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#but now that i’m awake i can’t sleep again but i’m still SO SO tired
alatushours · 1 day
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☆ SLEEPYHEAD, feat. roronoa zoro — no matter how tired he is, zoro is always willing to keep you company.
contents. gender neutral reader, fluff fluff fluff, established relationship. soft zoro ! ! ! post-timeskip but can be read any time after the crew receives the sunny. tw. insomnia, reader is gn but lives in the women’s quarters, maybe ooc zoro ♡ word count. 616
notes. aaand mari finally makes a comeback !!! so sorry to keep you all waiting for so long, i lost my spark for a while. however i am excited to say that this is my official one piece writing debut !!! (love potion doesn’t count guys) i think about zoro everyday,,, he’s such a comfort character to me <3 sorry for any mistakes, i haven’t written in a very long time ♡
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when you can’t sleep, you go look for zoro on the sunny.
peeking open the door of the girl's cabin, you step out in your sandals onto the wooden deck, the floorboards slightly creaking. walking to the port side of the ship, you watch the reflection of the stars over the open sea before moving to search for your lover.
sometimes zoro might be sitting on night watch at the bow, or in the kitchen for a midnight snack. most of the time though, he’s up in the crow’s nest training or catching up on sleep away from the rowdiness of the men’s cabin.
you find him doing the latter tonight, his swords cradled in his folded arms as he dozed. you smile and close the door quietly behind you, careful not to disturb him.
however, zoro stirs, his eye peeking open. “hey. what’re ya doing?”
well, there goes that. “sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you up,” you whisper. “i was just coming to look for you.”
he chuckles softly. “couldn’t sleep again, huh? why didn’t you just say so?”
you smile sheepishly. “sorry… i had too much coffee today, and then earlier me and the girls were watching a horror movie on the video transponder snail, so now i’m up.”
you shrug, and your boyfriend laughs again. “c’mere.”
you make your way to snuggle into zoro’s chest. his gold earrings clink together as he shifts, his arms moving to wrap around your waist. “how was your day?” you ask him, absentmindedly tracing the scar on his torso.
“nothin’ interesting,” he replies, his voice raspy in your ear. “just training ‘nd watch, the usual.” but you could tell he was tired, from the way he was blinking slowly every few seconds to keep himself from falling asleep. “whadda ‘bout you?”
you talk to him for a few minutes, telling him about how you and chopper caught a load of fish today (and how luffy ended up eating all of it at the end, to sanji’s anger). zoro chuckles, smiling as he listened to your ramblings.
after a while, zoro hums, his fingers tangling themselves into your hair. “sorry, i needa sleep,” he whispers in your ear. “nami said we’re gonna get to the next island real early in the mornin’ so i gotta keep watch. you can sleep here with me if ya want, though.”
“oh, okay,” you intertwine your fingers with his, making yourself comfortable against the warmth of his body. “will you call me when you wake up? i wanna watch the sunrise with you.”
your boyfriend nods slowly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “sure. now go to sleep, yeah? i’ll be here if ya need me.”
“okayyy,” you draw out the word. “oh, one more thing.”
he groans, “what is it?”
you grin at him, giving him a kiss on the lips. “i love you, ‘zo.”
zoro smacks your ass playfully, but not without returning the kiss. “yeah, yeah, i know. i love you too. now seriously, go to sleep!”
you giggle, closing your eyes to the soft lull of his breathing. eventually, you drift off to sleep, not knowing that your lover was still awake to ensure your peaceful rest.
zoro would slice up mountains, cut the moon in half and bring the pieces back to you if you asked; he'd do anything for you. your needs always come first; after all, he will always be indebted to the love that you showed him, what seemed like not so long ago. something as small as helping you fall asleep was nothing compared to your love, your utter adoration for him.
plus, he always slept better with you at his side.
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end notes. the fact that it took me a month to write the first half of this and the other half in less than a day… and it’s still not even 1k words 😭 idk how i used to do it omg. but anyhoo soft zoro soft zoro soft zoro ! ! ! i’m normal about him i swear
© alatushours 2024. please do not copy, modify, or translate my work in any way, nor upload to any other platforms. in the meantime, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and consider leaving a follow! it helps a lot ♡
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boxofbonesfic · 21 hours
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Title: Blood and Sand (1 of 2)
Pairing: Werewolf!Moon Knight x Reader
Summary: You are selected to accompany your mentor on a dig, but what you find in the desert instead makes you wish you had never come at all.
Warnings: Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Fantasy, Dark Fantasy, Murder, Kidnapping, Cults, Implied Torture, AU, Eventual Smut, Monsterfucking, Lycanthropy
A/N: I hope part one is enough to get you all salivating! I’ve had this idea kicking around for a bit, and I’m happy to finally be doing something about it. Please don’t hesitate to let me know what you think with a comment or a reblog! divider by @firefly-graphics
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You come to as the truck’s lurching, uneven gait smooths out, the tires quieting as they pass from sand to something more hard packed, like a road. You had grown so used to bumping along over the dunes, bouncing around in the bed of the truck like a sack of grain that now the road feels strange, instead of comforting. Your mouth tastes like dry cotton and sand—and blood, from where your lip had split when the butt of the gun had impacted it, hard. You’re not sure who’d done it—you were already dizzy from the blow to the back of your head. 
Pretty sure I’m concussed. 
You’re not a doctor, but you’re pretty sure you’re not supposed to sleep after a concussion, though the reason why escapes you currently. The truck jolts over something you can’t see—a pothole? A body? The thick, hot bag they’d thrown over your head prevents you from seeing anything, it barely lets your breath out, let alone letting light in. Something heavier than the empty canisters of gasoline that had been pushed aside to make room for the two of you lands against you, and you yelp, flinching before you realize—it’s the professor. Your hands are aching and sore where they’ve been bound behind you, so you can’t help him right himself. 
He groans with pain. 
“P-professor Hartwell?” You don’t think they can hear you in the cab, not over the sound of the tires on the road. Still, you try to keep your voice low. “Professor are you alright?” For once, you actually hope to hear his grim, irritated voice—but you hear nothing, only the rattling breaths in his chest as he pants. You wait a moment, and try again. 
“Professor?” 
For another few heartbeats, the only sound is that of the truck beating the road beneath it into submission, before your mentor takes another wet, rasping breath. 
“Y-you must not let them.” The words are nearly lost in his pained wheezing. You know you’re probably imagining it, but you can smell copper through the bag, taste it thickly in the air. “They’ll want you to read from the book,” this time, you know you aren’t imagining it—something hot and wet seeping against your side where the professor is pressed against you. 
“You must not.” 
“What—what book? P-professor sit up, you, you have to sit up a—and stay awake—” The cough that wracks his frame sounds loud and painful. You feel his body spasm as the truck hits another something, and the back of your head bounces hard off of the side of the bed, making you see stars against the inside of the bag. 
“Gods forgive me,” he rasps. “Forgive me. I never knew it would—-” His pained rambling is nonsensical, devolving into strings of words you can barely understand. “Bury it, burn it, make it dust and scatter it to the wind, you hear? Destroy it!” Hands grasp your shoulders, his, you realize, bony and thin, the tips digging into your flesh insistently. He’d been bound, just like you were, hands secured behind your backs with zip ties—so how did he hold you now? Shaking you like a rag doll as he shouts into your covered face, the scent and taste of his blood choking you. 
“Burn it all!” It’s hot, so hot, hotter than you’ve ever been, even here in the desert, and your dry lips crack and bleed as your head snaps back and forth on your shoulders. All you taste is fire and blood. “To ashes!” His voice booms in your ears and in your skull and for a moment you fear he will fling you out of the bed of the truck, but he releases you, collapsing against the hard plastic beneath you with a bang. 
You swallow, running your dry tongue along your aching lips, almost afraid to speak. 
“Professor?”
There is no answer.
When the truck finally stops, you ready yourself. 
The door to the cab creaks as it swings open, and the impact of boots in the sand makes you snap to attention. You wince, shrinking back as the tailgate opens, rough hands grabbing at your ankles. You kick, struggling and cursing as you’re dragged from the truck bed, the breath knocked from your body as you land on your back, hard. 
“Fucking bitch.” Someone curses, and you hear boots scuffle against the cracked asphalt beneath you just in time for you to ready yourself for the blow. It comes, a steel toed boot digging hard into the softness of your belly. You wheeze. A rough hand knots in the collar of your shirt, pulling you up. The bag is ripped off, and hot—but fresh—air immediately surges around your cheeks. It’s still night, the moon big and full and nearly sun-bright above you. You blink, your eyes watering in the sudden light. 
The man above you grins, his blue eyes creasing at the corners. “Think we’ve got a live one.” His thickly accented words are mocking. Russian, maybe.
“F-fuck you!” Your voice trembles, but you don’t care, lashing out again with your own legs until he kicks you again. This time, you puke, bile stinging your cut lips as it erupts out of your mouth. You heave onto the road while he stands over you, laughing. With his boot, he rolls you over onto your belly, planting a knee in the center of your back, pressing hard until you cry out. The sound of a knife being flicked open makes your eyes widen, and you struggle beneath his weight. The blond leans down over you, his hot, liquor stained breath coating the side of your face.
“Keep it up, curly,” he presses the knife to the side of your face. “They don’t say nothing about you being in one piece. Only breathing.” You release the breath held in your trembling throat as he pulls the knife away, leaning back to grab at your bound hands. The edge of the blade slides through the plastic like soft butter, and immediately you crawl out from underneath him. 
“Mikhail, enough.” There are two other men watching, a dark haired one and another blond. 
“Fuck off, Rumlow.” 
“You killed the other one. You want to explain to him why you’re coming back down two hostages?” Rumlow crosses the road to squat in front of you, one hand resting comfortably on his knee, the other loosely gripping a pistol. He snaps, like he’s trying to get your attention, even though he already has it. “You see that old fuck?” He points to the body of your professor in the bed of the truck to your left. You don’t need to look to know he’s dead. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken since his tirade earlier, how could he be living? 
And more than that, you don’t want to look. Because you will see him zip-tied, hands bound—the same hands that had gripped you with unearthly fury, blazing hot like an avenging angel. No, you do not want to think of that at all. 
“Unless you’d like that to be you, you’re going to behave.” He cocks the gun. “Understand?” 
You nod. 
“Good.” 
Mikhail glares at Rumlow hatefully, and then at you, and you can tell he doesn’t enjoy being called to heel. 
“Give the bitch her water and put the bag back on, Jensen.” He sneers, before spitting into the dirt at your feet. “Cyka.” You don’t know what the word he says under his breath means, but you get the feeling it doesn’t mean anything good. The other blond, a lanky, tall man with glasses, jogs around to the other side of the truck, tugging open the door. He roots around inside before producing a water bottle. You nearly drop it as he tosses it to you, fumbling to get the cap off before pouring the contents down your aching throat, sparing a few drops to rinse your face. 
It’s done before you realize it, and you find yourself shaking the bottle to get the last drops out. Mikhail laughs. 
“Back in the bed, cyka.” He snaps, kicking at your feet. “Let’s go.” You hesitate, your hand trembling as you pause above the tailgate. The professor’s body is still there, lying in the bed of the truck like a broken doll. Mikhail shoves your shoulder. “Move.” 
“I—the body,” you choke out, licking at your lips to ease the burn of speaking. “Can’t you… do something?” He heaves a put upon sigh. You don’t know what you’re expecting, not really, but you clap your hands over your mouth to stifle your shocked scream as Mikhail grabs Professor Hartwell’s ankle and hauls him out of the bed of the truck. He goes easily of course—he’s dead, you remind yourself, fucking dead—landing on the edge of the old road. His body rolls off the side into the sand filled ditch along the side of it, and you know in just a few hours he will be completely covered. 
This road is old, seldom used, by the looks of it, deep cracks filled with sand, and no signs for miles in any direction. Large portions of it have been taken back by the desert, Sand and tufts of wispy grass eclipsing the road’s broken remains. 
You don’t want to leave the professor here. 
You have little choice, though, as Mikhail, whose patience you have finally worn thin, shoves you into the bed of the truck. The tailgate nearly catches your fingers as he slams it closed, and you let out a dismayed cry as your face presses against the hard plastic of the bed and you find it wet. You scramble up and away from it on your hands and knees, wiping your face with your hand and whimpering as it comes away red. 
The truck starts up again, bumping along the abandoned road as you watch the professor’s hooded body grow smaller and smaller in the distance, and then finally disappear altogether. 
It’s nearly dawn when you arrive, the edges of the sky turning pink as finally, you see lights. Artificial ones of course, mounted atop a double-thick chainlink fence. The floodlights atop the guard station illuminate the entire truck for close to ten minutes before finally it slows to a stop beside the checkpoint. You cower against the side of the bed as an armed guard shines a flashlight into your face, ever aware of the intimidating looking machine gun strapped to his back. When he’s satisfied, he mumbles something you don’t catch into a walkie-talkie, and the entrance slides open. 
He makes some sort of sign as the truck rolls away, like the cross almost, but only on the right side, and the gate slides closed again behind you. Jensen helps you out of the bed, but directs you with a firm hand on your shoulder towards a long, narrow building. It sprawls out for uncountable meters, but only two, three stories high. You aren’t really afforded a proper look as you’re shuffled inside, Mikhail grumbling bad naturredly behind you. 
The lights inside buzz artificially, and you wince and stumble as you attempt to adjust to them after outside. There is a large staircase leading up to the other floors to the left of the door, but beyond it the building stretches on in a maze of narrow hallways. 
The line of men before you can be no better described than as priests, long black vestments with red satin trims, white collars at their throats. One of them steps forward, his face twisting in distaste at the mercenaries. 
“He wants to see her.” He looks at you with equal disdain, before glaring at the men behind you. “Where is Professor Hartwell? He was to accompany—”
“The old man didn’t want to come.” Mikhail snaps. “It seem he had little… change of heart since last time.”
Last time?
The priest heaves an irritated sigh. “Fine. He—he’s not going to be happy about this, you know. He would have at least liked to speak with him—”
“Then let him tell us that.” Mikhail is big—which feels like an understatement, looking at him. He’s a tank of a man, broad shouldered, and built like a brick fucking shit-house. He knows it too, squaring his muscular shoulders and fixing the priest with a glare. “Yeah?”
He caves. “Fine.” His irritated gaze finds you once more, and you have a sinking feeling that you will be the recipient of his ire. “Come, then.” He grabs you by the wrist as if touching something unpleasant. “Let’s get this over with.” 
You consider running, just for a moment, before the idea laughs itself out of your head. It would be stupid even to try. Defeated, you follow the priest up the stairs and down the corridor, glad at least to be away from Mikhail. The hallway is nondescript, which feels very much on purpose; so you wouldn’t be able to recall a single descriptive thing about this place—
It could be anywhere. 
The third or fourth door on the right is open, and he ushers you inside before stepping in himself and closing the door. Inside is like an office, neat bookcases lining the walls on either side of the wide desk. On the other side of it, is a man. 
He peers at you, long fingers steepled together beneath his chin. His black hair is slicked back, sharp green eyes taking in the still stinging cut above your left eye, your bloody nose and heat chapped lips. 
“A pity about the Professor.” He says after a moment. “I’d looked forward to seeing him again.” You don’t say anything. The impression rises in you that this is a man who likes to hear himself talk, and you want to hear what he has to say, if only to gain an inkling of understanding about your own predicament. The man leans forward, cocking his head. ”Do you know who I am?” 
“No.” You reply dryly. “Should I?” He doesn’t like that. His expression only changes minutely, a slight narrowing of the eyes, a tightness in the smile—but enough for you to see it. 
“Should? I don’t know about should,” he drawls. “But I’d think you’d at least like to know who’s been signing your paychecks for the last six months, hmm?” Your stomach drops to your feet, and though you try to school your expression into one of forced nonchalance, the man behind the desk’s sly smile turns victorious. “Oh, he didn’t tell you.” 
“I get paid by the university,” you reply through tightly clenched teeth. “I—”
“And who do you think pays them?” He stands from behind the desk, rising to his full height like a snake uncoiling. “There’s a reason your department is so well funded, Love.” You try to take a step back as he approaches, but the solid form of the priest behind you boxes you in. He towers over you, forcing you to look up just to maintain eye contact as he steps closer.
“I expect Horace thought he would have more time.” There is a brassy colored cart next to the desk, and he plucks a glass from the topmost shelf, before rummaging around on the one beneath it. “Ah, here we are.” He produces a crystalline decanter, and your throat constricts thirstily at the sight of the clear liquid inside. You don’t know how many days it’s been since you’ve last had a proper drink of water—the bottle in the car a proverbial drop in a dry ocean—but you suspect it’s been more than three. You watch, ashamed of your own need as he pours it into the glass. 
“More time to explain, to scheme, to scheme with you. But that’s the thing about hubris,” he sighs, filling a second glass and drinking deeply—gratefully from it. You watch him, unable to stop your dry throat from swallowing reflexively as he does, imagining cool water filling your own mouth. 
“Oh, would you like some?” He asks, offering it to you as though he’d thought he already done so. You gulp it down, chasing the stray drops from your lips with the back of your hand. “You’re welcome.” 
“What do you want from me?” You ask, dropping the glass back onto the table gracelessly. He grimaces. “And you still haven’t told me your name.” 
“Loki.” He refills your glass. “I just need you to read something for me.” He says, the words nonchalant. “Just a few passages. I know you can.“ Loki’s hawkish eyes narrow at the corners as he smiles at you. “Horace was an excellent teacher.” 
It’s useless to deny what you both know is true, grueling nights spent poring over texts and tablets older than your entire family line, helping Professor Hartwell translate and document. 
And the man in front of you had paid for all of it. 
You must not. Even the memory of his words feels hot, sweeping through your skull like hot desert wind. Burn it all to ashes.
“What do you want me to read, exactly?” Loki’s smile widens uncomfortably. 
“Just a book.” 
“And if I don’t?”
“You’re not really in a position to negotiate, Love.” Loki says, inspecting his nails. You can’t stop yourself from scowling at him, baring your teeth between your cracked lips as you sneer. 
“Stop pretending I’m forcing your hand, you—”
“Awful, what happened at your dig site.” His brows knit together as his expression turns smugly apologetic. “It’s always nasty business, when someone involves innocent people in what should be private affairs.” 
“Fuck you.”
“My hand was forced.” His grip turns vicious, his thumb digging into your skin hard enough to make you whimper, his eyes hard and cold. 
“Do not force it again.” 
The observational cell you’re forced into seems outdated, repurposed for its current use as a jail. The guards stationed at the end of the hallway barely spare you a look as you’re marched by, the muzzle of Mikhail’s gun pressed against your spine. Only one of the lights swinging from the damp ceiling actually works, buzzing to life dimly as Mikhail shoves you inside unceremoniously. 
As the rusty bolts slide shut, the bare bulb above you goes dim, leaving you in near darkness, aside from what little light filters in through the observational window in the wall above your head. The air is stagnant and moist, the sound of dripping water coming from somewhere in the darkness. 
I’m not alone in here.
You don’t know how you know that, because there’s no tell—merely the presence of another living thing pushing against you like holding magnets with like polarities together as hard as you could. Your skin prickles with the knowledge, cold sweat dripping down beneath your dirty collar. You swallow. 
“Hello?”
For a moment—a minute or two at least—there is no response. 
“You’re not the professor.” The voice sounds…tired. 
“I keep disappointing people that way.” 
There is a sound like metal rubbing against metal, and just at the border of the darkness, you see movement. The man that emerges from the darkness is tall, broad shouldered with dark, curly hair. High cheekbones and wide dark eyes. Bare chested, with iron manacles at his wrists, and ankles. There’s a collar at his throat, as well, and as he steps closer you note the chains that travel backward, disappearing into the shadows. His linen pants are dirty at the bottom, his bare chest peppered with old, yellowing bruises. 
“Who are you, then?” His gaze saddens as he looks at you. “No one they like, if you’re in here with me.” You eye his chains, gesturing at them with your hands. You laugh dryly. 
“No,” you agree, thinking back on your conversation with Loki. “No one they like.” 
“I’m Marc.” He offers you his hand. “I’m sorry you’re here.” You tell him your own name. 
“Me too.”
They come for him every night, you realize. Dragging Marc out of the cell for hours until dawn, when he returns bruised and bleeding, exhausted. 
It happens on the third night you’re there, Mikhail and Rumlow barging in as the two of you sleep, back to back on the cot. You still ache where he kicked you, and Mikhail knows it, lunging toward you only to watch you flinch back as he laughs. 
“Where are you taking him?”
“Be careful, cyka.” He says, spitting at the ground near Marc’s feet. “You’ll get rabies from this one.” Marc doesn’t react, his dark eyes trained hard on the wall. He’s just as big as them, but he doesn’t fight back as Rumlow shuffles him out. You watch through the window until you can’t see him anymore, your face pressed against the glass. 
The sun is peeking through the narrow window on the opposite wall, high enough to let you know it’s late morning at least when they bring him back. Marc looks changed, somehow more fragile, his face drawn and skin pale. His skin bears fresh wounds, new bruises, and the skin around his mouth is stained dark, dry red. 
Marc stumbles towards the cot, throwing himself down onto it, his shoulders heaving. 
“M-Marc?” Your voice sounds timid and terrified, even to your own ears. “What—what happened?”
He lays there, facing the wall for a long time. 
“I’m Jake.” He says finally, turning to peer at you over his shoulder. You take a step back—this isn’t Marc. “He—what they did… it was too much. I’m driving right now.” His eyes are darker, more serious, face drawn tight with emotion he won’t name—no. This isn’t the same man. Same body—different person. Fleetingly, your brief and unenjoyable psychology class flits back to you—Dissociative Identity Disorder—
“Okay.” 
You hesitate before placing a comforting hand on his bare shoulder. His skin is clammy. Jake glares over his shoulder at you. “I’m not Marc.”
“I get that. You’re bleeding.” There aren’t any bandages, but you’re more than willing to sacrifice your outermost layer of clothing for the cause, helping you tear them to shreds. The pail of water you’re given every morning is meant to suffice , so you try to make it last, cleaning the wounds as thoroughly as you can afford to. After a few passes, Jake relaxes beneath your touch. 
“Thank you.” He seems unused to softness of any kind.
“Don’t mention it.” 
The conversation that day is minimal—Jake’s not a talker. But he makes his presence known in other ways, watching you with quiet eyes from across the room as you investigate every corner. Occasionally, he offers commentary when you prompt him. 
No, the windows never open. 
Mierda! Keep climbing up there and you’ll break your damn neck. 
Keep that up and the guards will be down here to check on us in no time.
When sleep is unavoidable, Jake doesn’t stop you from laying down next to him on the thin cot. 
“Goodnight, Jake.” There’s an answering grunt from beside you, though he says nothing. 
When you wake in the middle of the night, he is gone again. 
 When you do finally dream, you wish for the abyss again, the dreamless dark that you’d feared as you dozed in the truck. That would have been better than seeing it again. The sand is burning hot on your hands as you scramble over the dunes, gunfire pockmarking the sand only inches behind you as you trip over the shifting earth toward the jeeps. People are screaming, there’s wetness on your face, you realize it as you move to wipe the sweat from your eyes only to discover it isn’t sweat at all—but blood. 
So many bodies. And you know all their names—Ursula, Ahmed, Ricky, Britney, David—You know all their names, and they bleed out into the thirsty sand and are lost as you watch. 
The sting above your left eye worsens, and as you lick your lips you taste the wound, clinging to your tongue as the professor grabs your arm—
Run, run—
You wake up screaming, flailing in the dark on the threadbare cot. The chains rattle as he scrambles towards you, hands up placatingly as you raise your own, ready to defend yourself from threats both real, and imagined. One of the guards pounds on the window with the butt of his rifle.
“Keep her fucking quiet!”
“Hey,” Steven approaches you like he’s talking to a wounded animal. His voice is soft, kind.“You’re okay. You’re here, right? You’re not there, the place in your dreams isn’t real, right? It’s a dream. It’s the past, it’s not here, okay?” You sob into his chest, clutching at him as he rocks you back and forth as gently as if he were holding a baby bird. 
You’re afraid to ask what they make him do, afraid to have him confirm what you already know. The place where it happens can’t be far away from your prison. If you strain hard enough, force yourself to stay up as late as you possibly can until terror and exhaustion put you to sleep again, you can hear the screams. 
And something… else. 
Howling.
Sometimes he comes back naked, clutching his pants in trembling hands, retching up red bile into the far corner where the half-broken toilet is. The word for what he is dances on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t want to say it, give it air and space and reality. 
They chain you like Marc when they come for you, marching the two of you through the impersonal concrete maze before forcing both of you into a large room. There’s a stone altar at the center, and you nearly trip over your own feet at the sight of the man bound and gagged upon it. Your questions do the same in their haste to escape your mouth. 
“W-what? Who is that? What—”
Rumlow presses the gun against the back of your head, pulling down the hammer. 
“Walk.” 
You do, swallowing the words back down in a cold, terrified lump. 
Loki waits for you on the other side of the dais, a pleased expression on his face. He steps aside as you approach, positioning you in front of the man. You watch as they loop Marc’s chains through iron pegs only a few feet from the man, whose eyes are wide with terror. Only minimal sound escapes around the gag, though, spit leaking from the corners of his mouth. 
“Here we are. Now.” He taps a long finger against the podium. “Let’s begin.” You stand next to him, squinting down at the book. It’s old—not paper, not really, comprised of pressed thin sheets of fibrous plants, painted over with flaking black ink. But the letters are familiar, and after a moment, you begin to read. The words are halting, clumsy as you sound them out. The more you read, the more you understand. 
This is not just a passage you’re reading, holy text from some archaic book—no, these are commands. Ones that make your tongue burn as the words leap from it.
The dais fills with silvery light, and when you look up, you see the moon, framed perfectly through the skylight. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? The moon had been full the night the professor—
“Are you deaf? I said read.” Loki snarls, grabbing the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. You can’t though, not when Marc’s cry of pain splits the air. He writhes down there on the floor, his body contorting. You watch, horrified as his limbs lengthen and thicken with sickening cracks, the bones and muscle shifting under his skin. He moans, his body shuddering, back bowing unnaturally as his legs shift, bones splitting skin before it crawls closed again like it has a mind of its own. 
Marc mouths something at you that you don’t understand, not right away—you can’t, his jaw is breaking now, and lengthening into something new, something that doesn’t support speech, not the way his human mouth did. 
Forgive me. 
“Read!” You hadn’t heard Loki cock the gun, but it presses into your skull intimidatingly. 
Your head buzzes with the power of the words as you begin to speak them, again, your vision blurring. Understanding comes, even as the syllables fall clumsily from your unfamiliar lips. 
“King of roads. 
King of thieves. 
King of vengeance. 
King of nights and moons and just blades
I weild your fist
I wield it justly—”
Where once there had been a man, now stands a hulking beast, the head of a jackal, and something like the body of a man, but wrong, the limbs long—like they were made for running on two legs and on four. Its yellow eyes roll. 
“Eat now, fill yourself with flesh and spirit on those who have wronged you,
O King of Moons
King of Roads
King of Vengeance—”
You can feel the tears gathering in your eyes as the beast sets itself upon the man, claws and teeth shredding flesh in a flurry of hot, wet, red. You want to close your eyes, to stop reading, but you can’t—the book will not let you go, not until it’s finished. You see the room before you, see the thing that was Marc as it devours piece after piece of the man on the altar—but you can see beyond, too, through the moon’s eyes like mirrors—
You’re trembling now, seizing, blood leaking from your nose and the corners of your eyes as you strain to let go of the pulpit, to look away from the book, to close your eyes—but it has you, now, a holy conduit for unholy ends. You can practically feel your blood boiling in your veins—
And then nothing. 
part two
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catastrxblues · 9 months
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current mood right now
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garoujo · 9 months
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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you know as soon as you get out of bed, satoru isn’t going to be far behind you, especially when you’re draped in his shirt.
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, insatiable satoru :3, mostly teasing, some morning scenes as he tries to drag you back to bed, you’re in his shirt, he lifts you up at the end. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i am so very obsessed + crazed, i can’t stop <3
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it’s still early, barely light outside as you stand in the kitchen of your shared apartment. you’ve left your boyfriend gojo still in bed, you felt a little bad waking him up when he always looked so peaceful, probably tired out after the night he’d given you lastnight— the evidence of his efforts still burning on your skin where he’s left his mark.
but it had still been an effort to peel him off of you no matter how soundly he slept, having to pull yourself away from the warmth of his chest— his arms were like a puzzle with how tightly he wraps them around you, but you thought he’d appreciate waking up to some coffee and breakfast on his day off.
the air in the kitchen is still cold, something you’ve put down to the early morning— the roads outside are still quiet but there’s a slight breeze along your bare thighs when you move. the rest of your body is fine though, draped comfily in one of satoru’s ridiculously huge shirts, the perks of your boyfriend being over 6’3 ofcourse—plus he always payed such expensive amounts for his clothes, it was almost guaranteed they were gonna be comfy.
you giggle as you scoop a ridiculous amount of sugar into your boyfriends coffee cup, the ceramic identical to yours— his idea when he started coming over more often, but you still thought his sweet tooth was adorable.
“oh? good morning to you too, sweet thing.” your train of thought is interrupted by the smooth, still sleepy drawl as you shoot a quick glance over your shoulder to see gojo already approaching you. he couldn’t be apart from you too long afterall— it’s like his soul was tied with yours. he’s still shirtless, his hair is messy from sleep— snowy peaks framing his features while his sweatpants rest dangerously low on his hips.
“you’re awake early.” you sigh out, dreamily as you feel your boyfriends chest press against your back, his long arms circling their way around your waist from behind as he rests his head in the crook of your neck.
“mhm, how my supposed to sleep without you, hah? so cruel.” there’s a slight whine to gojo’s words, you can still hear the sleepiness in his tone but it makes you smile when it’s followed by a smeared kiss along your jawline. you roll your eyes before you lean into him, feeling his fingertips trace along the hem of your shirt, his shirt that’s hanging around your thighs before he speaks again.
“you teasin’ me?” his words are lower this time, a little more than a growl as he plays around with the fabric between his fingers— grumbling before he’s deliberately pressing his hips into you from behind. he’s close and warm, making sure you can feel the problem you left him with this morning when you got out of bed without him— straining against the fabric of his sweats.
“‘toru, it’s 8am. you’re insatiable.” you giggle out, a sweet little sound so early in the morning and it only seems to draw gojo in closer to you— smiling into his next kiss along your throat as he rolls his hips into you.
“oh, but you left me cold and alone, i think you gotta make that up to me, no?” he’s teasing you, trying to lure you back into where he wants you most— not that he wouldn’t have you anywhere, he’s already had his way with you around this whole apartment. but he wants nothing more than you between the sheets right now, wrapped up in him and the plush mattress beneath you both.
“i’m literally making you a coffee. you needed the rest.” you try to argue but you should know that gojo’s never one to back down. you feel his fingers trail slowly underneath the hem of his shirt, before he sighs with the first teasing swipe along the inside of your bare thigh, so dangerously close to your folds that you shudder. no panties either? you really were teasing him.
“hah? but i feel better than ever.” he tries to argue, oh so convincingly before he’s turning you to face him— peppering sweet, ticklish smooches along your features until you’re arms are wrapping around his shoulders and your eyes are finally on him.
“oh, i’m sure~” you grin, his crystalline gaze is sleepy as you brush your fingers through his bed head— scratching at his scalp before he’s sending you a lopsided grin, followed by a quick peck against your lips.
“got no choice. you need a demostration? let’s go, sweet thing. only one way to show you.” is all you hear from gojo before he’s suddenly got you thrown over his shoulder, and you truly forget how strong he really is until he’s handling you with such ease— holding you with one arm like you’re as light as a feather.
“satoru! what about breakfast?” not that you’re putting up much of a fight, you can basically feel the smug look that’s on his face already as he turns to drag you back to bed. you grumble, defeated but it quickly turns to a shriek when you feel your boyfriends free hand come down sharply on your ass as he chuckles.
“hm? don’t mind. i’m hungry f’ somethin’ else right now, baby.”
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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enhaheeseung · 21 days
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SLEEP 🕒 - L. Heeseung
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🕒Pairing: Heeseung X fem reader!
🕒Warnings: smut, mutual masturbation, cursing.
🕒Synopsis: it’s late, and you can’t sleep, but luckily, your best friend knows just the trick to help you out.
🕒Wc: 1,5k (Drabble)
-
Sighing to yourself, you set your phone down on the lamp stand after you noticed it was literally three in the morning.
You and your best friend had been watching movies talking and hanging out since ten and you hadn’t even noticed the time till now.
“You sleepy?” He turned to you just in time to catch you rubbing your strained eyes.
“Yes, it’s like three am, hee,” you groggily reply, turning on your left side facing away from him.
“Oh shit, you’re right. I’m sorry,” he chuckled. You could tell he was just as tired by how deep his voice had gotten.
“It's alright.” He set his phone aside as well and leaned up against the headboard.
“I guess I better get going.” On cue, he lets out a yawn.
“Are you crazy? It’s so late out you might as well just spend the night” you mumble out.
He rubbed his chin in thought; he was really tired, and driving probably wasn’t the best idea right now. “I didn’t bring anything for a sleepover.”
“Just wear whatever,” you respond, on the verge of passing out.
You feel a dip in the bed and hear him shuffling around. He takes off his pants and his flannel before he slips under the covers with you.
For most, it’d probably seem weird, a guy and a girl sleeping in the same bed, but the number of times you both knocked out together while studying during your high school and college days made this one of the most normal things between you two. “Goodnight, y/n. I might be gone before you wake up.”
“Just make sure to lock the door in the morning night, hee,” you whispered, turning off your lamp while he did the same after you.
You readjusted to get comfortable and pressed your cheek against your pillow, waiting for sleep to come over you.
Ten minutes passed, and sleep never came. You were tired, but for some reason, you just couldn’t fall asleep.
“Ugh,” you groaned and quickly cupped your mouth so you wouldn’t wake heeseung up with the racket.
Little did you know he was still wide awake.
“Y/n?” He asks, followed by a beat of silence. “You’re still up too?” He says with a hint of amusement in his tone. At least he wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping.
“Yes,” you laid flat on your back, copying his resting position. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m tired, but I just can’t seem to sleep,” you respond in the pitch-black bedroom.
“Same,” he sighs, folding his arms over his chest.
You both lay there in silence for a few minutes until he says something that completely catches you off guard.
“I read that having an orgasm can help you fall asleep,” he says casually.
You giggle and push his shoulder, or at least you think it was his shoulder. It was so dark you really couldn’t see. “And where did you read that?”
“The internet, of course, says it has something to do with the release of oxytocin or some shit” he lets out an airy laugh putting his hands behind his head.
“Interesting,” you hum.
“It is, works like a charm for me,” he says through a yawn.
“TMI”
“Oh please, we’ve talked about so much shit that this is PG,” he scoffs.
“Yeah, but not you touching yourself.” You cringe as the words leave your mouth.
“I didn’t say anything like that. All I said was it works,” he shrugs even though you can’t see him.
“Whatever,” you say, too tired to argue with him.
It’s silent again, and the idea he mentioned sounds a lot more appealing than laying here all night without getting any sleep.
But you can’t necessarily try out this little theory of his with him in your room, so that idea was out the window.
“You still up?” He checks on you a minute later, and you hum in response. “I mean, I could give you one if you want,” he holds in his laugh, knowing that you’re about to chastise him.
“Lee heeseung, stop it this instant,” you tell him sternly.
“Okay, okay, just thought I’d ask. I’m your bestie, and besties look out for each other, right?” He continues to push your little buttons.
“Yeah, by giving a shoulder to cry on, not giving each other orgasms,” you huff out a breath.
A thought popped into your head: you weren’t getting any sleep anytime soon, and since he wanted to mess with you, two could play that game. “I mean, you could,” the words leave your mouth in a nonchalant manner.
He gasped, not expecting you to match his humor. Most times, you didn’t when it came to something sexual. “Knock it off. It’s weird when you joke about it,” he laughs.
“Who said I’m joking?” You taunt.
“Cause the y/n I know would never,” he says confidently, thinking he knows you like the back of his hand, and normally he does, but just not when you’re sleep-deprived.
“What about the y/n who’s in desperate need of sleep and will do anything just to catch a few hours before work in the morning?”
His ears are perked up now, the soft, sultry tone of your voice alerting him instantly. “You’re really not joking, are you?”
“Do I sound like I’m joking?” You shift closer to him, and he feels your body heat right away, making his heart beat faster in his chest.
“I-I y/n, if you’re joking, just tell me.” his voice shakes a little, the slightest hint of a whimper traveling close behind his words.
Calling it quits with talking, you find his hand in the dark and grip his wrist, guiding him right between your legs. “Hee, I’d never joke about this,” you gasped as his warm hand cups over your mound.
“Fuck” he whispers and props himself on his side, slowly gliding his hand between your legs. “You really are serious, huh?” His voice sounds even huskier than it did before as he confidently presses your clit over your sleep shorts.
“Yes, hee,” you whine, desperation dripping from your voice as you clench your thighs around his hand, keeping it firmly nestled against you.
“Shit, okay, turn over for me” You get back in your original position, your back now pressed against his chest, his crotch a few inches away from your backside. “Now close your eyes.” his hot breath tickles your ear.
You do as he says, too tired to even think twice about what you’re getting ready to engage in with your best friend.
His two middle fingers rub circles on your clit, working you up quicker than you could have ever imagined. You’re already leaking a bit of precum.
“Mmm,” you moan softly. His fingers felt so good, especially when he slipped them further down, teasing your entrance while his palm rubbed your clit.
Your hand caressed the one that was between your legs, tracing the veins along the back of his hand. “Does that feel good?” He swallowed thickly, his lower body pressing against you unintentionally.
“Yes, hee, so good” he humps your backside, his swollen cock being stimulated by the softness of your plush bottom.
“Yeah, so good,” he whispers in your ear. You feel so good you don’t even notice the way he ruts against you, the movement of his hips forcing your waist to roll against his palm more, bringing you even more satisfaction.
“I’m so close, hee, I’m gonna cum” you cry out, body shuddering as the warmth and pleasure builds in your lower region.
“Shhh, I know, I know,” he breathes out heavily, placing a soft kiss on your cheek and a few more rolls of his hips. You’re both coming undone together, panting exhaustedly.
He rubs you through it, whispering encouraging words in your ear like. “Yeah, feels so good, doesn’t it?” “Let it all out,” “Keep cumming” “That’s it.”
The pleasure goes on for so long that another orgasm follows after giving you the most intense pleasure you’ve ever experienced. “Hee,” you whimper his name, your body trembling against his as you shudder in the aftermath of cumming back to back.
He nuzzles against you, cuddling you and helping you ground yourself until you catch your breath.
He’s still struggling to calm himself with how hard he just came. He hasn’t cum that fast and that much in a while. “Was that good?” He asked timidly into your hair, releasing a deep breath.
“Mmm,” you moan in response, your eyelids finally feeling so heavy that you can barely open them.
But you couldn’t forget about heeseung, so you flipped over on your side, your forehead touching his. “What about you?” You slowly reach into his boxers, gripping the base of his length, feeling a good amount of wetness covering his shaft.
“Ahh, s-sensitive,” he moans shakily.
You retract your hand right away. “Did you-“ he cuts you off, nodding against your forehead, and you slowly pull your hand out of his underwear.
“I’m good,” he assures you. “Let’s sleep now yeah? We’ll clean up in the morning” his words sound slurred and you can barely even understand what he’s saying cause you’re so tired.
Apparently, whatever he read about orgasms was true cause you’ve never fallen asleep faster.
-
Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️
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haikyuuhoo · 8 months
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tired eyes
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pairing: gojo x reader
wc: 790
warnings: light angst, minor manga spoilers
a/n: tagging @shotorus in this bc sel your sleepy gojo thoughts made me unable to stop thinking about this idea I've wanted to write. I know this is so different to the vibes of what you were talking about but I figured you deserved the tag since this lil drabble finally made its way out of my head bc of you <3 (pls don't feel like you need to read this I'm nervy just tagging you lol)
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Gojo’s keys clang loudly against the bowl on the table in the entryway, and he has half a mind to cringe at the noise, seeing as it’s so late and you’re probably asleep by now. He unzips his jacket as he drags his feet in the direction of the bedroom, heaving out a sigh and finally letting his shoulders relax a little, letting some of the tension he’s been harboring for days leave his body. He's so tired that he feels like he could fall asleep in his clothes without even crawling beneath the duvet, though he knows he should at least shower first. But that's all forgotten when he steps into the warm glow spilling into the hallway from the light on your nightstand, and he hesitates for a moment when he notices that you're not asleep—in fact, you're very much awake, like you've been waiting for him.
Your gaze darts up when you see the figure in the doorway, a smile immediately lighting up your face. “You’re home,” you say as you set aside the book you were reading and pull your headphones off.
Gojo raises an eyebrow, making his way to the edge of the bed where you rise onto your knees to meet him. “You’re still up?”
And you nod, shrugging one shoulder slightly as you bring your hands up to cup his face. “Of course. Can’t really sleep well when I’m waiting for you to come back from a mission, ya know?” You say it so casually, but it makes him frown knowing you’re referring to the nineteen agonizing days he was gone from you. You lean in to close the distance between you two, pressing your lips to his in a hungry kiss that has him grasping your waist and pulling you flush against him.
“Well, as much as I wish you wouldn’t stay up just for me, I’m glad you did,” he murmurs into your mouth.
“Mmm,” is all you hum in response, pushing your fingertips underneath his blindfold. And then you kiss his nose, then his forehead, and then briefly his lips again.
And those lips fall into probably the prettiest pout you’ve ever seen. “You gonna take it off?” he asks, his voice low, and normally the tone would have you moving quickly to take everything off of him, but not tonight. Tonight, his voice is low with exhaustion, and you'd noticed the way it seemed to seep into his bones the moment he entered the room.
“No,” you say softly, and he nearly whines, “you’re tired. Your eyes—” You gently let your fingertips smooth across his eyelids over the blindfold “—I’m sure they need the rest.”
Gojo had a penchant for coming home with migraines after missions, all that time with his blindfold off to help him fight draining him and making his eyes even more sensitive than normal, and you’re sure tonight is no different.
“But I want to see you.”
The corner of your mouth tilts up. “I may not know exactly how your technique works, Satoru, but I know you can see me.”
And this time he does whine, squeezing your waist and pressing his forehead against yours. “You know it’s not the same. I wanna see you.”
You hum, stringing him along like you’re thinking about it and toying with the edge of the black fabric. “Okay,” you finally say, “just a peek, yeah?” Before he even has a chance to respond you're lifting it off and dropping it to the side. His hair falls around his face, messier than it normally is, and you gently brush it back.
Gojo blinks a couple of times to adjust his eyes to the light, and your chest tightens at the sleepy smile he gives you, at the way his eyes seem dimmer than usual. “Hi,” he whispers.
And you’re suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion that has you blinking back tears. “Hi.” You cup his face again, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. “I missed you.”
He flashes you a grin. “Aww, no need to miss me too much, you know I can’t stay away from you.”
And you both know it’s his attempt to lighten the mood, to pretend that someday there's going to be a time when you’re not waiting up for him, when you can be at peace despite knowing his responsibilities will always take him away for days at a time, when he's not carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders—when there's not a very real possibility that someday he may not come home to you.
So you decide that today you two will pretend, and you let your tears fall, giving him a wobbly smile. “I know.”
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reblogs & comments always appreciated <3
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devildomcuties · 3 months
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When MC Climbs into Bed With Them
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🕷The Demon Brothers x gn!reader 18+
🕷wc: 1439
🕷summary: Unable to sleep, you sneak out of your bedroom into the dark, empty halls of HOL.
🕷warnings: one spank, food mention
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Lucifer
“What is it that you think you’re doing?” Lucifer’s words are soft, but annoyed as you pull the covers back to climb into his massive bed beside him.
“Sleeping,” you answer with a roll of your eyes. 
Lucifer spanks your ass sharply, “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
You hum, rolling over to face him. It’s late and he looks exhausted. His hair is ruffled and his bare chest distracts you for a moment. You’re one of the few who could ever see him not put together.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he whispers as he pulls you close, ignoring the yawn you release as you drape your leg over his hip.
“Nightmare,” you murmur as you settle into his side, melting underneath his hand as he strokes the top of your head.
“Sleep. I am here to protect you from all dangers, even those in your sleep.”
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Mammon
“Wah! What?!” Mammon is startled awake when he feels his bed dip. “Asmo, I swear if you’re trying to do my makeup in my sleep again for your Devilgram, I will end you right where you stand!”
“Ooh, so threatening,” you giggle as you get into his bed.
Mammon instantly relaxes as he turns on his side to face you. “What are you doing here, Treasure?”
“Can’t I come sleep with you when I please?” you smile as you bite back a yawn. Mammon nods, too tired to put on his ‘too cool’ facade. 
“Of course, Treasure. But you shouldn’t be roaming the halls so late at night. Call me next time and I’ll go to you.”
“Shh, sleep,” you giggle, wondering if he’s noticed you’re wearing a shirt you stole from him earlier when he was at a gig.
“And don’t think I didn’t notice you stole my shirt, you little thief,” Mammon murmurs as he falls asleep once again, pulling you close to his chest.
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Levi
“I’m sleeping!” Levi huffs as he tugs the blanket up to his chest. His computer was still whirring as it shut off, and you knew he must have just climbed into his tub.
“It’s just me, Levi, not Lucifer,” you shake your head as you tiptoe closer and make him scoot over. He does so, muttering something unintelligle.
“I couldn’t sleep,” you state as you tug the blanket from him and he groans as he makes room for you. He had stayed up 36 hours playing a new game and now he needed some rest. Levi was just realizing he hadn’t seen you much during the day and he’d missed you.
“Plus, I wanted to see you,” you whisper, feeling him go rigid before he turns to face you.
“Yo-you did?” he stutters. His cheeks are warm and pink and he hopes it’s dark enough in his room to hide them.
“Of course, I did. That pillow you gave me isn’t enough for me, Levi. I needed you,” you admit as you drape your leg over his hip and guide his hand to your waist. 
“Didn’t you miss me?” you ask as you press your forehead to his. Levi ignores the wild pounding of his heart as he locks eyes with you.
“I-I did,” he whispers, closing his eyes for a moment as his cheeks burn hotter from embarrassment. 
You don’t say anything else, simply lean forward to kiss him goodnight.
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Satan
Satan briefly looks up from his book when his bedroom door opens. The small light attached to the hardcover allows him enough light to read. 
“Go away, Mammon!” Satan huffs when nobody enters after a second. He knew Mammon liked to sneak around late at night to see what he could take to sell. Satan was still owed for his cursed book on transmutation. 
“It’s just me,” you chuckle as you close the door behind you. You head straight for his bed, climbing in beside him.
“What are you doing up so late?” Satan asks as he shuts his book. The kitty ears of his bookmark stick out from the top, and you smile warmly when you realize he uses your gift quite often.
“I couldn’t sleep. I figured you’d still be up and welcome me into your bed,” you whisper as you snuggle into his side. 
“You were correct,” Satan states as he raises his book and opens it to the page he left off. “Get comfortable.”
You do so, your head rests on his shoulder as he reads aloud. You soon drift off to the sound of his voice and Satan smiles to himself when he notes the cute way you sleep.
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Asmo
“Beel, I already told you, you can’t eat my-” Asmo blinks when he spots you. “Oh, I thought you were someone else.”
“What did Beel want to eat?” you ask curiously as you climb into bed with him. Asmo giggles as he raises the covers and you spot his matching pajamas.
“My new avocado mask,” Asmo sighs heavily. “He came in here saying I was hiding food and raided all my new skincare products. I barely stopped him from eating my mask.”
“Whoops!” you giggle as you settle in beside him. Asmo admires you for a moment, his arm draping over your waist to pull you close.
“I see you did your skin care routine for once,” he smirks as you wiggle your butt toward him. Your back meets his chest and he kisses your shoulder. “I knew you could be good for me.”
“Asmo,” you huff, but soon lose all annoyance when his hand slips under your t-shirt. 
“Shh, darling. Get some sleep.”
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Beel
Beel had his back facing the door when you opened it slowly. You figured he’d been sleeping for a while as you noted Belphie wasn’t in bed.
Carefully, you life the covers and nearly scream when Beel rolls over to face you. You thought he’d been asleep!
“What are you doing here?” he asks as he stuffs his hand in a bag of chips. 
“You scared me!” you hiss as you get into his bed, making sure there’s no crumbs beneath you. If Lucifer knew he was snacking in bed, and you knew of it, he’d have you sweeping the floors with a toothbrush.
“You’re the one in my room, Cupcake,” Beel chuckles as he eats a handful of chips. You hope he’s almost done with them because you came here to get some sleep. You had grown tired of tossing and turning in your bed. You need Beel’s large arms wrapped around you to keep your bad dreams away.
“Couldn’t sleep,” you murmur as he pats his fingers on his sweatpants. His bare chest gets your attention as he tosses the empty chip bag onto the nightstand.
“I’m here now, Cupcake,” he assures you as he pulls you close, his arm draped over your waist as he pulls you close. You nod, yawning into his broad chest as he places his nose over your head. He inahles the scent of your hair, smiling softly.
Though you couldn’t cure his insatiable hunger, you definitely dulled it. He was glad you had sought him out tonight.
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Belphie
“Levi, go away!” Belphie huffs as he hugs his pillow closer to his face. He was trying to sleep after a long day and only five naps. Levi had asked him to play some new game Belphie had no interest in and promised to cook dinner tomorrow so he could get another nap in.
“It’s just me,” you whisper as you get into bed with him. You figured he was hiding from Levi up here.
“Oh,” he responds as he opens his eyes a tiny bit. He raises the covers for you to climb in beside him. 
“Why are you up?” he asks with a yawn. His hair falls over his eyes and you gently push it away. You hadn’t seen him all day and now you realized how much you missed him. It was hard going about your day when he slept for most of it. Often you’d join him on his naps, not getting out of bed except to eat and shower, but today he’d been holed up with Levi.
“Missed you,” you admit as you replace his pillow. Belphie rests his head on your chest as you gently stroke his hair.
“I missed you, too,” he says as he blinks owlishly. He knew he should try to stay awake but he was just too tired. “Tomorrow we’ll go out. Just the two of us.”
“I’d love that,” you grin, meeting his gaze for a moment. “Sleep tight, Belphie.” 
Belphie kisses your cheek before he snuggles closer and falls asleep once again.
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©devildomcuties - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms.
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luveline · 4 months
Note
i was thinking about roommate!spencer going home after a week off working on a case and finding reader sleeping on the couch waiting for him to get home
Spencer cringes as his nails scratch the paint around the doorknob. He’s a tepid mixture of tired and sad, demotivated from another bad case, the subway home, the too many steps to the apartment. He hopes the BAU has better pay after his probation is over. He’d get a new apartment, fix up his shitty old car, maybe even get a haircut. 
For now, it’s just him, his tired feet, the threadbare couch, and you. 
You’re snoring with your face crushed to the armrest, hand tucked under your chest. You’ve started sitting and ended twisted to one side. Your back will ache when you wake up, but you’re blissfully unaware of it while you sleep. Spencer has half a mind to let you sleep undisturbed. 
He steps over your book of crosswords on the floor and the pencil waiting beside it, bending over to pat your arm. When that doesn’t rouse you, he grabs your shoulder, about to shake you awake when you sigh in your sleep, a simple, sugary sound that sends heat to his cheeks instantaneously. You’re often innocuously lovely, at least in his eyes. 
Spencer frowns and goes to make you a glass of sweet tea to wake up to. He’s secretly hoping you’ll wake up before he returns, but you’re still snoring, your face crushed, pressure on your neck. 
He wonders if you sleep on the couch often. He’s never caught you sleeping in the living room when he’s home, but this is the third time now he’s texted you that he’s coming back and walked in to find you waiting…
Are you waiting for him? 
Spencer can profile you. It doesn’t feel right, he tries not to be invasive, but he can work this out. It’s his job. 
First, the text you sent that read, Can’t wait for you to come home, I’m making chicken noodle soup for us 
Neither indicative nor exclusionary of his theory. You could mean can’t wait as the metaphor it tends to be. 
Your crossword book. Upon further inspection, he realises the pages are bent on one side, and the tent of it has landed where your hand curls toward your chest. Alright, it fell. You stayed up until you were so tired you dropped your book. 
But… you could’ve been watching TV. He turns to analyse the TV set. The standby light turns orange when it’s been left on for eight hours at a time, and you and Spencer are kind of broke, so you don’t leave anything running on purpose. You’ve never fallen asleep watching TV while he was home— 
All these reasons. 
He could just ask. He turns back to you with lips already parted, prepared to try again to wake you and slip it in casually, Shit, you weren’t waiting for me, were you? 
You’re already awake. 
Tired, you smile at him like you’re not surprised he’s kneeling at the foot of your seat. Like you’re glad he’s home. “Spencer,” you say, voice etched with the last dregs of sleep as you turn onto your side completely, giving a little wince at the stretch. 
“Hey, you okay? Why are you sleeping on the couch again?” 
You roll your eyes for what he’s not sure and reach down blindly for the crossword book by his knee, your fingertips brushing his thigh and leaving lightness in their wake. “I'm glad you’re home. Need your help, m’stuck on my puzzle.” 
“That’s what you’re sleeping here for?” 
“What?” Your eyes slip closed and then flutter open. “Mm, no, was just waiting for you to get home. How was Santa Monica?” 
Spencer has to force himself to answer around the pretzel of nerves tied in his throat, because it’s what he’d wanted, but he wasn’t ready. “It was great! I mean– I mean, it was awful, and three people died and–” He breathes in wrong. “It was fine.” 
You curl your book on the right page, blinking heavily at an unsolved row. “Oh, good. Um. Okay, ‘to carry a torch for someone’. Eight letters, not obsessed. Doesn’t fit.” 
Spencer traces the soft shudder of your lashes where they’re desperate to kiss the skin below your eye. “Besotted,” he says quietly. 
You gasp happily. “Besotted. Perfect! I missed you, genius, you always know the answer.”
He hands you your fallen pencil. “I missed you, too.” 
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satormi · 4 months
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— JJK MEN WHEN YOU CAN’T SLEEP !
a/n: reupload from my old blog. jeehjajs i need them so badly.
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NANAMI knows you’re not asleep. if there’s one thing you know most about nanami, it’s how light of a sleeper he is. that’s why, even though you’re struggling to fall asleep, you try not to twist and turn around the sheets, though that fails. it’s only when you hear him clear his throat (even though he did it on purpose just to let you know that he was awake), you decide to gently tap his shoulder. he responds immediately, shifting to his side so he can face you. “yes, baby? what’s up?” he asks, raspy voice and all. although it’s 2 am, you can perfectly make out nanami’s beautiful face with the help of the moon light, via the sheer curtains in the room. you find yourself getting lost in his beauty and it’s not until he gently grabs your hands and intertwines it with his that you finally get the courage, (or at least attempt to), speak to him about your restlessness. but he understands – he always does. “i’m not feeling that tired either,” he winks, “let me make us some tea and talk.” you want to tell him that you know he’s completely exhausted, but he’s already pushing the both of you out of bed and to the kitchen. you figured that he may not mind staying up for a bit more.
it’s not until you tap TOJI’s shoulder for the fifth time that he blinks and slowly comes to his senses. poor guy, he can hear your mumbles but he isn’t fully able to process what’s going on because of how drowsy he is. at this point, you’re staring at him with teary eyes and all toji can do is deadpan, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. “i told ya not to read the ending of that book this late y’know. if ya read it earlier, y’could’ve had more time to recover. ” he grunts. you sniff once and nod your head and all toji can do is roll his eyes as he brings you into a tight embrace. he can act irritated all he wants, but he finds it so entertaining that the book he recommended you to read really took this much of a toll on you. he read it on a business trip and thought you’d really enjoy it. boy was he wrong. “they didn’t end up being together, toji.” you wail, arms wrapping around his torso even tighter. “i know, baby. i know.” he sighs, planting a kiss on your forehead when you sniffle again. “toji, we can never break up. if i couldn’t handle the book’s break up, i won’t handle ours.” and he only chuckles, because honestly, why is this book putting thoughts like these in your head? it’s fiction, toji thinks, but then again, it’s you we’re talking about. “ya can’t get rid of me, ‘m in it for the long run, babe.”
if you can’t go to sleep, SATORU will definitely try to help or (for lack of better words) force you to go to sleep. when he feels you shuffling around, he’ll grunt before placing his body on top of yours, hugging you tightly before mumbling “sleep” in your hair. “i’ll try if you get off of me. you’re crushing me to death!” you say and he contemplates for a few seconds, but ultimately decides that you’re a really comfortable body pillow. from how he’s laying, he can feel your heart beating and your soft, steady breaths and it makes him wonder why he never thought of using you as a mattress before. “promise?” even though you nod your head, satoru can feel your smile on his collarbone which easily gives away that you’re not telling the truth. regardless, satoru still rolls off to the side and stares at the ceiling with you. “what’s bothering you,” he almost whispers, it’s soft and genuine and that alone is enough to make your heart throb at 2 am. it’s also really funny seeing his concerned look right now because he doesn’t know he’s overanalyzing the whole situation. you see, you didn’t eat dinner tonight. satoru ordered you takeout on his way home because he assumed you’d be hungry, but you weren’t, so you let him have yours.what you failed to realize though, is how hungry you’d be and now you’re facing the consequences. you finally sigh and turn your body so you’re face to face with him on the bed. “‘toru,” you bite back the laugh that wants to come out because of how serious satoru looks right now. you figured that you should tell him straight up to ease his mind of any possible negative thoughts he could be thinking. “i’m really hungry.” and gojo sighs, (you can’t tell if it’s of relief or disappointment so you choose the latter), and props his head up so his elbows are supporting him. “i am too.” “you ate your takeout and mine.” you mirror satoru’s actions, propping your elbow to get a better look at his face and he blinks at you twice. you can’t tell if he’s lying or not. “do you want food or not?” with that, you roll off the bed before stating, “i’ll get the car keys!”
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girlokwhatever · 2 months
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as a sleepy girl i would love some sleepy girl inspired smut🫣 with paige
YESS PERIOD i’m a sucker for this
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.ೃ࿐𐦍༘⋆*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆ early morning,,
paige bueckers x fem!reader
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once you feel the familiar sensation of paige’s hands on your stomach, you lean into the warmth. its welcoming and gentle, making your skin tingle wherever she leaves the ghost of her affection. she’s trying to pull you out of your slumber, her patience wearing thin.
it always does. you sleep late on the weekends and paige can’t stand it. she has to wait for you and never lasts very long in her attempts of letting you sleep.
even though it’s only 8 am, she doesn’t think she can wait any longer.
the air around you is cold, encouraging you to seek comfort in your girlfriend. you’re turning over onto your back, craning your neck in her direction and entangling your legs together. you’re easily able to admire her beauty from your position below her, taking note of her wavy golden hair. her aura brightens the room, a white light glowing around you and you feel it in your soul.
she’s admiring you too; your skin is glowing and you look radiant. you whine at the sun hitting your eyes and it makes her stomach flutter with the memories of last night.
you under her, legs spread and thighs glistening. she swears your pussy is speaking to her, begging for attention. so wet you’re dripping down onto the blanket under you. you were whining because she just kept looking instead of addressing your needs. she had you practically grinding into the bed. every little sound you made drove her crazy, sending her mind into a frenzy.
this morning was no different. she feels you open your legs from under the covers, stretching out the morning stiffness. if she had a dick, paige is absolutely certain she’d have morning wood.
she slots her bare knee between your legs. once it connects, you’re letting out a whimper and gripping her arm. she feels the dampness between your legs and knows you’re wet too. your girlfriend relishes in the way your heat feels against her, your slick making a mark on her knee.
“mornin’ sleeping beauty,”
your lips connect, working together in a serene unison. it lacks any rush, just the pure and sultry intimacy of your love clashing together. you’re getting drunk on the feeling, not even fully awake yet. you can hardly breathe, pulling away to gather yourself. the arousal you both feel floats in the room, suffocating both of you.
her head is buried in your neck now, peppering soft kisses as she reaches her hand into your underwear. she immediately finds your throbbing nub, lightly pinching and massaging it. you choke on a moan at her ministrations, letting your eyes flutter open before you’re quickly shutting them again.
paige gathers your slick and admires the way she can lubricate her hand with it, gliding it over your own skin. she’s moaning into your skin as she gently pushes her finger into you. you’re squeezing her so nice and she’s only half-way in, your core yearning for her.
she goes slow, knowing you’re still sleepy and tired from last night’s activities. your girlfriend doesn’t mind though, appreciating the lovingness of it all. she feels like one harsh moment might shatter you into a million pieces.
“s’pretty baby, can’t get enough.” she glides a second finger in and out of you, the silence of the morning being interrupted by the sounds of your wetness. you’re nodding at her words, already too blissed out.
“can i taste you baby? you want me to?” you’re moaning out a ‘please’ and she’s up on her knees, kissing all of your skin. she’s making her way down to breakfast, sucking little hickeys on your hip and stomach.
now she’s on her own stomach, hand up your shirt and your legs on her shoulders, wrapping slightly around her head. her free hand pushes your panties to the side and spreads you open, snaking around your thigh with a ghost-like touch. she’s so soft, fingers gliding over and toying gently with your nipples while she wraps her lips around your clit. your back arches off the bed with a whispered praise that she doesn’t hear. you taste so good her ears ring and her vision blurs, only able to focus on the feeling of you in her mouth. your arousal is sticky on her chin but she doesn’t notice that either, only focused on the task at hand.
she wants to make sure you’re fully satisfied so she pulls away from your clit and prods her tongue gently against your entrance. you’re practically a waterfall at this point, your wetness gushing onto her tongue. she appreciates it all, pride swelling her heart and ego when she realizes she’s the reason.
your hand travels down to your clit and draws feather light circles. she thinks it might be the hottest thing ever, only encouraging her to push her tongue deeper against your walls. she’s searching for the spongey texture of your g-spot and she knows she’s found it when you creen off the bed. you’re breathing deep in your sleepy haze, skin glowing from the sticky sweat in the sunlight of the morning.
she hears your breathless whimper about how close you are and it motivates her to massage her tongue against you just the way you like, wanting to hear your moans as you finish. you’re teetering on the edge of blissful release, one last pinch to your nipple, one last finger circling on your clit, one last tongue curl and you’re falling into the feeling. your hips twitch against paige’s face as she cleans away your slick.
once she sits back up you notice it all over her mouth and chin, her face glistening in the light. she’s smiling big and rubbing your thighs, her day off to a great start. she leans up to kiss you after realizing she’s only done it once today, but you’re turning away and groaning.
“gross. go wash your face.”
“why would i wash it off. that’s like throwing out leftovers.”
“ew paige!” you’re lightly slapping her wrist. you both have a slight groggy morning voice and after being satisfied so well, you can already feel yourself drifting back to sleep.
“‘m going back to sleep,” voice muffled by the pillow, paige hardly understands you. but after all her work, after knowing she’s satisfied you, she also welcomes the idea of sleep.
she wipes her face off and quickly joins you again, pulling you on top of her. after a few minutes, your soft breath on her neck coaxes her into a light sleep. your limbs are tangled, wrapped around each other for extra warmth and comfort. your skin is soft against hers and she wishes she could absorb you into her own skin, never wanting to be away from you.
paige realizes she’s never been happier than she is whenever she’s with you.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺₊⊹
period 😘😘😘😘😜
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piichuu · 1 year
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♡ SLEEPING ON THE COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT
ft. mikage reo, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi
gn!reader, fluff
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MIKAGE REO
he’s quietly sitting on the edge of the couch, his eyes not leaving your sleeping figure as a few tears roll down his cheeks. never has he wanted to apologize for something he’s done as much as he wants to now. he wants to put his arms around you and pull you in for the warmest hug he can give while chanting apologies so you’ll understand that he never meant to yell at you. he will never forget the look on your face when it just broke for him, your widened eyes as you almost looked scared. he can never forgive himself for that.
reo holds your hand lightly as the tears increase and he has to look away for a few seconds as to not cry more. why did he have to act like this? why did the fight have to escalate to that level as to where he yelled at you? it was his fault, all his fault. you had simply just told him that his father came over earlier to talk about the family business and just after mentioning the name of his dad, reo had become mad. it was never your fault.
suddenly, he can feel a pair of arms wrapping around his waist and when he turns his head, he sees that it’s you who’s now awake, hugging him close. seeing this causes his heart to shatter and he can’t help but sob while pulling you into his chest, never wanting to let you go. “i’m so, so sorry. i shouldn’t have gotten mad, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” he speaks and you look up at him with those twinkling eyes of yours, instantly helping him calm down.
“i know you don’t like that your dad keeps talking about the family business with you and i should’ve told you when i knew you weren’t already feeling stressed from football practice,” you mumble but he shakes his head and cups your cheeks. “don’t even try to make it sound like it’s your fault. it’s mine and i’m sorry, i won’t ever act like that ever again, i promise. you’re too nice to me, way too nice and i don’t know what i did to deserve you.”
you smile softly and shuffle closer to him so you’re sitting in his lap, your faces now being at the same level. “let’s just get some sleep and talk about it tomorrow, you must be tired,” you say and he nods, too tired to move further away from the couch as he just lays down on his back with you in his arms. “i’ll make it up to you, i promise. we’ll cuddle as much as you want tomorrow and i’ll cook you every single meal, that’s what you deserve, if not more.”
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ITOSHI RIN
he’s looking at you from afar as you’re laying on the couch, trying to sleep. he knows you can’t though, not when he isn’t there to hold you in his arms and keep you safe from any possible danger. he knows that if he just went to bed and fell asleep, you’d eventually come back and lay down beside him, but rin knows that he can’t sleep without you either. no matter for how many hours he tried, nothing worked. looking at old pictures he’s taken of you didn’t help either, nothing but having you in his arms can help.
his mind is fogged with your previous fight that wasn’t a big one to begin with, but you began to find reasons to keep being angry at each other and even though it didn’t escalate into anything bad, you still decided that you didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as him. you had just started to ignore each other as the fight was over, both of you wanting to know who would apologize first even though you were both dying to just hold each other and say sorry.
rin sighs as he walks towards the couch and makes his presence known by stroking your head. you immediately turn to look at him, not knowing whether you should just jump into his arms and allow him to carry you to the bedroom or if you should stay mad. but how could you stay mad when he has actually went as far as to make it known that he can’t sleep without you. he didn’t have to utter a word, but it’s simple to understand as he’s looking down at you with dark circles under his eyes and his hair a complete mess after tossing and turning for hours.
“will you stop being stubborn and come back to bed?” he asks while looking away from you, not wanting to see the possible smile that might creep up on your lips when hearing him ask for you to join him in bed. but you have no reason to make fun of him when you have missed him just as much as he has missed you. so you stand up from the couch and take his hand, allowing him to lead you into your shared bedroom.
you climb under the covers with him and without saying a word, he turns so he’s laying on his side and puts an arm over your waist just like he always does, just to feel you in some way. he has to touch you and your waist is the best option tonight, just so he can discreetly pull you closer if he’d want. “you really do love me,” you whisper and he rolls his eyes before closing his eyes. “shut up, you already know i do.”
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ITOSHI SAE
he’s in bed, staring up at the ceiling as you still haven’t joined him. you’re in the living room, on the couch after the two of you were yelling at each other just two hours ago. he usually never raised his voice at you, but both of you had long and tiring days and after you had asked him if he really had to go on this next trip, all his frustrations broke through and when he yelled at you, everything you’d kept in throughout the day spilled out as well.
itoshi sae barely ever admits if he’s wrong, but he’s aware that he had no reason to yell at you when you just asked him a simple question. none of you enjoy that he has to leave for football matches again, so you had hoped this trip wouldn’t be as important, he wouldn’t play these games as he was injured only a few weeks ago, but he still had to go, no matter if he wanted to or not.
he sighs, but before he can get out of bed, the door to the bedroom opens and your shadowy figure can be seen in the doorway. you’re looking down towards the floor and don’t say a word as you lay down beside him and get under the covers, turning to your side so your back is facing him. “i’m sorry,” you mumble while closing your eyes, wanting to finally fall asleep which you couldn’t do when you were on the couch.
“me too,” sae whispers before shuffling closer to you, placing a kiss to your cheek before rubbing your hip. “i shouldn’t have yelled. it’s not your fault i have to leave, i do wish i could stay here with you, i promise i do,” you nod and turn around so the two of you are now facing each other. he puts a hand on your cheek and strokes it with the pad of his thumb. “i don’t wanna fight, i know it’s my fault, but i just wanna spend as much time with you as possible before i have to leave.”
you bury your face into his chest and wrap your arms around him. “we can just stay here forever,” he chuckles lightly and kisses the top of your head. “that sounds good, darling. let’s do that.”
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NAGI SEISHIRO
he doesn’t say a word as he comes into the living room. he didn’t expect for you to sleep on the couch, even if you got mad earlier. you had a long and tiring day at work, nagi was at home the entire day and before you left in the morning, you had asked for him to clean the dishes he left in the sink last night when he had been playing video games. when you then came home eight hours later to find the dishes still in the sink, that was all you needed to break.
never have you raised your voice as much as you did when walking into his room, asking him why he couldn’t do something as simple as washing the dishes. he didn’t have an explanation, only that he had been playing games all day and forgot, but he knew that it wasn’t a good reason. he knew work can become a lot and he quickly realized that he should’ve just done that simple thing you asked for instead of playing games. so now, he’s walking towards the couch and lies down beside you where there’s still some space.
as you still haven’t fallen asleep, you turn to see his face just as he puts an arm around your waist and pulls you close. “‘m sorry for not cleaning up in the sink, i know you always have so much to do and i’m sorry for not doing something so simple,” he mumbles while burying his face into the crook of your neck. “just…don’t go to sleep without me again. it’s such a hassle to sleep out here on the couch, it’s better if we cuddle in bed instead.”
you smile softly and wrap your arms around him, having missed cuddling after such an exhausting day. he places a kiss to your neck and hums. “but we can sleep here for the night, don’t wanna move, but tomorrow we sleep in our bed,” he says and you nod, closing your eyes as you’re finally back in the comfort of his arms. “thank you, sei. i love you.” “i love you too.”
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ISAGI YOICHI
he frowns as he comes out from the bathroom, noticing that you’ve made a bed for yourself on the couch. no matter what, he won’t allow you to sleep somewhere else that isn’t with him, he can’t be without you and he’s aware you’ll struggle just as much if you decide to sleep on the couch.
isagi steps into the bedroom where you’re currently changing into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. “baby, i know you’re still mad, but please don’t sleep on the couch,” he says while reaching for your hand. he had been gone almost the entire day together with his friends. it was his free day and even though the two of you had planned a movie night together, he forgot. you had looked forward to it the entire week as he was constantly busy, so you couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he had actually forgotten.
you sigh as you turn around to face him. perhaps you overreacted for actually wanting to sleep on the couch instead of solving it. “i’m sorry for forgetting about movie night. i was really excited for it was well but i got so carried away with my friends, but i do promise that we can have one tomorrow, i’ll be free then as well so we can just spend the entire day together,” he squeezes your hand and leans his forehead against yours. “i’m sorry, i promise i will better myself, i won’t ever forget again.”
you wrap your arms around him. “i know you’ve been busy and must have many things to think about, so i’m sorry for overreacting. i’m happy you’re here now at least,” you mumble and he brushes his fingers through your hair, placing a kiss to the bridge of your nose. “let’s just go to sleep and we’ll be together all day tomorrow, i’ll make it up to you,” isagi whispers before leaning down to press his lips to yours. “i love you.”
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soobnny · 1 year
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one more month — bang chan. established relationship. fluff. chan missing you while he’s on tour. (0.6k words)
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“Chan?”
It’s 11pm for you when he calls from his hotel room, somewhere oceans away. There’s still sleep dripping from your tone, and he can almost hear the rustling of sheets from your end.
“Sorry baby, did I wake you?” Chan speaks so quietly it’s almost a whisper. He was careful not to shake you out of your silence.
“Mmm, no.” You croak out.
He knows you’re lying, could almost picture you jolting from your sleep at the familiar buzz of your ringtone. The thought makes him swallow, teeth chewing on his bottom lip.
“Is there a reason why you’re calling?”
He pauses before answering. Chan has no idea how the fuck he’s feeling right now, but he knows he misses you.
It’s been 4 months since he last saw you. All he has are pictures of you in his phone, and occasional phone calls that will never suffice to the way you sound in person. To the way you feel in person.
Chan stares out the big fucking window from where they’re staying, finding comfort in the thought that you might be looking at the same moon.
He swallows again. “Does there have to be a reason?”
“Of course not.”
“Just miss you.” He breathes out slowly, head tilted on the glass windows. “And I wish— we didn’t have to be so far away all the time.”
He’s thinking of you, imagining how you look right now with tired eyes. He’s thinking of what it would be like if he was there right now. You’d probably be asleep, tangled up in each other’s limbs. It would look uncomfortable from an outsider’s eye, but he knows. Knows how it feels to have your heartbeat pressed against his and how nice it feels.
You sigh. “One more month.”
The tone in your voice is gentle, yet knowing. He knows you miss him too.
“For now, you need to sleep, no?”
It’s 3 in the morning for him, and he’ll have to be awake again in three hours.
“Can’t.” He bites his lip, swallowing hard as he tries to fight the sob brewing in his throat. Your heart clenches at the way he sounds, knows that when he feels, he lets it take over him.
“Will you be able to sleep if I stay on the phone?”
“Maybe.” Shaky.
“Okay. Have the kids been treating you well?”
A smile pulls at his lips at the mention of his best friends, and the topic change does a good job at masking the nauseating pain of missing you. A bandaid. A temporary fix.
“Still loud and stubborn, but I wouldn’t want them any other way.”
“Hmmm, I won’t be surprised if you come home with a head of white hair.”
He laughs at the thought, running a hand through his hair. “I think I’m already starting.”
“Then Seungmin calling you an old man is justifiable, then?”
“I don’t think I like you teaming up with the boys against me. You’ve signed up on my team the moment you said yes to being mine.”
You laugh from your end, and Chan’s heart flutters at the sound. He can almost see you with your crescent eyes and the cute scrunch on your nose, the one you do when you cackle.
He tries not to think about it too much. Tries not to picture himself right there with you. He knows it’d only rip the bandaid he’d desperately plastered on himself.
“Not sleepy yet?”
“Just a little.” He admits quietly, a yawn escaping his mouth.
There’s stifling from his end, and you can only assume he’s slipped himself back into the covers of his bed.
You keep telling him stories, no matter how menial, anything to keep him company. You know he just needs to hear your voice, has told you before how simply hearing you comforts him—it’s a calm only you can offer.
Chan breathes in and out slowly.
It’s four in the morning now, and there’s quiet snoring in the background.
“Goodnight Channie. One more month.”
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berryhobii · 18 days
Text
Thinking about bf!Mingyu who will totally let you use him however you want, no matter the time of day or the location.
He could be dead tired after a flight and while he’s normally a light sleeper, exhaustion will just lay too heavily on his brain and send him into a deep sleep.
You were happy to have him back home after a few weeks apart, your own idol schedule keeping you busy but when everything calmed down, all you could think about was your precious boyfriend. He had recently returned from a visit with his parents and you were so incredibly happy for him. You know how much he misses them and it warmed your heart to hear about all his stories when he returned. He was practically beaming with happiness.
Your precious baby was just so adorable. You two had spent the entire day lost in your own little world; cooking, cuddling, and talking about everything you haven’t been able to.
He had chatted with you until he eventually fell asleep, the jet lag finally catching up with him and his gentle voice trailing off as he was swept into dreamland by your tender caress and soft lips pressing against his cheeks.
Little did he know, you’ve been slowly losing your mind for the past 15 minutes because of a wet dream that just startled you awake. You were sweating despite the cool AC, your heart pounding, and the heat between your legs too hot to ignore.
You and Mingyu had a really healthy sex life. Well, as healthy as it could get with your conflicting schedules but there was no denying how attracted you two were to each other. You could just look at him for a few seconds and you’d be ready to go at it. It also didn’t help that Mingyu kept slapping your ass whenever he’d walk by you or that he recently returned to his natural hair color which you’ve vocalized multiple times as your favorite. And it really didn’t help that he’s been walking around shirtless the entire day, feeding your eyes with his flat tummy and broad shoulders.
You could barely keep your hands off him today but you also didn’t want to ruin the sweet moment so you held back from jumping his bones.
And now you’re wide awake and silently wishing for relief.
The room was pitch black since that’s how you preferred to sleep so you slapped around your bedside table for your phone, squinting as the light burned your eyes a little.
3:14AM
Neither of you had a schedule tomorrow so you were planning on just spending that time together as well so you wouldn’t be wrong for waking him up, right? And sex would put him back to sleep and help him sleep better, right? You’re pretty sure that’s one of Newton’s Laws and science is science so….
Turning on your bedside lamp to a low light, you rolled over to appreciate your boyfriend who was resting on his back; his fluffy hair splayed out over his pillow, one of his buff arms laying by his head while the other rested on his tummy, and his plump lips opened slightly as he slept.
You almost hated to wake him up.
Almost.
“Gyu…” You whispered, fully expecting him to immediately wake up since he was such a light sleeper. You shouldn’t be surprised though. He always slept like this after a long schedule or plane ride.
You tapped his shoulder lightly, calling his name again. His eyebrows furrowed a little but he still didn’t wake up.
“Mingyu, wake up.” Then with another tap, his face scrunched up before his lashes fluttered; his eyes opened a little but closed again at the light of your lamp.
A soft, hmm?, came from him and your heart could have melted if all the heat in your body wasn’t currently focused in your nether regions.
“I’m sorry I woke you but….”
“What’s wrong, angel?”
Oof, you think you just fell deeper in love with him. Pet names were a secret turn on of yours. Mingyu normally just called you by your name or nickname which was fine but cutesy pet names were your favorite.
Now take that combined with his raspy sleepy voice? It was like a shock right to your cunt.
Swallowing thickly, you said, “I can’t sleep. I need…..you.”
He let out a sleepy sigh and nodded his head, groaning as he stretched out his weary body. He was about to lift up but you stopped him, his skin feeling cool under your hand.
“No no, baby. I’ll do the work.” Accepting his fate, he flopped back down on the bed. You leaned over him, rubbing your nose against his. “Thanks, baby. Sorry to wake you.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
Pressing a few pecks to his lips, your hand trailed down to reach into his pants, gasping when you felt his cock that was halfway hard.
You breathed out a little laugh. “Excited already?”
“Always for you.”
Humming, you kissed him once more before moving down until you were perpendicular to his body, your knees tucked under yourself. He helped you tug his shorts halfway down until they rested at his thighs. Just enough to reveal his hardening cock.
Gripping him lightly, you leaned forward to lick a long stripe up his shaft. You heard him sigh and felt his hand start to rub up and down your back, a comforting touch that made your heart flutter.
Holding him steady, you took his cock into your mouth, relaxing your throat so you could take him all the way down. Mingyu’s cock was bigger than anything you’ve ever had before so you’ve had to work extra hard over the years just to be able to take it. His leg twitched a little, his soothing hand on your back halting for a moment before restarting.
Since you weren’t planning on getting him to cum from head, you decided to go easy and just rile him up enough to get him to full hardness which didn’t take very long at all.
Pulling off of him, you wiped your mouth before rising to wiggle your own shorts off. Neither of you slept in with underwear on which just made this kind of sex 10 times easier.
You climbed on top of him, your knees on either side of his waist. His hands gravitated to your thighs, squeezing the fat there lightly.
“Do you need help?” He asked to which you shook your head.
“I don’t think I’ll last long anyway.” You replied as you leaned forward to press your chest against his. You reached under yourself to grab his cock and lined it up with your dripping heat.
Mingyu groaned at the feeling of you running the head of his cock up and down your wet folds. “How are you this wet already?” He moved his hands to your ass, spreading your cheeks to give you better access.
“I’ve been wanting your cock all day.” You admitted, gasping when the thick head slipped into your tight hole. Mingyu kept you spread open as you slid down his impressive girth, the thickness splitting you open and knocking the air out of you when it was completely inside.
“Shit, hurry up baby.” He cursed, pulling his lip between his teeth as he tried to hold back from fucking up into you. Although you wouldn’t complain if he did.
Adjusting your knees and rising up to lean your hands on either side of his head, you began throwing your ass back on him. Each drag made the curve in his cock rub against your sweet spot, your sopping walls already making noises that was like a direct rush of endorphins to his brain.
His hands gripped you tighter, helping you move against him.
You moaned. “F-fuck, Gyu. Feels so good. Gonna cum.”
One of his arms wrapped around your back to pull you down, the other still keeping you spread as he began snapping his hips up to meet you. Each stroke felt deeper than the last, your tummy burning with need. The feeling of your cunt wrapped around him had woken him up even more, the need to bury himself in your dripping walls overpowering his need for sleep.
Your nails dug into his shoulders, your mouth dropped open as he delivered mind numbing strokes, the clap of your ass against his pelvis m loud in the darkness of the room.
“Don’t stop—oh shit! I’m bout to cum!” You babbled, calls of his name and more pleads of him not to stop falling from your lips as hot pleasure courses down your spine.
He holds you close, breath ragged against your throat and a needy whine coming from him as your walls clenched around him incredibly tight.
A few more well placed thrusts and your brain is temporarily short circuiting as an orgasm engulfs that leaves your ears ringing and vision blanking out for a moment. You don’t stop moving your hips against him, your body shuddering as you continue to chase that residual pleasure.
Mingyu was right behind you, forcing your hips down so that he could bury himself all the way to the hilt, moaning your name as he shot hot ropes of his cum into your spasming walls.
Chests heaving, you lifted up a bit to capture his lips in a kiss. He relaxed against the mattress, melting into your affection and exhaustion trying to take him back to dreamland.
“Thank you baby.” You murmured against his lips, his hands running up your shirt to feel your skin.
“Anytime.” He hummed, ready to fall back asleep but he was jolted awake when he felt your walls tighten around him. He hissed as your hips began to move again.
“One more time?”
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kiss-inthekitchen · 2 months
Text
favorite insomniac | spencer reid
a little warm-up exercise i just finished <3 you can't sleep, so you decide to call the only other person you know who would be awake at this hour. ~500 words
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You don’t get insomnia. Usually, you fall asleep quickly and easily, and then devolve into any number of nightmares or vivid dreams or somethings that cause to you wake up feeling like you hadn’t slept at all. 
Obviously not great. But not insomnia.
Tonight, however, is not a usual night.
You roll over once again, after what feels like hours but is probably only twenty minutes of lying as still as possible and trying to will your body to be tired. You check the time on your phone; 3:14 AM. 
Ugh. You have to be at work in less than 6 hours, awake in less than 5. Closer to 4, if you want to actually look presentable. 
You groan, scrubbing your hands over your face and barely resisting the urge to start punching your pillows. 
And then you give up. 
There’s one insomniac you know who’s got a pretty good chance of being awake right now. You've dialed the number before you can even think about it. The line rings once, and you realize what an inappropriate, quite possibly disrespectful choice this had been. You’re about to hang up, hovering over the red button, when you hear him. 
“Hey,” he says, voice raspy. 
Oh god, oh god. “Please tell me I didn’t wake you up.” 
“No,” Spencer chuckles bitterly, “You didn’t. What’s wrong?” 
“I can’t sleep?” 
His eyebrows raise halfway to his hairline. “So you called me?” 
You and Spencer are coworkers. You’re friends. You just don’t really hang out much outside of work and work-related events. Not that you haven’t wanted to, you just… don’t really know how. Or if you should. Or if it would be particularly smart. 
“I’m so sorry. I figured if anyone was liable to be awake right now, it’d be… I wasn’t thinking. I’ll let you go, I’m–” 
“Hey, it’s alright,” he says, amused. You’re the only person he ever gets the opportunity to calm down; he’s usually the most nervous person in the room. “This doesn’t usually happen to you though, does it?” 
“No,” you huff, flopping back against your pillows. “I’d ask you for tips, but whatever you’re doing clearly isn’t working.” 
“That’s nice.” 
“Am I wrong?” 
“No, you’re not wrong.” 
You make a self-satisfied little “hmph” sound. 
“What did you call me for then?” 
Something in the timbre of his voice makes your heart speed up. “I don’t know, human connection across the ether that is 3 AM?” The sense that you’re the only two people in the universe. The sound of his voice. Not that you could say that part out loud.
“Wanna go for a drive?”
Huh? “Wh– We have work in, like, 5 hours.” 
“Oh, you haven’t been counting, have you?”
“You mean like thinking ‘if I fall asleep right now at this moment I could get 5 hours of sleep’ but then I still don’t fall asleep and I watch the minutes go by until it’s only 4 and a half hours and then I get angry at myself for being awake and then I’m somehow even more awake?” 
He chuckles, dark and rich through the phone. “The classic trap. Never count the hours.” 
“Now you tell me.” 
“Alright,” he grunts, and you hear him shuffling around, “I’m picking you up.”
“You're what?!"
"I'm picking you up," his voice lilts up, almost like a question. But not like he's asking for permission, more like he's teasing you. Like he knows your answer anyway.
"Now? You have a car?” 
“Yes, now. And yes, I have a car,” you hear jingling on the other end. “You’re gonna like it.”
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darylssunshine · 24 days
Text
I need ya.
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Summary: Daryl helps you fall asleep after trying to fight it.
Genre: Fluff
Word count: 0.7k
Era: Alexandria
A/N: I just really want Daryl cuddles and to fall asleep with him. This is purely self-indulgent.
~~~~~
It was a rare moment of peace in Alexandria. All of the residents were either safe in their houses or fast asleep in their warm beds, a luxury in a world like this. No walkers were breaking through their fortified walls, no enemies were hot on their trail and waiting to strike until morning, nothing coming through the gates to disrupt the silence. The people of Alexandria made themselves known to Rick’s group in a moment of weakness. They accepted them and let them adapt to their way of living, and Rick and the rest of the group would be forever grateful for that, no matter how long it took for them to trust the other group. These four walls separating them from the cruel outside world and provided them with a sense of safety, and Alexandria’s inhabitants had to bask in that whenever they had the chance. 
That’s what was happening now, in the house that held you and Daryl. While the autumn winds pressed on, you two were shielded and warm. A crackling fire lit up the living room while Daryl sat in the corner of the slightly tattered couch, you on his lap. His arm was resting on the subsequent arm of the couch while the other hand was playing with your hair, twirling the strands in his fingertips and occasionally scratching your scalp. Each time he did, it earned a small sigh from you nuzzled against his chest, and then earning a small chuckle from Daryl.
Today had been one of those days where Daryl got more sleep than you did. You had work that had to be done with stocking the food on account of falling behind the day before, and you were beat. The warmth of the fire combined with the warmth radiating from Daryl’s torso was slowly lulling you into a tired state, but Daryl didn’t need to know that. You wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. 
“Ya gettin’ tired, sweetheart?”
Shit.
Immediately after those words registered in your sleep-addled brain, you sat up and looked Daryl in the eyes, your own being forcefully widened so he believed your ruse. “Nope. Nope. Not one bit.”
Daryl removed the hand that was previously on your hair and moved it behind his head, slightly looking down on you. He chuckled again. “Ya sure?”
Your mouth quirked up in a smile. “Yep. Wide awake.”
“Mhm. Sure ya are.”
He placed his hand back on your scalp and started massaging it at a slow but consistent pace, his soft, blue eyes never leaving yours. Your eyes on the other hand started to get very heavy, like someone was physically pulling them down, something you couldn’t control. Daryl let out a deep chuckle. “What was tha’ about not bein’ tired?
“Shut up.” You said in a breathy manner, stubbornly still trying to look him in the eyes.
His large hand guided you to his chest again. “Get some sleep, sunshine. I’ll be here when ya wake up. Promise.” His voice was soft, but sincere. You’d believe anything he said in this state.
You nuzzled back into his chest, his words making you smile. “Your chest vibrates when you talk. It’s like a cat purring.” You rambled, your voice coated with tiredness. You said it unconsciously, your filter being almost nonexistent with you being on the verge of sleep. 
He smirked. “Oh yeah? You like it?”
“Mhm.”
“Want me to keep talkin’?”
“Mhm.”
He sighed before he continued. “Back before we found ya, I was nothin’. I was tryin’ to deal with all the shit that went down, but I didn’t handle it well. I was a mess, killin’ myself in the process. But you helped me deal with all that. You got me to open up to ya. Every time I see ya, I get like, this feelin’ in my stomach. I know, romance movie bullshit. It’s been happenin’ since the day we found ya in that cabin. And now, I feel like I can’t live without ya. I feel like I’m empty without you, fightin’ by my side. And I’m scared ‘cause that’s never happened before, and I don’t wanna mess it up. I need ya- I- I love ya, (Y/N.)” 
Daryl then heard a soft snore come from below his head. 
He blew some air through his nose in an amused manner and kissed you on the top of the head. “I'll always be there for ya, sunshine.”
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atomicami · 8 months
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cami would you write a sub abby? like maybe where she needs your help to get off?🤭🩷
my sweet dani, that mind of yours truly is incredible…i wrote this one just for you querida 🤍
close call
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contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader
- summary: it’s the night before the annual bake sale, and abby needs your touch now more than ever.
- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, contractor/engineer!abby, texas living, no sarah, joel & jerry are still alive (jerry is not a doctor in this), reader has a business degree, abby gets needy, sneaking out, oral & fingering (a!receiving), masturbation (r), abby whimpering and begging?? and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything
- author’s note: well if i’m being honest i really did not expect to be writing another contractor!abby fic so soon, but this request gives so much desperate contractor!abby energy that i just had to do it. however i do have to clarify that this is not a part 3. i’ve stated this before in one of my asks, but part 3 is going to be more about the bake sale…this is just more of a little bonus chapter i guess.
anyways, this one’s for you dani, and for all of my contractor!abby fans out there that need a little pick me up rn. i hope y’all enjoy it 🫶🏻
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You didn’t expect to be doing it again so soon.
After you had snuck your way out of work to go see Abby at her father’s contracting site, you have to admit that the rest of this week flew by surprisingly fast for you.
You had been keeping yourself occupied in the meantime, between doing customer calls at work and preparing for the bake sale, you’ve been quite patient with yourself and didn’t feel the need to have to sneak out again until the next time you’d plan to see Abby. It was almost as if you simply had just been sick that day, and Abby’s touch was the remedy that cured you.
Although…there might be a feeling that you’ve jinxed yourself in saying so when you receive a phone call the night before.
You spent the morning on your work shift as usual, and your dad was generous enough to let you go before lunchtime so you could start baking for the sale tomorrow. After spending the rest of your day prepping, mixing, baking, and decorating, you were left with a variety of fresh pastries by sundown, ready to sell the next morning.
By the time you finished cleaning up the kitchen and getting ready for bed, the clock struck 10 p.m. Normally you’d stay up a little longer, but after the exhausting day you’ve had today, you genuinely needed to rest for tomorrow. You had to be downtown by 7 a.m. to set up at the farmer’s market for the bake sale. Given how weary you were, it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.
However, you were only able to get a few hours of sleep in before your phone began to ring.
The sound of your ringtone startles you awake. Letting out a tired groan, you muster up the energy to reach over to your nightstand to turn on your light and pick up your phone to see who was calling you.
“Abby?” you whisper to yourself, rubbing your eyes to get a better look at the screen. Once you do, the phone call disappears and your lock screen shows with the missed notification, giving you a chance to look at the time.
It was barely past 1 a.m. Why the hell was she calling you this late?
Her contact name shows up once again in a second call, and this time you swipe to answer.
“Abby…what is it?” you answer groggily to her.
“Hey…are you awake?” she asks shyly.
You roll your eyes before responding. “I am now.”
“Look, I’m sorry if I did wake you up, but I really need you right now…”
Her words start to replay in your head. The tone she had in her voice…she didn’t sound like her usual, cocky self. She sounded desperate…kind of like how you were the last time you saw her.
“Abby, it’s one in the morning…what is it that can’t wait until later?”
You knew what she was asking for, you just needed to make her say it. Kind of like how she made you tell her last time.
“I um…I can’t get myself off,” she muttered back. It was quiet, but not quiet enough to where you couldn’t hear her.
You simply nod, soon remembering that she couldn’t see you right now. “Alright, um…do you have your boxers on, then?”
“No—I mean, yes I do, but I don’t mean this…I need you to come over.”
You scoff at her through the phone. She truly can’t be serious. Having to do this over the phone would already be difficult enough for you. But to sneak yourself out in the middle of the night to do so? It was going to be too much.
“Abby, you can’t be serious right now—“
“Come on, baby, don’t be like that…My dad isn’t even home right now, please?”
“Okay, but my dad is.” You reply to her instantly. “There’s no way I’m gonna be able to get out of my house without waking him up.”
You keep trying to tell her that it’s not going to work out, but Abby continues to beg about it. As much as you wanted to, it clearly wasn't the right time to do so. But eventually, you just had to give in.
“Okay, fine! I’ll come over…” you said, quickly lowering your voice down. “Just…just give me five minutes.”
After hanging up the phone, you get up from your bed, taking the time to stretch in the process. Grabbing the first pair of shoes you find, you quickly slip them on before grabbing your phone and keys and exiting your room.
Once you’ve shut the door, you begin to tiptoe down the hall as to not wake up your father. The door of Joel’s bedroom was slightly cracked open, and you could see that he was fast asleep. You quietly pass by his bedroom and make your way down the stairs, praying that the wood doesn't start creaking from the weight of your footsteps.
Before you know it, you’ve successfully made it out the door, and you begin to cross the street to Abby’s place. Once you’ve made it to her front door, your phone buzzes again.
“Abby: there’s a spare key under the mat.”
Jesus. The least she could’ve done was to have let you in her own house, especially since you had to do most of the work sneaking yourself out.
You reach down and slide your hand under the doormat, quickly finding the key that was hidden underneath before unlocking the door and letting yourself in. It’s the first time you’ve been inside Abby’s house, and you’re not bothered to even get a good look at it, you just needed to find her right now.
After wandering throughout her house for what feels like forever, you finally find her bedroom. Not even bothering to knock, you simply walk in to see Abby lying in the center of her bed, her long blonde locks draped over her shoulders, and her muscle tank covering her top half while the rest of her body was covered with her duvet from the waist down.
“Hey,” she pants out, propping herself up on her bed to get a better look at you. “I’m so sorry I had to—“
“Sit up,” you tell her, cutting off her sentence.
“What?”
“You heard me. Sit up.”
You then walk your way over to the left side of her bed and kneel on the ground, causing Abby to scramble around and sit up from her bed. Once you’re settled on the ground, she’s got her legs hanging off the bed, and you can see that she doesn’t have anything on underneath.
“Thought you said you had your boxers on,” you told her.
“I-I did…I just couldn’t wait for you to get here…” she replies, looking away from you as she does so.
“And you say I’m the needy one…” you mutter to yourself. You then spread Abby’s legs open, revealing her pussy to you. Despite how truly annoyed you were that she made you have to sneak out in the middle of the night, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to be touching her like this right now…because your mouth was practically watering at the sight of her wet pussy.
Without hesitation, you insert two of your fingers inside her. Her body jerks back for a moment at the sudden touch, before soon settling down, letting her pussy relax around your fingers.
It seemed like Abby was trying to compose herself right now because you could hear how hard she was trying to hold back her whimpers and whines as you kept slowly pumping your fingers in and out of her.
“M-More…” she whispers out to you, trying her best to not sound needy.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” You asked, eyes still fixated on her pussy.
“I-I need more, please…” she responds, her voice just a little louder this time.
You look up at her as your fingers continue to move inside her pussy, your movements not stopping as you maintained eye contact with her. “I’m gonna need you to be more specific than that, Abigail, or else I’m not giving you what you want,” you tell her sternly.
You can easily see her trying to hold back her frustration right now, and you were honestly enjoying it. The fact that you’ve put her in this state of submission outside of her usual cocky persona truly has you beaming with pride.
“I—fuck—I need your mouth, p-please…” she whines out to you, hands gripping onto the sheets as your fingers curl into her g spot.
“See, there you go…That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” you tease back at her before leaning in and attaching your mouth to her clit as you continued to finger her.
It didn’t take long for the speed of your fingers to increase inside her pussy and for your mouth to suck harder on her throbbing clit. Between the pleasure you were giving her and the whimpers and moans that were escaping from her mouth, you can’t help but feel the need to take care of yourself down there.
As you continue to eat Abby out, your non-dominant hand begins to trail its way down into your shorts and slide below your underwear. You instantly feel a sense of relief once your fingertips reach your clit, rubbing it gently as you continued to give Abby the pleasure she needed.
You began to whimper and moan into her pussy, the vibrations from your mouth causing chills to rush through Abby’s body as she tried to chase her orgasm.
Her pussy soon began to clench around your fingers more than usual, indicating that she was close. You briefly removed your mouth from her pussy to speak to her, quickly replacing it with your thumb in the meantime. “You’re getting close, aren’t you?” you asked, looking up at her.
Abby nodded quickly in response. “Y-yes, fuck, p-please don’t stop…” she whined out, quickly grabbing your head with one hand and pushing it back into her pussy while her other hand grips onto the edge of her bed.
You were practically being suffocated in between her strong thighs right now, but you could honestly care less. You weren’t stopping until she finished. You continued to desperately moan and whine into her pussy as you kept rubbing your needy clit with your other hand, trying to chase your orgasm as well.
“Oh fuck, baby, right there, I’m gonna—Fuck!”
Abby tried her best to warn you, she really did, but before you both knew it, her release was already spilling out of her pussy and onto your fingers and mouth, causing you to greedily drink up every last drop of her before slowly removing your mouth and fingers out of her.
Once Abby had recovered from her orgasm, she looked down at you just in time to see you take your other hand out of your shorts. She kept her eyes on your fingers, admiring how they were covered in your release as a result of the pleasure you just gave to her.
She brings her hand down to your chin and lifts it to meet her eyes with yours. The deja vu feeling was hitting her now the second she saw your pupils blown out once again, just like how you were not even a week ago when you went down on her under her desk while she was sitting across from her father.
You hesitate for a moment before soon making the effort to stand up to her height, bringing your two fingers that were coated in your slick up to her lips.
“Clean them up,” you commanded.
Abby nodded as she held the hand that was put to her mouth before parting her lips and sucking your fingers clean. Her eyes were trained on yours, maintaining eye contact as she did so.
“There you go, just like that…” you mutter out to her quietly.
Once they were clean, Abby removed your fingers from her mouth, making a slight pop sound as she did so. You lean in to plant a kiss on her lips, tasting a bit of yourself from her lips and vice versa. You then reach down to grab your phone and keys before walking towards her bedroom door to leave.
However, you pause in your tracks for one moment and turn your head around to look at her fucked out self one more time.
“I’ll see you at the bake sale.” you reminded her, that same smirk appearing now on both of your faces before you turned back around and exited her bedroom, now leaving her by herself.
Well, it’s safe to say that Abby was going to have to return the favor for you real soon.
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- a/n: i have to admit this one’s not my best work, it was my first time writing sub abby y’all believe me i tried my best 🙏🏻
also, i don’t usually self promote my fics but i did post my first dina fic the other day, it’s called overnight sensation and it’s a smau series. i’ve spent a lot of time and effort in making that fic so far so it’ll truly mean a lot to me if you guys could check it out 🤍
but other than that, i’ll see you guys in part 3!
tags 🏷️: @abbyscherry @whore4abby @zombholic @aouiaa @uraesthete @lia-winther @gaptoothedlesbo @deadbolted @abbysfavewh0rx @echostinn @mochiivqi @floptron @totallyghostdgirl @swtsuna @bellaramslover @naomis-daydream @ur-fav-pixi @sirenbxby @paprikahoernchen @thesevi0lentdelights @mostlyhornyandsad @tohoko
(^ i think that’s everyone?? let me know if i missed anyone/if you’d like to be tagged in the real part 3 LOL)
2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.
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