#he never sleeps in the same position either. they just get more and more strange

[yourfriendphoenix]

I dont think I've ever mentioned this before but we have chickens right? Around 50 rn. We keep a scrap bucket for the chickens to have. Like almost expired leftovers that we won't eat and stuff. Well my dad's cat Timmothy, (known by many names, Timmy, Timbles, Tim-Tim to name a few) likes to as we are bringing it out to the chickens, knock the bucket out of my parent's hands. He then will choose a random item from the bucket and scarf it down. He's done this so often that at this point we just lower the bucket to him so it doesn't make a giant mess. We call it the Timmothy Tax. Well now my cat Asher has decided that he wants in on Timmothy Tax. He grabbed a slice of bread from the bucket the other day and then proceeded to play with it a little before abandoning it, then Timmothy promptly roomba'd it up. Tessa could care less except for the one time that Timmothy grabbed watermelon and then decided he actually doesn't like watermelon. Tessa ate it instead.

[misc-obeyme]

You sometimes wonder if the demons end up in your room at night because somehow they know that you no longer prefer to wake up alone.

Ever since you started living at the House of Lamentation, you have gotten used to finding one or more of them there with you. A friendly face, a gentle touch, the warm body of someone who cared for you, someone you cared for in return.

They all arrive in their own unique ways.

Mammon, who always crashes through your door so easily during the day, sneaks in quietly at night. Most of the time he doesn't wake you. But if he does, he gets flustered and starts to leave until you ask him to stay.

"Of course ya want the Great Mammon to stay with ya," he says. Even in the darkness, you know he's blushing as he says it.

If you whine with nightmares, he'll kiss your head, pull you closer, and whisper that it'll be all right. And instantly the nightmares dissipate.

You never have nightmares when Belphie is around, either. He shows up in your dreams himself, fighting off the terrors with an energy you never see in him when he's awake.

He'll snuggle up to you any time and any place, but most often he finds you at night. He's impossible to disturb, even if you kick him in your sleep. You sometimes wake to find him in strange positions.

Asmo always rearranges him if they both end up with you on the same night.

"You won't get quality sleep like this," he says. "And you need quality sleep if you want to have quality skin!"

When he's alone, Asmo will come in only to stare at you fondly for a while. You know he never intends to stay. It's just a little peek at his favorite sleeping human. But then he finds he can't tear himself away. You'll wake up with his lips pressed against your cheek, as he always wants to kiss you in his sleep.

You sometimes have dreams about eating something, but in the morning you find it's because Beel was there having a midnight snack before falling asleep beside you. He likes to hold you close, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against his chest. You wake up in the middle of the night sometimes because it feels like being held by a furnace.

Although these are the brothers you wake up to most often, you'll find the others come around sometimes, too.

Satan will crawl into bed with you directly, without hesitation, but you know he's embarrassed about the need to be next to you. He'll hold you tightly, like he's afraid to let go. If you ask him what's wrong, he'll tell you, but it's always muffled because he's pressing his face into your neck.

"I'm irritated and I can't calm down enough to sleep," he says. "You always… "

You brush your fingers through his hair soothingly. "I know," you say. Because you do. You know that your presence relaxes him in a way nothing else does.

The ever elusive Levi only stops in when you're alone. He won't join any of his brothers and half the time, he's still awake in his room, binging anime or gaming into the wee hours. You pretend to be asleep if you know he's lingering outside your door because then he'll finally come inside.

He'll stand there and look at you, like he's just dropping in for a moment. He tells himself he'll always leave before you wake up, but that never happens. You deliberately shift yourself to be inviting, creating a space for him beside you. If he's here, he likely needs to rest, to shut off his mind for a little while, to indulge in his desire to be close to you when no one else is around. He blushes the whole time, but he does crawl beneath your covers and rest his head on your chest.

And then there's Lucifer.

The other brothers are constantly going in and out of your room. They have gaming competitions there and movie marathons. Sometimes they gather to do homework with you. Sometimes it's only one or two of them. And you always find one sleeping beside you.

Lucifer rarely takes part in these activities. He's always holed up in his office, working. He waits for you to come to him.

But every once in a while, you'll wake to find him kneeling beside your bed, his hand in your hair or resting on your cheek. Like he came in to check on you and couldn't resist a soft caress. His presence inevitably wakes you. And if you reach out, if you grab his hand, if you hold onto him, he'll give in and stay.

His most vulnerable moments are when he lies down in your bed beside you and lets himself run his fingers along your skin. He'll kiss your forehead and your eyelids, a tender gesture that speaks volumes.

And every morning, no matter who is with you when you wake, you find yourself next to someone who loves you. It becomes your favorite way to start the day. And somehow, every demon living in the House of Lamentation is aware of this. They make sure you're never sleeping alone.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[thegnomelord]

just read about demon hunter reader and demon ghost cuddling, and the first thing i thought was how ghost would react if, one of these times, reader ends up having a wet dream and dry humping his ass 😋

about time that our demon thinks of getting laid, he's disgusted and turned on at the same time

Sorry this took a while lads :Dd, I'm getting back into writing after all that shit with my school but I got a summer job as an assistant medical worker with 12h shifts every other day so It might take a bit for me to write stuff.

Hush, Hunter

CW:NSFW, MDNI, demon Simon Ghost Riley x male hunter reader, grinding, wet dreams, handjob, blowjob, size difference (demon ghost is like 11 feet tall.)

Your ‘husband’ is strange, even by demon standards.

He grumbles about the inconvenience brought on by your mortal failings and fragility, growling whenever you have to stop at a gas station to buy food or at some dingy motel to sleep. He grumbles even more about being confined in the stolen human skin suit he's forced to wear to blend in.

You can ignore the stranger with the stolen face and hellfire eyes throwing dark glares at you for the most part, except for when the demon decides to make the binding ring around your finger heat up when you spend too long talking to the pretty cashier. And it only takes a few more seconds of not paying heed to the incessant burn before Ghost Simon looms behind you, glaring at the flustered cashier like she’s a fey trying to trick you into the Fey Lord’s court.

And the big bastard never gives you any explanation on why he’s acting like that, just drags you back to your car, slamming the doors closed with enough strength to shake the entire vehicle. He’s like a cat honestly; hisses at you, but doesn’t want to let you out of his sight or claws.

But when your nightmares get so bad your only chance of sleeping is on the floor, well hidden behind the bed with your back flush with the dingy motel wall, Ghost surprises you by laying down with you. Sure he grumbles about the demeaning position - laying like some mongrel dog - but he still does it.

Ghost is on his side, his broad muscular back to you, rough inky scales swallowing all the moonlight that filters through the blinds and turning him into a pitch black wall of muscle. He’s so still you might even think he’s sleeping – you know he’s not; demons aren’t tied to mortal laws, nor are they subject to time’s iron grip, that’s what makes hunting demons so dangerous. The only indication you have that he’s awake is the occasional twitch of his tail and the slight shuffle of his wings when you accidentally get closer to him in your attempt to get a comfortable position.

You flinch when his one wing spreads out and back, but the blanket of black and blood dyed feathers soon eases the tension in your body. Probably too quickly, definitely too quickly, but Ghost doesn’t draw attention to it and neither do you and the night is cold and he is blissfully warm and he stays stock still when you shuffle a bit closer. You're glad he pays no attention to you when you get comfortable against him, barely an inch of space between you two.

His feathers tickle your face, they’re softer than you’d expect a wrath demon to have, fluffy like the down of chicks. His scent invades your nose, rough leather and steel oil and something distinctly demonic you can’t name. . . but it’s strangely comforting.

Laying only an inch or two away from a demon goes against everything you’ve ever been taught. Your nerves should be on a razor’s edge, but instead you’re calm. You don’t know why your fucked up mind finds comfort in the fact a possible threat would need to go through half a ton of murderous wrath demon to get to you. And you don’t want to think about it either, you’ve had far too many sleepless nights for your brain to care how you manage to sleep so long as you do. And the moment you close your eyes, you’re out like a light.

Ghost has gotten used to your nightmares.

Just like his father’s absent love, your nightmares are consistent. He’s almost impressed how such a frail thing like you could hunt the likes of hydras and Hell Dukes when you barely sleep a wink most nights. The longest you’ve gone is a couple of hours of restful sleep before you woke up trying to claw your eyes out. You never talk about it, nor does he, Ghost may be a demon but he knows far too well how the mind can haunt someone.

And Ghost has gotten good at telling apart the individual nightmares by how you squirm in your sleep.

It takes a little longer for the nightmare to start than usual, but he knows you’re neck deep in it when you heart starts it’s frantic drumming in your chest. He ruffles his feathers as your hands grip his sides, your breath fanning over his skin. He thinks it might be the basilisk haunting you this time by the way you press yourself flush with his back, burying your face into the space between his shoulder blades until your nose is flush with his spine, back hunching to further shield your eyes.

Ghost doesn’t, nor will he ever, mention the low happy rumble that escapes him when you snuggle up to him. His feathers fluff up, the scratchy hair of his tail flattening down - about as silk soft as he can make them. It’s little better than throwing pearls before swine, you won’t remember any of this after all, but doing this strangely doesn’t feel as much of a burden as it should.

Usually the low deep purring growling will chase away your nightmares and lull you into a dreamless sleep for a little while, but not this time. You squirm against his back like an eel, muscles tensing to grip his sides until dregs of pain dance along his spine. Your breath fans across his scales, your heart pounding in his ears like that of a rabbit’s caught in a snare. He’s just about ready to turn around and wake you before he feels it—

Your arousal pokes his back, hard like iron.

Only now does he pick up the slight sweetness of arousal in your adrenaline rich scent. “Hm- fuck.” You mumble as you roll your hips to grind your cock against him. “Slow- fuck fuck- slow down.” You breathe out, and Ghost swears this must be another part of his father’s eternal punishment. The sudden thought that your dream is of a sexual nature smites him with all the intensity of his father’s rage.

Who do you think you are, taking his little mercies for granted? Who do you think you are, grinding against him like some mongrel mutt? Who do you think you are holding him as if you are more than the eventual reward for the maggots fervent prayers? Who do you think you are—

“Ghost- Simon. . .” His name, his original name, leaves your lips; it’s the softest he’s ever heard you speak.

“Human.” He seethes and rolls around, pushing the warm feeling –warm like a campfire compared to the blistering pits down below that usually dwell in his chest– out of his mind. “Disgusting.” You’re so small compared to him, your head could easily fit in his rough hand, a momentary lapse in the binding’s protection all that it would take for his flesh rending claws to cleave through your skull. He’s thought about it often, of the look in your eyes as your life fades, of how good your blood would taste, of how nice your shoulder would look with his teeth marks on it. . .

His hand is gentle as he reaches to brush your cheek, like he’s handling glass, rumbling when you lean into the touch. “Wretched thing.” He growls, hand sliding from your cheek to your back and pulling you close. He feels you nuzzle into his wide chest, carefully bullying his thigh between yours, steel hard muscle tensing to give you a good surface to grind on. “Nothing more but a mongrel waste of flesh.” He doesn’t notice how quickly his voice has lost heat, barely above a murmur as he listens to your breathless gasp and watches your back arch.

For someone usually so guarded, you are painfully naked in flesh and soul, responding so wantonly to his touches; from low moans to soft little murmurs of ‘Simon’ and ‘more’ that has him mindlessly rubbing his thigh against your crotch in hopes of getting more of those so painfully human sounds. You moan and nuzzle into his chest, your body like soft clay in his hands now that you’re no longer shackled by the chains of pride and prejudice that your mind conjures around him

You’re like a strange bug to him; a part of him wants to pin you down, to tear you apart with vicious claws and see if there’s anything different in the way your heart beats, in the way your lungs move, in the way you exist — something substantial to show why holding you in his arms doesn’t feel as degrading as it should.

He wonders, briefly, if this is what God saw that made him love Adam so much. Why God did not have the heart to kill Adam for his disobedience.

Greed moves his hands like they’re puppets on strings, flesh rending claws carefully tracing the bumps of old and fresh scars that dot your abdomen — perhaps you aren’t so pathetic, it takes strength to survive this long. Your skin prickles from his touch, your breath fanning over the rough belly scales protecting his front as his hand slowly moves down. He hooks a claw under the band of your underwear and pulls down until your cock springs out right into Ghost’s hand.

Ghost hasn’t seen many cocks before, why would he?, but a low sound comes from his chest at how neatly your cock fits in his hand, how neatly all of you fit against him. And only now does it dawn on him that he doesn’t know how to do this— he’s a wrath demon for fuck’s sake, he understands war and bloodshed like it’s the back of his hand, but this? This is new territory.

Well, he’s never been one to back down when he’s gotten this far.

His hand slowly closes into a fist, just a little loose around you. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t be anything but gentle in the way he strokes you. Your hips move on their own, gentle little rocks to fuck your cock into his fist and he follows along with the motion. It’s a little rough at first, he feels how the dry slide of his hand makes you shiver, but he soon finds a nice pace as your precum eases the glide of flesh on flesh.

He wants to see your face when you moan, but he can’t bring himself to pull you away from his chest when you cling to him so sweetly, your lips mindlessly ghosting over his scales. So he contends himself with coiling his tail around your leg, draping a wing over you so there’s a barrier between you and the rest of the world, so no creature from heaven high or deep below may entertain the thought of taking what’s his.

No good thing lasts for long.

He feels you wake like the first thaw in spring, slow and gradual, eyes fluttering open, mind still clouded with pleasure to really understand the position you’re in. He takes advantage of that, gripping your hip to keep you close, swirling his tumb in the precum beading at your head and squeezing his hand just right to coerce a breathless moan from your chest.

Then your eyes snap open, realisation hitting you with the same intensity as the punch you throw at his skull. But the ‘marriage’ turns that show of force into a gentle caress of the skull cheek of his ‘face’. “Ghost what the fuck are you-” You begin, cut off as another clench of his hand has you gripping his forearm and biting your lip to silence yourself. 

“Oh hush hunter.” Ghost rumbles low in his throat, his wing tensing behind your back to bring you in closer, soft blood dyed feathers encasing you in a cocoon of warmth against his cool belly scales. “No need to wake the other worms.” Disdain and mockery drip from his voice like molasses, yet strangely it doesn’t feel aimed at you. . . it must just be the pleasure making you believe that.

“You- bastard!” You snarl, trying to summon the hunter savagery that had been meticulously beaten into you, but it slumbers like a fat cat. “Fuck off- get away from me.” You aim to slam your fist against his scaled abdomen, just a little lower and to the side where the floating ribs should be, but all you manage is a slow caress of his side and back up his chest where you can feel his eternal soul burning beneath the flesh.

He laughs and slides his hand down, rolling your balls in his wide hand and squeezing just enough to be at the edge of pain– shit, that should not feel so good. You hiss and throw your head back despite the inherent danger of exposing your throat. He tilts his head down, ghostly breath washing over your ear, “We both know if you wanted this to stop you would have done so.” Oh, now you can just feel the mockery in his voice, sweet like honey that it is.

Some petulant part of you thinks of arguing, anything to retain what remains of your damn pride, but then he slides his hand back up, pressing your cock against your stomach and grinding the palm of his hand against your shaft and all the thoughts of arguing are pushed to the side by the tide of pleasure. Fuck, it’s been far too long since you ‘took care’ of things, it’s not like you have much time to wank off, let alone with Ghost hanging over your shoulder like some grim reaper. And hell, if any other hunter heard you let a damn demon jack you off, yours would be the next head put on the stake but. . . but Ghost is surprisingly gentle with you, not a single hint of pain coming from his touches, not even from his claws gently running down your side.

“Fine-” You suck in a sharp breath, head fixed to stare directly at his chest. “Make it quick.”

You feel him smirk against your ear, “As you wish, hunter.” He laughs lowly, like you’re nothing but a cute puppy chewing on his shoelaces, “Though, you should thank me for debasing myself like this.” He growls, and with a sharp move of his wing he rolls you on your back. 

You gasp as your back hits the sleeping mat, and before you can even struggle Ghost looms over you, a wall of muscle and dark scaled flesh. “Fuck no.” You growl, some scraps of pride still clinging to your mind, though even those are threatened when his broad hand returns to stroking your cock, faster this time, the drag of his palm making pleasure sizzle up your spine. Your head rolls back to rest on the mat and you don’t even notice when you close your eyes. You’re not sure how Ghost is so good at this, something sharp like jealousy curling in your stomach at the thought of him doing this to someone else. But it’s hard to think when you can feel and hear him purring, his claws gently tracing your stomach and leaving lingering heat everywhere they touch.

You jump as something slick brushes over your balls, “Look, good hunter.” He growls and you listen without thought, eyes wide when you see his tongue— it extends from the darkness of his head just beneath the rotten upper teeth of his skull, long, black, thick strings of oil coloured spit dripping off his tongue. “That’s better,” He purrs; you’re not sure how he can talk, and you’re unable to ask because he leans in closer until your cock rests against his skull, his hellfire eyes burning in the darkness and giving just enough light for you to see his long black tongue curl around your base like a snake. 

Shit– he wants to kill you.

“Holy fuck Ghost-” You breathe out, lungs burning before you remember how to breathe. His tongue moves, squeezing your base and sliding lower to lap at your balls. You’re forced to bite your finger to stop the painfully pathetic sound burning on your tongue.

He stops moving and you’re thankful he doesn’t mention the whine that slips past your lips. “Simon.” He demands, oily spit clinging to your skin and making it tingle with heat.

“Simon.” You nod along dumbly, “Fuck- Simon.”

“Good.” You imagine he’s smiling when he says that, his hand returning to stroke your cock in reward. “Call me that again.” He says, a purr rumbling in his chest and you can’t help but moan at how the vibrations travel through his tongue, making it act like a vibrating toy.

Your hands fly to grip his horns, the pleasure making you throw your head back yet you try to keep your eyes on him, hiccuping his name between harsh breaths. He doesn’t mind the touch on his horns, leaning into the touch before flicking his tongue at your taint. He rewards you for each time you say his old name, tongue and hand working in tandem to slowly and steadily march you towards release. 

You try to tug on his horns to warn him, or maybe to pull him away, but he pays no heed; he doubles his efforts, wetly slurping at your balls and base while his hand toys with your crown, his free hand holding your hips down so all you can do is weather the pleasure until you’re finally pulled under the waves. “Simon-” You gasp, cum spurting all over his hand and your stomach. 

You watch through lidded eyes as he retracts his hand, keeping his gaze on you as he lazily licks up your cum from his hand. “Better than I expected.” He rumbles, more to himself than you, leaning up to drag his long slimy tongue across your stomach to gather up all your cum.

 Shit, that sight got you hard again before you could even soften.

You’re not sure if the greed you see spark in his eyes makes you scared or even harder, but you’re not left any room to think further about it before his tongue wraps around your cock again.

Unfortunately for you, demons have no concept of time as mortals know it, so his ‘quick’ ends up being the entire rest of the night. At one point you get to the point you’re sure Ghost is trying to kill you with all the pleasure, spit polishing your cock until he’s satisfied and by that point the sun is rising and your voice is hoarse.

You can’t meet the gaze of the motel receptionist in the morning, but Ghost Simon, looks smug like the cat who ate the canary.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Too Old

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Synopsis: Dean confronts you about a strange habit, and you have to confess something to him.

Author’s note: hey guys! Currently obsessed with supernatural (I’m very late to the fandom, and just about done the first season), so I took a tiny break from my Sherlock series to write this! Maybe there’ll be more Winchesters in the future, we’ll see!

“Y/N, why is your stupid dog on my bed again?”

You returned from the measly motel breakfast only to find Dean glaring at you, holding your stuffed dog with two fingers like it was made of acid. You bounded forward, snatching it up out of his hands.

“Gee I don’t know, why are you stealing him?” You hugged the animal to your chest, a feigned innocent expression on your face as you looked up at your big brother. At Sam’s light chuckle, you dropped the expression and giggled, punching Dean playfully on the arm when his glare hardened. “Aw c’mon, you gotta admit that was kinda funny.”

Dean only rolled his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, hilarious. Seriously though, keep the dog on your own bed.”

You scoffed.

“What bed?”

Every motel you went to, your big brothers instantly claimed the two beds, leaving you with the fold out couch. Every. Time.

Dean quirked his eyebrow, staring down at you.

“Someone’s feeling sassy this morning.”

You ignored him, turning around to stuff your dog in your backpack and double-checking that you had everything packed. Dean turned his back on you to do the same, tossing over his shoulder-

“Aren’t you a little old for that stuffed dog anyway?”

Your hands stilled, nearly dropping your bag before you regained your composure quickly before your brothers noticed.

“Nope, I don’t care what you say,” gosh, if only that were true, “I’m not tossing him out.”

Dean just scoffed and, you assumed, rolled his eyes.

“Alright, whatever. Hurry up, I wanna get out of here.”

Not twenty minutes later, you were on the road again, another days-long drive ahead of you. When darkness fell and the moon arose, you dug around in one of the bags for a blanket, pulling out your dog with it and cuddling up in the back for some rest. You pressed the soft fur of the stuffed animal up against your face, breathing in its calming scent contentedly.

“You alright back there?” Dean’s gruff voice broke the silence, and you mumbled a positive response as you shifted, trying to get comfortable enough to get to sleep.

…

Two days later, the pattern started over again. Checking into a motel for the night, the fold-out couch, the small bag by your side filled with only the necessities–you weren’t staying long. You never did. And that was fine, just fine.

What wasn’t fine was the next step in the pattern. You awoke in the middle of the night, the back of your neck and your forehead drenched in sweat, your breathing labored. Another nightmare, stupid, stupid nightmare, of yet another stupid, stupid monster attacking you. Was it a monster? Maybe it was a demon tonight. Not that it mattered, you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again either way. You hugged your stuffed dog to your chest and tried to breathe in its scent, before you remembered that you had washed it with the blankets as soon as you’d gotten to the motel.

Sighing in annoyance, you stood with the dog in hand, tip toeing over to Dean’s bed before hesitating. Would he get mad? Would he be suspicious about finding the animal in his bed again? No, you wouldn’t let him, you’d just have to get up before he did in the morning and take it back before he noticed. He couldn’t figure it out, he just couldn’t. You’d die of embarrassment if your big brother ever found out the real reason that he kept finding your dog in his bed.

You’d just have to be more careful next time.

…

Despite your surety that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again after the nightmare, after hours of tossing and turning, trying to rid yourself of the demons that haunted your dreams, you finally fell asleep. Unfortunately, because it took you so long to fall asleep, you didn’t wake up before your brothers in the morning, as you usually did.

“Y/N,” a voice cut through your sleep just as a hand shook your arm, “Y/N c’mon, time to get ready.”

You groaned, rolling over and blinking up to see Dean hovering above you, just before something dropped onto your head. You grabbed at it with your hand, and pulled it away enough to look at it. When you saw what it was, your stomach dropped.

Your dog. You’d left it in Dean’s bed again, and you hadn’t gotten up to retrieve it.

Dean was frowning at you, “That thing was in my bed again. Why do you keep putting it there? I know it’s not getting there on its own, and I know that Sam’s not determined enough in pranking me to lose precious minutes of sleep just to put this darn thing in my bed.”

You shook your head groggily, trying desperately to hide both your guilty look and your embarrassment as you shoved the animal into your bag.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dean. I didn’t do that.”

Dean grabbed your arm and turned you to face him.

“Come on, don’t give me that, I know when you’re lying,” He sighed. “Look, you’re not in trouble or anything, I’m not mad. It’s not that big of a deal, I just can’t figure out why you’re doing it.”

You shook your head.

“Dean, I mean it, I’m not-”

“Hey!”

Dean’s sudden change in tone made you flinch. You hadn’t expected him to get so persistent about something so small, but you should’ve known him better than that. He never let anything go.

“I told you, I’m not mad. I just want to know. C’mon, you can tell me anything.”

You weren’t so sure about that, but you also knew that Dean wouldn’t drop this no matter what you said. You figured you might as well get it over with now, with Sam out–probably getting coffee. The less people who had to hear your confession, the better.

“It smells like you,” You kept your voice so quiet, you almost hoped Dean hadn’t heard you.

“What?”

Ok, that backfired. Now you wished he had heard you, so you didn’t have to repeat it.

“When I leave it on your-on your bed. It smells like you.”

Dean was frowning at you now, curiosity covering his features.

“I don’t understand.”

You cleared your throat, blinking rapidly and trying desperately to look anywhere in the room but at Dean’s face.

“I leave it on your bed, because then it smells like your cologne. It-it’s a nice smell, it helps me sleep.”

Dean was trying desperately to catch your eye, but you wouldn’t let him.

“Ok,” Dean said slowly, thinking through your explanation. “You could’ve just sprayed my cologne on it, I wouldn’t have stopped you.”

You huffed in frustration, your cheeks growing more flushed with embarrassment by the second.

“It’s not just-just your cologne. It’s like this mix of your cologne and shampoo and-” you stopped your rambling, too embarrassed to go on. “Look, just forget it, ok? If it really bugs you so much, I can stop.” You swallowed hard, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn’t tell you to stop. You were having a hard enough time sleeping as it was, you weren’t sure how well you would do if Dean made you stop your little routine.

Dean shook his head.

“No, no it doesn’t bug me. I just don’t get it.”

Your lip was quivering now, and the longer Dean penetrated you with his stare the more you felt like crying.

“It’s just…it reminds me of-of when you used to let me sleep in your bed. When I was having a nightmare,” your breath caught when you felt a tear trailing down your cheek. You really didn’t want to cry in front of Dean, but his gentle, yet firm grip on your arm told you that you wouldn’t get out of this conversation easily. “But since you said I’m to-too old for that, I figured this might be ok.”

Dean was frowning again, and you couldn’t help but notice the alarm on his face when he saw your tears.

“Hey now, when did I say that?”

You bit your lip to keep it from trembling, flitting your eyes upward so that you didn’t have to look Dean in the eye.

“U-um, maybe a couple months ago? When I tried to,” you choked on the lump in your throat, but forced yourself to keep going, “When I tried to get in your bed one night, you tol-told me to go back to my own bed, because I was too–I was too old to sleep in your bed.”

Dean’s brows scrunched together, and a sigh escaped his lips as he tried again to catch your eye.

“I don’t remember that.”

A sound that sounded half laugh, half sob escaped your throat, and you ducked your head in shame.

“I do.”

You felt Dean’s strong arms wrap around your shoulders, and before you knew it his hand was at the back of your head, pushing your face against the soft fabric of his shirt as his other hand rubbed your back.

“I don’t remember…baby, I didn’t mean it. You can come to me whenever you need to, ok?”

You sniffled, wincing when you saw you were getting tears all over his shirt.

“I don’t need to…I shouldn’t…Dean you’re right, I’m too old to-”

“No,” Dean’s voice was firm, and he pulled away from you just enough to try to look into your eyes. But you wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Look at me.”

Slowly, reluctantly, you let your eyes stray to his, and you saw resolve hardening his gaze. But there was a softness there too, a tenderness that only you, his baby sister, got to see.

“You’re never gonna be too old to need me, ok? I’m always gonna be here for you, I promise.” Dean sighed, and when his gaze wandered below your eyes you knew he was seeing the dark circles planted there. “You’ve been having nightmares, right? That’s why you wanted to sleep in my bed?”

You nodded, your head again ducking in shame. Dean’s strong fingers gripped your chin, lifting your head up so you were forced to meet his gaze.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not gonna let you go through those alone, ok? Next time you have one, I want you to come straight to me, understand?”

There was something comforting about Dean’s commanding tone. If he had been only reassuring, you would’ve perhaps felt that he was just trying to be nice. But his “soldier tone”, his ordering you to come to him, made you feel less like you were bothering him, and more like you were following an order, something that you knew made him happy.

You snapped a sarcastic salute, and even though he tried to hide it, you saw the corners of his lips turn up slightly at your action before he maintained a more serious expression.

“Alright, alright, you little smart-alek,” He pulled you into his arms again and stood, holding you off the ground and making you giggle, before he dropped you to the floor and clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Go get your stuff, ok? We’ve got about a thirteen-hour drive ahead of us before we reach where we’re going.”

Just as you turned to grab your bag, Dean gripped your shoulder a little tighter and leaned down to look at you.

“Hey, when we get there tonight, I want you to come to me if you can’t sleep, ok? Promise me.”

You smiled widely at your big brother, and lunged forward to wrap him in a hug.

“Promise.”

[flower-yi]

Margaret's greeting to you is sweet.

She's the assistant Veritas took in three years ago, and hasn't left since. Most people applying to the position have ulterior motives—you glumly recall a specific student, because my goodness, they have little to no shame these days—but just one meeting with her made you sure she'd be 'the one'. Her unwavering yet gentle disposition was endearing, and despite Veritas's distrustful attitude, she got in anyways.

(You think it's one of the best decisions he's made.)

"Is there anything in the mail?" You ask, shutting the door behind you.

She hums, "No, not really."

"Really?" This surprises you. Usually, it's a race to contact him on anything new he's working on. "Veritas said he's expecting letters for that weapon he's finished working on. You know, the anti-planetary one?"

"Remind me what's... that, again?"

Margaret furrows her eyebrows. Maybe Veritas forgot to tell her. "Remember that project he's been working on for a long time? The weapon got sent in for a test-firing and it was successful. So, he's waiting for any correspondence from anyone who'd like to expand on it."

(You remember peeking into his office, once, wondering why he was up so late. He promised more than four hours ago that he'll join you in bed, but there was only a coldness to his side of the bed you'll never get accustomed to.

"I will be there in a couple minutes, my love," Veritas addressed you without lifting his gaze from the blueprints he's scribbling on. From the mess on his hands, it seems he's been working on it since tucking you in. "You may go to the bedroom yourself. It is unnecessary to wait on me."

Instead of listening to him, you entered his office with the door clicking behind you. Veritas's head lifted, lips parted and about to say something, but he stopped; adjusting his glasses.

You draped over him, meeting cold skin.

"What're you working on?" You asked, instead. His warmth soothed you. "Mmh... looks like it's important."

Veritas placed a hand on yours, raised to his lips to be kissed. Aeons, your little doctor was so warm. "This weapon... will be a magnum opus. One that will eventually serve its purpose, and will be recognized for years to come."

Even in the sleep-addled brain of yours, you knew it was important.

"Yeah?"

"Indeed. It will be a weapon that will..." Veritas suddenly fell silent, alarming you. He was quick to assure you with another kiss to your hand, "Do not be so concerned, my love. Either way, this weapon will be reaching its final stages soon."

You were nearing dreamland, at this point. You recall it well.

Though the mutter under his breath was ingrained in your brain:

"An anti-planetary weapon that will, hopefully, earn Nous's blessing this time...")

The spark of recognition appears, "Oh, that one!"

"You know it," you toss her a smile. "So, what's the status? I hope the Genius Society picks up one of his inventions this time. He's been looking forward to it ever since."

You take a moment to place the paper bags on the table, setting aside your bag on one of the chairs for visitors. It's well into the afternoon, classes are finished, and by Veritas's schedule, you're sure both are famished. It's strange he's not in his office at this time. You're never late with your visits, so perhaps it's likely you're early and Veritas is late.

He's probably finishing up the last lectures of the day somewhere.

"I feel the same," Margaret knows Veritas to an extent that falls closely to yours, and it's not hard to root for him the same way you do. It warms your heart to hear how Margaret holds him in high-esteem. "Mr. Ratio's one of the best, they'd be out of the minds to not induct him into the Society—oh, are those chicken wraps?"

The chicken wraps are steaming as you tear away the aluminium foil. "Yeah, I bought it for the two of you. Want one?" Her eager nod has a laugh huff out of you, so you hand it to her. You joke, "So hungry you nearly forgot, huh?"

"Yeah... where did you buy them?"

"It's near the university. There were so many students I had to fight for it..." Thankfully, one of the vendors pitied your nearly trampled self and gave you two on the house. You make a silent note to bring Veritas there to pay your debt. "...anyways, where were we?"

Margaret pauses, "Mr. Ratio's genius?"

Well, that's not what you were saying, but it's a part of the topic. "Yes, genius. Veritas is intelligent, of course. Speaking of genius, did the Genius Society send anything?"

Margaret's reaction to your question is strange. She freezes, chicken wrap just hovering in front of her mouth. Your inquisitive gaze snaps her out of her reverie, and when getting her bearings, she's avoiding your eyes. "Nothing... yet, of course. I've been watching the mail for a week already."

A week? The Genius Society's correspondence normally would not take so long. "Is there anything else in the mail?"

"No, not really," she nods her head.

Huh? The disconnect between her body language and words makes no sense at all. However, the soft smile on Margaret's lips takes the edge of the suspicion off. Why would she lie to your face, though? Unless something's happened, then...

You decide to say something else. "I see... perhaps there's some issue with the mailing system?"

"Maybe!" Margaret agrees too easily with you. Her voice went too high-pitched, smile exaggerated, then she changes the subject, "Have you eaten on the way here? It feels impolite to be the only one eating."

The sudden mention of manners has you laugh awkwardly. It's already strange enough she's avoiding a simple question like she is right now but the poor girl looks like she's about to burst with your incessant questioning of if there's anything in the mail .

Is it really so hard to answer?

"Yes, I did," you answer. Gesturing to her chicken wrap, you say, "So, go ahead and eat. It's alright."

When you turn your gaze away from her, it's as if Margaret breathes a sigh of relief. It's obvious even in the corner of your eye. For the three years she's been here, her knowledge on Veritas's projects would be better than yours. After all, it is something work related, and she deals with his correspondence to anyone on behalf of him.

If she's lying like this, then there must be a reason. A Veritas-shaped reason, indeed, because he's got a bad habit of concealing things when it comes to something.

Letting Margaret be, you take a seat on one of the chairs meant for guests. Veritas's office is a spacious one, with a small reception area for visitors to wait on him. The door to his office is by the left, the entrance to this space on the right, and Margaret's desk in the middle of the room with the lounge chairs lined up by the wall in front of her.

With this placement, it provides you a clear view of Veritas's door... and the light escaping below it.

He's here in his office and he didn't come out to greet you.

Several emotions rise up and simmer in you. Some of them are negative. Well. Most of them are, because the way alarm and concern starts to boil within you is too much.

You take a deep breath to sort your emotions first. Your feelings are negative, and worry takes the top of the list. There are some wisps of anger but it quickly melts into the emotion up top and you slowly realise that Veritas has not messaged you even once starting... 1700 system hours ago.

With your phone now in hand, you shoot him a message.

It's something to the effect of asking where he is. The loud ding! of his own phone seeps out of his office room, out into the reception, and into Margaret and yours' ears.

Guilt colours Margaret's face vibrantly.

"I can explain," she begins as you stand up, making your way to his office. Poor girl, she's been shocked out of savouring the chicken wrap you've bought. "He's— he needs some time to himself..."

It's something other than needing time to himself, you know it, you know .

You give her a rueful smile, "Is that why you told me there's no mail?"

Margaret... falls short on an answer. The diverting of her eyes to the floor tells you everything. The successful test-firing of that anti-planetary weapon was done a few weeks ago, and everyone in the know was scrambling to cover it. It was Veritas, after all, and his name—like every genius—is known across the star systems. It'd make no sense there was no mail, no nothing , to be sent to him.

You only hold on to that tiny, little hope that you're wrong and Veritas is too caught on rejoicing to have noticed your arrival.

Only a look of understanding could be given to her. To scream, to yell, to let everything burst on Margaret is counter-productive. Maybe, if you asked, she'd say that she was merely doing what she, as an academic assistant, should do.

(If it was some other situation, you'd say—to his face—that you were right about Margaret. You'd say to him she's the best academic assistant he's ever had.)

You barely spare Margaret any glance before opening the door to his office. Thousands of thoughts trickle into your brain now, ranging from is he okay? to I hope nothing's bad happened.

Every moment of you turning the knob to open feels like in slow motion. Your heart is racing, just every inkling sending you in a worry-filled tizzy, and you feel nearly paralyzed in the spot where you are right now.

You open the door, and pity and fear and just everything drops a cold bucket over you.

Veritas sits on the chair by his desk, a crumpled letter on the wood and his headpiece discarded somewhere off to the side.

You're sure he's heard you coming in.

"Veritas?"

He absentmindedly says, "You may enter."

Veritas's voice doesn't have the usual lilt it has. It does not carry around the room, nor does it have its self-assured cadence that comes from being a genius. He stares at the scenery outside his office window, as if too entranced with the way light leaves the sky to make way for the moon. The moon that merely borrows its lumination from the sun.

The door locks behind you with a click that seems to echo in the dreadfully silent office. Now, only your footsteps make noise while approaching him. You move like you're holding your breath, not wanting to startle an animal that's already on its last legs.

But it's Veritas. He's not some lowly animal, though you know his heart to be softer than anyone else would presume.

Leaned over him, you bring his face into your hands. He lets you so readily, not once making any smart comment about handling him like porcelain.

(You received such a comment, once, when doing so the first time. Before Margaret, it was you. It was so long ago you don't recall, but Veritas had turned to you for help in handling his interactions with the "outside world", he'd call it, and this time, he was busy with a project. Some prototype he'd been originally commissioned to make, though, without any second thoughts, turned down any offer of payment and instead asked that his name be "spread across the cosmos". You originally blanched at the credits the ruler of the planet was willing to drop for Veritas's involvement in their planet-wide security, but he easily brushed your surprise off. At that moment, you were sure that, to him, it was another day of putting his gifts to use. Another day of using his intelligence to aid in the prosperity of civilizations, as if it was nothing to boast about. "Do I seem to evoke some child-like energy to hold me like this?" Veritas questioned, a quizzical brow arched. There was nothing in his tone that suggested he disliked it to the point of abhorrence. If anything, he looked— curious as to why you'd hold him like this. Instead of answering that silent question, you cooed, "Oh, yes. A little baby, indeed! You're so adorable—" "That's enough," he interrupted. You couldn't help but laugh at his disgusted face. "While I appreciate the gesture, I ask you continue sorting through the letters that came through the mail if you are wasting your time like this." "You call this wasted time? I'm suddenly not allowed to hold my handsome boy like this." Veritas's eyes narrowed. "Cease calling me a 'handsome boy', and I will consider this time to be not of the 'wasted' sort." So, he didn't hate it then. You smiled. "You like it then, Veritas?" He fell silent, you recall. His eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, it seemed like he'd say no. Then Veritas turned his head, kissed your palm, and murmured, "If it's you... then, yes.")

You wonder if he can outright acknowledge it's you who's holding him this way. He seems so out of it that what gnaws at you says no, but you try. You try for him. "Veritas?" You say, again, redirecting his attention to you. His eyes follow his head's movement, but it drags, and it's like it's taking everything out of him to begin looking at you.

Faint recognition appears on his face, and his voice softens too much, unlike the usual way he addresses you, "...My apologies for not greeting you when you came. I was absorbed in my readings of a letter the IPC sent me. An invitation of some sorts..."

When you see his eyes, the world falls silent.

Oh, Aeons, his eyes. Its lost its sheen and barely looks like he's there at all.

Your heart aches. So, that's it, then.

"What did they invite you to, love?" You ask, caressing his cheeks.

Veritas breathes as if it takes so much out of him to say, “The Intelligentsia Guild.”

“Ah,” You hum, willing the sadness away from your features. This moment is about Veritas, not you. “I see. You think I should reply to them, instead?”

The shake of Veritas’s head is slow. The hand he raises to envelop over yours is warm, yet you cannot find yourself to find comfort in it. “It is… better than nothing, love.”

The sight of Veritas blurs.

And, of course, out of everything, he notices you.

"You're crying," Veritas whispers softly. He reaches over and attempts to wipe away the tears streaming down, trying to soothe you. "Am I the cause of your tears? Then, I apologize. For... for being such a failure in front of you. Nous has not deemed me enough." You hadn't realized your eyes beginning to water; a single tear brought on a waterfall.

Aeons, you want to beat him ten times over. "You're not supposed to say sorry, Veritas. I'm... I'm only so worried about you."

Veritas meets eyes with you, and knows that it's not enough to cover the defeat. The disappointment surrounding his head like clouds, blurring every aspect of himself that he thought himself to be worthy of Nous' gaze.

He looks tired; an exhaustion that drills into his bones and something far beyond you. You think he's feeling the countless hours he's poured into that weapon, the surge of ambition and dedication used to fuel his drive, and the beginning of something chipping away at him and you don't know what.

(It scares you. It scares you because Veritas shoulders too many burdens he should have given to you to share.)

"You're the best scholar I’ve ever met, Veritas,“ You tell him, pushing past the tears that line your face. ”The smartest I’ve ever seen. Have you known your intelligence was the part of you that pulled me towards you? Your genius is unparalleled, my love. There is no one else I can think of if, ever, someone asks me about the most astute person I know.“

Does he think they are empty compliments? Because Veritas merely says, “Your words are better suited to a man whose Nous’ gaze fell upon him.”

You fall silent, defeated. What are you supposed to say? Are you to tell him that Nous does not matter, when his life is centered around knowledge? What is someone to do in this situation? What is comfort to a man who has been seared beyond recognition by an Aeon whom he worships?

“It is not hopeless,” Someone speaks, and you take a moment to recognize that it is you who has spoken. “Will you let an Aeon define who you are, Veritas?”

Veritas’s eyes slip close, and his forehead rests against yours. There is nothing but your soft sniffling, the steady breathing of your lover, and the persistent ticking of the clock in his office that sounds off. It is quiet and chilling, as if waiting for some bomb to tick off to end this moment once and for all.

His eyelids flutter, reddish-pink eyes peeking through—some brightness have returned, but not enough.

Veritas replies, “I… will try not to let them define me.”

To you, that is enough.

(You know than more that he will take this moment, and let it haunt him.)

[daydreamingyuta]

Mornings | Jaehyun

summary: fluff, a collection of mornings with Jaehyun over the years as you spend your lives together. word count: 1,127

Saturday August 10, 2019 [7:18 am]

You woke up, having hardly gotten any sleep, but energized as ever. Today you were meeting up with your boyfriend, Jaehyun. You two had just made everything official and your heart was so happy.

You go into the bathroom to do your skincare, and when you walk back into your room, you notice a good morning text from him.

Jaehyun: "Good morning baby! Can't wait to see you today <3"

A single text shouldn't make you this filled with joy, but it's from Jaehyun, so of course it does.

Y/n: "I can't wait either! Do you think we could also get some ice cream afterwards?"

Jaehyun: "We'll do anything you want angel"

You flop back onto your unmade bed, your thoughts filled with how lucky you feel to be Jaehyun's girl. You start to get giggly because you know that, by the end of the date he's going to cup your face into his hands and tell you how pretty he thinks you are, like he always does.

⸻

Sunday November 10th, 2019 [1:17 am]

You were supposed to be at home, already asleep in bed by now, but you and Jaehyun didn't want to leave each other. Each of you making excuses to prolong your date. Now it's one in the morning and you're on a walk, the street lit up by the moonlight. Each step you take, now unconsciously synced with his. Jaehyun hasn't let go of your hand once, and you wish that he never would. While you were enjoying your stroll, his mind was racing, thinking of how to tell you. He knew in his heart that you felt the same way about him, so he decided it would be best to just tell you outright. "Y/n?" He says, with a hint of nervousness in his voice.

You both stop and turn to face each other, knowing from the tone in his voice that he needs to tell you something important. "I love you." Words cannot describe how your heart feels in this moment. The way he's looking at you, like you're the most precious person in the world to him, was making you melt. "You love me?" You say with a teasing smile, tilting your head slightly. "So much y/n. I can hardly take it." He says, breathlessly. You stand up on your tippy toes and give him the biggest kiss you've ever given him. "I love you too, Jaehyun."

⸻

Sunday December 15th, 2019 [9:12 am]

The slight movement of Jaehyun cuddling more into you was the reason you had woken up. You move to get into a more comfortable position, causing Jaehyun to wrap his arm tighter around you.  “I’m sorry baby, did I wake you up?” Jaehyun says with his morning voice that you couldn’t get enough of.  “Hm, it’s okay. I love cuddling with you in the mornings.” Jaehyun nuzzles his head into your neck, “Me too, baby.” You fall back asleep, thinking about how excited you were that it’s almost your six month anniversary together. You can’t believe that you’ve been together for that long, the time feeling like it was going by so fast. 

⸻

Friday April 16, 2021 [7:32 am]

You knew something was up. You weren't sure what, but Jaehyun and all your friends and family had been acting strange for the past month. Like they all knew something you didn't.

You had just gotten a promotion at work, so maybe they all came together to plan a surprise party for you. But that's not really something you would enjoy and they all know that, so you really had no clue what it could be.

Today, Jaehyun was taking you out on a fancy dinner date, so whatever was going on definitely wasn't happening today.

"Good morning, angel." Jaehyun says, once he sees that you're awake. He's carrying a suit that he must have just picked up from the dry cleaners.

"Did you buy a brand new suit for our dinner?" You ask, confused.

"Yeah." He shrugs, as if getting a new suit was no big deal. As if he didn't have to spend days finding the right one for the special occasion. As if he didn't get the suit tailored to fit him exactly the way he knows you like.

You had more questions, but Jaehyun distracted you from them all by climbing into bed with you and giving you a million little kisses. You were in heaven whenever he did this.

Little did you know, that in only a couple of hours he was going to be down on one knee, in the park that you two visited during your first date, asking you to make him the happiest man on earth.

⸻

Monday May 16, 2022 [10:35 am]

You woke up with the waves coming from right outside your hotel window. You feel around the bed and notice that Jaehyun must have already gotten up. You hear a sound in the bathroom and know that he just got finished with his morning shower.  He comes out of the bathroom with a white robe on, his hair wet and messy, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone as handsome in your life.  “Can you believe we got married two days ago, Jae?” You ask, unapologetically staring him down.  “No, I can't." He says, jumping back under the covers with you. "Did my beautiful wife have a good night's sleep?” You rest your chin on his now bear chest. “Yes, I did.” He strokes your hair as he looks down at you. “Should we sleep in on the first day of our honeymoon?” You nod your head yes, adamantly. You come up to press a kiss onto his lips and he cups your face into his hands and kisses you back. He pulls away, but just for a moment to ask you a question. “Do you know how beautiful you are y/n?”

⸻

Monday May 8th, 2028 [7:23 am]

“Mommy!” You hear as your oldest hops onto your bed, waking you up. “Mommy, happy mothers day!” She presses kisses all over you, making sure that you're fully awake. “Thank you sweetheart.” You say, sitting up so you can give her a hug and another kiss. She giggles in your arms and gets close to your ear like she has a secret to tell you.

"We made you something." She whispers.

Soon after, Jaehyun walks through the door, balancing your youngest in one arm and a stack of pancakes in the other.

“Happy mothers day, angel.” Jaehyun tells you as he sits the pancakes down on the bed and leans over to give you a sweet kiss.

[azullumi]

summary — cuddling times with you and him.

characters — kaveh, alhaitham, tighnari, cyno, wanderer (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, cuddling, established relationship, not proofread; headcanons

words — 1373

note — trying to get back to writing after like being stressed for the past few days but im fine now but anyways, have this ^^

kaveh

He's a very cuddly man and he always have the time to cuddle, often wanting to keep you close to him even if it's just in those small and simple moments like sleeping together underneath the same sheets—thus he doesn't have any favorite position as long as he gets to feel you so closely against him.

He doesn't mind either being the big spoon or the small spoon, it all just depends on the mood to be honest. If he wishes to be comforted or protected, he'll rather be the one being held and if it's just his normal sappy mood or if he wants to become something like a protective figure to you as you try to sleep, he's going to be the big spoon.

He's so insufferably clingy, always wanting to kiss, hug, and cuddle as much as possible—he wouldn't let another day pass without him not getting to feel your warmth in his arms and being comforted as he dwells in your peace. He just loves the idea of how intimate and affectionate a simple action could be, of how it can bring two different people closer, of how a peaceful and silent moment could be so loud and be filled with love, and he loves it more because he's doing and spending it with you.

If he would be given a chance for the two of you to be one, snuggling and merging one another like puzzle pieces settling on the board and forming an image, he would instantly grab on it but this is the closest he’ll ever get and even if it's only that, he'll take it.

alhaitham

He can and he will cuddle you in any situation despite not asking for it, he just always tries to cuddle as much as he can. 

One moment, you'll be walking around the room while trying to accomplish something then the next he's pulling you towards him and you find yourself in a position where your back is facing him and he's wrapping his arms around you as he tries to fall asleep, having you as some sort of pillow that gives him all the comfort and warmth he needs. You just find yourself often being disturbed or distracted because of how needy he gets.

Taking a break from any activities or tasks like studying or just resting overall will only lead you to on a bed or a couch—or maybe on the floor if you two are fine with the cold and hard feeling of it—and being in each other's cradle, embraced and locked in one another's arms as you silently breath against one another, sharing one's thoughts, and exchanging gentle and tender words.

While snuggled in each other's embrace, he loves to talk and listen to you do so and oftentimes, cuddling times with you ends up in a discussion about any topics that could be strange or weird—yet you still entertain each other—it varies and it's a wonder that you two never seem to run out of ideas inside your head; "Have you ever thought about how a snake would walk if it has legs? Will it have two and walk while standing or will it have four or more? Honestly, how many legs will it even have?"

wanderer

Always chooses to be the big spoon, however, if the roles were to be switched and he’s the one being cradled and held in one’s arms instead, he wouldn’t mind and would, in fact, love it—although he wouldn’t outright admit it. Perhaps he had never told you about how he feels safe in your arms, being comforted by the sense of security you give him as if you’re protecting him from any harm that comes to threaten but you you could tell it from the way he just lets you wrap your arms around him without complaint and cradle him like a small child.

He can get extremely touchy, his hands not settling on a single spot and would often be roaming around your body, trailing your skin, playing with your fingers, drawing shapes on the back of your palm, and everything. He just wishes to feel all of you, every inch of you, and he takes this moment when the two of you are nestled in each other's arms as a chance.

He loves it when he sneaks his hand, especially when it's feeling cold, underneath your shirt and feeling your skin on his palm which catches you off-guard and startles you—seeing your reaction makes him chuckle every time. He wouldn't remove his hand though if you were to say so, only reasoning that he needs to keep both he and his hands warm even if it's not that cold.

He would complain how his arms are feeling sore already but try to even budge and move away and he'll raise an eyebrow at you, asking you what you are trying to do—I mean, he never said or told you to leave.

tighnari

He likes being held, he loves laying his head on your chest or burying his face on the crook where your neck meets your shoulders while you could play and twirl strands of his hair on your finger or while you rub his back and draw circles on it, he especially loves it when you massage his scalp and comb your hand through his hair.

Comfort cuddles are fairly something that would commonly happen between you two. He loves those instances wherein you’re holding him to your chest as you allow him ease himself while you lull him to sleep with the sound of your heartbeat while perhaps as you talk to him in a gentle voice.

He mostly seeks out to hug and cuddle whenever his stress levels are too high and he needs to relax himself so cuddling times often happens either during the afternoon or after his occasionally stressful patrols and duties, oftentimes when the day ends and the two of you have nothing left to do. Honestly, he looks for you when he's being overwhelmed by his feelings, whether jealousy, sadness, joy—it's just that your warmth brings him so much comfort and helps him in grounding himself.

Well, he's not the only one being comforted here, it is also you, even if it's just in a small gesture that he does while drawn close to each other. It could be the way he drags his fingers across your skin or ghosts his touch over you, in a manner that doesn't tickle you but simply in just desiring to touch your skin and feel what's underneath it.

cyno

The two of you mostly spend your time cuddling in silence and sleeping, there's no conversations being held and only rarely will it happen. However, it's not a dreadful silence nor is it an uncomfortable one but it's one of languidness and tranquility.

He doesn't move a lot in his position, only staying in one, and it makes you wonder if his body gets sore or anything because of how still he is while cuddling each other—you can offer to massage his shoulders and if he would allow you, you could feel how stiff his shoulders are and you couldn't tell if it's because of the heavy burden of the responsibilities resting on top of it or if it's how he holds you so much, so close, and so still when he wraps his arms around you.

He can cuddle you for hours and wouldn't easily let you go if you try to leave even if his hold on you isn't not that tight and even when he is also asleep—he has never told you of how he hates that feeling of absence right beside him, on the side of your bed, when he wakes up.

Cuddling, holding, and being up against each other is one thing he looks forward to in each day, he just simply adores the way you feel, the way your chest rises and falls, the feeling of your breath fanning his skin as he holds you against him, listening to he relaxed beating of your heart that gently lulls him. He just adores having you underneath the touch of his fingertips and in between his arms. 

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[remotepixel]

Platonic Yan!Tony Stark headcanons:

First post, very nervous </3.

(Request are open btw!!)

I've seen him called a mother hen multiple times but it's definitely amplified here.

-He's always wondering about the what-ifs and, as an important part of his life, most will be centred around you.

-Even small things like not wearing a coat when it’s cold will probably mess up his heart even further (please put one on, for his sake).

-Tech will be made in your honour because 'you never know'.

-And, as for giving it to you, I think it would go two ways:

-Straight-up giving it to you as a gift (pretty casually for him).

-Or leaving it really obviously somewhere and when you ask about it he acts all casual like he didn't spend the last week on it.

-In either of these scenarios he would be impatiently waiting for you to praise him.

-Like you're looking at it and he's making his usual quips while internally dying in suspense.

-He lives off your approval even if he'd never admit it.

-Any sort of positive reaction to him or his work would lift his mood for the rest of the day (though it may indirectly encourage him to work instead of living to get that same reaction).

This is probably obvious but mf would definitely stalk you online.

-Like, the tech isn't just for you, he isn't that selfless.

-Its a way to monitor you:)

-The Stark phone is tracking you 24/7 and reading/watching everything you're doing.

-There's a screen in his lab just for your activity and JARVIS is on alert in case he misses anything (which is kinda hard when he's glancing at it every 2 seconds but the lack of sleep catches up sometimes).

Just like his constant seek of approval, he wants to constantly be in your life and know everything about you (other reason why his inventions are handy).

-Knowing everything allows him to feel comfortable and increases the chances of you actually liking him (or at least, that’s his logic), and it’s the same for being around you 24/7 (though it also helps his paranoia, that he will be there to protect you if anything happens).

-He'd play nice with your parents (lowkey reluctantly) , teachers, background check all your friends, anything to keep himself involved and in the loop surrounding you.

(He definitely has a whole terabyte or more of information about you with a lot of security measures just in case anyone finds it).

I think due to his upbringing (yk, not having a good dad lol) he would compliment you often.

-He's not an overall affectionate guy so it would probably be the subtle 'good work' or pat on the shoulder but he'll try at least.

-That's why he normally goes with gifts- whether tech like mentioned before or anonymously paying for any subscriptions, bills, etc.

You not liking him for any reason would crush his soul.

-He overthinks everything, to the point where if you forget to say hello to him or something he'd convinced he's done something wrong.

-He knows self-loathing isn't good and he's reading too much into it, but it doesn't help when all he can think about is yet another person leaving.

-He'll play it off ofc but he'll be searching for ages trying to find any more clues for your behaviour.

-He isn't good at comforting so, if you’re in any sort of negative mood, he'll make more jokes, drop in a few not very subtle 'you can talk about anything to me', just anything to try and get you happy once again.

-If you're happy, you'll want to be near him and that makes him happy in return.

-In his mind, its a fair deal.

Although impulsive, he’s self aware.

-He knows his behaviour is strange to say the least, but he basically gaslights himself into believing it’s the best choice.

-Like, you fall over once? Well, that wouldn’t have happened if he was your guardian.

-I don’t think kidnapping would happen unless you get put into serious danger which he then believes warrants keeping you ‘safe’ in the tower, or he overreacts to a trivial thing (he’s in his mother henning mood), decides enough is enough, and then realises what he’s done an hour later and now has to live with the consequences.

Overall, he’s a paranoid, approval-seeking, obsessive silly little guy :)

[devilishchaos]

hi love, i have no clue if youre taking requests atm but im really in love with ur writings, super talented🥹 i wonder if you could write more fluff where rúben is having the pregnancy symptoms (cravings, back pain, etc) basically hes feeling your pregnancy ups and downs hehe

Sympathetic pregnancy | Rúben Dias Imagine

Rating / genre: fluff

Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias

Summary: Rúben, an expectant father, experiences some of the same symptoms and behavior as his pregnant partner.

Warnings: none

AN: Heyy, thank you so much for the kind words and the request <3 I hope you like it! :) x

Word Count: 813 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

You rolled onto your back with a small groan. Nothing seems to work, you are overly tired, frustrated, in pain and hungry. You are so uncomfortable you actually want to scream. Your stomach is huge and because of that, no position in bed is comfy. Literally not even one. 

Being 38 weeks pregnant is hard, all you really want at this point is for the baby to come out already. On top of not being able to find a position to sleep in, you never slept more than an hour at a time. Tonight especially, you had been experiencing braxton-hicks contractions for most of the night, some of them bringing you to tears. You placed your hand on your stomach and could feel him kicking around. You could feel his tiny feet pushing through the skin of your stomach, giving you butterflies and a smile. There was just something so strange about feeling a baby kick within you and while it was weird - it was a beautiful part of pregnancy that you would for sure miss. But of course, right now you just wished he would stay still and go to sleep so maybe you could get some sleep as well. You winced in pain as you felt another contraction come on. 

“Rúben?” you asked softly, trying not to startle him. 

But there wasn’t a response. 

“Rúbes?” you tried again, but still nothing. 

And since your back was facing him, you had to turn around to see why he wasn’t responding. Which alone was a big task. 

You soon discovered that Rúben wasn’t in bed, his side empty and cold, which meant it had been a while since he had left. But where could have he gone? It was the middle of the night and he had early training tomorrow. So you decided to go and look for him. 

After carefully getting out of bed, you put on your fuzzy robe and opened the bedroom door. Immediately you entered the living room and you were met with darkness. You made your way to the closest light switch and 

“Ah, are you eating my favorite craving without me?” you gasped at your husband, who you caught red-handed, trying to stuff a pickle in his mouth, a jar of grape jelly and one with peanut butter opened in front of him, sitting on the kitchen counter “How could you do this to me?” 

“Princess, I-” 

“Don’t princess me now mister! Are you stealing your baby mama’s food? And why are you sitting in darkness??” 

“I’m not! I- I just..I wanted to try it and I- I couldn't stop, I guess.” 

“It’s good, huh? Make room for me.” 

You waddled your way to him, around the kitchen island, and put your hand out. He put a pickle in it, with the perfect ratio of peanut butter and jelly, because at this point he has made that for you one too many times and he knew exactly how you liked it. 

“Thank you, babe.” you said while you both continued to stuff your faces. It was just too good to pass. 

*

Rúben almost found himself in tears during the training session at THE Etihad Campus because he didn’t perform the best way he knew he could. He’s had a couple of bad days but they’ve never led him to be so hysterical, he’s a born leader after all. 

“Oi, Rúben!” Kyle called him cautiously when Rúben walked into the locker room without saying anything to anyone, his gaze hard as he threw his soaking with sweat shirt quite furiously in his locker. 

“Rúben.” he calls him again, this time in a higher tone and he makes his way towards him “Rúben, take a deep breath in, lad. Chill man.” a choked sound comes out of Rúben’s throat as he sits down on the bench and Kyle stepped back to study him better. 

“I can’t breathe. Everything hurts. I’m not sleeping like I should and I wanna go back to drink another (caffeinated drink).” Rúben breathed out fast.

“You know if you were a girl I’d tell you you’re like this because of your hormones, your period or something.” Kyle jokes.

“Great! So I’m a man and I’m just crazy?” Rúben rolls his eyes while his friend shakes his head amused “And you have a wife for longer than me, Walks?!? You should know better than to say stuff like that.” 

“It’s one of the side effects of becoming a father, I’m telling you..been there, done that..three times.” Kyle shrugs. 

“Well it sucks.” Rúben grumbles almost immediately as he crosses his arms to his chest. 

“It’s worth it, I can assure you of that.” a little smile is born on both their faces. “Hey, but let me know when your morning sickness goes away, okay?” Rúben groans while Kyle laughs, after all it’s a bit funny. 

[bambisspeckles]

Disasterology {BD!Simon}

Chapter Three: No Plan

*pics for aesthetic purposes only

CW: angst, insecurities, probable misrepresentation of medical and military procedures, mentions of terminating pregnancy (this is the last time it will be mentioned), simon is actually so soft even though he's bein kinda mean, reader has anxiety, normal pregnancy stuff, mildly edited! lmk if i missed anything <3

WC: 1.8k (ahhh!)

Summary: The reality of the situation is starting to hit you as you finally come to the decision to keep the baby. Even if Simon is supporting you now, part of you wonders how long you can really trust him.

─── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ──────

A week later you and Simon are sitting in the waiting room of the obyn's office, anxiously awaiting your first ultrasound appointment. You're seeing Doctor Green again and that brings you some comfort, but it's not nearly enough to slow the pounding of your heart. You can tell Simon feels similarly by the anxious bouncing of his knee, his knuckles nearly white as he grips the fabric that covers his thighs.

You're not supposed to be here, you're not supposed to be in this position. It feels weird, strange, you don't think your brain can fully comprehend that you're about to get an ultrasound of your baby. Simon's baby too. You feel your face heat up a bit at the thought, somewhere deep down in all this madness, you were glad it was his. Of course, you know it's foolish, Simon most definitely doesn't want this baby, but you can't help the little flutter your heart gives.

Either way though, your parade is rained on fairly quickly.

During the following week, leading up to your appointment, Simon grew even more distant. You knew it was probably the shock of the news that was causing him to hermit into himself, but even then, seeing him pull further away from you cracked your heart a lot more than you want to admit. The kisses stopped, the frequent lingering touches stopped, the pet names stopped. It all stopped, everything stopped. You knew you weren't together, but at least before you could pretend to be.

It made every negative thought in your mind run rampant. You were constantly worried about him leaving, scared to death you'd wake up one day and your apartment would be empty, void of his presence. The night after you told him you were pregnant, he called his Captain, Price, and asked for leave. Apparently he gave it to Simon no questions asked and since then he's been staying with you.

He never sleeps with you anymore though.

A rough hand gently squeeze's yours, bringing you back to reality. Your head snaps towards Simon, eyes slightly wide like a deer caught in headlights.

"They called for us." They low timber of his voice washing over you like a soothing balm.

"Okay."

─── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ──────

This appointment was eerily similar to the first time you came to the clinic. Your stomach is agitated, though it might just be the baby, who knows at this point, your heart is pounding damn near out of your chest, and for the life of you, you can't stay fucking still. You're sure Simon is much the same though his balaclava hides most of the emotion on his face. You wish you could hide yours too.

When you enter the room Doctor Green has you sit on the edge of the medical bed so she can explain how the ultrasound will go. It's pretty straight forward in your eyes, they'll put some weird, cold gel on your lower stomach area, and then the ultrasound tech will use a fancy medical machine, a transducer as Doctor Green called it, to show you your baby. Simple enough.

"And, are you the father?" The question catches you off guard despite it being directed at Simon and your eyes flick over to him, his hulking figure seated in a tiny chair at the corner of the room.

He stares at her for a moment before looking at you and then back to her.

"Yes." He answer is short, curt, and Doctor Green grimaces a bit before plastering a smile back on her face.

"Well then it's wonderful you're here."

─── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ──────

The car ride home was uncomfortably silent and tense, a sonogram of your baby in hand. The ultrasound tech who actually conducted the procedure was a bit overly enthusiastic despite the biting energy of the room. She paid a great deal of attention to Simon even though you're the one who's pregnant. You tried to ignored nasty feeling that nagged at you when you thought of it.

You wonder if things had played out differently, if you would have left that appoint with a large grin smacked on your face. You wonder if Simon would place his large, rough hands onto your stomach, pride soaring through him, you wonder if the both of you would be happy together. Instead, there's an uncomfortable distance between the both of you despite being right next to each other. You sigh softly, swallowing back the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes, and look at the window, the late afternoon sky whipping past.

"Are you hungry?" Simon's voice slicing through the quiet startles you.

"What?" You turn your gaze from the outside to look at him.

"Said' are you hungry?" He repeats his words a bit slower this time, his eyes still planted on the road in front of him.

"Kinda…" Your voice quiet as you speak, worried if you raise it any louder it'll snap the tension that fills the car.

"Wha' d'you want?" His eyes quickly glancing over at your form next to him.

You let out a sigh, shrugging your shoulders before letting yourself lean against the car door once more.

"Dunno, nothing sounds or looks good to me anymore." He hums at your words.

"Can make somethin' for you…" There's a short pause before he speaks again. "My mum was like this when she was pregnant with tommy. Didn't want to eat anythin', had to get creative." The mention of his family shatters your heart a bit. You remember when he finally told you about them, about his family, when he told you what happened to them.

It's exactly the reason he didn't want to start another.

He clears his throat to draw your attention, your face getting a bit hot at the embarrassment of being caught staring.

"Sorry," you bit your bottom lip anxiously. "Yes, can cook something for me. I just can't promise I'll eat it." A small, cheeky smile pulls at your lips when you speak.

You fail to notice the way his eyes crinkle a bit when you smile softly, the perpetual frown you've had for days leaving your face for only a moment.

"Sure thing."

─── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ──────

This is the first real meal you've been able to stomach in at least two weeks, a quick unwanted grocery store trip was completely worth your time. When you arrived back at your apartment Simon immediately sent you off for a shower, instructing you to wash off whatever excess was on your stomach while he made dinner, and truly he didn't have to tell you twice.

Honestly this is the best you've felt in weeks, physically anyways, mentally you were still checked out but at least you weren't smelly or hungry anymore. You and Simon shared a meal for the first time in days, it was quiet, and a little tense, but it was a step towards… something. After dinner you had attempted to wash the dishes, a silent thanks for the meal, but Simon quickly forced you out of the kitchen with the low grumble of his voice. You shrugged him off before settling onto your couch, the sound of running water lulling you into a mental daze.

You sit on the couch in your dazed state for god knows how long, when suddenly the area next to you sinks beneath new weight.

"You ave' enough?" Your eyes meet his, still slightly glossed over as you nod. Your heart squeeze's a little at the question and you feel a bit silly for it.

Even with all the distance he still cares.

There's more silence for a while before Simon suddenly speaks again.

"I wan' you to move in with me, got more space in my flat n' a extra room." He pauses for a moment, and you assume he's trying to gauge your reaction, before he speaks again. "Plus I can take care of you better there."

His proposition shocks you a bit but you can't say you're completely surprised. Simon likes to be in control of his environment, he likes to he in control of what's his, and even if he won't say it out loud, you're his.

"Simon I can't do that… You need your space! I can't imagine moving in with a crying baby will make our situation any easier. Not to mention I'm not even sure I'm keeping the baby!" Simon releases an irritated sound, something low and deep.

"You want to though." You tilt your head in confusion. "You want to keep the baby, don't you?" His brows are furrowed, face now uncovered by his mask, he tilts his head to match you.

You do want to keep the baby and the guilts been eating at you for days now. You feel guilty for wanting something Simon doesn't, you feel guilty for wanting more. You feel guilty for the way your heart flutters when you think about having his child. Your fingers subconsciously reach down to pick at the threads of your shirt, tears welling in your eyes.

"Hey, get out of your head, none of tha', no cryin'." Simon's thumb traces over you cheek, subsequently wiping your tears away.

"How did you know?" Your words come out between sniffles. "How could you tell? I barely said anything, you've barely talked to me." Simon's thumb pauses on your face, a look of guilt crossing his features.

"I know when you want somethin'… Wasn' hard to tell." He removes his hand from your face, loosely shrugging his shoulders.

"I'm sorry.." Your voice coming out quiet as you speak.

"No." The hostility in his voice alarms you, he seems to take note of that and repeats his words slower. "No… I don' want you to apologize or feel guilty, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"Simon…" You bite your lip harshly, hoping the pain will stop more tears from spilling over.

"I…" He swallows thickly. "I'll take care of you. We'll get you're things n' move you into my flat. Can do whatever you wan' to make it feel like home." You want to tell him that anywhere is home as long as he's there but you refrain.

Simon's not a bad man, he's trying. You're sure he's damn near as scared as you but he's trying to push past all the walls he's put up for you. To be there for you. Even if he doesn't want to be with you, at least not in a romantic way, he's not cruel enough to leave you all on your own. You just have to trust him.

You scoot closer to Simon, and for the first time in weeks he welcomes you with open arms. The warmth of his body seeping into yours causes your eyelids to grow heavy, you shift against him but he just shushes you gently, holding you tighter against his body.

"Jus' sleep, I'll take care of everything."

He whispers the the words softly, his lips brushing against your forehead. They bring a comfort to you that you haven't felt in weeks, a salve that soothes the open wounds of your heart.

Maybe everything will be okay, even if it's just for a little while.

─── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ──────

ummm :3 hi! it took me like 3 days to write this idk why! anyways I love this story it's nice to have smth i'm proud of <3 ilysm mwah mwah! thank you for reading, likes and reblogs are appreciated assss always! take care of yourselves lovies <3

[beelsbignaturals]

HoL and their preferred cuddling styles?

AN: omg posting twice a day look at me go! I WAS gonna queue this but I have no patience sometimes. Also lmk if anyone is interested in a part two with the undateables!

😴SNUGGLY DEMONS💗

Lucifer wants to be the little spoon so damn bad but would rather die than admit it. Please just hold him. If you can ignore his grumbles of "Honestly, MC, I am not a child!" One of two things will happen. Either you let go, to which Luci will respond with an indignant. "I didn't say you could stop." Or if you are a little more persistent, after a small huff, Lucifer will relax in your arms. Regardless, you will have an all-powerful demon melting into your embrace by the end of it. He also enjoys when you plop yourself down on his lap while he deals with another never-ending mountain of paperwork. Don't worry, he's happy to work around you if you just promise to stay. It makes the long hours much more tolerable. 

Mammon loves resting his head on you, using your body as a pillow. Doesn't matter if it's your chest, thighs, stomach, or shoulder. You are the great Mammon's personal headrest. That is your sole purpose in life. Why does he like it so much? Well, aside from the fact it usually leads to your hands gently massaging his scalp, it also means he only has to tilt his head just a little to press a quick kiss to your skin. If you do the same, laying your head against him while watching a movie or just in general, Mammon will probably freeze for a moment before his hands find themselves in your hair. 

Leviathan is way too embarrassed and also just overwhelmed by physical contact at first. If you want any hope of something that resembles cuddling before you have managed to convince Levi you're not pretending to be into him as a joke, you will need to initiate. Try linking your arm through his while he is playing on his NintenDevil Switch. He'll short-circuit but recover when you say you just want to watch him play. He can only handle so much tactile stimulation before he taps out and needs to lay in the dark for 1-3 business days to recharge so please just… when he shakes you off without blushing and stuttering that's your cue to listen. Once Levi is comfortable enough with you to sleep in either your room or his bedtub, you become his replacement body pillow. Sometimes, he will subconsciously wrap his tail around you in his sleep.

Satan tends to sit in strange positions while reading so honestly, just… wherever you can fit. Find a way to squeeze into his arms without blocking the book, and you're golden. He's upside-down with his legs over the back of the couch? Lay your head on his stomach. Sitting like some sort of contortionist? Wrap your arms around him from behind. Sitting like a normal person for once? That is an invitation, my friend! It's his way of saying, "Get over here and cuddle me now or else." He tends to stay up late reading so… if you are the type to cuddle at night, I will pray for your poor spine.

Asmodeus loves you, but he needs space. Beauty sleep is important! If you share a bed, he wants to hold your hand to feel close to you, but he has to lay on his back so his overnight mask can do its thing without making a mess. You will just need to get by with entwining your fingers with his as you both drift off. He's happy to cuddle up with you any other time, though! If you are lounging anywhere, your lap is fair game for the Avatar of Lust. He can and will sit on your lap regardless of the situation. It's his favorite spot, after all. 

For practical reasons, Beelzebub prefers to cuddle you in a way that, when he inevitably gets up for a midnight snack, it won't disturb you too much. But if it won't bother you too much, he loves it when you lay on his chest. He will even go the extra mile and carry you along for his late night kitchen raids. He's strong enough that he can hold you in one arm and his food in the other. Also! Cuddling so that his arms are wrapped around you and you are curled up against him, facing the demon. For the love of all that is good in this world! Just let the man hold you! Beel is just a giant teddy bear. Like the one from ikea. Feel free to initiate cuddles any time, any place. Just watch out for an annoyed Belphie who is not impressed you took his spot as Beel's favorite cuddle buddy.

Belphegor moves around so much in his sleep. The ONLY way to stop this is to fully lay your entire weight on top of him. Like a living, breathing weighted blanket. Careful though, he might get so used to your presence that he will demand you join him because he's just oh so tired but he can't sleep without you sprawled out, completely crushing the demon underneath you. Alas, sometimes your efforts are for naught, and in the middle of the night, sloth incarnate has completely flipped the two of you. And… somehow, he's also upside-down? It's rather hard to sleep with a kneecap digging into your ribs. The picture you managed to get of Belphie hugging your legs like a teddy bear is totally worth it.

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

Sleep Little Angel, Sleep

Pairings: Castiel x Winchester!teen!reader

Imagine: you can’t sleep but Castiel is there to help

Warnings: angst?, sleep deprivation, mention of depression, mention of possession by a demon (not really), I think there’s one mention of the f-word, idk what else, mention of y/n if that’s a warning I have no clue if I’m honest

A/N just a short comfort fic for all you sleep deprived supernatural fans out there *cough* me *cough*, writing this actually helped me sleep so + to that I guess, bc this is kinda how it have been for me lately except I don’t have a Castiel to help me sleep. Which is why I haven’t posted/written anything in a while :) anyway hope you guys like it bc idk really and I hope you all have a good sleep tonight <3

As usual I put it down as teen reader but the reader can be older and Cas might be a bit OOC

You layed in bed, staring up at the ceiling, but at the same time nothing in particular. The sound of silence filled your ears and the occasional cars that drove past outside the window was a refreshing sound. Your tired eyes dropped but you couldn’t in any way sleep. It was for some unknown reason impossible.

For once your head was empty of thoughts. Nothing ran through your head. You didn’t have the constant race between hundreds of thoughts competing to be heard the most. Everything was silent.

The other people in the bunker were quiet, not even a sound from your brothers was heard, and they often stayed up longer than you did. It was too quiet. The cars only came one by one each hour or so in the unhealthy times of the night.

Sometimes you thought you were possessed by some demon making you feel this way, but you were pretty sure a demon possessing you would be more fun than the boredom of the night was giving you.

The tiredness that went through your whole body did nothing to help. You were exhausted, but still you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. It wasn’t intentional, you’d tried to sleep many times, but nothing seemed to ever work. So instead you continued to stare up at your sealing, there wasn’t much else to do at this time anyway.

It took another three hours, before you completely gave up. Turning on your side you checked the watch. Two in the morning. You didn’t entirely know how you could function by now, you hadn’t slept in three days, except for the one nap you accidentally took in the car while Dean drove to the store to pick up some pie if you remembered correctly. But that was days ago, maybe it had been more than three days ago, you didn’t quite know. The only thing you knew was that you were bored to death, sleep deprived and probably in one of your depressive episodes. But you could never be sure about the depression, it always lingered around the corner waiting to strike you down.

You wanted to go up and maybe take a night snack but it would wake your brothers up and you knew it wouldn’t help either. So you stayed in your laying position, still staring at the apparently interesting sealing. You noticed some new shapes that you swore hadn’t been there before, but maybe you notice more things the more you watch something. It was like when you watched a movie for the hundredth time and noticed something new. Except it would be more exciting to watch a movie than your sealing.

A few hours later, or maybe it was just a few minutes a flapping of wings was heard. Your eyes were still unmovable from tracing every dent and dusted corners of your sealing. It was most probably an angel who’d appeared in your room, and you couldn’t care less of who, if you were honest, maybe you could get an excuse to get up and do something exciting. However it turned out to be your favorite angel.

“Y/N, you need to sleep” Castiel’s voice rang out making you look at him, it was strange to hear something break the silence. Your irritated eyes were a bit glossy from not sleeping and Castiel noticed that the dark bags under your eyes were more prominent than ever. He and your brothers knew of your problem with sleeping but it seemed you never tried to get help from them, or to even get some of those sleeping pills. You’d always shrug it off saying you were fine, that you weren’t tired, or for those occasional days you told them you were tired they’d make sure you slept in the car, but those rarely happened anymore. Castiel had sensed your tiredness, and when he’d have to save you from a vampire he knew he needed to help you, but you had shut him out. The angel didn’t want to force you to sleep but if that was what it took to make sure you were sleeping and taking care of yourself he would.

“I know Cas, I just, I can’t” you paused before your voice cracked a bit at your next words “I’m so fucking tired Cas, I, I don’t know what to do”

Castiel walked closer to your bed until he was right next to it. A bit uncharacteristically of him he bent down and tilted his head while he took in your appearance from a closer view. “Let me help you” his blue eyes stared into yours and you closed your eyes for a second, which caused a new wave of tiredness to crash through you.

“Will you stay here” why you asked you weren’t quite sure, but you did anyway and got a nod from your favorite angel. You knew what he meant by helping you. You’d seen him do it to Dean a lot of times, but you had never brought yourself to ask Cas to do it on you. It felt strange and wrong, but at the moment you didn’t care, you were too exhausted. Sleep would be your only release and nothing in you seemed to be willing to give it to you. Maybe that’s why you wanted him to stay, so that he could protect you when you were in a deep sleep that you wouldn’t wake up from in a while. So that he could wake you if anything went wrong.

“I will stay, I promise, I’ll be right beside you when you wake up” with that you gave him a nod and he gently put two of his fingers on your forehead. It didn’t take long for sleep to take over you. Exhaustion and tiredness took over your whole being in one sweep and your eyes closed. You could finally get your release from the life you lived. You could finally rest for a while, You would for once not be exhausted when you woke up.

However before you fell asleep you heard Castiel softly murmur in a whisper “Sleep little angel for nothing will come your way tonight, sleep and dream of sweet dreams”

True to his word Castiel stayed by your side, he made sure no nightmares came your way, and you slept peacefully for the first time in a while. You slept for the first time in a while, and Cas woved he wouldn’t let it go further than this again. He would protect his baby angel if it so was the last thing he did, and to make sure you slept was only one part of it.

[buzzzlove]

K

It's cold without you

What was that? Something was tugging on the blanket wrapped around you. You were only half awake so it didn't register as something strange in your brain yet. You yank the blanket back and it stopped momentarily. Just as sleep grabbed you again, you felt the same tug. Huffing, you turned around to confront whatever it was. Only to be faced with your boyfriend's bedhead. His lips were in a small pout and he had the edge of your blanket in his hand.

"Kei? What are you doing?" you mumbled as you rubbed your eyes, trying to make sense of what you were seeing.

You were met with silence though since your boyfriend just lowered his gaze to his hands.

"Baby?" you tried again.

This made his head shoot up to catch your eyes. The petname made his heart flutter a little bit. The two of you were fighting a few hours earlier and he had said he would sleep on the couch, knowing you needed some time on your own. The fact that you still called him 'baby' gave him hope you weren't too angry anymore.

"Uh," he started off in a very soft voice, "I was kind of getting cold without you and thought, uh, that I would just come to you." Kei's gaze never stayed on yours for too long. His eyes flickered between the blanket, you, his hands, and the ceiling. "But I didn't want to wake you up," his eyes found yours for a second, "Sorry." And they were gone again.

You have been sitting in the same position the entire time, just taking in your boyfriend's words. You felt each bit of anger melting away the longer he spoke and by the end, you just wanted to pull him closer. But you held back, not wanting to scare him.

"It's okay. I didn't get much sleep without you either," you said with a small puff.

His concerned eyes found you quickly and stayed on your features this time. "You should have called me," he mumbled out as he lowered himself onto his side of the bed.

You stayed silent, deciding to just take his hand instead. His hand, much bigger than yours, interlocked with your hand and he gave you a small smile. You would have missed it, had you not been looking so intently at his face.

"Can we go to sleep now?" you asked, pulling him closer.

"Yes, my love, we can," his face broke into a grin as he moved closer to you.

You opened the blanket and he settled next to you. Before you knew it, he pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He was basically squishing you, but you didn't dare complain. You gave him a kiss on his collarbone and snuggled closer to him, sighing happily.

A few seconds later you felt his body finally relax against you. He was really worried when he came into the room, not knowing what to expect. It wasn't a massive argument but he never liked feeling that way. He hated when he was the reason that you were upset.

"You know I love you right?" you managed to mumble out, feeling how sleepy you were getting.

He planted a kiss on your head before he said, "I know baby. I love you too. More than you know."

You squeezed his waist in response. Finally comfy and feeling sleep starting to take over, the two of you drifted off together.

[mlmxreader]

Cat Person | Simon Ghost Riley x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ "I think if you stay, something bad will happen. I think I might hurt you. You don't want to get hurt, do you?" lipbite I see werewolf! Ghost potential here. (0_0) The tension…. ❞

: ̗̀➛ when Simon returns, he's different, strange. He's shutting you out and you don't know why.

: ̗̀➛ body horror, gore, monsters, swearing

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Simon had been distant, far too distant, and although you did your best to try and win him back, to try and make up for whatever mistake you had made, he just wasn’t responding; conversations that were once long and full of dry, sarcastic humour were now little more than an “alright?” followed by a curt nod before he disappeared again.

You didn’t understand it in the slightest, wondering what you had done wrong. Wondering how you had hurt him so badly that he wouldn’t even look at you anymore. Had you really been so cruel to him without knowing?

Had you really hurt him so bad without noticing?

Nobody could help you, either, and even Gaz - your own step brother - didn’t have a clue what was going on; although he did admit that Simon’s mood had been soured with everyone lately, not just you.

Ever since Simon had returned from the arête of Crib Goch, something had soured him on everybody; he was moody, didn’t sleep much, constantly sweating like he had a fever and it never mattered how much he washed and put deodorant on, he still stank something awful.

He was irritable, snappy and snippy all the same; he was… different.

There was something in his eyes that was different, odd; Price had said it could have been because of the animal attack, but everyone was more than confused by that - there were no large animals at Crib Goch, not unless someone put them there on purpose.

Maybe a private collector who didn’t find any care for them anymore, maybe escapees from a zoo but… but if that had happened, there would have been news reports, and no one had seen such a thing.

There was something that Simon wasn’t telling everyone, and it was both jarring and worrisome; but as his partner, you thought he would have so much as tried to talk to you, not just completely brushed you off. 

But Simon would never tell anyone what had happened on that arête, he could never, it was too unbelievable, too silly of a story and he wasn’t even entirely sure it had happened anyway.

Sure, his memory up until after the attack was clear enough, but that wasn’t good enough; Simon knew that the human mind could play tricks to protect itself - making him watch himself do things, feeling like he wasn’t actually solid matter or that the people around him weren’t actually real.

He had experienced all of that ten times over, he was no stranger to the lengths the human brain would go to to try and protect itself, to try and cope with trauma.

He wasn’t fucking stupid; he knew that positive psychotic symptoms, derealisation, dissociation - they could all happen after events like what he had been through.

But even he couldn’t be absolutely sure about what had happened.

But it did seem… so real. It really did. 

He was going along the pyg track, painfully aware of the fragility of certain rocks to his left as he trudged on forward; he could feel something watching him, but at the time, he had assumed that it was little more than a bird of prey nearby searching for a mouse or something, he didn’t think much of it.

Crib Goch was a relatively safe place, no human would have followed him at least; yet there had been several sightings lately, all within the Yr Wyddfa area… big wild cats, pumas and the like. Simon didn’t believe them all too much, chalking it down to the human mind playing tricks; it was probably just a stray dog or something, if anything.

But something had been watching him on that track, something had been following him. Had he known then what he knew now, he would have turned around and ran back to the car.

He didn’t make it more than another metre, before something thudded into his back, pinning him down with heavy round hands, more like paws really.

A ghastly growl echoing through the dark skies before something bit down on his leg, a set of sharp and pointed teeth, tearing through his muscle tissue with ease; he had called out, squirming and doing his best to fight whatever was attacking him - his free leg hit something heavy, and he managed to wriggle forward before grabbing the leg of whatever was at his back and throwing it as hard as he could.

He had no idea what the fuck he had seen, all he caught a glimpse of was something… on all fours. But that could have been because of anything. 

But since then, there had been some… strange goings on. Things that the doctors and GPs he saw couldn’t explain. Constant sweating, like he had a fever. Yet his body temperature was always normal when they took it.

Itching deep within his bones all over his body, so hard to ignore that it hurt when he didn’t scratch at it; his arms littered with deep, yellow scabs that were so thick they cracked open and let out spurts of blood when he bent his arms.

His joints ached, as if they were trapped by the flesh of his body.

He couldn’t sleep during the night, like his natural body clock had somehow reversed itself completely without him knowing. He craved meat constantly, even the mere mention of blood making his stomach growl loudly; it didn’t matter how much he ate… and his teeth.

Oh, how his teeth stung and sharply throbbed, like they were trying to push themselves out of his mouth constantly. Yet, the dentist could not find a cause; considering his lack of dental treatment due to his finances, his teeth were good. There was no reason that his teeth should have hurt like that.

He was constantly overwhelmed by everything; scents were much stronger, much more harsh on his nose and made him easily wince. Lights of all kinds hurt his eyes, making them sting. Every texture felt awful. 

Home alone for the night, as you were helping Gaz move into his new flat and you were going to spend the night so that you could have a film night like you used to when you were children, Simon couldn’t rest.

Something felt… wrong. His stomach kept squirming, moving around the cavern beneath his ribs constantly, refusing to settle. He could hear his heartbeat hammering in his chest, loud and faster than usual. He was out of breath, sweating profusely even though he had long ago stripped down to nothing and opened all the windows.

He could feel his heart throbbing in his throat, making him sit in still silence for a moment as he swallowed thickly and wondered what the fuck was going on; maybe it was dehydration, he wondered, but when he dared to stand, he was quickly brought to his knees as a shooting pain coursed through every single nerve and muscle in his body.

His teeth.

They were stretching, cracking loudly as they forced themselves to elongate. The front four, so sharp that they poked into his chin like needles. The back, shorter but wider.

His gums bled, forcing him to spit a puddle of bile-laced blood onto the floor as he whimpered softly, reaching up to cup his jaw as he cried softly. Blood trickled from his teeth, forcing him to weep as he wished for it to end. Agony.

He got no relief, though, as his skull creaked and ground against itself harshly, becoming more oval shaped, a blunt muzzle sitting at the end of his face; he wanted to scream, but it came out as mere garbles and chokes. His head was throbbing, but at least the teeth weren’t digging into his chin anymore.

His fingers twisted and curled, the bones pulsing through the flesh with ease, rendering the muscles and skin limp and lifeless. His hands were shaking as his fingers sunk into themselves slightly at the mid finger knuckles, the bones falling black and dead onto the floor with a soft clatter; his hands didn’t even look like hands anymore, rounded and resembling something more like an animal than an ape.

Yet, at the mid finger knuckles, something sharp and scathing pushed through from where the dead bones were; coated in something sticky and slick, they dug into the floor, leaving long scratch marks where Simon struggled against every single change.

He collapsed onto his side, sobbing pitifully as his legs and arms twisted and rippled, lengthening; his shoulder blades rested further towards his spine. His legs moved so that the bones would no longer allow him to walk upright. Forced to walk like a beast.

He wept. He wanted to die.

His ears crunched as they moved upwards, the top of his skull. Something hard and long ripped through his lower back, making him buck and wriggle as he tried to get away from it. Simon was running out of breath, running out of the will to keep going as he sighed and tried to catch his breath.

His eyes squished and squelched, becoming rounder, once dark brown, now harsh yellow. Silently, Simon prayed for death. For it all to end. But it wouldn’t. Something light and stringy licked at the undersides of his skin, making him itch terribly as he squirmed to try and find some relief.

Small stinging nettles slowly pushing through his skin, flicking bits of blood across the floor as they did so. It was a yellowish brown colour on one side, almost white on the other; the backs of his ears were black with a singular white spot in the middle of each. Splodges of black formed circles across his body, containing bits of brown inside of them. 

It seemed like hours before Simon could actually move again, every joint and every muscle aching and sharply stinging; he kept trying to stand up, but all it did was cause long scratch marks to become embedded on the surfaces he tried to pull himself up on.

He managed to make it to the hallway, and a sharp gargle left the back of his throat when he saw his appearance in the mirror; no, no, no, no. It wasn’t real.

No. No, it couldn’t have been. No. Such things didn’t exist, absolutely not.

He was just dreaming. Yeah, that was it - he was just dreaming. He paced around, trying to find various ways of waking himself up; running headfirst into the door, slamming his already painful muzzle into the cupboards.

But nothing worked. Nothing was fucking working.

He gave up, curling up on the sofa as he decided that, maybe, if he fell asleep in his nightmare, he would wake up. 

The flick of a lightswitch made him stand up, a harsh growl from the back of his throat as he dug into the soft cushions of the sofa; he never made that sound before. He never remembered the sofa cushions ever being so easily torn through.

“What the fuck?!” You yelled, staring at the beast on your sofa. “What the fuck is this shit?!”

Simon tilted his head to the side, then looked down at the sofa cushions; his feet were the way they had been when he fell asleep, and those awful and long claws were embedded in the sofa cushions. He shook his head, no.

No, no, no, no, no. No.

He looked at you, a deep and frantic chuffing noise coming from his throat even though he was hoping that he could actually form words; you looked horrified, but he continued to try, the noise becoming louder and louder. 

Fuck it.

He leapt off of the sofa, headed into the bedroom and went straight for the drawer; using his maw, he managed to drag it open, and easily picked up what he was looking for.

He had bought it for you a long time ago, and knew that you would know it was him. He dropped it at your feet, then took a few steps back as you picked it up.

Examining it, you chewed at your bottom lip, and then glared over at the beast. “Si… Simon?”

He nodded.

“Oh, what the fuck?!” You sounded exhausted. “Every day is some new fucking bullshit with you lot, I swear - first, Gaz ends up being called back to our family’s house because there’s a fucking leak and he knows about plumbing, so my film night was fucking ruined! Then! I come home and find my fucking boyfriend is - what? A fucking panther?!” 

Another chuffing sound, and you glared at him.

“You think this is funny?!” You scoffed. A nod. “Simon, you’re a fucking bastard.”

You scoffed, shaking your head; but you allowed Simon to stay close, still a little on edge to have a whole fucking big cat right at your side, but if you were honest?

When you fell asleep cuddled into him like a big teddy bear, you slept like a baby. You trusted him enough to fall asleep like that, cuddled into him knowing that he wouldn’t hurt you; but Simon felt differently.

He didn’t trust himself, didn’t trust his new instincts and didn’t trust what was happening to him. He couldn’t. There was no telling what he would do to you - he was a beast, a wild animal. He couldn’t trust himself. 

He slipped away before you woke up, leaving you alone and cold amongst the duvet and pillows, hoping that he could get far enough from you; but it only took a couple of hours before you found him again, naked as the day he was born and sitting at the riverbank. You frowned, setting a bag between his legs and nudging him gently. 

“I figured you could use these… I noticed your shit was all over our floors…”

Simon hummed, shaking his head. “You should go.”

“Why?”

“Because I think if you stay, something bad will happen,” he said quietly, roughly. “I think I might hurt you. You don’t want to get hurt, do you?”

You shook your head, sitting down beside him and resting your head on his shoulder as you looked out at the river. “Simon… I love you. I trust you. I know you’d never hurt me, even by accident… I’m your partner for a reason. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I could kill you,” he muttered. 

“I don’t care,” you hummed. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Reluctantly, Simon opened the bag, and quickly grabbed the clothes; he was getting cold, and the scabs and scars littering his body were starting to turn a lightish purple colour. But when he sat back down, he kept his distance from you, and shook his head. “Please. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Simon,” you sighed, daring to move a little closer. “I sleep next to you every night. I stand behind you while you’re cooking. I sit next to you at the dinner table every time. You’ve never so much as accidentally flicked me… do you really think I think you’d hurt me?”

“I can’t trust myself.”

“You trust me though, don’t you?” You asked, and when he nodded slowly, you dared to smile. “So trust me now… please? Even just a little bit?”

“Okay,” he agreed quietly.

“Don’t shut me out again,” you told him, shaking your head a little. “Please?”

Simon nodded again. “I just never thought you were a cat person.”

[creative-heart]

"Love's Blossom"| Enzo Vogrincic

Chapter 3: “Hope’s Flicker”

Lucia’s Notes: First off, I wanna say thank you for holding on and waiting for me, this whole moving thing has been way harder than I expected, and trying to balance work and this new life and city hasn’t been easy. But Alass! I have been able to get back into writing! 

CONTENT WARNINGS: This one has major warnings for miscarriages; fighting/arguing and general tension (I’m sorry but angst is what I do best LOL). Grief and mourning. I promise it will get better, probably next chapter!  Word Count: 2.7K

Song for this chapter: "I will carry you"- Selah

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, both Enzo and Y/N could feel the tension growing tougher and tougher between them. They were on the fifth cycle of trying to get pregnant and each month, the single blue line would dig a deeper well between them, the sex started to feel like a duty they had to fulfill, a routine, they were certainly not enjoying it anymore. When they looked at yet another negative test one afternoon and Y/N excited the bathroom without uttering a single word, it all started to go downhill. They were both anxious, irritated, and, overall sad that it had been almost six months since they had started trying to have a baby with no success. Y/N had even started wondering if maybe there was something wrong with her. 

Arguments over the smallest things were not strange now when they had never had a serious fight before in all their years together. One evening, as he had been trying to do all the same to try and get his girlfriend out more Enzo walked into their bedroom and smiled “Hey love, I was thinking maybe we could go to the movies and then for some dinner? the Thai restaurant you love has added some new dishes to their menu and I thought we could try them?” Y/N glared at him from her curled-up position in bed putting her phone down for just a second.

“it’s almost 9 pm Enzo, really you wanna go out now? you know I need to sleep well if we want to try and get any chances of having a baby, and Thai food? it’s spicy, same thing! are you really on board with this? or are you trying to sabotage it? Just let me know so I can stop fucking worrying about it!” The brunette snapped at the older guy who stood at the doorway looking at her blinking. “You truly have gone mad woman, I was just trying to get you out of that fucking bed and showered, you smell, you haven’t gotten up in three days and I’m fucking worried, but have it your way! I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight! I’m tired of being your damn punching ball! Do you think this doesn’t affect me? I want to have a baby just as much as you do, and it hurts me seeing you this sad, so if you wanna blame someone, blame God, the Universe, or whatever you want, but not me!” 

The raven-haired guy turned around and walked to the guest room taking a deep breath, he wondered if he had maybe taken it a bit too far, but the truth was he was tired of being at the receiving end of his girlfriend’s anger. As much as he could understand how she must be feeling and how draining this whole process had been for her, he knew he didn’t deserve this, he’d been as supportive as possible, and he had put his sadness to the side to hold her in her worst moments. Enzo was tired, if this didn’t work soon, he wouldn’t put it past them to either look at other options or end up separating.

The days went by slowly, and Y/N looked at her calendar once more frowning before looking at her boyfriend, things hadn’t been the best since that argument, but they both tried putting on a brave face “I should have gotten my period a week ago…should I?” she bit her lip hard, the truth was she knew she should test, but she couldn’t take another negative. Enzo looked up from his book and looked at her “A week? I think it’s worth it, I’ll look at it for you if you want me to.” He kissed her head before getting up and offering her a hand. Y/N took a deep breath before taking his hand. Just that morning they had been talking about the possibility of visiting a fertility doctor, maybe there was something wrong with them and they needed some help to get pregnant.

The younger went by the steps mechanically, she had done this way too many times these past few months. After taking the test she put it back down on the bathroom sink counter and covered it up before walking out of the bathroom and looking at her boyfriend with pleading eyes. “I can’t look” He nodded and kissed her forehead long “I’ve got you baby” he whispered and walked into the room closing the door behind his back. He took a deep breath, it wasn’t like it was easy for him, but he would take all the pain in the world if it meant easing the weight off the love of his life’s shoulders at least a little bit. The Uruguayan stared at the test as it processed, he knew they took three minutes, but he’d go insane if he did anything else. He blinked repeatedly when he saw the result start to show on the little screen, was he hallucinating? maybe he was, but he saw the two lines clear as day. Enzo grabbed the test and swung the bathroom door open to find a crunched-down Y/N on the other end of the hallway chewing at her lips. She looked up when she heard the door and sighed seeing the tears in her boyfriend’s eyes and thinking that yet again it was negative and letting herself slide down the wall “Maybe we should just stop trying and go see an adoption agency or something” she mumbled.

Enzo smiled big at her “Oh, stop trying we will..but because I’m scared I’ll hurt my baby if I poke into you with my dick…it’s positive my love!” he chuckled letting the tears roam freely down his face, Y/N’s face shot up when she heard him saying those words. “You’re not joking, are you? please tell me it’s not another one of your jokes because I’ll kill you if it is” The girl took the hand being offered to her to get up from the floor and looked at the stick Enzo showed her, her breath catching in the back of her throat, eyes wide open with shock and surprise as she kept her eyes glued to the two blue lines on the screen “I’m pregnant” she whispered “this is actually happening”, her hands flying to her stomach instinctively as protection.

After the initial shock had worn off and they cuddled on the couch, Y/N laying in Enzo’s arms as his hands rubbed her lower tummy gently she whispered, “I don’t think I wanna tell anyone yet, I want to go see my doctor, make sure everything is okay and once we’re out of the first trimester, let people in on our little secret, I want this to be our moment”. Enzo hummed softly keeping his eyes closed as they were, the same smile he had when he found out still plastered on his face, “Alright my love, whatever makes you feel more secure and at ease, I’m here to support your every decision, you know that”.

After what felt like an eternity, they were finally called in by the doctor. Y/N explained the whole situation when she found out, when her last period had been, and how the journey had been going the whole show. As her doctor nodded taking notes on her laptop Enzo sat beside the brunette his hand never leaving her knee as his leg bounced anxiously. “Okay, so by the dates you gave me, I’m assuming you might be around 6 weeks along, but I wanna get an ultrasound to be sure and to hear the baby’s heartbeat as well, make sure everything’s going as it should and give you both the first glance at your little pea because that’s around the size this little one will be right now”. She guided them both over to the stretcher and handed Y/N a gown as she turned the machine on “I’m going to go grab some more paper towels while you get changed into the robe okay?” she said exiting the room. Y/N nodded and when she was gone proceeded to take her clothes off from the waist down and put on the gown before laying down on the bed “Wait a second, why are you butt naked?” Enzo frowned confused, his brow deepening at his girlfriend’s laughter “from what I’ve read, baby is still too small to be seen with a normal outdoor ultrasound, so the doctor will have to use this little thing here and insert it in my lady bits to be able to get a look at our little one” she pointed to the internal prove. As she looked at the tan-skinned man’s face her laughter got louder seeing his horrified face.

Shortly after, the doctor returned and started the ultrasound checking everything was as it should. “Okay, images seem to confirm what I thought, you’re around six weeks along, embryo looks healthy, let’s try and hear the heartbeat okay?” she turned on the sound on the machine, and sure enough, a rapid thud came flowing out of the machine. Enzo, who hadn’t let go of Y/N’s hand for one second since the ultrasound started, kissed the back of her hand before quickly wiping his tears, that was his baby’s heartbeat, a real baby, half him, half the love of his life, he couldn’t be happier.  

As the days went by, Y/N was surely feeling the symptoms of this pregnancy, her boobs were killing her, she felt tired all the time, she was starving and nauseated all at the same time so everything she ate made her feel sick. Most of her days were spent laying on the couch watching TV or in bed curled with a good book. Enzo preferred it that way, not like he enjoyed seeing her feel bad, but her being lying down gave him a sense of peace about her and the baby being okay which he enjoyed.

Things were going smoothly, even their relationship had gotten stronger, they were both ecstatic and over the moon about this little one on the way. They knew it was still early to consider being out of the blue, but they couldn’t help but start fantasizing about what the baby would look like, if they would have Enzo’s brown eyes, or Y/N’s hazel ones, who their features would take after, what the baby’s temper would be like. So when around Y/N’s eleventh week of gestation, Enzo had to get out of town for a week or so to do a photo shoot for a new movie he was going to start working on the brunette encouraged him to go, she was going to be just fine on her own.

One hot summer afternoon Y/N hurried through the aisles of the grocery store, her shopping list clutched tightly in her hand. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a harsh glow on the rows of products. She had been feeling a bit off all day but chalked it up to the usual pregnancy symptoms. After all, at eleven weeks along, she was still adjusting to the constant waves of nausea and fatigue that had been bothering her for almost three months.

As she reached for a box of cereal, a sudden, sharp pain pierced her abdomen. She gasped, doubling over and clutching her stomach. The pain was intense, like a knife twisting deep inside her. She took a few shallow breaths, trying to steady herself. “Are you okay, ma’am?” A concerned voice broke through her haze of pain. A young store employee. who couldn’t be older than 19  stood nearby, his eyes wide with worry.Y/N nodded weakly, though she wasn’t sure she believed it herself. “Just a cramp, I think,” she managed to say, forcing a smile. But as she straightened up, she felt something wet and warm trickling down her leg. Her heart pounded in her chest as she glanced down, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of blood seeping down her sundress. Panic surged through her, and she grabbed the edge of the shelf to steady herself.

“I need to get to the hospital,” she said, her voice trembling. The employee’s face paled, and he quickly called for help. Within minutes, another employee arrived with a wheelchair and helped Y/N into it. They wheeled her to the front of the store, where an ambulance was already pulling up. The paramedics moved quickly, transferring her to a stretcher and into the back of the ambulance and all she could think of was needing Enzo by her side. Tears streamed down Y/N’s face as the sirens wailed, the pain in her abdomen growing worse with each passing second. The paramedics spoke in low, urgent tones, their faces grim. She clutched her belly, whispering prayers for her baby, fear gripping her heart.

At the ER, the chaos was immediate. Nurses and doctors swarmed around her, asking questions and starting IV lines. Y/N could barely focus on their words, her mind spinning with terror and grief she didn’t know when, but amid all that chaos, she could utter to the nurse beside her to call her emergency contact on her phone. They whisked her into an exam room, and a kind-faced doctor leaned over her, explaining that they needed to do an ultrasound. The room fell silent as the doctor moved the wand over her abdomen. Y/N stared at the monitor, her vision blurred by tears. She knew, even before the doctor spoke in the deepest pit of her heart, what the outcome would be. The absence of the tiny, flickering heartbeat on the screen confirmed her worst fear.

“I’m so sorry,” the doctor said softly, his eyes full of compassion. “You’re having a miscarriage.” The brunette wasn’t even sure she understood English when the doctor spoke, his words sounded foreign and distant.Y/N’s world shattered in that moment. The room seemed to close in around her, the sounds of the hospital fading to a distant hum. She felt a sob rise in her throat, and she let it out, a wail of pure anguish that echoed through the sterile room. The nurse beside her squeezed her hand, offering what little comfort she could.

Hours later, Y/N lay in a hospital bed, the pain in her body now dulled by medication but the ache in her heart raw and relentless. The room was quiet, save for the occasional beep of the monitor. She stared at the ceiling, feeling hollow and empty. The loss was overwhelming, a black hole of grief and pain. She had never imagined this could happen, had never prepared for this kind of heartbreak. The future she had envisioned for herself and her family had been ripped away in an instant. That’s when she felt the tight grip on her hand and the familiar warmth inside her when Enzo kissed her forehead long, he wasn’t even trying to hide his tears. As soon as he received that call from an unknown number hours earlier, he knew, he knew in his gut something was wrong with Y/N, and when he heard the nurse say in that grim tone the words girlfriend, hospital, baby, he knew, he couldn’t hear anything else he hopped on the first plane that would take him home and 5 hours earlier, he was next to the love of his life, she looked as if she wasn’t there, it was like he was holding a mannequin’s hand, but he was there and Enzo knew she could feel him beside her. “I’m sorry for leaving you, I should have never gone” he whispered closing his eyes, he felt so guilty about it, as if this somehow was his fault.

But even in the depths of his sorrow, a small, fragile part of him held onto hope. Enzo knew the road ahead would be long and difficult, especially for Y/N, but he was determined to make sure they would survive this, to find a way to heal. For now, though, he allowed themselves to grieve, to mourn the loss of the little life they had already loved so dearly.

P.S: This got way darker and personal than I had anticipated, but I like the way it came out. I will try and get to writing the next one today as well, to make sure it gets on here ASAP because I don’t want to leave you all on a down note for too long! I promise the flood of fluff coming your way with this will make up for this darker tone. As usual, your likes, comments and reblogs are super nice and encouraging to receive, I will not ask for a certain amount, but I do really enjoy the interactions. If you wanna be part of the taglist, please just comment so down here and I'll make sure to add you to it. 😘😘😘

Taglist: @madame-fear @lastflowrr @koiibiito @luceracastro @candycanes19 @castawaycherry @deepinsideyourbeing @cyliarys-starlight @lxdyred @chiquititamia @expensivechimmy @nperoconelcositoarriba

[urathestardragon777]

AdamsApple Unrequited Love AU pt 2/??

It was early in the morning, earlier than anyone else in the hotel was up maybe except for that deer bastard but he was no where to be seen so Adam didn't see any point in worrying about the annoying fucker. He was always an early morning person, even in Heaven, even when he was still alive. He rose before the sun to do his chores and to just have time to himself, he hated how comfortable everyone in the hotel was becoming with him, how they included him into more of their activities and conversations; but, no one else was up to bother him, even his sweet beloved daughters who had become even more clingy since they all reincarnated in Hell.

The old angel made his way to the backyard of the hotel, it was an ugly plot of land with weeds and overgrown bushes and other Hell flowers, it was unkempt and wild and Adam loved it, he loved the strange looking foliage and how it seemed to mimic the plant life on earth. Often he would come out and sketch all the different plants and coming up with names for them but today wasn't the morning for it -no- today was yoga day. Even if he no longer fought through the hoards of Hell didn't mean he couldn't stay in shape and he has let himself go these past couple of centuries, he also missed his six pack.

Just as he went to put his mat down the back door was thrown open followed by a loud yawn.

"Beautiful morning isn't!? Nice and quiet!"

Adam let out a loud growl to let the person know that they were not wanted. At. All.

Said person ignored the warning growl and walked closer. "The air is practically filled with brimstone and the screams of the damned." They nosily slurped their drink, invading Adam's personal space, "Please, don't let me stop you."

Adam: Get lost Samael.

He snarled louder at the shorter man.

Lucifer: Don't be rude Addy, it's too early in the morning to be a meany.

Adam: There's never good time to see your stupid face. Now, leave me alone.

Adam sat down in lotus pose and closed his eyes, he wasn't going to feed into the bullshit, wasn't going to give Lucifer that kind of power of him. He clenched his fist as the fallen angel sat down next to him. It took everything in the bull demon not to punch the goat-faced fucker in his dumb reptile face. Like really!- how did he look like both at the same time, it was weird and Adam always got the urge just to claw the other demon's face off.

Lucifer: Do you do this every morning? Are you always up this early or could you not sleep? Nightmare? It had to be nightmares, probably about-

Adam used his wing to cover Lucifer's mouth.

Adam: I'm only going to tell you this one time, you can either fuck off or because I know you're an annoying jerk you can stay and be quiet. Which means do not talk.

He moved his wing and sighed when nothing came out the Devil's mouth. The silence lasted longer than he thought, he was able to get through his warm up breathing and stretching it was when he got to cow face pose the talking started again.

Lucifer: Wow, you are really flexible aren't you? Have you always been that bendy?

Adam: What did I say, Samael?

Lucifer: I'm just trying to talk with an old friend, is that so bad?

Adam: We are not friends.

Lucifer: But we can be, if you stop being a grumpy bull~.

Lucifer poked Adam in his side. Adam once again used a wing this time to smack Lucifer in the head as he went back into a normal sitting position.

Lucifer: Oow! What was that for?

Adam: Why are you here Samael?

Lucifer: It's Lucifer, and I told you: I want to talk with an old friend, be friends again maybe?

Adam let out a short, unamused laugh as he turned to face Lucifer.

Adam: What makes you think we can be friends after what you've done?

Lucifer: Because it's all in the past Adam, it's been what a million years since Eden?

Adam: You cursed me and my family for the rest of time, and seduced my wives.

His wings flared out in anger. Lucifer curls in on himself slightly, he wasn't afraid of Adam but when the first man looked down on him, eyes gleaming with anger and fury that whole 'Made in His image' thing shone through. Funny enough, it was now Adam's inhuman features that made him look even more like God, it was weird and thrilling at the same time so Lucifer like always pushed forward, testing the waters.

Lucifer: And I deeply regret that, I really do! But, I gave you freedom, the chance not be stuck under His thumb, the chance to be great.

Adam: You almost killed me.

Lucifer: How was i supposed to know you were allergic to apples?

Adam: You fucker, it's been logged in my throat for eons!

Adam points to the lump in his throat ironically right under his adams apple. Lucifer has enough decency to look ashamed.

Adam: What do you really want from me?

Lucifer placed a clawed hand on top of Adam's much, much larger hand and looked up with a soft look.

Lucifer: I want us to start over and try again.

He reached up with his other hand and gently turned Adam's face so they were looking at one another.

Lucifer: I want you. Please Adam.

Adam took a moment to study Lucifer, he was small and dainty (always had been), he didn't look much different than he had in Eden. In Eden he was more bird like, Adam always joked that the angel reminded him of a cockatrice but when he first laid eyes on Lucifer it was like his first time seeing a swan fly just above a lake. His wing were pure white and shimmered in the sun, his hair was longer, like beams of light, eyes blue and clear. Even now there was something alluring about the fallen Seraphim, he was feminine yet masculine, timid yet bold, there was false innocence wrapped in sly seductive silk. Adam could see how Lilith and Eve and many others were lured in by the Serpent but Adam could see past the mesmerizing shiny scales disguised as jewels, he saw the fangs dipped in honeyed poison. Had been bitten by them before and would not suffer that pain again even though it would be so easy to let the venom flow through his veins and let himself be swept away by the siren's song.

He pushed Lucifer back down from where the man had climbed into his lap. Lucifer looked confused.

Lucifer: Adam?

Adam: I'm not something to own.

Lucifer: I never said you were.

Adam: Or something to check off your list, you got Lilith and Eve guess I'm the only one left you haven't slept with.

Lucifer: You're so much more than that to me Adam! You've always been someone precious to me.

Adam wanted to pull his hair out! Lucifer was a walking ball of contradiction, he didn't understand the man at all, didn't understand how you could hurt someone you consider precious so many times, then rub it in their face at every chance. How many times had he bragged about how easy it was to get Lilith and Eve to cheat and betray Adam? How many times had Lucifer made fun of him for being a devoted follower of God? He literally nearly beat Adam to death, yeah it was to protect his daughter but what about all the children Adam lost to Lucifer because of that fucking apple? Why was he not justified in being furious and vengeful?

With a frustrated snarl Adam shoved Lucifer to the ground with the shorter man's thin wrist traped in one of his hands, the other one used to keep himself propped up, his large bulky body caged Lucifer in and bathed him in shadows. He was sick of Lucifer playing with his emotions, sick of feeling like he was powerless, he wasn't a weak human anymore, hadn't been for a long time. He didn't know what kind of game Lucifer was playing but he could play his own, he'd break Lucifer just like Lucifer broke him.

Lucifer couldn't help the excited shiver that ran down his spine all the way to the top of his tail.

Adam: You want to start over? Fine we can start over but it'll be on my terms understand?

Adam squeezed Lucifer's wrist hard enough the king thought they would shatter, it didn't scare him, no, it made his heart beat faster and his face flush gold.

Adam: Understand?

Lucifer: Y-yes.

Angel Dust: Hey Charlie said breakfast is- I knew it! Husk!! You owe me big time!

Adam groaned and got off of Lucifer as Angel Dust ran back inside, well breakfast was going to be awful. He brushed the dirt off himself and went back inside without a second glance to Lucifer who was still sprawled out on the ground trying to catch his breath. Adam wanted to start over. He had another chance to make everything right. Lilith was gone but it didn't matter, it was him and Adam again, just like in the beginning, just as it should have been from the start.