#it has not helped my inability to fall asleep

[heartysworld]

Love, Lando, Milo // LN4

Lando Norris x Female Reader

Where Milo turns out to be more supportive than his dad

W. C: 2k

A/N: Milo has become a constant in my Lando fics, but since I don't see anyone complaining, I will keep on including him

MASTERLIST

The night was still. The kind of stillness that should be soothing, but instead, it felt heavy and uncomfortable. You shifted again, trying to find a position that didn’t make your back scream in protest. It was nearly impossible. Every time you thought you had it, your bladder demanded attention or a new wave of nausea rolled through you.

You tried to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb Lando more than you already had. His breathing was steady and deep beside you, the sound normally a source of comfort. But tonight, it only highlighted how restless you were. You turned again, hoping to find that elusive comfortable spot, but it was no use.

Around 3 AM, you got up for what felt like the fifth time. You shuffled to the bathroom, your swollen feet aching with every step. After relieving yourself, you wandered into the kitchen, craving something to eat. Anything to soothe your grumbling stomach and kicking baby. You grabbed a banana and slowly made your way back to bed, hoping this time you wouldn’t disturb Lando.

But as you slipped back under the covers, Lando stirred and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“Again?” he mumbled, his voice tinged with irritation.

“Yes, again,” you snapped back, unable to contain your frustration anymore. For the past few days, Lando's been complaining about your midnight adventures around the house as his sleep schedule struggled as much as you did if not even more. At first, you didn't say anything, apologizing and closing your eyes in an attempt to fall asleep. However, as the days passed you felt like your were getting lonelier by the hour and evem more responsible for your fiancé's discontent with the situation in your own home, the sleepless night and constant tossing and turning.

“I’m pregnant, Lando. It’s not like I’m enjoying this.”

“Well, I’m not getting any sleep either,” he retorted. “I need to be in top shape during the season. This lack of sleep isn’t helping. No wonder I haven't been able to get anything done for the past week. It's useless.”

His words felt like a slap in the face. Tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them. You felt overwhelmed, emotional, and incredibly vulnerable.

“You think I don’t know that?” You choked out. “You think I want to be up all night? I can’t help it! Im supposed to enjoy my pregnancy and relax as much as possible before our baby arrives! In reality, I'm feeling guilty and responsible for both mine and your inability to rest well! ”

Milo, sensing the tension and seeing your tears, started barking at Lando, tugging on the leg of his sweatpants as if to say, “You upset mom! Fix it!”

“Great, now I’ve upset the dog too,” Lando muttered, but his anger was already dissipating, replaced by guilt. He looked at you, seeing the tears streaming down your face, and his heart broke a little.

You didn’t wait for him to say anything else. You grabbed a blanket and headed to the spare bedroom, which was soon to be the baby's room. You moved as quickly as possible, your belly preventing you from moving with your usual pace. The room was quiet, and the rocking chair near one of the windows looked inviting. You opened the window next to you to let some fresh air inside the room. You settled into the fluffy cushions on the chair, pulling the blanket around you. Seconds later, Milo trotted into the room after you. He lifted himself onto his back legs, his front paws supporting his weight against the upholstery of the chair.

You lifted the little man onto your lap, smiling as he snuggled against your belly as if he knew you needed comfort.

''There hasn't been a day during which I've regretted your arrival into our lives, my tiny love." You said as you caressed the soft fur between his floppy ears. Milo's cold nose occasionally bumped against the palm of your hand as he sniffed around.

The tears flowed freely down the cold surface of your face, silent and hot in contrast. You stroked Milo's fur, the rhythmic motion helping to calm you down. The rocking chair creaked softly as you rocked back and forth. The movement seemed to help soothe your loud inner voice that kept producing negative thoughts one after another.

Some time passed, and you weren't sure how long. The door creaked open, and you saw Lando standing there, his expression mixed with regret and sadness.

“Baby, ” he whispered, stepping into the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just…I'm stressed. But that’s no excuse.”

You looked up at him, the tears still glistening in your eyes. “I’m trying, Lando. This isn’t easy for me either.”

He knelt beside the chair, taking your hand in his. “I know, love. I know. I’m an idiot. I should be more understanding. Please come back to bed. You need your sleep. We'll solve this in the morning, okay?”

You nodded, wiping your tears. “Just… don’t forget we’re in this together, okay?”

He leaned in and kissed you, soft and gentle, his lips lingering on yours. “I promise. Come back to bed? We can figure this out together.”

You stood up slowly, Milo jumping down to the floor. Lando wrapped an arm around your waist, guiding you back to your bedroom. The bed felt warm and inviting, and as you settled back in, Lando pulled you close as much as your protruding belly allowed him.

Milo jumped onto the bed, curling up at your feet where he usually spent his nights. Lando kissed your forehead, his hand resting on your growing belly.

“Goodnight, baby. I love you” he whispered.

“Goodnight,love you too.” You replied, feeling his warmth and love surrounding you as sleepiness began to take over your tired body.

The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You woke up feeling a bit more rested, your body still aching, but your heart felt a little lighter.

Lando was already awake, propped up on one elbow, watching you with a soft smile. “Good morning,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Morning,” you replied, smiling back. Milo stretched out beside you, having moved up on the bed during the night , now wagging his tail lazily.

“How are you feeling?” Lando asked, concern etched in his eyes.

“Tired, but better,” you admitted. “Thank you for coming to get me last night.”

“I’ll always come for you.” He said, his voice full of sincerity. “We’ll get through this together.”

You spent the morning in bed, talking and laughing, enjoying the calm before the chaos of the day. Milo provided endless entertainment, his antics making you both laugh.

That evening, after a long day of preparing the nursery and spending quality time together, you were exhausted. You fell asleep as soon as your head hit the soft surface of the pillow. Lando stayed up a little longer as his mind kept wandering.

He looked over at you, your face serene in sleep, and his heart swelled with love. He gently placed his hand on your belly, feeling the slight movements of your growing baby.

“Hey, little one,” he whispered softly, not wanting to wake you. “I know I need to be better for your mom. She’s doing so much already, and I need to support her more. She needs her sleep, and I shouldn’t have been so harsh.”

Milo tilted his head, watching Lando with curious eyes before settling back down. Lando chuckled softly, patting Milo’s head.

“We’re a team,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “Your mom, Milo, and me. We’re going to be a great team, and we’ll always be here for you. I promise to be better.”

He leaned in and kissed your belly, then your forehead, before settling down beside you. Milo snuggled up at your feet, the three of you finally finding a moment of peace.

As you slept, you felt Lando’s hand still resting on your belly, his presence a comforting anchor. The journey ahead might be filled with challenges, but with Lando’s love and support, you felt ready to take on the journey of being a parent.

MASTERLIST

Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[jishyucks]

⋆.˚ Twinkle, Twinkle ˚.⋆ — lmk (Teaser)

‣ pairing: mark lee x reader

‣  genre: fluff, friends-to-lovers

‣ current wc: 5.6k (so far), about 65% done, predicted 10k

‣ summary: The world is sick and tired of your and Mark’s inability to understand feelings. With a friendship that has lasted longer than you can count on your fingers and friends who can tell you’re both utterly in love with each other, the universe decides to make use of its different light forms to tip you both over the edge of friendship.

‣ warnings (so far): some cliches?, like one kms joke, mentions of alcohol, mentions of vomiting (cause of alcohol)

‣ an: this idea has been rotting in my drafts since like February and i finally got the motivation to write it yippeeee,,, tag list maybe? just ask!

Without light, it’d be awfully difficult to see (duh)

Mark’s bed was the 2nd most comfiest bed in the world, a close runner-up to your parents’.

His mother truly chose the perfect pillow for you to use, paired with a blanket that complimented it well. They both smelled like fresh laundry, an aroma you were familiar with because your best friend smelled exactly like this.

The clock on Mark’s nightstand reads 12:23 AM, moonlight pushing past his closed shutters to emit a bit of its light into his room. Its light does poorly, giving the glow-in-the-dark stars on Mark’s ceiling a chance to emerge through the darkness.

Your mind’s filled with thoughts of the conclusion of the movie you both had just watched—Tangled—and your younger self could not help but think…

“Mark?” you called out into the darkness, “Mark, are you awake?”

There’s shuffling in the space next to you and then you hear Mark hum, “I’m awake. Why?”

You hesitate to ask the question that’s been keeping your brain occupied ever since the credits started rolling. But knowing Mark, he wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

“Do you…”

You can barely see Mark’s head lift up to look at you in the darkness, bedhead creating a jagged outline.

“Do you think I’ll ever fall in love and get married like Rapunzel did in the movie?”

Your mind replays the clips of Rapunzel and Eugene underneath the lanterns, lights creating a scene you’ll never forget for the rest of your life.

Mark hums again, something that he did when he was deep in thought. Your question wasn’t too far-fetched. He’s overheard a lot of the other girls in his class talking about crushes they’ve had on other classmates or squealing over that one idol he couldn’t remember the name of. The only difference now was that these thoughts were coming out of you.

“Do you think you won’t?” Was Mark’s reply.

At the time, you really didn’t know what you were saying, barely having the knowledge to understand the deeper meaning of it all.

Love and marriage? You weren’t aware that you had skipped practically everything before that.

“I think so.”

Mark doesn’t reply for a long while, long enough to convince you that he had fallen asleep the second you answered his question. But when you feel the bed dip, you can make out that he is now sitting up and reaching for his lamp.

Click!

You let out a quiet hiss, squeezing your eyes shut because you’re suddenly blinded.

Mark snorts, “Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

There’s movement on his end again, the blankets softly rustling. You’re not sure what Mark was trying to do, but once you finally open your eyes, the first thing you see in the lowly-lit room are his eyes shining back at you, mouth opened slightly because he was going to say something. He’s propped up on his elbows, crushing the barrier pillow between you both.

“Why’d you have to turn the light on?” You scoot yourself up to face your best friend.

Mark shrugs as chews on his bottom lip in search of words, “I just feel like it’ll mean more if you could see me saying it.”

“Saying what?”

“You’ll find your happily ever after,” Mark says seriously. You can tell just by the way he looked at you that he was serious. Not even a hint of kidding looming behind his pupils. You forget that Mark was such an optimist.

Your brows furrow, unsure whether or not you should take this boy seriously. “And how are you so sure about that?”

Mark’s eyes reflect the light coming from his lamp and he grins. It’s almost creepy the way he does, like he has something hidden up his sleeve.

“I just am.”

[strwberri-milk]

hii !! i really like ur works and writings, can i request for the LAD boys with a reader who has a hard time sleeping? thankuu💗💗

oh you mean ME - hopefully these turn out well bc theyre all based off my own experiences :(( i def agree that 1) resting w your eyes closed is better than nothing and 2) i would sleep so much better if i was sitting in rafayels studio as he worked but for now his tender moments shall have to suffice

Xavier unfortunately does not share your struggle at all :(. He very easily falls asleep so his main issue is just staying awake. However, when you tell him that you're struggling to fall asleep he decides to do things that make him extra sleepy for you.

He'll change the temperature of his apartment to be more comfortable for you, dropping it a few degrees so you could cuddle with him easier under the sheets. He also has lots of comfortable clothes for you to wear when you sleep, holding you close to him as he softly speaks to you.

The conversation doesn't really mean anything - it's more just like white noise that you can tune out to to try and focus on something that's not your inability to sleep. He's there with you every step of the way, doing his best to wait until you fall asleep to go to bed himself.

Zayne reminds you that even if you can't sleep simply just resting with your eyes closed is much better than nothing. He'll make sure your sleep hygiene is also top notch, reminding you to stay away from your bed and that you're doing work or mindless scrolling away from your bedroom.

He'll also encourage you to keep busy during the day - the more you move the more tired you'll get, hopefully. He isn't going to make your day center around going to bed but he is going to do his best to help you.

When night comes he'll be there however you want him. He'll hold you close or talk at you until you finally manage to sleep, whatever it is. He's not going to want you to go right to medication but he might grab some things over the counter and help you find your best fit if that's something that you need.

Rafayel is ASMR extraordinaire. When you tell him that you can't sleep he isn't really sure what to do other than make bedtime as appealing to you as he physically can.

One night when you can't sleep you decide to hunt him down, knowing that he was going through another bout of no sleep thanks to his artwork. You stumble into his studio drowsily, wiping your eyes. He's immediately at your side, the soft music playing paired with his gentle touch as he leads you to a seat he bought specifically for you to be able to watch him as he works.

You watch him for a bit but the quiet music with his brushes against the canvas knocks you the fuck out, falling asleep shortly thereafter. He won't notice for a few hours, just thinking you were watching him paint but once he's figured out you've fully fallen asleep he'll put you back in bed. You've accidentally conditioned yourself to fall asleep at the sound of painting though which is both good and bad.

[claymoresword]

We Bleed The Same | Part: 1

Cersei Lannister x Stark Fem!Reader 🐺

Summary: On the road from Winterfell to King's Landing, Cersei and y/n find themselves reconciling with both old and new feelings as fate seems determined to tear them apart.

Sequel to 'Where's My Love'.

Wordcount: 4k

Pairing: Cersei x Reader

Warnings: smut, g!p reader, mentions of sexual violence & domestic abuse, breeding kink, blowjob/deep throating, unprotected sex, dubious consent, co-dependency, y/n & cersei are soulmates argue with the wall

Note: This was actually a lot of fun, I already can't wait to put out the second part! Anyway, hope you enjoy this one as much as i enjoyed writing it (smut after asterisks)

You have been on the road for what feels like an eternity, the children are growing restless, and so are you, but King's Landing is still weeks away. Your next destination being Castle Darry, by order of the king.

Robert Baratheon is rather fond of his pit stops, and you have half a mind to strangle him for that.

What is meant to be a few weeks on the road has turned into months of long-winded journey.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat for the hundredth time, leaning back against the cushions.

You are certainly looking forward to sleeping in a proper bed, whenever that might be.

Just as you start to grow somewhat comfortable, the litter jerks to an abrupt halt, forcing you to lean forward.

Ned places a firm arm in front of his girls to prevent them from falling forward the same way you had.

“Why have we stopped?” You ask, exasperated. Subsequently, pulling aside the curtain next to you to look out the window, only to be greeted with darkness.

You hadn't realized it was already nightfall.

As you squint, you only manage to make out an open field– the scenery does look beautiful, but this isn't the castle.

“Maybe the king needed a piss again.” Arya remarks, trying her best to look over your shoulder.

You narrow your gaze at your niece, and her inability to keep her thoughts to herself. Although there is full possibility that the girl was correct.

The king had delayed the possession half a dozen times today to relieve himself.

“No..” Sansa utters. “He's being sick.” She observes, and it is swiftly followed by the sound of Robert dry heaving.

You grimace at the noise, no longer concealing your annoyance.

Robert has stopped the journey half a dozen times to do that as well.

“Perhaps if he didn't drink so much..” You start, although your brother interjects before you can say anything else.

“Be quiet, the lot of you.” Ned scolds, and you have to bite back a retort as you petulantly glance out through the curtains again.

Eventually, the litter resumes movement, and you rest your back once more, allowing your mind to wander.

Cersei is no doubt feeling as miserable as you are, if not more.

Had you been given leave to ride with her, perhaps this journey would not be half as excruciating.

You missed her, you crave to hear her voice, to touch her, kiss her.

If you fail to reach Castle Darry by tonight, you aim to find a way inside the queen's litter. Robert is certain to be too drunk to notice anyway.

The journey continues on for several more hours, the repetitive movement of the carriage begins to lull you, you could only fight it for so long before a deep and dreamless slumber manages to take over.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

“Y/n.” You stir to Ned's voice, his hand on your shoulder is like a jolt to your system; you sit up abruptly.

As you come to your senses, you notice that the litter has stopped, Arya and Sansa are no longer beside you.

“We're moving into the castle, I need your help carrying in the food crates.” Ned explains, pulling open the curtains next to you.

“What hour is it?” You ask groggily, still trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.

“I don't know.” Ned responds truthfully. “but I reckon we'll see first light soon.” He finishes, yet you fail to move.

“Come on, you've been asleep for hours.” Your brother insists, he grabs ahold of your hand, forcibly hoisting you up.

As he tugs on your arm, you stumble out of the litter, leaning your weight on Ned as you attempt to find your footing.

You shove him away after you do, scowling at your brother, and his very successful attempt at manhandling you.

“When we get back on the road I am riding on horseback. I'm sick of sitting in that damned thing.” You grumble, gesturing to the carriage behind you before smoothing out your cloak and running your fingers through your hair.

“As you wish, but I refuse to listen to you whine about saddle sores.” Ned says, approaching the stack of crates.

“I am a woman grown, I do not whine.” You contend defensively.

Ned does not heed your remark, nodding towards the large crate impatiently, he braces his hands on the underside of it. “Come, help me.”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Castle Darry sits atop of a hill in the Riverlands, the climb was steep enough to knock the wind out of you.

By the time you enter through its doors, your chest is heaving. “Seven hells–” You mutter under your breath, although you are quickly distracted by the interior of the palace.

Darry had decently high ceilings, the castle is larger on the inside as it appeared on the outside. Somehow modest and grand all at once.

The stairs, large and winding, are set at the center of the main hall leading up to the bedchambers.

Robert picked a decent place this time around, you'll give him that much.

You stroll past the stairs towards the castle's great hall, observing as Ned approaches the table in the far right, next to a window that overlooks a view of the river.

You spot your nieces and nephews enjoying an early breakfast. Next to them are Cersei's youngest children, Myrcella and Tommen.

Sansa and Myrcella appear caught up in conversation, whilst Arya and Tommen are on their knees, busy feeding Nymeria pieces of charred meat.

Joffrey is nowhere to be seen. This doesn't surprise anyone, in truth. The prince along with his sworn guard often wander about on their own. The boy was always eager to find trouble where he can, that much is evident.

You begin scanning the rest of the hall, you notice the kingsguard along with the queen's men, but no sight of the king or queen themselves.

You can't help the disappointment that settles in your belly, you were hoping to get at least a glimpse of Cersei before heading to bed.

“Where is the queen?” You ask as you take a seat next to Robb and his half-brother, Jon.

You reach for the flagon of spiced wine, pouring it into a cup as you await a response.

Robb merely shrugs as he stuffed a piece of bacon into his mouth, and your other nephew decides to opt for a smart answer.

“With the king, I presume?” Jon remarks, insolent and juvenile.

You quickly wipe the smirk off his face by placing a firm smack against the back of his head.

Jon yelps, reaching up to rub the same spot you had just struck him. “What was that for?”

“I meant, which room is she in?” You rephrase, unamused before lifting the rim of your cup to your lips, taking a large drink.

A burst of nutmeg and cinnamon coats your tongue, when accompanied with the warm, bitter taste of wine, it manages to soothe you.

“I saw her enter the one upstairs, at the end of the hall.” Sansa chimes in, making sure to swallow her food first before addressing you.

You turn your attention towards your niece, a look of gratitude paints your features. “Thank you, Sansa.”

“Hopeless, the both of you.” You remark, reaching out to mess up Robb's head of auburn hair.

You relished the way both boys scowled at you as you left the dining area.

-

You trudge up the steep stairs leading to the bedchambers. Glancing at the row of rooms to your left, and then to your right.

You mentally curse yourself for failing to clarify with Sansa exactly which room the queen had taken as her own.

After a moment of deliberating, you decide to take a risk, approaching the room on the far left, one hidden behind a large pillar.

You knock twice before resting your hand on the pommel of your sword.

A beat passes and no one answers, though just as you move to walk away, the door opens, and a golden-haired beauty emerges from the dark room.

Your smile happens involuntarily as you pale greys catch Cersei's emerald gaze. Though the queen doesn't reciprocate, instead she pulls you in for a sudden hug.

After a fleeting moment of confusion, you embrace her in return. Your hand rests on the small of her back, the other gently threads through her golden curls.

As your gaze wanders, it is only then you notice a tear in her robe. The silk material fails to cover the bruising on Cersei's arm; the sight makes you stiffen.

The queen fails to speak, so you decide to break the silence first.

“Is everything alright?” You ask, expecting the answer, but Cersei does not grace you with a verbal reply, merely hugging you tighter.

“Do you want me to stay here tonight?” You whisper instead, your lips brush against the shell of the other woman's ear.

Cersei remains quiet for a while, as though considering your request. She pulls back slightly to look at you, her gaze softens as she traces your features with her thumb.

“You can't, Robert's in my bed.” She finally says, and your brows furrow at the prospect.

That old brute laid his hands on her again.

You open your mouth to protest, but as if expecting it, Cersei places her hand over your mouth, stopping you. “Don't– do not say anything, just kiss me.”

With that, the queen leans in, capturing your mouth with her own. The kiss is desperate, and anguished. Cersei moans softly into your mouth as your tongues make contact.

She tastes like lemon and arbor red, and you are content to feel her like this, for all eternity, although the way your lungs burn for air proves your desire to be an impossible one to uphold.

You break away first, tilting your head to kiss her neck. Cersei gasps at the sensation, her fingers clenched tightly around your hair as your mouth finds the base of her jaw.

“I want–” The queen starts, her voice trembling ever so slightly as your mouth continues to move along her tender flesh.

Eventually, Cersei finds the strength to tug on your hair, guiding your face to her own.

“I want to name you my sworn protector, when we get to King's Landing.” The older woman says suddenly. “I will declare it to the council myself.” Cersei adds, and she simply rakes her fingers through your hair at your lack of response.

“Then you'll have reason to be in my quarters.. in my company.. elsewise people will talk.” She explains, and finally, you nod.

The queen's sworn protector. Like you intended to be all those years ago, before things went wrong between the two of you.

“As you wish.. I am your servant.” You conclude, and for the first time tonight a smile covers Cersei's enchanting features.

Striking, delicate and so damned breathtaking.

“Good.” She says, pulling you in for another lingering kiss.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

--

The following week at Darry had been at best, quiet and uneventful. You spent most of your days with your brother and his children and nights waiting for everyone to fall asleep just so you could visit the queen.

Although, you did not have the privilege of seeing her last night. After a long day of hunting with Ned and Robert, you don't recall how you got back to the castle, only that you had awoken this morning with a pounding head.

Not exactly fond of hunting, you did so mainly out of courtesy– as to not give the king cause to be upset.

Robert is as unpleasant on a hunt as he is on any other day, if not more.

Naturally, you drank to dull the ache his company caused, as well as pass the time.

In truth, all you wanted to do is spend your days and nights in bed with Cersei. You had managed to steal moments here and there, but nothing enough to satiate your need for her.

All the more reason to look forward to King's Landing. Once you get to the city you'll be allowed to spend time in the queen's bedchambers under the guise of guarding her from harm.

Then, you'll finally be allowed to do whatever you desire with each other without the danger of being seen.

-

Tonight, in a welcomed change of pace, you find yourself in the Godswood with Ser Jory Cassel, dull blades in hand.

He is a capable sparring partner, however predictable he might be.

You remind yourself once more that he is a knight, he fights clean like most of them.

Most knights are predictable.

“I cannot be out here for much longer, M'lady. Lord Eddard has tasked me to watch over his daughters tonight.” Ser Jory says as he resumes his stance, lifting his blade.

You shrug, doing the same.

“I understand, Ser. I only mean to fight you until I grow bored.. which shouldn't take long at all.” You jest, and it manages to hit a nerve, as the knight takes a large swing at you.

You deflect the blow before swiftly maneuvering your body away with one foot, causing the knight to stumble forward.

Ser Jory recovers quickly, this time you strike first, and your dull blades kiss with a large clash.

You take the opportunity to get out of the position by flicking your wrist, as a result your sword is released from the blade lock. You twist the blade in your hand once before pointing it at the knight's neck.

The quickest win yet.

Ser Jory sighs, lifting his arms in surrender. “I yield.”

You lower your blade with a grin. Though the man yields quickly, far too easily.

Suddenly, you find yourself hoping the knight isn't letting you win on purpose, or perhaps he is just eager to get inside and resume his post.

Either way, you are not yet satisfied.

As you are just about to request for another round, voices in the distance steal your attention.

You glance over to see men from the kingsguard standing under the Weirwood, gossiping– albeit not very discreetly.

“They were arguing again, the king and queen..”

Ser Jory has since set aside his sparring blade. He walks over to a wooden bench in the corner of the Godswood to fetch his sword belt, fastening it onto his person.

“See you inside, m'lady.” Jory announces as he rushes back into the castle. Although you hardly hear him at all as you inch closer to the pair of knights standing under the Weirwood tree.

You remain partially hidden by the darkness as you listen to their conversation whilst pretending to focus your attention elsewhere.

“I heard she broke his nose.” The kingsguard says.

“He broke hers more like. That's why she sent her handmaids to fetch her a cold compress.” The other knight chimes in, and his words send an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

You turn away, thoughtlessly discarding the practice blade you were holding before grabbing your own sword.

You slip past the main doors of the castle before sprinting up the stairs. You pushed past the pair of guards at the foot of it as they took a moment too long to step aside.

As you reach Cersei's bedchambers you notice that her door is left ajar. You push it open, stepping inside in a panic frenzy, only to nearly trip over Robert's large frame.

The king lays motionless by the door, on a beautifully crafted Myrish carpet. His large belly spilling out of his tunic.

A compelling sight.

You look up to find Cersei standing by the window, a goblet of wine in hand. She smiles as your eyes meet.

Her hair is unkempt, her robe falling off one shoulder, but there is no blood anywhere on her, in fact she appears entirely unharmed.

You turn to shut the door, wincing as it accidentally slams into place. Yet, Robert remains on the floor, unfazed.

“Is he dead?” You quip, circling the king's motionless body and it earns a bitter chuckle from Cersei.

“No, just passed out from drinking too much, I'm afraid.” The queen responds, her own voice slurred.

The queen is drunk.

“Pity.” You remark, as a large noise erupts from the king. The boisterous and grating snore continues every time he breathes.

You tilt your head at the sight of him, Robert Baratheon is a beast, and the worst kind.

You sigh at the thought before turning around, only to find Cersei standing right behind you.

She reaches up instinctively, wrapping her arms around the back of your neck.

“Did he hurt you?” You ask softly, your own hands finding her waist.

Your jaw tenses as Cersei nodded in response.

A blind rage overcomes you then, the sound of Robert snoring agitates you beyond belief, fueling your resentment.

“I could kill him.” You mutter through gritted teeth, and Cersei merely re-focuses her gaze on you, an amused smile playing on her lips.

“You are so adorable.” She whispers, almost mockingly, her lips then meet your neck.

The feeling of her kisses upon your skin slowly causes your anger to dissipate, you find yourself conflicted.

“Cersei–” You attempt, but the queen's mouth against the shell of your ear causes your words to die in your throat.

**

“Take me to bed..” She says, the scent of lavender in her hair invades your senses, and you find it nearly impossible to think. You are urged to do as she asks, but logic and reason forces you to consider otherwise.

“What?” You ask, and you feel Cersei's teeth graze your ear, she bites your earlobe before pulling back slightly to look at you.

“I want you to fuck me– you do it so well.” She pleads, in a tone that nearly makes your knees buckle.

Cersei runs her fingers through your hair, uninterested in hearing you protest any further.

She escapes your embrace, though not letting go of your hand as she steps over Robert.

The king continues to snore loudly, you are beginning to think the man will not wake for anything at all. He might as well be dead.

“Come.” Cersei coaxes sweetly, tugging on your arm.

You let her guide you without a moment's thought, stepping over the king to follow the queen to her bed.

Cersei lets go of your hand to unlace her robe, she shrugs it off, allowing it to fall on the floor, leaving her as naked as her nameday.

The queen watches you disapprovingly as you stand frozen in place. You observed the way her hips swayed languidly as she approached you.

She reaches south to unfasten your sword belt, gripping your blade by its scabbard before placing it on the floor.

“You are not naked enough.” Cersei points out, with a slight pout. The way she continues to slur her words causes your heart to constrict in your chest.

Even like this, she is breathtaking.

Beautiful.. and so utterly twisted.

You are so in love with her.

Cersei sets her bottom lip in between her teeth with palpable excitement as you obliged her. Unclasping your dark grey doublet, tossing it aside before lifting your tunic over your head.

The queen decides to assist you with your bottom half. Brazenly palming your cock through your breeches, her shoulder slumps in disappointment, unsatisfied with the current flaccid state of your shaft.

“What's wrong?” Cersei asks, her hands move up your body to cup your breast before resting on the nape of your neck once more.

You are unsure of how to respond, you remain overtly aware of the fact that Cersei's husband remained asleep only a few feet away.

You turn to glance at the man but the queen is quick to force your head in place. “Don't look at him.” She scolds before leaning in to capture your lips with her own for a long kiss.

As you aim to slip your tongue inside of her mouth, Cersei pulls away with a demand. “Take off your breeches, come here.”

You observed as Cersei climbed onto the bed, settling on her knees at the edge of it.

The sight admittedly manages to excite you; you feel your cock begin to stir.

You remove your breeches in haste, ridding them heedlessly as you approach the golden haired woman.

Now you stand in front of the bed and Cersei remains in a kneeling position on the edge as she grips the base of your semi-erect shaft. Bringing it up to her lips, she kisses the tip, all while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck–” You groan aloud as Cersei finally takes you into her mouth, her tongue flat against your cock as she begins to suck.

You let out an unsteady breath, reaching down to grip a fistful of her hair, wary of not grabbing too tightly as you allowed Cersei to set her own pace.

The queen continues bobbing her head, taking your cock inside of her mouth in its entirety.

You feel her breathe out through her nose as she takes you in even deeper, pulling another groan from you as the tip of your shaft meets her throat.

You gasp as Cersei keeps going, you notice as tears begin to well up in her eyes before they flutter shut as she takes you further in.

The feeling of her swallowing around your cock makes you see stars, and it nearly causes you to finish right then and there.

“Gods above, Cersei–” You curse incoherently.

The queen chokes on your girth before leaning back to let your cock lay flat against her tongue once more.

She continues to suck dutifully, and you grunt, this time gripping her hair harshly to pull her head back.

You needed to take her, now.

“Enough, come here.” You state, and Cersei lets your cock fall out of her mouth.

She makes a noise of surprise as you harshly met her lips. Cersei kisses you passionately in return, pulling you down on top of her.

As the queen parted her legs for you, you don't give her much warning before reaching in between both of your bodies.

You line the tip of your shaft up to her entrance, and with one swift thrust, you enter her completely, filling Cersei to the hilt.

The older woman lets out a guttural noise at the sensation, followed shortly after by a whimper.

Cersei's nails dig into your back as her entire body trembles uncontrollably.

You turn to check if the king had perhaps awoken at the sound, but again, Cersei does not give you the chance, pulling you in for another kiss.

You decide not to heed caution any longer, you begin moving your hips, steadily increasing the pace.

If the king wakes, you will kill him.

Cersei mewls into your mouth as your cock hits the perfect spot within her, again and again.

Soon, you brace your hands against the bedding on either side of her head as you begin to rut into her wildly.

Cersei lets out a series of broken gasps and moans, followed by a louder whine when she suddenly reaches her peak around your cock.

You observed as the queen writhed underneath you with every thrust afterwards, she wraps her arms around your back weakly, pulling you in even closer.

You steal at the opportunity to take Cersei’s breasts into your mouth. Licking and sucking at them greedily.

She gasps at the feeling, and you soon earn another whine as you maintain your slow thrusts.

“Please..” The queen pleads, and the sound of her desperation alone makes you drunk.

“Fill me with your seed,” Cersei utters against your ear, her legs wrapped around your waist as though not allowing you the opportunity to disobey her.

“I want to feel it quicken inside me. I want to bear your children, your heirs. Only yours.” She continues, deliberately clenching her walls around your girth.

That does it.

Your release comes just as sudden, it is violent and unyielding.

Before you can even think of pulling out, your seed spills out in ropes, thick and warm, filling Cersei's womb, just as she wanted.

[starlightandfairies]

Ok ok I really love you! That's the last request hahaha I don't wanna annoy you ❤️ I had this somehow cute idea where you've fallen in love with him but he doesn't know and one time you get a little drunk with the girls, later deciding to grab a taxi to the Mikaelson house. Klaus is the one letting you in but Elijah already felt your presence and tries to keep you safe around Klaus, or as you start playing with their swords and stuff. Klaus watches with amusement at his brother taking care of a human girl and makes a comment like "better keep her before I do", and that wakes something in Elijah that he takes you to his room, just to keep you safe. You end up cuddled on top of him, admitting your love to him before falling asleep. He also realizes that he has feelings for you, but he decides to tell you properly in the morning when you wake up 😊😙

Description: A drunken reader leads to playful chaos between the Mikaelson brothers and feelings being revealed.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, drunkness, fluff, swearing

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

Thank you so again for requesting! No! You're not annoying me! I'm really enjoying getting requests so don't feel bad! I hope you also enjoy this one!

Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 1,156

First Person's POV

Girls' night out was amazing, I haven't had a night like this in ages, away from all the drama and finally able to just relax with the girls and just be us. I knew I was getting tipsy, I could feel my giggles becoming more and more prominent than normal. The girls were going home, so I decided to head towards the Mikaelson house, I stood on the street hailing a taxi and stumbled into the vehicle once it arrived. I asked to be taken to the address, the walk to the porch of the Mikaelson resident seemed like an incredible challenge, I'm sure that to an outsider I just looked like a fawn learning to walk but I felt as if I was climbing Mount Everest. 

I giggled to myself as I fell against the door, I sucked in a breath, trying to pull myself together as I knocked waiting for someone to answer. I was surprised when it was Niklaus, I waved almost childishly, smiling brightly at the Hybrid who clearly seemed amused by my current state.

In all honesty, I have no clue how I ended up sword-fighting with Niklaus, however, somehow this is where we ended up. Sword fighting in the parlour. I highly recommend it, however, do take care. I grinned brightly seeing Elijah walking forward with his usual look of concern plastered on his face, however, once he was at my side he smiled. 

"Good evening, Y/n, I didn't realise you'd be joining us." 

"Spur of the moment type thing." I turned my attention back to Niklaus, continuing our little sword fight, I jumped as Elijah used his speed to appear in front of me, I grinned excitedly but quickly pouted as he took the sword off of me. 

"How about instead you sit with me, and tell me all about your night?" The pout faded away, I nodded in agreement, sitting on the sofa with him and instantly began rambling on about every little detail that went on tonight. I'm sure I shared details I wouldn't typically share in normal conversation, my filter was non-existent and oh, how I know that if I could watch myself right I would wish for it badly. 

"Am I okay to take my shoes off?" I questioned glancing down to the hells that were now becoming painful and unwanted. Elijah nodded, though, after watching my struggle he lightly took my hands and proceeded to continue to charm me with his gorgeous smile that drew me in the first time I saw him. 

"May I help you?" I nodded, frustrated with my inability to undo the damn straps on my shoes, Elijah kindly took my shoes off for me and rested them to the side. The vampire stared at me for a good minute, assessing my needs and whatever else that was needed to be assessed. 

"I'll be right back, I'll get you some water." I threw my arms around him, giggling happily, thanking him and plopped back into the couch. I waited patiently for both vampires to return, I fiddled with my hands, staring at everything in the room and running my finger over my lips making odd sounds just for the sake of it. 

Elijah's POV 

I began pouring some water, and getting some things prepared for Y/n knowing that in the morning the hangover would come, I wanted her to be okay and wanted her to be safe. So I was quite glad that Niklaus chose to follow instead of causing more havoc with Y/n. 

"You know, brother, you better sweep her up before I do." His smirk and words struck a chord. He knew of my feelings, Niklaus knew that I would do anything for her and knew that he would follow through on his words. I made my way back to the living room, stopping in my tracks seeing her laying upside down on the couch, he head on the floor and her legs dangling over the backrest of the sofa. 

I bit back the smile dying to show, I sat beside her, smiling as she waved happily and awkwardly twisted and turned trying to get back into an upright position. I took her hands, smiling as she rested her head on my shoulder and that gorgeous smile just permanetly stuck on her lips. 

"Come with me, will you, please?" Y/n nodded, taking my hand and following me to my room. I handed her the glass of water, watching as she plopped onto my bed finishing the glass of water within a gulp and began curling up underneath the blankets. 

'Would you lay with me, please? I couldn't refuse, I nodded and kicked off my shoes and rested besides her. I wrapped my arms around her as she began to lay upon me, her eyes were fluttering open and shut her words escaping in a mumble. 

"I love you, Elijah. I really love you. Like a lot. Super a lot." Before I could even deny anything, I could feel her swiftly fall asleep, I didn't want to disturb her, I didn't want this moment to end. I knew that in this moment I wanted to confess my feelings for her, so I thought it would be best to do so in the morning. 

First Person's POV 

As the light shined into the room, I knew my headache would be a bitch to deal with, I pushed myself up into a sitting positon in the boat. I stretched briefly, jumping slightly to see Elijah walking into the room with a glass of water and a packet of painkillers. 

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you." I whispered, sipping the water and taling the painkillers. Elijah sat on the bed besides me, I rested my head on his shoulder and began sharing my apology. 

"I'm so sorry, was I a complete mess?" 

"No, not at all." 

"You're a liar." I whispered. 

"You were just really giggly and silly. You told me you loved me- I don't know how much of that was true..." 

"That was true, I meant that." I confirmed, seeing there was no point in denying the fact that I loved him. Elijah sat in silence for a good moment, I could feeel my heart halt for a second fearing that his reaction cold be poor and that he would react in a way that ruin our friendship. 

"I love you too." He whispered, his eyes focused on me, I glanced to him surprised and shocked about the outcome of the confession. I smiled pushing myself up and grabbed ahold of his face. Looking to see if the noble vampire was lying to me, he grabbed my hands, his look gentle and comforting. I knew just then that it wasn't a lie and that this was all true. 

[liliewrites]

Hii! Do you still take requests? If so, could you please write some fluff with soft Arlecchino x fem!Reader, who has big sleeping problems and stuff like that. And maybe Arle humming a quiet little lullaby/tune, to help calm us or stuff 👀

Or! 'Cchino with Fem!Reader, who's afraid of thunderstorms

If you have an idea on a way to combine both that would be so so cool and amazing! Sorry if there is something wrong about it. You ofc dont have to write it, if you dont want to

HELLOOOO ANONNNN!!:) it is i, kylie, here to make ur wishes come true and lemme tell u because i actually do struggle with sleep sometimes and to have arlecchino comfort you.. what a dream.. (funnily enough i have a plushiecchino and i have it next to me when i sleep she's so skrunklydoo) anyw here's ur request! hope u like itttttttt!!

-warning/s ; none! just tooth rotting fluff with soft arle:))

(men pls dni utc!)

it was a cold, stormy night.

your lover lay beside you, sound asleep with her arms loosely wrapped around you. you let out a sigh, this was one of the many nights that you were just hit with the inability to sleep and the thunderstorm was not helping either. it frustrated you greatly as lacking adequate sleep extremely made you feel more tired during the day when taking care of the children. however, your efforts were futile, completely giving up as what you've estimated to have wasted at least half an hour on trying to force yourself to sleep, you carefully slip away from your lover's hold, being wary of not waking her up. as soon as you were able to get out of bed without issue, you stretched a little before grabbing the silk robe on the nearby armchair. you put it on and messily tied your hair into a bun, slipping your feet into those fluffy slippers to further silence your footsteps.

you then headed for the door so you could leave for the study room down the hall as you decided to just read instead yet not even a few steps away from the armchair near your bed, your wife had started to shuffle around making you halt your movements. you were startled when she immediately sat straight up, eyes darting everywhere as she looked for you. "beloved??" she exclaimed, unable to see you as her eyes adjusted to the dark.

you looked at her, finding her adorable as she sat there with an alarmed expression, but the sleepiness was evident on her face. "darling, hello.." you greeted her with a sheepish smile, and you could see the look of relief that was then replaced with worry. "is there something the matter, my love? it's in the middle of the night.." she mumbled, getting off the bed to approach you. clad only in her pajamas and a loose tank top, you couldn't help but blush a little, your wife looked handsome and gorgeous as she walked towards you.

"is it because you cannot fall asleep again, love?"

she asked as strong, firm arms had found it's way around your waist. arlecchino was taller than you, no doubt, and she placed her chin on your shoulder. her bigger figure that slightly engulfed yours always provided you a sense of safety and comfort, so you were able to let out a sigh of relief as she tucked herself in the crook of your neck, pressing her lips on your skin.

"unfortunately, that is the case, my beloved. i was just going to head to the study room to read, you can go back to sleep.."

at your words, arlecchino separated from your shoulder to look at you. she's noticed that you've been having trouble sleeping more often lately, and it worries her greatly. "are you ill, beloved? perhaps any issues or problems that plague your mind?" she asks, and your hands find it's way to her face. your touch a soothing balm to her troubled soul, but her worries remained nonetheless and you knew that.

"nothing much, really. i just cannot fall back asleep, and the thunderstorm isn't helping. it's.. scaring me a little." you told her truthfully, and it assured her at least a little to know that you were unharmed and safe from any sort of illness, but the issue of you losing sleep while being frightened of the ongoing thunderstorm stays nagging her mind. she lets out a sigh and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, before whispering in your ear. "then lay with me, my love. let me put you back to sleep."

with no objections, you nodded, deciding to put your faith into arlecchino's capabilities of putting someone to sleep. after all, you guessed that before you, it was her who took tucked the children in bed. she grabbed your hand and led you back to bed, tucking you under the sheets before climbing in beside you. she leaned on the headboard, pulling your head to lay on her chest as she held you close. "i wonder, will i be experiencing what you do to the kids when they cannot sleep?" you jest, and she pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "no, do you want to? usually they end up crying when i use my preferred method." she answers with her usual deadpan tone, making you look at her with a slightly upset gaze. "arlecchino! what did you do to the kids?" you asked, with a scolding tone, causing the harbinger's heart swoon a little with your concern for the kids. her lips break into a small smile, patting your head. "kidding, my dear. i do not harm them but also do not "tuck" them. when they tell me that they cannot sleep i just tell them that i will make them fall asleep, and they usually scurry off." she confesses, and you sigh, now you know why the kids ask you to tuck them in bed. before you could speak a word, she cuts you off.

"- but that is besides the point, love. for now, we should focus on getting you back to sleep."

you nod, settling back into her chest, deciding to let it go for tonight and talk about it in the morning instead. the moment you close your eyes though, a roaring thunder crackled, making you flinch. arlecchino says nothing, but she wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you in a tight and protective embrace.

"beloved, i.. want to hear your voice. could you perhaps sing me a lullaby?"

arlecchino was a harbinger-- and one known to be a bringer of death. she was not a singer. she was a trained soldier, one among the highest ranks. she wouldn't agree with your request.

but..

"very well, but i will not sing. humming a melody is the best i can do."

"fair enough."

you couldn't help but smile, knowing your wife couldn't outright and completely say no to you, so much for being feared across teyvat, you think. arlecchino notices the smile on your face, and she may not have shown much of a reaction, but she feels her heart flutter-- and really, even if it means looking like a fool, then she would. she'd be true to her name and act like a harlequin if it meant seeing you smile.

you close your eyes to the sound of her heartbeat, accompanied with her soft humming. her hand caressing your shoulder in a comforting manner, before wrapping two arms around you to hold you much much more closer. the thunderstorm was loud and it persisted, but as of the moment, all you could focus on was your wife, and it was helping. a lot.

and by a lot, it meant that you were able to close your eyes without flinching, despite the roaring thunder. all you could hear was your wife's humming. oh, how she sounded so beautiful along with her gentle heartbeat, and that was what you focused your mind on.

not more than 5 minutes, you felt yourself slowly succumb to sleep. her humming, her heartbeats, her warm embrace, all of it were the missing factors to the perfect solution for your lack of sleep.

she noticed that you had leaned in and pressed more weight into on, so she brushed a strand of hair from your face and tucked it into your ear. beautiful, was all that she thought as she stared at you for a while before concluding that you had already fallen back to sleep.

slowly, she leaned back down so both of you could now lay on the pillows instead of the headboard, but she still held you close to her chest to ensure that you felt safe and protected even while asleep.

it was indeed, a cold, stormy night.

but your wife held you through it, comforting you and thankfully, you had finally drifted back to sleep. "goodnight, beloved. i hope you have good dreams." she whispers lovingly into your ear, then pressing a kiss to your forehead. she closes her eyes, finding it easy to fall asleep almost immediately. the love of her life was beside her after all, and your presence alone was enough to lull her back to sleep.

the next morning you ask the kids what arlecchino usually does when they can't fall asleep, and you find out that having them be tucked in bed by her is something that rarely happens. often times, she does actually tell them that she'd make them fall asleep by force, but when they r sick, scared or troubled then arlecchino takes them back to their room and once they get climb in bed and get snug, she pats them on the head, says goodnight and leaves. when they are really freightened though, she stays for awhile and waits them to fall asleep, before leaving. arle good dad just not affectionate--

[em1e]

ᶻz feat. baji + chifuyu + shinichirio !!

tokyo revengers && dating

☓ no warnings ! this is my first writing that isn't angst LOL

ᶻz・baji keisuke

⠀ ⬤ with his inability to tell you ‘no’

baji hates the way you’re looking at him. brows furrowed, lip jutted out while you tug on his arm in hopes of it helping- it does, but he’d never tell you that.

“please.” you beg, pulling him towards the photo booth. his scowl is ever present, arms crossed over his chest as if you’re asking him to do the most difficult thing in the world. ‘it’s just a photo booth’, you’d argued before, leaving out the detail of him being the one to pay for it. 

and it’s not even that that was the issue! he’d buy you the world, if you asked (or whatever he could afford from his allowance). it’s the fact that you’ve been walking around this mall for hours, and not once have you guys stopped by the food court like you promised at least two hours ago. 

he was starving, and thus, his attitude has become ever present. 

“just the photo booth, and then a couple more stores, and then we can go to the food court!” you promise in vain. his eyes narrow. 

“you said that three hours ago.” 

you pout, “i know but i know once you eat, you’ll want to leave to nap and i’m not ready to be back home yet.” 

your argument is sound, baji’s track record betraying him. still, he tries to ration. 

“if it’s only a few stores after, i don’t know why we can’t go to the food court first and then do whatever you want.” 

“because i know you well enough that that won’t be how it goes!” you’re grasping at straws here, and still he doesn’t budge. 

so, with a huff, you drop his arm and turn to the photo booth. 

“fine, i’ll meet you at the food court then.” 

“what are you talking about.” he could scoff at your sudden attitude now. 

“i’m gonna take some cute photos. i’ll just meet you there in a sec.” you wave him off without looking back at him, climbing into the photo booth by yourself and adjusting the settings as you please. 

baji honestly has to take a second to decide how this could play out. he goes to the food court alone? you’ll be pissed the rest of the day, and he doesn’t know if this argument is worth the cold-shoulder. and it is just a couple of photos, just two more stores after. what’s the real harm?

so, with a huff, he pushes back the photo curtain just before the first photo is taken. 

click.

he leans forward as far as he can into the booth, cupping your face with one hand and steadying himself against the wall with the other. 

click. 

and kisses you with a desperation that makes you wonder if you haven’t been giving him enough affection. 

click.

when he finally pulls away, you’re giving him the dorkiest grin you can muster, and in turn he mirrors your smile. 

click. 

the photos pop out with a ding, and you reach over to pull them from their place. baji looks over your shoulder, happy with how they came out. 

the first barely shows him coming into the booth and your surprised face at the sudden intrusion. the second has him cupping your cheeks and that same surprised expression along with a light blush on your cheeks. the third is of him kissing you, and the fourth is of the two of you smiling at each other. baji has to hand it to himself, the execution is honestly pretty cute. 

“thank you.” you hum, standing and pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“two more stores.” he settles, offering you his hand. 

“two more.” you agree, taking his hand and offering his card back to him. he sputters at the site, snatching it from your sticky fingers and shoving it in his pocket. 

“you are unbelievable.”

“yeah, but you love me.” you giggle. 

he pressed a kiss to your temple and squeezes your hand, “you know it.”

ᶻz・matsuno chifuyu 

⠀ ⬤ with his comfortable presence

you were on the couch, back pressed into the leather with chifuyu resting comfortably on top of you. fingers idly running through his blonde hair, while some show he was mildly interested in plays on the tv. 

it’s easy to fall asleep with the warmth radiating from him, and he only realizes this is the case when the hand in his hair stops moving. 

he knows he shouldn’t bother you. that you stayed up late studying for exams and you got up early to spend some well-deserved time with him as the weekend kicked off, and it’s not like you’re really even doing anything right now, the show on the tv serving more as background noise than anything else, but he can’t help it. 

your attention is all he craves, even if it’s in such a small amount. 

with that in mind, he sits up slightly to get a better look at you. you look pretty like this- hair a mess underneath you, face soft as you sleep. he’d really hate to ruin this, but someone has to. your brows furrow at chifuyu’s movement, but there’s nothing that shows you fully wake up. 

he tilts his head, wondering what he could possibly do to wake you up that won’t leave you pouting for the rest of the day (rightfully so, he knows, but now is not the time for that! and he’ll make it up to you, although he feels his presence is more than enough of a gift as is). 

he settles for just shaking you awake softly, admiring the way you scrunch your face and attempt to swat him away in an effort to remain asleep. 

“(y/n),” he hums, shaking you again only to be met with a groan, “come on, let’s go get something to eat! sleeping is for later.” 

“tired.” he hears you mumble out, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and, without opening your eyes, pull him to your chest. the sudden shift has him basically crashing on top of you, and he wonders where you were hiding this strength when you beg him to carry your oh-so-heavy backpack on the days he walks you home from school. 

he makes a noise of disagreement, knowing if he becomes trapped here there is absolutely no chance of moving for the next few hours, but you’re quick to wrap your legs around his back to keep him in place. 

“(y/n).” he says again, though this time it’s more like a whine, “i’m bored, let’s go do something.” 

nothing. 

“we can go to that ice cream shop you like?” 

your grip loosens slightly. he’s onto something. 

“i’ll buy you whatever you want?”

a pause. 

“anything?” you repeat, letting him free just enough for him to be able to lean back and look at you. he can practically see the sparkle in your eyes, and chifuyu wonders for a moment if he’s giving you too much free reign on his wallet. 

“anything.” he confirms, ready to be fully released from your hold so he can put on his shoes and shove you out the door. 

but, you don’t let him go. 

instead, you tilt your head slightly and let your eyes scan over his face. 

“and if i just want you?” 

he feels his face flush at the question, grabbing a pillow that was previously discarded to the ground to make room for the both of you and shoves it in your face. 

“d-don’t say stuff like that!” 

ᶻz・sano shinichiro

⠀ ⬤ with his one track mind

shinichiro’s back really fucking hurt. having to lean over the bikes for so long was really taking its toll, and he wasn’t even halfway done with what he needed to be. 

with a sigh, he stands. stretching makes him realize just how taut his muscles are, hearing his joints pop is almost satisfying, but it really just solidifies how long he’s been at work. something scatters to his right, metal against the concrete making him jump and turn at the sudden intrusion. 

you look like a deer in headlights, a tote bag in one hand, the other reaching for the wrench you’ve apparently kicked. 

“hi . . .” you breath out, offering the bag to him, “i brought you dinner . . .” 

“you didn’t have to,” but he takes the bag anyways, peeking inside. ‘dinner’ is a loose term - he can spot some sweet buns and takoyaki, along with an energy drink and bottled tea. 

you only hum in reply, looking around his shop for anything particularly interesting, “yeah but i’m sure you’ve only eaten the breakfast i brought by earlier, and you were supposed to be home an hour ago for our date-” 

shinichiro visibly stiffens at this accusation, looking at the clock on the wall to see just how late it is. 7:13 pm. you planned for him to come get you at 6:00. 

“-so i did the math myself and figured you were probably too into whatever you were working on this morning.” 

he opens his mouth to apologize, beg for your forgiveness, fall to his knees if that’s what it takes, but you’re smiling and moving some stuff to sit beside the bike he’s been working on. 

“and i figured i could just bring the date to you.” 

you pat the spot beside you, and he feels like he could crumble at your feet. 

“you’re too good to me.” he settles on instead, sitting and taking out everything from the bag to place it neatly in front of you. 

“i know,” you tease, bumping shoulders with him, “now eat up so you can finish here and we can  go watch a movie or something.” 

god does he love you. 

shinichiro leans over, and places a kiss to your temple, happy that you are so patient with him and that you went out of your way to do this for him. his lips linger for a second longer than necessary, not that you mind, before he’s scarfing down the snacks you brought. 

when he finishes, he packs up his trash and throws it away, before whistling at you and nodding his head towards the front of the garage when he has your attention. 

you tilt your head, unsure what he wants. 

“‘m gonna lock up, i can finish everything here tomorrow.” 

“but you didn’t-” 

“i can finish tomorrow,” he repeats, gesturing for you to come out of the garage so he can turn off the light and lock up. 

“you sure?” 

“mhm,” he’s never been more sure of anything in his life, “we can go to the 8:00 showing for that one movie you’ve wanted to see.” he says as he pulls the door shut, making sure the lock is set and he has everything he needs to go. 

“i would like to stop by mine to change, if that’s okay.”

you hum, “we have all the time in the world.” 

[lustnhim]

დ︎ “can’t sleep?” — elvis x fem! reader დ︎

note: lisa-marie is aged up + divorced elvis / summary: you’re lisa-marie’s best friend and you come over for a sleepover- but you can’t help but notice her dad has taken a liking to you… / warnings: MDNI, legal age gap (19 - 37), no actual sex, fingering, elvis calls reader “lil girl”, lisa-marie in the other room, pretty much my first fic in over a year, prob typos.

You tossed and turned in the makeshift bed Lisa-Marie had made for you on her floor. Perhaps your inability to fall asleep was because of the nervousness that had lingered in your stomach since you arrived. This was your first sleepover, and you couldn't help but feel embarrassed by the fact you were 19 and had never slept over at someone's house before. Staring at the ceiling you contemplated what to do. Truth be told the floor was killing your back despite the mass amounts of covers and pillows Lisa-Marie had fixed up for you. Leaning up you looked around the dimly lit room at Lisa-Marie, who was sound asleep. Carefully you stood up, walking on your tippy toes to the door, careful not to wake her. Perhaps going downstairs and getting something to drink would ease your mind.

Carefully walking through Graceland to the kitchen, you flicked on one of the lights and opened the fridge, looking around for anything to drink. Beer, juice, water, milk- none of which you wanted. “Whatcha doin’ up so late?” You heard a voice say from behind you, causing you to jump and spin around. Quickly shutting the fridge door you gripped your chest. “Good god, Mr. Presley, you scared me to death.” You exclaimed, your breathing heavy and your voice shaking. Elvis laughed softly, his chest moving up and down a bit. His pajama top was unbuttoned slightly, his chest hair peeking out. You felt your cheeks flush, you were wearing a flimsy pink nightgown, he must think you look ridiculous.”I-I’m sorry Mr. Presley, I couldn't sleep and I came down here to get something to drink but-” You explained, but Elvis cut you off with a shush. “You ain’t gotta apologize…I couldn't sleep either..” He smiled at you, causing your worry to subside a bit. “Hows about we go upstairs?” Elvis suggested. You paused for a moment, a little bit confused. “Alright..Sure, just till’ I get sleepy.” You replied, looking up at Elvis, a smirk spreading across his face. He turned around and motioned you to follow him.Tip-toeing upstairs to Elvis’ room you were careful to watch Lisa-Marie’s door, although you weren't too sure why you were worried for her to wake up. Elvis was already in the room, sitting on the lavish bed. “Come take a seat lil’ girl…” he said, patting beside him. Nervously you sat down, your heart was pounding against your chest.

As you settled onto the plush bed, Elvis leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Dontchu just looks real purty in that nightgown..” He teased. Elvis wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, and you could feel the warmth of his body through his thin pajama top. "Ya know, I’ve been lookin’ at you since you came..” he confessed, stroking your hair gently. A shiver ran down your spine, both frightened and intrigued by his admission. "What do you mean?" you asked hesitantly, trying to maintain eye contact with his piercing blue eyes. Elvis chuckled, running his fingers down your cheek. "You know what I mean honey..” he murmured, his grip tightening ever so slightly. A wave of confusion washed over you, but you remained silent, unsure of how to respond. Elvis leaned in closer, his lips grazing your ear as he continued, “How about, we do something’ that’ll make you sleepy..” His hand slid down your side, grazing the hem of your nightgown, and you instinctively flinched. "Please…" you whispered, your voice barely audible. Elvis didn't bother listening to you. Instead, he pulled you tighter, whispering, "Darlin, I won't hurt you. Just relax." And with that, he began to massage your thigh, his calloused fingers causing a mix of discomfort and desire within you. As the minutes passed, Elvis's hands wandered further up your leg, his thumb brushing the edge of your panties. You tried to squirm away, but he held you firmly in place. "You ever been touched before?," he asked, his voice husky. Shaking your head no you heard a small chuckle escape him. Your breathing became heavier, and you closed your eyes, you felt like you were dreaming. Elvis's hands continued to explore,his fingers teasing the sensitive skin between your legs, his fingers rubbing circles around the edges of your underwear. Your eyes fluttered open, staring deep into his mesmerizing gaze. "You want me to touch ya..?" he asked, a devilish grin spreading across his face. You nodded, unable to form words, feeling the heat spread throughout your body. Elvis took advantage of your vulnerability, slowly sliding your panties to the side and revealing your wetness, running two fingers across your slit. He grinned, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Elvis let out a satisfied hum, before quickly moving you over onto his lap facing him. Looking at you, his fingers teasing your entrance. You gasped, your breath hitching as his fingers pushed themselves in. You felt yourself squeeze around him, a strange feeling building in your tummy. You couldn't help but lay your head on his chest, hiding your face as his fingers moved in and out of you. Small whimpers escaped your mouth as he shushed you quietly. “Good lord, honey..you're squeezing my fingers.” Elvis said in your ear, causing goosebumps to cover your skin.

As he continued to thrust his fingers into you, you found yourself becoming overwhelmed, reaching up to grasp the fabric of his pajama top, tugging on it gently. "Do you like that, lil' girl?" he asked, his voice low. You nodded, unable to find the words to express the pleasure you felt. Elvis chuckled, his fingers speeding up as he watched you writhe beneath him. "Ya gonna cum for me lil’ girl?” he whispered, leaning in to kiss your neck. His tongue trailed down your throat, his lips soft and warm as he explored the sensitive skin there. You moaned softly, arching into him as his fingers slid deeper within you, his thumb now rubbing circles on your clit. “M’ gonna..” You blabbered grabbing onto Elvis’ shoulders as you came on his fingers. Elvis pulled his digitsfrom your quivering core, a pleased smirk on his face. He kissed your forehead tenderly, wiping his fingers haphazardly on your nightgown. "There, there," he murmured, stroking your back. "That should help you fall asleep." Your body trembled in his arms, your heart racing wildly. You could hardly believe what had just happened. Yet, there was an undeniable warmth spreading through you - a mixture of shame and excitement. "Thank you, Mr. Presley," you managed to say, your voice shaking.

He simply smiled, "Just Elvis, sweetheart.”

part two <3

tags: @hooked-on-elvis @atleastpleasetelephone @lola-1013 @18lkpeters @indiatuck @suspiciousmindsxo @tupelomiss @myradiaz @i-r-i-n-a-a @elvispresley1956 @sisssygirl @iuv0ana @lovingb4mbi @eptodaytommorowforever (i think that’s everyone who liked!)

[darsynia]

Surprise blurb bomb!

You’re at a conference and a little worried because your boss has enlisted you to present. You’ve got about a day to go, so you’ve been in pacing in your hotel room rehearsing. However, the frustration mounts every time you hear yourself make a little mistake. Your next door neighbor has heard all of this, so they come to knock on your door, checking that everything is alright. When you explain what’s going on, they nod sympathetically, having to present as well. They kindly offer to help you practice, which leads to the two of you falling asleep collapsed on top of each other on your bed. What happens after that? Who’s your babe?

Thank you so much for this!! I chose Steve, and this is teeth-rotting fluff with my signature little characterization moments. I hope you enjoy!!

gif from @askthesuperhusbands

Notes: Pre-Ultron, no warnings, 2,447 words, first draft so I get it out without fussing

Excerpt:

“I get it. Public speaking is hard enough when it’s important, but it’s even harder when there are no friendlies in the audience.” Steve smiles wryly. “That won’t happen here, I promise. I’ll be in the room, because just like with the war bonds, I’m a symbol of what you’re fighting for.”

Always On

“The idea of ‘public relations’ has fallen into disrepute, just like ‘human resources’--and I think their tarnished reputations are related,” you say, hands clutching the edges of the wooden desk chair ‘podium’ precariously balanced on the hotel bed. “I know everyone in this room is well-acquainted with the concept of finding common ground with a myriad of people-- Argh!”

You frown, feeling the judgment of the rumpled sheet hanging on the wall. It’s covering the mirror that had pulled your focus away for the first twenty minutes of this practice exercise, but you still know it’s there. At this point, the sheet is a fig leaf covering your dignity and your inability to stay focused.

It’s past midnight, and the long day is getting to you. The introductory paragraph of your presentation is in the bag, but paragraph two isn’t working at all. It’s your thesis statement, the crux of the whole project, and you know you’re fighting an uphill battle. Without help from the well-respected UNITY Project, the governments of the world might try something extreme to keep the Avengers in line. Each year the group of philanthropists, aid workers, humanitarian lawyers, and other notorious do-gooders meet and choose ten groups to endow aid or oversight on. You’re hoping for the oversight, but it’s a long shot. The group has a sterling reputation, and their clout might be enough to get Secretary Ross to back down.

Your hands ache from where you’ve been clutching at your makeshift podium, but you square your shoulders and try again. “What we’re seeking is a partnership, a way to celebrate this team’s efforts and smooth over their rough edges.”

The sheet is mocking you, so you close your eyes and picture the faceless group you’re going to be appealing to.

“Citizens around the world trust your judgment and their heroism. Together we can ease fears and--” You stop, struggling to remember the word you’d thought up in the rental car on the way to the hotel. No amount of squinting at the note cards does any good. Your notes are rain-splattered and ruined in exactly the wrong spot, of course.

Throwing your head back, you let out yet another miserable groan.

Seconds later, there’s a gentle tap on the door. You recognize the pattern.

“Go away Steve, I’m busy dying of frustration!”

There is silence for over thirty seconds, but you’re not fooled. After counting to fifty-five, you stride over and throw the door open right before Captain America’s knuckles strike the wood again.

“Yes?” Your withering glare doesn’t faze him. Steve just raises his eyebrows and holds his hands up in a ‘surrender’ gesture.

“Three ‘arghs’ in fifteen minutes gets a visit, you should know that,” he tells you with mock sternness.

Hot embarrassment has you stepping back in dismay. “You could hear that?”

“A few words of the speech, too,” he nods, prompting another ‘argh’ from you.

Your choices are to spontaneously develop superpowers so you can drop through the floor, or do as you always do in this friendship--or let Steve Rogers be the hero. Your dilemma must show on your face, because for once, he doesn’t wait for you to ask for help.

“Something tells me the board of United International Continuing Acronym won’t be convinced by those noises,” Steve says, using Stark’s nickname to cover for the way he pushes past you into the room. For a few seconds, the fronts of your bodies brush against each other, and the heat from those few seconds burns through you.

By the time you recover, Steve’s already across the room, clearing his throat. “I sympathize, believe me. Doesn’t matter how much public speaking I’ve gone through, it still ties my stomach into knots.” He turns and gives you a look of teasing determination. “I have a few suggestions, but I’d have to swear you to secrecy.”

Your crush surges up to color your voice with maybe a little too much affection as you say, “Captain America has secrets?”

The look he shoots you has the same sort of heat from seconds ago. “Here,” he says, pulling a folded page from his pocket. “This is a new one, but back when they first put me in tights, I practiced my script in a room set up with some of these.”

Steve hands you a drawing of a crowd of people, some smiling, some frowning, some turning to their neighbors instead of looking forward. It’s got all of the charm of his usual drawings, despite being more simple than usual. When you look up at his face, his sheepish expression tells you why. He must have drawn it right before knocking on your door.

“Steve,” you breathe, touched by the gesture but also the way he’s captured the spectrum of audience reaction. It reminds you of everything he’d gone through to be the man he is now, the man you’ve fallen for as inevitably as a crowd cheers for a brilliant performance. You couldn’t help it.

“Not now, all right?” he whispers, a kind of pleading in his eyes. “Speech first.”

You blink at him. Did he just acknowledge that something’s different between you? What is it about this corporate hotel hundreds of miles from the home that’s turned everything deliciously sideways? He’s already on the next Act, and you shove those feelings aside to focus like he’s asked you to.

“My place was a quarter this size, but maybe we can…” Steve trails off, propping his drawing on the draped wall sheet and flipping off all but the lights above the bed. Somehow it works, limiting distractions and changing the covered mirror into an easel for his thoughtful drawing.

There’s only one problem.

“Are you planning to lurk behind me?”

“Well, I’d sit in the chair, but--”

“Steve!” You can’t even glare at him, because all you can see is the glint of the fluorescent light reflecting off of his shined shoes. He pushes off the wall and steps forward just enough so you can see the kind look on his face.

“I get it. Public speaking is hard enough when it’s important, but it’s even harder when there are no friendlies in the audience.” Steve smiles wryly. “That won’t happen here, I promise. I’ll be in the room, because just like with the war bonds, I’m a symbol of what you’re fighting for.”

There’s no way he could know how romantic that sounds, so you swallow against the sudden tightness in your throat and nod at him.

You start again, and suddenly it works. The chair is a podium. The crowd is real. Steve is somewhere out of sight, rooting for you. You get through the whole thing, and it feels great. You can hear Steve clapping for you through the relieved buzzing in your ears.

Then it all falls apart. When you let go, the chair falls over and smacks you in the face, and the little breeze from your flail of pain knocks the drawing down. Steve rushes over to help, but he bumps into you, and you both fall sideways onto the bed.

The giggles last for a glorious few minutes, and then he says, “Okay, since everything went sideways, can I make it worse?”

You’re lying on a bed with Steve Rogers and his smile is like an early sunrise, so you say yes.

“The concept is good, but you sound like you’re using big words to impress. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s not really us. Tony’s irreverent, Clint’s the salt of the Earth, and Bruce is the kind of scientist that puts everyone at ease, at least until he turns green.” Steve turns onto his back, but he doesn’t get up, which feels consequential, despite his criticism. “Nat’s public persona is standoffish but not pretentious, and I’m--”

“You’re folksy,” you interrupt, still stinging from the unfortunate truth of the word ‘pretentious.’ “The epitome of ‘plainspoken.’”

Steve shoots a look over at you, and you realize those two words are exactly what he meant.

“The guy next door,” you add. Inside, you’re crumbling a little bit. Does he think you’re pretentious? Are you pretentious?

Steve rolls to face you again, reaching out to brush his thumb gently across the place the chair had struck you. It’s covered by your hair, but he somehow knows exactly where it is.

“You still have a full day left of the conference before it’s your turn. I could have colored that drawing and given it to you tomorrow, but that wouldn’t have helped tonight.” He pulls his hand back, but sets it on the bed between you. “That’s what makes us a team.”

You’re confused, but comforted nonetheless.

“You paint with words. It’s not that different from art, and every artist chooses how much effort to put in each piece,” he explains patiently. “It’s the same for this. You’re representing everyone, and that means you have to save some of that energy for the physical part of it. Not everyone realizes that.”

“Oh, God,” you blurt out, sitting up. “You are a symbol, just like you said. You’re always on, even at the Compound! How much energy does that take?”

He looks up at you, and the truth in his eyes is painfully intimate. “It’s not as bad now. When I came out of the ice, it kind of felt like I was still in tights. Always exposed for the greater good.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. It’s your job to book him for events. You’re the one shoving him onto the stage.

“No, no, don’t do that,” Steve says, sitting up and framing your face with his hands. “It was worse before, when it was Tony or some random person at SHIELD sending me out. I trust you. This conference was your idea--”

You scrunch up your face with guilt at that, and Steve gets this look of determination on his face. The next thing you know, he’s leaning forward and kissing you. It’s electric, stage lights blaring, orchestra in crescendo, and the velvet curtain rolling closed on the triumphant final scene to the roaring of the audience applause.

Then he’s pulling back, standing, and running his hand over his face. “That was out of line, I’m sorry.”

“It was a masterpiece,” you say, looking up at him with your hands clutching the blanket and your heart in your eyes.

The way his nervous tension completely leaves his body is even more reassuring than the softly-spoken “Oh. Good,” he lets out. His encore wins all the awards your heart has to give: “I didn’t practice that at all.”

Joy colors your voice. “You’re a natural.”

Steve’s ears turn red, and he says, “Well, I should let you get back to it. It’s past one--”

“You could stay,” you rush to say, standing up and stepping past him to pick up the drawing. Behind you, he makes a strangling sort of coughing noise, and you realize what you’ve said. “To practice!”

That just makes Steve gasp your name, clearly amused and scandalized in equal measure, and you groan in frustration. Feeling giddy just destroys your cognitive abilities.

“The speech! What is it about this hotel??”

“A new medium. Canvas instead of watercolor paper. A speech instead of short stories,” he says, setting the fallen chair back upright.

“You know about those?” you ask, surprised. You’ve made a point of working on them only during your downtime.

He has the grace to look apologetic. “Tony made a comment once, that I’d turn up in one of your stories if I offended any world leaders, when I was sent to the UN Grand Assembly.”

“Shit, I forgot I threatened him with that one time when he was being an ass.” Your grumble ended in a colossal yawn. “What time does breakfast start tomorrow?” The conference is a multi-day affair, and missing the early meal had not set you up to stay awake through the panels today. “I won’t have any time to practice this tomorrow night and you’re right, I really need to clean up the wording,” you add, feeling your elation at the kiss drain away with worry.

“Then let’s keep at it,” Steve says, taking the drawing and setting it back up on the sheet. He turns and gives you as wicked a look as you’ve ever seen on his face. “The speech, I mean.”

You wake up to the alarm with a sore neck, your dress pants digging into your hip, and a bed partner. He’s the farthest from a pain in the neck as a man can get, but falling asleep fully dressed with your head on his shoulder wasn’t the wisest decision you’ve ever made. You pull in a deep breath, trying to clear out the mental cobwebs scattered in happy glitter, and Steve tenses up under your head.

“I’m sorry,” you say immediately.

“Don’t be. I’m the one who should have left you to sleep.”

You sit up so he can slip out of bed, knowing that he needs to put distance between you for his own peace of mind.

“Be honest: have you ever voluntarily abandoned a woman who needs your help?” you tease. “In all seriousness, you were a huge help last night, and I’m sure that was outside your comfort zone. That was probably the most I’ve ever seen you talk outside of lecturing Stark!”

“I didn’t even notice,” he says, pulling the sheet off of the mirror expertly folding it over in the corner of the room.

He’s faced away from you, so you indulge in a back-arching stretch while muttering under your breath, “You have no idea how hot that is.”

“Right back at you,” Steve retorts, looking back at you with the sheet in one clenched fist. “I need to get going. Want me to pick up breakfast for you?”

You’re off script and floundering, trying to reconcile the sexy rasp in his voice with this attempt at professionalism. It’s exactly the kind of relationship you’ve always dreamed of, and you find your heart slipping further into romantic oblivion.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Thank you,” He says, holding out a hand to help you up. Once you’re standing, Steve holds your gaze and lifts his eyebrows in a very clear question. Heart pounding, you nod, and he takes your lips in a brief but fervent kiss. He moves back, pausing at the door. “I just thought of something, but it’s--”

“Tell me anyway,” you interrupt. “You don’t have to alter your wording for me.” It’s maybe too symbolic and cheesy, but you’re sleep deprived.

“I’m looking forward to another collaboration,” he says, flashing you a brilliant smile.

Note: I may have to write a sequel with what happens AFTER, given that I impulsively wrote this and missed that the prompt was 'what happens after that' I feel so dumb haha

[simping-lya]

A Napping Skeleton

UT!Sans x Reader Fluff

Words: 1084

Koala Sans is cute and makes me happy so I wrote something about it :] Not Proofread so sorry for any mistakess

-----

You woke up from the nap, sluggish from sleep with your mind still dreaming but one thing was clear to you—you had to use the bathroom.

Bleary-eyed, you attempted to sit up but was stuck underneath a weight on your chest. Your inability to move cleared your sleepiness away, now alerted and confused by what was keeping you on the mattress. Moving your gaze downward, you found a familiar white skull that belonged to a snoring skeleton. Sans was laying on your right side, skull pressing into your chest with his arms wrapped around your torso and legs entangled with yours.

Oh right. Now you remember what happened before you fell asleep. You and Sans were in his living room, watching the show you both liked to watch together, when you had started feeling sleepy. Sans must’ve noticed you falling asleep and moved you to his room. It wouldn’t be embarrassing to find yourself napping in his room since you are usually in here but this was the first time you two napped together. Usually, it was Sans who napped on you. You would have felt your embarrassment for a moment longer if the need to use the bathroom so badly wasn’t your major issue (damn Papyrus and his worry for your water intake).

You felt bad for waking him up but you had to do what you gotta do as a human being. Still, Sans was a deep sleeper and trying to wake him was often difficult. Still polite to try it first, though. Shaking his shoulder, you called his name. In reply, Sans let out a sleepy groan and just held you tighter, surprising you with a nuzzle into your chest. He didn’t wake up, more snores coming out of him.

Okay, that was cute but you didn’t have the time to appreciate it because you really gotta go. With Sans trying to use you as a giant teddy bear, you decided to move onto your second plan, pulling him off. It shouldn’t be that difficult. Skeletons were light in nature and Sans had less physical strength than you so the many times you’ve done this, you were able to get him off of you. But for some reason, in his slumbering state, he had strength that even you couldn’t defy. His grip on you was extremely strong and tough for you to dislodge. It didn’t help that each time you would try to get out, he would mumble in his (cute) sleepy state and grip you harder.

Did he somehow get stronger or have he reached a level of comfortness that in his sleep, he was unwilling to let go? He was usually clinging onto you during his many naps with you being his pillow but never had he clinged onto you so stubbornly like now.

You were trapped, stuck with a sleeping skeleton on you and a terrible need to go.

You couldn’t even call for help. Your phone was probably where you last left it—charging in the living room—so you were left being a giant pillow.

Then you heard it. The sound of your savior. It was so faint but you knew there was hope. It was the sound of the front door opening and that meant—!

“Papyrus!” You shouted, calling for your last hope. “Papyrus, help me!”

The sounds of footsteps climbing the staircase showed your hope wasn’t in vain and you stared with relief as your friend opened the door to Sans’s room, his head peering in with urgency.

“WHAT IS THE ISSUE, MY DEAR FRIEND, FOR YOU TO BE CALLING FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS’S ASSISTANCE? ARE YOU INJURED?”

His sockets soon found your gaze on the mattress as you waved your free arm in the air. You replied, “No, but I’m stuck with Sans on top of me. Could you help me out here?”

Papyrus stared at you for a moment.

And took a picture.

“Papyrus?!?!”

The tall skeleton laughed, his expression showing no sympathy for your embarrassment as he pocketed his phone. “SORRY SORRY, BUT I HAD TO TAKE ONE TO SHOW SANS LATER! HE’LL BE SO EMBARRASSED!”

He walked over to you and assessed the situation as you huffed at him underneath Sans’s sleeping form. In one quick hand motion, he managed to separate you two and put a pillow in your place, which Sans instantly clung onto. He mumbled something into the pillow before nuzzling it, no sign of noticing the switch-a-roo.

You patted Papyrus’s shoulder, mumbling a quick thanks, as you ran to the bathroom. Once your urgent matter was done, you stepped back into the hallway, letting out a relieved sigh. There, you found Papyrus exiting Sans’s room, shutting the door behind him.

“You are my savior,” You told him as you walked over. “If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve died.”

Naturally, Papyrus took your compliments to heart. He struck his signature pose with his scarf magically swinging behind him in an invisible breeze (you stopped asking for questions a long time ago). “IT’S ONLY NATURAL FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS TO SAVE THE DAY! THAT IS WHAT THE GREAT PAPYRUS DOES AFTER ALL—SAVING HIS HUMAN FRIENDS IN CASES WHERE THEIR HUMAN NEEDS MUST BE FULFILLED!”

You chuckled as you walked with him down the stairs. “Yes, and your human friend right here appreciates it a lot.”

Papyrus grinned at your words and patted your shoulder. It “AND I APPRECIATE YOU FOR PUTTING SANS IN SUCH A COMFORTABLE STATE JUST NOW! USUALLY I WOULD SCOLD YOU FOR BEING INFLUENCED BY HIS TERRIBLE HABITS BUT I WILL LET YOU GO THIS TIME. I RARELY SEE HIM SLEEP LIKE THIS AND AS HIS CARING BROTHER, I THANK YOU!”

“Ah, well, you’re welcome, Papyrus.” You felt a bit embarrassed but also confused? Why were you being congratulated by his usual sleeping habits? You expressed this to Papyrus with a question, “But, Sans always sleeps like this though?”

The taller skeleton only stared at you, making you wonder if he misunderstood your question. Not wanting to cause a misunderstanding, you explained yourself.

“I mean, whenever he naps on me, he’s usually like this? Like all clinging and refusing to wake up. Isn’t he like… this…” Your voice got quieter and quieter as Papyrus’s eye sockets began to shine.

Then he grabbed your hands and with glittering eye sockets. “THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS A BRILLIANT IDEA!”

You, wide-eyed and confused on what was happening, only let out a, “Huh? What?”

“YOU SHOULD MARRY MY BROTHER!”

“What?!?!”

[cryptid-ghoulette]

You can always reach me

Some days rain really struggles, but luckily phantom is there to help

(shout out to @sister-nyx for giving me the push to finish this!)

WC - 683

Includes - rain dealing with chronic pain, very mildly injured phantom, but very much fluff with a happy ending.

Rain slumped face-first onto the couch, ignoring the others who were sitting at the dining table. He was too tired to hear anything they might have been saying. His head pounded, and the sound of blood rushing in his ears was deafening and ceaseless. He didn’t even care that he could barely breathe with his face smooshed into the musty couch, and even if he did care, he was pretty sure none of his limbs would respond.

He wondered if this was the time he wouldn’t be able to get back up, if this was the moment his body finally just gave up, leaving him stuck inside his own head, permanently part of the couch until someone came and peeled him off it, like gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe.

Eventually, he felt a hand tousle his hair, and a familiar voice said far too cheerily, “Hey, let me join this pity party,” followed by the weight of someone directly on his back, curling into a ball, purring loudly into the crook of his neck.

Of course, it was Phantom. The youngest of the ghouls and by far the sweetest. “Hey bug, comfy?” Rain joked, his voice a little muffled by the couch.

Phantom let out a soft giggle, gently lifting one of Rain's arms. “Yep, very. You okay, Rain? You feel even more floppy than usual,” he said, letting the arm fall back onto the couch with a dull thud.

“Just a bad pain day, nothing I can’t handle. Don’t worry about me, Ant,” he said, still face-down in the couch, trying his hardest to hide just how tired and sore he really was. He knew Phantom would see right through him, though. The kid had a sixth sense for lies, especially when Rain was the one telling them.

“Well… if it makes you feel any better,” Phantom started to say, moving off Rain and back onto the couch, Rain rolling onto his side. “I got this earlier today falling down the stairs coming back from Mountain’s room. Tripped over my own tail,” he said, pulling up his pant leg to reveal a large bruise trailing along the side of his knee, already starting to turn a deep, angry purple.

Rain winced. “Ouch, Bug. You do know you control your tail, yeah?” Phantom rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, very funny. Do you want my help or not?” Rain chuckled softly, nodding his head and rolling back onto his stomach with a groan, letting his body settle back into the dent in the couch.

The small quint took his place on Rain's back again, curling up tightly, purring louder, letting the vibrations rumble through Rain’s body, a warmth slowly spreading, and he could feel his body relaxing, sinking further into the couch (if he couldn’t move before, now it was probably worse, but for the best reasons).

There’s something about Phantom’s purrs that is magical. Rain knows it’s probably the quintessence, but the soft hum settles into his very bones, warming him from the inside out, loosening all the knots and tangles of muscle and sinew.

This little exchange has become an unspoken agreement between the two of them, both knowing more than most what it's like to have a body that is more often than not aching in some way or another, even if for two entirely different reasons. Rain's pain is more chronic, something he can't control, while Phantom’s is mostly out of clumsiness and his seeming inability to fully control his own tail. Either way, the two of them have bonded in mutual agony, with Rain quick to share any heat packs, band-aids, and some of Mountain’s special teas, and Phantom always happy to help with some purrs and a little quintessence.

Eventually, the rest of the pack spotted the two on the couch; by then, both were sound asleep. Phantom continued to purr on Rain's back, while Rain quietly purred into the couch. It wasn’t long before Mountain fetched a blanket, draping it gently over Phantom and Rain without disturbing their peaceful slumber, both completely at ease.

[hopelessdazai]

need more chuuya TT

I'm so sleepy it's 5 and I have college in less then 2 hours uhgggg LETS MAKE A HC POST ABT IT!! I love asks with little limitation esp w my writing block. AND THANK YOU FOR 200 FOLLOWERS??? I DONT DESERVE YALL ILYSM

Chuuya x reader sleepy headcanons

contents ; sfw, fem reader, lots of cuddling, tooth rotting fluff, probably typos I'm so tired.

chuuya's very strict about bedtimes. with the early 5am he has to wake up for the mafia, and the inability to sleep without you beside him, expect to be dragged off when he starts to get even a little tired.

bedtime schedules, always. he'll bring you to brush your teeth and he'll help you out if you're that tired. everything in my nighttime routine hcs :(((

hes so cuddly. soon as he notices you're starting to get sleepy he's dropping everything to come and wrap you in his embrace. it's so comforting and he adores it when you fall asleep with your head on his chest.

chuuya always hums or sings to you. that man has such a relaxing voice, and he'll use it to his advantage when he thinks you need some shut-eye. a hushed hum of whatever song he was listening to last while his hands stroke through your hair is so awdhqorjqlrj

hes a lap guy at heart. by that I mean he will pick you up place you into his lap and keep you there until you drift off like you need to. he knows how sleepy you are.

even after you're asleep, his gentle caresses won't stop. whether its a hand gently circling your back, playing with your hair, rubbing along your thigh, anything. it'll keep him idle while he focuses on something else or enjoys the feeling of holding you.

sometimes he puts movies on with the goal in mind to make you fall asleep on him. he'll leave it running in the background while he plays with your hair and rubs your lower back, waiting happily for when your weight sinks into him more.

Scenario ;

you rest your head on chuuyas chest. your body overlapping his in a way you slot so perfectly together that it's a suprise you're not lego pieces. his hand drifts slowly from your back up to stroke the back of your head. it's so peaceful.

he looks down at you, a small trace of a smile playing on his lips as he barely sees your eyelashes flutter. he knows you're falling asleep. though, chuuyas attention shifts back to the tv show he put on, a small hum leaving his throat as the midsection song plays.

the vibrations in his chest relax you further, coaxing you into a sleep you'd been declining for so long. you exhale slowly, your hand resting beside your head as you snuggle further into chuuya. letting yourself slip off to sleep.

he looks down once more. the gentle rise and fall of your chest is enough to give him a sense of butterflies, in his stomach heart and mind. there's one instinctive reaction that comes to him like this,

one day. one day he'll put a ring on you.

hope you enjoyed! I will get around to all your requests I'm so sorry fshfjshamshr IM SO TIRED I HATE COLLEGE

- Zai

[thefangirlfever]

DBF! Miguel O'hara x reader (part 6)

Tags: F/M, age gap (reader is 28 and Miguel is 48), taboo relationship, mention of medication, depression and racial prejudice, reader is a woman of color, angst, mention of death and grief, slow burn

Disclaimer: English is not my first language.

See the end for notes.

Words count: 6503

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Miguel and you had come to an agreement. You were in charge of the dinner from Monday to Thursday and he took care of it the rest of the week. But even like that, he couldn’t help but intervene into your cooking; no matter how many times you’ve told him to “trust the process”.

“But how can you be sure that it’s gonna taste good if you don’t even follow the recipe?”

You rolled your eyes, amused by his comment while adding a last spoon of spice to the boiling soup on the stove.

“Who needs the recipe when you got vibes and confidence?”

He was now the one rolling his eyes. He hated to admit it but your recipes always managed to taste edible, good even, despite your inability to follow a recupe. You should have already been responsible of a food intoxication but you didn’t. Cooking by your side was always an experience, truly. But it also managed to help him relax after a long day at work. You even looked more relaxed while doing so.

You turned toward him, holding a spoon of soup and asked him to try the soup with a small grin. Miguel could only oblige when you looked at him this way and so he leaned forward to sip a bit of the soup. And just like he had guessed it, it was delicious. He may not be the most objective taster out there but it was still good. The creamy and rich texture made him think that you must have some hidden talent because he has seen you cooking without a recipe and there was no other logical explanation for it to taste that way.

“So? Not that bad, huh?"

It was nice to see you were feeling better now. After only a few days of his attention, you were already back on your feet. His gaze traveled down your figure, noticing your now rosy cheeks and the way you looked generally better. Maybe the countryside had a better effect on you than what you could have expected? But he couldn’t ignore the tired lines on your face, meaning that you were still sleeping poorly.

“Miguel…” Your soft, questioning voice took him out of his thoughts and he blinked twice, collecting his thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking…”

“About what?”

“Do you...still have trouble sleeping?” The sudden change in the conversation surprised you but you didn’t immediately deflate the conversation or tried to run away, which was a progress in Miguel’s eyes.

“Yes, I do.”

“Have you considered taking something to help you fall asleep?” Miguel wasn’t surprised when you shook your head no. He still asked: “Not even melatonin?”

“I used to take some when I was in high school but...it wasn’t strong enough.”

His eyes opened wider and he stuttered: “In high school?”

“I was an anxious kid.”, you simply replied. He didn’t have any trouble believing that.

“I could get you something more efficient if you want…” You turned off the stove and shook your head.

“I...I don’t have a good history with strong medications.”, you simply replie. Most doctors you’ve met so far were quite insistent, always trying to convince you to take those type of things. But speaking from your personal experience, you didn’t like how they made you feel. And in general you’d rather avoid any type of medication.

Miguel didn’t insist, thankfully, and he simply nodded.

“Well...if you need anything, you can always ask me.”

“I think I’ll stick with herbal tea for now but thanks.”, you replied while smiling. And he gave you back your soft smile. You seemed in a great mood and he thought it was not the right time to ask anything about your history with medication. Plus, he was not on duty anymore. He could simply enjoy this moment with you, without thinking about anything related to his job.

The two of you were setting up the table and he had to remind himself to leave a good distance between you. Nevertheless he still looked at you from the corner of his eyes, watching every movement you made, from the very tip of your fingers to the way you balanced your weight on your feet. It’s been a month since your arrival and Miguel has felt something changing inside him ever since. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but he has been waiting with so much enthusiasm for every chance to see you. Every moment you shared had become the highlights of his week. And you were more present in his thoughts than he wants to admit it. Your father had told him how much of a nice girl you were; saying things about how the two of you would get along so well. But Miguel had this feeling that your father may have underestimated just how good the two of you got along… Because he had the feeling that was he was feeling when you were together had nothing to do with friendship or what he was supposed to feel.

You have also noticed how closer the two of you seemed to be. It’s not a bad feeling but you would have never guessed the two of you would feel this comfortable in the presence of each other. Maybe Sarah was right. There was nothing wrong in asking for help… And Miguel has been a great help so far on so many levels. He didn’t just help with the house; you have the feeling that he helped you personally.

You’re taken out of your thoughts when you hear Miguel saying: “That color looks good on you.”

You looked down to where his eyes were. He was looking right at your sweater, an old one that you have found this morning in the back of your closet. You couldn’t remember exactly when was the last time you wore it or even when you bought it, probably during one of your phases in high school. It was bit loose on your shoulders and it hung loosely over your clavicles but the soft fabric felt like a blanket and the color really appealed to you when dressing up this morning. It was a soft lilac, almost the same shade as an aster.

“Oh thanks. It’s just an old thing, I guess…”

Miguel’s eyes have been nothing but locked on the way the fabric exposed your clavicles or the slope of your neck; especially with your hair tied up tonight. That color reminded him of a flower but he was not sure which one exactly. You reminded him of some flower. As embarrassing and corny as it may sound. He thought he was way past this at his age but it seemed like he was wrong. The mohair wool had caught his eyes ever since he came in the kitchen and he couldn’t stop wondering just how soft it acutally felt, how easily his fingers would slide through it…

He promised himself he would not look at you like that. He can’t do this. You trust him. Your father trusts him. He knew better than this and he didn't want to be that type of man who pried on younger, inexperienced and fragile women. He swallowed back the rest of his compliment, which turned into a lump in his throat and he looked away; just when your father called for you.

The three of you were sitting around the diner table, chatting lightly, joking from time to time. It’s been quite a long time since you shared a real meal with anyone. Since you began living alone, you were usually relying on take-outs and would eat in your bed in front of a show, enjoying the calm of your apartment after a long day at work. Your apartment… You had left a double of the keys to Sarah like most people would do so their plants would be watered and all these kinds of things. But there were no plants to water at your place, no animal to take care of… Sometimes this place didn’t feel like yours. But you had to move quickly after and that was the fest thing you had found. It was not objectively bad but...it was not your home.

The conversation had slowly shifted toward the topic of your school years when Miguel told your father about the restoration work that would begin soon. You still remembered vividly the walls of red bricks with the wine climbing on them, the windows decorated with the drawings of the students, the ugly yellows wallpaper… Maybe it was not a bad thing that this place was going to be renovated. It will be safer at least.

“It will be for the best.”, your father declared before taking a sip of his coffee. “Those buildings were already there when I was a student after all.”

“So they must be really old.”, Miguel joked and your father laughed heartily.

“Are you implying that I’m some type of dinosaurs or something?”, he asked with a grin and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling too. It was nice to see him laughing around. Miguel’s presence only did good things to him.

“I would never.” You looked at Miguel’s expression and he had the exact same grin on his face. But when he was the one smiling, your eyes would linger a bit longer on his face, on the curve of his smile… He caught you looking at him and you were suddenly very invested in the appearance of your cup of tea. Your father didn’t notice anything and kept joking:

“Well, you’re not getting younger either, my friend.” He added with a knowing smile in your direction. “Poor Y/N, you’re stuck here with those two old men…”

“You’re not that old.” You protested weakly and you were not sure who you were trying to convince of that and if you were only speaking about your father. Your father sighed and his smile looked a bit more contrite.

“Well, I’m not getting younger for sure…” He looked at the cast on his leg with a look you've been catching more frequently on his face recently. He was in pain. Not physical pain. But he had to come in terms with his mortality, with the fact that he was growing older...exactly the same way than when your mother died. “I just think you would maybe enjoy more the company of people of your age.”

You were not sure of where this is coming, so you slowly took a sip from your cup, waiting for him to finish talking. Miguel was also waiting.

“Why wouldn’t you try to link up with some of your old friends? You know, most of them didn’t move away.”

Miguel suddenly looked more intrigued and interested by the conversation. It was true that so far, you haven’t mentioned any of your past acquaintances. You couldn’t be this antisocial truly. With a shrug of your shoulders, you replied as casually as you could:

“Well, they must all be busy.”

“I’m sure they would be glad to see you too.” His soft tone didn’t fool you. You know how stubborn he could be when he had an idea in mind. So you asked: “What did you do?” His satisfied smile proved you that your assumptions were right.

“I called one of your best friends and asked her to come visit over. And she gladly accepted.”

“Who did you call?” Miguel watched your exchange like one would watch a tennis game, his head swinging from left to right.

“Actually I called a few people.” Your father said with a bright smile and that was when it hits you. He genuinely thought he did something good. As much as you appreciated his effort, you couldn’t help but groan, slightly annoyed. What were you supposed to say to your old friends? Would you even be able to talk with them or link up the way you used to? Would they even recognize you?

***

The next day the living room was filled with laughter and the faint sound of chit-chat. Sitting on the edge of the couch, you quietly observed your friends from high school. The atmosphere in the room reminded you of the time you would all have slumber parties in high school. Except that it was only 4 in the afternoon and that you had traded your snacks and corny movies for homemade cookies and old album photos.

The three women facing you looked nothing like the pictures you were watching and at the same time they couldn’t be more themselves than they were now. On your right Jane was no longer wearing the thick glasses she used to have when she was younger, having them replaced by lenses but the movements of her fingers reminded you of how she would always adjust the frame of her spectacles back then. She had already apologized three times for being late but who would blame a business woman like her to have more important meeting in her day? Assya’s cooking skills were still unmatched and you thanked the Lord for her cookies, delicately wrapped into a pink paper. Her calloused hands from all her work were still looking rough but your eyes could’t miss the wedding band on her finger. A bright diamond on top of a silver ring. And there was Margareth, Mag as she’d rather have you calling her, whose athletic silhouette was now draped under a delicate green tailor suit. Even under the large jacket, she couldn’t hide the impressive bump of her stomach.

And there was you who was giving “I peaked in high school” energy compared to them. But none of them seemed to address this or even wanted to make you feel uncomfortable. They seemed to respect your silence and they ware graceful enough to not comment on your tired face or rub too hard their happiness on the said tired face. None of them mentioned your mother as they keep flipping the pages of the album. Assya even slided a new box of cookies toward you when you were finished with the first one. So...it was a bit better than what you were expected.

Jane pointed at one of the pictures and started telling a story about this day. Her memory was quite impressive to you. You barely remembered that day. The four of you were looking at the camera with a bright smile. You were all sitting in your bedroom, during one of these infamous slumber parties. The more you looked at the picture, the more you realized that your friends were not the one who changed. You did.

The four of you were still down the memory train when the front door opened. It can’t be your father. As soon as your friends came in, he disappeared into the patio, saying that he wanted to give you as much space as possible. It could only be Miguel. It was a nice surprise for him to be here this early. There was something comforting into knowing that he’ll be back after almost every day...

You turned toward the door, a bit too enthusiastically, and watched him making his way toward the living room. He was the one in charge of the dinner tonight and he was carrying a crate full of fresh vegetables. His forearms flexed slightly when he lifted the box and for some reason, you couldn’t take your eyes away from this sight.

“Doctor O’hara, I wasn’t expecting to see you there. Is this where you’ve been hiding all these weeks?” Assya asked with an amused smile while crossing her arms over her chest. She had told you she’s been working as a nurse at the clinic but it was only now that you realized what it meant. She knew Miguel. For some reason the small grin she gave him annoed you, wedding ring or not.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you there either. Do you guy know each other?” Miguel asked with a polite smile and all the women nodded in unison. His eyes stopped on the silhouette of Mag and he asked in a caring voice:

“How are you feeling today?”

She slowly patted her stomach and replied: “He’s been really quiet today. No nausea whatsoever.”

“Good. If you need anything, my office is always open.”

It was your first time seeing him interacting with his patients and colleagues, and again, you could’t believe that people like him actually existed. People who were so selfless, people who cared and who could genuinely talk to other beings. And for a second, you could picture him at the clinic, working, giving orders, taking care of his patients… Just how many parts of his life did you actually ignore?

Miguel was slightly amused by the sight of all four of you reuniting in the living room. Once again, it seemed that you have underestimated yourself and your social skills. Everything seemed fine. His eyes trailed over you, taking in your polished appearance. You tried to make yourself look a bit better for today and he actually realized that it was the first time he saw you wearing some make-up. It was just a bit of blush and lipstick but his eyes are drawn to the shape of your lips tinted in a deep carmine. The same color rushed to his cheeks and he looked away before saying in a firm voice:

“I’ll let you to your memories now, ladies.”

You watched him going to the kitchen, a bit disappointed. You were not sure of what just happened because it lasted only a millisecond but if you had listened to your body, you would have followed him into the next room. Instead you just sat there, quietly, while your friends started giggling. Assya was the first one to break the silence:

“I know I’m married but…”

“Please, don’t finish this sentence. I already know what you’re going to say.”, replied Jane with a growing smirk.

“Come on, you can’t blame me. He is fine.”

The two of them whispered in order to not be heard from him and you felt like you were back to your high school years when you would all tease each other about your crush. So, it looked like you haven’t been the only one noticing that he was attractive…

Mag gave you a knowing look from the other side of the couch and your eyes were drawn to the shape of her stomach. While Jane and Assya kept bickering around, you decided to shift the conversation away:

“So...when is it due?”

She must have sensed your uneasiness because she chuckled softly. You have always been awkward around children and maternity, so it was not a surprise. Again, her hand gently patted her stomach.

“In two months I think.”

“It’s a boy?”

She quietly nodded and as soon as this conversation begins, you found yourself unable to ask anymore questions. It’s not that you didn’t care but the topic of motherhood made you feel uncomfortable, even more so these last years… Hopefully she changed the conversation when sensing your discomfort.

“So...it seems that he comes here often?”

“Who?”

“Doctor O’hara.”

“Ah...yes, Miguel...well, he is here to help my father. They’re good friends and I think it’s good that they are hanging together.” It felt like you were trying to justify yourself or something. You cleared your throat and grabbed your coffee while Mag kept looking at you with a knowing smile.

“He is nice, isn’t he?”, she asked after a few seconds and you simply nodded slowly.

The rest of the afternoon went by pretty fast as the four of you got lost again in your memories. Assya was the first to leave because she had to pick up her kids at daycare and Jane and Mag followed quickly. Once they were gone, you let the silence of the house wrap around your and youfinally rested your face against the wooden panel of the door for a few seconds with your eyes closed. As much as it was nice seeing them again, you feltl drained of all your energy and you would probably need a few days to recharge your social battery.

The sounds of footsteps made you turn around and there was Miguel, looking at you from the end of the hallway, a soft smile on his lips.

“Are you alright?”

You leaned your back against the door for a few seconds as a migraine started hitting your head. He could sense that something was off and that you needed to rest despite your attempt at reassuring him. He slowly moved closer to you and only stopped when he was a few feet away. He didn’t exactly know what made him act this way but there was again this lingering need to take care of you in ways that would make him feel ashamed if he could admit it.

“I can leave you alone if you want…”

“No it’s okay.”

Your eyes trailed up and down his figure in the dim light of the corridor and your eyes locked on the apron he is wearing. The white fabric had turned yellow at some point and the blue flowers on it looked withered. On one of the pockets there was a small heart. You had embroidered yourself when you were younger, as a gift to your mother.

Miguel seemed to realize his mistake and he started to untie the apron. He didn’t mean to offense you by taking this memory of your mother out of the cabinets. He just took the first thing he had found to cover himself. He was about to apologize when your hands stopped his movements, holding his wrists firmly.

“Don’t take it off.”

Your voice was only a murmur but he clearly heard you. With a soft sigh, he intertwined his fingers with yours while your two bodies got a bit closer. The mere light from the window of the door looked like a halo around your hair and he has to catch his breath. The room suddenly fels like it had been completely deprived of air while he got lost in your eyes. What if he got closer? What if he held you in his arms, only for a few seconds? What if…

The questions rushed in his mind, pressing him to decide what to do. But he had the feeling that none of this is what you need at the moment, nor what he should do. The grip of his fingers on yours finally loosened and he stepped back.

“I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.” You watched him slowly walk away before leaning back against the door. Your body slowly slid down the panel and you end up sitting down the floor, a mix of boiling, raw emotions that you couldn't identify lingering inside your chest.

When you were finally back inside the living room, you noticed that Miguel had left a glass of water and some aspirin for you. You smiled at the sweet attention and immediately swallowed one pill. He also had cleaned up a bit the room and yet, all the album photos were still out. Your father was sitting down the couch, absorbed in the old pictures, so much that he hadn’t notice your presence at first. You didn’t need to look over his shoulders to know what, or rather who he was looking at. In fact you’d rather disappear from the room rather than bring the attention to this topic but he caught the sound of your footsteps as soon as you started moving

“Hey…” he gently called you out. When he turned around, you caught a glimpse of the picture he was looking and you were unfortunately right. It was a picture of you and your mom. It had been taken the first year you all went camping in family. “How was the afternoon with your friends?”

“Good. Thanks.”

He was smiling in a way that would break even a heart of stone. With a tired sigh, you dragged your body to the side of the couch and sat by his side.

Your mother was holding you in her arms on the picture. You zere both wearing matching green windbreakers, an idea from your father because he was wearing the same one on the other side of the picture. There was something so comforting about staying in her arms like that. She was not a frail woman with he square-shaped shoulders, her burly arms tanned after hours spent in the garden and she was always carrying around her a scent like the one of a fireplace. You were sure that it was how a mother’s hug was supposed to feel for a long time in your life, strong, maybe a bit rough in the beginning like a mama bear holding her cubs. It was the only kind of hugs that could chase away the monsters under your bed or in your heads once you grew up.

Your father’s fingers glided over the page and you felt a bit uncomfortable. You squirmed over your sit, not knowing what to do. Should you offer a few words of comfort? Hug him? It would be quite appropriate but you were not sure your hugs would feel as comforting as hers.

He sensed your discomfort and flips the page. A large smile slowly crept up his face and he started laughing. It was a picture of you at a dance recital, around age 8, dressed as a large daisy. You cringed at the picture. Your chubby cheeks were squished by the fabric of your corolla and you were all red and sweaty, because of course the taffetas of the dress was too hot for the month of May.

“Dad, can we please ignore that?”

“No way, you’re looking adorable. And your mother spent so many time on your costume.”

The sound of your banter had attracted Miguel and he smiled when he seed that you seemed to feel a bit better. When your dad called him in, you felt a cold sweat running down your back.

“Dad, no.”

But the catastrophe happened too fast for you to react. Miguel sat on the other side of the couch and as soon as he looked at the picture, a goofy smile curled up his lips.

“No wonder you enjoy gardening. It’s like your natural habitat after all.”, he teased you gently. Your father laughed loudly at what you would have considered a pretty lame joke if it wasn’t for the adorable smirk that he was wearing. On the next picture, you were dressed as one of the rats for the ballet Nutcracker and you thought that you might actually die of embarrassment right now.

Miguel was having a blast seeing all these pictures that your dad always commented on with a funny story. Not only did he get to see an other side of you but he also caught the blush that crept up your cheeks and that slightly annoyed pout you were doing. Ever since he met you, he had never seen you embarrassed or really flustered. This might be the most emotions you’ve shown in one time and he quickly diverted his attention from the picture to your profile. After seeing the pictures he could clearly see how well of a mix you are between your parents. You got the lanky silhouette from your father, his long and thin face with the sharp eyes and pronounced chin. And from your mother, those curly locks, your nose with the high arch and those cheekbones… The said cheekbones were turning more and more flushed, their shade according well with the one of your tinted lips.

"Stop looking", he taunted himself.

As the pages kept moving and your dad talking, you slowly relaxed and your arm was now resting on top of the head of the couch. Just like Miguel’s. You were still trying to act unbothered the first time his fingers brushed against yours, thinking it might be an accident. But when it happened again, you were not so sure anymore that it was a mistake. Your two hands were resting behind the couch and your fingers were brushing from time to time, especially when Miguel was laughing at one of your dad’s jokes. At some point his forefinger brushed against your wrist, right against the edge of your sleeve.

You quickly pulled your hand back to yourself. Not out of discomfort but because you felt confused. This was not an invitation from your part...but you wouldn’t have minded for this contact to last a bit longer either…

Miguel didnn’t dare thinking that he was disappointed. Touching an inch of your skin even for a few seconds was still worth every hour of hesitation and turmoil that would come after it. How could your skin be so soft? So tempting? All when he had seen of it so far was your hands and a bit of your neck?

Still unaware of what was happening behind his back, literally, your father turned to an other page. It was a picture of you on your last recital. You were around fifteen years old, dressed in a dainty pink tutu, glitters sprinkled all over your hair. You had spent hours cleaning them off with your mother afterwards...

“This was your last recital?”, Miguel asked but it was your father who replied.

“She had to stop after that. You know how it is? High school, college entrance exams…”

Miguel didn’t reply but he did furrow his brows and nodded with a serious look on his face. He would have liked to ask more questions about this part of your life that looked so surreal. How come this little girl with that bright smile and her face covered in glitters turned into the woman you were today? He could’t also help but wonder if you still remembered a few dance moves…

But your father had flipped the pages once again and now there was an other picture of you with a boy around your age. His skin was the same shade as yours and brown curls flowed down to his shoulders. The two of you were standing close to each other, at a respectable distance with a shy look on your face. Miguel knew too well this type of picture and when he looked back at you, he was expecting to see some reaction on your face. Maybe you would be a bit embarrassed, flustered or at least nostalgic? But to his surprise you had a blank expression on your face. He didn’t know if it’s good or not. Before he could ask anything else, your father said in an obnoxious voice:

“You were such a cute couple together, David and you. You remember that day, Y/N?”

“Mhh...not really.” You seemed pretty unaffected by the picture, which was not something that Miguel was expecting from someone who just saw such a memory.

“Oh come on...you really don’t remember? It was for your birthday. You remember that nice necklace he gave you?”

You nodded without saying anything. You knew it was useless to argue with your father over this topic. He had always loved David, almost like a son. The fact that his parents were from the same diaspora as your father only made them get closer and your father had always assumed that you would end up with David. He was a nice guy, sure. But there was a reason why you never kept seeing each other after high school and you remembered it while looking at the picture. There was no chemistry between you, even a blind could see that, whatever your dad liked to think.

Miguel’s eyes were still locked on your profile and the more you were looking at the picture, the more anxious he was getting. Why were still silent? How was he supposed to understand the way you were looking at this picture? Was this good? Bad? Did you miss that David guy? Why was he suddenly just realizing that you must have had former partners? And why did he make him want to take your hand back in his, to pull you closer to him?

Your father didn’t seem to realize that there was a slight tension because he kept digging his own grave:

“It’s been a long time since you saw each other. Did you even call him? You know, I think he would be really happy to talk to you…” and with what was supposed to be a playful nudge, he added: “And I heard that he is single.” Miguel quickly caught the pink hue on your cheeks and it made his stomach twist as if he was sick. Were you embarrassed? Or was there more to this reaction? God, he hadn’t realized until now how hard it was to read you and he wished he could ask you directly. But...he was not entitled to ask that of you. Who was he to think that?

“Dad, I’m not going to call him.”, you replied while organizing the albums on the coffee table. “We had a good time and now it’s over. What happened in the past belonged to the past.”

Miguel almost sighed out of relief but your father was quick to reply: “Maybe you should start thinking about the future...I mean, you’re almost thirty and I haven’t seen you with anyone in a few years now.”

That was a low blow.

Even if it had been said in a rather understanding voice, you couldn’t help but feel your blood boil. This was the last conversation you wanted to have with your father. Miguel felt like his presence was unwanted and he tried to make his way out of the living room as quietly as possible. He would be in the kitchen if you needed help but there was no need for him to make you feel like he was prying on this delicate moment.

***

It was not your first time having this argument with your father. In fact, you remembered the last time it happened. It was a few years ago when you decided to move with your last boyfriend. Most parents would have welcomed such a good news but your father wasn’t too happy about it. First of all, he never really liked this man. History would prove him right, but it was not for the good reasons that he disliked him.

“He is not what I imagined. He is..."

Not like us.

That cryptic sentence took all its sense when you introduced your boyfriend to your father. He didn’t fit in. Your father wanted someone who could speak his language, who could share his memories of the country they left…

“And you’re living with him without even getting married?”

“You know what the people will say!”

“I raised you better than this…”

Hearing him screaming was somehow less hurtful that his resigned voice. He could sound so disappointed sometimes that you almost wondered why you even kept trying.

But at least at the time, you had your mother by your side. She always knew how to calm him down. She was like this bridge between the two of you and somehow she was the only one who would manage to help you find a compromise.

At least when she was alive.

***

You couldn’t run to your mother after an argument anymore and you’d rather stay alone than talk with anyone else. At least, that’s what you used to think. Now that you were back in this house, you might as well go and see her.

The next day, you grabbed your windbreaker and headed out of the house before your father had waken up. You had spent the last evening, alone in your room. It’s been so long since the two of you fought; you had forgotten how bad it could hurt sometimes. The thought that Miguel could have heard your argument made you feel so embarrassed. What was he thinking now?

The air around you was crisp and you could feel the scent of the pines and the muddy ground this early in the morning. It was a perfect day for what you were about to do… The gates of the cemetery had barely opened when you walked inside. It was a few days before Halloween and a few people would come and clean the graves soon, change the flowers… Seeing all the decorated graves made you regret not bringing anything. And given your father’s state, no one probably brought anything to your mother’s grave.

She was right where you remembered her. The plaque with her name stood at the foot of a small hill. A vase with withered flowers, a decoration with a dove...exactly how you remembered it to be. You carefully sat in front of it and watched the black marble. A few remaining raindrops from the night slid down the material, on top of her name engraved on it.

“Beloved mother and wife.”

Finally, some peace and some silence.

You didn’t know how long exactly you stayed there, sometimes contemplating the grey sky, sometimes the delicate intricacy of the letters of her name. Next time you would bring some flowers you promised as much as her than to yourself. At some point while looking at the build-up of stormy clouds in the sky, you noticed a large silhouette, all too familiar, moving down the hill.

What was he doing here?

You tried to get up despite your numb legs and the silhouette seemed to walk faster in your direction, his long coat flowing behind him. It was only when the first raindrops fell down that he managed to join you.

Miguel didn’t even dare asking you anything, if you were feeling alright, who you came to visit… the answer to each question was obvious. Instead, he simply offered you shelter under his umbrella and a tissue for your wet eyes.

“Do you want to stay a bit longer here?”, he finally asked after a few seconds. You shook your head and the two of you made your way out of the graveyard. His arm was holding yours, guiding you gently toward the exit, his sturdy shoulder brushing against yours from time to time.

When you reached his car, Miguel opened the door for you and then sat in front of the stirring wheel. But he didn’t feel like taking you back home now. And neither did you.

The rain was hitting the roof of the car in a loud, discorded melody. You could barely see the world outside through that much rain. A slight fog had covered the windows with the warmth of the heater, and yet your shoulders don’t stop shivering.

Miguel’s comforting hand gently squeezed your shoulder as he tried to make you look this way, a vain attempt to anchor you in the moment.

“Hey…”

He was slowly getting a bit more worried that you’re not responding but he doesn’t dare insisting. His hand stopped at a few inches from your face before he slowly leaned back into his seat. The silence inside the car was only troubled by your heavy breaths as you tried to compose yourself. After a few minutes, he couldn’t hold it anymore and asked: “Do you want to talk about it?”

You were not sure if he was talking about the argument with your father or your visit to the cemetery but you still shook your head. He felt a bit relieved when he heard your voice, even if it was barely a whisper:

“I’m fine, Miguel.”

An other heavy silence filled up the space inside the car and quite surprisingly you were the one breaking it this time, again.

“Why were you here?”

His eyes seemed suddenly very focused on the stirring wheel and he absented-mindly started rubbing his pointer finger with his thumb while looking for his words.

“I needed to visit someone.”

===============================================

Notes: This was a pretty messy chapter, so I want to thank anyone who took the time to read this.

I'm currently working on the seventh chapter and just so you know, I'm very impatient to write it.

Taglist: @safixiovi @laysmt @reverieblondie

My Masterlist!

< part 5 / part 7 >

[flame-resistant]

Research suggests that the inability to fall asleep without background noise could be related to a fear of being alone, which is often connected to abandonment issues. This fear can stem from past traumas or deeply ingrained insecurities.

Another night in at your shift, the hospital was usually quiet (one of the benefits of night shifts). Sitting your things down, you could already see the red light on room 1003 blinking erratically as usual. Knowing the nurse before you hadn’t checked on the patient, a deep sigh left you. Though the thought crossed your mind on who would, he was a villain, one that destroyed half of Japan. However, at this moment he was a patient who desperately needed attention.

Knocking on the door softly, you could see the white-haired man stop pressing the nurse button on his bed. The room was quiet, and TV hours were limited to help other patients sleep, though this was a struggle with the Todoroki. It was as if he needed something to drown out the silence. Most of the nurses ignored his constant need, muttering things behind his back, that he deserved to suffer in silence. 

“Everything okay, Mr. Todoro-”

“Touya.”

Well, it was better than when he first awoke in the ward. Sedatives were used on the regular to calm him down, glares sent the nurses way when they called him anything but Dabi. A nod was sent his way as you came over to check his vitals, well he seemed fine physically (the best you could in his state). Deciding it was something bothering him in his mental state, you looked down at the man as he picked at a bandage. 

“Can’t sleep?”

Blue eyes looked at the wall, a pout on his reconstructed lips as the male continued his silent tantrum. Sometimes it made you laugh to think he terrorized your country for a year. Still not getting an answer, you concluded that was the issue, knowing perfectly well he had a voice to correct you. 

“I can get some hot tea if you would like?”

Again silence was the response, though he was getting more fidgety by the second. Your brows furrowed at how he expected you to read his mind. As if you knew him well enough to know what he wanted, oh how wrong he was. Trying one more time, you pressed on. “The ward is quiet tonight, what if I stay just for a bit to help you sleep? We can talk?”

That seemed to perk his interest, at least enough to get him to face you. His pride did not let him admit he wanted attention, that the silence was a reminder of how alone he felt. Taking a seat on the window bed, you looked out the window to see the parking lot. Some people coming and going from the ER downstairs. 

“Are you going to talk or not?”

Breaking from your trance, you expected him to start the conversation, but once more he was reliant on your actions. As if he was doing you some favor by talking. Funny.

“Right...well, how do you feel?”

An irritated look was sent your way, silently telling you that was a stupid question. Okay, time for a new plan. Taking out your phone, you let the man see a picture on the screen. “This is my cat, he has some anxiety so he likes attention.”

Raising his brow, Touya eyed the picture, taking in what you presented. “What’s his name?”

You felt a bit proud of that, taking it as a nurse-patient bonding moment. Showing him another picture of your feline friend, you continued on. Going over the cat’s name and personality, more scrolling of pictures, his eyes never leaving your screen. 

“What does he do when you have to leave? Sounds like a shitty life.”

While he wasn’t wrong, always needing attention did seem pretty tiring. You kept your mouth shut on saying the cat reminded you of him. With your phone now away, you went over the usual plan for your cat. 

“Consistency helps, but I usually leave some sound on in the house so he doesn’t feel alone.”

“Must be nice, having such a pampered life.”

He almost sounded jealous of the cat, but that sounded silly. “Have you ever had a pet?”

Ignoring your question, Touya changed the subject. Probably not wanting to talk about himself or his past. “Can we just talk about stupid stuff?”

“Oh, sure.” The awkwardness didn’t leave, but you did as he asked. Going over your plans for the night and what you packed for lunch. He stopped talking, only listening to you go on. His eyes were closing by the second. Thinking he was finally asleep you stopped, though the man grunted for you to continue. Unsure what else to say, you looked back out the window and described the area. Hoping it would be enough to relax the man completely. “Some nurses are leaving, looks like they are talking. Maybe about their shifts? Looks like a woman is coming into the ER, she forgot to turn her car lights off...”

A good thirty minutes passed before you could hear his snores. A sigh of relief left you as you stood, happy he was getting the sleep he needed as well as the attention he was seeking. 

On your way out, you made a mental note to talk to the head nurse about adding an extension of TV time for certain clients. At least for now, he was asleep, the rest of the night ran smoothly, so when he woke up again you didn’t mind one more nightly talk. Maybe you’ll get to know the man behind the villain, the one called Touya.

[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

Just tell them (USWNT x Reader)

This isn't that great, but I have covid again and this is keeping me entertained. Enjoy :)

Words: 1.6K

Swing, swing, swing

It was hypnotising. The swinging and bouncing of the ponytails as the girls ran around the field. There had been many things in the past that I had hyper-fixated on. This just happened to be the weirdest one yet. I don't know what is was. It was attractive, but more likely it was the repetitive motion of it. All I knew was it was embarrassing. Not just this particular hyper-fixation, I found all of them embarrassing. I found my inability to focus, my inability to sit still and my hyperactivity embarrassing. No one on the team knew about my ADHD and I planned on keeping it that way. 

They didn't need the burden of knowing. The burden of knowing how difficult it was for me to stop myself from bouncing off the walls, to concentrate on what's going on and to actually remember stuff. They could keep thinking I was highly organised by putting every little thing in my calendar or someone who was just quiet. I put on a show as the quiet one who preferred listening to music and going to the gym constantly. When in reality is was all I could do to control the hyper-activeness and not annoy them.

"She's too old for you," Kelley stated as she sat down next to me.

I jumped, forcing my gaze away from Alex's ponytail and to her, "What?"

"You've been staring at Alex for the past 20 minutes. She's 33, you're 24. That's too old for you and she has a husband and kid."

"I wasn't staring at her, I just zoned out."

"Sure, you've been doing that a lot recently. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just tired." It was true. After moving in with my girlfriend, I wasn't used to sleeping alone, therefore I hadn't been sleeping well this camp. All my ADHD symptoms got worse when I was tired, especially the inability to focus and zoning out. Kelley looked less then convinced, but let it go when we were all called back to the field.

Later that night I was cuddled up in bed completely exhausted. Tierna was out with some of the girls and wouldn't be back until later so I took the opportunity to facetime my girlfriend, Ally. A smile appeared instantly when I saw her sitting on our bed, in her pajamas, hair in a messy bun with paper and books surrounding her. 

Hi love, you look busy.

Hey baby. Just some work I need to finish. Are you okay? You look tired.

No one ever warns you how hard it is to sleep alone after you move in with someone. You should be at your desk, you're going to hurt your back.

Tell me about it. That shit should come with a warning label or something. I was at my desk, but it got uncomfortable. 

I couldn't help, but laugh at her attempt to cheer me up, I love you, did you manage to get time off to come to the game this weekend?

She frowned, shifting slightly and I knew the answer without her saying anything. It was disappointing, but not unexpected. I'm sorry. I really tried baby.

It's okay my love, I understand. It was a long shot to begin with. You'll be watching right?

Always. You should get some sleep Y/n. I'll stay on the phone talking my nonsense until you fall asleep, just like at home. I love you.

I love you too

---

So I may have forgotten to take my meds this morning. By time I realised, it was to late and we were already on our way to the stadium. Game days were the best and worst days to forget. When I was on the field, everything washed away, I was able to focus completely on the game. The problem was before the game when nerves were at an all time high. It was hard to control the nerves when I took my meds, but almost impossible without them. I had my music all the way up, leg bouncing like crazy, trying to suppress some of the desire to scream.

Once we got off the bus things only got worse. My mind was a mess, my energy was bubbling over. I jumped up and down, shaking my arms in attempt to release some of the energy.

Christen pat my shoulder, "You'll do great, don't worry."

"Thanks, I'm going to go for a little walk, calm my nerves a little bit."

"Don't be late back."

After walking around a bit, I pulled out my phone to call the one person I knew could calm me down. Except she didn't answer. I slapped my hands against the wall a few times, stopping when I heard my phone ding.

Ally: Sorry baby, can't answer right now. I love you, you'll kick ass.

I sighed, firing off a quick reply before heading to the field, thinking maybe a warm up will calm my brain. It worked until the few minutes before the game started. I was checking my phone for a good luck text from Ally while pacing and jumping around. 

Ally: You didn't take your meds did you? Just breathe, focus on the game, you've got this

Y/n: How did you know?

Ally: Look behind you

I turned around to find Ally standing in the stands just behind the bench. Just seeing her, calmed my brain slightly. She blew me a kiss, making me smile widely. I couldn't believe she was actually here. A couple of the girls blocked my view. Turning to try and find who I was looking at. I had only been part of the team for a couple of months so they didn't know about Ally yet. There was a lot of things I hadn't told them. I had been too busy trying to be someone else so I wasn't a burden.

"Who's got you smiling like a fool?"

"Thank you love."

"Someone. You may get to meet them later, but for now, let's kick some ass."

---

After the win, we were having celebrations in the locker room. I quietly slipped out to find Ally. It didn't take long, she was standing by the door to the stadium. My arms quickly wrapped around her waist, relaxing into her. My mind going quiet for the first time all camp. Ally kissed my head, holding me tighter, "I'm so proud of you Y/n/n. You did amazing."

"Do I get to meet your team?"

"You want to?"

"Of course I do, if you want me to that is."

I pulled away, opening the door, "Come on. Just a warning, they can be a little crazy at times especially after a win."

Ally shrugged, following after me, "I live with you, I think I can handle it."

"Oh no baby, they are at least 10x worse then me."

All the attention turned to the door as we walked in, "This is my girlfriend Ally, and guess what Kelley? She's older than me."

Kelley faked shock, hand resting over her heart, "You're dating an older woman? Scandalous."

Ally pouted, "I'm only 2 years older."

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, placing a kiss on her temple, "Still older babe."

"So how long have you two been together?"

"Let's see if you can remember this one babe," Ally smirked putting emphasis on babe.

I smirked back, "1,460.97 Days or 208.71 Weeks or 4 years. Give or take a week."

"How did you remember that?"

"I remembered from our anniversary last week. It took a long time to memorise them for that, but then it stuck."

She nuzzled her nose against the spot just below my ear before whispering, "I love you."

"Only every now and then."

"I love you too."

As celebrations continued, Ally pulled me away slightly, speaking quietly, "How often have you forgotten to take your meds?"

Alyssa looked at me, concern written all over her face, "What meds?"

"Just vitamins."

The girls moved to stand closer, Ashlyn being the one to speak up, "Bullshit, she wouldn't be looking so serious if it was vitamins."

I knew they could be protective, but this wasn't the reaction I was expecting, "It's nothing."

Ally rest her hand on my back, giving me an apologetic look, but spoke up anyway, "Babe, you should just tell them."

"I don't want to burden them with my problems."

My face was cupped and forced to look at Ally. She looked sad, I hated it, "Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n, you are not a burden. Having ADHD does not make you a burden. Do you understand that? Or do I have to tell you again and again until you do? You. Are. Not. A. Burden."

Before I could respond, Alex spoke up, "You have ADHD?"

Ally looked apologetic again. I wasn't mad at her for it coming out. She was just looking out for me and it was sort of a relief not to have to hide it anymore, "Uh yeah."

"That doesn't make you a burden, why would it?" Ali asked, expression sincere.

"It did to my parents. I was too much, too hyperactive, not focused enough."

"All it means is now you have us making sure you take your meds. Maybe you can stop being so quiet and withdrawn? We've noticed you want to join in or say more, but you always hesitate. Something tells me that's not who you are."

"Trust me, it's not. She's goofy, talkative, funny, Don't let that go to your head, you're only funny sometimes."

"Rude."

"You love me."

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't."

Ally's lips ghosted over mine, slight smirk appearing, "Oh, playing hard to get now?"

My lips just barely brushed hers, a shaky breath fanning over mine, "Isn't that why you fell in love with me?"

"One of many yes, bu-"

Kelley groaned, "You guys are cute and all, but this is just getting gross."

"Sorry."

Ally lent up to whisper in my ear again, "I got a hotel room for us."

I smiled, excitement rising at having her to myself, "T, I won't be back to the room tonight."

[rainofthetwilight]

I'm not sick, I swear.

Summary: Kai is coming down with a cole and didn't tell anyone. Unluckily for him, Cole had noticed.

Wordcount: 1.5k

guess who also has a cold and is writing this??? ME!! third fic ever, and a suprisingly fluffy one compared to my other two! enjoy these two idiots :)) (also, this can be taken as both platonic and romantic! idm!)

posted this on my ao3 here!

For what felt like the one-hundreth time that night, Kai sneezed into the tissue loudly.

 He groaned as he wiped the disgusting snot from his nose, and then folded the tissue. Face red, he threw it on the ground carelessly, not even aiming to the small bin besides the TV. So many other tissues were stacked ontop of the bin, most of them having fallen out from the lack of balance. Kai knew he should clean it up, but he was too tired to deal with that.  

He just hopes that he would find a good excuse for it the next morning.  

He sniffed, slouching on the living room couch and crossing his arms. The TV wasn't on, so he was practically staring at nothing, but he couldn't handle staying in his warm room and needed somewhere to cool off. And with it being midnight, where the air was cooler, he assumed it should help.  

He swore this shitty cold wasn't this bad last morning.  

He hated how he felt his nose itch constantly, he hated those random tears that would form out of nowhere, and he hated how sensitive his skin felt. It was one of the reasons why he was wearing one of his hoodies, paired with black leggings that didn't make him feel so uncomfortable. It itched a little, but he didn't care. Besides, he has kept his cold a secret, and had just brushed it off whenever someone noticed something weird about him. It helped somewhat, since he'd only itch whenever he has a sickness of some sort.  

Sniffing again, Kai coughed, the mucus that was currently going down his throat annoying him so much. The taste was horrible, and from that he felt like he couldn't even eat. Pairing it with the usual inability to breathe through his nose, it felt impossible. He didn't even know if his stomach was actually full.  

Kai attempted to make some tea for himself, knowing it would help with his sore throat. And honestly, it did a little, but it still didn't help enough.  

Only Zane's warm Honey Lemon tea could help. It always did wonders.

 But of course, he was hiding this forsaken cold.  

Feeling that familiar irritating itch attacking his nose again, his mind had practically screamed 'Oh no.' as he knew what was coming. Sitting up, he sneezed louder than the last time, and he instantly grabbed a tissue from the holder next to him. He blowed into the tissue, and quickly folded it in disgust as he threw it on the ground the same way he did with the previous.  

He hated this. He hated this so much.

 Groaning again, Kai wiped the drool from his mouth using his already wet sleeve, and moved from the middle of the couch to the edge, leaning on the couch's arm as he snuggled. His arms hugged his knees, keeping them close to his chest. He should probably be going back to his room, because there should be no way someone hasn't woken up from his sneezing. But he had brushed it off, knowing Cole's bear snoring probably deafened the loud sneezing.

 Huffing, he threw his head back, staring at the ceiling. He could've brought his phone with him as a distraction, but it had sadly powered off and was still charging. He attempted to breathe in and out through his nose slowly, but he just couldn't. He'd always exhale through his mouth.  

When will this nightmare end?  

Sighing once more, he sniffed and shut his heavy eyes, trying to keep his breathing steady. He released his hands from his knees and crossed his arms, his head heavily moving to rest against the couch's backrest. He stayed like that for a while, about to fall asleep-  

"Kai?"  

Jumping, Kai yelped at hearing the sudden voice, his eyes as wide as saucers as he almost fell from the couch. He held onto the top of the backrest with a strong grip, his wide eyes quickly darting from the ground to the figure at the door.

It was Cole.  

He had his hand on the already open door, wearing his black tank top and pants. He had looked at frightened brunette with confusion, who had seemed as tired as he was.

"Jeez, Cole, you gave me a heart attack!" Kai hissed, removing his hand from the backrest dramatically putting it on his chest.

 "What are you doing here?" The Earth master spoke again, this time with a less tired voice. Kai didn't answer. He crossed his arms, not making eye contact with Cole. Cole sighed in frustration.  

"That doesn't answer my question." He said, walking over to where Kai had been sitting at and sat down next to him. Cole noticed how he attempted to scootch away a little. He raised his eyebrow, his eyes scanning Kai. His nose was red, and his eyes looked teary and heavy. Cole knew what this was, and instantly brought his hand to Kai's forehead. For the love of the First master, he was burning. Alarmed, Kai jumped slightly at the sudden touch.

"What the-"  

"You're sick, aren't you?" Cole removed his hand from Kai's forehead, resting his arms on his knees. Kai's eyes had widened, starting to fidget with his hands.  

"I'm not."

"Kai, you're burning. You're literally a hothead."

"I swear I'm not. I'm just hotter than usual."  

"That doesn't make sense. You are sick."

  "I'm not."

  "You are."  

Defeated, Kai grunted, looking down in embarresment. Sighing, he wished he could've just stayed in his room instead.  

"Fine, I am." He mumbled, still refusing to make eye contact. Cole smirked, crossing his arms. He knew that there was something off about Kai the entire time, and it turned out he was right.  

"Did you atleast get any rest?"  

Kai stayed silent.  

Well, shit.  

"..No." He muttered quickly, still looking down and hugging himself.

Cole sighed for what felt like the millionth time, "We told you one too many times before, firecracker. You need to rest-'  

"I'm fine, Cole. I don't need rest. I swear." Kai argued, shaking his head in disagreement. Cole sighed, standing up, cracking his knuckles and still having his eyes on the brunette.  

"Then I guess I have to do this the hard way."

Kai looked at him with confusion, and before he could even speak, he was scooped up by the larger man and placed on his shoulder, Cole's arm wrapping around his back and walking out of the room. Kai shrieked in alarm, trying to squirm out of Cole's grip.  

"Hey! Put me down!" The Fire master yelled, placing his hands on Cole's shoulder as he grumbled, squirming constantly. Cole kept him balanced on his shoulder, chuckling at Kai's attempt to free himself from his grip. Blushing furiously, Kai's face was redder than any of his Gis. He covered his face in his hands, not caring about the small bits of snot that got on it, too embarresed.

He was so, so very glad no one was seeing this.

He had his hands covering his red face, groaning the entire walk to the bedroom. As they arrived to Kai's room, Cole opened the door and walked inside the messy room. He avoided one of the thrown shirts next to his bed, and then carefully placed the brunette down on the matress. He sat down infront of him, and saw how Kai was still blushing, his eyebrows furrowed. He had immediately looked away from the extreme embarresment. Cole snorted, trying to hold in his laugh.  

"You caused this." Cole said with a smirk, still not earning a reaction from Kai. "You always keep this as a secret."  

"But that doesn't mean you should carry me! I can still walk, yknow!" Kai waved his hands in a frustrated motion. Cole grinned, giggling.  

"Your fault. You didn't wanna rest."  

Kai looked down at the mattress, hugging his knees. He really should've just stayed in his room. He felt Cole scoot closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.  

"How about you lay down, hm?" He suggested, making Kai glance at him for a second. After a moment, he sighed in defeat. Laying down on his side, he bent his knees slightly. He wasn't suprised when Cole layed down on his back next to him, turning his head to face him. Cole pulled Kai closer, having a gentle arm around him as Kai rested his head on his chest.  

"This okay?" Cole asked with a smile, rubbing the smaller man's back. He felt Kai nod, seeming a bit more relaxed. Cole's smile grew wider.  

"Aren't you gonna get sick from this?" Kai said smugly, making Cole chuckle.  

"This isn't the first time, hothead. I'll be fine. Just relax."  

Kai had chuckled aswell and shrugged. His arm wrapped around Cole's waist, sniffing as his eyelids felt heavy. Cole noticed his unsteady breathing as he breathed through his mouth constantly.  

"Don't breathe through your mouth, idiot."  

"I know." Kai replied sarcastically, feeling Cole rub his back again. Soon enough, his eyes slowly fluttered shut. Cole moved his hand from Kai's back to his hair, gently stroking the smooth brown strands.  

He didn't mind staying in his room for the night, not at all, especially if it meant Kai would finally rest.  

And of course, he'd make sure to ask Zane to make his Honey Lemon tea the first thing in the morning. Because damn, this idiot needed it.