#how he has such a default >:( face … how he needs a pillow to sit on bc hes so small

[lowpolyshadow]

trying to sleep but thinking of the official art of shadow and maria on the ark…….. hes so small…… hes so cute 😭

[luveline]

hiii! i adore you jade so much and can’t thank you enough for all your amazing writing! your fics are incredible! can i have more reader and hotch with their new baby? maybe their night routine takeing care of their newborn? or literally just anything i just love the way you write hotch taking care of both babe and reader! thank you!! xoxo🤍🤍🤍

thank you for your request! fem

“Ready?” Jack asks.

“No. No, no, no!” you cry, giggles slipping through your facade as Jack pelts himself full force from the end of your bed to the pillows where you’re curled. You put your arms out just in time to avoid getting them snapped, catching Jack, and feeling the brunt of his face as he lands on your chest. “Oh! You broke me, Jack. I’m broken!”

“You’re not broken,” Jack says breathlessly, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“You better not be breaking your stepmom, Jackers,” Hotch says from the bathroom. “I’m not getting you another one.”

“Boo!” you say.

“I don’t want another one,” Jack declares, still gasping for breath as he presses your faces together.

You pull him in for a cuddle. “Good, baby, I love you too much to be replaced. And I don’t mind dad either.”

“Jack, you gotta stop jumping on her, remember? She just had a baby. It really hurts to have a baby, and it hurts afterwards to get better. Gentle hands,” Hotch says, pulling the bathroom door open completely, the baby bathed and changed in his arms.

Hotch has cared for a baby before, so while you’re not useless, the majority of things have defaulted to him while you recover. You’re lucky, even if it’s how a woman should be treated —Hotch hasn’t made you get up once since you came home almost a week ago. He’s forced you to sit down a few times, actually. And you’d told him how thankful you were for it in whispers only yesterday night, grateful to be cared for with so much dedication.

I should've been better, for Haley, he’d whispered back. She was amazing all by herself when she didn’t need to be. You’ll be amazing too, but we’re gonna do it together.

Maybe he’s overcompensating for past regrets, maybe he’s just looking after you.

Jack strokes your cheek with a little hand. “Sorry. I don’t want to break you.”

“You won’t.” You lean back and attempt to bring him in with you, but Jack won’t be contained.

He springs down off of the bed to crowd Hotch’s legs, face up and smiling. “Dad, are you done?”

“I am.”

“Can you help with the robot now?”

“Yeah, yes. Sorry, I’m gonna fix your robot. You ready, honey?”

You open your arms eagerly. You’ve had a hug from Jack, and Hotch held you under his arm while you were eating your lunch, so all you need now for the trifecta is a cuddle with your baby. One day he’s gonna be able to hug you back, but for now he stretches out in the well of your arms and coos when you kiss his tiny forehead.

Hotch and Jack leave to fix their robot. You slink down, further and further, too tired and sore to want to sit, sliding the baby’s weight into one arm beside you and leaning down to watch him smack his lips. The few baths he’s had have made him tired each time. You feel sleepy just looking at him.

You’d hope that the baby will be handsome like his brother, though Jack looks so much like Haley they probably won’t be very similar. There are hints of Aaron in them both. Babies look like babies, sure, but he has the Hotchner nose. You can tell already.

“My handsome handsome boy,” you sing-song under your breath. He sniffles. You bring your pinky to his nose and give it a gentle touch. “Beautiful baby. I love you.” Your voice turns to sugar. “I love you, baby, you’re so beautiful, just like daddy.”

Footsteps creaking on the landing. You quieten without looking away from the baby, until you feel a familiar hand on your arm. “You okay?”

“Did you fix the robot?”

“Of course I did.” He leans down and in, lips and nose pressing to your arm. “Are you okay? You look tired.”

“I am tired. Maybe I’ll nap while he’s sleeping.”

“That’s a good idea. Give him a kiss and I’ll put him back in the crib.”

“No, no, can’t he stay?”

“You want me to stay here and watch you sleep?” he asks, laughing into your arm, pressing another kiss in a path toward your shoulder. “You can keep him until you fall asleep, okay? Then I’ll move him.”

“Will you do that thing to my cheek?” you ask quietly.

“If you tell me what you were saying before I walked in, yes.”

Hotch sits on the bed behind you where you’re sidled up to the baby, the back of his hand falling gently against your cheek, fingers curled and knuckles brushing the skin just shy of your eye one tender centimetre at a time. “Well?” he prompts.

You close your eyes with a contented smile. “Was just telling him he’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah?” He turns his hand, his pinky finger rubbing the delicate skin under your eye briefly, and the his palm flat to your face. His thumb takes up the guard. You feel fatigue pulling at you from the sheer comfort he offers, though you can manage a few more words, at least.

“He’s beautiful, he has his daddy’s nose.”

“I don’t think that’s what makes him so handsome.”

“No?” you mumble.

Hotch lets his face rest again on your arm. “No, that’s his mother. Couldn’t be anything else.”

[strawberrymochin]

Springtime Fushiguros♪

Context-: exploring the memories of childhood of fushiguros, marking the spring time of you and satoru gojo.

Gojo gets sick-: you get stuck with 3 kids. (Sick gojo=Horny gojo)

You refilled the ice pack again, handing it to Tsumiki, while the chicken soup boils.

As weird as it may sound, satoru gojo has fever. Being the strongest sorcerer, sick days are something, people don't expect him to afford. It's a rare occurrence though, the last time he caught flu was when he was a first year student in jujutsu high.

Tsumiki takes the ice pack to gojo, who is currently in your shared bedroom, resting. The kids have school today and you need to hurry. Moreover a sick gojo called for a disaster—a shudder runs through your spine, as the vivid evocation of the lucid night crosses your mind, tainting your cheeks red.

You shake off your thoughts, sensing the soup is ready to be served. 'megumi, can you bring me a bowl to pour the soup, please?'

Megumi obeys handing you a bowl. You pour the soup into it, covering it with a lid, not to let the hot steam escape. You, next, get working on packing the lunches of the kids , then, placing the breakfast on the table, 'Megumi, Tsumiki breakfast's ready! Hurry!'

The kids rush to the table, followed by the pale figure of your boyfriend, eyes feverish , face flushed, messy white locks falling on his brows with a slight pillow crease on his cheek. The sight melted you, wanting to kiss him, but worry washes over you as soon as you recall his health.

'honey! why did you get up? You should be resting now,' you get closer to him, raising the back of your palm, to brush off his silvery moonlight hair, checking his temperature, almost making you gasp, 'you're burnin—'

Before you could finish your sentence, gojo pulls you closer, one hand snaking around your waist, while the other cups your face, leaning in slowly, ever so slowly bringing his mouth to your lips, kissing you.

His eyes close, lashes brushing your cheek.

Time stopped as his lips moved around yours, slow, soft and gentle, as laying down on the dewy grass on a first snowfall, as munching on a cloudy marshmallow, as the stars twinkle in midnight sky.

You would have given in, but taking note on how reverent his touch was, made you realise how in a pyretic daze he was, as you pulled away.

'mmnh...I want more.' gojo groaned, pulling you for a second kiss, when—

'ppfftttt'

The sound made you reconsider your surroundings, which you forgot momentarily. After all, you guys aren't alone and there are two kids around, just of six and seven years old.

You sprung apart from gojo, taking a look at the kids faces. Megumi's one eye was twitching, there were visible remarks of him choking on his glass of milk. Tsumiki's one hand covered her own eyes, peeking from the little gap of her fingers, while the other tried to cover Megumi's, which ofcourse didn't work well blocking the view. This is the first time they saw you guys kiss.

Embarrassed as hell, you disappeared into your room, with an awkward excuse of getting changed to drive the kids school.

Gojo, however, wasn't even a bit shaken by this incident. He walked up nonchalantly to the table joining the kids instead, as Megumi eyed him sickeningly.

'What?' he asked the kid with a default grump face.

'....'

'Can't I even kiss my girl?'

'No. You have fever. Don't want y/n-san to get sick.'

Gojo scoffs at Megumi's remarks. Now, a six year old kid will teach him when to kiss his girlfriend.

'I'm sick. Don't you have anything to say?'

'yeah. Stay away from me.'

Gojo- :⁠,⁠-⁠)

You come back after dropping the kids at school. The chicken soup you made him will probably be finished by now, but to your surprise it was sitting on the counter untouched as you left.

'why didn't you had the soup, satoru? Moreover I told you to rest in the bedroom right?' you frown at gojo laying his head on the table for god knows how long.

'Forget about the soup. Can I have you instead?'

'.....'

'Spoon feed me, then. After that we will continue what we left unfinished.'

[whatgaviiformes]

Fic: Grannies (part 1)

A/N: When I am in a writing lull I default to two things: crafting and post-Hydrofoil/post-SOS. I hope this is still enjoyable - dedicated to the craftyfam for inspiration. In this part: Scott

On a new day, Scott realized he wasn't alone in the lounge. Sometime in the early morning his younger brother must have stumbled in, still encumbered as he was with the cast helping his leg to heal, but Scott had been too engrossed with the work begging for his attention to notice. 

He apologizes for it now. 

Gordon has used pillows to prop himself up against the arm of the sofa so that he's sitting, and there's a space right past the injured limb for Scott to gently position his weight. This couch is made for Scott’s height, so Gordon seems entirely too small against the decor pillows. 

He’s healed nicely after the events of finding Braman - the strain on his arm and shoulder had just needed rest. Their caution saved his neck and spine, though he hadn't been able to escape the head injury, which still gives him headaches from time to time. And the leg - well that needed a bit more than just TLC. 

Scott’s hand finds the ankle attached to the uninjured leg, his voice crackling a “good morning” from the lack of use and dryness he hadn’t realized was there. Gordon, with honey-brown eyes that shine with a knowing amusement, pauses the movement of his hands and lets the strand of orange yarn drop at the reminder of Scott’s presence. They both share in the explosion of color just outside the lounge windows.

Clouds like peach fluffs remind Scott of just how long it’s been since they were able to enjoy the dawnslight together. Prior to the accident, their routines aligned with daybreak, the timing of their exercises overlapping. Gordon’s, of course, included laps in the pool. The pool which was decidedly off limits with Gordon’s current accessory. Scott would often go for a run, chasing the sun. Scott’s not so much a fan of this new normal created by the Hood’s attack - the world where Gordon is unable to partake in what runs through his blood, and where the rest of them are spread far, far too thin. 

“Granny for your thoughts?” 

Scott shakes his head. “They’re not worth the - wait, what?” 

In response Gordon tosses him a square of fabric, blaming aerodynamics when it lands on his own foot instead of on Scott’s face where he was aiming. “Well, I can’t reach my wallet and you don’t need my pennies anyway.” 

“So this is your substitute?” Scott picks it up between two fingers to inspect it. He’s not trying to make it seem like there’s a practical joke here… but it’s Gordon. So there’s a practical joke here somewhere. 

If anything, it’s the color combination. Gordon’s never been afraid of putting clashing colors together, though Scott’s never been sure if that’s truly fearlessness or whether it’s just Gordon being oblivious about it. There was a period when they were younger where Dad thought Gordon might even be colorblind - had him tested and everything. But when all was said and done, Gordon could see what he was doing when he dressed himself with one green sock and one orange - he just didn’t care. 

The square’s got the same energy, the only pattern being that no color is repeated. Otherwise, it’s random and clashing, and oh so Gordon. 

He loves it immediately. 

Even the Barbie pink near the autumn orange.

“Can I keep this?” 

“Sure. What’s one granny?” Gordon cuts the orange yarn with a flourish and loops it back through his work. “I have hundreds more where that came from.” 

“Oh, wow, that’s … a lot.” Scott wonders if they all channel Gordon’s chaos the way his square does. 

“Yeah, well. Not being able to swim is a lot.”

“Oh, Gordon…”

“Don’t. I’m irritated, and it’s not your fault. Pick a color for me.” 

“Hmm. Teal.” 

There’s a basket on the floor. Gordon reaches for it, placing it instead on his lap while he digs through his options. In the end the color he holds up for Scott is more turquoise than teal, but it’s close enough to the bird feathers outside the window, which inspired his choice in the first place, that he nods his approval. 

For a while, Scott watches him work the green-ish blue over the row of orange. Without knowing exactly what Gordon’s doing with the hook and the yarn, Scott catches the general pattern: spaces over the clusters of color and new stitches where the previous row had spaces. Each row around the row before it with corners shaped into a square. 

He understands the principle.

“What do I do with it?” he asks. It's small, despite the volume of its color. “Will it work as a coaster?” Scott hopes so; he could use some life for when working at Dad's desk. 

“It's perfect for a coaster.” 

“What are you doing with them? You can't possibly need hundreds of coasters, can you?” There's actually very little Scott assumes about Gordon’s logic. This is one he feels fairly certain about. 

“Ha, no.” Gordon's sly smile would make warriors cower. “Virgil's making me a blanket.”

“Virgil is?” 

“Well, yeah. He doesn't know I know. But it's Virgil so of course he is.” Gordon leans in conspiratorially, lowering his voice. “I'm leaving them around the villa for him to find. There's one in his favorite coffee mug right now.”

Gordon cackles. An actual full belly laugh. “I haven't had any sent back to me in retaliation,” he explains further. “Ergo…”

“Ergo,” Scott echoes, the pieces coming together. He absolutely understands now that Gordon is doing just the part he enjoys, a welcome distraction from his current misery. The injured aquanaut gets to enjoy the instant gratification of the small project while Virgil…

…does the heavy lifting. 

That’s so entirely them it makes his teeth hurt grinning. 

Scott glances at his square with a rush of warmth being welcomed into the language his brothers seem to share over yarn. He never learned when Mom taught Virgil her magic, but he knows it’s important to the two of them and that Virgil taught Gordon at the hospital all those years ago now. 

There is still one more thing he’s wondering. 

“Gordon? About these ends?” The square looks unfinished with the strands dangling with each color change.

“Oh, do they bother you?” He beams. “I don't mind them so much.”

Scott's gaze immediately jumps to Gordon's gaze away from the trailing yarn. That little shit. Virgil will hate that. Hell, Scott can't stand them unfinished like that himself. And Gordon knows exactly what he's doing. 

“You're maniacal.”

Gordon shakes his head. “No, I'm bored. And Virgil likes fixing things, remember?”

[rubythoughts]

Open Doors Fanfiction | Alice in Borderland 🍋

Chishiya Shuntaro x OC

Possibly just a sneak peak into a future bigger story if I ever get to it💀

* Smut involved *

______________________________

She entered her room sighing in relief. She is finally alone, far away from the partying, the staring or the lustful eyes of Niragi. Not that she minded so much the last part, but even to her it's becoming terrifying to have his attention so much.

Himiko left her cropped black jacket on the floor. Then her jeans shorts. The swimsuit followed, forming a trail to her bathroom. She turned the water on and looked into the mirror on the wall. She touched the brand new scar trailing from her forehead to her cheekbone, almost grazing her eye. It still hurt, but it hurt more to remember what she's done to receive it. She was the lucky one, the others were left rotting in the maze. The 7 of diamonds was cruel.

She looked back at the mess of her room – she didn't have much, but last nights anger was reflected in the torn pillows, broken glasses and clothes piling up on her bed and floor. She sighed again, knowing that eventually she'll have to clean it up. Or find another room to sleep in.

A shiver went through her thinking of Niragi's eyes and how eager he'd be to find her without a place to sleep. She shrugged and got in the shower, pulling the shower curtain after her. Only in those moments she let herself think of everything this place took from her. Her empathy became less and less important with each game. She couldn't save others when she barely kept herself together and she learnt to cope with that.

The shower soothed her muscles and she left herself drift apart for a while.

The door didn't click when he entered. Thinking she's still somewhere around the party, testing again who has the potential to become a good ally for other games – he was still silent. The shower startled him and he almost took a step back thinking he might get caught. But somehow, there was a thrill in this.

What would she do? Kick him out, probably, but he didn't mind that much. Besides, he was curious, and the room looking like a hurricane moved around it for a few hours left him more intrigued. The calm and collected Himiko wouldn't have done this, would she? She was hard to read. That was why he was so curious.

Half a smile appeared on his face walking over a small stuffed animal on the floor.

"Who would have thought? She can be soft." – he thought.

He glanced at the wide open door to the bathroom and decided he should stay. It was an impulse, Chishiya usually didn't act on those. But he sat on the edge of the bed nevertheless, watching the feminine figure just sit there, head down, water dripping on her body, motionless. He wondered how her brain works. She has a stuffed animal lying on the floor, but last night she was the only survivor of a terrible game. What horrible things she's done to win that game?

He wants – needs -  to play a game with her once. To see how the small wheels of her mind twist and turn to solve it.

Suddenly, she moved, grabbing something of the edge of the shower. She poured it right on her had and began massaging it into her hair. Her hands drifted down her shoulder, then on the small of her back, then back again up to her head. He held his breath, thinking he might get caught. But she didn't notice him yet and he still waited there, leaning back on his hands.

She moved slowly, letting the water caress every curve and every edge. Her hands moved back to her body, touching so many places Chishiya didn't account for before. She moved to the side and he could see the shape of her breasts through the semi-opaque curtain. He doubted she could see him in the semi darkness of the room. He wasn't worried, he rarely was by default, but again – what was the worst that could happen?

Besides, he was curious. He wanted to know more of her, although he didn't expect to learn how perky her breasts were and how water fell off them like a lazy waterfall.

She touched them and he felt himself grow in his shorts. It wasn't what he came in for, but he did get a show. Hell, he thought she was a threat to him, but he was still a man. His preservation sense was huge, but his manhood was now bigger.

He grabbed his erection and began stroking while she moved in what felt like a lascivious slow dance in the rain. He imagined her there naked, soothed by the water and his gaze. In the back of his mind, he thought that she's the reason they never had hot water in the building anymore. But he was content to freeze in his own showers in order to have the image of her touching softly her thighs, her breast and finally her sex – now an image burnt into his mind forever.

She turned around and he froze. She was looking straight ahead, but no sign of figuring what was happening in the now-darkness of her room.

He watched her continuing with her routine and his member got only harder now that she was facing him. He tried to stay silent – if anything he was good at it but it was a rare moment when he felt he needed to be vocal. The restraint only turned him on more.

He watched the curve of her bottom while she kept her long hair up with her hands, her figure becoming more and more sexual with each small breath she took, shaking slightly her beasts. She turned her back to him again for a few seconds, only to look back over her shoulder.

He felt himself go over the edge, looking straight to her face, although he didn't distinguish much. He came, suddenly, and barely stopped from moaning her name. If he believed in God, he would have thought this is heaven. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, when he opened them she wasn't looking towards him anymore. He sighed.

He tried to hide away his still grown bulge and hurrying to get himself cleaned up. This wasn't productive. He felt dirty not only through the physical evidence of his dubious activity, but also because he let himself do it.

He heard the water stop abruptly and he sighed again. He left the room, glad to be alone on the hallway. He put his hoodie on and his hands in his pockets going up the stairs to his own shower.

Himiko let the water drip of her body before extending her arm to take the discarded towel next to her shower. She moved away the curtain and walked out of the shower. She moved to the mirror and looked back into her own dark green eyes, slightly smiling.

______________________

It is actually my first ever smut oneshot and I’ve written it on an impulse and based on an idea I had *caugh* in the shower 💀💀

Any advice is deeply appreciated ❤️

[fiveapocalypse]

Dream for a Dream

Lila cares for the second youngest of the Hargreeves-Gill household once more, and this time, she finds it a bit harder to let her maternal instincts go

Or, in other words, Five gets taken care of by Lila again and she decides to make a decision.

Hi, for you all :D @aka-tua-braindump @rebel-by-default @lookingforhappy

Lila wakes up at the unholy hour of 3 in the morning in complete confusion.

Usually, she only wakes up so abruptly when her mom senses, as Diego called them, suddenly went off, setting off alarm bells in her head before she rushed out of bed to check what Grace needed. This, however, was not a Grace situation as the baby video monitor Diego had set up shows their child sleeping peacefully in her crib. What does get her alarm bells ringing however, is the fact that the second ‘child’ who insisted on sharing a room with the baby so he could protect her at any and all costs had woken up with a start, stuffed his fist into his mouth, and then curled up into a tight little ball that didn’t settle right with her.

And so, she found herself in her child’s bedroom, a small flashlight in hand as the small sniffling noises brought her closer and closer to the junior sized bed that Diego had bought and installed himself. Wrapped up tightly in space blankets, Five is muffling his crying with a pillow in his mouth by the time she arrives and his eyes are squeezed shut as Lila crouched. “Hey…” she taps at the bed, just to try and get his attention. “Hey, little tiger?” He squirms at the nickname, brows furrowing before his eyes opened, all red and puffy. Lila hates how it makes her want to pull him into a hug. Or maybe, she just hates the fact that he’s upset to begin with.

“Sorry,” Five’s voice is raspy, bags heavy underneath his puffy and red eyes. He had fought the majority of his sickness away, but sometimes he stayed up all night, thinking, calculating. Tonight seemed to be one of his smaller days, with a mind that barely stuck on to the adult consciousness he always carried with himself. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” His voice is a little quieter too, soft and shaky. Lila hums.

“I’m a mom,” she reminds him, “Grace wakes me up for even less than you do. What’s on your mind hm?”

In all his Five predictability, the boy scrubs at his face with his sleeve and shakes his head. “Nothin’,” he says, nose stuffed and word slurred, “nothin’s wron’” Correction, words slurred. Lila doesn’t exactly believe him though, because he looks like he just got the most horrible case of the sniffles, and if he was sick, he wouldn’t have dared to stay in the same room as Grace. “Go back to bed.” Five tries to shoo her away, hiccuping. “Stupid. Why are you here, huh? To gloat that you’ve seen me crying?” And then, he shifts the tables to start accusing her when it’s clear she won’t move. Lila, with a smile, merely shrugs.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“Leave me alone.”

“Do you wanna talk?”

“I hate you.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Explode.”

“Everyone has—"

“Well, I don’t!”

Five’s voice gets uncharacteristically high, nearly screech worthy if Lila had anything to say about it, and Grace whines from her crib at the sound and Five crumples immediately, hands over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut, pressed up against the corner with trembling shoulders. “Sorry!” He practically sobs, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, don’t—I’ll be quiet. I’ll shut up.” Lila’s heart leaps into her throat at the sight.

“Five got roughed up by the old man the most though.”

“Well, Lila, dear, I had special ways of making him listen to me.”

Immediately, she pulls herself into his bed, not quite touching him but sitting across where if he allowed it, one small movement could have him in her arms. “Hey, hey—I’m not, she isn’t awake, Tiger.” Lila tries to imagine what her actual mom’s voice would sound like. She tries to remember if Anita had ever calmed her down from —whatever Five was experiencing. “How about…how about I tell you one of my nightmares? And then you can tell me yours, so we’re even.” Five looks at her, warily.

“Uu…”

He makes a garbled noise behind his hands. Lila sighs, straightens and nods. “Well, surprisingly , my most recent nightmare has been about you—”

“Me?”

Big blue eyes squint at her. “What—if it’s about your parents, I—I didn’t know and I—"

“Christ almighty!” Lila hisses, “it’s not—you were being killed, Five. Okay? The handler always found a way to kill you, always found a way to bring you to your knees, and I was powerless to stop it. That is what my nightmare was about, okay? So—don’t, don’t get it in your head that I’m going to kick you out just for waking up Grace by accident or whatever is going on through your head right now.”

The silence that surrounds them makes Lila want to punch a wall. She wasn’t good at these sorts of things. Grace was far too young to even remember her nightmares, if she even had them, and the most soothing she did was rocking her and feeding her and changing her diaper. Five doesn’t look at her, now fiddling with his fingers. It’s one of his smaller days, amplified by the sudden nightmare no doubt, so Lila lets him take his time. “That’s scary,” he says after a few minutes, “that the handler came back. She—” he gulps, blinking, “she wasn’t a good person… to.. to either of us.” It’s said with finality, and then, he lets himself crawl forward enough to end up sprawled on the bed and her lap. Lila pulls him up towards herself so he can rest his head on her chest. “Your heartbeat is fast,” Five says, ever so observant. “Was the nightmare about me being dead that bad? I thought you’d like it.”

“Not anymore.” Lila decided combing her fingers through his hair helps him relax. “Now it just makes me scared, and sad.”

“Sad,” Five repeats, “my nightmare made me sad.” He sounds a bit tired. Lila doesn’t say anything. “It was about—uh, you know, my family? Well— it. Them. They don’t like me, I think. No one does. Or well, it feels like no one does. I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop. It always dropped before.”

Another bout of silence, Lila hums.

“What if I told you there was no other shoe to drop?”

“I’d call you stupid, there’s always a shoe to drop. That’s why there’s two shoes.”

“What if I wanna go my life wearing one shoe?”

“Well that—it’s your problem.”

“Which means….”

Five frowns, blinking up at her. He pushes at her face and groans. “I’m tired! Stop making me think.” Lila struggles not to burst into laughter as she pinches his face, making Five try to crawl away from her to no avail. Tiny little ten year olds couldn’t beat a 30+ year old woman on strength, especially one as noodle limbed as he was. Five still tries though—because of course he does.

“It means that it’s my decision to drop the other shoe or not and frankly, there’s very little that you can do outside of harming Diego and Grace seriously—”

“I’d rather lick a cheese grater than ever lay a hand on my niece and brother.”

“—which I know you won’t do, obviously, there is very, VERY little that would make either of us kick you to the curb.”

Five looks ready to retort. He wants to retort. Lila can see the gears in his head turning before he lets out a yawn, rubbing at his eyes. His head slumps back onto Lila’s chest. “Looks like someone’s tired.” She snickers, earning her a sudden grumble.

“Shut up,” the boy mumbles, yawning, “you’re just…. A really boring mom.”

Lila doesn’t have time to retort when Five starts snoring in her arms and for once, she’s glad the old man slash kid fell asleep so fast.

That way, he didn’t have to see her tears.

[threadsun]

Fuck it, here it is. God I hope this is ok ^^; Also it's long as shit, don't ask me how, it just happened

One fateful night long after dinner you find yourself hungry again so you decide to head to your kitchen to grab a snack and to see what all the clinking and banging has been about. You’re used to it of course. Anytime Rory comes over he leaves your kitchen in a bit of a mess, but he makes up for it by giving you as much of whatever he made the mess by making, and the offer to fuck on the counter top which you only occasionally take him up on

Rounding into the kitchen you do see Rory and two more faces you didn’t expect. Nick and Bo are both hanging out with Rory as he decorates a tray of brownies, only one dessert among the small bakery he’s turned your kitchen into. Really you shouldn’t be surprised to see them, the only time Bo doesn’t cling to your side is when Nick comes over. You ask them what occasion all these treats are for, Nick and Rory pause but Bo doesn’t hesitate “We’re gonna get high!” You look around you and ask if all the treats are edibles “Oh, god no, only the brownies are, everything else is for the munchies” Nick explains, fiddling with one of his necklaces as he speaks

You tell them that’s fine, though you’d like some warning the next time they use your place to get high "Of course your grace, thank you for being so understanding" Nick gives you a little bow as Rory giggles "Oh, please have mercy on us your grace!" Rory dips his voice down as low as it can go to try and tease Nick "Lighten up, there's no need to be so formal around someone you've dicked down before hun" Nick just rolls his eyes "Rory, I'm a sex worker, my default for people I dick down is formal" "And that's why you're boring" Nick opens his mouth to defend himself but closes it just as quick, knowing there would be no end to that back and forth

“Did you need something?” You look down to see Bo on his knees, nuzzling his face into your outer thigh. It took you a while to realize that this was just how he shows affection and not him trying to get in your pants. About as long as it took Bo to feel comfortable yanking your pants down whenever he wanted to taste you. It took quite a bit of training but he asks permission first and doesn’t do it in public anymore, and he’s always stopped when you told him to. You tell him you were just here for a snack “Oh, ok!...you wanna get high with us?"

And now you’re here, all four of you high on Rory’s brownies and vibing in your living room. It’s cozy as shit too, there’s blankets and pillows everywhere, there’s a little pillow fort made from the couch cushions that Bo has claimed as his doggy domain, it’s great “How many of these cake pops do you think I could swallow whole?” You tell Bo to not even think about it “Probably like…ten?” You ask Rory to stop encouraging him. Nick chuckles as you tell them off, his cute laugh a bit too far away for your liking. Unlike the other two who are pressed up against you as close as humanly possible Nick has chosen to keep his distance, just observing like he always does

Rory sits up slightly to grab a treat from your coffee table and holds it up to your face “A cupcake for my cupcake? WoOoOoOoOah” His hand “slips” causing the tiniest dot of frostion to land on your cheek “Oh nooooooooo, sugar, I’m so sorry. Here, I’ll clean you up” Before you can respond Rory starts to kiss and lick the frosting off your cheek “Wait, we get to lick you? Awesome!” Bo starts to lick your cheek as well

You feel Rory’s hand on your stomach, his thumb lazily rubbing your sensitive skin through your shirt. A small whimper escapes you as Rory trails his kisses down to your neck, his hand slowly creeping up your shirt. Bo’s ears twitch when he hears you and before you can even begin to piece together what’s happening he’s kissing you. You start to squirm, everything is so much more sensitive right now and it takes everything you have not to turn into a moaning mess at their light touches

Nick gets up from his chair and walks over to you, lightly grabbing Rory and Bo’s shoulders to make them give you a little space “Hey, you ok? If you want things to continue you’ll have to tell me, I don’t leave shit to interpretation, especially when you already look so fucked out” Everything happend so fast, everything felt like so much, but you liked it, you really fucking liked it. You tell him you want to keep going, and ask him to join in too, looking down to see how his cock strains against his denim. Rory doesn’t hesitate reaching up your shirt to play with your nipples. Your chest arches into his touch, moaning as he gropes your chest

Bo takes Rory’s place at your neck but quickly pulls your shirt to the side to reach your shoulder. They’re not allowed to mark your neck but anywhere else is fair game, and you can’t help but love your little rule as Bo takes to sucking hickeys into your shoulder. Rory takes advantage of your moaning to slip his tongue into your mouth, the taste of pure sugar coating your throat as he shoves his tongue as deep as it’ll go “Make sure to let them breathe Rory, you remember your safeword, right baby?” Rory parts from you just far enough so you can answer, you tell Nick your safeword to show you remember it before dragging Rory back into another kiss

Nick chuckles at your eagerness but something tells you he’s fairly eager himself as his fingers slide across your waistband. Your hips buck on their own, so desperate for his touch already. You’ve never felt this needy before, it’s like your lust is running through your veins, running down to the tips of your fingers. You could swear you feel it in your hair but on second thought you don’t think you have nerves in there. Nick tuts at you “I need to hear you baby” You pull away from Rory and beg him to touch you, telling him you need his long fingers in your pussy, and just how good you’ll be for all of them

“Let me do it! Oh, please master, let me eat you out, promise I’ll be gentle” You don’t trust Bo for a second, but the thought of him burying that long tongue inside you makes you throw your caution to the wind “Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you” Bo demonstrates just how gentle he’ll be with you by ripping your sweats to shreds. He does make sure to take off your panties with care since they belong to Nick, handing them to him before settling in between your legs. You tell him to leave it, taking in how cute he looks holding himself back like this. His pupils are wide and there’s a line of drool dripping down his chin at the sight of your slick cunt

You tell him to go on, he doesn’t hesitate, burying his face into you. His nose bumps into your clit making your hand fly down and grip the back of his hair. He whimpers into your pussy as he eats you out like a man starved. Nick moves behind you and you hear the familiar click of his lube opening “Think I can open you up back here? I’d hate for any of your slutty holes to feel left out” You mumble out a yes as Rory makes out with you, his fingers abusing your sensitive chest along with Bo hitting spots that just shouldn’t be possible for a tongue bringing you up to the edge. You try to warn Bo by tugging on his hair but it only seems to encourage him, his tongue focusing on your g spot. Once you feel Nick’s finger slide into your ass it’s all over, your first orgasm of the night rolling through you in waves

“That’s it, just let yourself give into it. Doing so good for us baby” Nick’s voice in your ear brings you back to the surface just enough to let the overstimulation kick in. Bo drinks up every ounce of cum your body gives him before working on getting you to make more for him while Nick adds another finger into your ass. Rory finally gives you a chance to breathe as he helps you take off your shirt, latching his mouth onto your overly sensitive nipple. You start to squirm and writhe, everything is just so much, so good

“Color?” You manage to tell Nick green between your moans. It feels like you’re losing control of your own body, your hips bucking back and forth, not knowing what sensation you want more of, just knowing you need more. Bo makes the decision for you, grabbing your thighs to keep you in place while he fucks you on his tongue. You can see Bo’s hips twitch with every moan that escapes you, clearly trying to be good and save all his cum for you. You call out to Bo, asking him if he’d like to fuck you now. He mumbles his answer and thanks into your pussy before he rips himself away from it

He almost rips his clothes like he did yours before remembering your complaints about having to buy him new ones after every time you fuck. He fumbles with his pants a bit before remembering how the buttons work, stripping down completely before grabbing your thighs and lining up with your sweet pussy “Please, please may I fuck you master? Please, let me make you feel good, wanna be your good boy, please let me be good” You give Bo the go ahead and you wish you had the whine he lets out as he thrusts into you on tape

Bo growls as he forces himself to slow down, not wanting to hurt you with his knot. His fingers dig into your thighs hard enough you’re sure they’ll bruise but you’re far too lost in your own pleasure to give a fuck about tomorrow. Bo finally bottoms out into you, moaning your name as he cums, his warm release pushing you over the edge again as well. Bo can’t thrust into you very far with his knot in you but he makes up for it with how his hips smack against your clit “Fuck, color baby?” Nick’s panting now, his hard lubed up cock sliding against your ass

You stutter out green before he thrusts into you. Nick always does such a good job prepping you, sliding balls deep into you so easily. Nick leans his head over your shoulder as he thrusts into you, his head butting lightly against Bo’s. Bo takes Nick by the back of the head, bringing him into a sloppy kiss beside you as they pound into you. Rory’s fingers tilt your head up and to the side to look at him. You’re not sure when he got naked but he sure is now, his leaking dick inches away from your mouth. You don’t hesitate, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out as an invitation

“Aww, you’re so sweet sugar~” Rory slowly slides into your mouth, his hand weaving into your hair to keep himself steady “There you go sweetheart~ Oooh, such a good fuck toy for us~” Rory keeps his hips still, letting you try to suck him off, groaning as your moans send vibrations down his cock. He knows you’re already too fuck drunk to give any good head yourself, he just finds seeing you struggle like this adorable. His grip on your hair tightens slightly as he starts to slowly slide across your tongue

You feel so full, all of your holes being filled at once was something you never knew you needed until now. It’s so overwhelming, it’s just so much, and it’s all so fucking good. You lose track of how many times you cum, only aware of how much cum your boyfriends are fucking into you. Bo can’t speak anymore, only letting out whines and growls as he keeps filling you up, not a drop being wasted as his knot keeps it all inside you. Nick cums for you twice, staying inside you to keep you nice and full. Rory’s lackadaisical pace finally works him up enough to cum on your tongue, you’re only just lucid enough to not swallow it like he tells you to

Rory shakily gets down on his knees and shoves his tongue into your mouth, savoring the flavor of his cum on your lips before telling you to swallow. Bo ruts into you just a few more times before pumping you full of his last load, collapsing on top of you and Nick. You’re all panting in a big pile on the blanketed floor, enjoying your afterglow together. Rory reaches over to the coffee table and grabs two conveniently placed water bottles. You ask him if he planned this, he just chuckles

“Planned what? Three horny guys fucking their partner once their inhabitions dropped? No, I didn’t have to plan that sweetheart. Open for me?” You open your mouth to let him pour some water onto your tongue, it’s refreshingly cool after being trapped between three hot men for…who knows how long that was. With how you feel you’d think the sun would be up by now, but the sky outside your windows is just as dark as it was when you started. Rory dishes out water to everyone except Bo who is happily passed out on your chest

Nick starts to massage your neck, making sure it isn’t too sore after being at such an odd angle for so long “You did so well for us baby” Nick leans his head to give you a kiss on the cheek “So good, did such a good job honey” Rory gives you a soft peck on the lips before nuzzling your noses “Now, is there anything else you’d like sugar?” Your stomach growls and you ask if he still has that cupcake lying around

👀🥵😳oughhhhhhh this is so good!!!! I love how good Nick is about making sure there's consent, and how silly Rory is about the whole thing, and Bo's eagerness!!!! Also you can tell how into each other Bo and Nick are, and it's sooooo sweet 🥺

[thewholecrew]

@headstrongblake asked: nsfw headcanon meme.

[ kinks ] ― what is their biggest kink? are there any kinks they haven't tried but want to? are there any kinks they have tried but learned are not for them?

kassy has a big ol' list of kinks so we'll try narrowing them down to her favourites. they would probably have to be overstimulation/orgasm denial (for her partner), pegging, joi, bondage and choking. she's also a big fan of praise degradation where she calls her partner degrading things with a praising twist to uplift them rather than to insult them. for a kink she wants to try it would be her partner wearing a toy/vibrator that she can control and, sounding. kinks that aren't for kassy that she tried would be CBT, pet play and somnophilia.

grant's, to no one's surprise, biggest kink would be that he's a huge rope bunny. he loves to be tied up. but he also enjoys face sitting, orgasm denial and he's pretty masochistic meaning he can find pleasure through pain. there isnt any specific kinks that he hasn't tried that he really has at the top of his mind to try, nor was there really anything he has tried that he hasn't liked. being very switchy he can and will try just about any kinks his partner suggests.

trinity hasn't had much experience with kink but i'd say she's very submissive and likes to be told what to do. she enjoys face slapping with either someones hand or dick/dildo, LOVES being grabbed and lifted and tossed around on the bed or for someone to position her how they like, use her how they like. she's also a huuuge fan of primal play where she's the prey meaning she adores being chased around and when caught her partner has their way with her. something she'd like to try would be different kinds of roleplays where she gets to dress up in cute outfits and act out scenarios with her partner. she doesn't like to be degraded harshly and will not do a scene or have rough sex without aftercare.

[ oral ] ― do they prefer to give or receive oral? anything specific they enjoy / don't enjoy when it comes to oral?

kassy prefers to give oral, she absolutely loves it - whether it's fellatio, rimming, and i'd say also cunnilingus but it is what she's least skilled in mostly because she hasn't been with anyone with a vagina before. she enjoys when her partner gets really into it when she's giving oral, if their hips buck or lift, or they squirm. she also likes their hands in her hair however, she doesn't enjoy being forced to deepthroat or them being rough with her, (she'll deepthroat you, don't worry, no need to be pushy.) she does also enjoy recieving oral however, giving someone access to her body is something she does not do often/struggles with. that's why it usually is offered as a reward because when her partner gives her their trust and vulnerability it in turn has her trust in them grow as well, plus they have to be willing to let her guide them so that she can actually enjoy it.

grant has no preference when it comes to oral, he loves giving as much as he loves recieving. when giving, he enjoys his partner's hands in his hair, clawing at him, yanking it, being as demanding and aggressive as they want, and showing him what they like. when he recieves oral he also doesn't mind if they're aggressive and he's able to find a bit of pain pleasurable (dont bite his dick but grazing teeth gently will give you quite the reaction from him).

trinity absolutely loves giving oral, she could be giving oral all day and night if her partner wanted. but she's also a huge pillow princess so of course she loves reciving it just as much so 69ing might not be too bad of an idea. she loves her partners being as rough with her physically as they want so long as they give her love and praise while doing so. she's also not a huge fan of getting cum in her hair so, there's that.

[ positions ] ― what are their favorite sex positions? is there something they typically default to? a special position they've always wanted to try?

kassy's favourite penetrative sex positions would have to be cowgirl, amazon position, missionary, front face spooning since she's not a huge fan of not being able to see her partners face when they penetrate her. she also likes missionary, doggy style and lazy dog or for pegging. usually she's always on top so cowgirl is probably her most comfortable position. non-penetrative, she likes 69ing, standing recieving oral, sitting on the bed with her partner on their knees to recieve oral and vice versa, she also likes her partner bent over any kind of surface (couch, counter, bed, etc).

grant really enjoys the classics, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, spooning from the front or behind, or his partner in a sex swing. he also likes his partners legs over his shoulders if they're flexable enough. he's down to try any kind of position as long as it's not too twisty or complicated. he usually will switch between missionary and cowgirl depending on whether his partner wants to be on top or on the bottom and if he gets riled up enough he'll switch to doggy style. there isn't any position he really wants to try himself.

trinity being the pillow princess she is, loves any position where she's on the bed, on her back or her front, doesn't matter but she likes her partner doing most of the work. it doesn't mean she won't also help or that she's completely against being on top but her detault will always be on her back. she hasn't tried but would like to be bent over couches, beds, counters, or the bathtub or shower. also up against a tree or in a field since that plays into her primal play kink.

[twilight-orchid]

How The Demon Brothers React After Fighting With Their SO

tw: some angst with resolution at the end, mentions of past arguments, insecurity.

Lucifer:

This man is petty as hell.

He doesn’t do the silent treatment, but he acts like you aren’t dating.

If you need to work on something together, you’re a co-worker.

At RAD you’re a classmate.

Around the house you’re just a housemate.

His poker face is immaculate and it will not crack when you’re around.

If someone didn’t know what was happening, they’d probably think you two barely knew each other.

However, you won’t notice, but as soon as you look the other way his eyes are on you.

He’s used to arguing with his brothers and is no stranger to explosive fights that end with he and the other person not being on speaking terms.

But you’re different.

He tries to go on with business as usual, but he can’t think about anything other than how much he misses you.

Yet, he lets it continue because he just can’t put his pride aside and apologize.

If you decide to sleep in your old room it’ll both hurt his feelings and royally piss him off.

He thinks you’re being childish and will be pretty rude about it, but that’s because internally his blood just ran cold.

It adds a degree of seriousness to the argument that he’s uncomfortable with.

Yes he’s mad, but he can’t lose you.

If you still sleep in his bed, he makes sure to scoot over to the very edge so he doesn’t cuddle you in his sleep.

In fact, the first night after the argument he’d probably put a pillow between you just to really punctuate the fact that he’s still upset.

I’d say it could go 4 days to a week tops without you making up.

After a point though, he just can’t function until the issue is resolved. He can’t sleep, he’s falling behind on his work, and he’s just generally not doing well.

You get called to his office one night and find him at his desk surrounded by piles of paper, disheveled and exhausted.

“MC, come sit down. I’d like to talk this through. Please.”

Mammon:

He’s so dramatic.

You dare defy him? The Great Mammon can’t believe this tiny fragile human would have the audacity.

The theatrics are just a front though.

His ‘The Great Mammon’ act is a mask for his insecurity, one he hasn’t had to use with you in awhile.

Even as the words leave his mouth he regrets them.

He’s going to be very uncomfortable with everything until the argument is resolved, but most of all himself.

He’s learned not to take his brothers too seriously when they toss insults his way, but words have a way of morphing to belief over time.

Internally he is going to be super hard on himself. 

Regardless of if the fight was his fault or not, he’s going to kick himself constantly for making yet another mistake.

He’s over the argument pretty fast. The anger quickly melts into anxiety.

Are you going to leave him? Do you hate him? Did he hurt your feelings? 

That being said, he doesn’t know if you’re still mad and he doesn’t know how to ask. 

As a defense mechanism, he defaults to how he treated you when you first arrived in the devildom.

Calls you human, disregards you, stuff like that.

If you decide to sleep in another room, before midnight expect him to be knocking on the door.

“Oi, MC. You awake? I just - I can’t - *sigh* Can we talk about this?”

If you sleep in his bed, he makes a point of sleeping with his back to you.

Less because he’s actually mad and more because he doesn’t want his image of you as he drifts to sleep to be a look of anger.

Though as soon as he passes out he’ll roll over and tuck you into his arms on instinct.

I’d say any after effects of an argument with Mammon would be resolved in a day, maybe two tops.

Leviathan:

Arguing activates his trolling the forums mode.

Goes back to calling you a normie and contradicts everything you say.

He’s less mad about the argument and more using the bitterness to cope with how upset he is.

He feels like a break up is less of an if and more of a when.

Why would someone as amazing as you settle for weird otaku like him?

Honestly doesn’t understand why you’re with him in the first place, so when there’s a serious argument he assumes its over.

Tbh don’t know how you and Levi would sleep together being that I doubt two could fit in a tub, but any deviation to your routine sends him into a panic.

It’s his reality check that the situation is serious and he needs to fix it NOW.

He’d have trouble apologizing in person. He can’t think of what to say, he stumbles over his words, and he feels like he’s on the verge of a panic attack.

Instead, expect a long ass text message.

He says how sorry he is, how much he misses and loves you, and legit begs you to forgive him.

If you sleep with him like normal, he’ll probably try to make up after laying there for awhile. His mind is going a million miles an hour and there’s no way he can sleep.

Still really has trouble verbalizing how he feels, so give the poor boy a break and take over the conversation.

He hasn’t had a serious relationship before and he doesn’t know what he should do to make it better.

So the after effects will last however long it takes him to read several mangas, watch some anime, and play a few games to see how the characters get over arguments in the story.

Satan:

Satan makes sure not to fight with you over minor issues.

He’s worked tirelessly to tame his wrath and he refuses to feed into it over a minor issue.

Thus, if you fight with Satan it’s a major argument and it’s explosive.

The aftermath isn’t much better.

He doesn’t want to risk blowing up again, so he’s frighteningly calm.

He’s an absolute master of the silent treatment.

He won’t say a word to you until he’s certain he’s calmed down enough.

For the first few days he’ll straight up leave a room if you enter.

For a good while the only way you can expect to communicate with him is through his body language and the expression in his eyes.

Satan’s biggest fear is losing control and lashing out at you. 

He couldn’t live with himself if he hurt you and he can’t stand the thought of you being afraid of him. 

He’s a whirlwind of emotions, so he isolates himself until he can figure out how to deal with it.

Not just from you, but from everyone else too. 

Satan will not share a bed with you for at least the first night.

If he got worked up enough to actually fight, it’s gonna take him time to simmer down.

And he’d rather not risk doing or saying something he regrets in the meantime.

Once he’s ready, he’ll approach you when he’s completely calmed down and has thoroughly analyzed the situation.

He’s considered both of your sides, tried to pinpoint what caused the disagreement to turn into a fight, and made a plan of action to prevent it from happening again.

“MC? I’ve been thinking quite a bit about what happened. Would you please talk it through with me?”

He won’t apologize for the argument if he feels like he was right, but he will apologize for letting the disagreement escalate into a fight.

Satan could go weeks without making up if necessary, but he tries to resolve it within a couple of days.

Asmodeus:

Wants to give you the silent treatment, but is physically incapable.

He can’t stand to have you ignore him.

He’s the type to go back to normal then suddenly remembers you guys had a fight.

“Wait, no! I’m not talking to you! I’m mad at you!”

His biggest downfall is that he’s so stubborn.

If he thinks he was right, he will die on that hill.

There are arguments with his brothers that happened a thousand years ago and he could still tell you exactly why he was right.

But with you, he realizes that doesn’t matter too him nearly as much as it usually does.

If it means going back to normal, he’ll forget who’s right or wrong.

If you sleep in another room, he’s beyond offended.

“What?! Well fine! I don’t want you in my bed anyway!”

Laying in bed alone is a different story though.

He can’t sleep. All he can think about is you. Your face when you sleep next to him, your smell, the feeling of his arms around you.

He 100% cries.

Finally goes and knocks on your door with wet, glossy eyes.

“MC? Can we talk about this? I can’t get my beauty sleep and my tears are wiping off all of my skin care lotion!”

Will throw himself into your arms before you can answer.

If you sleep next to him still, he rolls over and watches you sleep.

It puts him at peace and he decides seeing your sweet, resting face every morning is worth more to him than the argument.

He’ll initiate the conversation the next morning.

I think Asmo could make it a few days if it was a really serious argument, but he will not function well until you make up.

Beelzebub:

Wants to make up immediately.

He doesn’t like to argue, even less so with you.

Whether he was right or wrong, he blames himself. He’ll take all the blame in the world if it makes you happy.

He’ll go make you your favorite food and bring it to you.

If he thinks you don’t want to talk to him, he’ll leave it outside your door and text you to let you know it’s there.

He’s honestly devastated if you decide to sleep in another room.

You guys migrate to your old room when you want privacy from Belphie, but you almost never sleep separately.

Seeing you grab your pillows and march out of the room nearly stops his heart.

He goes completely numb and silent as he just stares at the space you had just occupied.

Like Levi, he thinks this means the relationship is over and he genuinely does not know what to do with himself.

He can’t even bring himself to eat, he just wants to lie there, lost and trying to grapple with his emotions. 

He’s another one who will absolutely cry, but unlike Asmo he will make sure no one knows it.

If you still sleep in his bed, he’s very nervous about it.

He doesn’t know if it’s okay to touch you, what he can or can’t say, stuff like that.

He just lays there stiff as a board not even able to close his eyes.

Honestly the fight would probably have to be resolved before bed. His anxiety just can’t take it.

I don’t think he’d initiate the apology. Not because he doesn’t want to make up but because his confidence is rock bottom in these situations.

He catastophizes and honestly thinks you hate him.

If you don’t initiate the apology soon, Belphie will. He can feel what his twin won’t say, and he knows Beel won’t approach you about it for fear of making it worse.

Belphie will lock you two in a room if that’s what it takes for you to make up.

Belphegor:

The embodiment of if looks could kill.

He won’t talk to you, won’t look at you, basically pretends you aren’t there.

If he must interact with you he’ll roll his eyes and sigh the whole time.

Tries to sleep through any interaction so he doesn’t have to deal with it.

He feels almost betrayed by the fight.

He thought the relationship was stronger than to have such a huge divide, so he’s really insecure about it.

After the first day, the anger has melted away to guilt.

He ‘s not guilty that you fought, but he is guilty about how he treated you after.

Guilt and self-blame have become unwelcome friends at this point. Guilt over Lilith, over his plans to destroy the human world, everything.

But more than anything else, the guilt for the fact that he attacked you weighs on him every day.

He moved past it quickly after, essentially pretending he hadn’t killed you, but that’s because he just couldn’t confront what he’d done. 

He feels like the luckiest demon alive that you forgave him, let alone  opened you heart enough to love him, and now it’s all in tatters.

Another thing to regret.

If you decide to sleep separately, it’ll hit him like a bag of bricks.

“You - what? Where are you going?” 

It’ll take him a second to process what you were doing, but then he’ll roll over and let you leave.

“Fine. Don’t let the door hit you.”

No one will see him for awhile. 

Belphie sleeps all the time anyway, but he just can’t make himself get out of bed.

If you don’t approach him to apologize, Beel will tell you that he’s been nauseous and randomly emotional which must mean his twin is coping very badly. 

Will beg you to go make Belphie happy again. 

If you sleep in his bed still, the argument will be resolved by morning.

He can’t keep himself from embracing you in his sleep, and it’s hard to say you’re mad at someone when you wake up in their loving arms.

It’s hard to pinpoint how long it could last with Belphie. If you don’t apologize first, he won’t let himself be conscious long enough to approach you.

This is both my first hc post as well as my first obey me post so I’m sorry if le boys are ooc. I just got this idea and couldn’t stop thinking about it so here we are.  Especially Belphie, he was hard to me for some reason. Let me know if you guys agree or disagree and if you want to send a request or ask, my box is open! 

[ophie-writes]

Cuddle Headcanons

Me? Posting twice in like a day?? Woah.

I said I'd post some cuddle HCs, and here are what came to mind for J.D., Mark, and Brian! I had sm fun thinking these out!!

Warnings: nsfw mention, otherwise nothing else!

Words: 758

Jason Dean

We know this boy is HANDSY

He already had an arm around you at pretty much all times.

His abandonment issues manifest in a million different ways, but one of them is holding you tight. Even when it’s clear to you that you’re not going anywhere, there’s a part of him that thinks you’re gonna leave, so he’s holding you as snug as possible.

It’s not uncomfortable per se, but you feel safe wrapped up in his arms.

You’re gonna get a lot of hugs from behind, sometimes when you least expect them.

Which by default means J.D. is the big spoon of course. Expect plenty of neck kisses and soft words of praise mumbled in your ear while his arms are around your waist.

Once he feels more confident in the idea that you’re sticking with him long term, he’s a bit more soft around you.

Sure, he’s still as dominating as ever, and is still pulling you aside for sloppy makeouts (and quickies) wherever and whenever.

But J.D. starts feeling more comfortable being on the receiving end of cuddles.

His back facing your chest in bed, with one hand on his chest under his arm, and the other running your fingers through his hair.

J.D. has never really been much of a sleeper, but he can find some much needed rest knowing that he’s the one who’s safe in your arms.

Mark Hunter

Being on top of this boy however you can is your favorite thing to do.

Mark shares in the sentiment.

He doesn't ever have a problem with holding your weight either. every time you brought it up he'd say you were like a cuddly weighted blanket.

It doesn’t matter where you’re sitting or laying down, he’s basically your pillow.

How are you not supposed to lie on his chest when he has such soft sweaters and flannels? His worn jeans are the perfect place to rest your head when he’s broadcasting on the couch.

Once when your head was in his lap, he plopped a small pile of letters on your stomach and started reading from them. It took everything in your power not to laugh and make them topple over.

Another instance of head to lap contact was being driven back from dinner after one of Nora’s art shows. Your social battery was dead, and you all had stuck around at the diner for a couple of hours.

Nora and Janie took the front while you and Mark were in the back. You were exhausted, but found the strength to play twister with your seatbelt, and move it about so that you could lay horizontally across the back seats, head on Mark’s lap.

He took the opportunity to trace your features. Index finger running along the bridge of your nose, your jawline, and making circles around your cheeks,

Next thing you knew, you were back home, and falling asleep on his chest again.

Brian Kelly

Brian is also the kind of guy who’d kinda always wanna be touching you in some way.

He’s not possessive like J.D.

Just,,,, fidgety???

And you’re right there, so expect near constant hand holding, and things of the like.

Cuddling with Brian is unconventional as all hell, but it’s adorable.

It’s always a mess of different limbs, but you make it work.

Someone’s leg always happens to find a way over someone else’s, hands are usually locked tight, and heads are resting wherever there’s space.

There are some cuddle positions that just stick though.

Like don’t get me wrong, you two can get comfy anywhere but one of your favorite positions is lying with your head on his abdomen, the rest of your body between his legs, with one of your own legs casually draped over one of his.

You utilize this position whenever possible. Whether it’s chilling at your place watching a movie, or capping the day off at the skate park at sunset watching the others have their fun.

It also gives Brian free hands to mess with you.

Man’s hands are in your hair, holding your hands, booping your nose over and over, or cupping your face and squishing it around until you both just collapse into a pile of giggles and a tickle fight ensues.

When you’re sleeping, it's kind of an equally chaotic experience. Brian is absolutely the type to splay out on the whole bed. And you know what? Fine. So will you!

Once again, another tangled mess of arms and legs and kisses.

[aqricus]

as a gal who's 5'10, i don't see enough of short men dominating the reader w/o reader being short so.... chuuya who's in love with tall women, and who loves making his own feel so small under his grasp. forcefully arching your back and making you fuck yourself onto his dick, the tears of embarrassment and arousal making him even hornier as he grabs your neck and drags you flush against his chest, making you sit on his cock as his head just barely lays onto your shoulder. "c'mon, tell me who's yours?" he teases, the two of you knowing he won't move till you say otherwise. "yours! m'yours, please don't stop!" you sobbed, the response being a thrust so hard you rise a little and fall on his cock, the scream being an unknown mix of pleasure and pain. "it's good, but not enough. why don'cha give me a real response?" he says lowly, the tone making you shudder. "p-please, chuuya, i'm all yours, and i want you to prove it-" you tried to say in the most composed voice you can muster, till your boyfriend has you two fall onto the bed and twisting you around to face him. "good answer, darling." he finishes, the last words you hear before he folds you in half and puts his entire pelvis onto your dripping pussy, pubes covered in cream. and all you see is his face, focused as he gives you deep thrusts, up n down as his dick fills your entire self till your eyes unfocus, facing away till he forces you to look at him. "scream my name, y/n. want you to cum yourself stupid on my cock." he asks, before your eyes roll back, cumming all over his shaft as he follows suite, filling up your pussy to the brim with cum as if he wanted you to be all nice n round with his babies. through gasps, all he could say is "i love you." and he very much does. chuuya who's in love with tall women, but none match a candle to you. - 💋

OMG YES. seeing short/small reader as the default makes me sad sometimes. like i'll open up a chuuya fanfic and see the reader standing and resting their head on his chest or being the perfect height for forehead kisses from atsushi and i'll immediately close out of it because my 5'8" ass could never. OR I'LL SEE CHUUYA WITH A SIZE KINK because the reader is five feet tall. like if people wanna write it, that's all good. i write some of it, too. but the lack of tall!reader is....... glaring, tbh. usually, people automatically equate tall reader with being a dom, which i agree, there is indeed something powerful about looking down at your partner (even slightly), but tall sub readers? 💳💥💳💥💳💥 we need more representation.

I LOVE THE IDEA OF CHUUYA WITH THIS KIND OF SIZE KINK. you being taller than him but him making you feel small? the selfship with him hitting REAL hard right about now. heart fluttering n shit.

presses his hand down on the dip in your back to deepen it into a proper arch, the shit-eating grin curving his lips betraying the underlying strain in his voice as he chuckles, "c'mon, don't go all shy on me, now. throw that ass back for me, baby." coos when the support of your arms caves and you collapse forward onto the mattress, white-knuckled fingers twisting the sheets into your fists and every pitiful moan and whimper muffled by the pillow your face is currently planted in. he palms your ass, too, entranced the way the supple flesh ripples so enticingly as you shift back to meet each hard drive of his hips into yours. thinks you look so adorable, all of your concerns and the power your aura commands melting away under his touch until your fuzzy, needy, little brain can't worry or think about anything other than how good you feel.

and when he pulls you up against his chest, ass flush against his thighs, and sees the tears of combined embarrassment and pleasure streaking your face? it's a huge ego boost. you can almost feel his cock pulse inside your walls. he wraps an arm around your waist to hold you still on his lap, hand splayed across your lower abdomen where he's sure his fat cock is prodding against your sweet spot, based on how whiny and squirmy you get every time his body so much as shifts under you. he's such an ass, refusing to fuck you properly until you admit that you're his. it's not like you're denying it, though. he simply isn't satisfied until you're almost screaming it, regardless of how difficult it may be for your scrambled brain.

when he kisses the back of your shoulder, you can feel him smiling against your skin. it's wolfish and adoring and amused all at once, the only warning you receive before he's flipping you onto your back with startling ease, bullying your pretty legs up into a mating press, and stuffing his thick cock back inside your cunt with an obscene squelch that pulls the cutest squeak of embarrassment from you that chuuya has ever heard in his life. yep, he def has to get you pregnant. no questions. if you're this adorable now, he can only imagine how stunning you'd look with your belly all round n' swollen with his child and your pretty tits heavy with milk in preparation. but, he thinks as he feels you gush milky-white around his cock and sob against his lips, if he's going to knock you up, he's going to make sure it takes tonight.

[esamastation]

Breath of the Wild snippet

Link is bored. It's a little startling how easy it's to see – how easy he's to read these days. Where before, hundred years ago, he'd been as unreadable as a brick wall, a look of serious determination as though permanently etched to his face, now he's an open book, covers flung wide. The serious frown still makes an appearance, of course, it's his default expression, Link's face simply rests in a way that makes him seem as though he's almost scowling, but now, should an emotion cross his mind… he does nothing to hide it. 

Like now, as his attention strays and his eyes wander and every so often he smothers a sigh or a yawn or a longing look directed at the door. It's in part painfully and in part endearingly clear how little attention he's paying to their meeting, and how much he wishes he could be elsewhere.

Zelda smothers a smile and then realises she's allowed herself to be distracted, and quickly turns her attention back to the meeting taking place in Impa's house.

"... a little difficult to test," Purah is saying. She's sitting cross legged in the middle of the floor, her seat cushion abandoned and papers flung about her – most of them about her anti-aging rune. "I can't even promise the test subject will survive the process, never mind that it will work even fifty percent of the time... so finding people to volunteer has been an issue."

"What, no old folks interested in regaining their misspent youth?" Robbie asks with a slight snort, adjusting his goggles. "I'd happily test it, if my work wasn't too important to risk!"

Purah gives him a look. "Well, duh. Most folk are the same," she says and shakes her head. "And besides, the population and age statistics don't exactly trend towards the elderly these days. The average life expectancy of both Hylians and Sheikah both trend about forty years younger than it used to be pre-Calamity. And the only way for people to reliably grow old these days –"

"Is to have a family or other support network, helping them," Impa muses, rubbing at her chin. "Which means they have things too dear to lose, for an uncertain chance."

"Just so," Purah says and folds her little arms, adorable in her seriousness. "I did post queries around Hateno village, of course, but I only had a couple of takers, and they all turned tail when I explained the risks. And we can't improve the chances without further testing. And we can't do further testing without candidates. And we're not likely to get more candidates with the chances being what they are - it's a vicious circle." 

By the door, Link looks ready to nod off. 

Zelda hums, looking at the papers Purah had brought, conflicted. It's incredible work, just as a concept, and Purah hadn't just left it at theory – and the results certainly speak for themselves! Purah is now, what, hundred and twenty, hundred and thirty years old? And she looks as though she is a girl of six, with all that time ahead of her and not behind. If the technology could be made reliable, it would no doubt change the future in ways Zelda can scarcely imagine… for the better, she hopes, for all the people of Hyrule.

But right now, she has more selfish reasons to make enquiries into the rune.

Zelda looks at Impa, sitting on top of a pile of pillows, her weathered, aged face thoughtful. Their eyes meet and Zelda steels her resolve. "Might there be any potential candidates in Kakariko village, Impa?" she asks.

"Hmm. I doubt it. Young Zain, maybe?" Impa muses. "Well, he's not so young. He's in his seventies, he has bad knees and no surviving relatives to support or be supported by. Bit of a sour grape, that one, though. Sceptic. Hard to convince."

"I'm sure if the Lost Princess and the Hero who stopped Ganon ask for it, anyone would be happy to give it a go!" Robbie says, slapping his folded knees. "Especially if they learn what it's all for!"

Zelda smiles, wincing, and looks down. Using her standing for such a thing… sure she'd done things of that nature before, pleading people to join their cause, ages ago… but never with the risks so high, and potential results so uncertain. She'd never liked asking people to risk their lives, for her or otherwise. Even with a cause so important...

"It would be a somewhat awkward thing to ask, though," she muses and looks down. "It is an awkward thing to ask. I'm… I'm sorry to have to ask it of you."

After all this time, all these years, all the service they'd already put in, to ask for so much more of them… but she had to. No one woman could rebuild a kingdom by herself. She needed help, she needed allies – she needed Impa and Robbie and Purah. With such a foundation, Hyrule might yet rise, better than ever, but for that to ever happen… Impa and Robbie needed to go through what Purah already had, and extend their already prodigiously long lives even further. They all deserved their quiet retirement, after all the effort they'd put in, but for Hyrule, Zelda would make this cruel request.

"Ha!" Robbie says, striking a pose. "Like I wouldn't do this without being asked! As soon as Purah can improve the odds – no, as soon as we can improve the odds –"

"What's that, you old coot, what do you mean by we?" Purah depends, bouncing to her feet. "If you think I will let you ever into my lab, mister, you're sorely mistaken –!"

"If we work together, combine the efforts of Akkala and Hateno tech labs, we're sure to succeed! With Cherry's incredible computing power and your Stone –"

"Your creepy ancient furnace is getting nowhere near my Guidance Stone!"

Link startles awake at the noise they're making and Zelda smothers a giggle while Impa sighs.

"I will ask Paya to check in on Zain, maybe he will be interested," Impa says and shakes her head. "But it's still a small test study, with only two subjects. I'm sorry, Zelda – as much as I wish to do this, I am with Robbie on this. The chances are too low and I have too much to lose, right now. Paya is nowhere near ready to take over for me here. There needs to be more candidate's, first, and I don't know where we can get them. But," she hums and looks away. "There might be someone who does."

Link yawns and then freezes, finding all of them staring at him. Then, clearly baffled, he points at himself quizzically, and Zelda offers him a smile.

Impa chuckles. "You've been all over Hyrule now, Link – you've traveled farther than probably anyone has in a hundred years. Better than anyone, you know the state of her people. Do you think there is anyone out there who might be interested in Purah's study – in regaining their youth, even at a risk?"

Link scratches the back of his neck thoughtfully and then takes out the Sheikah Slate, opening the map with an easy, well practiced wipe of his fingers over the screen. Zelda leans in, once more amazed – and a little jealous – of how far he'd gotten with it, how full of markers the map is. Hundred years ago, she'd estimated that there might be as many as a dozen sites of ancient Sheikah technology all over Hyrule. Link had discovered over a hundred. They now glow on his map, like glittering blue gems, the Towers and Shrines he'd seen and mastered.

Link zooms in on the map and then puts down three other markers. One in Zora's domain, one in Gerudo Town and last in Lurelin Village. Turning the slate around, he shows the map to everyone.

"Of course," Zelda breathes in realisation. "The Guardians never reached so far, so their populations were never so scattered or scarred. In Zora's domain, in Gerudo Town and in Lurelin, people can grow old peacefully, without fear of attack."

Link makes a face and a wobbling gesture with his hand and then shrugs. Zelda smiles, sadly. "Aside from monsters and other disasters and misfortunes, of course," she agrees. "But without fear of attacks by Guardians, they were allowed to prosper."

"Not the Rito, though?" Robbie asks, his goggles whirting and shifting like the eyes of a gecko as he looks between the map, Link and Zelda. "Or the Gorons?"

Link shrugs, rubbing at his neck.

"Gorons age like rocks, Daruk always said," Zelda muses. "And I suppose with Rito it can be difficult to tell their ages. If we send out invitations to the study, we should include them as well – assuming that the treatment by the rune isn't Sheikah exclusive…?"

Purah rocks back and forth on her feet thoughtfully, almost as though she's about to dance. "I… don't know? I calibrated the first version based on my own physiology, so it might be best to stick to Sheikah and Hylians for a start – but I can't see why it couldn't be adjusted. Gerudo are closer in structure to us than Rito and Gorons, or Zora for that matter. Might be best we start there, when we begin making modifications to include everyone."

"So, begin with Lurelin," Robbie says and nods. "How do we do that?"

"We'll make some posters and Link can zip in and out of Lurelin Village to post them," Purah says and strikes a pose. "It's just a snap for the Sheikah Slate."

Impa hums in agreement. "Best we make advertisements for Kakariko and Hateno as well, and perhaps some of the stables," she muses. "You never know who might take us up on it, and getting this technology to work at hundred percent will be a benefit to everyone."

"You're right," Zelda agrees, nodding. "Purah and Robbie, I suppose you two know best what should go on the poster. Can you make it?"

"It'll work much better, with your name under it," Robbie points out.

"We'll write a draft and you can copy it and put your royal touch and seal to it," Purah says and does an excited little dance. "This is so exciting! We'll get so many applicants and my little Guidance Stone will get to do it's thing!"

Zelda offers her a smile, all the while wondering, not for the first time… how much of a royal she even is, at this point. With the castle in ruins and the Kingdom in shambles, with no one to rule it for a hundred years… all that Zelda is now... is a story. The Princess that went to fight Calamity Ganon as the Kingdom fell asunder all around her. Not many even believe it. That might change with this meeting and the following cooperation, especially when they'd begin reaching out further, but right now… 

Princess of nothing indeed.

"So much was lost," Zelda murmurs, carefully resting her hands in her lap to keep herself from wringing them. She shouldn't concentrate on the losses. Not when there's so much to do. "It will be good to build something for a change. To improve things."

"Indeed," Impa says, nodding her head, her heavy hat tilting. "But if Calamity Ganon taught us anything, it is that we should take all due caution."

"Yes. And speaking of which," Zelda says and lifts her eyes to Robbie. "Your research in Akkala – I would very much like to hear more about it. Link showed me the armour and weaponry you made, they're very impressive – how did you manage it?"

Robbie all but launches himself into the story of Akkala Ancient Tech Lab, the research he'd done there, the progress he'd made, enthusiastically recounting the creation of his Ancient Furnace, Cherry. Zelda leans in, allowing herself to be drawn in, and by the door Link settles down with a sigh and begins nodding off again.

-

Hmm hmm. Took me 3 years, but I finally finished botw.

I might continue this one and it might end up a Stargate crossover. Who knows.

[badgirlcovenrep]

omg chenrich prompts? hell yeah!! Okay so how about immediately after the council meeting? Steph taking Alex to the hospital because u KNOW its steph who takes her to get treated

As is expected I got a little carried away 😁

So this is a bit of a mix between chenrich in the hospital and medical grade painkillers Alex lol

Hope you enjoy!

No one could have prepared them for that community meeting. Steph shook all over just to think of Jed luring Alex into the woods. Of him leaving her for dead in some awful mining hole.

It made her so furious. Even hearing him cry, blabbering like a sad shadow of the man she'd known (the man that was all a charismatic lie, showmanship, to hide the disgusting truth) her anger, her hurt was too fresh for the girl to gather any sort of sadness for him.

"I'm sorry, Ryan," Alex repeats, standing at the bar with them.

Ryan is staring, speechless, at his father's crying shadow.

"I'm so sorry-" she tries to take a step forward, but her feet falter, and Alex nearly topples over to the ground, grunting in pain as Steph jumps to hold her elbow and help steady her into the floor once again.

"Fuck, Alex, you need a doctor." Steph insists. But Alex is looking at Ryan with so much concern that she can't get her to move.

"It's not your fault, okay?" Ryan finally speaks, breaking out of whatever haze he'd been in to look back at her, "It's not your fault. I just- need a moment to process all this. Go with Steph, you're hurt."

Alex finally looks at her then, and Steph can feel herself plead with her eyes - because she might not know a lot about these sorts of injuries but she's smart enough to know - just by the way she's swaying back and forth on unsteady feet - they probably have another minute, at most, before Alex collapses.

"You did it." Steph mumbles, voice filling with unbridled pride as well as urgency, touching down Alex's arm to hold her cold hand, "You did it, ok? You can settle down now."

Her brown eyes are hazy, blinking back to Steph with rapidly heavying eyelids.

"Good. That's- That's good." Alex slurs back, the last reminiscent of adrenaline leaking out of her body in a heavy huff, "very, very good-"

Steph barely has a second to process what is happening before Alex's body gives out. By some miracle, she's able to flip her arms around her shoulders just fast enough to stop her from falling to the ground.

****

Pike helps her take Alex to the local hospital before going back to deal with Jed's arrest.

It's a small hospital and probably has about ten rooms, but given that these sorts of things (bad things) rarely ever happen in Haven Springs, they're quickly given a private room, and Alex is just conscient enough (before she passes out from the painkillers) to tell the staff she could stay.

Steph doesn't think she would have left either way. Not without knowing Alex was alright, but it's good to have permission to sit by her as she fluttered in and out of drug-induced, heavy sleep.

The doctor had given her the run-down of the other girl's injuries. Five broken ribs, stage two trauma to the head - probable concussion to be assessed once she was more awake - a punctured lung, internal bleeding all around the ribcage, and a bullet wound to the shoulder.

She was an absolute mess of scars. A walking, breathing miracle.

Steph had heard the doctor talking to the police when she stepped out to get some snacks at the vending machines. "She should be dead." He said, with such conviction and surprise, it made her stomach turn.

Steph felt that she could do nothing but sit by Alex's sleeping form, slowly realizing that she was absolutely screwed. Because she already liked this girl way too much - and God, what a roller-coaster of emotion she'd been put on the last month - but how could she not? When Alex just waltzed into everyone's lives like this determined, selfless little light? When she was so obviously a rare soul, made of so much sweetness, and softness, and strength, Steph doubted she'd ever come across someone like her again?

Looking at the circumstances from the other side now, it seemed as inevitable as any of it.

"I can feel you thinking." Alex's voice startles her out of her thoughts. Steph looks up to meet her tired brown eyes, looking so soft and vulnerable without her glasses and surrounded by clean hospital sheets, "You've been broody lately."

Steph giggles, choking on her own emotion, "Guess I'm still mad about Jed." It's not a lie. She is upset. But there was a lot more than that, more about how her insides swelled with emotion when Alex looked at her - but she leaves it the way it is.

"I forgave him." She shrugs. And Steph knows she did, she was there after all, but that didn't mean the drummer was quite as ready herself.

"Well, I didn't." And maybe that makes her childish - resentful - but she can't take the image of him pointing a gun at Alex out of her head. The image of him pulling the trigger, sending her off to what could very well have been death - "at least you made him cry like a baby."

"Jerk." Alex smiles, eyes squinting back at her in humorous indignation before they slowly turn more vulnerable as she adjusts herself on the mattress, patting the empty space beside her body, "Can you- come lie down with me?"

There's nothing, truly, that Steph would have liked more. She would take any chance of being closer to Alex (and of getting off the uncomfortable hospital chair) but she was also still afraid - still scared something might go wrong and they'd lose her. "Are you sure? You're hurt."

"Please?" Alex pleads, blinking back at her with honest-to-God puppy eyes, even if still a little glassed-over from the amount of Vicodin they were pumping into her veins. For the umpteenth time in the past few days, Steph has even more confirmation that she is screwed.

Because, honestly, there's nothing Alex couldn't get her to do with just a slow blink of her brown eyes.

So she gets up and climbs into bed with her. It's incredibly tight for two people, and they are instantly pressed together as Alex scoots over the pillow so they can look at each other, alone in this hospital room that smelled like industrial-grade detergent.

Alex reaches forward and takes her cheeks between her palms, so very close Steph can't help but catalog all the cuts and bruises covering her face.

"You're so pretty." The girl says, finally, and Steph can hear the tiny slur in her voice. She's probably still drunk on a shit ton of medicine, but it does nothing to stop the drummer from blushing profusely, "you're, really, really pretty. Have I told you that?"

"Hm- yeah you sorta- do that when you're on painkillers." Steph comments, and her eyes can't help but fall to Alex's mouth.

She has a tiny cut on her lower lip, and Steph's fingers itch to touch it. To feel her skin again, like that night on the roof, when she felt so warm and tingly, like a live wire of electricity that could swallow Steph whole. For now, she holds her distance.

"But it's true." Alex pouts, "and you're really hot when you're protective too."

Now that- that was different from anything she'd said before. And when she looks up, the girl realizes Alex's eyes have turned to stare at Steph's lips too.

"Yeah?" She asks, a little too cocky given the situation, but oh well, you can't blame her for the swell of pride that takes over her chest.

"Yeah." Alex teases back, "Thank you. For taking care of me. For being mad at Jed for me- even if you can't do anything about it." Her tone turns sincere, and her eyes flutter everywhere but Steph's face, Alex's dead giveaway that she was trying to hold something back.

"Oh please, I'll rip his mustache off." Steph jokes, because it's her default strategy when she doesn't quite know what to do, "You have lost your right to upstanding citizen facial hair, sir!"

"Fuck, Steph, don't make me laugh." Alex says as a few stolen giggles escape her lips, creating ripples across her shattered chest that made her hiss with pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Steph apologizes, and on instinct, she leans closer to run her hands over Alex's arm in reassurance, holding the weight of her body above Alex with her elbow.

From this angle, they were even closer, and Steph was staring at her from above, watching Alex smile at her, head on the pillow and a half-lidded, humorous expression on her face.

"Oh, this is nothing. Just a few cuts compared to my fighting days." She jokes, and Steph's heart is filled with so much concern, so much love for this girl she can't help but fluster with anger.

"Shut up. You're gonna hurt yourself if you don't take it seriously." Steph says, "you're like, seriously hurt, Alex, you could have died."

Steph wants to ask, but Alex's free hand reaches forward and pulls her closer, fist tightening around the collar of her button-up shirt, and suddenly they are so close her hand shakes with the itch to touch her, "See? Protective Steph is so hot."

"I know. I'm sorry." Alex has the decency to look reprimanded, smoothing one hand over Steph's shoulder in a simple act that sends calming waves over Steph's flushed skin, "I'm okay. I promise" she's being sincere, Steph knows she is by the way she frowns slightly in concern. However, there's a quiet, teasing smile spreading across her face.

And Steph honestly used to think she was smooth.

She made girls blush by the minute. Awoke the bisexuality in at least a few of her drunk makeouts on the way from California to here. She used to be a real flirt, ready for anything a pretty girl could throw her way. But sitting here, with her torso half hovering over Alex Chen's body, her tongue feels heavy, and her brain can't conjure a single thing to offer in response.

It's at least a relief that she doesn't say anything, because a second later, Alex is smiling at her with her coy, knowing little smirk, and pulling her in for a kiss.

Steph is far too focused on not crushing her further, very deliberately placing her hands on both sides of her head to better hold her weight, but she still feels the strong, dizzying zap of electricity as Alex's lips touch hers, her lungs filling with liquid, warm waves of emotion.

And maybe, Steph thinks, it'd be fine if she never breathed air again.

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Contact Comfort

Spencer Reid x (gender neutral) Reader

Word Count: ~2000

Warnings: None, really? Emotional hurt/comfort and sorta like a touch starved deal doing on, but it’s pretty thoroughly fluffy and sugary-sweet. 

A/N: For the “bed sharing” square on my @cmbingo​ card! 

Title is from the referenced psych study, because I’m a dork. 

“One sec,” you call, wincing at how thick and nasal your voice sounds.

You wipe your cheeks hastily as you sit up. It’ll be obvious anyway, though; wouldn’t take a profiler to notice your tear tracks and blotchy face. 

It’s Spencer. Of course it is — because he’s the last person you want to see you like this, when you’re all snotty and puffy and gross. 

His eyes go wide and solemn when he sees your face, genuinely distressed. There’s that empathy again, the too-big heart that everyone seems to overlook in favor of his big brain. You love him for it. 

Well, you love him for a lot of things. 

“Hi,” he says quietly. “I was going to just ask if you were okay, but… I guess I don’t actually need to ask now.” 

You let out a watery little chuckle. “Guess not.” 

“You want some company?” He looks hopeful, almost, and then seems to catch himself, dropping his gaze with a shrug. “I understand if you just want your space, though.” 

If it was anyone else, you absolutely would not want company right now. But it’s Spencer, so. You pretty much always want him around. 

“I was just about to turn on some shitty TV because it felt too quiet in here, honestly. Company would be really nice.” 

He gives you a quick twitch of a half-smile as he steps past you, and after you close the door, there’s a pause where you both stand there and look at each other, Spencer suddenly shy as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, in a thin unhappy voice. 

“Not really. Just… one of those days. One of those cases.” 

“Can I do anything to help?”  

You hesitate, because it seems like such an immature thing to say out loud, but you’re too tired to be anything other than honest.

“I could use a hug.”  

Spencer’s expression goes all soft and sweet, and your cheeks feel hot under the drying salt water as he steps closer. He wraps his arms around you, and you bury your face in his chest and try to inhale. Your exhale is a ragged little shudder, and you fist both hands in the back of Spencer’s cardigan as you cling to him, feeling raw and sensitive and so very young. 

He lets out a quiet, shaky sigh of his own, squeezing you tighter. 

How long has it been since anybody hugged you like this? It’s like the contact — the warmth of him — the pressure of his arms around your shoulders — the rise and fall of his chest under your cheek — is lifting some massive weight you never realized you were carrying. All you want in the entire world is to hold him tight, take the comfort while you can, but you know you should pull away. 

He hesitates for a second before releasing you, like maybe he doesn’t want to let go either. 

Then he’s stepping back, hands in his pockets, slightly pink-cheeked as he bounces on the balls of his feet and gives you one of his frog-faced not-quite-smiles. 

“You said something about shitty television?” he asks. “Or maybe we could watch some television that’s not actually shitty?” 

“That sounds perfect.”

Turns out Planet Earth is on, which is the rare overlap in your and Spencer’s tastes, and it’s not until you’re eagerly toeing off your shoes that you realize the bed is the only seating option. 

Spencer sits cross-legged, with his elbows on his knees and his chin propped on his fists, and he stays as close to the edge of the bed as physically possible. You lean back against the headboard and hug your knees to your chest, feeling the need to hunch over, like you could physically protect your heart. 

Then again, it’s much too late for that. You knew your heart was in trouble the moment you met Spencer. 

Today, especially, you already feel vulnerable, like all your carefully-constructed walls cracked open the second you let yourself cry, and now you’re just ripped-open and bare. You need a good night’s sleep and a long, hot shower before you’ll be able to go about your life as a professional, fully-functional, grown-up human again. Right now you’re just kind of a mess.  

“I know there’s the germ thing,” you blurt out, without looking at Spencer. “But —” 

His laugh sounds crackly and nervous, but relieved, like maybe he’d been holding his breath. “Come here.” 

You give him a grateful smile as you scoot closer to each other, and apparently you’d been so worried about your own swollen eyes earlier that you hadn’t noticed the fatigue evident in every drawn, wan line of his face. 

Not that he isn’t still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

You duck tentatively under Spencer’s arm, and it’s not like you’re cuddling, exactly, because there’s still an inch or so of space between your hips and legs… but the bony plane of his chest, between collarbone and heart, makes a surprisingly perfect pillow. You pull the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, tucking them under your chin, curling up.

The moment feels delicate, like a soap bubble that you could burst if you simply breathe too loudly, and you hold yourself stiffly, at first, not wanting to move any closer for fear of pushing a boundary. It feels like you’re glowing at the points where your bodies are touching; the warm weight of his arm feels like bright spring sunshine across your upper back. His palm on the round of your shoulder is thawing away the last chilly bits of your self-consciousness. 

When the commercial break starts, Spencer says, “Do you ever think about how little physical contact the average single adult experiences on a regular basis?” His voice is quiet and almost sheepish. 

You smile. “Yeah, I’ve considered it.” 

“Especially when we live away from our families,” Spencer says wistfully. 

You can feel the vibration of his words in his chest. You shift, making yourself more comfortable, feeling dazed and dumb with his proximity.

“The monkeys. I feel like — you know?” 

“Harlow. I know exactly what you mean.”

Trust him to get that from your ridiculously vague mumbling.  

“Except they’re babies,” you add. 

“The emotional benefits of physical touch don’t decrease just because we get older,” he says softly. “It’s just that the fear of judgement makes it difficult to be honest.”

There’s silence for a minute as the show starts again, and David Attenborough says something about sloths. Spencer’s thumb strokes your shoulder gently, back and forth, soothing. It’s hypnotic, and the tension drains from your muscles, leaving you more relaxed than you’ve felt in a long time. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. 

You swallow hard. “For what?” 

“Being honest.” 

There’s no reason for your eyes to be stinging like this, but they are. “I should be thanking you.”

“Nothing to thank me for. This is… really nice.” 

“Yeah. It really is.” 

He’s quiet again. 

Spencer smells like vanilla and old books — although the latter might just be your imagination, something to do with the power of mental association — Spencer could probably explain the science behind that. Your brain has them inextricably linked, though. You’ve caught hints of that smell before, but never up close like this. 

The softness of the worn knit of his cardigan makes you want to rub your cheek against it like a cat. His arm, skinny as it may be, feels like protection — like you’re safe here. 

After the brutal violence of the case and the emotional turbulence of the day, this quiet, golden moment is even more breathtakingly peaceful by contrast. It doesn’t feel real. 

It’s too good to last. This isn’t yours. It’s not going to last, no matter how right it feels, and your chest already aches with the idea of letting him go.    

You try to appreciate it while you can, to remember every sensation, but your body is leaden, exhausted down to the bone, completely drained of whatever adrenaline-stubbornness-caffeine combination was keeping you running until now. Spencer’s thumb rubs invisible circles on your shoulder, and he breathes evenly, and you feel safe. 

You’re asleep before the next commercial break. 

A distant car alarm wakes you, sometime later. In the handful of seconds before it’s turned off, you come to without opening your eyes, trying to remember where you are and who you’re with. The smell of vanilla makes you relax instinctively, before you can process why. 

Spencer has all but melted against you in his sleep, soft and boneless. He’s got both arms around you now, holding you close, his breath tickling your forehead. Then he stirs, and you can feel the moment he realizes where he is, because his muscles go tense as he freezes. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs hoarsely. He’s barely audible over the infomercial voices coming from the TV. “I didn’t mean to — sorry. I’ll go.” 

And before you can think better of it, you whisper, “Don’t.” 

He’s still frozen, and silent for a second that feels like an eternity. “You mean —”

“I don’t want you to leave. Stay.” 

Honesty seems to be your default setting tonight, and anyway, you can tell without looking at a clock that it’s long past midnight, well into the early-morning hours where boundaries and reservations and reality don’t seem to follow their usual laws. You can’t lie to him (or to yourself) right now. 

Spencer’s voice cracks as he says, “Okay. I’ll just — let me get the light.”

You don’t open your eyes as he slips away. This all seems like a dream, and the sharp bright lamp light might make it dissolve around you. You might wake up. 

The TV goes quiet, and when you tug at the hotel comforter, sliding between cool sheets fully clothed, the barely-there rasp of moving fabric sounds loud in its absence. 

Spencer turns off the lamp, and you open your eyes. You can just see his shape as he navigates the dark room, negative space on a charcoal backdrop, but as your vision adjusts, you can see a faint suggestion of his features in the blue-black. 

You feel it, though, when his weight makes the springs of the old mattress dip. You’d expected him to lie on his back again, but instead his face is just inches from yours when his cheek comes to rest on the pillow. You feel the way he’s breathing, quick and shallow and nervous. You feel your heart kick in your ribs, thudding so loud he must be able to hear it. 

He reaches out slowly, hooking an arm around your ribs, and pauses with just the very tips of his spidery fingers touching your back, between your shoulder blades: five soft points of contact that you feel so intensely they might as well be electrode pads connecting you to a defibrillator. 

This is crossing a line, and you both know it. 

It’s not a sexual touch, it’s not that sort of thrill going through you, but something about this feels profoundly intimate. That intimacy is almost more shocking than lust might’ve been, and it’s much more dangerous. It’s the sort of closeness you don’t walk away from unscathed.  

Spencer’s fingers flutter, butterfly-wing delicate, like one or the other of you might be trembling. 

“Are you sure this is okay?” he whispers. 

“Yes.”  

Maybe you’re both trembling. 

His palm comes to rest on your back, easing you closer, and you shift, settle, readjust. He pulls back and tilts his head just long enough to brush his lips over your temple, soft and sweet, before tucking you neatly under his chin, where you fit like you were meant to be there, with your nose nudging at the gap between his collar and the delicate skin of his throat.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispers, sounding just as awed as you feel. 

“Sweet dreams, Spencer.” 

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More Criminal Minds fic is here. 

[beneathstarryskies]

Hi! Can I just say that I'm soooooooooooooooooooo happy someone writes DMC content? I feel like there's not a whole lot of that kind of content on here that suits my needs!!!!!!😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

My request is maybe Dante NSFW alphabet? 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴 plz and thnx

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Dante’s aftercare is a little rusty. Most of his sexual experience has been one-night stands which ended with either him or his flavor of the night leaving pretty shortly after their heated rendezvous came to a close.

His favorite thing though is long, intimate cuddle sessions and silly pillow talk. If you want something to eat or drink he’ll get it for you (although beware his go-to is gonna be ordering pizza.) He would also be totally down for showering together if you wanted to. If you have more aftercare requirements, you’ll likely have to guide him through it. Dante really wants to do good for you. Give him some guidance, and he’ll happily oblige as long as it makes you feel good.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Dante is confident in his entire body, honestly. He’s muscular and strong, he knows he’s a good looking giy. He is a little bit cocky about it as well. However, if you worship your favorite parts of his body he will be inclined to include those as his favorites.

Dante loves the sound of your laugh, and would do just about anything to have that sweet sound caressing his ears. Especially when accompanied by that bright smile. His favorite thing is when he makes you laugh during sex or while making out and you bury your face against his neck to try to cover it up.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Oh, Dante is definitely weak for cumming in your mouth. He loves it when you’re on your knees in front of him with his cock down your throat, and watching you make a mess of yourself trying to swallow his large load. He would also love painting your skin with his cum.

Dante makes you cum as many times as possible. He loves the way you feel around his cock and how soaked he gets in your juices. But even more than that, he loves pleasing you. The way your name falls from his lips so passionately, and your hands tug on his long hair. He loves knowing he made you feel so good.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Oh the number of times Dante has jacked off at his desk with lewd thoughts of you running through his mind. Sometimes he even gets a pair of your underwear and holds it to his face while he’s jacking off. With his heightened senses, he is practically surrounded by you. He can almost imagine you’re there instead of his own hand.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Dante is experienced, but maybe not quite as experienced as he tries to make out to be. It’s mostly been quickies and one-night stands. Nothing very intimate, so while he knows technically what he’s doing he might need a little help actually learning your body. He’s pretty eager to please, and he has good instincts.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position involving you on his desk drives him wild. It’s just something he really enjoys a lot. Especially having you bent over so he can fuck you from behind, and expect to get spanked.

However, he also enjoys lazy, spooning sex in the bed. Bonus points if it’s in the morning and you’re both still a little sleepy and uninhibited.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Dante tends to be a little bit silly during sex. Sometimes cracking jokes, or just doing random things to get a giggle out of you. He likes to unwind and he loves making you laugh. If you need a more serious moment, he can accommodate that. And there will be times he just wants to be more serious and intimate. Dante also at times requires a bit of comfort sex, although he’ll never actually call it that. He’ll just be a bit more needy and clingy than usual.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is actually a pretty hairy guy. He’s got nice, soft white chest hair. A patch on his stomach that leads into his pants. His pubes are a bit more gray than white, and it’s coarse. On his own accord, he will let it go wild. In a relationship, he’ll put a little more effort into keeping it trimmed up. However, he’d really prefer not to be clean shaven.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Dante usually tends to be more laid back, but he will also make you feel like the only thing that matters in the whole world. He gives a lot of kisses and soft caresses. Between silly jokes or absolutely filthy dirty talk, he’ll confess how much he adores you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jacks off a lot, often purely out of boredom. If he’s alone in the office, it wouldn’t take much effort to walk in on him stroking his cock while sitting at his desk with a dirty magazine open. Sometimes he even tries to time it so you will catch him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lingerie is a big one for Dante, but also he would be into a sexy school girl outfit. Slight corruption kink, and he absolutely has a daddy kink. Spanking. Semi-public sex.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The comfort of your own bedroom is nice when he wants to take his time with you. As mentioned before, he also loves fucking you on his desk. He also has a weakness for sloppy sex in less than ideal places like a bar bathroom or an alleyway.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Dante gets turned on pretty easily, but will often play hard to get just because he likes it when you try to seduce him. Hearing you beg for his cock and smothering him in affection is the easiest way to get him going. He likes feeling loved and wanted.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Dante doesn’t want to risk doing anything that could hurt you, and with him being half demon he’s all too aware that it’s a possibility. He might be down to experiment a bit with devil trigger, but he has his limits with it and he’s pretty steadfast in his limits.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Dante has a slight preference for receiving. At times he has to remind himself to return the favor. Not to say he doesn’t enjoy giving, because he does. And that mouth is good, okay? The man can go down like no other. But sometimes he gets so turned on by having your pretty little mouth around his cock, that he gets ahead of himself and just wants to sink himself into your pussy immediately afterwards. He’ll make it up to you though.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends. He defaults to fast and rough because he tends to get totally lost in the pleasure and wants to pound into you. However, there are times he just wants to go slow and feel you all around him. These are the times when he’s feeling needy and wants to give and receive a lot of affection.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He enjoys quickies a whole lot, and will never turn down the chance. It’s a pretty regular occurence, especially if he has to leave for a job but wants to fuck you before he leaves.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Dante is pretty adventurous, and there are very few things that are off the table as far as he’s concerned. It just depends on what the risks are.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Oh boy...He has amazing stamina. He can pretty much last as long as he wants to, and can go for multiple rounds.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Dante has never really played around with toys too much, but he’s absolutely open to it. He’d be weak for having a vibrator used on him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is such a tease. Hearing you whine and beg is music to his ears, and he will keep it up for a long time because he knows he’ll make all the teasing worth it for you. Also, he really enjoys teasing you at very bad moments. Like having dinner with friends? Don’t be surprised if Dante starts rubbing your pussy under the table, but never putting enough pressure to get you off. So by the time you leave, you’re basically dripping wet and absolutely infuriated with him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Dante talks a lot, and this is no different with sex. He’s big into dirty talk. He also tends to let out a lot of primal sounds like growls and purrs. Pretty much always lets out a deep growl when he cums.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Dante is a braggart. He loves fucking you very loudly when he knows people can hear because he wants everyone to know how well he can fuck you. This is also a bit of a possessive thing, but he won’t admit that.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His cock is about 9 inches and very girthy. There’s gonna be a stretch every time he slides it inside of you, but he is aware of this and will take his time to let you adjust before getting rough.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Dante’s sex drive is ridiculous. He is pretty much down to fuck anytime, but he doesn’t let it get in the way of pressing matters.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He falls asleep pretty easily afterwards, and sometimes he won’t even warn you. You’ll be cuddling in bed, and then you just hear him start snoring.

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

how do the papas and ghouls like to cuddle?

CUTE!! I went with Era IV ghouls, if that's ok!

Papas + Ghouls Favorite Way to Cuddle

Papa Nihil: You know this man expects nothing less than cuddling together when there's a marathon of 'The Omen' on TV! There will always be one of those handmade knitted blankets he keeps for the occasion! Nihil loves the classic way of both of you facing the TV and resting your head on each other's, OR having you rest your head on his shoulder while he rests his cheek on top of your noggin. So long as no one is blocking the TV, he is fine!

Papa I: It's not the most COMFORTABLE way to cuddle, but Papa LOVES having you in his lap while he works. He likes to do this a couple of ways, depending on what you find better. Either having you on one of his thighs with your lags across his lap OR sitting between his thighs while he works around you. There is something sensory wise that makes this so lovely for him. But he won't say not to moving to the bed or couch. After all, staying like that for too long might mean getting cramped or having his leg fall asleep!

Papa II: Is not one to want to cuddle often, so when he does it feels very special. Papa typically will lay on his back and have you tucked under his arm. He likes to keep you close to his side while he rubs your back or arm. While he typically waits for you to initiate cuddling most times, the only time he is vocal is WHERE you cuddle. If it's not on his lavish bed or chase longue he will be grumpy about it. There are some positions that just aren't comfortable and he wants this time to be relaxing.

Papa III: Prefers to cuddle in a way that allows you both to face each other! That way it's easier for the two of you to talk or gaze into one another's eyes (romantic cliches are mandatory!) Papa, however, is very sneaky when it comes to snuggle time. You will never cuddle in a way where you physically CAN'T play with his hair. Papa loves all forms of this gentle contact, but if he had to pick a favorite it would be nestled under your chin, face in your neck, and you playing with his hair.

Papa IV/Cardinal Copia: Absolutely LOVES to be the little spoon, if he can! Preferably if you have your face in his hair or chin resting on his head or shoulder. Admittedly, Copia can be a bit selfish when it comes to cuddles as he wants to be the one who is spoiled. Play or kiss his hair, hold him from behind, and whisper sweet nothings to him. You will have the new Papa eating out of your hands!

Ember: Many people always assume Ember would be unwilling to admit that he loves cuddles and soft intimacy, but it couldn't be farther from the truth! The guitarist LOVES to cuddle and will take every opportunity he can to get them! Even if it means being a huge brat! Ember doesn't mind most cuddle positions so long as you are planning to play with his hair or give him horn scritches. He's like a very demanding cat that constantly needs pets!

Swiss: The King of Snuggles and Cuddles, if he were to say so himself! Like Papa III, Swiss prefers most cuddling positions where you two are facing each other. Yes, because it's easier to talk and just relax with one another. But, it's also easier to do other small intimate gestures that he likes. Swiss is all about to touch and relishes any chance he has to show you affection. He's all about caressing and cupping one of your cheeks, kissing your forehead, or even booping your nose as a joke!

Aether: Nothing makes the guitarist happier than him comfortably on his back and you laid on top of him. The weight of his bedmate on top of him relaxing has always been a huge comfort to him. Aether has jokingly referred to you as his teddy bear on more than one occasion! This is usually accompanied by his arms securely around you as you listen to his heart beat.

Cirrus: Will be big spoon EVERY time. Cirrus has just never been as comfortable being the one being held. She prefers being the one 'protecting' her lover during snuggle time. Especially during sleep. The keyboardist will usually have her arms wrapped around your middle, or one arm draped around your shoulders. What's really cute is sometimes her tail will wrap around you too, for extra protection!

Cumulus: Loves cuddling when you are propped up by some pillows, first. Cumulus prefers being between your legs when you both cuddle, so she can use you as her favorite pillow! This can be one of two ways with her. One, she has her back to your chest so she can lean back and you can both do something like watch TV. or Two, she's turned to face you so she can nuzzle into your neck or chest.

Mountain: Because of his size he's used to being the bigger spoon, so he doesn't mind if that's the default. But Mountain always appreciate when you want to cuddle in a way that you are both level with each other. Loves when you mutually have your arms wrapped around each other in a tangle of limbs. He sleeps best when you are there to hold- even if it's just bear hugging your arm or leg while he sleeps.

Rain: The absolutely cuddliest ghoul you will ever meet. He simply can't pick a favorite way to snuggle because they are ALL amazing. I think as long as you are with him he won't be disappointed. But if he absolutely had to pick one position it would definitely be the two of you koala clinging to each other. So having your arms AND legs wrapped around one another. Not practical, but Rain loves getting so close! Bonus if it's under giant fluffy blankets.