gits out of my brain stem. I DO NOT WANT THEM TO BE CONSISTENT CHARACTERS IN MY LISTEN TO MUSIC DAYDREAM#S#GET THEM OUT OF MY HEAD GET THEM OUT OF MY HEAD GET THEM OUT OF MY HEAD HET THEM OUT OF MY GEAD GET THEM OUT IF MY HEAD GET THEM OUT OF MY H#THEY DONT EVEN HAVE MERCH I CAN GET TO STRANGLE MY WAY OUT IF THIS#NO BIG HEAD PLUSHIES TO THROW AT WALLS AND TO CRUSH WITH MY BARE HANDS AND MAYBE A BOOK#maybe all this feeling old thing is also in small part due to the fact gravity falls is coming back from hibernation#like ”book droppped time to get out of cocoons and feed until it’s time to slumber again!#ugh I am tired but I really want to play wow today I almost unlocked earthen#I know they are rock dwarves but I like their accent. IF NO ONE IS GOING TO AUTISTIC CODE THESE ROBOTS IT SHALL BE ME#I mean monotone voices trying to sound natural? literally me#need specific orders to function and are trying to break away from it. at least somewhat? me: very much me#while they don’t fit the horde much#I can’t say I don’t like the idea of getting to play a dwarf without having to go to eugh. stormwind#ORGRIMMAR FOR LIFE BAYBEEEEE!!!!#man I derailed this posts tags. hope the person reading this had fun#I gotta go poop now ok bye
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lyrefromthesea · 2 months
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How would the hashira react if we accidentally pushed him off the bed while sleeping?
Male hashira x Reader - It's OUR bed
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pairing: Tengen x Reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader
content warning: none
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Tengen:
• he wakes up before he even hits the ground. did you just push him down? he immediately checked, but realizes you aren't awake.
• with a quiet scoff, which turned into an even more quiet laugh, he stands up and takes his original place in bed again.
• to make sure that you're not pushing him down another time, he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close enough to nearly use him as a bed instead.
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Obanai:
• he hits the ground and nearly panics. if you pushed him out of the bed in your sleep, then maybe you subconsciously didn't like having him close.
• he's quick to disregard that thought, because you quietly stirred next to him, as if you couldn't sleep without him.
• when he finally takes his place in bed again, he lets his fingers brush against yours, wanting to have contact with you. he feels his heart swell when you wrap your arms around his and press it against your body.
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Rengoku:
• falls out of the bed and stares at the ceiling with his big owl eyes. he sits up straight in a matter of seconds, asking what just happened.
• though he didn't want that to happen, he accidently wakes you up. seeing you yawn and rub your eyes, he stands up to comfort you into slumber again.
• he'll hold you close to his chest, so you can fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.
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Sanemi:
• he lands on the ground face first, his hand still clinging onto your arm. the reflex that usually was there to protect you, took you down with him this time.
• the air got knocked out of his lungs after you fell on top of him, letting out a quiet groan. the man turned his face to the side, grumbling in his tired voice, while he felt you get up.
• he's too tired to even talk about it, letting himself fall into bed again and pulling you with him. he ends up falling asleep on top of you, your cheek squished against the top of his head.
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Giyuu:
• he sleeps on his side, when you accidently pushed him down the bed, it made him fall onto his back pretty hard. it normally wouldn't have bugged him, he was a hashira and knew how to handle pain. unfortunately, his muscles ached after the fall, because he had landed rather unlucky.
• he won't say anything or wake you up, because he doesn't want to disturb your sleep. expect for the quiet grunt leaving him, he makes sure to keep absolute silence and hold you close again.
• when you see him feel unwell the next day and ask what's wrong, he'll explain it to you. "why didn't you say anything, i would've helped immediately!" he fell silent, his cheeks flushing. he had been too shy to ask for your help.
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Gyomei:
• he was sleeping on the edge of the bed to begin with. it wasn't your fault when you turned and bumped against him, making the man fall down the bed.
• he opens his eyes slowly, hands feeling the ground under him, eventually brushing against the blanket that was hanging down the bed.
• it didn't hurt and it was clearly an accident, he didn't see any reason to talk about it. instead he stands up again, makes sure that you sleep in a proper position and puts a protective arm around you.
• you may never know what happened, but that didn't disturb him. he loved you after all.
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sunmoonjune · 1 year
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raspberry leaves
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pairing: poly!geto suguru x fem!reader x gojo satoru [jjk au]
warnings: jjk au! geto doesn't defect and everything is happy :)) cursing, periods, severe cramps, painkillers and mentions of taking more than you're supposed to (three instead of two), lots of talk of pain, mentions of vomiting, passing out, panic, mentions of death, mentions of burning yourself, probably ooc megumi but he's a kid here (probably gojo too but I can't not write him soft), family au!, megumi tsumiki and the twins are here!, probably taking liberties on how gojo's technique works but oops, this is for the girlies with severe period symptoms :'), major hurt/comfort
word count: 12.5k
a/n: drops this and yells "scatter!" and disappears back into seclusion. I did not proofread this :)
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Gojo Satoru has never woken up so terrified in his life. 
It’s a horrifying thing; to wake up lurching from your sheets as the love of your life cries out in panic just a few hours past midnight. For a moment, Satoru thinks he’s dying – or that he should be – because as he rips his sheets away from his legs, racing to his feet with his pulse already roaring in his eardrums, he turns to find Geto Suguru crumbling to his knees. The dark-haired man is the one who shouted, his hands fumbling to grasp another figure, their body limp and hanging useless in Suguru’s arms.
It’s your frame, clutched tight in Suguru’s big hands, that steals the breath from Satoru’s lungs. Ripping any semblance of oxygen right from his chest, the Six Eyes user is left stumbling on his feet to reach his spouses as they crumble to the floor – you limp in Suguru’s grip as you fall unconscious. 
Suguru shouts, a desperate cry of your name as he finally sinks to the bathroom floor, urgently scrambling to cradle your weight against him and support your figure. When he’s settled on the ground, a hand carefully cradling your face, Suguru looks up at Satoru, panic in his features and his heart in his throat. For a tense second, neither man speaks, too terrified to properly ascertain the situation. Then, Satoru chokes out a desperate question as he stumbles into the doorframe, clutching the wood until he swears it could splinter beneath his hands. 
“What happened?” 
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But let’s rewind a moment, shall we? 
It starts two hours after midnight – well, it starts long before that, but it’s that moment you finally decide to pull yourself from the sheets and stumble into the bathroom. That moment, the one of shortened breaths and a weak whimper, is the one to incite the inferno that will wake Gojo Satoru in an hour or so. 
You’ve been awake for hours. Sleep was a stubborn thing; an obstinate, pig-headed bastard that wouldn’t allow you the mercy of relief even hours after you’ve been awake clutching your stomach and trying desperately not to cry. 
It’s agony. Beginning in your left side and rippling through the entirety of your stomach and down your legs, the cramping sensation seizes you with another tight fist and squeezes. It’s agony, and it’s been keeping you awake for hours. 
Your period is merciless. 
You’ve always had terrible cramps. That was a notion you had grown used to when you were young. Painkillers could only do so much, and you hated to have to take as many as you did just to function near normally. The first day of shark week was always terrible, but this? This was pure agony, and you were nearing your breaking point. 
It festered for hours in your stomach, sending cramps through your form in catastrophic waves and pushing against your belly until you thought you were truly going to die. The urge to use the restroom is horrible, but each time you drag yourself to the ensuite bathroom, you sit there as another wave of agony nearly pulls you to your knees. You’re sweaty and tired, figure quivering as another rippling cramp seizes your legs, and you’ve never wanted anything more than the sweet relief of slumber. 
Nothing seems to help. 
A hot water bottle is pressed against your stomach, the liquid inside near boiling as you clutch it against your bare skin – a bad idea, you know, but the sensation of the burn is nowhere near as terrible as the cramps. You’ve downed three painkillers a few hours ago, probably another bad idea, but you’re desperate now. 
You don’t want to wake Suguru or Satoru. It’s a Sunday night, and you know they both have work early tomorrow morning. They have to get the kids to school too. The four of your children always pile into one of your husband’s nice cars just a few hours past dawn. The kids get dropped off at primary school on their way to work, since it’s just around the corner from Jujutsu High. 
You can’t tear their few precious hours of sleep away from them. 
Not for this. 
There’s nothing they can do – nothing you can do but sit and try to ride out the waves of crippling agony until they finally stop. 
You’ve done this before. These cramps aren’t new. You can deal with them on your own. 
Can’t you?
But as you repress a broken sob, pulling yourself away from the silk of your sheets and into the bathroom once more, you’re not quite sure. 
When you reach the ensuite bathroom, another cramp surges through you and the tears you’ve been desperately withholding finally burst forth. Pressing your weight into the wall as the door slides shut, you click the lock and finally allow yourself to crumple. Your head pushes into your knees as you sob, trying to keep your cries quiet and muffled against your hand as the other clutches the hot water bottle against the throb of your stomach. 
You’re tired. You’re tired and you’re in so much pain that your fingers tremble and your legs shake. It’s awful, and you just want to sleep. 
But your uterus must hate you, because your stomach lurches and you scramble to lean over the toilet as you dry heave. You’ve never vomited on your period, but it sure does feel like you will. 
Your skin itches. From the sweat or the general grime, you don’t know, but you hate it. Your chest shakes with another sob and your fists squeeze tight as you whine out a horrible sound of agony. It’s too much and you wish it would just stop. Leaning back against the wall, you sigh out a choked sound as you curl into yourself. 
“Stop,” you whine brokenly, too defeated to even understand who you’re pleading to. “Please stop.” 
Geto Suguru wakes up a few moments later. 
He doesn’t know what pulls him from slumber at first. His brow furrows as consciousness returns, a deep breath leaving his nose as he sighs and takes in the feeling of body weight pressed into his chest. It’s a muscular figure, long and tall, so it must be Satoru. He’s pressed into Suguru’s stomach, body curled small in a near comical way as he attempts to tuck himself beneath Suguru’s chin. The long-haired man nearly huffs a chuckle as he pries open his tired eyes to see his partner. 
Suguru runs a loving hand over the mess of pale white strands that fall into Satoru’s eyes, his lips quirking upwards softly as he smiles. Satoru nuzzles closer in his sleep, letting out a happy sigh as Suguru runs his nails through the other’s undercut. Then Suguru shifts, turning over his shoulder slowly to find you as his hand reaches out to pull you closer.
But you’re not there. 
Suguru startles. Jolting silently as his heart skips a frightened beat, the sorcerer’s eyes rip open as they dilate. His hand finds an empty bed, the sheets cold and the imprint of your figure long lost. Suguru carefully untangles himself from his lover’s long limbs, his long, dark hair falling into his eyes as he sits upright. 
“Baby?” his deep, tired voice rumbles in question. Where are you? He nearly asks, heart pounding in his chest. Are the kids okay? 
Suguru knew it was weird you had chosen to sleep on the edge of the bed tonight. You’re usually more than happy to bury yourself in between them, cuddling close and nuzzling into their chests as you try to pull yourself even tighter into their embrace. 
But last night, you gently pushed Suguru into your place, offering him a wave of your hand and a lame excuse as to why you wanted to sleep on the outside. Something about not wanting to sleep yet, he remembers. 
He waits a moment, hoping you’ve just gotten up to use the restroom and you’ll return to them soon. The sound of Satoru’s quiet breaths echo through the space, and has to fill the long seconds by tracing his fingers over his lover’s back. Tracing gentle lines over the defined muscles, Suguru sighs softly and tries to calm his racing pulse. 
A minute passes. Then another. And one more – until Suguru isn’t sure how long he’s been waiting. 
Then Suguru cannot resist the swell of panic that ripples through his stomach. 
His heart lurches in his chest as he swings his legs over the side of the bed, too panicked to offer Satoru more than a hushed sound and a stroke over his back when he tiredly mumbles in protest. 
“‘M just gettin’ up for a sec,’” he mumbles quietly, swallowing back the lump in his throat when he sees the light in the bathroom on. “I’ll be back, love.” 
Satoru grumbles something else, but is soothed when Suguru presses a gentle kiss to his brow. 
“M’kay,” Satoru sighs, easily falling back asleep as he snuggles into the warmth Suguru left behind on the bed. If he wasn’t so worried, Suguru would smile, his heart clenching tight in his chest as he watches Satoru curl into his spot with a soft sound. 
When Suguru stands, adjusting his sweats as he quietly makes his way to the bathroom, he pulls his hair from his eyes. Brushing the strands over his bare shoulder, he sighs as he fiddles for a hair tie in his pocket. He doesn't find one, so he simply pushes the dark strands back from his brow, letting them fall behind him and settle against his bare back. 
You’ve always liked it when his hair is loose anyway. 
Suguru knocks on the bathroom door first. It’s quiet, but you should be able to hear it. When you don’t respond, Suguru frowns and tries again. Knocking gently once more, he swallows as another wave of panic curls in his stomach. 
“Sweetheart?” he tries quietly, voice still rumbling deeply from the slumber he was pulled from. “You’ve been in there a while, honey. Are you alright?” 
Still, you don’t respond. 
You want to. Of course you want to. It’s Suguru, and you don’t want to worry him. 
But the waves of agonizing cramps have stolen your voice. All you can do is sit still and breathe. You feel utterly useless. There’s nothing you can do but control the slow pace of your breaths in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the crippling sensation radiating from your stomach. 
You want to respond – tell him you’re alright, tell him something, but the agony seals your lips shut. It’s horrible and another wave of tears spill from your tired eyes. You hate it. You wish you would stop crying; it’s not helping and it only makes you feel weak. 
“Baby? I’m gettin’ worried.” 
All you can manage is a sad, weak sound in response. It leaves your lips in more a sob than a hum, and you muffle the tears that shiver through you after. 
“Honey!” Suguru murmurs worriedly, trying to twist the handle of the door, only to curse when he discovers it’s locked. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” 
He shifts on his feet, lifting a hand to pull on the strands on his hair to soothe some of his panic. The sound you manage in response is another broken hum, and it only worsens the thundering pulse of Suguru’s heart. His gut twists as he tries the knob again, as if a few seconds will have changed the status of the lock. 
You whine and Suguru swears his heart cracks. His head presses against the door as his eyes squeeze shut, fist still closed around the handle. 
“Can you open the door f’me, sweetheart?” he murmurs desperately. “‘M really worried about you.” 
Your eyes close, the watery burn rendering them useless as you sniffle. You huff around another breath of pain, pushing your head further into your knees. Trembling softly as your skin flushes, you battle against the waves of agony and the flash of heat that makes you feel sickly. Another wave of nausea ripples in your gut, and you remember how awful you must look. 
Your hair is plastered against your head and your neck and you must look a mess. Wearing a pair of oversized sweats and one of Suguru’s shirts, you feel utterly gross. More than anything you want to open the door and let Suguru take you in his arms. Cuddling into his firm chest and feeling his big arms wrap around you would probably feel nice, but you’re all too aware of how sickly you must look. 
You don’t want him to see you like this: sweaty, messy and sick as you curl in on yourself as you weep through another terrible cramp. You just want to sleep – you want it to stop, everything needs to stop. 
Suguru hums out another question, but you don’t really hear it. It’s not until you hear the lilt of panic in his voice and his voice fiddling with the handle of the door do you manage to find your voice. 
“Sugu…” 
He startles. Head darting up to the door in front of him, Suguru breathes a sigh of relief and chokes out your name. 
“Open the door, darling,” he whispers softly. “Please…” 
You shake your head even though you know he can’t see it. Frowning as you sniffle, you lick your lips to taste salt and the disgusting hint of snot. You’re a mess, and you don’t want him to see you. 
“No, Sugu,” you manage to mutter, head knocking back to rest against the wall as you continue to focus on breathing through your mouth. You visibly shiver through another cramp, this time seizing and whining as it echoes through your legs. 
Suguru bites down on his lip, feeling another sliver of his heart crack at the broken sound of your voice. It pains him, your defeated sigh. He desperately wants to comfort you, to bring you into his chest and kiss your tears away. His hands ache to touch your skin, to feel the warmth he knows by heart. Closing his eyes as he rests his forehead against the wood of the door, Suguru sighs and swallows as he speaks again. 
“Why not?” he murmurs worriedly, voice clipping words from fatigue pulling at his figure. “I need t’know you’re alright, my love.” 
“Don’t wan’ you t’see me.”
Suguru’s head tilts and the lump in his throat swells. Heart clenching sadly, one of his hands lifts to rest on the door, as if he can reach you on the other side if he tries hard enough. He knows he can get through this door if he really wanted. It would be too easy for him to splinter the frame with his strength alone, and he has more than one curse at his disposal that could pick a lock smoothly. 
It’s the sound of your voice that holds him back. 
You’re so… tired. You’re broken whisper echoes through the wooden door with a sad coo, and it makes Suguru’s chest ache. 
“My sweet girl…” Suguru whispers, fingers trailing across the wood like they’re desperate to stroke across your cheek. “Why don’t you want me to see you?” 
You frustratedly sigh, cursing the tears that continue to track down your cheeks. No matter what you do, they keep dripping over your skin in tiny rivulets, staining your face with tracks of dried salt. You wipe them away but they’re quickly replaced by another stream. 
You just want to sleep. 
“I don’t feel good, Sugu,” you sigh tiredly, voice quivering around tears. It’s pathetic – how watery you sound. You wish you were stronger. “I look bad and I don’t want wan’ t’keep you an’ Toru awake.” 
You don’t feel good? He nearly questions. Why didn’t you wake me? 
But all he does is sigh softly, fists clenching against the door. For a moment he contemplates waking Satoru, knowing you probably won’t be able to resist them both. Though, when he turns over his shoulder, Suguru sees the bags beneath his lover’s eyes and the tired slump of his form in their sheets. 
Satoru needs his sleep. It’s difficult enough for him to find slumber when the Six Eyes strains him dry. 
Suguru lets him rest. 
He murmurs your name again, his eyes closing as he continues to rest against the door. 
“I’m in love with you, you know?” Suguru sighs sweetly, his lips lifting slightly to reveal a fond smile. “You could never ‘look bad’ to me, my darling.” 
Shifting on his feet and looking up at the ceiling, his shoulders sag as he worries. What if you don’t open the door? He’s considering settling on the floor with his back against the door when he whispers again. 
“And you don’t need t’worry about keepin’ me awake, alright? I want you t’come to me when you’re not feeling good.” 
He pauses once, dropping his hand from the knob as he breathes. 
“I worry about you, honey,” he finishes. “I just need to know you’re okay.” 
You sniffle, feeling the cramp finally seep away to nothing. They’re not over, you can feel another wave rising from beneath the last, but at least they offer you a single moment to reach up and twist the lock. 
It’s too much for you to handle alone. 
You want to bury yourself in Suguru’s strong arms and weep as the pain shivers through you. If there’s nothing you can do to soothe the agony, then at least you won’t be alone. 
“Okay.”
Suguru hears the lock click. 
Gasping softly, he pulls himself upright and reaches down to grip the handle of the door with a skip of his heart. He was pondering waiting outside the door in the fading light of the moon when you whispered the tired word. His chest aches when he twists the knob, pulling the door open to reveal your figure.
You’re curled on the floor, calves crossed and legs pulled into your chest as you bury your head into your knees. Your arms wrap around yourself, one hand clutching the hot water bottle pressed tightly to your stomach. 
Suguru frowns, his heart thumping sadly as you weep out another broken sound. His entire body aches in a way he cannot describe, physically pained at the choked sounds of agony leaving your lips. He’s already on his knees at your side when you lift your head, looking up at him through your tears and your lip quivering in a way he knows you cannot control. 
He’s never seen you look so hurt. 
“Oh, sweetheart…” he coos quietly, putting the pieces together as you shiver through another wave of crippling cramps, hand squeezing tight around your leg – your period. “You’re not alright.” 
“No,” you weep, shaking your head with watery eyes leaking salty droplets down your cheeks, and you suck in a shaking breath as your fists clench. Your brow furrows as your eyelids squeeze shut, unable to mask the pain as it ripples through you. Suguru’s face softens into an expression of pain, frowning sadly. You have a high pain tolerance for your period cramps – he knows that. You’ve had painful periods your whole life, and he and Satoru have seen you conceal the agony in your features for years. 
This is a knife to his heart. 
You can’t conceal the sweat on your brow, nor the tremble of your fingers and the painful gasp of breath you suck in when the pain returns tenfold. 
“It hurts, Sugu…” 
“I know, I’m sorry,” he whispers sadly, desperately wishing there’s something he can do to stall the agony. “C’mere, honey.”
Suguru’s mouth twists into an expression of pain, and he carefully wraps an arm around your shoulders. Pulling you away from the wall, the dark-haired man maneuvers you into his chest as he sits onto the floor. You twist into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his frame as you weep softly into his bare chest, caring little for the tears that stain his skin. Suguru could care less. He’s far too worried about the expression plastered onto your features and the shiver that trembles through you. 
“How long have you been up?” he whispers as he cradles you in his lap, hand stroking over your hair and strong arm wrapping around you. 
You shake your head and Suguru’s frown deepens – if it’s even possible. 
“Haven’t slept yet.” 
Suguru’s hair falls into his eyes as he leans down to press a gentle kiss between your brows. He stays there, breathing through his noses as he continues to lay tiny kisses to your forehead. His eyes screw shut, hand stroking over your cheek as you bury yourself deeper into his embrace. 
Your skin is warm, flushed with heat and your hair sticks to your forehead in a way Suguru knows must make you feel sickly. He carefully strokes the strands away and kisses the skin beneath with a soft sigh. 
“Have you been awake all night?” he finally whispers, voice deep and quietly sad. “With cramps like this?”
You nod into his chest, wincing again and closing your eyes as you sob through another agonizing cramp. Your legs shake as you tuck them into yourself together, trying desperately to push the hot water bottle deeper into your skin. 
“Oh, baby…” he sighs, leaning back to rest against the wall and pull you back into him. He strokes another hand across your face, thumbing the space between your brows when he sees the way they’re scrunched. “Why didn’t you wake me?” 
You sigh and breathe a few times to steady yourself, slowly loosening your fists when Suguru pries your fingers open to intertwine his own around yours. He pulls your hands into his chest, tucking them by his heart so you can feel the pulse of his heart. He hopes you don’t notice how quick it’s beating. He’s still worried. Suguru cannot help the way his heart lurches when you wince. As if each throb of agony is his own, Suguru buries his face closer to your own, clutching onto your hand and not faltering when you tighten your grip to counter the waves of pain echoing through you. 
“You’ve got work in the morning,” you pant quietly, voice still watery and weak. “And you an’ Toru gotta’ take the kids.” 
“Honey…” he sighs sweetly. “You’re in pain… I want you t’wake me if you’re in pain, sweetheart. No amount of sleep could soothe me if you’re hurt and alone.” 
You manage a hum in response, face still screwed shut and Suguru frowns when you muffle another sob as a cramp seizes you once more. 
“Okay, baby… Okay,” he whispers, rocking you into him a little in an attempt to distract you. Now is not the time for a lecture, he supposes.“You’re alright, darling. You’re gonna be alright.” 
He hates the sound of your tears. 
When you shudder through another agonizing sound, Suguru’s face crumples. He’s never felt so useless. You’re in agony, and he can do nothing to fix it. 
“You took your painkillers?” 
You nod again, weeping into his chest and squeezing his hand tight. 
“Three,” you mumble tiredly, focusing on the feeling of Suguru’s warm, bare chest pressed against your skin. It’s grounding and you don’t want to move. “They aren’t working.”
“How long ago?” 
He doesn't want to pester you with questions, but he’s desperately pulling at strings, hoping one will grant him the solution to your pain. 
“Midnight,” you manage. You wince again, and Suguru peppers kisses along your hairline, gently hushing you. You curl tighter into yourself, desperately huffing as the pain continues to swell higher. It feels like it will break at any moment, but it just… doesn’t. The agony continues to rise, as if there is no limit to its torment. The cramping sensation just comes back again and again, until you’re sure that there’s something wrong. How can a period be so painful? 
“It hurts so bad, Sugu,” you cry, reaching the end of your tether. You’re desperate for the ache to stop, but it feels like there’s no  point of end in sight. “I just want it to stop…” 
Suguru feels his stomach twist, heart crying out in a pattern of your name. He pulls you tighter, a wave of his own tears swelling behind his eyes. Your cries chip at his heart, pieces of his soul falling apart in your agony. He wishes he could do something – use some kind of technique to null the pain, to soothe you, anything. 
“I know, honey,” he soothes, cradling you closer and rubbing his finger over your cheek as he murmurs into your hairline. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more. I’m sorry I can’t take this from you.” 
You shake your head, clutching him tight as you attempt to focus on your breaths again. Hand wrapped tightly around his own, you try to use his touch as a grounding sensation. Eventually, the lulling motion of his finger over your cheek and his lips at your hairline soothe some of the tension beneath your skin. You relax into his touch despite the continuous waves of cramps still panging through your stomach. 
“Just stay,” you weep, lifting your other hand from your stomach to clutch behind Suguru’s head. You hold onto his neck, burying your fingers in his soft hair and desperately inhale his familiar scent. Suguru is familiar – he’s safe. “Please…”
You don’t have to worry about anything as long as Suguru and Satoru are around. 
“Always, sweetheart,” he whispers against you, dropping the hand at your cheek to press your hot water bottle into your stomach for you. “Always. You don’t have t’ask.” 
 His large hand keeps your bottle in place, spreading across your stomach and rubbing soothing circles into your waist with his thumb. His hand is big enough to settle on your stomach and the fabric of your hot water bottle. 
Suguru hates this. He hates seeing you in pain. He hates that all he can do is sit and press delicate kisses to your hairline as you writhe in agony. It physically pains him to be unable to help – to have to watch as one of the loves of his life suffers. 
Suguru buries his nose into your hair and kisses you once more, whispering sweet words of encouragement and humming in an attempt to distract you. He loves you so much, and he hopes you know that. 
“You’re doing so well, my darling.”  
Eventually, the wave passes, and you limply release your intense grip on his fingers and relax into his hold. It’s a slow process. Finally succumbing to some brief glimpse of exhaustion, you slip loosely into Suguru’s hold and trust him to catch you. There will be another cramp soon, but at least this one is over. You breathe out a sigh and look up at Suguru with tears on your lashes. 
Strands of his dark hair fall into his eyes, and Suguru has never looked more beautiful to you. Sitting on the bathroom floor with you three hours past midnight, no shirt and a loose pair of sweats on his hips (ones he’s not sure are his own), and Suguru has never looked so endearing. The way he looks down at you, bangs dangling in front of his dark eyes and full lips leaning down to kiss your face gently; he’s princely. 
Your heart finally slows to an acceptable pace as Suguru leans down, and you close your eyes as he lays a soft kiss to one of your eyelids. His full lips peck sweetly against one, then he leans away to kiss the other. Your eyes well with tears again, but this time you think they’re for a different reason. 
“Hi,” he whispers sweetly, lips lifting to show you that tiny smile of his that makes your heart do funny things. You’re too tired to offer much more than a sigh and a quirk of your lips, but Suguru is grateful for the expression all the same. 
“Hi, Sugu.” 
“Are you feeling any better?” 
You shake your head, sighing quietly as you shift.
“Not really.”
Suguru frowns again, and you’re tempted to lift your thumbs to pull his lips upwards again. Suguru looks so much prettier when he smiles. 
“I’m sorry, honey,” he whispers. “Do you wanna get off the floor, at least? The bed’s much more comfortable and Toru’s gonna start worrying soon.”
You figure now is the best time to try moving, so you nod. There’s probably only a few minutes between these waves of terrible cramps, so you’ll take the moment you have to get back into bed. 
“M’kay,” you sigh tiredly. Suguru's expression softens for a reason you don’t understand, but the sorcerer fondly smiles as he thinks of the same sound Satoru had made just minutes before. 
“Alright, love. Let’s get you up, alright?”
You nod again, allowing Suguru to unwind his limbs from yours. He softly chuckles when you whine as his fingers unlace from your own, but readjusts his grip to carefully pull you to stand. He holds his other hand out, tenderly helping you stand. 
“Careful…” he whispers. “Go slow, baby.” 
Your head spins as you stand and you lift a hand to press against your temple. The rolling tide of nausea in your stomach had quelled for the time being, but the tremble of your legs is still too apparent. You step forward shakily, reaching out to grasp Suguru’s outstretched hand with a grateful smile. He returns the look with soft eyes and nods sweetly as he allows you to step out of the bathroom first. 
When he’s certain you can stand on your own, Suguru turns over his shoulder to turn off the bathroom light and shut the door. 
But he only gets so far. 
Suddenly, you inhale sharply. Freezing in place, your body curls inwards on itself as a blinding swell of cramps overtakes your form. This one is sharp and crippling, radiating down your legs until even your calves feel weak. Your body is suddenly too hot, and the air is far too cold. Shivers trickle down your spine and you feel that all too familiar bolt of stifling panic strike through your chest. It runs through the entirety of your figure, sizzling beneath your skin and striking each nerve it passes. You feel that terrible curl of your stomach and the waves of oncoming panic filter through you.
You sway on your feet. 
Something’s wrong. And it’s making you panic. 
You open your mouth, lip quivering as you attempt to croak out a plea of Suguru’s name, but nothing comes. Some tired, broken whine leaves your lips instead – a desperate cry for help, for Suguru.
When Suguru turns around, head whipping over his shoulder sharply, he expects to see you headed towards his side of the bed. Instead, he’s met with your body swaying slightly as you pant and shiver. Suguru thinks his heart stops. 
Then your body stills, and you crumple. 
“Baby!” 
Suguru throws himself forward, just managing to grab your figure as it goes limp. He sways, shifting your weight into his arms and panicking as you continue to sink into the floor. Your body is dead weight in his hands, still shivering but cold and unmoving. 
He’s going to be sick. 
His stomach curls as bile spills onto the back of his tongue, and Suguru can hear his heart pound in his ears. The lump is back in his throat, swelling until he can barely suck in a desperate breath to calm his panicked heart. Fuck, he’s never been so scared. 
“Baby, oh fuck!” he cries, voice no longer quiet and delicate. Suguru openly shouts, desperately trying to carefully maneuver you to the floor, but his mind is screaming thousands of things at him at once. All he can hear is the roaring in his eardrums. His eyes scan over your limp figure and Suguru swears his heart cracks. He can feel it; deep within his chest, a splinter finally cleaves open. 
“Oh my god, okay,” Suguru chokes out, carefully cradling you as he sinks to his knees. “You’re alright, okay? I’ve got you, honey.”
He doesn’t know what to do. His heart is pounding and his soul is openly weeping. There are tears welling in his eyes and dragging down the pristine skin of his cheeks. 
Suguru doesn't know what to do. 
“Okay,” he whispers frightfully. “Okay…”
You’re laying on your back, facing the ceiling, and the way your blank expression stares back at him makes him nauseous. 
“Sweetheart?” he calls carefully, brushing a hand over your cheek to push hair away from your face. “Baby, c’mon…” 
You don’t respond. There’s not even a twitch in your brow or a flick of your fingers. You’re unconscious. Suguru’s heart accelerates again, pounding until he thinks it might burst from his bony rib cage. He turns over his shoulder with a broken cry, calling for the one person he so urgently needs. 
“Satoru!” 
His voice is panicked, shouted with a guttural cry and he thinks it might echo through the house, but Suguru vaguely hopes he doesn't wake the kids. 
“Satoru, wake up!”
But Satoru is already awake. 
Lurching forward in the bed, the Six Eyes user is already throwing the sheets away from his legs as he scans the room. His technique is activated, and Suguru can feel the familiar curtain of Infinity wrap around his body. 
“Suguru?” Satoru calls as he stands, his body tense and prepared to fight. “What happened? Are you alright?” 
Suguru doesn’t have the chance to respond, because Satoru steps forward and his crystalline eyes find his lover’s hunched figure crouched in the doorway of the bathroom, bent over the body of their wife. You’re limp on the floor, hair sprawled out beneath you as Suguru cradles your head and glances up at his partner with desperate, fearful eyes. 
Satoru thinks he’s dying. 
It’s the only possible explanation for the lack of oxygen in his lungs and the stuttered pulse of his heart. His legs wane at his knees, nearly propelling him into the floor, but Satoru manages to keep himself upright as he throws his hands forward to brace himself on the bathroom doorway. 
“What…?” Satoru whispers breathily, voice uncharacteristically quiet – uncharacteristically weak. “What happened?” 
His Six Eyes are activated, flickering over every crevice of your form. They’re urgent, desperate to find the source of your pain. When they find nothing, Satoru swallows back a sound of desperation. 
“She passed out,” Suguru whispers plainly, panic evident in the quiver of his voice. “She started her period early, Toru. She’s in so much pain…”
Satoru feels his knees wane again. His heart can’t take much more of this. She’s in pain? His soul cries. 
“She’s been laying on the bathroom floor crying,” his lover mumbles, stroking a hand over your cheekbone as a tear drips into his mouth. “I shouldn’t have asked her t’get up – she was weak and I didn’t think –”
“Suguru.” 
The dark-haired sorcerer stops. Lifting his head to stare up at Satoru, Suguru frowns. 
“This isn’t your fault, Suguru,” Satoru whispers, trying desperately to keep himself calm. His heart is in his throat and his pulse roars, but he cannot allow himself to weaken. Suguru needs him – you need him. 
“She’s not waking up…”
Satoru sucks in a breath, his hands curling into the doorframe and gripping the wood until he thinks it will splinter beneath his grip. And it might. Satoru has to be mindful of the strength he uses. 
‘She’s not waking up.’ The phrase echoes through his head until it’s the only thing he can process. You’re not waking up. His wife isn’t waking up. 
“Is she…” Satoru doesn't even know if he can say what he wants to know – what he needs to know. The words make him ill. “Is she breathing?” 
Suguru chokes out a desperate sound. He hadn’t even considered…
And he doesn't want to. 
His hand seizes one of yours, wrapping tightly around your fingers as he pulls it into his chest as he did before. He pleads for you to wake up and feel his heart pulse against your fingers again, just as you had minutes ago. He delicately thumbs over your pulse point, hand sliding down your neck where he cradles your cheek. 
Suguru openly weeps when the thumping beat of your heart races beneath his fingers in greeting. 
“Yeah…” he sobs out weakly, pushing his forehead into your chest. “Yeah, she’s breathing.” 
Satoru sags in relief.
“Okay,” he covers his mouth with one of his palms, trying to suppress the broken sound that nearly leaves him. “Okay, that’s good.” 
Before either man can ascertain what to do, there's rustling at the doorway. It’s a quiet sound, just a soft coo and the creak of the door as it slides open. Satoru’s head whips around, his fingers twitching to activate his technique when he falters. 
Because seven year old Fushiguro Megumi stands in the doorway: his son. 
Megumi’s clutching a plush dog, one that looks remarkably familiar to his Divine Dogs. The soft, dark fur is cradled in his hands as he hugs the stuffed animal to his chest. The plush nearly conceals him entirely, and his dark, spiky hair pokes out over the red mark on the dog’s forehead. It’s a matching toy – the dark one was a gift from Suguru while the white counterpart came from Satoru. They were presents (custom-made plushies) ordered by his fathers when Megumi successfully summoned his Divine Dogs for the first time. 
Satoru still whines when Megumi prefers the dark stuffed animal to the white one. But Satoru doesn't know that Megumi snuggles the alabaster-coated dog when he’s gone on long missions. The boy barely goes anywhere without it until his father comes home. 
“What’s goin’ on?” Megumi tiredly mumbles, one of his hands lifting to rub at his eyes as he yawns. His too big shirt, one of Satoru’s shirts from their youth, hangs over his frame and covers his knees. You were the one to tuck your son into bed last night, and Satoru doesn’t have the moment to fondly think of his boy asking to wear one of his dad’s shirts to bed. 
Satoru sucks in a quiet breath, quickly glancing over his shoulder at Suguru. His husband is still on the bathroom floor, bent over your unconscious figure, but he looks up at Satoru with a silent nod. He’s alright. You’re alright. 
Satoru sighs and turns back to Megumi, suddenly glad the ensuite bathroom is hidden from the doorway to their bedroom. He doesn't want Megumi to see his mother unconscious, or his fathers’ panic. He doesn’t want Megumi to see him scared. Satoru is his father – he needs to show his son that everything is going to be alright. 
Swallowing down his tempered fear, Satoru tries to conceal the quiver of his voice when he responds to his son. 
“It’s –” Satoru stops. He can’t say ‘it’s nothing.’ Because it’s not nothing; and he won’t lie to his son. “It’s alright, Megumi.”
That’s what he decides to say instead. Satoru breathes through his nose deeply as he tries not to turn back over his shoulder to check on you again. 
“Mama’s just having some cramps, she’ll be okay.” 
Megumi nods. He knows what Satoru means, because Geto Suguru would be damned before he raised a son that thinks menstruation was ‘gross.’ Megumi doesn’t know everything – he’s still a kid, afterall. He does know, however, that his mother is plagued with terrible pain once a month, and that it’s completely natural to talk about it. 
Megumi toddles on his feet, the fatigue of the early morning hour making him uncharacteristically soft. He’s usually quite stoic for a kid, exhibiting the same, blank sort of look impassively. But no matter how quiet, you and the boys are well-adept at deciphering your kid’s feelings by now. 
With sleep tugging at his eyes, Megumi paws at his tired lids and yawns sweetly. Shifting his balance again, the boy looks up at Satoru with a tiny, sweet frown.
“Mama’s hurting?” he pouts, bottom lip sticking out slightly. His fists tighten around his stuffed dog, eyes shifting around Satoru to try to get a glimpse of you. Fortunately, Suguru has already readjusted you in his arms and you’re both hidden in the ensuite bathroom. 
“Yeah…” Satoru coughs to conceal the tremor of his voice. “Yeah, Mama’s hurting a little. But she’s strong, remember? She’ll be alright, her cramps will go away soon.” 
He doesn’t know if his words are an attempt to convince Megumi or himself. 
 From behind Satoru, Suguru strokes another thumb over your cheekbone. He inhales a shaking breath as he feels the frightful warmth of your skin. 
“C’mon…” he whispers in the tiny space that separates you. “Wake up, sweetheart. Let me see those pretty eyes again.” 
Swallowing thickly, Suguru’s throat bobs as a tear begins to leak down his cheek. 
“Please.” 
He’s lost. Suguru doesn’t know what to do other than count the seconds since you’ve gone still in his arms. Each one feels longer than the last, but Suguru continues to count them. He doesn’t know why he does it. Perhaps some part of him thinks there is a certain point at which he’ll need to call for help. Is there a distinct period of time that has to pass before you need medical attention? 
Suguru curses himself for not paying enough attention to Shoko’s basic first-aid lessons. 
Satoru’s head flicks over his shoulder, crystalline-blue eyes finding your face as his heart clenches again. He’s conflicted. More than anything, he wants to drop to his knees at your side, just as Suguru has. He wants to clutch your remaining hand and feel the pulse of your heart as a reminder that you’re still there – still breathing. His heart hurts; torn between lingering at your side and comforting his son.
But then Satoru remembers the way you look at your kids. He recalls the fond crease of your eyes when you beam down at them, smiles shining and hands drawing them into you for an embrace. You love your kids more than anything, even though you’ve only had them for a few years now. Even though they’re not your biological kids, even though they’re not babies, and despite not even wanting children before them; they’re your pride and joy. 
Satoru finds the strength within him to smile fondly. He knows you would be pushing him in Megumi’s direction if you had any semblance of consciousness right now. 
Satoru tries not to frown at the reminder of your state. 
Turning on his feet, Satoru steps away from the door, even as his heart cries out for him to return to your side. The remainder of his heart calls for his son – his boy, who is beginning to worry about his mother. It’s evident in the way Megumi shifts on his feet, fiddling with the soft fur of his stuffed pup. 
When Satoru drops to his knees in front of Megumi, he spreads his arms wide in an invitation. He doesn’t expect Megumi to accept; he rarely does. Satoru is affectionate, it’s a sentiment clear as day, and Megumi usually prefers to avoid physical touch. He’s shy that way. 
So Satoru is fondly surprised when Megumi toddles tiredly on his feet as he leans into his father’s embrace. Wrapping his arms tight around his son, Satoru stands from the floor with his heart beginning to return to a normal pace. Having Megumi in his arms is a comfort that soothes some of his rampaging nerves. The knowledge that the rest of his family is safe is a notion that eases some of the tension in his shoulders. Satoru knows he won’t find sleep for the rest of the night if he doesn’t peek into the girl’s room later to ensure they’re sleeping peacefully. 
“It’s alright, Gumi,” Satoru whispers softly, stroking a hand through the spiky strands of the boy’s hair. Megumi rests his head on Satoru’s shoulder with a sigh. “Why did you wake up so early, bud?” 
Megumi wraps an arm around Satoru’s neck, the other still cradling his pup between them. He closes his eyes and sighs sleepily once more as he mumbles in response. 
“Heard Dad yell,” he tiredly whispers. He fiddles with a strand of Satoru’s white hair before he sheepishly continues. “I was scared…”
Satoru tries his hardest not to tease the boy. He knows it’s in his nature to make light of situations with humor, but Satoru also understands that this, perhaps, is not the time. Despite wanting to make Megumi feel better by laughing off the problem, Satoru also remembers the horrible strike of panic that had bolted through him when he heard Suguru yell. 
Waking up to Suguru crying out for you as you collapsed was horrifying, and Satoru can only imagine how frightening it was for Megumi. 
“Oh Gumi, I’m sorry,” Satoru whispers, rocking on his feet in an attempt to comfort the boy. Even though Megumi isn’t a baby, Satoru cannot help the instinctive sway of his feet as he runs a hand through his hair. “Dad didn’t mean to shout, pup. He was just worried about Mom.” 
Megumi nods softly, snuggling closer to Satoru’s chest in a way that makes the father’s heart ache. 
“Can I… Can I help?” Megumi quietly questions, words spoken only for his father to hear. “Mom always makes me feel better when I’m sick.” 
Megumi mumbles something else; something that sounds like ‘don’t wan’ mom t’feel bad,’ but it’s muffled into Satoru’s neck and he barely catches it. 
Satoru smiles despite the panic still roaring in his chest. The way Megumi calls you ‘mom’ and Suguru ‘dad’ has always made him a little emotional. It took more than a year for Megumi to truly grow comfortable in your makeshift family, but eventually the boy’s cautious exterior melted away into what he really was: a kid looking for a home – a family. He was abandoned for God’s sake, Satoru knows the kid was guarded when he found him. And he had every right to be. 
But in just a few short years, Megumi has begun to call Tsumiki and the twins his sisters and on rare occasions, he’ll call Satoru his father. However, he knows those nights will always end in Satoru smothering him with affections and playful teases so he refrains from doing it often. Satoru does not take offense; he knows Megumi is shy. 
“Yeah, she takes good care of us, huh?” Satoru murmurs fondly as he rubs a hand over his son’s back. 
Before Satoru can reassure Megumi further, he’s interrupted when Suguru lets out a relieved sound over his shoulder. It’s a strange sort of combination of a sob and a gasp, but Satoru hears it all the same. 
“Sweetheart…?” Satoru hears Suguru call, voice brighter but still wavering through the short syllables. 
There’s a muffled sound of shuffling, then a groan and a cough before Suguru is concealing his tears in your neck. 
Satoru exhales with relief, shoulders sagging as his eyes slide shut. He rubs a hand over Megumi’s back in the hopes the boy doesn’t see the fear slowly seeping from his father. 
Inside the bathroom, Suguru clutches your hand tight to his chest, squeezing it thankfully and burying his face in your neck as he bends over you. Blinking slowly, you huff a choked breath and shakily reach upwards to lay your palm over Suguru’s head. Tangling your fingers in the mess of loose, dark hair you sigh deeply through your mouth. It’s a relief to feel Suguru bent over you; his weight presses into your chest and grounds you as you come back to consciousness. Though you’re still dizzy and a bit panicked, the feeling is beginning to leech from your limbs like poison from a wound. 
Waking up was startling, and there’s a lingering sense of fear buzzing beneath your skin. It frightens you, and you clutch tightly onto Suguru with a tremble. The pain still twists in your stomach, but it’s nothing compared to how you felt before you passed out. 
“Suguru…” 
His name comes out in a sort of pleading cry, not unlike a frightened child, but you cannot help the way you long for his comfort. Tears leak from your eyes, another wave of salt that you find you cannot control. 
Suguru responds to your call with a sweet coo, pressing a wet kiss to the skin of your throat and rumbling deep within his chest to reassure you that he’s still there. Brushing your hair from your eyes, Suguru leans away to peck your temple and stare down at you with relief painted across his features. 
“You’re alright, honey. ‘S okay,” he whispers warmly, soothing the tension in your brow and brushing your tears away. When your eyes crack open, staring up at him with waning fear and confusion, Suguru huffs a laugh and smiles widely. “Hey, pretty girl.” 
 Your lips quiver upwards into a sort of sad smile, but Suguru is happy to see it despite the exhaustion in your features. Squeezing his hand, you look up at the dark-haired sorcerer as his hair falls into his eyes. 
“Wha’ happened?” 
Suguru looks over his shoulder, mouthing something you can’t hear, but you know he must be talking to Satoru. The muffled sound of his voice barely reaches your ears as you wade through the stream of your consciousness. You fight to keep Suguru in focus, and fortunately manage to cling to the waking world as sounds finally return to your senses. Something that sounds like “she’s alright, Toru,” rings through the bathroom, and then there’s the sound of Satoru replying but you can’t hear it. Your heart calls out for your other husband, and you squeeze Suguru’s hand in question. 
“You passed out, darling,” Suguru looks back down at you with a sad smile. He hushes you when you wiggle, trying to sit upright. “Careful, love, careful. You scared the shit out of me, you know?” 
Shooting him a sorry glance, you allow Suguru to gently lift you to a seated position every so slowly. He leans you against him, his thick thighs on either side of your hips as he lets you rest against his chest. You nod slowly as he delicately pulls your hair from your face and wraps his arms around you. 
“Sorry.”
Suguru shakes his head with a hum. 
“Don’t apologize, baby,” he whispers. “I’m just glad you’re awake. Are you feeling alright? How’s the pain?”
You slouch into his chest, wrapping your arms around your waist and nodding as your eyes slide shut. 
“‘S not so bad. Where’s Toru?”
Suguru’s heart clenches sweetly, feeling warmed by your desire for Satoru. He adores the two of you with his entire being, and watching both of you always strikes a fond chord within his chest.
“He’s taking care of Gumi,” Suguru murmurs, looking down at you with a lovesick expression you cannot see. When you sit up straighter, Suguru accommodates your position with a scooch of his hips and his arm falling into your lap. 
“Gumi’s awake?”
“Yeah,” your husband responds quietly. “I think he heard me shout when you fell. He came in a few minutes ago, and Satoru’s comforting him.”
Suguru sounds a little guilty when he mentions his outburst. He’s not embarrassed by any means; it was a cry shouted in overwhelming fear, so he feels no bashfulness for the tone of his voice. He does, however, feel guilty that he managed to wake his son in the process. 
“He’s worried about you, I think.”
We all are, he almost finishes. 
You sag into Suguru’s chest, weight sinking into the warmth of his bare skin as you slide your hand over the arm that is wrapped around you. Just as you begin to speak, Satoru peeks his head through the doorway. His body is twisted, obscuring Megumi’s view inside the bathroom. When he finds your gaze, Satoru visibly softens. 
“Hey, sweet girl,” Satoru rumbles, a fond smile spreading across his features. “You feeling alright?”
You nod tiredly, resting your head against Suguru’s clavicle.
“That’s good. We were really worried, honey.” 
Your sigh through your nose, trying to give him an apologetic look, but the fatigue is beginning to pull your eyelids downwards. Satoru’s gaze softens even further, if at all possible, and he continues. 
“Can Megumi come in? He’s worried about you,” Satoru reiterates his partner’s words, clearly holding the boy against his chest as he speaks. 
You’re about to nod, more than happy to cuddle with your son, when Suguru interrupts. Stroking a hand over your hip, the long-haired sorcerer hums. 
“Let us come out, love,” he responds, already beginning to shift you in his lap. “We can talk about this in bed. I think everyone’s a little tired right now.” 
You nod in agreement, feeling the ache of your muscles cry out for rest. Your arm trembles weakly when you lift your hand, and you frown at the lack of strength in your limbs. Suguru hushes you sweetly as he shifts you to sit upright as he stands. 
“You’re exhausted, baby. It’s normal.” 
Satoru murmurs his agreement on the other side of the doorway, already beginning to step away to set Megumi in the middle of your massive bed. He ensures the boy is comfortable as he stands upright, stretching his shoulders and turning to watch as Suguru hoists you up onto his hips slowly. Satoru figured he wasn’t going to let you walk after what happened the first time you tried. 
Suguru’s hand is carefully cradling your head and the other wraps beneath your hips, keeping you stable and pressed against his big frame. The sorcerer is incredibly strong from the years of exorcizing curses and teaching students, so carrying you to the bed, despite your muffled protests, is an easy venture. 
Setting you on the bed gently, you shift quickly to face Megumi as you lay back against the sheets. You nestle quickly into Suguru’s previous place in bed, already reaching out for your son as he nuzzles forward to latch onto your front. 
“Hey, hun,” you whisper kindly, brushing dark strands from Megumi’s eyes. “What’s going on, Gumi?”
The boy looks up at you, still clutching his Divine Dog plush, and frowns. Your head tilts in confusion, and you watch as Megumi makes himself comfortable in your arms, cuddling close to your stomach and closing his eyes. You don’t protest, heart warming sweetly as the boy snuggles close. He doesn’t usually cuddle like this, so you’ll take every opportunity to hug him as you can. 
“Dad said you’re feeling bad,” he mumbles into the stuffed dog now pressed between you. “‘M gonna make you feel better. Like you do when I’m sick.” 
You smile. Heart full, your eyes slide shut as you lean forward to press a gentle kiss to the tired boy’s forehead. He mumbles something else, but he’s fading fast. Soon he’s lost to slumber, and he snoozes peacefully in your embrace. 
“Thank you, Megumi,” you whisper as you press another soft kiss to your son’s forehead. Looking up at Satoru with tears brimming in your eyes, you find the white-haired sorcerer is already looking at you. There’s fondness spilling from his smile and a sweet gentleness in his expression, and he looks utterly lovesick. 
“Hey,” Satoru murmurs. 
“Hi.” 
The Six Eyes user steps away for a moment, nodding at Suguru who whispers that he’s going to step out to get you water and your medicine. Satoru knows he’s also going to check in on the girls, so he gives Suguru a smile and a peck on the cheek as he slides around the bed to your back. 
When Satoru climbs into the silken sheets, he immediately presses his bare chest into your back and wraps his strong arms around you and his son. Pressing his soft lips to the nape of your neck, he pulls you and Megumi into his chest as he relaxes. You feel the familiar tingle of Infinity wrap around you and smile tiredly. Satoru is always protecting you and your family. The technique easily wraps around you and Megumi in addition to Satoru, and you know the sorcerer will easily adapt it to cover Suguru soon too. 
That’s just Satoru; he’s always looking out for his family. 
When you sigh deeply and snuggle back into your husband, Satoru presses another gentle kiss to your neck and you feel him shake. 
“Toru?”
The man shivers again, and when you shift, turning slightly to see his face, your face crumples as you find tears leaking from Satoru’s eyes. He looks utterly relieved, but his mouth still twitches in a sad sort of way and his sky-blue eyes shimmer with salty tears. For all his silly teasing and childlike humor, Satoru rarely looks so… scared. He’s always so strong – the strongest. But there are truly rare circumstances in which Gojo Satoru is confronted with true fear. 
Circumstances in which he remembers how vulnerable his family can be. 
“Oh, Satoru…”
Satoru buries his face in your neck again, concealing his tears as he calms down. 
“I was so worried, baby. Oh my God,” he mutters into your skin. “I woke up and you were on the floor and Sugu was crying…” 
You pull his hands tighter around you, careful not to wake Megumi. Stroking gentle circles into the muscle of his forearms, you coo a soft sound to soothe him. 
“‘M alright now. Just a little bit of pain, it’s mostly gone.”
Satoru nods, clinging to your back as he finally grounds himself through the gentle touch of your fingers on his skin. He pulls you closer, seeming as though he’s trying to fuse his body to yours with how tight he binds himself to you. It’s the soft contact of your skin against his that soothes the beat of his heart and loosens the tension of his muscles. The tingly feeling that lingers on his skin where you press into him leaves trails of prickled nerves in their wake, as if physical contact between your bare skin incites a biological reaction beneath his flesh. 
With you in his arms, tightly wrapped in his embrace where he can feel the pulse of your heart against his chest, Satoru finds serenity. 
You’re here. And you’re safe. 
Satoru chews on his lip as he sighs. 
“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers, tucking his chin into your neck and dropping a hand to rub his palm over the side of your stomach. It’s uncanny, you think, that he already knows exactly where it hurts without you mentioning it. Satoru pays far more attention than people give him credit for. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more to take it away.” 
You shake your head, fatigued eyes closing as you focus on the feeling of Satoru’s big hands and the gentle circles he massages into you. 
Satoru continues in a voice uncharacteristically weak for the Strongest. 
“You were… alone and in pain,” he mumbles, guilt seeping into his tone as he frowns. “And I didn’t even know – we didn’t.” 
Satoru carefully pulls your hair away from your neck to press a kiss to your bare shoulder and then one more against the skin of your throat. He inhales a wave of your familiar scent and flutters his eyes closed as he sinks into your back. 
“I don’t want you to suffer alone, my love.” 
You stroke a contemplative finger over his arm, humming quietly as you shift Megumi in your arms. 
“Okay, Toru,” you whisper as you find the mirth in your exhausted figure to tease him. “You want me to wake you up at the ass crack of dawn when I’ve got cramps?” 
Satoru muffles a small chuckle into your neck and you enjoy the feeling of his chest shaking with the feeling. 
“Yeah, baby. Even then. Especially then.” 
You huff a breath of laughter through your nose, only stopping when you swiftly inhale as another cramp seizes your abdomen. It’s strong, but nothing like the ones you were having earlier. You can manage these. Satoru leans up on his elbow when you stiffen, lifting his other hand to check the hot water bottle Suguru had returned to your stomach. 
When Satoru pulls the bottle away, his brow furrows and he hisses when he finds faint hints of inflamed skin where you’ve pressed it too tight to your belly. It’s too hot and too close, he realizes. It’s burning you. 
Satoru nearly sits upright quickly, his frame leaning over yours as he gasps faintly. 
“Honey…” He’s on the verge of scolding you, but he sees the way you wince through another cramp and decides against it. Satoru looks back down at the hot water bottle and the way you clutch it tightly to combat the waves of throbbing in your belly. 
“This is burning you,” he states it obviously. 
“Hmm,” you respond in agreement. “Feels nice.” 
Satory looks down at you with pain in his features, face twisted into a frown and his crystalline eyes a shade duller. 
“Baby, it’s hurting you – How can…?” 
Satoru trails off. He thinks about how terribly you must have been aching to continue pressing something that was burning you into your skin. How agonizing were your cramps that the pain of the burn was comforting? 
Satoru lays back down, a frown on his lips as he wraps his arm back around you and lays his palm over the hot water bottle. If you’re going to keep it pressed into your skin, then he can make sure it doesn’t get too warm by leaving his hand against it.
“My god, baby… I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He can’t even comprehend how agonizing this must be for you. Satoru kisses your nape again. He apologizes again, and you almost miss the silly Satoru who would typically be teasing you right now. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything.” 
You yawn, finally feeling exhaustion begin to drag you beneath the slow, rocking waves of slumber. Pushing yourself deeper into your husband’s embrace and squeezing your son tight once more, you sigh out a few more words before you finally sink into sleep’s warm hands. 
“You are doing something,” you murmur, pulling his hand up to your mouth to kiss it tiredly. “You’re here, Satoru. I don’t think I can do this alone anymore.” 
When Suguru climbs back into bed on Megumi’s other side, he kisses the fond smile on Satoru’s lips and teases his partner about the stars in his eyes. The crystalline-eyed sorcerer refutes Suguru’s quip by reaching out to gently slap his bicep, but it’s all in mirthful adoration. Suguru leans over to press a tender kiss to your sleeping brow and then one to his son’s, before he settles behind Megumi and sighs contentedly. 
“She’s sleeping?” Suguru whispers, voice barely carried through the quiet night. He stares down at your face, the peaceful expression on your lips far more comforting than the limp, placid look of unconsciousness he remembers. Satoru watches his husband watch you, adoration swelling in his heart like an ebbing tide. Unbound by all but the moon, Satoru swears his heart only grows fonder each time he truly takes in his partners. 
“She’s sleeping,” he confirms sleepily, still staring up at Suguru with warmth in his chest. 
“Good.” 
Suguru’s response is sighed out thankfully, his shoulders deflating with the tension easing away from his muscle. He wraps his arms around Megumi and pulls himself closer to the boy, smiling when he easily cuddles into his father. Not often does Suguru have the opportunity to snuggle his son, so he eagerly grins as Megumi’s sleeping form curls near. 
“She’s early,” Satoru mentions plainly from across Suguru. “She wasn’t supposed to start until next week.”
The dark-haired sorcerer nods, recalling the date he marked in his phone. He and Satoru both kept track; it was easier that way. At this point, though, Suguru is certain he doesn't need his calendar to know these things. Your anniversary is ingrained in his memory, as is every one of your important dates. The three of you have spent more than a decade together, this kind of instinct was certain to develop at some point or another. 
“Yeah,” Suguru sighs. He twists slowly to glance tiredly at the clock on his bedside. “She took some painkillers at midnight, can you write that down? If she wakes again she can take some more.” 
Satoru nods, a hand already reaching for his phone on the nightstand behind him. It was second-nature to jot down the time you took medication. You always tried to keep track yourself, but sometimes noting the time slipped your mind, and you were left trying to recall the last time you took them. Satoru easily adds the time to his notes, and marks the date in his calendar to adjust your future schedule later. He checks that there’s still a bottle of your preferred painkiller in his nightstand drawer and a granola bar to eat when you take them. 
When he sets the phone down, he looks back over at Suguru, who sleepily stares down at your sleeping face. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but Satoru can see where Suguru has slid his around yours, pressing two of his fingers into the pulse point of your wrist. 
He’s counting your heartbeats – making sure you’re still breathing. Because Suguru remembers the way you crumpled all too clearly. 
Sighing a shaking breath as he familiarizes himself with the gentle thump of your lifeline, Satoru slides a hand around you and his son, and he lays it across his lover with a sad smile. Suguru looks up with tired eyes, the dark bags beneath his lashes barely visible in the night hour. They match the ones beneath your eyes and probably Satoru’s too. 
“Hey,” Satoru mumbles. “She’s alright, Sugu.” 
Suguru nods, finally sinking into the mattress and pressing a final kiss to Megumi’s hair as he makes himself comfortable. Satoru does the same, delicately squeezing the hand still wrapped around yours and cradled sweetly at your chest. 
“We’re alright,” Suguru confirms, eyes finally sinking closed as he falls back asleep with part of his family in his embrace. “We’re alright.” 
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In the morning, you awake to two Divine Dogs guarding the foot of your bed. The white one sits with its side pressed against the dark one, and both face the bedroom door. You awake alone in bed, but you can hear distant voices quietly chatting in the hall. The little pups’ ears are perked upwards, diligently listening to the conversation outside. 
When you sit up, the white one flips his head over his shoulder, happily sticking his tongue out in a joyful expression. He pants and his tail thumps against the floor as you beckon him closer. 
“Good morning, pup,” you laugh as it wiggles excitedly when you scratch behind his ears. The dark-coated one quickly follows soon after, eagerly joining his brother for scratches. “What are you two doin’ here?” 
The pups tilt their heads with that silly, tongue-out expression, as if communicating their eagerness. You stifle your laughter and carefully stand from the sheets, making your way into the kitchen with the dogs on your heels. 
When you enter the living space, you find Suguru on the couch with the twins on either side of his lap. They’re eagerly leaning over one of Suguru’s books, excitedly murmuring amongst themselves as their father reads aloud. It’s one of his novels, and you chuckle knowing that the girls were probably the ones to pick it out for him to read. 
Tsumiki is at the table, leaning over some kind of puzzle, and her brother is at her side. She looks up as you come in, offering you a gentle smile and a nod before she goes back to her puzzle. Megumi sits on his knees in the chair, spiky hair unkempt as always and a look of concentration on his face. 
Before you can speak, Satoru is pressed against your back, greeting you with a gentle hum.
“G’morning, sweetheart,” he coos, pecking your cheek and sliding a croissant into your hands and holding a glass of water in his other. “Eat up. You can take some medicine when you’re done.” 
He always makes sure you eat before you take your medicine. Your heart thumps happily beneath your ribs, and you smile in return, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and thanking him. 
“Thanks, love.” 
Satoru hums and slides his free hand over your waist to squeeze your hip. He opens his mouth to say something, but the twins interrupt him. They gasp, standing from Suguru’s lap and eagerly racing over to greet you. 
Suguru chuckles, but still gently chides them as they race into the kitchen. 
“Careful!” 
Nanako and Mimiko crash into your hips with eager sounds, each grabbing you around the waist and crying out.
“Mama!” They cry worriedly, scrambling to hug you as they bury their faces in your legs. They start pushing you towards the couch with little hands, earnestly murmuring things you cannot make out. You look up at Satoru with a confused furrow of your brow, and your husband only chuckles and holds his hands up in a gesture of ‘i’ve got nothing to do with this.’ 
When you reach the couch, the girls scramble to make you sit beside Suguru, who is all too eager to wrap an arm around your shoulders to accommodate your arrival. 
“Good morning,” he hums as he pecks your temple. 
Nanako is already sliding a blanket into your lap as Mimiko climbs onto the couch, depositing herself at your side and snuggling into you. 
“Good morning,” you respond, watching with a fond smile as the girls make themselves comfortable in your lap. “What’s all this?” 
Suguru chuckles, reaching out to gently ruffle Nanako’s hair as she smiles. The girl looks up at her father with a beaming grin and snuggles closer to you when you wrap an arm around her to keep her stable. Your husband leans closer with a smile, murmuring quietly for only you to hear. 
“Megumi told them you were sick last night,” he fondly whispers. “I think it worried them.” 
Your head tilts in an expression of tenderness, and you give Suguru a knowing look before you lean down to kiss both your girls on the forehead. 
“Good morning, girls,” you rumble happily. “I’m alright, sweethearts. Megumi and your dads took very good care of me.”
Mimiko wiggles closer, snuggling into you and her sister with big, worried eyes. 
“Really?” her tiny voice murmurs. “Megumi-nii said you were hurting.” 
You can almost hear the pout in her voice without looking down at her. Giggling happily, you stroke a hand over her head and squeeze her close. 
“He even brought out his puppies!” Nanako quickly adds, squirming as he attempts to find the two Divine Dogs. “He said we couldn’t come in to see you because you needed to rest.” 
The two Shikigami have already returned to their owner, sitting on either side of Megumi’s chair with wagging tails and their tongues still sticking out. The boy is absentmindedly petting one while he focuses on the puzzle, shyly avoiding your gaze as if embarrassed. 
Your heart clenches sweetly again, and you turn to look at Satoru with a knowing smile. The sorcerer returns the look as he steps into the kitchen for your painkillers, ruffling Megumi’s hair as he goes. The boy lets out a muffled sound of discontent, but he doesn’t fix his messy strands. 
“Did he? That’s very sweet of him.” 
You and Suguru do not mention the faint pinkness of Megumi’s round cheeks. 
When you lean into Suguru’s side, the croissant in your hand warm like your lover’s body heat, you sigh happily. The cramps are a faint memory now, even though you know they’ll return soon. For now, you can savor the warmth of your family. 
“You’re taking the day off then, I suppose,” you look up at Suguru with an arched brow. Suguru smiles, leaning his head into yours to rest there. 
“Yeah,” he sighs, cuddling close to you and the twins. “We all are.” 
You suppose you can deal with the consequences of their unscheduled departure from work and school later… You’re far too warm and content now. When Satoru returns, sliding a glass of water into your empty hand and two painkillers into your other, he patiently waits as you take the pills. Then he sets the glass on the side table beside the mug of raspberry leaf tea he brewed for your cramps,  and then he eagerly dives into the limited space left on the couch. 
Scrambling into the twins’ space, Nanako and Mimiko giggle happily as Satoru presses kisses over their faces and squirms onto the couch. He plops Mimiko into his lap so he can sit at your side, laughing when the girls squeal happily. As you settle, you see Megumi look up from the table, shyly glancing away from his sister. Tsumiki gives him a knowing look as she climbs from her chair and eagerly walks over to Suguru. 
Suguru is too happy to allow her the tiny portion of space on his other side, and Tsumiki slides onto the couch, her side pressed tight to Suguru’s. She offers you a good morning and laughs when the twins attempt to squirm away from Satoru’s tickling fingers. 
Eventually Megumi stands from his place at the table, looking over at the couch as he debates something internally. A moment later, he stands in front of Suguru, shyly shifting on his feet as he looks at the only empty space on the couch. 
Megumi doesn’t need to say anything, because Suguru is already lifting the boy into his lap with a smile. Saving his son the embarrassment of shyly asking for the affection he usually avoids, Suguru chuckles as he deposits the last member of his family into his lap. 
“We could all use a day off,” he murmurs into your temple as he kisses you sweetly. 
You sigh happily, soaking in the warmth of the morning sun and the laughter of your family. 
“Yeah, that sounds nice.” 
The moment is only interrupted when Megumi’s Divine Dogs, only pups at this age, launch themselves onto the couch, eager to join the snuggles. The seven of you dissolve into laughter as you try to maneuver the excited puppies, and you can’t ask for anything else. 
“Megumi!” You laugh, trying to brush white dog hair from your face. “Control your summons!” 
The boy only laughs happily as the dark-coated puppy wiggles into his lap. 
No, he doesn’t think he will. 
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bonus:
gojo, looking down at reader and geto: you're so cute and pretty
reader, sleepily: I could beat the shit out of you
geto, nodding along: she could
gojo, lovingly: I know
a/n: no I am not back to writing just yet :')) I wrote this in a pain induced haze while having some terrible cramps so if you have terrible periods like me, this one is for you! this is purely based on my experience with cramps, and everyone is different, but I just wanted to write something for me :") I've never passed out but I've felt like it and I know it's super scary so I hope this can provide some comfort for you if you need it <3
ALSO this was written as comfort for jjk 236 :'))) bc everyone in this fic deserved better and I refuse to acknowledge canon
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9K notes · View notes
onlyswan · 1 year
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summary: in which jungkook can’t sleep, and he can’t stop kissing you either.
> fluff, suggestive / word count: 2.6k
> content/warnings: alexa play seven by jungkook! mentions of s^x, lots and lots of cutie kisses :( they’re in that afterglow <3 oc’s chest is his pillow :(
> in which masterlist!
note: hi hi. here’s ur slice of pure self indulgent fluff 🍰 i just had to write abt this jk :P there’s a reference to in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you 🥹 reblogs & feedback are vv appreciated. i’d love to hear ur thoughts so feel free to scream or laugh or cry <3
a fleeting white light passes through your closed eyelids, nearly blinding, as you hear the familiar shutter of your boyfriend’s polaroid camera.
“jungkook,” you whimper weakly due to the sudden disturbance, burying your face on the soft pillows while pushing the camera away.
“shit, shit- sorry, baby-” he winces, guilty of disrupting your journey to slumber, as he scrambles to fix his mistake. “forgot to turn off the flash.”
he places the polaroid face down on the space behind him to give it the time to develop the photo he had taken. much to your relief, the bedroom falls silent once more except for the quiet humming and breathing of the airconditioner. you return to properly laying your head on the pillow, taking a small gasp of oxygen, and jungkook smiles because of how adorable you are for still refusing to open your eyes.
“can i take more pictures?”
“did you turn it off?” you whisper as you stretch your legs to find a more comfortable position, unwittingly pulling down the comforter and exposing your nakedness to the cool air. this gives rise to goosebumps on your skin, causing you to shiver, but your boyfriend is quick to your rescue. he catches the hem before it could slide past your skimpy shorts.
“i did.”
a chaste kiss is planted on your shoulder before it is returned underneath the warmth of soft layers of cotton and fabric.
you sigh, melting back into relaxation. “okay.”
he re-anchors his elbow into the mattress, resting his head on his palm to admire the majestic view of you. jungkook likes this a lot, he lives for it— lying on the bed face-to-face with his sated lover, spending the rest of the night feeling like his heart is not a big enough vessel to hold all the love he has for you. the lights he is yet to turn off have splashed the dark room with a red glow that engulfs your figure as well, escalating his heartbeat, so hypnotic and tantalizing, he finds himself breathing heavier and heavier behind the viewfinder, or maybe he has stopped breathing at all. the shutter briefly fills the silence.
this is… the arch of your back is burned in his mind and he swears he still tastes you on his tongue, but seeing you like this feels so different.
he was consumed by his pleasure and yours just half an hour ago, admittedly almost blinded by his own sweat dripping from his forehead because he simply couldn’t stop wanting more of you, giving himself to you. you weren’t exactly innocent either, with your provocative touches and coquettish smiles, whispering lewd words that was gasoline to the lust flaring up inside of him. he revels in seeing that you’re just as desperate for it as he is, if not more, purely from the way you beseech him with your eyes mirroring stained glass windows. he knows you love it when he fucks you so good it brings you to tears, welcoming the delightful intensity of his nature, and that you were also trying to tire him out so he’d finally feel sleepy, but holy shit, looking at you right now, he wants nothing more but to hold you with utmost gentleness.
wildly concentrated with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth, he brushes away the hair that fell on your face before capturing another exquisite memory to be burned into film.
jungkook is greedy when it comes to you.
a disgruntled whine slips from your mouth when the pillow underneath your head is replaced by his thick arm, which is then rudely cut off by his lips crashing on yours.
clearly, you’ve grown too comfortable in this relationship.
“i love you.” he drunkenly mutters, instantly going for another kiss and barely finishing his another- “i love you.” before he’s kissing you again.
“babe-” you chuckle then gasp, holding on to his wrist as his tattooed hand loosely wraps around your neck.
“i love you. i love you, i love y- i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you.” he repeats himself over and over, the volume of his voice gradually getting quieter as he runs out of breath, until his tongue becomes tied. grounded by the feeling of your steady pulse beneath his thumb, he silences himself by tenderly kissing you, soft lips molding with yours for a wordless declaration of devotion this time around.
pure static— there are no thoughts running in your head. your limbs feel numb but tingly. you feel like you’re floating- no, you’re falling. the bed has turned into an abyss and you’re falling endlessly and jungkook holding you close is the only thing that makes sense. you might have to consider this true heaven, nothingness with your everything, when the whole world is lights-out and quiet that it feels like time has been suspended, and the only way to keep track of it is through each pump of your heart.
at last, your eyelids slowly flutter open as he pulls away, and he greets you with that boyish grin. “pretty.”
his hand on your neck moves to stroke your face lovingly, eyes glimmering with various emotions as they wander your features.
“____ is so, so pretty.”
“hm, really?” you hum sleepily, leaning closer to his touch. “thanks to you.”
“me?” his doe eyes widen in confusion.
“you know, for the afterglow. i feel nice.” you giggle brightly at your own half-joke, positively out of your goddamn mind as you hide your warm face on his shoulder.
“ahhh- ah!”
enlightenment then dawns on your boyfriend.
his giggles blend in with yours for a harmony that strikes the same joy as the sound of wind chimes on a windy day.
jungkook tries not to appear too cocky about the compliment, but consequences be damned, he would die satisfying his lover.
“oh yeah, baby? do you now?” there’s a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face when you take a peek at him, which then morphs into a grin when your eyes meet. “i feel nice, too.”
“nice?” your voice comes out delicate, droopy eyes asking him for confirmation.
“nice.”
he feels a tug at his heartstrings.
“you know what? fucking great… i could never have enough of you.”
it becomes silent for a while. his tattooed hand slides under the comforter, letting his fingers skim across the side of your waist, feather-light touches on your bare skin before he’s pulling you closer to his body.
“i… i don’t doubt that feelings like this can only grow as time goes on but… it’s still amazing that when i think about it, even until now, all the time, i want to be with you.”
he involuntarily breathes out a shaky sigh, ears going red as they do when he’s expressing sincerity from the deepest parts of his soul.
“really, how do you do this…? what is this magic? why- why do i like you so much? i mean, i know why! of course! but, wow!” he squeezes his eyes shut to express his disbelief, clicking his head to the side. “it’s possible for it to be this much? do you get what i’m saying? i just have thoughts like that— love is so fascinating.”
you barely process his words with your brain still in a haze of bliss, but it’s funny, hearing these questions from the same man who has the entire world madly obsessed with him.
oh, this actually sounds familiar. he’s getting all sentimental and philosophical. again. and he’s not drunk. were you that good tonight?
“i won’t give away my secrets just like that. what if you use them on someone else?” you tease him, rubbing your tired eyes and shaking your head as you giggle.
you receive a dirty look from him, clearly offended and uninterested in the thought of putting in the hard effort to impress someone that isn’t you.
“aish, stop talking! i don’t like hearing you talk in that way.”
“then what else am i supposed to do? you’re the one who woke me up.” you retort in annoyance.
but you honestly don’t think there’s any secret to tell. jungkook is in love with you. plain and simple.
“you’re right, i’m sorry. go back to sleep if you want to.”
he dips down to plant gentle pecks on your shoulder, going down on a trail to your neck, and you unconsciously tilt your head to his convenience because he’s bringing the butterflies in your stomach back to life. it feels good, everything he does always feels good.
“you’re seriously not done?” you mumble against his lips, unfaltering with the kisses as if he would run out of them any minute now.
he stubbornly answers with a “no!” as his lips ghost over your cheek.
if only bam was here, jungkook would eventually leave you alone to rest. he would pester him with his late-night burst of affection instead while talking shit about you to your child because you dodged his kiss in your sleep.
“babe, you’re supposed to sleep. you have work later.”
“no, i don’t want to sleep. i… i want to kiss you- baby.” he protests as he continues to pepper your face with kisses, giving your body a particularly tight squeeze when he searches for your lips again.
you blink at him in confusion when he suddenly sends you a look of irritation, eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring.
“you haven’t even said ‘i love you’ back yet.”
“oh, i haven’t?” you wince innocently. “sorry. i love you.”
but he should be the one apologizing to you, since it’s his fault that you still can’t think straight, or walk for that matter.
you pat around the mattress behind his back until you stumble upon the camera, and it’s jungkook’s turn to be your beloved muse. you scoot away until the lens manage to capture him down to his shirtless abdomen. you watch him in complete awe behind the viewfinder. he squints at you, raising his eyebrows flirtatiously, and he smirks when you chuckle in amusement.
“ah wait- take this! take this! you have to take a good one, got it? i worked so hard on them yesterday!” he eagerly voices out a special demand.
he shuffles to flex his arm infront of the camera, showing off his well-defined triceps and biceps while releasing rich, throaty grunts. totally unnecessary, but so achingly jungkook.
your boyfriend is outrageously, ridiculously sexy— he’s still wearing that stupid black headband he hastily put on in the middle of sex because he got pissed off at his hair and he needed it out of the way so he could ‘properly see his love’s beautiful body.’
you roll your eyes inside your head.
what a fucking tease.
nonetheless, you acquiesce.
the flash goes off.
and another polaroid is crafted into existence that you selfishly want to keep for your eyes only.
“baby, let me see.”
“it’s mine!” you scrunch your nose with a childlike charm, hiding the polaroid behind your back.
he chuckles, hopelessly endeared by you.
“yes, i’m yours.” he coos in response.
and your unguarded heart is once again swept away by the taste of his tongue. the camera becomes an abandoned item. your fingers daintily pushes off his headband in favor of freely tangling them with his silky hair, and it also ends up getting lost somewhere in the sheets as his sweet kisses lull you in a false sense of security… because out of nowhere, that same blazing light burns through your closed eyes for the second time tonight.
jungkook playfully waves the polaroid infront of your face, and his toothy grin is met by your unimpressed expression.
“this is mine!”
he has been waiting to jump into this type of opportunity, to orchestrate a romantic moment to be stolen in film— you can tell by the sparkles in his eyes. reminiscent of that one late night in a tiny photobooth where your younger and clueless selves were cramped in, this is what you and his hyungs often talk about, how much you share the same fondness for the fact that jungkook hasn’t changed at all.
“just how many pictures of you kissing me do you need?” you ask him lightheartedly.
he juts out his bottom lip sullenly, and a few beats pass before he forms an answer. “i always need more for when i miss you.”
you copy his frown. “then what about me when i’m missing you too?”
“hmmm… i want you to always remember me like this, baby.” he melodramatically declares as he picks up the one and only polaroid you’ve taken of him tonight. “can you see my abs too…? oh- it’s not showing yet.”
he looks back at you shyly with a laugh, and he places it back down to let it continue developing.
“i’ll look later. i can’t even keep my eyes open anymore. ‘m so tired.” you sadly sniffle to gain his pity, fluttering your damp eyelashes at him. “let’s go to sleep, please?”
jungkook doesn’t find it in himself to articulate a consolation or protest, not when you’re tugging him down to coax him into laying his head on your chest.
“heaven.” he moans, overcome by contentment.
he adjusts himself a bit to be more comfortable before dragging the comforter further upwards to provide warmth for the two of you, all the while refusing to remove his face nuzzled up against you.
“why are you always like this? can you even breathe?” you chuckle with your eyes closed.
“i love your boobs.” his honest reply comes out muffled, cute for some reason, along with his satisfied hums prompted by your nails lightly scratching his scalp.
“i know.”
he turns his head to the side to look up at you, and he carries on to speak with his cheek squished against you. “i really, really mean it.”
“yes, baby. i believe you.”
a minute of silence passes. the ecstasy still flooding your veins becomes a stepping stone in the pond towards your dreamland, where all is either fantastically perfect or horrifically fucked up.
but then you feel sloppy kisses being deliberately scattered in the middle of your chest, leading down to your stomach, and you get rudely knocked over into the cold, clear waters.
yes, plea- oh no, no, no, no.
“jungkook, baby, stop. i can’t go another round.” you whine pathetically, being driven closer to the urge to burst into tears.
“AH! o-ow- ouch- baby, wha- i swear, i wasn’t even planning on it!” he loudly exclaims in surprise when you harshly pull him away by his hair.
“still…” your voice cracks. “you know i’ll get turned on!”
his chuckles are infuriatingly raspy and of no help at all, ego inflating upon hearing your response and the frustration obviously laced with it.
“okay, okay! i’m sorry! i’ll behave now!”
thank god.
he assumes his previous position, the place that he deems to be the warmest and the coziest. as he wraps his arms around your waist, your fist relaxes into an open palm that cradles the back of his head.
“____?” he mumbles, finally feeling the tiredness seep into his sore muscles now that he’s lying motionless.
“hmm?”
“let’s eat dinner outside after work.”
“…meat?”
“and beer!” he adds, brimming with excitement, and he salivates as he can almost taste them in his mouth already. they are his favorite, after all.
“i’ll come pick you up then.” you drop a kiss on his forehead, and he sighs happily. “but go to sleep or else i’ll kick you out of the bedroom again.”
his sweet embrace becomes an iron grip.
cold and alone, he swears those were some of the worst three hours of his life.
he squeaks in defeat. “goodnight, baby.”
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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bandgie · 3 months
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Just Once - Say Yes
werewolf!Chan x fem!reader
warnings! MDNI 18+, biting, very slight blood mentions, PIV, no protection, rut, knotting, fingering, nipple play, reader says it hurts once, breeding mentions, monsterfucking? (I could have done more)
notes! you know im down bad when I get wet from just seeing images of chan like what the fuck?
2.5k words
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Chan knows he’s not supposed to be here, yet, that’s exactly where he is. It’s almost as if he’s not in control of his body and in a way he’s not. Your scent fills his nose even through the shut door of your bedroom. You’re sleeping, he figures. He can hear your steady, slow breaths and the gentle snores. 
His feet are planted, head resting on the wooden door as he groans. Chan wants so desperately to wake you up. To softly knock on your door until you answer in the dead of the night. Maybe seeing you will satiate his thirst. Just a glance at your figure can help him - it will be enough, but he’s not thinking rationally right now. He can’t. Not when his rut is at an all-time high. Chan is on top of his suppressors, but his breeding period and the full moon makes for an unbearable combo. 
He knows you will answer no matter how late it is. Chan can easily imagine you opening the door, dazed and confused. He would tell you he’s having a hard time by himself, tell you that he desperately needs your help.
Or maybe he wouldn’t say anything at all. He could just grab your plush hips and pull you into a kiss. Maybe you’d mumble sleepy questions, squeak when his hands find the fat of your ass, but you’d let him. He knows you would. 
That’s why he has to leave. Now. His cock throbs just thinking about how pliant you are for him. He tells himself that he’ll be satisfied with his hand or his fleshight which makes a shitty substitute. Chan knows breeding a human during such an intense time would be too much, too rough for them. As much as his body and wolf beg for you, that sliver of humanity is intact.
So he whines, quiet and high. Chan wills his legs to move, stepping back until he’s no longer pressed against your door. The floorboards creak under his feet with every step. He swears they’re telling him to go back, to bang on your door and pump you until he’s sure you’re knocked up. He really has lost it, convinced that the wood beneath is telling him to screw you.
Unbelievable. 
He’s too busy laughing and fighting with himself to hear you slip out of bed. Chan misses your quiet feet treading to your bedroom door, slowly opening it as you adjust your eyes in the dark. 
“Channie?”
The floorboards must be cursed to sound like you or maybe his rut is just that bad. He tried to brush off your call as him going insane, but the hair on his neck stands and the smell of you is so much stronger. Chan doesn’t want to turn around for your sake. His composure will break and he doesn’t want to imagine what you look like right now. 
“What are you doing out here?” You sound so tired barely coming out of your slumber. Chan doesn’t sense any fear from you, not even worry. You’re far too sleepy to feel anything beyond confusion. The trust you have for your lover, even if he is half beast, is endearing. It makes his heart swell and his stomach turn. He can’t tell if your love for him is naive or pure. Perhaps both.
He’s going to tell you that he’s okay. He just had a bad dream and needed to walk around the house for a bit. It’s not uncommon to see your boyfriend wandering the house late at night; you know how difficult it is for him to sleep. Chan was going to tell you, but he felt your hand wrap around his bicep. You gently tug him until he faces you and what a mistake that is. You’re dressed in a shirt much too big for you, his shirt. It barely goes past your ass and your pebbled nipples poke through the fabric. Your eyes are squinted, lips swollen from sleep. Chan’s eyes are captivated by your human beauty when you say, “Channie, is everything okay?”
No, everything is not okay. Chan’s been fucking into his hand for hours pretending it’s you - he’s knotted into his toy countless times. When he did get the stupid courage to go to your door, he backed away. It’s even worse now his cock is leaking being so close to you.
You should have stayed sleeping.
His strong arms wrap around your torso, pulling you in. There’s no time to question him when Chan presses his lips against yours. Your lover is usually gentle during kisses. He takes time to cup your cheek, to tilt his head so your mouths can better align. If he was really into it, he would suck on your bottom lip only to bite it until you gasped.
He doesn’t kiss you like that now, not even in the slightest. His hands cup your ass just as he imagined. They knead and dig into your flesh, pressing you flush against his crotch. His lips are rough and messy. Your teeth clash almost animalistically and he hears you whine into the kiss. Chan can’t tell if you're whining due to the neediness from his mouth or cock. He knows you can feel his stiffness against your leg. 
Your dainty hands find his chest to gently push at it. Chan’s usually good at reading the room, knowing what to do and when to do it. But this isn’t your Channie. He can’t even feel your fists when he keeps shoving his tongue down your throat. The taste of you is addicting. All he wants to do is feel you from the inside out. To have every part of him connected with you in the most primal way. 
It’s not until you whimper again that he notices. Chan sucks harshly on your tongue before he pulls away with a string of saliva connecting your mouths. His eyes are dazed when he looks at your features. Your face is flushed and your eyes are wide. If you were still asleep before, you’re wide awake now. Chan can tell you’re trying to come up with what to say, but you already know. You can feel his boner on your thigh, you can see the glow in his eyes, and the fact that his body seems thicker, denser. Chan has only let you see him during the end of his rut. He’ll lock himself in his room for days until he’s ready to socialize. You could always hear him on the other side though. How the slick sounds of whatever he’s using are surely filled with cum. If you pressed your ear against the frame, you could hear him softly calling out your name. You wanted to see him so bad. No matter how many times you asked, Chan would turn you down. It’s too dangerous, he’d said. I don't want to hurt you.
But that Chan is nowhere to be found. Instead, you’re faced with the very wolf he’s tried so desperately to keep you from. 
“Sorry,” he already knows what trouble you’ll be in tonight. “Hurts so bad. I can’t take it.” Chan grinds his cock to show you. “Just one knot. Just one I promise.” Ah, a promise. You both know how much Chan loves keeping his promises, but this is one he doesn’t know you’re hoping he’ll break. 
He doesn’t even know why he’s asking. He doesn’t think stopping is possible at this point, but he’d try. Chan is already trying to ignore how his lips ache for yours and stop thinking about how perfectly your body molds into his, but you hold on to him tighter. 
Chan doesn’t hear you say yes with how loud his blood drums in his ears, but he does see you nod. The sultry look in your eyes will do you more harm than good. He doesn't ask twice, doesn’t think twice. He smashes his lips against yours again, walking you back to your room without caring how you trip over your own feet. 
You feel the bed on the back of your knees and Chan rips himself from the kiss. He pushes you on the mattress, quickly crawling over you as one of his hands lifts the shirt to your shoulder. You gasp at how quickly he’s moving. His hot mouth is already latched onto your nipple while his hand dips past your underwear. 
By some magic, you’re already wet. Chan only plays with your clit for seconds before dripping his thick fingers into your heat. Squeals and wet pumps fill the room. Your back arches when he bites on your nipple, tugging the bud and letting go before doing it all over again. Bruises are already forming on your breast and Chan is eager to make your other match. His slick fingers pull from your pussy to tug your underwear down instead.
Your panties hang from one ankle, legs wide as Chan settles between them. The entrance of your cunt slightly gapes from his fingers. No time is wasted as he shrugs his boxers off, eyes never leaving your core. You almost want to close your legs from his staring, but you would miss the view of his cock springing free. 
“Oh shit,” you gawk at his size. Chan’s always been thick, a fat head that always stretches you out just right. But this - this is massive. His rut must make everything bigger. Even the knot that sits at the base of his cock seems triple in size. “Channie, I don’t think- there’s no way in hell you can fit.”
But he’s already stroking himself. Your worries fall on deaf ears when his fat tip touches your clit. He moans at the feeling of your lips around him. He presses his cock so that it grinds against your flesh hard. Your mouth falls open, gaze dropping so you can see him rock against your pussy. 
You think you could cum just like this. His engorged cock provides the perfect veins and ridges for stimulation. Still, your cunt clenches pathetically around nothing. Curiosity is a dangerous thing. It makes you think about what it would feel like to have his raw cock in you. Chan can tell you’re ready for it when you start grinding back, tilting your hips so his tip catches your entrance. 
It’s going to fit - he’ll make sure. Even if you cry and beg for him to slow down, he knows your body will break for him.
And it does just that with the first intrusion. The swell of his cock easily slides into you with a few inches following before he meets the inevitable resistance of your tight cunt. You whine, hands finding purchase on the pillow beneath you. It doesn't hurt, not in the slightest, but you can feel the pressure. Your walls clench and squeeze his girth until he forces himself to pull an inch out.
“Baby, shit,” he breathes. Chan attempts to gain composure through controlled inhales and exhales. “Why are you always so tight?”
Before you can even think about answering his rhetorical question, he thrusts himself deeper. Chan follows his breath, using his airflow as a metronome. In, out, in, out. Deeper, inch by inch, before he sees his knot come to contact with your cunt. 
He’s trying, really trying not to just pin your hands down by your sides and fuck his hips into you. Instead, he keeps his hands at your thighs, but he’s not sure if that’s any better. Chan’s claws dig into your tender flesh leaving marks that nearly split your skin. It must hurt with how hard he’s gripping you but your eyes roll to the back of your head with every thrust. 
Just like he thought, you’re so good to him. Even with your pretty whines and whimpers, you’re still such a good girl for your Channie.
Such a good girl.
It gets to him: your flushed cheeks, your bouncing tits, the moans that tumble from your swollen lips, and how your hands have moved from the pillow to try and grasp onto him instead. You must want more, he reasons. You must with the cream he sees coating his length every time he pulls out. You must with how you’re chanting his name, nearly sobbing it. 
You must with how you make his knot ache, begging to already shove its way inside you and spill. 
Chan can imagine it, he can taste it. It’s such a strong need that he growls, his sharp canines showing from his lips pulled back into an animalistic snarl. Saliva drips down his teeth when he thinks about biting you. Leaving marks on your neck that will only help hold you down while his knot finds its place in your womb. You hardly notice the droll seeping your tummy, too caught up with how harshly Chan is fucking into you.
You do, however, feel how his hips change pace. They get harder, sloppier as if he’s trying to shove that god-forsaken knot into you. 
“Channie!” It’s half-panicked and half-breathless. “Wait! That’s not - hng! I can’t-”
“You can,” he snarls. “And I will.”
Now you can see his teeth that clamp down so hard that his drool is tinted with pink. This is the first time you’ve seen him for what he truly is - a beast. A monster in its purest form with eyes that seem to glow, pitch-black nails that will surely leave marks for weeks, and canines you know can shred you in a second. 
Even with all of that, you know that this man - this wolf - is Channie. Your Channie.
So you don’t whine against him anymore. You don’t try to escape him when he lays his head in between your shoulder and neck to sink his teeth into. You embrace the bite, fully expecting unbearable pain, but instead, it’s blinded by the stretch of his knot in you.
Pleasure and pain intertwine, unable to separate from each other when Chan completely surrounds you. But your body reacts before your brain can. You let out a yelp and scratch your dull nails down his sculpted back. Chan moans into your neck at the feeling, shoving his hips impossibly deeper just to feel you do it again. 
“Sh-shit! Channie! Hurts…” but he doesn’t see your eyes roll to the back of your head at the feeling of his seed pumping into you. 
Chan doesn’t reply, can’t reply with how he’s pulled his teeth from you and begun licking your wounds. But he knows. His balls tense and release with every spurt of cum he gives you and you whimper with every pump. 
He’ll apologize in the morning; pamper you and make sure that you’re well rested. He’ll make sure to take care of you real good, especially with the chance of you giving him pups. 
Fuck. He can’t think like that. His cock jumps at the thought and he swears his knot swells all over again. Chan inhales your human scent, reminding him that you’re his priority no matter how much his rut makes him needy to breed. But even in his frenzy state, he doesn’t dare to tell you knotting can last up to 30 minutes.
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bamjio · 2 months
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❛ 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘆 ❜— ✿ .. deadpool headcanonns!
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BEING WADE WILSONS' ONE AND ONLY ❛ WIFE. ❜ !
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⋆˚✿˖° — CLINGY! it's honestly feels suffocating. Does he know personal space? of course. does he oblige to that rule? he'd rather dig logans burial.
— it doesn't matter, wade believes that if you love someone you won't let them go, literally.
— you'd always wake up to him tightly hugging you down, his arms and legs hovering your figure. don't think of letting go, cause he'll just grip more.
— expect him to go over your workplace and hang out there till the end of your shift, he won't budge even if the manager threatened to call the cops.
— goodness, he's just so obsessed with your scent, skin, hair, face, lips, arms, ❛boobies❜, and everything. he'd rather cut his head off than avoid you for a solid 3 days.
⋆˚✿˖° — CHILDISH! is wade a grown man that kills people or a child that wants your attention 24/7? Well, he's a child that kills and wants your attention.
— him being your husband feels like your with a child that won't grow up, he loves making a huge mess, doing anything to impress you, even fighting Logan for fun to show off who's stronger.
— wherever you both go, he'd always wander off somewhere; bothering someone or touching things that aren't supposed to be touched. and you're always panicking looking for wade, usually takes a few hours until he magically finds you, or you find him.
— loves likes seeing you angry, he claims that it's ❛super hot❜ and ❛cute, looks like a cat❜, so he'd bother you every unexpected time, whenever you'd read a book he likes to steal it and read it out loud, whenever you're on the verge of slumber; he'd either yell or picture your sleepy state.
— you're like a mother always scolding wade, and thankfully he obeys you, like a guilty child. yet his manners still come back like his life, you will never get tired of him though, and he knows it.
⋆˚✿˖° — OVERPROTECTIVE! your friends call it lovesick, but him and his 'audience' call it protecting! yeah, maybe he did kill your co worker because he called you crybaby, but thats besides the point.
— special forces, mutant, anti-hero, killer; yadayada, he's everything not a simple man could protect, call him delusional but unexpected things happen, you could get assassinated while eating breakfast, or worse. It's not being too weird, it's being considerate.
— definitely forced Logan to look after you once, not that he minds; Logan admires you. and that turned out to you finding out and scolding wade, being a big baby he is— he definitely didn't talk to you.
— ❛whos that in my bosses office??❜ suprise! it's wade holding a gun to your superiors head while waving at you, well because your boss threatened to fire you.
— in realities and seriousness, he doesn't wanna loose you. loosing someone pains him so much, yet being annoying is the only way he can cope. he lost so much people and he can't afford to loose you too. and him being wanted and a so called 'villain' in every story, he knows one day theyll figure you out.
⋆˚✿˖° — LOYAL! before the day you guys talked, he vowed that if he finds himself attach to another woman romantically, he'd hang himself. he loves you and even if you didn't, no one could ever replace you.
— despite lotta girls getting attracted to him, his eyes will be locked at you. his ears and eyes will forever be yours to catch.
— won't hesitate to slam a girls face into a metal table if they'd ever flirt with you, even with him showing you off. What's only stopping him is you not wanting him to harm anyone, and he's definitely obedient when it comes to you.
— define bare minimum, cause he definitely isn't just the minimum. his profiles in every social contains either your face, or you and him. not only profile, also his header and posts, tagging you whenever he interacts with his 'fans' putting "with — y/n wilson" "my wife — y/n Wilson" "fbm —y/n wilson" and anything that contains you.
— would you really doubt your crazy husband and his whatever audience? Looks can deceive and he's the frame for it, honesty and loyalty is his integrity, he vowed to you and shown his loyalty, and he would never break it.
⋆˚✿˖° ❛iris — tggd❜ , ❛she will be loved — M5❜.
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sugurusombereyes · 4 months
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sleepy mornings with suguru
“c’mon we have to get up.”
sunlight peeked through your half closed curtains, the liquid gold painting your exposed skin in the warmth geto gave you whenever you were in his presence. you attempted to cover your eyes from it since you already were going blind from your horrible eyesight that suguru would always tease you about.
(he would then later tell you in bed how it was a joke and he wasn’t making fun of you. you would then smile and tell him that you knew, his small doubts sending a flutter to your heart that was practically beating outside your chest)
shoko and gojo would constantly talk about how you and geto were complete opposites all the time. how he was the sunlight that everyone would be trying to get in pictures and how you were the night sky that he would disappear into.
(it was supposed to be somewhat of an insult to geto as he would always be teased about how he was so much softer around you. but he took it as a compliment as he truly felt like he could be himself around you)
“wake up.”
you groan for the fifth time in the past minute, you both had slept in for the past three days as you the two of you didn’t have work. but it got to a point where you most literally wouldn’t leave the bed, as much as you weren’t a morning person you had to take some control over your zombie body.
and zombie boyfriend.
“m’tired angel go back to sleep.” he groaned, turning over to your side and attempting to rest his head on your chest as you pushed him off. you rolled your eyes and tried to rub the tiredness out of them, “we all sing.” you referenced to that one video of victoria justice that would make geto cringe as you would cry out laughter which would make tears fall out of his eyes at your reaction to his facial expression. “close your eyes.” geto slapped his hands over your eyelids and attempted to close them as you giggled.
“i’m not sleepy sugu, we need to-.”
his big arms immediately wrapped you up in a giant bear hug, trapping you towards his body while your face met his chest and his chin meeting the top of your head. “getooo.” you groaned as he let out a laugh, his husky voice dripping like honey into your veins and slowing down your blood rushing as well as the moment. “i rarely get these with you so let’s just relax a bit, yeah?” he murmured into your hair, pressing a soft kiss onto your forehead.
(the same feeling heat that would make him blush rising up to your cheeks)
“you always have me.” you say quietly, relaxing your body into his. intertwining your legs and practically sewing together your hearts even though they were at very different placements geto still felt like his heart was stitched with the colour of your eyes.
“mm i know baby, just wanna love on you right now.” suguru rubs your back soothingly, slowly and gently as you sigh in content; your eyes drooping down as he snaked a hand underneath your t shirt and drew shapes that you were too tired to guess on the curves of your hips. “love you.” you sleepily mutter, your breathing slowing down as you couldn’t fight off the drowsiness. “don’t say you love me more or i’ll haunt you in your dreams.” suguru nods while fighting off a laugh. you yawn as his heartbeat fades out as you fall into a deep slumber.
“i love you most angel.”
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rainydayathogwarts · 4 months
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1 boyfriend, 3 perverts - Remus Lupin (poly!marauders)
Summary: Your bf loves giving you head... especially when he's high, and doesn't mind having friends around. 2.5k wc - read pt. 2 here Wrote this instead of studying for my exams that start tmr...
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The wooden floor was cold under your feet, blanketed by the chilly air that filled the dorms at this time of the year. You tip toed over to where you left your slippers by the mirror, clenching your jaw as you opened the door to your dorm, careful not to wake your peacefully slumbering roommates. Once outside, you let out a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding, making your way down the stairs leading to the common room.
Luckily, most of the Gryffindors were already in their dorms, tired after a long few days of exams, so no one could see you, nearly half naked, warily creeping up the boys' dormitory staircase. The hallway is dark, but you can hear the muffled noises behind doors of dorm-mates joking around, or arguing. You stop in front of the right door, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before taking it out again, shaking your head to make your hair fall back into its natural state. Peeking down at your outfit, you nod in reassurance. Wearing small sleep shorts that barely covered your ass and a low cut tank top that didn't make an effort in hiding your perky nipples, you were sure that Remus would pounce on you the second he saw you.
Knocking on the door twice, you look around the hallway to make sure no one catches you in the wrong place. The dorm is eerily quiet when Peter opens the door to the dorm, and he looks visibly relieved when he sees it's you, his shoulders dropping in ease. "It's only y/n, lads." He states, stepping to the side to let you in, and a ruckus of noise fills the room once more as you walk inside, the other three boys clearly just as relieved as he was. They're all sat at the big window nook, window open behind them, cigarette wrappers littering the seats around them, clearly in the middle of a smoke sess. "Sweetheart!" Exclaims Remus from where he is sat, as you approach him, wrapping both arms over his shoulders in a loose hug.
Remus passes the cigarette he holds over to Sirius, letting both arms wrap around you, landing on the back of your bare thighs, just under your ass. He tugs you slightly closer to him, tilting his head up for you to bend down, pressing your lips down to his in a kiss. Remus kisses you hungrily, his hands trailing upwards to press your torso as close to him as he can, opening his mouth slightly so his tongue meets yours as you kiss, making you gasp in shock. You put a hand on his chest, pushing him away from you, eyes wide in surprise at his desperation. His lips tasted of weed and lemon drops, an explanation to his excitement.
"Remmy." You say lovingly, dropping your head down to press kisses onto his naked neck. Remus pushes your hips back slightly, and he spins you around in his arms, shoving you down so you're sat on his laps, and you finally acknowledge the two other boys, engrossed in conversation as though they hadn't even noticed your affectionate exchange. "Hey boys." You greet, accepting the cigarette Sirius hands you when they turn their attention to you. Taking a drag of the cigarette, you move your head to the side, allowing Remus to push your hair back, littering sloppy kisses onto your soft skin, making a trail of saliva down to your tank top's neckline, which barely covers the top of your tits, as Sirius begins to catch you up on their story.
One of Remus' hands comes up to cup one of your breasts, toying with it in his hand, and you briefly wonder just how long they've been smoking for. You jerk away from your boyfriend when his teeth graze the side of your neck teasingly. His grip around your waist tightens, and he pushes you down on his laps back into place, pressing your cunt down on his growing erection. Remus only separates himself from your neck to take a drag of the cigarette hanging between your index and middle finger before he gets back to business, ignoring the boys who begin teasing him.
Eventually, when Sirius drowsily says "Rem here can't go 10 minutes without bringing up how he needs to have you close to him, so I'm not surprised that he's all over you." Remus, still unbothered and worshiping your body, retorts with "Well I'm allowed to miss my girlfriend. At least I'm not the bloke who jerks off to photos of his best mate's girl." The room goes completely silent, with the exception of squelching noises Remus' wet kisses make on your skin. Your jaw goes slack, and you observe the looks on your boyfriend's three best friends' faces, noticing their gaping mouths and rosy cheeks. You almost don't believe your boyfriend, but the looks on his mates' faces say otherwise.
Your hand trails up to grip your boyfriend's short hair, trying to gently tug him away from you for a moment, as you rotate on his laps to face him as best you can. He obliges, looking up at your awaiting gaze with red eyes, a clear sign of how high he is. "Remus, what?" A sleeve covered hand comes up to wipe the saliva off his swollen pink lips. "You didn't know? These three perverts have had a massive crush on you since we got together. Always look extra close when we kiss, or when I touch your body the way no guy should in front of his best mates. To be fair, I only do it because I noticed the photo of you on your knees for me disappeared. Was my favourite photo of you too." His hand comes up to stroke your cheek as he says that last sentence, bringing your face closer to his to kiss you again.
You moan into the kiss, hands coming up to grip his jumper, completely unaware of the growing tents in the other boys' trousers, or the guilty looks on their faces, unaware that they had been caught by the big bad wolf. A string of saliva connects your lips when you pull away from the kiss, and Remus adds "But they're my best mates, I don't mind sharing with them a little." And with that, Remus' hands snake under your thighs, lifting you up gently, and placing you on the spot next to him on the big window nook. "Lay back down for me." You obey his words, still very much confused, head conveniently landing on Peter's laps, acting as a pillow for you. Remus climbs over you to continue placing kisses from where he left off, hands gripping the bottom of your shirt to effortlessly pull it over your head, your bare tits exposed to the group of boys.
You arch your back, the cool summer air sticking to the coats of saliva on your torso, and you take the time to look at the two boys observing you. Both Sirius and James have a hand over the tent in their trousers, palming their growing erections at the sight of you being pleasured by their best mate. At the tap on your hips, your gaze trails back down to your boyfriend, whose fingers grip your revealing sleeping shorts. You lift your hips up, eyes trailing back up to the boy looking down at you, and you smile up at him.
Remus, completely undisturbed by the attention you're paying his friends, pulls your panties off, throwing them in James' general direction as he spreads your knees open, lowering himself onto your cunt. He inhales deeply, his enhanced senses nearly causing his eyes to roll back in pleasure, before he finally buries himself into your cunt, disrupting the moment you shared with Peter, a loud moan cutting off whatever he was telling you. A hand immediately comes to grip Remus' chestnut hair, and your legs fall open even more, letting him suck at your clit and nip the areas around your thighs, surely leaving hickeys on your skin.
Remus's nose nudges at your clit, his tongue poking in and out of your hole, before he switches his attention, sucking aggressively on your sensitive nub, and dragging a finger up your slit, teasing your entrance with it. You gasp in pleasure, shutting your eyes close and bucking your hips up into your boyfriend's face. However, you don't have time to enjoy the feeling before it's taken away from you. "No!" You yell, shooting upwards and barely missing Peter's face when Remus completely removes contact with your pussy, only a hand on your thigh acting as any form of contact between your bodies. "Pete," Remus starts, causing the blonde boy's head to snap towards your boyfriend, an expression of absolute fear on his face.
"Don't let her close her eyes." He finishes, before plunging right back into your pussy, making your thighs squeeze around his head in pleasure. Peter puts his hands on your shoulders, helping you lay back down again, and you pant, looking off to the side to distract yourself from closing your eyes in pleasure. James has your panties wrapped around his hand, palming his dick over his sweatpants, and Sirius sits next to him, joggers unashamedly pulled down just enough for his dick to spring out, jerking himself off in long strokes. You gasp, back arching when Remus plunges two fingers inside your cunt, thrusting them into you quickly while his mouth works on stimulating your clit.
"Oh Rem!" You moan, digging your head back into Peter's laps, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. "Y/n... Y/n?" Peter mutters, unsure of what to do. "Y/n open your eyes." He tries again, to no avail. Remus lifts his head up, fingers still thrusting into you, and reaches up with his free hand to pinch your nipple, twisting it harshly. "Fuck!" You yelp, eyes snapping back open to make eye contact with your boyfriend. "When Pete tells you to open your eyes, you listen!" He instructs, slowing his hand's movements, waiting for a response. "Okay, fuck! Please Remus!" You beg, grinding your hips on his hand desperately, tears building up in your eyes. "Now what do you say you Pete?" He asks, his hand speeding up again. "'M sorry Pete." You sniffle, looking up at him. "Good girl." Says Remus, grinning when he feels your pussy clench at the praise.
"It's okay, y/n" Replies Pete, eyes going wide when you chase for his hand, pulling it on your body, and moving his fingers to grip your tit. "Shit!" He curses, looking at your possessive boyfriend. "Remus, is this- is this okay?" He asks fearfully, sighing when your boyfriend glances up, nodding. "Whatever my girl wants to do, she can do." Remus mutters against your pussy, focusing on your pleasure once more. A groan pulls your attention away from Pete, who begins massaging your tit, pinching your nipple slightly, and your cunt clenches in pleasure again. Your gaze lands on James, who is roughly palming himself, too shy to properly take care of himself like Sirius next to him. "Oh God" You moan, eyes fixated on his frustrated face, eyebrows furrowed and tears forming in his eyes. "Jamie." His head immediately snaps to you. "Come closer." And the boy obeys, dragging a chair right next to you.
You wipe a stray tear falling down his cheek, and reach out to the top of his sweatpants, pathetically trying to pull them down, hips bucking up at the sudden overstimulation on your clit. James helps you, pulling them down just enough for his cock to be exposed to you, angrily slapping his bare torso. The tip of his cock is red and leaking pre-cum, and you immediately start rubbing it, moaning the second James cries out in pleasure, thighs squeezing around your boyfriend's head, working hard to make you cum. You spread James' pre-cum down his dick and to the base of his cock, squeezing him near his balls before starting to stroke his length. His hips buck up into your hand, and you're suddenly reminded of the hand massaging your tit, looking up at Peter, who is completely engrossed in your body. Your eyebrows furrow and you feel the knot in your belly tightening, but something is missing.
You suddenly feel frustrated at the neglect of your second tit, and look for Sirius's eyes in the room, already locked on you. You look back down at your tits, hoping Sirius gets the message, and it seems he does, scurrying over to you, and kneeling on the floor next to the window nook, hand still glued to his cock. Boldly, his free hand reaches up to your tit, and he leans forward to wrap his lips around your perk nipple. You cry out as he begins sucking on it, your fist around James' cock tightening unawarely, causing him to gasp. Remus adds a third finger to your cunt, still sucking on your clit and you're done for, crying out his name loudly as you cum around his fingers and mouth, orgasm nearly causing you to black out. You're aware of the other two boys crying out too, closely followed by Remus, whose vibrations go up your pussy, making you gasp, letting go of James' cock to grip Remus' hair tightly, pulling his face closer to your cunt.
Remus' fingers slow down on your cunt, and he eventually pulls them out, tongue lapping at your pussy to clean you up, while you beg him to stop. "Fuck, baby-Rem can't!" James and Sirius shoot each other incredulous looks, panting to catch their breaths: they weren't expecting the night to come to this. When Remus finally pulls away from you, he leans over you, arms wrapping around your back to help you sit up, and you ogle at him, and the wet patch in his trousers, giggling slightly. "So we all finished except poor Peter?" You guess, looking back at the boy who sheepishly nods, cheeks tinted red. "Well-" You begin to suggest, only to be interrupted by your boyfriend. "No, I'm absolutely not done with you yet. You can take care of Peter when we're done, if he doesn't get to it first." He states, arms wrapping around your waist and effortlessly picking you.
You can hear Sirius cackle, and Peter groan whilst Remus walks the short steps to his four poster bed, dropping you on his mattress before pulling the curtains closed, and throwing his jumper off, leaving his torso in all its naked glory. "Muffliato or no?" He asks you, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your lips. Just as you begin to say the answer, you hear three yells of "No!" coming from outside the curtains.
"Pervs!" Your boyfriend yells out, though he obeys with a grin, shimmying out of his trousers.
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princessbrunette · 5 months
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bunny reader having hiccups in her sleep and literally startling rafe awake bc he’s such a light sleeper. - 🍄
see i personally have the headcanon that rafe is a pretty heavy sleeper— because he’s always had the luxury of being safe and access to a big comfortable bed. however, he’s very protective of bunny — so if he’s not in a deep deep sleep, he’ll wake up rather easily from various sounds.
。゚•┈🎀┈• 。゚
he wasn’t even sure what it was at first, a light and repetitive sound slowly stirring him from his slumber.
…hic…hic…humph…hic
he speaks before he’s fully conscious, shuffling a little closer from where he’d rolled away in his sleep. “kid… bun, wake up.” he rasps, voice low and gravelly from exhaustion. you whine in refusal, your brain fighting the request for consciousness — so rafe sighs and scoops you up a little, one thick arm beneath your back. “c’mon. hey.” he tries again and this time you groan, waking up and sucking in a long breath, interrupted by another hiccup.
he leans across you, reaching over to the bedside table and you assume he’s bringing you in for a cuddle, so you wrap your arms around his neck. “ra—hic!—fey” you mutter tiredly and he unwraps himself, bringing a glass of water placed on the side to your lips, sitting you up more.
“yeah, c’mon, drink this.” he directs, voice barely above a whisper. your eyes flutter open for only a moment, manicured fingers gently clinking against the glass as you feel the cool cup against your hand. you sip at the water, letting it soothe your throat. “how’d you even get hiccups in your sleep, huh?” he comments quietly, watching you drink through puffy, tired eyes.
you tap at his wrist weakly when you’ve had enough and he pulls it away, placing the glass back on the side. “just sit up for a moment, alright… let the hiccups go. was keepin’ me awake.” he shuffles back into a laying position, leaving you sat up by yourself. by mistake, he almost instantly falls back asleep, waking up around twenty minutes later to find you still sat up, asleep with your head hanging down and a soft snore leaving you.
if he wasn’t so tired, he might’ve chuckled— wrapping an arm around you and pulling you gently to lay against him. “sorry, baby.” he drawls in amusement, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head once he’s got you settled at his side once more.
。゚•┈🎀┈• 。゚
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rhysazriel · 2 months
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When the Sun Rose [Azriel]
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SUMMARY: After a drunken night of gentle kisses and truths spilled, when morning arrives, Azriel has no recollection of his earlier admittances. (1.4k)
WARNINGS: it’s pretty angsty, but nothing major!!
A/N: this is a rewrite of an old piece. It’s unlikely I’ll write a second part but I might be open to the possibility in the future. Sometimes I just love an angsty ending hehe
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You’d seen him drunk plenty of times before. Been the one to race shots down your throat with him and later help him sober up before morning. You’d seen him in a lot of states before, you supposed that was just what came with being his best friend.
Best friend.
The thought caused a silent sad laugh to rumble in your stomach. You realised the sad truth that you were in love with him almost a year ago. Realised that the butterflies in your stomach and blush on your cheeks were more than just shyness when you gained his full attention.
But in the years you’d known of your feelings, you’d watched him have fling after fling, fuck after fuck, and come back to you in the mornings to gush about what position he had them in and how many times he made them cum with his fingers and mouth.
Tonight was a little different, though. Azriel had his hands all over you, his lips pressed against every spot of your neck and his hands gripping every inch of your waist. It had never been you beneath him in his bed, but tonight it was and you couldn’t believe it was finally happening.
He palmed at your chest beneath your shirt and tweaked your nipples deliciously. Your head rolled back into the pillow, fingers tangled in his dark hair and you tugged generously at the locks.
Azriel grunted into your neck, nosing up your jaw and smearing his lips against yours. “I‘m in love with you... love you, so fucking much,” he admitted breathlessly.
You could feel your heart leap in your heaving chest. Could feel your veins burst starlight into your bloodstream. You pulled his face back with both palms cupping his cheeks and scanned his eyes.
His skittish shadows wrapped around you both, gentle whispers that you couldn’t decipher but they only made him grin wider. Azriel nudged your nose with his, that floating feeling returning to your mind in full force. There was no way this was happening.
“You are? Please tell me you’re being serious… I’ve been in love with you for years,” you confessed back, ignoring the way the admission lifted a huge weight off your chest and Azriel was kissing you again, hard and tender.
And as quickly as it started, it ended. You fell asleep in each other's arms—you wearing your underwear and Az’s shirt and him in just his boxers. It was when the sun rose and he stirred from his slumber that his foggy mind tried to put the puzzle pieces together.
It wasn’t his room and there was the weight of a small female on his side. Azriel thought he’d just had another one night stand that clearly wasn’t worth remembering. But he noticed the hair colour and style and when he craned his neck, he realised who was half naked in his arms.
Azriel leapt from the bed in shock, eyes wide and his sudden movement startled you awake. His shadows skittered around him, alert and confused by their master's actions. It was when you stretched beneath the covers that he realised your outfit—or lack thereof and he thought the worst.
“Oh, shit,” he cursed blindly, hands dragging down his tired face and he couldn’t deal with a headache this big. You blinked away the slew and stared at him with furrowed brows, stuttering out a laugh. “Morning to you, too,” you rasped.
Azriel’s eyes were still blown wide and he didn’t understand how you were being so nonchalant. You’d never cuddled half naked before, never even shared a bed. Yes, you’d been best friends and extremely close, but a situation had never arisen where you’d had to share a damn bed.
“What are you... oh Gods, please tell me we didn’t... you know...” he gestured between you both and some sort of realisation began to well in your eyes. He didn’t remember.
You shook your head with a nervous laugh. “No, I mean we kissed a bit but that’s it... we just slept cuddling,” you explained, a faint smile on your face and Azriel took a deep breath.
You supposed it was him coming to terms with the fact that you finally kissed and you knew how he felt. At least, that was what you thought.
There was still panic on his face and he squeezed his eyes shut, taking another deep breath. “Did I like... say anything to you that I normally wouldn’t have said? Like I normally wouldn’t have kissed you,” he stared at your worry stricken face as a blush rose to your cheeks.
You stifled a laugh. “I mean, you did tell me that you’re in love with me,” you reminded him, a teasing smile on your lips and you expected him to grow bashful and throw himself on the bed, begging that he didn’t mean to admit it and that it was okay if you didn’t feel the same way.
You thought he just forgot how you both expressed your requited love.
But Azriel didn’t grow bashful and nervous. Instead, his marred hands were in his raven hair and he was groaning at himself. “I’m sorry. I say stupid shit when I’m drunk like that and I’m sorry, that must’ve been awkward for you.” He apologised, rubbing at his face.
His shadows cooed around his neck and face, seemingly attempting to console their master and coax him into a calmer state. You wondered if they were whispering reassurance that you loved him too.
You crawled across the bed, gentle smile on your lips and you were about to tell him to stop worrying, that you were in love with him too, but you stopped in the middle of the bed when he looked at you with a careful look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.
“Why would it be awkward?” You asked with a slight tilt of your head. You thought Az was going to tell you he was certain you didn’t love him back, but he frowned you instead, like his reasoning was the most obvious thing and let out a soft laugh.
“‘Cause I’m obviously not in love with you. Can’t imagine how awkward I’d feel if you told me you were in love with me but I didn’t know you were just shit-talking while you’re drunk,” he laughed comically but from his words, you felt your heart sink to your stomach and you thought you might be sick.
Your chest was tight and your head was spinning. You could physically feel the heartache in your fingertips and your entire body was buzzing in a numbing rage. You wanted to cry, could feel your throat swelling but you didn’t trust yourself to say anything without breaking down.
You cleared your throat and let off an awkward laugh. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be happening. You thought he meant it, thought your life was coming together, thought you’d finally feel loved. But it was all a lie.
He didn’t love you.
“Oh, yeah,” you mumbled, a frown on your lips. Azriel didn’t see it, though. He was too busy throwing another shirt on and shoving his legs in a pair of trousers from the night before.
Everything felt numb when he looked back at you with the normal cheeky glimmer in his eyes. His shadows had split in half. Some with him, swirling in agitation, and the others with you as they coiled around your cool skin in some offering of comfort.
And as you stared at his lips, you could feel them back on yours again, how they caressed your pout and offered you a sense of home and warmth.
You let yourself bask in the memory for as long as you could, because you knew you’d never get it again. You let the reality of the situation sink in. Let it sink in that not only did he not love you last night when he said he did, that not only did he not love you now, but that he never would.
And you let yourself hurt. Hurt because the love of your life would never feel the same, and you’d learned that in the most impossibly painful way. Because for a fleeting moment, you thought you knew what it felt like to be loved by him. But then the sun rose and so did the truth.
Now you prayed to the Mother that he didn’t one day remember what really happened that night. Prayed that his shadows would hold some loyalty to you and keep it your secret.
But when Azriel left your bedroom, they slithered out the door too.
Like nothing had happened.
Like they didn’t take your heart with them.
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Thank you for reading!! If you enjoyed it, please give it a like and reblog!! <3
Azriel Tags
@serxndipity-ipity-blog / @erencvlt / @azswife / @lili-of-the-wildfire / @dreaming-unafraid / @dr4g0ngirl / @coconut-dreamz / @lilah-asteria / @a-frog-with-a-laptop / @whevegvekage / @weasleyreidstyles / @hayrunnwr / @fhgsvnh / @smitty-werbenjagermenjenson / @backstagepaige / @ntimacy / @whatsupb18 / @moonfawnx / @mybigboimork / @cherryjain17 / @isabella-bby / @i-love-your-shadows-baby / @louvmars / @katiebethx / @blitz-fall / @thot4ellie / @thezoddfather / @tequilya / @azrielsshadows42 / @pruvii / @wolfbc97 / @hpforever / @amanduh20
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servicpop · 5 months
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✶ ﹑ㅤlate nights ﹏
NOW STARRING : hockey bf Suguru x male!reader
「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤyour boyfriend can't help himself before the big game, he has some sort of jinx!
✙ warnings — thigh fucking, size difference, use of "prince," hand-job
notes ,, tbh I know nothing about hockey i just wanted to make an au with suguru that isn't just the normal jjk plot... / also this was inspired by Jinx manhwa... the sex jinx thing you know
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1:00 AM
The room is cloaked in the silence of the night; the soft light of the moon filtered through the half-closed blinds casting gentle shadows across the walls. The air is still, filled with the faint scent of lavender from the nearby candle. On the bed, you and Suguru lay intertwined, your bodies molded together with you as the little spoon, and Suguru as the big spoon. The soft fabric of the sheets cocoones the both of you in warmth as you find solace in each other's embrace. At this point you're already fast asleep, lulled into a deep slumber as you lay in Suguru's arms. However, no matter how hard he tried to push the growing heat beside, he was kept awake from the raging boner he had.
With one arm wrapped around your waist while the other propped his head up, he watched your chest rise and fall steadily. You looked so peaceful. The pale hand placed on your waist snaked down to your thigh, caressing it slowly. "Hey, wake up, prince" He shook you awake gently, not wanting to jolt you awake but his saccharine, honeyed voice was enough to pull you back to sleep. A light hearted chuckle left his chest when he saw your sleepy eyes blink to conciousness, and the way your nose scrunched like a kitty was adorable to him.
Suguru's palm kept massaging your thigh as his breath tickled your neck, "I can't sleep," He whispered, groaning softly when his hips involuntarily grinded against your ass. It was an accident he swears, it wasn't his fault he couldn't sleep because of his erection... it didn't help how you were still half asleep, trying to process what was happening. You realised immediately when you felt something poke your back. "I'm tired..." you mumbled, your words barely reaching Suguru's ears. It was 1am, of course you'd be tired. "How about your thighs? I'll do all the work," you knew Suguru had a thing for your thighs, he would always squeeze and grope them any chance he got. He mentioned something about how it was the warmest and softest part of your body but you never really understood his rambles.
"You have a game tomorrow, Suguru," You scold but don't push away his grabby hands. You know about his "jinx" but to be honest it was most likely just an excuse to fuck you before games; it was probably a way for him to get rid of his stress. "I won't win if I don't feel you," He groaned, his fingers dipping in-between your thighs, trying to hoist them apart. At this point you let him, too overcome by your sleepiness to care.
The noise of fabric shuffling filled the otherwise quiet room as Suguru slots himself in between your thighs, pushing your plush flesh together to secure him. You could tell he enjoyed it as you heard a shaky and breathy moan from behind you. To be honest, you got off on it too, seeing the way his tip would peak out from in-between your thighs. You always knew he was big but it never failed to suprise you each time.
Slowly, Suguru moved his hips in a thrusting motion, drawing them away before pushing back in with a small noise of his skin making contact with yours. His breaths stuttered with each movement and his hands wandered up your shirt, caressing and feeling your stomach underneath his fingertips. Suguru wasn't extremely vocal but with the small grunts and huff he lets out when he's enjoying himself... drives your body insane and you can't help but grow aroused as well.
"You lonely?" Suguru chuckled, his hands moving down to the waistband of your pyjama pants. With a small mumble of 'there we go,' he slips off your pants, tossing them aside carelessly. He continues his thrusting, slipping his dick in-between your thighs rhythmically. With every thrust, you could feel Suguru's cock slip along the underside of yours. It was such a light feeling that it almost tickled. Suguru coos in your ear, whispering sweet nothings that barely register in your sleep-ridden brain. All you can focus on is his warm palm trailing to your cock. His hand clamps around you as he cradles it in his hand for a bit, allowing you to really feel the warmth from his hand. God you were already leaking. "Hah... feels good Sugu'"
"Does it now?" he hums in a sickeningly sweet and innocent tone, but the way his hands pumped your cock was far from innocent. His movements get faster, his hips went from slow and calculated thrusts to slamming his hips against the back of your thighs, chasing his pleasure alongside with your own. Both his hand and his dick sliding in between your thighs made whimpers slip out your lips. Suguru uses his other hand to hold you close to him, pressing his palm flat against your stomach to push you flush against his body.
"Gonna come," he grunts, his voice getting louder and more raspy as he keeps thrusting. The hand wrapped around your cock was still pumping with vigour, like he wanted you to lose yourself with him. Your voice wavers as moans flow out of your throat — Suguru's hands are way too skilled for their own good. You feel a knot forming in your stomach and your cock twitches in Suguru's hand. Your tip is so red its practically begging for him to have mercy but he doesn't stop. He wants to see your pleasure as much as he wants to feel you. Suguru's voice breaks slightly as he groans, white spurting out of his dick and coating your thighs as well as the sheets. He keeps pumping his hand until he feels you pulse and twitch before you come, "Mm... good boy, yeah just like that."
With a few more slow thrusts, Suguru finally stopped. He wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug-like way, letting his face fall into the crook of your neck. He littered kisses all over your cheek and your jawline before speaking, "I'll do well tomorrow, thanks prince," Suguru chuckled softly, letting his eyes close while he settled down with you to catch up on the sleep he missed beforehand.
♡ little gift — X nsfw video that inspired this !!
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a/n : this was meant to be an oc fic but decided I wanted it to be suguru...
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tiyoin · 5 months
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morality
‘malleus x reader’
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malleus, who every time you fall asleep surrounds you in bristling thorns.
malleus, who does everything in his power to extend your life. he believes that stopping time- even a few hours would give him that much more time with you in the future.
malleus, who cares so deeply for your health and well being, but can’t help but make you sleep more often than you usually would in hopes of extending your life
malleus, who sacrifices the present for the future. it doesn’t matter if you’re awake when he’s off completing royal duties.
malleus thinks that’s time wasted that could be saved for the future. he’ll sometimes keep you under his spell for a few days, but it’s okay. you aren’t missing much anyways as you’d always voice how sad, cold, and lonely the palace feels without him.
malleus feels no guilt in commanding you to sleep. he thinks it’s a fair trade for the dreams he gives you. where you always receive a happy ending. with him, of course. with the hopes that those dreams will have you longing for the days to come.
malleus’ favorite dream to bestow up you was the one where you and him are in a cabin in the woods. especially the scene of two purple and onyx eggs cuddled up nicely in your arms. your back laid against his chest, your body almost sinking into his, almost like you were trying to steal the little warmth his reptilian blood possessed. or maybe, it was him whose arms were wrapped tightly around your body that was trying to keep you as close as possible.
malleus would think the roaring fire that sat not even a meter away would be enough to keep you both warm. not even the blankets in your shared bedroom seemed to quell the ice in your veins…
malleus would either read to the three of you, a new book each time- or, the two of you would discus baby names. brainstorming ideas to and new endings so you could continue the legacy of his ancestral names. he could never get tired of the way you referred to your little miracles; m&m. it was a candy from your home, you’d always explain, never failing to make his lips curl up in amusement.
malleus, who was warned that this marriage, this love was doomed from the very beginning. but he didn’t care, hadn’t fully considered your morality as there had to be a way to extend it… yet even lilia wasn’t able to escape death’s cynical clutches.
malleus who must always listen to your dreams, your hopes and excitement of the future, deep down knowing that it’ll never happen. that they’re never occur and never take fruition. and it frustrates him.
malleus who would send you into a deep slumber when he wrecked the castle, screams and wails of anguish echoing throughout the soulless walls of briar palace. was this how his grandmother felt? completely and utterly alone? her lover and daughter long gone as she was condemned to more pointless years of empty solitude. with not enough love for even him? her grandson.
is that how he’ll turn out? cold and alone?
insane?
not even sebek would last long. silver was on the same clock as you, both condemned to sleeping to stop the ticking hands of time that seemed to tick tick away.
malleus wanted a family, you knew that. biology be damned he’ll have his happily ever after with you. with every dream he can see the want growing inside you too.
malleus wants his, your children to at least know who the woman in the portrait is. he wants you to tuck them into bed, watch their first steps, and console them when the weight of your morality gets placed on their young shoulders.
malleus wants to scold them for breaking objects while you give him those big pleading eyes to ‘give them a break! they’re just learning how to walk in their human forms,’ malleus wants to catch the three of you baking cookies in the royal palace, he wants his children to sneak into meetings just to see him- only for you to be seen (and heard) trying to get them out without entering yourself. he would sometimes chuckle, imagining them hanging off of sebek like a ‘jungle gym’ (whatever that was) as the knight would do everything in his power to not move.
he wants you there to witness their changing from dragon to human, he wants to go through dragon teething with you as he knows it was a struggle for lilia alone. he wants them to draw on the old suffocating walls- only to be interrupted by your horrified gasp. scolding them for doing such a thing to the royal palace, only for him to be revealed as an accomplice. doodling away with them while critiquing and adding onto their drawings.
malleus wants to stress sebek out as he searches high and low for the king, who was miles away in a ruine with his family playing hooky. of course, not without a secret picnic basket and blankets.
he wants you on his back while he’s in his dragon form, his children struggling to fly at his speed as you take a family glide through the starry night just because.
he wants them to tell him that he was doing the right thing by timing out your death clock, saving a few minutes for tomorrow.
he wants you there when him and his future children go on diplomatic missions to other nations. he wants to enjoy the cuisine with you, the sights and views with you like that one college trip to the scalding sand. he already knows the words he’d tell that he failed to tell during that trip. that nothing will ever compare to the twinkle in your eyes or the beauty of your smile. he wants to hear his children’s groans and remarks of disgust as he spews poetry at you. kisses you. like it’s the last time he ever will…
there’s all these wants that he’ll never have.
he… hopes, his children will get their magic early- especially their unique magic in hopes that one of them can save you from your fate.
he wants a family portrait, with all four- or more, of you- this fully depending on how your body will deal with the trauma of the birth of your first born.
malleus curses the fates everyday for making his soulmate- his mate, mortal. receiving a human soul instead of a fae’s… it’s a cruel joke, he chalks up on night, when his temper was especially bad. when his thoughts were more pessimistic than usual. all because he spotted your first grey hair as you arrive in your early thirties.
malleus, who stands placid in the library, staring at the locked glass doors of the forbidden section. his fist clenches, then unclenches repeatedly- a war going on in his mind as he remembers his grandmother’s warnings of entering that room… of reading and using the contents of those books.
malleus scoffs, arrogance radiating from the young prince-king. his grandmother’s image flashes through his vision when his touches the door, sternly warning him of the cardinal sin that would be committed if he ever used the dark magic their ancestors created, used, and evidently locked away. she warned him, begged him to never feed into the whispers of their DNA, to never entertain the delusions that came with puberty and age. to learn about the world so he knows the natural order of things- the circle of life and death that he too, would one day be apart of…
malleus will have his happily ever after. he’s suffered so much already, doesn’t he deserve it?
the answer is yes. yet fate keeps continuing to deny him his right.
malleus deserves the happiness he never got to experience, family that he was robbed of all those years ago. and if he is to be condemned to tartarus for his misdeeds… then he will drag you down with him, forever together.
so sleep. dream your days away as malleus searches and scans the entire royal archives for spells or potion recipes that can fix this problem.
he promises the days will no longer bleed together, he promises you and silver- even sebek, will be able to stay awake for as long as him. he would give his soul to make sure the three of you stayed.
malleus will be there when you receive the news of your friend’s deaths. dropping like flies one by one as the years continue to pass. you will have each other when you stop reviving funeral invitations. he will be there for you when you look in the mirror, age not matching your appearance as you compare your hands to that of your friend’s corpses. you will truly have only him, and he hopes you will want to stay with him for as long as possible, just as he wishes.
he will take care of everything, so don’t fight it, okay? he will allow you to live different lives throughout each dream. illusion of free will at play since he will always be there, condemning you to the same love, same life, and same routine no matter where he places you.
he loves you… so very much.
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genderlessdude92 · 6 months
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GENTLE, PLEASE
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PAIRING: Alastor x Wife!Reader SUMMARY: Y/N, like the nervous wreck she is, can’t stop spending her free time worrying over something that’s not even a big deal. Of course, one thing lead to another. (Thank you, Charlie, for letting them have the day off). WARNINGS: (SFW) Reader is female, Reader is hellborn, Reader is VERY anxious (alastor as well, but not too much), reader is sensitive obv, angel is angel, usage of y/n, established relationship cussing on both parts, Alastor owns readers soul. (NSFW) alastor’s pain kink shows a little bit, lingerie, reader is TIGHT, reader is also virgin but is registered adult!!!, mention of a safeword, p in v, slight orgasm denial, reader’s tears, soul-chain bondage, alastor knots. Mentions of pregnancy^^ idk if there’s angst in this that counts but both have a good ending so dw (LMK if i missed anything!!!!)
NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.< Property of @l4zyb0n35 and @genderlessdude92
Requests are open, support is highly appreciated!
〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*・゚♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~
Alastor was a man of his word.
Y/N was sitting in her room, tired from her piece of vibrating plastic that brang her ‘pleasure’.
“You look gorgeous in your bliss, darling.”
Whenever Alastor rubbed her, ate her out, it made her feel real pleasure, though.
But, did he?
What was real pleasure?
“I’m too big for you, sweetheart, maybe another time.”
Another time.
Did he want another time?
“You’re almost like Charlie’s mother, Hah! We’d make great parents.”
The look he gave you.
Y/N felt so relieved after hearing Charlie was going up to heaven for a meeting just a moment ago, but now all of these stupid…that’s mean. All these overwhelming thoughts were plaguing her head.
She threw the piece of plastic across the room.
She had to give him something.
when was the last time you talked to him? when was the last time you crossed paths with your husband during work? when was the last time you cooked for him?
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
22:10 PM
She couldn’t sleep.
Was she good enough?
Ugh.
She put on a flimsy oversized shirt she usually wears to bed, some polka-dot pajama shorts, and white, knee-high socks.
She didn’t bother to change her underwear garments from the night before.
Y/N looked around before heading out of her hotel room, in case anybody saw her, to Alastor’s room.
Y/N was so happy when Alastor ‘accidentally’ mapped her room next to his on one of the secluded floors when the hotel was being rebuilt. How happy she was, indeed.
Knock knock knock
Silence. but only for a moment before she heard and felt the soft familiar static come closer to the other side of the door.
“Come in, mon cher.” He greeted as he opened the door, stepping aside. His room looked neat and clean, unlike Y/N’s. mostly because there wasn’t much stuff…and he had a whole bayou, making the room bigger.
She nervously walked over the the edge of his bed and sat down, breathing in the smell of his familiar cologne.
“Whats keeping you up so late? you’re usually a slumbering baby at this time of night!” He chortled, sitting down next to her on the plush bed of his.
Fuck.
He was wearing silk pajama pants and a robe, but the robe was just barely tied tightly, exposing a majority of his chest. His monocle was placed elsewhere and his hair was slightly disheveled.
Crap, you woke him up didn’t you.
“…I don’t know.” You dumbass, wrong answer! she scolded at herself.
Alastor chuckled again, “Just missed me?” he asked.
That reminded Y/N of back then. When it was simple and new between them. Before they went to this hotel, decades ago when the two met. She would always go over to his manor in the middle of the night after roaming the streets and feeling lonely.
Ah, yes. Now i have to work for the princess.
“…Yeah…missed you.” Y/N forced a smile alongside that little white lie.
He sighed, “…Alright, what’s going on?” He placed a place on her tensed shoulder, rubbing it soothingly, gently.
Cornered. Y/N didn’t have a choice, “Do you…Do always mean it when…fuck- when you s-say you-um- want to have a child with me?” She said without breaking her eye contact to the floor.
You didn’t have to say it like that, fucking hell
Alastor’s movements froze. “…a…um…” His smiled turned strained, “-a spawn?”
Y/N teared up. there was no way she was getting out of this one.
She whimpered, “…sorry.” before her hands shot up to her face, Alastor grabbed her wrist-
“I would love to. Y-You know I am a man of my word…” Alastor confessed with a chuckle, “-But…only if you are comfortable with it, mon amour.” Alastor went to her eyes level to try and meet her eyes.
Y/N froze. Her tears stopped.
…Holy fuck.
Y/N looked at him, to search for any disapproving emotion in his eyes.
None.
“…I-I want to.” Y/N confessed back, “…too.”
Alastor’s smile softened, he pulled Y/N with ease into him lap, “I’m glad,” and immediately kissed her.
The kiss was soft, sensual, gentle, even. Alastor’s hands began to roam under her shirt once she opened her mouth for him.
Alastor broke away from the kiss for a moment, a string of saliva connecting to their lips, “Y/N…?” he tugged on her shirt.
Oh god, what do i say?
“…Is there something wrong?” Y/N silently panicked.
Alastor widened his eyes for a moment but then softened his demeanor, “You shirt. Can i take it off?” He kissed her lips once more.
Fucking idiot. A brain dead patient would’ve known what that meant.
“…Yes.” She smiled nervously as he broke the the kiss.
Alastor nodded before bunching the hem of her shirt in his claws, “arms up, dear.”
As Y/N put her arms up, letting him gently take off her shirt, Alastor noticed how she was…wearing lingerie.
The lingerie that she wore the night before.
see what i did there
As Y/N put her arms down, she noticed how Alastor was staring at her under garments…
That she didn’t change from last night.
Y/N squeaked and ripped the bra off her body, tossing it away and into the bayou.
Now you’re bra-less.
Y/N slowly look up at Alastor, afraid he was going to scold her for not caring about her hygiene and stuff like that.
Alastor had always scolded her for skipping certain chores to, ‘take the weight off Alastor and Nifty’s shoulders’ whether it be showers, making the bed…laundry.
Dirty landry.
Alastor sighed, “I love you, Y/N,” He laughed softly, “-my clumsy doe.” He finished the sentence with a lustful growl, his claws tickled down her spine, arching her back.
“…I…I love you, t-“ almost immediately, Y/N was pinned down into the center of the bed, Alastor lips crashing onto hers like a starved man.
Fuck yeah, it was hot.
Alastor began to knead his claws at her breasts, squishing them so.
he grinder himself to her clothed core, making her throb for his touch, some contact. It almost felt like all those other times.
…but…it didn’t feel right.
Alastor, after needing a breath of air, noticed the tiniest hint of this, and grown worried,
“Are you alright, dearest?” He checked in.
She was unsure. Yeah, she was in the mood…but she just felt nervous, and he felt so confident.
“…anything i could do?” Alastor questioned once more, still hovering over her, his antlers slightly sizing down.
Think, Y/N, you were fine before, what was he doing before…
“…can you um…be gentle?” She winced, thinking that she sounded like some kind of needy loser. Oh, lord-
“-Why…o-of course, mon cœur.” he reassured, rubbed his thumbs over her small, plush breasts because kissing her once again.
Nothing could have compared more to how satisfied Alastor felt when she moaned.
It wasn’t a pornographic moan either, it was…natural. needing, almost.
Once Alastor slipped his tongue into her awaiting mouth, he began to unwrap his robe, tossing it to the ground and leaving his chest bare for her.
She gasped, “Oh, Al…” before she could wrap her arms around his neck, she felt him tug at her loose shorts,
“May I, darling?~”
Y/N nodded like a frantic woman, lifting her bottom up so he could take off her shorts, awaiting to find her panties completely soaked.
He pushed her bottom down with ease, “Dear, you seem to be completely moist,” Alastor commenting with the low vibration of static in his voice, making Y/N blush frantically. “Tell me, what turn you on so much? Perhaps…” Alastor swiped a finger through her panties, making her yelp. He then brang it back up to his mouth and licked itc moaning softly, “…was it my switch in demeanor?”
Y/N clenched as the sight. Alastor scooted back and lowered herself to her pussy, licking her slowly through the cloth guarding her. When he got to the location of her pearl, he pushed his tongue down onto it, receiving a moan from the receiver.
But his tongue wasn’t enough at the moment.
She wanted more.
“N-no…please, Alastor…I want you.” Y/N pleaded. she was impatient, she couldn’t just sit there and go through what was the usual.
She needed more.
He growled. “Anything for you, ma lumière.” Like an inpatient man, he tapped the bottom of her butt, signaling her to raise it. She did so, and almost immediately did he swiped her panties off of her, resulting in a gasp from Y/N.
Alastor crawled over so his pelvis was just on top of her. standing straight on his knees.
Alastor unbuttoned his silk pajama pants, his hard cock springing free right out of his boxers.
Nothing could have prepared Y/N from how big it looked.
Estimating, it was probably 7.5 inches minimum, and have mercy on her-
It was seriously…thick.
She looked up at Alastor worried. Alastor noticed this and softened his expression,
“You’ll be okay. I’ll go slow for you.”
Y/N nodded, but it certainly didn’t make her feel any better. She was still clenching her womanhood as well, just slightly at the thought of how bad this might hurt.
Alastor sighed. “The safeword is…stop.” Alastor told her. Hopefully that would make her feel safer.
…she opened for him.
When Alastor looked down to examine her, he saw how each second she opened, her juices would stick to her pussy’s lips in strings.
His dick physically throbbed more.
After hooking her legs up and around her waist, he lowered his body down more so that his cock was in lined with her vagina.
Slowly, he rubbed his length up down down through her folds, collecting as much natural lube as he could for her pleasure.
-But the sounds definitely weren’t helping, making Y/N face glow a darker tint of red than before. So, she just zoned out to the rumble of Al’s static.
What snapped her out of her zoning, although, was the burning of her hole, hissing in discomfort.
“Shhh…” Alastor hushed, “Just let me put the tip in, then i’ll stop.” Alastor, still, waited for confirmation.
Fucking pussy, Y/N thought, can’t even take the tip?!-
“o-okay.” She grasped onto his shoulder for an anchor in the pain. I can get through this.
Alastor still gave her a moment before shoving the full tip in, making her wince in pain, squeezing his shoulder.
Alastor hushed her again, “relax for me, darling…” he lowered his mouth to her left nipple, softly suckling on the nub, and effort to ease the pain. As Y/N released more moans, bringing one of her hands up to rub the lonely breast.
After a moment to let her settle around him, he pulled away from her nipple with a pop, bringing her hand back up to his shoulder.
“Just relax for me…” Alastor suggested before closely pushing some more length into her. “You,” he groaned, “You’re doing so good for me…”
How is she so tight?
Tears began to form in Y/N’s waterline. Alastor looked up at the sight and pondered what he could do. After a few moments, he stopped until he was just halfway into her, he leaned down once more to place his lips on her tears, her forehead, and then her lips, whispering affirmations in the middle of each kiss.
…was this too slow?
Y/N couldn’t believe her thoughts.
She pulled away from his lips to speak, “A-Al…put it in…i’m ready…” she requested with desperation in her tone, “i need all of you…”
Alastor looked up at him to spot a lie in the process, “Are you sure, my love-“
“Alastor, fuck me.”
That made Alastor moan, which then turned into a growl as Alastor subconsciously grew into a slightly bigger form of himself, snapping his hips with force into her.
Y/N cried out, but silenced Alastor before he could say anything, “S-Start moving, Al, please…” She took one of her hands off a shoulder to rub her nub, moaning softly as the newly added pleasure mixed with him slowly bottom out before snapping back into her.
He repeated this motion for a moment before slowly picking up her pace, making her moans short between thrusts.
“A-Alastor, ngh…” She called for him, grasping onto his shoulder once again. She tried to pull him down for a kiss.
“Use your words, m…mon cher.” he breathed and he kept his euphoric pace.
“K-Kiss me…” Y/N pleaded through her moans.
Alastor quickly leaned down to peck her lips before breaking the quick kiss,
“I’m gonna fill you…” He quickened his pace, his form becoming more menacing as his antlers grew, “with my seed.” He finished his sentence by smashing his lips onto hers.
As Y/N’s legs began to slip, he quickly used his tendrils to press them to her chest,
Positioning her into a breeding press.
“Ah…A-Alastor…I’m gonna-ah!” Alastor changed his pace to a brutal, electrifying one.
Y/N didn’t even care if he were to be gentle, she just wanted that sweet relief of relea-
“You don’t cum until i say so, darling.” a green shackle on Y/N’s left ankle appeared as a warning. “Understood? Those are our rules of the bedroom.”
He wasn’t wrong there. Those were the rules. He never wanted to feel under-powered in the bedroom at all, so that included orgasm denial.
And Y/N was completely fine with it.
But how quick and hard he’s hitting that far spot in her walls?
Just made her feel like there was no control.
“Alastor, please…” Y/N let tears she didn’t know we’re building up fell.
Alastor hushed her comfortingly, “Sweetheart-fuck-sweetheart, y-you’re almost there…” Alastor could feel himself knot inside of her,
…He wasn’t even sure that he was knotting until Y/N’s moans turned into groans.
He swiped some tears off her cheeks, “Mon cœr, you’re r-ready to cum?” he shot one of his tendrils down to her pussy, rubbing it at a rapid pace. Alastor leaned down to whisper into her ear, the static in his voice now on mute, “cum for me, then.”
That’s when the coil snapped.
The same time when Alastor spilt him seed deep into her womb.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
23:04 PM
Y/N was exhausted.
“Darling, i need you to sit up for a moment.” Alastor demanded.
Y/N groaned like a toddler.
“…fine.” Alastor put down the glass of water onto the nightstand, taking one knee and placing it sorely onto the bed to get closer to her, his shadow helping to lift her butt up as he wiped extra semen off of her.
after a moment of him disappearing into the bathroom, he came back looking neat and ready for bed.
…with a genuine smile on his face as his eyes met your tired ones.
Alastor went to the other side on the bed, sighing as he felt the soft surface under him.
He scooted closer to Y/N to get her under the blankets, dramatic, he thought as Y/N made a whine of protest again from the movement.
Once everything felt to his liking, he laid down next to her. and pulled her close, nuzzling his cheek into her hair.
“…Hey…Al?”
“mhm?”
“…I love you…”
He softened his smile, chuckling light-heartedly,
“…I love you two, as well.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
BONUS ☆♪
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Hey, sweet cheeks,” Angel called from the other side of the lobby, walking over to Y/N, “Still up for that event thingy at the new bar? Heard that the sharks are blackl-“
Angel stared at the sight before him.
Y/N, laying on the couch with her legs slightly spread and a heating pad on the thighs.
“…Don’t-“
“Is it just me, or do i see you…a supposed to be virgin friend of mine…sore from a…” He examines the current position for a moment, walking around the couch to stand in front of her, “…breeding press position.”
Y/N stares at him like he’s her next target on a murder spree.
And which, he probably was.
“What? I’m and expert with this kind of stuff,” He pulls out his phone and sits next to you, “forget that I work for Valentino? Damn, how good was that sex?”
“Angel, if you want to keep the ability of having sex, be quiet.”
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END NOTES: I felt rlly devious making this fic 😍 But all jokes aside, i rlly need some writing tips since this is literally my first fic ever 😭
-Lynn
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pucksandpower · 7 months
Text
Sleepyhead
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: sometimes race weekends can be so tiring that words escape you, but that has never been a problem for your doting boyfriend
Based on this request
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You walk down the paddock path, utterly exhausted after a long day at the track. Your eyelids feel like lead weights and you can barely put one foot in front of the other. Charles has his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, practically carrying your limp body as you lean into him for support.
“Tired, mon petit chou?” Charles asks softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You just let out a little grunt in response, too drained to even form words.
As you round the corner, Logan Sargeant spots the two of you and rushes over with a big grin. “Hey guys! How’s it going?”
Charles gives him a polite smile. “Hello, mate. We’re doing well, just a bit tired after such a busy day.”
Logan turns to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “Y/N? Are you okay? You look kind of … mad or something.”
You blink slowly at him, your brain taking its time to process his words. Mad? Why would you be mad? You just shake your head minutely, rubbing your cheek against Charles’ shoulder.
“Oh no, she’s not angry,” Charles explains with a little chuckle. “This is just how she gets when she’s really tired. She goes all quiet and doesn’t speak. Her body language is the only way to read her moods then.”
“Yeah, and right now she’s giving off major sleepy kitten vibes,” Oscar’s voice chimes in as he joins the little group with Lando beside him. “Lando gets the exact same way when he’s exhausted. He turns into a limp noodle that I have to carry around.”
Lando huffs indignantly. “Hey! I do not!”
“Yes you do,” Oscar laughs. “Remember that time in Monza last year? You were falling asleep on your feet after the race.”
Lando rolls his eyes but a fond smile tugs at his lips. “Okay fine, maybe I do. But only sometimes!”
You let their playful banter wash over you, your heavy eyelids sliding shut as you nestle further into Charles’ embrace. You feel so safe and comforted in his arms, his solid warmth enveloping you.
“Alright, I think it’s time we got you back to the hotel for some rest,” Charles murmurs, pressing another kiss to your hair. “Say goodnight to the boys.”
You manage a tiny wave at Logan, Oscar, and Lando before allowing Charles to steer you down the paddock towards the exit. His hand runs up and down your back soothingly.
“Goodnight you two! Get some sleep!” Oscar calls after you.
Once you reach the car, Charles helps you into the passenger seat, buckling you in gently before jogging around to the driver’s side. You’re asleep before he even starts the engine, finally giving in to the exhaustion weighing you down.
The sound of a car door opening rouses you from your slumber sometime later. You slowly blink your eyes open, taking in your surroundings. Charles’ hand is tenderly stroking your cheek.
“Mon amour, we’re at the hotel. Let’s get you up to our room, hmm?”
You nod drowsily, allowing him to unbuckle you and help you out of the car. He pulls you into his side, one arm securely around your waist as you walk unsteadily towards the hotel entrance. Grateful doesn’t even begin to cover what you feel for this man by your side.
Once in the elevator, Charles shifts to face you fully, those warm green eyes shining with nothing but pure adoration. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
“You did so well today. I’m so proud of you for working so hard. Let’s get you nice and warm in bed now.”
You give him a tired little smile, nuzzling your face against his chest. He chuckles softly, squeezing you tighter.
Eventually you make it to the hotel room, Charles guiding you straight to the plush king bed. He helps you out of your clothes until you’re down to your underwear, then pulls back the covers for you to slip between the soft sheets. A happy sigh slips from your lips when your head hits the pillow. Charles presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.
“Sleep well, mon cœur. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he whispers, laying down beside you.
You immediately curl into his side, draping an arm over his stomach as you burrow your face into the crook of his neck. His arms wrap around you, making you feel so small yet so incredibly cherished. With Charles holding you snugly against his chest, you drift off into a deep, peaceful slumber.
When consciousness returns, the first thing that registers is the solid warmth of Charles’ body pressed against yours. His leg is hooked over yours, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath your cheek. There’s a pleasant ache to your limbs, the satisfying kind that comes from a good rest after a long day. You shift slightly, causing Charles to stir awake.
“Bonjour, ma belle,” he murmurs, his sexy morning voice making butterflies flutter in your stomach. You tilt your head up to meet his sleepy but adoring gaze, suddenly drowning in those green pools. God, he’s so beautiful.
“Good morning,” you whisper back, rubbing your nose against his.
Charles breaks into a dazzling grin, capturing your lips in a soft, slow kiss that steals your breath away. When he pulls back, he cups your cheek tenderly.
“Did you sleep well? Feeling more rested now?”
“Mmhmm,” you hum, smiling lazily. “Sleeping in your arms is the best.”
He laughs, his eyes crinkling. “I couldn’t agree more. I love holding you close like this.”
Your heart swells three sizes as he gazes at you with such naked affection. This man loves you so fiercely, so completely. You can see it in his every look, his every touch. He treasures you in a way you never thought possible. Feeling brave, you let the words sitting heavily on your tongue finally slip out.
“Je t’aime, Charles … mon amour.”
His smile turns blinding, happier than you’ve ever seen it. “I love you too, with all my heart,” he breathes, pulling you in for another lingering kiss.
You melt into the embrace, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude you feel for this incredible man into the kiss. Nothing has ever felt so right, so perfect than being here in his arms. As Charles strokes your cheek and deepens the kiss, you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’ll always feel safe, cherished, and deeply loved by this extraordinary man.
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onlyhaos · 4 months
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🍲 · Sick!reader x Wonwoo , fluff
Planted in your and Wonwoo’s shared bed, you can’t help but feel exhausted. Lying under the soft sheets that are heating up your body, to an uncomfortable temperature, you want to do nothing more than escape them.
“Stay under them, love, you’re sick. You have to let all the bacteria out.” Your boyfriend spoke as he observed you, stroking your hair so that you could have the slightest bit of comfort.
“Are you hungry? Feel like eating at least something?” Wonwoo asked softly, seeing your eyes slowly fluttering back open.
A small shake of your head signaled him, that you didn’t want to. You felt too exhausted, your throat was practically scratched and you felt like you’d die any time soon.
Wonwoo felt kind of helpless. Like the scared cat he is, he was so concerned that he couldn’t help you. “I’ll be right back, baby. Close your eyes for a bit.”
So you did, closing your eyes and letting your tired body fall into a slumber again, you didn’t know that your lover had called your mom.
“Y/n,” Wonwoo quietly spoke, putting his hand onto your forehead to feel your temperature. “I made a soup for your sickness, I know you aren’t hungry, but you need to eat something.”
He made sure, that the soup didn’t have any big chunks or pieces of any chicken or vegetables in it, so you wouldn’t have to swallow that much with your sore throat.
And after helping you up, and feeding you spoon for spoon, you realized that it was your moms sickness soup.
Wonwoo kindly asked your mother to give him her recipe, because if he cooked it himself your mother wouldn’t have to come over and risk getting sick too.
“Did I make it similar to your mom’s?” He asked carefully, earning a small nod from you.
“Your fever is also going down, my baby. I’ll tuck you back into bed, after we’ve finished your soup, yeah?”
You knew that this was his love language, taking care of you. Wonwoo, your handsome lover, didn’t mind getting sick from taking care of you, as long as he knew you’d be back to your sunny self after.
౨ৎ —————— onlyhaos !!
I’m sorry I haven’t posted in ages😭😭 I’ve recently been sick, had to learn for exams and just had no time for literally anything😔 I hope I could make it up to y’all with this small fic💓
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piggycyberwarrior · 1 month
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Summary: After Task Force 141 got a hint that you gave important information to their enemy- the boys do not hesitate to chain you up and give you a taste of hell. You on the other hand are innocent but they do not believe you
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Platonic Task Force 141! x Fem!Reader (Simon Ghost Riley x Fem!Reader)
a/n: part 3‘s probably gonna take a while- oop.. enjoyyyyy
Warnings: uhm this whole fic is basically a warning. Torture; Blood; Mental Health; Angst angst angst not proof read CURSING!!! (Like always ngl). Being extremely drunk in a funny way(?) idk never been drunk before
genre: ANGST
+ 1,7k words
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6
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Base. Last Year. Warm summer night.
A memory so stupid yet so sweet you often thought back to it. Still fresh, lingering in your brain like a welcomed cloud. Nothing special- still, like a upbeat song- making you happy- feeling fuzzy.
Just a night spent with your people. People that understood you. People that were aware of your fears just like you were aware of theirs.
Time slowed down when you dived back into the memory. Happiness flooding your senses every time.
Crickets chirping late at night- warm air coming through the opened window of the community area- making you feel fuzzy and warm.
Johnny was drunk as hell back than- just like you have been. Ghost- was clearly amused- having a softer look on his face- as you and Soap emotionally sung 'let it go'- feeling every second. Soaps loud voice combined with the scottish accent made you laugh uncontrollably- finding it hard to breath.
Everything was just so much funnier that night.
Making up lyrics at some point- too drunk to remember every line- and even Ghost had to admit the next day that the freestyle parts weren't even that bad.
Price was in a good mood as well- leaning back and watching two of his three Sergeants almost crying while singing a stupid song and dancing to it.
And Gaz? That man was deep gone in his slumber- beer still in hand whilst he snored the whole time- drool dribbling down his chin and pooling onto the table where his head crashed onto half an hour ago.
'Kids'- Price just thought- chuckling while shaking his head slightly in disbelief. His Fingers shortly ran over moustache- giving Simon a knowing look as his liuetenant switched your drink with cold water- not wanting you to throw up your organs the next day. Even if Ghost didn‘t admit it- Price knew how fond the liuetenant was of you. He saw it in the way he let you near- how he carried you when you dodged that bullet for him.
Price never mentioned it but he saw the tears that brimmed in Simons eyes back then- frantically carrying you bridal style to the medics- never leaving your side for days. Just waiting and praying for you to recover
You took a sip of the water- now too busy to paint Kyle's nails with a hot pink Nail polish named 'Babygirl kiss' or something of the sort- not even noticing the switch of your drink- too drunk to care.
Soap was also busy distracting Price before the man finally saw what you did to Kyle. "Y/n- no" John only tutted like a parent- as he saw Gaz' now pink nails. "Whaaaa'? shi' loogs good" you slurred with a loopsided grin- hiccuping after your words and earning a gentle pat on your shoulder
"Maybe a little punishment for passing out.. its not even permanent" Ghost shrugged- same unreadable expression on his face even tho you finally abandoned your artsy task and were sprawled over his lap on the couch- fiddling with his mask like a child- feeling tired out of the sudden.
Soap just nodded his head furiously at Ghosts words- just like you- liking the polish on your friends fingers. „Ya dinnae fink tha‘ thad lass hs a broblem wih‘ tha, did a?“ the man with the mohawk slurred while stumbling slightly to take another shot.
Price sighed with a nod- taking a big gulp of his Whiskey befor he closed his eyes- feeling the burning sensation trailing down his esaphagus. Still suprised that Ghost even let you so close to him. Touching him so often.
"Uhhg" Soap moaned in pain as he laid on the cheap carpet floor- holding his belly.. "May'be- goo mally jelly jots" he bitched- curling up to a ball to immediately pass out- earning a chuckle from his Captain.
It was a silly memory- just funny when remembered- thats what you liked. Something that feels normal- comfortable.
.
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.
Now it wasn't anymore.
Far from it actually.
You dreamed often times down here- memories that normally made you laugh- now making you cry. Wishing to just forget everything you ever witnessed with them. Even if it made your day back then.
You had to admit that you sometimes wished to travel back in time. Make everything right- but what did you even done? Right.
Nothing.
You could feel yourself getting weaker. Little to no food, the wetness and cold temperatures of the room crawled up your bones- making you shiver almost all the time- legs and arms turning painfully cold- almost like dead meat.
It was quiet most of the time. Too quiet. Too dark. The cell was made to torture- to confuse- to limit your senses. And it did.
You shook your legs in the darkness of the room. Feeling them getting weaker again. You didn't sit down for almost 2 weeks. Trying to move your fingers- hissing softly as the cuffs scratched uncomfortably at your already raw rubbed wrists. You couldn't feel your arms- just hoped that your fingers really did move.
„Fuck“ you hissed- vision getting blurry with tears of frustration- and pain- and all the fucked up stuff that clouded your brain down in this shithole.
Slamming your bare foot behind you against the wall- definitely scratching it up during the process. „Fuck- I am going to kill everyone of you dirty fuckers!“ you yelled in agony- pulling at your chains- they did not budge a millimeter- just clinking under your movements.
Everything hurt. You had to admit that. Your eye was almost swollen shut, you could feel that. Broken nose, maybe also a black eye on the other side. Cuts adorning your Belly as well as your back-
You could swear that your toes and fingers were turning blue due to the coldness
You sighed into the silence. If it were any other occasion you would have probably thought about killing yourself? But now? Hah.
You will fucking live. Fucking spit in their faces Make them fucking bleed their hearts out and Scream.
Simon.
oh you were going to make him weep like a baby when all of this is done- destroying his tough shell with hateful words. Something that hurts him the most. Being Abandoned.
You were fucking Angry.
angry wasn‘t even fitting- you were furious, boiling with hate, wanting to see them destroyed.
Yeah. Your mother probably would say something like "Anger and revenge is no way out- its an unhealthy coping mechanism". You loved your Mother- didn't even know if she got informed what was going on here- probably not- you thought.
Still you wanted to throw a middlefinger at that statement. Yes. revenge isn't always a good answer. But here? Right now?
It seemed like a fucking good plan.
.
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.
"Just tell us, sugar" Gaz spat at you with a venom laced voice. Looking at your quiet and beat up frame. Painfully squeezing your chin inbetween his fingers to make you look at him.
"What? Cat gotcha tounge?" he asked with a bloodthirsthy smile. "Didn't think we would find out, eh?" he asked staring at you with a clenched jaw- he was seething.
No need to be a pro to see that.
Your feelings matched his expression perfectly - you didn't show him though. Staring into his eyes with a dead look- not bothering talking to him. "Maybe I should cut your tounge off, huh? Liking that idea, sweetie?" holding up his knife and cocking his head towards it to prove his point.
You rolled your eyes at that gesture, earning a quick stab into your shoulder, grunting at the sudden attack- not expecting it. Breathing getting heavier as you comprehended the pain that passed through your veins like a wildfire. Spreading its painful heat into every tissue of your body.
"fucker" you chocked out- getting kicked into your stomach for your words- your whole body cramping at the forcefull impact.
Body crumpling together as much as you could- still chained to the bar at the ceiling. "Just tell us the truth!" Gaz sneered angered- fist tightening as he pulled the sharp dagger out of your shoulder- an ugly squelching sound emitting during the process- making you shudder, even though you heard it pretty often during your career.
You huffed angrily- cold sweat forming on your body. Mixing with the dirt and dried up blood- sticking to your skin in an uncomfortable way.
"I. Didn't. Do. SHIT!" you yelled at him- a fire errupting in Gaz eyes, his mouth clenching shut- jabbing you into your throat with his hand out of nowhere-
And everything turned black.
.
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Gaz sighed at your unconscious self. Fist clenching and unclenching around the hilt of the bloody dagger- other hand coming up to wipe away the sweat that formed on his face.
"Fuck, just please.. tell us the truth" he whispered before turning around.
he quickly left- Room turning dark again. The singular lightbulb getting dimmer and dimmer till the light completely vanished.
.
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Your shoulder stung like a bitch after you gained consciousness. Groaning in pain- the warm liquid still slowly trickling down your shoulder, over your chest- trailing further down.
„Fucking bitch“ you moaned in pain- curses- all directed at Kyle flooded your mouth
„Motherfucker!“ you whimpered- shoulders trembling- making you wince even more. Feeling the tightness in the back of your throat- accompanied by the bitter taste and burning sensation in your eyes- frustrating you even more. tears falling free- creating small streaks on their way down- contrasting with the dried up blood on your beat up face.
A sob was the first thing that broke the silence for a long time. Then another- and another. All drenched in pain. Hurt. Betrayal.
Sobs wrecked your body- coughing after some minutes of crying your soul out. Too much Saliva or mucus in your nasal area. You pleaded into the cold air. Missing your family. Missing your happiness. Missing the old times.
old times..
Hours passed. Exhausted look on your face. Eyes shallow. Trying to drift off into sleep again.
You didn‘t care that you were probably ignoring the advice from your Mother that she taught you since you were little.
Fucking making them die on the inside it is.
Die on the Inside.
Fuckers.
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