#it's why he obviously has to sleep in my bed under the blanket all night

[barksbog]

orb of cold nose

[mishellii]

♢ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ♢

ɴᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ, ꜱᴀꜱᴜᴋᴇ, ᴋɪʙᴀ, ꜱʜɪᴋᴀᴍᴀʀᴜ, ɴᴇᴊɪ & ᴋᴀᴋᴀꜱʜɪ

a/n: sooo my first headcanons yeiih!! this just came flowing out of me while watching boruto tbh because i'm delusional lmao,,,, anyway, very self indulgent as always :) ignore typos pls i cant spell aaaand enjoy xx

likes & reblogs appreciated <3

warnings: none! SFW :) not proofread

masterlist

♢ɴᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ ᴜᴢᴜᴍᴀᴋɪ♢

✿sUCH a messy sleeper

❀he'd toss and turn throughout the whole night, ending up somewhere completely different than where he fell asleep on the bed

❀matching pyjama sets !!!

✿especially seasonal ones, he adores them

✿BLANKET HOGGER !!!

❀but not on purpose really, he just pulls it with him due to all his movements

✿u always wake up with it either on the floor or him laying atop of it

❀sometimes he hits u with his elbow or his feet, but pls don't tell him he WILL cry

✿just push him away, boy will not wake up under any circumstances

❀the both of u alWAYS cuddle when falling asleep

✿the usual position is with his arms around your waist, legs thrown over ur own and his face resting next to ur shoulder

❀for that exact reason he's a BIG SPOON !!

❀so so quick to fall asleep, and wakes up after u as well

✿but not at all groggy in the morning !! he's energetic from the second he opens his eyes and sees u preparing breakfast

❀overall just the softest boyfriend ever

♢ꜱᴀꜱᴜᴋᴇ ᴜᴄʜɪʜᴀ♢

❀now thIS dude sleeps like a corpse

✿he's not particularly prone on cuddling u, but he fairly enjoys having ur head on his chest and feeling ur fingertips draw circles against his skin

❀he'd never admit it tho obviously

✿mostly wears a black lose t-shirt and some short sweats or sumn 

❀just comfortable all around

✿i'm a firm believer in the back position

❀laying flat on the mattress, one arm either around u, or both resting on his belly

✿light sleeper, if i may

❀takes him pretty long to fall asleep as well, but counting ur breath usually calms him and makes it easier

✿u make everything easier for him actually

❀doesn't really care about a blanket, it all really depends on what u prefer while sleeping

✿often awoken by nightmares, but won't ever wake u up or tell u the next day because he thinks it's embarrassing

❀refuses to leave the bed in the morning, but isn't moody at all just very quiet

✿always helps u make breakfast and makes the bed without having to ask him to

❀overall just a calm lover

♢ᴋɪʙᴀ ɪɴᴜᴢᴜᴋᴀ♢

❀without a doubt, a snorer

✿like IM SORRY LADIES but c'mon

❀but not annoyingly loud, just breathy lil snores

✿the problem with it is: he won't move an INCH away from u ever, he's all up in ur business while sleeping

❀doesn't matter how, he's always got to feel u next to him somehow

✿i take him as a sleep talker too, mumbling incoherent words against your neck which only make u laugh tbh

❀akamaru's got his own bed next to the two of u, but some nights he crawls in between ur bodies, practically suffocating u

✿you really don't mind on colder nights, but in summer kiba makes him get off, due to having such a high body temperature already and he doesn't want u to complain even more

❀wore a shirt and pants at the beginning of ur relationship

✿but now??? u'd have to FORCE him to wear anything more than boxers

❀hates when u don't want to cuddle :(( might as well kill him fr

✿why need a blanket when he has you??

❀doesn't leave the bed AT ALL in the morning, u literally have to grab him by the feet and drag him out of it

✿he's a sweetheart, really

♢ꜱʜɪᴋᴀᴍᴀʀᴜ ɴᴀʀᴀ♢

❀dude HATES cuddling at the beginning of ur relationship, me thinks

✿but fear not, it just takes a bit of convincing from ur side and he's in on it

❀but it's subtle touches really, like holding his hand or having ur feet intertwined

✿if u've had a bad day, he'd definitely play with your hair to make u fall asleep, he's not a diCK

❀grey sweats all the way !!!!!

✿rarely ever wears a shirt, except for when it's cold of course

❀he seems much more like a light sleeper than not, but he's so grouchy when something wakes him up it's a drag really 

✿has to be completely dark and quiet in his room or he won't be able to close one eye

❀always sleeps on the side closest to the door

✿big on talking about both ur days at night because he's a very private person and loves spending time with u ALONE

❀deep talk at 2am?? u can bet on it

✿forehead kisses!!! once u wake up and neither of u want to get up and start ur day

❀he's such an attentive lover in general, i'm actually going insane 

♢ɴᴇᴊɪ ʜʏᴜɢᴀ♢

❀oh my lovely boy

✿i feel like he wouldn't move a MUSCLE while sleeping

❀sometimes you have to poke him to make sure he's still alive

✿AHEM

❀a light sleeper foshou

✿also ????

❀he would 100% wait for u to fall asleep first

✿would always run his fingertips over your back to make you tired

❀unfortunately, the closest to cuddling u two do, is ur head on his chest

✿he gets sweaty quickly, so he'll often sleep without a shirt (which u don't complain about obviously) and that's the reason why he doesn't necessarily NEED body contact (in this situation only!!)

❀but HUGE PLUS he'll sweet talk you to sleep almost every night 

✿asking about ur day from begin to end

❀he wants to know it ALL

✿in general, he's really big on making you as comfortable as possible before bed

❀would even wait till the morning to go pee because you look so peaceful laying on his chest

✿don't mind him watching u he just thinks ur so pretty ok

❀u wake up to the smell of coffee almost every morning

✿overall, as we been knew, the gentlest gentlemen to perhaps ever gentleman goodbye

♢ᴋᴀᴋᴀꜱʜɪ ʜᴀᴛᴀᴋᴇ♢

❀poor baby's the king of light sleepers

✿always ready to jump into battle and protect u if he has to, even if u convince him that ur safe and nothing's going to happen :(

❀casually wears a black tanktop and some sweats, mask and shinobi headband easily reachable on the bedside table at his right side

✿definitely enjoys u playing with his hair too much

❀he prefers to fall asleep with his head either on your chest or tugged just under your chin so he can hear you breathe and ur heart beat

✿he's so tragic oh my days

❀anYWAY light snores but only when he's REALLY gone and u rarely ever see him in this state so,,,,,

✿loves listening to ur stories before falling asleep

❀legs & arms intertwined and allathat 

✿you will never lay in bed without him picking up one of his books at least ONCE

❀it really calms him down u know

✿but start a conversation with him, and he's all urs, book long forgotten next to his mask and headband.

❀always wakes up earlier than u, preparing breakfast with said book between his fingers 

✿(he swears he'll close it once ur awake tho)

❀((he does))

a/n: AHEM i hope u liked it ???? pls tell me ??? AAAA i will see u beans next time bye bye xx

devider by @enchanthings

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel Characters:

Forgetting an anniversary

A/N: This is my first time doing anything like this, so if anybody wants to see more, feel free to ask! The Hazbin brain rot is real—

Warnings‼️: Established relationship, character x reader, fluff, but also some angst?, swearing, gender neutral!reader, mentions of alcohol.

Not really proofread

I didn’t mean to write that much for Alastor but here we are—

Lucifer:

To be fair this guy is the literal KING of hell, (the devil from, THE BIBLE) so to say he’s a busy man is an understatement.

This dude is also MAD depressed making him constantly disassociate, so he’s prone for losing track of what day it is.

You kind of figure he’s forgotten the day is coming up when he’s not hyperfixated on it.

For birthdays, planned dates, special occasions, this man usually goes ALL out.

He tries to keep what he has planned secret, but he’s usually bouncing off the walls the days before, and ends up letting his plans slip.

So when he’s not talking your ear off the day before your anniversary, you suspect the date might’ve slipped his mind.

When the day of your anniversary comes along and you’re not woken up with kisses and cuddles, possibly breakfast in bed, you KNOW your partner has forgotten.

However, you don’t tell him or remind him of the date. Since your partner had a busy day ahead, you didn’t want to force him to focus on you when there much more important things to be settled.

You kind of wallow in your own self pity, while you wait for Lucifer to return to the castle.

Lucifer had plenty of things scheduled for the day, but he can’t shake the feeling that he IS forgetting something.

(And he is)

He checks his schedule, triple checks he didn’t miss any meetings, makes sure he has his lucky duck in his suit pocket.

All seems well. But he still can’t shake the feeling that he’s forgetting something.

It’s not until he gets home later in the evening and SEES you, that he remembers the date.

This man is ON HIS KNEES, profusely apologizing to you. The king of hell is practically begging for your forgiveness.

“Why didn’t you tell me?? You’re more important than some stupid meetings! I’m so sorry, I won’t let this happen again.”

Despite if you say it’s alright, he calls off anything he has scheduled for the next week. Treating you to the prettiest and fanciest places every inch of the pride ring has to offer.

This man usually goes all out for your guys’ dates and such, but this is extravagant. He’s treating you like the royalty you are to hopefully become. (If he ever gets the gall to ask you-)

Vox:

Similar to Lucifer, but even worse in the sense of his schedule is ALWAYS booked. It’s not easy being the face of all tech in the Pride Ring.

This man gets ZERO days off, working 8-12 hour days depending on what’s going on.

He’s got meetings, interviews, paperwork, you name it. This man might as well be the living embodiment of stress.

The thing he usually looks forward to is going home to you. Finally being able to relax and rant about his day.

(Finally able to stop his fake ass smile that’s usually imprinted on his face)

So when he gets home to find you already in bed, fast asleep when you usually would stay up and wait for him, he’s a little peeved.

He tries to be understanding, not really knowing what you might’ve done in the day. Perhaps it could’ve exhausted you. Or maybe you were feeling under the weather.

He then almost throws a full blown hissy fit when he sees blanket and pillow on the couch

A silent demand from you that he is to sleep there for the night.

His screen glitches in silent rage, as he grumbles to himself about how childish you were being for no apparent reason.

The two of you had obviously gotten into fights/arguments, mostly about his work schedule.

But it was rare that those arguments wouldn’t end in the two of you talking it out and ending the night in a cuddle session to make it up to each other.

(Vox refuses to really apologize for his work, his pride won’t let him apologize for something he doesn’t think he did wrong.)

Vox kind of accepts your demand, not wanting to piss you off more. You could talk about it with him tomorrow.

Vox wakes up early the day after your anniversary, going to work as usual. Velvette is getting him in ready in a new suit she designed. While she’s getting him ready she asks;

“So how was your night? Did you have anything planned?”

“Uhh.. what? Planned for what?”

“Wasn’t yesterday your anniversary?”

“….Fuuu-huh-huuuck”

He ditches his morning broadcast, instead heading towards his monitor room. When he sees you’re awake, and on your phone, he makes his face appear on the small screen.

Which scares the shit out of you— he usually gave some sort of warning when he was going to just appear on your device.

By the look on his face, you can tell he now knows the reason you made him sleep on the couch. You give him a look in return, waiting for his excuse.

And just by the look on your face, he can tell you’re not willing to hear any bullshit he has to spit about his work being a priority.

His screen glitches in a slight panic, as he’s sort of loss for words at first. He could tell you were angry, and he knew only he was responsible for causing that.

To your surprise, he actually apologizes, saying how there was no excuse for his absence and your guys’ special day.

He reassures you it won’t happen again, telling you how he still loves you. He has you pick any place of your choice for the two of you to go to dinner tonight.

(He hacks into the system to be put on the reservation list)

Anything to somewhat make it up to one of the only souls that truly understands him in this miserable afterlife.

Alastor:

He’s not as busy of a man as Vox or Lucifer, but he’s not very big on celebrations like birthdays or anniversaries.

You’re his and he is yours, you both don’t need to prove that to anyone.

But…..it would feel nice to at least acknowledge the stepping stones in your guys’ relationship.

Alastor doesn’t really understand the hints you drop when mentioning your guys’ anniversary.

He definitely knows the date is coming, but once the day arrives, he treats it like it’s just any other day.

He notices your mood is less cheery than any normal day, but doesn’t connect the dots that it’s because of HIS behavior.

(What could he have POSSIBLY done wrong??)

He instead tries to cheer you up by poking fun at you the entire day. Calling you little names like “grouch, stick in the mud, drag”.

Insisting that you wipe that frown off your face and replace it with a similar smile to his own permanent one.

He unknowingly rocks the boat with his behavior, only making your mood turn more sour.

Before he can even continue his banter for the last half of the day, you’re ignoring him. Not giving any excuse to him either, you’re just walking away from him.

He makes fun of your bitter mood? You didn’t hear it.

He asks you a question? Your conversation with Charlie is more important.

He tries to hold your hand or embrace you? You suddenly have something totally necessary to get done on the opposite side of the hotel.

You are determined to push all of his buttons just as he had unknowingly done to you.

And this absolutely gets under his skin.

Alastor is one for control, he needs to know everything, he needs to be in charge of situations. Why you were being so stubborn, this man is CLUELESS. And that irritates him to no end.

Tensions are high in the hotel, with a very grumpy radio demon and his other half who refuses to sooth his anger.

Night falls on Hell painfully slow, as you just want this whole day to disappear and never return. You sit at the bar, swirling around the liquid in your glass.

Husk knew better than to pry at you and your annoyance towards your significant other. He instead kept your glass filled, and offered you a soft smile.

You’re slightly buzzed when your source of annoyance sits in the bar stool right next to you. You feel Alastor’s gaze on you, but you keep your eyes on your drink.

You feel static prick at your skin, making the hair on your arms rise from the chill. You hear the crackle of a very peeved radio demon sitting beside you.

Who did you think you were?? Ignoring someone like him! You were his lover and you were treating him like he meant nothing to you.

(At least that’s what it felt like)

The overlord beside you finally snaps, his voice toned heavily with radio static, his eyes darkening with dial pupils.

“What is with this behavior, 𝙈̳̎𝙮̳̎ 𝙙̳̎𝙚̳̎𝙖̳̎𝙧̳̎? What could possibly be your excuse for such immature actions towards me?”

Maybe it’s because you’re slightly buzzed from one too many drinks, maybe your emotions had been building up way too quickly from your irritation, maybe you felt guilty for treating your S/O like spoiled leftovers all day.

But as you look towards Alastor, observing his anger, your eyes suddenly well up with big crocodile tears, threatening to spill if you even dare to blink.

Alastor notices your expression soften and watches some unwanted tears slip down your face. There’s literally a record scratch as he just watches you desperately try and hide your face from him.

His eyes soften back to their normal red hue and he feels his harsh smile crack at the edges.

(If he could frown, he absolutely would seeing as you were so hurt by his actions.)

He’s quick to comfort you, pulling you in and whispering comforting words. Shooting a glare at Husk to leave the two of you alone and to not speak a word of this to anybody.

The two of you talk out your feelings about the day. You admit how you felt a bit abandoned by his lack of acknowledgement for the date.

He promises to you that for your next anniversary, because he knows you will always be his, he will make sure to make you feel as special as you truly are to him.

[ms0milk]

when you suddenly catch a nasty cold

gn!reader ft. todo, bkg, kiri, and (hearts in my eyes) shinsou

i am so ill and these are so silly, indulge me :,) 600ish words ea.

Todoroki starts to cry when you joke about dying.

He’s bought more flowers than can fit into your little apartment, picked up your prescriptions, tissues, juice, a heating pad, cleaned your kitchen, tucked you in– he paged the goddamned family physician– but watching you shiver under a heavy duvet surrounded by all the things that are supposed to help you get better ignites a fear he didn’t know that he had. They aren’t working. You’re still sick because of course you are, it’s only been a few hours, and still he can’t bring himself to move more than an arm’s length away from you because what if– if he leaves and–

“Shouto?”

“Yes,” his response is immediate when you pull him out of the ether. Always is.

I’m not going anywhere,” you croak, too conscious of how strange your voice sounds, “so you don’t have to stay with me all day.”

“I don’t mind.”

Todoroki is a wonderful boyfriend but when was the last time he went to the bathroom?

“You must be bored.”

He leans over you from his spot at the side of your bed and runs a blessedly too-cold hand across your forehead. Bored? Like he could calm down enough for that. “I can’t relax when you’re like this.”

You’d roll your eyes if they ached less, at your beautiful boyfriend and his cluelessly shoujo declarations of love framed by no fewer than two whole flower shops worth of camellias. He turns his hand over to palm your cheeks and wipe the water from your puffy eyes.

“Would you like me to leave?”

You shake your head, smiling under the weight of five thousand pounds of blankets and the heavy dip from his butt at the edge of your mattress. You’re inclined to reach a hand out to grab it, but you don’t have the energy to raise your head let alone fondle your boyfriend.

“There’s no one I’d rather be with in my final hours,” you rasp, joking, obviously joking.

This cold is something evil, chills, aches, snot– the works. But you couldn’t ask for a better nurse. A gentle, thoughtful, sexy, temperature controlled man, a man you would raze the city for, whose hand fits so perfectly in yours and who– whose trembling? You blink back up.

Todoroki’s features don’t shift or soften, his lip doesn’t quiver, but a tear does slip down his cheeks from those pool cool eyes– one after the next until his jaw is lined with them all patiently waiting to fall from his chin.

“Why, why why?” You panic and try to sit up but he comes to you. Todoroki cups your hand tightly in a hot and cold grip and bows over his own lap to rest his head in yours.

“You’re not going to die.”

“What?”

“I promise.”

“Sho, what– no of course I’m not. What’s wrong, baby?”

Your voice is so weak that he has no other choice than to sit back up and reach for the cold compress. He wipes his eyes with renewed determination when he turns back around, “I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you, Sho. ’m not going anywhere, promise.”

And when the Todoroki family doctor lets himself in, he does consider coming back another time at the sight of you, finally comfortable under a mountain of fabric, and your love curled around you asleep on top of the blankets.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

It’s not until you genuinely collapse that Bakugou realizes something is wrong. He didn’t even hit you that hard.

“You’re wide open today!” The restless pro looms across the arena, grinning. You both come to the agency’s underground ring on Saturdays to train and he’s blasted you clear across the room like he’s actually working for a paycheck.

There wasn’t any amount of money you would have accepted to get out of bed this morning but Bakugou, a less than casual hookup from work, accidentally spent the night and the surprisingly sleep soft rumble of his voice and the gentle kneed of palms as he pulled you back against his body under dawn light– was, persuasive.

The sooner I go in, the sooner I can go home and nurse this headache.

Headache. Naive self-convincing circles your head as you pull yourself to your feet like spinning stars from a goddamned cartoon. This is not a headache. Standing was fine a second ago, and the floor was fine a second ago, but the move from floor to feet fills your sinuses with sudden pressure and immediately the arena starts to swirl.

“C’mon twinkle toes, you’re– Y/n– shit–”

You’re not interested in where that sentence ends today and blessedly you don’t have to hear it because your ears have filled with cotton and you’re sinking back down to your knees. You’ve been congested like this before– it’ll pass in a minute or two, you know how it goes and you’re only embarrassed by the fact you were down so bad for your teammate this morning that you didn’t realize how your body had started to feel.

The vertigo eases somewhat when you rest your head on the ground, but Bakugou has cleared the empty room and already has his domineering hands all over you.

“Y/n? Y/n– do not close your eyes.”

“‘m not concussed, Kats.” But you know the explosive hero’s first fear isn’t exactly a head trauma. “You didn’t hurt me,” you add.

“That doesn’t narrow it down shitforbrains, if I didn’t hurt you then what’s wrong?” His aggressive tone doesn’t match his anxious hold though, and you melt a little when he kneels and pulls you into his lap.

Bakugou definitely doesn’t like the way your head seems too heavy for your neck and tilts himself back just enough for you to lean it against his chest. You look so fucking uncomfortable, scowling, eyes pinched closed. “What hurts?” He rasps as he moves to feel your temperature but his palms are sweating hard from a few quirk ignitions so he stalls, and lowers his forehead to yours instead. You’re soft where he touches you, warm in his hands.

You just need to sit, you don't need the #2 hero to cradle you in his arms like a fallen comrade on the battlefield. Although you don't complain. Your eyes squeeze shut harder as a tiny wave rocks you in the dark and then suddenly one ear releases. “I think I’m getting sick,” you breathe. Carmel in and relief out. “It’s my head–”

“Head hurts?”

“I’m just stuffed up, I– ” the other ear releases, “– just dizzy.”

Bakugou sits on his heels, perched. Should he pick you up? Who just gets dizzy, are you a fucking Victorian child? It’s terrifying to watch– you, his teammate, a capable hero, suddenly unable to stand.

But as the pressure behind your eyes levels out you can lift your head without discomfort. You can bring your arms up around Bakugou’s shoulders and settle your fingers in his hair. Bring him back down from where he’s tried to pull away.

Your foreheads bump again, “I’m okay.”

He growls, “I don’t believe you.”

So the hero takes you home. He makes sure you’re horizontal and goddamned tucked in before he slips from your front door and scares the shit out of you an hour later with a vice grip on some grocery bags and your apartment keys slipped around his middle finger. It’s almost romantic, the way he snaps at you to hold still while he dabs antiseptic on your scratches from sparring, or glares venom from behind the stove when you hobble to the kitchen to see what smells so good.

‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

When Kirishima lets himself in and you’re asleep on the kitchen floor, worry overrides his confusion.

You won’t pick up his calls, but he’s never missed a movie night and he’s not about to start today! He throws your front door open with his copy of your apartment key still in it and kicks off his gym crocs as loudly as he can manage so you can hear him come in. The last thing he wants is to startle you.

But you’re the one who nearly kills him when he slips through the genkan, arms full of snacks and catches sight of your slippered foot stretched out on the ground behind the corner of the kitchen wall.

He’s on his hands and knees faster than he can even take a full step, dropping glass soda bottles and soft melon bread alike from his arms, as he scrambles to where you must be lying lifeless on the other side of the entrance.

“Y/n–! Ah, huh.”

And you are, in a way, lifeless on the ground, but you’re breathing. And smiling? Curled up on the white tiles in front of the sink cabinet.

“Y/n?” Kirishima doesn’t wait to ponder, instead placing a hand on the side of your head to begin the checks for a vertebral injury. But you coo, something completely unintelligible, and you’re much too warm. You tilt your face into his palm and every inch of you is hotter than the next.

“Y/n? C’mon on back to me Y/n, you gotta tell me what’s wrong.”

Maybe it’s the chill of the floor or the addition of his other hand cupping your cheek, but your lashes heft apart just enough to register who it is trying to resuscitate you in the kitchen.

“Ei?”

Kirishima, always handy in a fire, has every hospital route an EMT could ever need memorized from all his volunteer work with the fire department and mentally scrolls through every single one as you try to form a sentence.

“you shouldn’t be here, Eiji, m’sick.”

“What?”

“flu,” you murmur and pull your hands to your side to try and rise. Kirishima doesn’t register anything not directly related to whether or not you’re suffering from blunt force trauma– except for the fact he could recall the exact date and time your dream drowsy smile falls and perks back up again now for the next fifty years unprompted.

“–tried to text you,” you manage as the redhead helps you sit up. The sentence comes out in gasps instead of coughs as you try to spare the air of any extra germs, “I can’t watch the movie tonight."

He laughs with pent up anxiety and simultaneous relief– he’s taken that charming fireman’s knee at your side and you wish in your flu-addled state that you’d stayed unconscious long enough for him to hoist you into his arms. Instead Kirishima places both of his big soft hands back around your face to brush away the dust and crumbs.

“Why are you on the floor?”

“‘got hungry,” you admit openly because you know it’ll make him smile, and with his face this close to yours you’ll be able to watch the skin around his eyes crinkle up too. “Then tired. I just needed to sit for a bit.”

His eyes do crinkle up. And his teeth bit at his lip like he’s trying not to be amused.

“Y/n, you are very sick. And very sweaty.” And the sweetheart, the biggest crush you’ve ever had, your closest friend, the man you dreamed of on the kitchen floor, asks if he can carry you to the bath.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

Why are you breathing so hard? Shinsou is the only pro in the office that you can’t hide a goddamned thing from. Maybe it’s because he works primarily in the underground– observant, sneaky– that it’s obvious, they way you wobble on your feet when your eyes are closed too long, or the sudden effort it takes you just to climb the stairs.

Is he supposed to be able to focus on paperwork with you trying to catch your breath in a hallway when you think no one’s around? None of your sidekicks are brave enough to ask why you wore a mask to work today, but it’s summer and the air pollution gets bad enough that some of them have to too. Are they really all that stupid? Has he done the worst hiring job of any pro in the city?

“Shinsou,” you murmur across the now-empty end of day office and he whips around because god knows how many times you’ve tried to get his attention while he’s been off in space.

“Yeah boss?”

Your voice is rough with sick when you reply and it would be so fucking sexy if it didn’t remind him to be so anxious about your wellbeing. “I’ve told you not to call me that, you haven’t been my sidekick for years,” and then you’re smiling even as you hold back a cough, “makes me feel old.”

“You are older than me.”

“By a year!” You sputter and then your lungs take over, heaving and hacking so hard you have to double over your desk to steady your forehead against something. Shinsou’s on his feet immediately, navigating the office in sweats and his capture gear to get to you.

What happened? This morning it was just a tickle at the top of your throat but the aches sank from your head, down your spine, and flooded through your body just as quickly as the sun’s shadow crawls across a stone. Which is to say, all day long and all too slowly to realize you probably should have called in sick.

“Here.” A cool hand materializes on the back of your neck and you roll your head to the side to check what exactly has arrived for you. With his free hand Shinsou presses a paper water cup forward, which you’d love to take if you had the energy to pull your mask down.

“went to school together n’ everything,” you breathe.

“Boss, you should go home for the night, I’ll– I can finish this paperwork.”

By now the dark-eyed hero has sunk slowly into a crouch beside your chair and keeps a careful hand on your back to ensure you don’t slip to the floor sideways one way or the other. Thank god he sent the rookies home because stupid or otherwise, you'd have to be braindead not to notice this adoration that he can’t seem to get a handle on.

“Shinsou,” you murmur again, just as sexily as last time and he feels just as much if not more shame at how lovely it is to hear you call to him sweet and low, “I can’t get up.”

“What?”

That’s it though. There’s no trick or test. Shinsou has a fucked up sleep schedule from all his overnight patrols so he always stays in the office late, but you? You’ve been trying to rally for the last two hours and now you’ve used all your energy teasing a man whose eyes go bright every time you say his name. It serves you right, collapsing at your desk after using the last of your strength to squeeze as many Shinsous as you could into an evening.

“call me a taxi?”

He rises to his feet, “Will you even be able to get up your front steps?”

“sure hope so.”

“Do you feel nauseous?” He’s shuffling around the room now, plucking keys from hooks, and you watch him sideways with your head still resting in the day’s paperwork. “You gonna aspirate if I let you go home alone?”

“if god’s feeling extra silly”

He scoffs to hide the smile. Shinsou returns to your side to lay his faded denim jacket over your shoulders and then crouches again at eye level.

“Y/n,” he urges, and rests a hand to the back of your head to get your attention, “If I carry you downstairs, will you be able to hold onto me?”

Downstairs is a bluff. With you snug and mostly unconscious between his jacket and his back, Shinsou carries you home. Face full of your clothes, hair, quirk, whatever’s getting in his eyes, under the stars, and down back streets to avoid any publicity, the hero tries to walk gently enough that you don’t whimper from the impact of his steps.

“Thank you...Toshi,” you whisper just when he thinks you’ve finally fallen asleep and the big bad underground pro almost stumbles hard enough to fly.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

The part where Jeremiah’s like if I start kissing you I’m scared I won’t be able to stop or something like that! Chills

My Jeremiah stuff keeps flopping, why are you doing this to me...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Under the moonlit sky of the golf course, everyone was getting ready for bed. Steven and Taylor had gotten tablecloths and cushions from the debutante ballroom. It wasn’t as comfortable as a real bed, but it was better than sleeping on the grass. At least it was summer. And thank god it wasn’t pouring rain.

Not feeling tired yet, you decided to walk around. These past nights, your dreams have been haunted by bright blue eyes and a sweet smile, as if pressing you to make a move on Jeremiah Fisher. You shared a kiss on the boardwalk last summer and didn’t stop thinking about it all year. It was embarrassingly pathetic.

Talking about Jeremiah, you spotted him by the golf cart, folding tablecloths to make blankets. A smile curled on your lips and you walked toward him. 

‘’Hey, Jere.’’ 

‘’Hey,’’ he returned, short and dry. 

A frown drew between your eyebrows. ‘’Do you want to go inside and finish the movie?’’ 

‘’Not really. It’s kinda late.’’ He continued folding the tablecloths, completely ignoring you. 

‘’Oh. Okay.’’ You nodded, understanding. It was late. ‘’If you ever need a place to sleep tomorrow night, you can come to my house. I’m sure my parents—’’ 

‘’That’s very kind of you, but no thanks.’’ 

You lowered your eyes at the grass, watching it slip between your toes in your sandals. You were trying to be kind, but he obviously didn't want your help. 

He was still upset about the house and his aunt and dad teaming up to sell it, but there was something else. Something related to you. 

Last night, on the boardwalk, he was sweet and touchy and even gave you some of his candy he and the boys won. Now, he was a different person. Cold. Distant. It’s like he didn’t want to talk to you, to be with you.

You could only think of one thing related to you that Jeremiah could be acting strange over. 

‘’Is it because of the kiss we shared last summer?’’

You hadn't talked about it since it happened and kisses often make things awkward in friendships.

Jeremiah shook his head. ‘’It’s not that,’’ he said. ‘’I…I liked the kiss.’’ 

‘’Then why do you keep pushing me away? Since you arrived in Cousins, you’ve been so confusing. You almost hold my hand in the theater and now you push me away like I have plague. I can’t decipher those mixed signals, Jeremiah. I'm not a detective, I'm a teenage girl.’’

With a deep breath, Jeremiah looked directly into your eyes. ‘’Because when I’m alone with you, all I think about is kissing you and if I kiss you, I don’t know that I can ever stop.’’

His words hung in the air, mixing with the crickets' chirp, a confession of feelings you were not expecting to hear tonight — or ever. Your heart started beating faster in your chest, realizing that you had been wrong about Jeremiah. He wasn’t giving you mixed signals because he was playing with you, he was giving you mixed signals because he was scared of his feelings for you. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Jeremiah spoke first. 

‘’Life has been really hard these past months, but I never wanted to push you away. I wanted to call you after our kiss, I wanted to ask you on a date and hold your hand and kiss you again. But I found out about my mom and I couldn’t think about anything else,’’ he admitted, his voice soft and earnest. 

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of insincerity, but you didn’t see any. 

‘’When I saw you at Rosie’s, I was so happy.’’ A genuine soft smile tugged at his lips, thinking back to two days ago. ‘’Seeing you face to face is much better than through your instagram.’’ 

You raised an eyebrow at him. ‘’You stalked my instagram?’’ 

Jeremiah covered his face and groaned, embarrassed. ‘’Is that all you picked up?’’ 

You uncovered his face and intertwined your fingers with his. ‘’No, but it’s an interesting anecdote. I didn’t know you were the type of guy who stalked girls on social media.’’ 

‘’I’m not!’’ he defended, regretting saying that now.

‘’I know.’’ You chuckled. ‘’I’m just teasing you.’’ 

A sense of warmth and comfort enveloped the two of you, the tension that had been lingering between you dissipating. Although all of your friends were sleeping a few meters nearby, it felt like there was no one else in the world but the two of you. Especially when you looked up into his eyes. It’s so easy to get lost in their beauty and forget everything else.

Jeremiah let out a small laugh, relieved that you were taking his confession and embarrassment in good spirits. He looked down at your lips, thinking about the last time he tasted the vanilla cupcake lip gloss on them. Were you still wearing the same? It probably wore off by now, but Jeremiah was dying to know if you tasted the same. 

Taking a small breath of courage, he leaned in closer, closing the distance between you and gently pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and tender, Jeremiah’s hand coming to cup your face gently while yours reached his shoulder to pull him down to your height. 

When you broke apart, you smiled against his lips, dying to kiss him again. ‘’Do you want to set your blanket next to mine?’’ you suggested, glints of hope in your eyes.

Jeremiah nodded. ‘’If that’s okay with you.’’

—

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[tealeafgrimm]

Cold Nights

Harry Potter x Reader Words: 716 Summary: Together with the Golden Trio you are searching for Horcruxes and winter has come. Despite all the measures, you just can't get warm and the cold keeps you from sleeping. But the concept of body heat could help you.

Months had passed since the beginning of your search. So far you had only had minor successes. To make matters worse, winter had finally caught up with you. The temperatures had dropped surprisingly sharply overnight. But today it snowed for the first time. And not just a little. You didn't know when you had last seen so much snow.

Like every night, Hermione had conjured up her glass-fires to warm up the tent. This seemed to be enough for Ron, Hermione and Harry, but you were incredibly cold. You had pulled your blanket up to under the tip of your nose to try and expose as little of your body as possible to the cold air.

Tired, you looked at the other beds. Ron was snoring and obviously fast asleep. Hermione and Harry were also lying motionless in their beds. You yourself were also tired, but the cold made your body shiver. Your teeth were chattering and you were struggling to control your body's twitching.

You didn't know what else to do. You didn't want to wake the others. Rolling onto your side, you pulled your knees towards you, hoping to warm yourself with your own body. Again your teeth chattered.

"Is everything okay?" you heard Harry murmur tiredly. He was sleeping in the bed closest to you. In the dim light of the blue flames, you could see his face. He looked at you from squinted eyes.

"Y-yes, I'm fine. I'm just cold," you replied, shivering. You didn't want him to lose sleep over you.

"I can hear your teeth chattering all the way over here. Didn't you put a warming spell on your blanket?"

"Of course I did. I don't know why I'm so cold. I feel like my toes are freezing." You tried to laugh, but to be honest, you felt more like crying. You were dead tired and all you wanted to do was sleep.

The rustling of a duvet pulled you out of your thoughts. You could see Harry's silhouette coming towards you.

"Move over a bit." Harry was standing right in front of your bed, looking down at you.

"What?" you asked him, confused.

"I want you to slide over a bit."

"What for?"

"I can't sleep with your teeth chattering like that. You need to sleep, I'm just trying to help you."

You made room for him. Not a second later he had laid down next to you. His body heat was directly noticeable.

"Thank you Harry," you whispered and pressed yourself as close to him as you could.

He put a hand around your waist. You were glad it was dark, because a blush crept into your cheeks. You hadn't wanted to admit it to yourself before, but you had definitely had a crush on him for a long time. But at the same time he was your best friend and you didn't want to risk losing him as such.

What you didn't realise was the fact that you weren't the only person who was suddenly unfathomably flustered. Harry lay rigidly beside you. When he had decided to lie down in bed with you, he had not expected that being so close to you would paralyse him. He didn't know how to position himself. He didn't want to pressure you into anything and at the same time he never wanted to let you go again.

It took quite a while until you both finally fell asleep. But at some point exhaustion overcame both of you. The cold of winter had disappeared in the meantime and a pleasant warmth enveloped you, allowing you a peaceful and deep sleep.

The next morning Hermione and Ron were the first to wake up. Surprised and grinning at the same time, they both looked at the sleeping figures of their two friends.

"It's about time they finally got together," Ron finally said. It had been exhausting to watch the two of them dancing around each other.

"Do you think we should wake them up?" asked Hermione quietly. 

"Don't you dare," a raspy voice replied, making Ron and Hermione jump and wince.

Harry had opened one eye, looked at his two friends, wrapped his arm tighter around you and finally closed his eyes again.

The search for Horcruxes could wait another hour or two.

[amsznn]

heyy i love your writing! idk if this is where you take requests or not or if you do requests but i have a kinda specific one? could you do one with matt where y/n has her own small, cozy home, and she and matt kinda unspokenly like each other and hang out alone all the time? like they're super close and flirt low key all the time in small, sweet ways, and they're "just friends" but could definitely be found watching a scary movie alone together in her super cozy room *sorta* cuddling? going on late night drives together and talking for hours?? that kinda relationship! like id just LOVEE for you to write about a breezy fall night, her bedroom windows open, fall scented candles in her room, homemade chocolate chip cookies, and a scary movie kinda cuddled up with matt under thick blankets? but they obviously like each other a lot and he's the first one to tell her and share really cute kisses??? you know?? like matt can't fully focus on the movie because his heart is beating out of his chest with super cute feelings for y/n. just lots of fluff, cozy fall vibes, nothing super cringey! i hope i got the very specific vibe across haha!

CAN WE BE MORE? - m. sturniolo ⋆⭒˚.

A/N: TYSM for this request, its soo good and hopefully you enjoy reading my take on it!

-

no one was more excited for fall like you and your best friend matt were. in your eyes, fall was when you thrived the most. with the nice breeze, to the crunch of the leaves under your converse as you make yourself up your driveway, nothing could compare.

opening up the door to your small apartment, you immediately felt at ease. quickly kicking off your shoes, you made your way to your living room that was sorta a mess from yesterday’s activities. the triplets came over to bake cookies with you, but chris ended up crashing on the couch. it was no big deal though, you loved the triplets. maybe sometimes you had a little more love for one.

snapping out of your thoughts, you checked your phone to see the time. 5:30. the triplets would be coming over once again so you could have your anual scary movie session.

the day went on with you cleaning every crevasse of your house, of course knowing it would go back to it’s horrid state after the boys got there. then you made your way to your room, looking around to see if anything was out of place. you noticed that matt’s blanket was hanging off your bed so you made way to grab it. matt sometimes liked sleeping over to get away from all the chaos. it was normal for your friendship with him. nothing ever really happened though.

although you loved all three of them, you couldn’t help but wish for some more alone time with matt. maybe it was selfish but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart pounded ten times faster whenever he was around, or when he would sneak glances at you thinking you weren’t looking. maybe it was all in your head, you thought to yourself.

the time was now 6:20, and the sun had already fully set, which made for a cozy environment in your house with the lights dimmed, and pumpkin scented candles flickering. you also made a mental note to check on the cookies you put under the oven.

a few minutes later you heard your front door start to open. it didn’t alarm you since the triplets had an extra key. well, matt had an extra key. “y/n?” you heard a familiar voice call out from the hallway. you couldn’t hide your excited expression as you made your way towards the voice.

you expected to be bombarded by nick, and chris as well but nope, it was only matt. “hey, where are your brothers?” you asked, taking the bag of snacks out of his hands.

shuffling to take his shoes off matt says, “well, i thought it’d be better if it was just us.” you blinked for a couple of moments before smiling. “sure why not, maybe we can actually finish the movie this time.” you chuckled, before making your way to the kitchen, with matt following closely behind you.

he sighed when he smelled the aroma of the cookies surrounding the area. he always secretly loved coming over alone. he liked spending time with just you. of course you guys hang out occasionally like going to random food places together, or heading to the thrift store, but something was different when just hanging out at your house. over the years it’s become like a safe place for matt where he can escape from the world for a little bit. you were his escape. except how does he tell you that?

he watched as you opened the oven to take the cookies out, forgetting about oven mitts, and heat. “hot! hot! hot!” you shouted but refusing to drop your cookies on the floor. matt quickly made his way to you with and oven mitt and placed the cookies on the counter before turning to you. “are you okay??” he asked while gently taking your hands to inspect your burns.

it was nothing fatal, nothing cold water and vaseline couldn’t fix. he led you to the sink and held your hand under the cold water. “stay right here, okay? i’ll go get some vaseline.” matt knew his way around your house like the back of his hand, so he came back with the vaseline in no time. taking your hand out of the water, he gently dried it with a towel, before applying the vaseline to it.

you scrunched your face up at the uncomfortable contact which matt seemed to notice. “i know, i know, but this is what happens when you forget the fucking oven mitt”

you couldnt help but laugh. “hey, i just wanted my cookies.” matt softly smiled before letting your hand go. you both stood there for what seemed like an eternity just staring at each other. until you realized the oven was still on. (id burn the house down yall)

-

after that whole fiasco, you and matt ended up settling down on the couch to watch your favorite scary movie. there wasn’t a lot of space between you two since you liked being close to matt whenever watching these movies. no matter who was there you subconsciously were always closer to him.

the movie started and you were bundled up in your blanket while matt’s arm rested on the couch behind you. although the movie was creepy, the smile on your face almost never left since you felt so secure with matt. eventually though, that smile faded away as a jumpscare popped up on your screen. causing you to jump closer into matt’s side.

on the other hand, matt was freaking out. and not because of the movie. sure you guys have cuddled before, but that doesn’t mean he never longed for more. or for it to more than just two friends being close. his eyes darted between you and the screen. he was sure you could hear the pounding of his chest. he gently removed his arm from the couch and wrapped it around your shoulder, making sure to watch your reaction, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

you sighed at the contact and rested your head on his chest further. if anyone walked in right now, they’d definitely think you were a couple. but unfortunately you were just two friends as of right now.

eventually the movie ended, but you and matt’s position on the couch didn’t. his arm was still around you, afraid that if he’d move just a little, you’d move away. you looked up at matt and found him staring right back at you. this made you shift up, to properly sit. “what?” you asked him.

matt’s mouth only opened and closed. desperately trying to find the right words. eventually he just sighed, letting everything out. “y/n, i know we’ve been friends for a while but i really cant keep ignoring my feelings like this.” matt shifted on the couch as you listened, worried that you did something wrong.

“i like you, or maybe love im not sure, but i do know that you mean so much to me, and just being friends is killing me.” matt paused for a moment to catch his breath from rambling so much. “i just want to be more.”

“you have no idea how much ive been wanting to hear that from you.” you softly laughed as you watched matt’s face soften. “i love you too, matt.”

matt only smiled as he brought you into a hug, resting his head on your shoulder. “can i kiss you?” he asks, close to a whisper. you nodded before wrapping your arms around his neck. matt smiled at this and leaned in, before his lips landed on yours. matt’s arms made their way down your body and landed on the sides of your waste, trying to pull you in closer.

it felt like your heart was going to explode at any moment with the way matt’s lips were moving against yours. he was gentle, but passionate. matt pecked your lips a couple of times before pulling back and holding you there.

“so, can i be your boyfriend?” he asks, bringing his hand up to caress your face.

“of course you can.”

-

A/N: i really hope this is what you meant / wanted. this was an amazing first request, i was literally smiling while reading it. If anything, message me if you want anything added or changed and leave some more requests!

also ty guys so so much for the love on my recenr works, its so crazy, love you all <3

[shysuccubusstuff]

zayne's bunny

Content: Established relationship, pet names (kinda corny?), consensual, non-proof reader (as always).

Note: This is based on the Heartfelt Paradise date in which he sort of calls the MC bunny.

A few minutes after you called him, Zayne appeared at the door, his face as calm as always, but his body language showed how he was a bit anxious after your friends had to call him, as you refused to move if he didn't go to pick you up. You suddenly felt how two strong arms took you, lifting you as if you were as light as a feather and making you a bit more dizzy.

"I'll take her home, sorry." Zayne lost no time, simply explaining how he was a childhood friend of yours, quickly leaving some of his own money on the table and leaving shortly after his arrival.

He got you on the passenger seat, allowing you to rest and putting a small blanket he had inside his car, almost chuckling at how you tried to clinge to his body heat.

"My cute girlfriend has turned into a little bunny?" He let a soft smile escape his lips, but he got focused and entered the car, driving towards your home while avoiding the traffic that was around that hour.

A few minutes later both of you had arrived to your house, once again, Zayne took your body in a bridal style, putting your password into the door and entering your house, closing the door before letting your soft body on top of your bed. He thought about changing your clothes, as you still had your formal clothes on, but as you hadn't done anything of that type, he simply opened the sheets, covering you with them. Just as he was about to get out of the room and perhaps sleep in the living room, your hand stopped him, your fingers tightly clinging to his shirt.

"What's the matter, darling?" He got close once again, his hand on top of your forehead, making sure that you didn't have any fever caused by the rain that had got both of you a bit wet (not enough to worry, but maybe your health was a bit weaker than his).

"Zayne...don't leave me..." Your words were sluggish, making you sound almost too cute to bear. He smiled, trying to get your grip to soften, as he knew he wouldn't have the heart to leave you after you begged him with such an alluring tone, almost making him way too weak for his taste.

"It's quite late at night, so both of us should rest a little, we can spend as much time together as you want tomorrow, it's that ok?" He tried to act as calm as possible, he knew you were still a bit drunk, so it was obviously not ok for him to do anything that you could regret the next morning. As soon as he got up, ready to leave the room he was pulled, making him fall on top of you. "(name)! Are you ok? You should be careful, I could have harmed you after falling on top of you." While he was complaining about your boldness and lack of self-awareness, you curled around him, your arms surrounding him and even having the nerve to get on top of him, cosying on his chest and smiling just like a small cat would do. He was about to complain once again, but he simply sighed, taking off his shoes and getting both of you on the bed, starting to dooze off as the time went on.

By the time you woke up, it was around five in the morning, suddenly feeling certain warmth under you, as you checked, you realized it was Zayne, who was still asleep, hair undone and his shirt with a few buttons open, allowing you to touch his bare chest. You were about to get out of the bed, but his hands stopped you, pulling you into his chest and whispering against your ear "Dear... why are you moving? You didn't move during the whole night but now you're all lively all of sudden? Are you trying to rile me up?" While he was saying that, you realized that there was something a bit too close to your lower half, you tried to move with even more agitation, causing his grip to strengthen and hearing him grunt.

"(name)... why are moving so much? Do you want to let go that badly? But you were the one that invited me to your bed." Zayne finally opened his eyes, locking eyes with each other.

"Zayne!... your thing is..." You tried to explain it, trying to get up and sitting on top of him, the face of Zayne reddened a bit, suddenly feeling his bulge even more prominent against you. Instead of what you expected, his grip changed, moving his cold hands to your hips and sending shivers all through your body. He got up, sitting in the bed and putting your foreheads together.

"Are you trying to test me...? I'm not made of ice, I hope you know that..." One of his hands moving his hand upwards, getting some of your hair out of your face and kissing your lips, bitting you a bit and making you whine, the heat starting to rise up.

"Zayne... I want to..." Your hands thrilled up his body, kissing his neck and collarbones his lips parting and allowing soft moans to leave his mouth. "No fair." As he said that, his hands got under your shirt, lifting it up and getting rid of it in the process and tossing it to the side. He made a trail if kisses, starting on your soft lips and moving until he reached your bare chest, almost causing you to melt on the spot. As he heard your pretty moans, he got even more euphoric, finally being able to touch your bare skin without any type of contemplation. His hands started to play with your nipples, caressing them without applying too much force and kissing them, giving them subtle nibbles, teasing you while his member was starting to grow bigger under you.

"Darling..." His deep voice resonated in your ear, almost making you whine from goosebumps that were caused just by his voice. While you wrapped your arms around his back, he got you up, switching your positions, allowing you to truly see the great size difference between both of you, as he was clearly towering over your frame. He lowered, kissing your soft lips and letting his hands run around your cushiony body. His hands finally reached your pants, slowly getting rid of them and throwing them just as he had done before with the rest of your clothes, he got his hands on your knees, opening your legs and seeing the wet patch that was easily perceived in your underwear. Your face flushed, causing you to try to close your legs, but Zayne kept them open, smiling as he saw your flushed face. He wasted no time, getting his face close to your underwear and peppering all over it, his hands slowly drifting towards your special place. His fingers moved your panties to the side, sending butterflies to your tummy, Zayne was already playing with your clit with his mouth, while his fingers were preparing your entrance, making your head feel as light as a feather.

"You look so pretty like this, baby, all open and ready for me. Be a good girl and stay still, yeah? I will take care of everything." His deep voice sending shivers down your spine, moulding your mind and cohering you into becoming his pretty girlfriend, always ready for him.

You felt how he entered you, the stretching being painfully slow, but when he was finally balls-deep into you, you couldn't help but let out a soft whine, hugging his broad back as you tried your best not to cum on the spot. He waited a bit, making small movements until he finally felt you were relaxing a bit, then he started to create a kind of rhythm, your eyes rolling to your skull, did sex ever feel that good?

Suddenly you were moved, his big hands took your sore body and putting you on top, his hands being wrapped around your waist. Just as you were about to complain, he moved you a little, using just a tiny bit of his strength, with this new position the tip of his dick was almost piercing your cervix, making you go dumb on top of him

"What's wrong, baby? I though bunnies loved to jump, that's why I changed you, can't handle it?" Zayne was looking at you, eyes hazy from the pleasure, his calloused hands moving you up and down, grinding you against his dick, making you mewl with tears falling down your cheeks, making you cum on the spot, digging your nails on hid shoulders and causing you to lose the poor strength you had left.

He smiled as he felt your body shiver, your cunt holding him even tighter than before. He caressed your head, making small circles in your hips as a way to make you melt, his arms making you feel completely safe.

[annwe24]

Part 1!DEVOTION

Part 2

CREATOR!LUCIFER X READER

Summary: You feel trapped in the luxurious cage that Lucifer created.

Reading in dim light isn't really a good idea. Your eyes feel itchy and letters are running all across the page. Huffing in annoyance, you unwillingly close the book to go to sleep. Tonight is not just it, perhaps the lack of sleep has finally caught up to you. Your pillow feels a bit rocky as the book is carefully tucked under. That night, your dreams are made of angels joyfully singing their symphony, unaware of the angelic eyes watching your sleeping form.

Morning comes by as usual. You are woken up by the sweet smell of hot pancakes and the sight of a pair of neatly folded clothes thrown onto your bed. Lucifer has always insisted that you let him take care of almost everything around the house. You obviously don't agree. However, morning is something you would gladly give in. A big reason being his signature pancakes and the other being you don't have to wake up too early. Hastily put on the clothes he has put together for you, you rush to the kitchen, wanting to have breakfast as soon as possible.

Good morning! Did you sleep well? Lucifer cheerfully greets you with a toothy grin.

Very well! Are you going to be in the workshop today?

I’m afraid not, my dear. You see, Charlie insisted that we must make plans for the upcoming extermination.

Can I come too?

Your question makes Lucifer halts his cooking. You have expected this. He is always reluctant about you doing anything Heaven related, trying to steer your gaze elsewhere as if Heaven is the forbidden fruit of Hell. At least, that’s what it is in his eyes.

I’m sorry, sweetheart. You know what it is.

But don't you think it's time I-

Anne. We’ve talked about this.

Okay…

Lowering your head, you patiently wait for the food. You know better than to make any moves with that hint in his voice. It is one of his turnoffs that you come to notice during decades of living with him; even Charlie, his daughter, wouldn't have caught it on the spot like you. Lucifer once said: No one has known me quite like you.

…

I had a really shitty day.

Lucifer says as he slumps his head onto your shoulder. Pulling the blanket closer to the both of you, you let out an acknowledged hum:

Mind telling me what went wrong?

That fuck head radio demon. Do you know him? I think his name is Alastair? Nevermind that. Nothing important. His jackass thinks he can just simply swoon over Charlie and convince her I’m replaceable. Ugh can't fucking believe that.

You don't… normally swear. I guess that demon is pretty rough huh?

Lucifer lets out a huff and turns up the volume of the TV:

Yeah…

Tonight is just one of those movie nights: Lucifer talks over the movie about anything to you. Today is just one of those days. Every day is the same. You are a being yet incomplete as a being. You realize you are barely alive. He chooses your clothes. He cooks your food. He soothes your pain. He is everything. Slowly, everything around you doesn't make any sense. The noise coming from the tv becomes static and Lucifer’s voice seems so distant. Why are you even created? Is your sole existence destined to be some sort of amusement for the King? And why is he so avoidant about Heaven? Are you the problem?

Y/n. Y/n!

You immediately snap out of your messy thoughts. Something about Lucifer always manages to pull you right back. Placing a hand on your shoulder, he asked with a worried voice:

Did something happen?

You quickly turn your head to look at him. Your eyes filled with panic:

Oh! I think I’m just sleepy. Yeah… That's all.

Still, you know better than anything that is not enough. Nothing is enough for him, especially if it’s something from you. He lets out a pitiful smile and quietly turns off both the tv and the light, steps out of the bed. Before heading out, he doesn't forget to say his usual goodnight to you. How ironic. You think. He knows you are not going to have a good night. However, you greatly appreciate the personal space he gives you. You give in to exhaustion and slump back to the bed. Like a habit, you reach out to take your book under the pillow. Last night, you left at the most interesting part-the dawn of humanity. Excitement fills you to the brim just thinking about-

There is no book.

Refusing to believe the loss, you throw the pillow out of your sight, only to be greeted with disappointment. Many scenarios play out inside your little head. There is no doubt this is the work of Lucifer. He must have known from the beginning and let you slip through for a while. You can't bear to imagine the things he would do if he losed control. Self-control is one of his greatest strengths. Although, you are not so sure about that right now. After evaluating everything, you decide that it is best to sleep right now and deal with the problem in the morning. That night, your dreams are made of demons gawking and gnawing at your frail form, unaware of the angelic eyes watching your sleeping form. Every day is not the same anymore.

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Hello!! All good?

I would like to know if you could write something for Rhysand, something where the reader is needy and very clingy with Rhys, like, she wants to stay on his lap, always holding hands, and the reader even goes to sleep on Rhys' chest when he was everyone in the inner circle together? Rhys even has to walk around with the reader clinging to him, but obviously Rhys is cool with that, so maybe Cass says something about the reader because she's clingy and Rhys defends her??

Super cute!!!

Hold me.

Rhysand x f!Reader

Masterlist.

Warnings; Mentions of trauma, swearing and violence.

Hope this is what you had in mind. I've been enjoying your requests way too much. I had a rough week, and it ruined my whole mood and affected my writing so I'm sorry if you don't like it.

You used to be a very independent female, you always bickered with your mate Rhys over his overprotective character, you would spend hours explaining to him that you need some space to breathe and him shouting that he just wants to keep you safe. That was until he got trapped under the mountain, you yearned for him, and guilt burned in your blood, you couldn’t understand why you kept pushing him away. Then he came back and the trauma of losing him changed you completely, you couldn’t stand being away from him even for a minute, and even if you were in the same room, you would panic if you weren’t touching him. Rhys was enjoying your new clingy self way too much. Wherever he was sitting you would crawl on his lap, when you had dinner, you would sit next to him holding his hand and during the night you would climb on him and sleep, covering him like a blanket.

You were hanging with your family at the house of wind, Nesta and Feyre were bickering about something, Amren was watching them with a smirk on her face and Mor, Cassian, Azriel and Rhysand were lost deep into conversation about the court of nightmares. You were sitting on your mate’s lap, resting your head on his shoulder as you watched everything that was happening around. Rhys was playing with your fingers as he talked. You felt safe in his arms, his warmth and the beating of his heart making you feel sleepy and before you knew it your eyes closed, and you got lost in the darkness.

“I can fly there faster than you can winnow” Cassian boomed, and Mor snorted.

Rhysand stiffened and glared at his brother.

“Keep it down, y/n is sleeping” he hissed and his grip around you hardened.

Cassian frowned but didn’t say anything. Everyone watched with soft smiles on their faces as Rhysand got up with you in his arms and walked to the balcony nodding at them goodbye. He winnowed home and carried you to your shared room, after he removed your clothes and his own, he laid on the bed and placed you on top of him, sighing at the feeling and caressing your back. He fell asleep with a smile.

Morning came and you woke up crying. You had a nightmare of losing him again. He held you in his arms while you wept, kissing your head and murmuring sweet promises about never leaving you again. You spent the whole day clinging onto him like your life depended on it and whined when you had to get ready for dinner at the house of wind. Your whines broke Rhysand’s heart and he followed you around as you got ready, his hand never leaving yours.

“Winnow or fly?” he asked.

You thought about it for a bit and grinned as you said “Fly”.

He had already summoned his wings since he knew you would choose flying, you wouldn’t miss the opportunity to be in his arms.

When you landed on the balcony, he tried to place you on your feet, but you quickly manoeuvred yourself and wrapped your legs around his waist, nesting your face in his neck. He chuckled and his one hand moved beneath your bottom, he gave your butt a squeeze making you yelp, and his other hand went to your back, rubbing soothing circles.

“Are you comfortable pretty girl?” he asked and left a soft kiss on your head. You hummed and he smiled.

He walked inside and you heard Azriel chuckling.

“Look at her” he exclaimed “so cute” and with that he came and ruffled your hair making you giggle.

Rhysand quickly turned his back on Azriel muttering “mine” for only you to hear.

“Yours” you breathed and hugged him harder.

You spent the whole evening on Rhysand’s lap, peaking your head from his neck only when you wanted to participate in the conversation.

“So, I was thinking about going to Rita’s, it’s been a while since the three of us spent some time together” Cassian spoke and pointed to Azriel and Rhysand. Then his eyes fell on you, and he sighed “If dear y/n decides to stop acting like a baby of course”

You froze, your eyes filled with tears, and you got up, you moved so fast that Rhysand didn’t have time to grab you.

You mumbled “sorry” and ran out, jumping off the balcony and winnowing to the river house.

You slipped into bed and cried. You were so lost in your own trauma that you didn’t think if Rhys was okay with you clinging onto him. You didn’t know how long you stayed like that until your mate’s warmth filled your body and his arms wrapped around you.

“Don’t cry sweetheart, Cassian is an asshole” he murmured in your hair.

“He is right though I’ve been unbearable since you came back” you sniffled.

“No, you haven’t. I’ve been enjoying every second of it so much that I don’t think I will be able to live without you in my arms. Please don’t stop” his voice was breaking.

“But...”

“Shh” he cut you off and you felt the familiar talons caressing the shield around your mind. You let him in, and he planted his last memory there for you to see.

You saw yourself jumping off the balcony and then the gaze turned to Cassian, and a low growl left Rhysand. You felt his fury and the dark power that flowed from him into the room.

“What the fuck was that?” Rhysand yelled and moved closer to Cassian, he grabbed the collar of the general’s shirt and pushed him against the nearby wall. Cassian paled as he watched his brother’s fury.

“Did you even stop to think for a second before this bullshit left your mouth?” Rhysand snarled, his voice lethal and filled with painful promises.

“The female you just offended lost her mate, she had to spend 50 years of her life alone, worrying about her mate’s life… and when she finally got him back, she is considered clingy because she’s afraid of losing him again?” He pushed Cassian harder against the wall. You could feel his hands trembling as he used most of his power to keep himself from punching the warlord.

“Rhys I’m sorry I was just having a rough day, I didn’t mean it” Cassian’s voice was sincere, and you believed him, you knew he loved you and he would do anything to protect you.

“Tomorrow you will come at the river house, and you will apologize to her” Rhysand said and let go of him.

He stepped out of your head and tapped on your shield, you lifted it again and turned to look at him.

“Please don’t stop yearning for my touch.” He whispered.

“I don’t think that I’ll survive without you holding me” you whispered back and rested your forehead against his own.

Requests are open!

[bbyboybucket]

Beds

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: While sharing a hotel room with Reader, Bucky has a nightmare.

A/N: Surprise. Bet y’all didn’t expect a fic from me. How longs it been? Too long. Anyways, I’m rewriting one of my old fics, or more so taking the same concept but doing it more in character. Also I think this is the first time I’ve written something where we don’t see Bucky’s pov, so I think that’s kinda fun. Btw I’m rusty so don’t judge me if it shows. Also I think this is gender neutral but I’m not sure?

Warnings: language, sexual references, nightmares, ptsd, panic attack (not too intense), allusions to some hydra stuff but nothing graphic, hurt/comfort, frenemies to lovers, Bucky is moody, the one bed trope™️, no use of “y/n”, kinda sappy

—————————

A loud sigh came from the left of you just before the elevator dinged and the metal doors creaked open. You ignored him, you chose not to engage in his passive aggressiveness. You weren’t going to accept the invitation of a petty rant hiding behind that sigh.

You walked down the hallway with Bucky stalking behind you, like an angry pitbull trailing after its owner.

“I don’t even know why we got a fucking hotel in the first place.” Bucky grumbled, and you could practically feel the weight of his eye roll, even though you couldn't see it.

“Here we go.” You muttered under your breath. “What did you want? A safe house? It’s not like we’re on some high stakes, undercover op. Anything more than a hotel would be excessive.”

“Anything more woulda had better sleeping options.” He whined. “Coulda at least got us separate rooms.”

“My god, give it a rest Bucky, you’ve been complaining all day about this.” You we’re exasperated, it was about the third time you’d heard him gripe that day.

“Well, I’m not a fan. Us sharing is the stupidest fucking idea Sam’s ever had.”

“Bitching about it isn’t gonna change anything. And, it’s not like we have to sleep together or anything, I’ll be in a whole different bed.” You said, unlocking the room door. You had been looking forward to chilling out and resting, but as soon as you entered the room, you realized that your night would be anything but restful.

“Fuck.” You laughed, humorlessly, knowing you were about to hear an endless rant. “I take that back, there isn’t different beds.”

Surprisingly that rant didn’t come. Bucky weirdly seemed calmer than he had before and merely shrugged. “‘S fine. I’ll take the floor.”

“Well, one of us can try the couch?”

“That thing could fit a toddler at best.” He gestured towards the small leather love seat as if it was the most ridiculous suggestion he had ever heard, and in all honesty, he had a point.

You pinched the skin between your eyebrows. “Sam said he booked a two person room.”

He shrugged again and then blankly said. “This is why he shoulda booked separate rooms.”

“My god Bucky, I’m not that bad of a roommate. I don’t snore, I don’t sleep walk, and it’s not like I’m gonna kill you in your sleep. It’s one fucking night. Just-“ You took a deep breath and tried to mellow out. “You can have the bed.”

“No, you can have it.”

“You’re obviously more tore up about this than me, so it’s yours. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No.” He refused, his eyes held an odd stubbornness. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I literally don’t care, I’ve done it a million times. Plus, your grumpy ass probably needs some good sleep.” You half teased, trying to do the nice thing. You unzipped your bag and pulled your belongings out. “I’m gonna go change clothes.”

When you came back from the bathroom, Bucky was already in his boxers and a T-shirt, positioning a pillow and blanket on the floor.

“I told you the bed was yours.”

“Okay, and?”

“Why are you getting down there?“

“Why the fuck are you arguing?”

“Because you’re all pissy about this whole situation, so I’m trying to make your life easier and give you the bed.” You didn’t understand his defiance and odd aversion to the thing he’d been complaining about restlessly: the better sleeping option.

“I don’t want the goddamn bed, just shut the fuck up about it!” Bucky snapped. His outburst caught you off guard, he acted as if you had been purposefully pushing his buttons.

“Damn, fine.” You held your hands up in defeat, almost offended at the way he lashed out. “I get you’re trying to be all gentlemen-like but ya know, the aggressiveness defeats the purpose.”

“It’s not about being a gentlemen. Don’t get it twisted, I’m not being nice, I-“ He grunted. “Never mind I don’t owe you a fuckin’ explanation. Just get in bed.”

“I will, thank you, cause I’m tired. Especially tired of whatever the fuck is up your ass and has you so bitchy.”

You said it with full sincerity, of course you were used to bickering with Bucky but it always was in a playful manner, even when annoyed with each other, it was always friendly fire. There had been no sign of that all afternoon, Bucky was purely hostile and treating you like his greatest burden.

“You running your damn mouth and arguing isn’t helping anything.” He spat as he turned off the lights.

“Wow, sorry. Didn’t know offering you the bed was so fucking rude and offensive.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He groaned.

You muttered “fucking dick” under your breath.

“I heard that.”

As you settled into the bed, you couldn't help but roll your eyes in frustration. You found yourself pondering what you could have possibly done to provoke such a strong reaction from him. You couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't entirely about you. Maybe something else was going on and you were standing in as Bucky’s punching bag, just being the unfortunate catheter for his anger.

It didn’t matter. You had to force all the worry and aggravation out of your head because his attitude wasn’t worth losing sleep over. The last thing you need was to be exhausted on a mission.

—————————

You were jolted awake by a sudden, loud gasp, followed by a soft groan emanating from his direction. Rubbing your eyes, you opened them to find him sitting upright, his knees drawn close to his chest. He looked so small, a stark contrast to the huge stature and borderline intimidating presence you’d become so familiar with. His breathing was audible despite the distance between you, it was quick and shallow.

“Buck?” You concernedly called out to him but he didn’t answer. You then got out of bed, and flicked on the nightstand lamp.

“Bucky?” You tried again when you were closer.

Out of all the time you’d known Bucky, this was the first you’d seen him vulnerable. He was trembling harshly, hyperventilating too. He seemed equally dazed and terrified, but also distant as if he were lost in his head. You always thought Bucky had rather sad eyes but right now, the way they were widened with fear and slightly watering, took it to a whole new level.

You knew what was happening and seeing it felt like a stab to the heart. You slowly sat down in front of him, keeping space between you as to not worsen his panic.

“Buck, it’s okay.” You cooed. “Can you hear me right now?”

His gaze shifted to you, finally making eye contact, which gave you an answer.

“Okay, can you try to breathe with me? Deep breath…in 1…2…3” You exaggeratedly took large, slow inhale to lead him. “Out 1…2…3…”

You repeated the example, guiding until he finally started to follow along with you. “Good, you’re doing good. Do you know where you are?”

“….hotel. We’re on a mission?”

“Good, that’s right, good. It’s okay. You’re safe.” With a gentle and caring tone, you spoke to him, hoping to bring a sense of peace to the turmoil that was raging within him. Your heart felt heavy as you seen the pain that was laced within him, and you wished so badly that you could erase it all. You’d been scared you weren’t doing the right things, but his increasing improvement made you more confident.

“Can I touch you?”

He nodded.

You supportively placed your hand on top of his, stroking your thumb over his skin in a soothing manner. He initially flinched but didn’t pull away. “Starting to calm down now?”

“Yeah.” He released a long heavy breath and wiped the wetness off his eyelids with his free hand.

You sat silently with him, providing that tender, tactile support as he as he worked to regain his composure and steady his breathing. As he gradually calmed down, you noticed the shame creeping over him, causing his cheeks to flush red and his gaze to avert from yours.

“I didn’t want you to see this shit.” He finally said after minutes of silence.

“It’s fine-“

“Fuckin embarrassing is what it is.”

“No, stuff happens. I’m not gonna judge, ya know? I understand. I know what having panic attacks is like.” You revealed in attempt to make him feel more seen.

He slightly shook his head, at himself instead of towards to you, but he stayed silent.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” He paused for a moment, he licked his lips and hung his head even lower. “‘M used to it. Get ‘em bout every night.”

“The panic attacks?”

“Nightmares. Those sometimes comes after though.”

“Oh.” You whispered, feeling like something in you had just shattered. “About hydra?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna talk about it?” You offered carefully.

“Nothing you should hear. My head’s a fucked up place.” He laughed humorlessly.

“Try me.”

He hesitated for a moment, you assumed he was debating on wether or not he should trust you with such a heavy part of himself. “Basically all memories. Not so much dreams, more so just stuff that’s already happened. Flashbacks I guess.”

As his mouth parted to speak, only to close again, you knew that he wasn’t finished so you waited patiently, allowing him the time he needed to gather his thoughts.

“Most of the time it’s…you know…what I’ve done. People I’ve killed. It’s….of course it’s horrible. Pretty gruesome but uh….I’ve gotten better at dealing with those, it’s still….I just get em so much that I can calm down faster now. But sometimes…it’s the shit Hydra did to me and it’s just….I’d get punished a lot. Some kinda torture or beatings, I’ll spare you the details.”

You continued to stroke his hand and stayed silent, not wanting to push him.

“But uh…they had this chair. Um, I’d get strapped down and they’d electrocute me. That’s how they’d…ya know. And I’d always end up there for a wipe after I fucked up. Or even if I didn’t. I don’t what’s worse honestly…the sick twisted shit they’d come up with or the wipe but…but reliving all that….”

“That’s fucking terrifying.”

“Yeah. Yeah, terrifying is an understatement. Sometimes…it’s hard to feel safe after that.”

His breathing started to pick up again. The cracks in his voice made it clear he was starting to get overwhelmed.

You then firmly grasped his hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. “It’s okay, you don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t like to think about all that. I try to never actually. It’s like…obviously it’s…I can’t describe how fucking awful. But at the same time, if I do think about it, it’s like I’m ignoring all the evil shit I’ve done. And that’s not fair to everyone I’ve wronged. So then….if I never think about or deal with the torture….when I have to relive it in these goddamn nightmares…it just fucks me up worse. And my fucking luck is one of the few times it happens is when I’m sharing a room with someone.”

Your heart sank to the floor, your own eyes were watering at this point from getting just this small glimpse of his pain. “I’m so sorry, Buck. Hell, I don’t even know what to say right now. I wish I could do more to help.”

“You’re doing enough.“

“You didn’t deserve it, ya know? I don’t know everything that went on but you never deserved to suffer like that.”

“Half-debatable. At certain point it had to become karma for the suffering I was causing myself.” He shrugged solemnly.

“That’s not true. You had no control.”

He sighed exasperatedly, filled with a sad frustration directed at himself. He put his face in his palm. “We’ve had that conversation. You already know I don’t see it that way.”

“Yeah but I hope one day you will. And I’ll die before I stop trying to get it through your head that you’re innocent. You know you’re strong, right? So damn strong to be holding it together right now. After going through all that pain and to still be here and be a good man? To come as far as you have. I’ve never met anyone as strong as you.”

“We can agree to disagree but I appreciate it….and thanks sitting with me and calming me down and all that.”

“Of course.”

“I’m sorry about earlier. This is why…I didn’t wanna share. And this is….one…of the reasons I don’t like sleeping in a bed. Makes the nightmares worse sometimes. That’s not your fault though, so I shouldn’t’ve…I just didn’t want you to know.”

“It’s alright. I get it now.”

“I shouldn’t’ve took it out on you. I really am sorry.”

“Buck, I get why you were upset. Well kinda, I honestly can’t imagine even a fraction of what you go through.”

“Goin a little far with the pity.” He grew a tiny smirk.

“Compassion.” You corrected. “And I can’t help it, I mean…not to get all sappy, but I care about you. A lot.”

His smirk morphed into a smile and you mirrored it. You wrapped your arm around him and laid your head on his shoulder, Bucky then slowly encircled you with his own arms. You knew the hug was Bucky's way of wordlessly affirming that he cared about you too.

“Didn’t know Mr. Grumpy was capable of hugging.”

“Consider it a one time gift.”

You chuckled in response but then an idea entered your mind.

“You think it’d help if I slept with you?” You asked softly.

He gave you a cheeky grin. “Could at least take me out to dinner first.”

“You know what I meant.”

He sighed. “Not to be an ass but I literally just told you I don’t like beds?”

“No dumb ass, I mean down here.”

He tilted his head and gave a tight lipped frown. “You don’t gotta do that.”

“No. But if it’d help you feel more comfortable, then I want to.”

He didn’t answer at first but because his face had always been an open book, revealing every emotion with striking transparency, he wore an expression that was etched with heartbreaking gratitude.

“Yeah…we can try that.” He whispered, as if he was in shock.

With gentle movements, you plucked the blanket and pillow from the bed and nestled yourself beside him. As you lay towards him, your faces drew closer, until they were mere inches apart. You could feel his warm breath caressing your skin. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you both gazed into each other's eyes, it was almost hypnotic. There was no awkwardness when it should have been expected, instead, a comforting feeling washed over you. You were consumed by excitement, tinged with a soothing calmness. Sure, it was paradoxical, but it was consuming and left you lost in the moment.

“Um…” Bucky started hesitantly but then cut himself off, he bit his bottom lip nervously.

Before you had a chance to even consider the words, they spilled from your lips. You were surprised with your own spontaneity, but the question had already slipped. “You wanna cuddle?”

It was as if you read his mind, you could practically see all the anxiety melt off Bucky before he pulled you into his chest. “This okay?” He asked.

“Mhm.” You replied, allowing yourself to sink into the comforting warmth of his body, all while listening to the soft thumps of his heart beating. It was a new intimacy that strangely felt familiar and natural, like everything had suddenly fallen into place.

You heard him yawn and you hummed fondly at how cute it was. “Goodnight, Buck.”

Tenderly, he leaned in and softly placed his lips upon your forehead, holding them there for a fleeting moment before settling his chin atop your head.

—————————

Bucky straddled your lap, his hand cupping your face as he devoured you in a passionate kiss that unraveled you with each flick of his tongue. His other hand roamed to less innocent regions of your body, exploring them with a touch that was both bold and tender.

He repositioned and pressed you down onto the couch, towering over you as his tongue continued to dance in your mouth. You were both breathless, and desiring more. He proceeded to plant kisses on your jawline before moving down to nibble on your neck.

He suddenly stopped, muttering against your skin. “You wanna move to your room? Have a little more space for this?”

“You know what’s funny?”

“Hm?”

“How before we got together, you hated beds, but now you want in my sheets every damn second.” You teased.

“Well…feels a lot more pleasant now.”

“Weird way to say ‘I’m always horny’.”

“I’m making up for 80 some years. And like you aren’t, you’re worse than me half the time.”

“Definitely worked up now, so get me to the bed and we’ll go as many rounds as you want, pervert.”

“Fuck you.” He laughed.

“I’m waiting for it.”

[shiny-metal-horses]

Under the Cherry Tree

It was the party’s fifth round of the night when the tavern maid spotted her. Obviously, she’d spotted her when she came in; a 6-and-a-half foot tall orc isn’t really going to slip your eye, even when she’s already sat down, and the party themselves were so boisterous that they were impossible to ignore. But it was always somebody else… One of the humans was always the one handing over coin for the drinks, and it was either them or the dwarf placing the order; Again, it was either him or the dashing swashbuckler-type human who were telling the stories of their escapades. Despite being physically the largest of all her group, the Orc seemed to be trying to take up as little space as possible.

That just wouldn’t do; happy customers were returning customers, so it was the maid’s job to make sure everybody came out of their shell. That was certainly why she got closer throughout the night… why she’d sneak glances across at the warrior, every time she took their orders… why she’d make sure to lean over, her arm brushing against the orc’s muscles… it certainly wasn’t anything to do with the hungry look she’d get back whenever the orc noticed her, or the way her heat rate picked up whenever she saw a tusk poke out in her smile… no, it couldn’t be that.

As the night drew on, and the party grew more drunk, the warrior seemed more open, more at ease with her friends. The maiden couldn’t help but smile seeing the green-skinned beauty laugh along with the jokes, or finally interject with her own contributions to the party’s tales of danger and adventure.

As the patrons slowly started to file out, it seemed as though the adventurers realised that they hadn’t sorted board for the night; one of them, seemingly the studious sort, came up to the bar, asking to rent 5 rooms. There were only had 2 left; they each paired up, and requested that the Orc be allowed to sleep in the stables. The tavern-keeper agreed, even if he also found it quite unfair that they’d force their compatriot to sleep outside; the three humans and the dwarf filed upstairs, while the warrior picked up her kit and bedroll, and moved outside.

After finishing her cleaning for the evening, the maiden decided to stop off by the stables, checking on the orc; she even brought a blanket, for something soft to lay on. When the maiden reached the stables, she found that the orc was curled up in the hay, evidently still struggling to get comfortable. Even with her eyes closed, she spoke out; “It’s rude to stare. We paid, miss… I’d request you not treat me like an exhibit to be gawked at.”

the maid entered the paddock, carefully closing the gate behind her. “Forgive me, ma’am; it was not my intention to stare. I simply bring a gift; something to rest your head upon.” as she hands over the blanket, their fingers brush against each other, causing the maiden to shiver. “It should be softer than the stone beneath you, I hope.”

the orc lets out a growl, before offering a simple “Thank you, miss,” and turning over again. The maiden stands there, watching for another few moments as the warrior’s side rises and falls with her breath, before speaking again.

“We normally do not offer them to visitors, Ma’am, but… there is one more room available. If you’d like to come inside, it would be warmer and softer still, I assure you.”

there’s a grunt from the orc, before she answers. “That.. that would be nice, Miss. But, please, turn around… I’m not decent at the moment.”

she does as asked, turning around, hoping to hide the creeping blush before she has to turn back. When she does, the Orc is stood, but with the bedroll wrapped around herself, and her armour draped over one arm; clearly, she had disrobed before getting into bed. With the bedroll turned to wrap around her body, it barely kept her decent; the maiden could see the green flesh of her bosom, and most of her muscular thighs, as well. Rather than hoping the blush would fade, she could only pray that the darkness would disguise it.

“Thank you, ma’am. Please, follow me.” The maiden turns around on her heel, quickly, before leading the warrior back inside, and behind one of the staff doors, into one of the staff quarters. Looking around, the orc notices quite a bit of decoration; carved wooden toys, clothes besides work uniforms. “Are you sure these rooms are spare, Miss?” she asks, unsure that she’s supposed to be here.

“Of course, Ma’am,” comes the reply. “Well, not strictly spare… these are my quarters, Ma’am. I couldn’t let you sleep out in the stables all night.”

The orc freezes, and turns towards the door. “I’m terribly sorry for intruding, miss… I shouldn’t be in here. I couldn’t possibly take your room from you-”

“And as I said, I couldn’t possibly let you sleep in the stables.” The maiden interrupts her, surprising them both. The orc is about as used to being interrupted as the maid is to interrupting others. Taking a brief pause, she continues. “If you insist on me not giving up my bed, then very well. But in that case, I have to insist that… that you join me in it.” Her blush rises again, but now she hopes that the dim lamplight will hide it, and that the offer will come across as strictly non-romantic. “You… you wouldn’t refuse the generosity of an innocent maiden, would you?”

The orc pauses for a second more, before nodding. “Of course, my lady; it would be incredibly rude to do so.” She walks over to the bed and, without warning, releases the bedroll, exposing her back to the maiden. She quickly turns away, although the green figure - cheeks and thighs, and rippling back muscles - are stored forever in her mind; moments later, when she turns back, her guest is fully under the bedsheet, covered once more. Sensing her apprehension, the warrior speaks once more. “I’m sorry for my indecency, my lady; I’m still used to sleeping bare under the desert sun, so I’m struggling to grow accustomed to the weather of the plains.”

The tavern maid nods, as she grabs her nightgown from the wardrobe. “Do not fret, ma’am; it is nothing I have not seen before.” She walks over to the corner, and begins to slowly take off her dress, and change into her nightgown. She knows she can change faster than this, but for some reason, her body forces her to take her time, to make sure the warrior in her bed has enough time to peek over and get an eyeful.

When she has changed, she places her dress on a chair on the side, and quickly picks up the orc’s armour to place it beside her own clothes. She can’t help but catch the scent of the warrior’s musk on the leather, but sets it down before she has to question what effect the smell has on her.

With her quarters tidied, she slides herself into bed next to the Orc. Even as they try not to touch each other, she can feel the musculature press against her, and it only excites her further. Having such a source of temptation next to her… she can tell it’s going to be a long night.

[skyward-floored]

Hello! Tis me, the one that keeps showing up when you say you don't have ideas for DIAU. I love au^3s. I particularly love this one! Mmmmm angst. Hyrule angst is one of my favorites, so hehe on that.

If you're perhaps looking for a prompt—maybe because Hyrule healed Time that once, does he recognize the picture in the house when he finally escapes?

(...hmmm, Hyrule did escape. Are they looking for him? How hard does he have to hide? Could he go to the store with Malon sometime for groceries? Or out to a park? How badly socialized IS he?)

You know... I think he does recognize it. Maybe not literally the moment he arrives, but...

...

Sunlight warming his face was what woke Wind from his deep slumber, his eyes sticky as he dragged them open.

He laid there in his borrowed bed for several minutes, listening to birdsong outside his window as he slowly woke up. His arm felt a little sore when he shifted it for some reason, why...

The events from the night before suddenly flooded back, and Wind shot upwards, head spinning a little from the abrupt movement.

Right.

Last night they’d rescued Hyrule.

Or... Link, still. He didn’t have a nickname here yet.

Wind quickly rubbed his eyes and slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Four in the bed beside him. His brother was drooling a little onto his pillow, hair a frizzy halo around his head, and Wind smiled, then fixed his blankets from where they’d fallen loose. Four had gone a little overboard with his powers yesterday, and was obviously still sleeping them off.

A prickle of worry stuck to Wind’s stomach as he remembered that the bad guys knew about Four’s powers now, but he ignored it, and went up from the basement they were sleeping in. All they knew was that there was an unregistered super out there. Four had had a mask on, so they didn’t know who he was.

Yet, a traitorous voice whispered in his head.

Wind shook himself and kept going up the stairs, hoping to find both something for breakfast, and someone to talk to. Nobody but Wind and Four had been seen when they’d helped Hyrule get out, but Malon had admitted their house wasn’t the safest place Hyrule could be. This was only a temporary hiding spot for now, and Wind wanted to know what they were planning.

Wind sighed, and walked into the kitchen just in time to watch Malon stick some bread in the toaster.

“Hey there Wind, good morning,” she said with a smile, though Wind couldn’t help noticing the dark circles under her eyes. “Is Four still sleeping?”

“Yeah, I think he will be for a while,” Wind said, sitting down at the table. “He was really tired after yesterday. Where’s everyone else?”

“Legend and Twi are talking upstairs. I think they’re going to try and contact Sky later today, see if he has any thoughts about everything, but their breaks are going to be over soon,” she explained, pulling some jam out of the fridge. “They’re figuring out timing.”

“And Hyrule?” Wind asked, then caught himself. “Uh, I mean Link?”

Malon’s face did something strange at the name, but then it went back to how it had been. “He’s been awake for a while, I think he’s looking around the house. Actually, would you mind telling him there’s breakfast available?“

Wind nodded, and hopped back out of his seat, snagging a glass of milk before he went into the living room.

He’d been prepared to be searching for a while, but Hyrule was standing only a few feet away in the middle of the room, looking at the pictures on the mantle that had caught Four’s attention when they’d first gotten here too.

Hyrule looked like he was staring at the picture of Time, and Wind quietly moved to his side, raising an eyebrow when he noticed the look on his face. He seemed to be studying the picture awfully intently.

“Um... good morning,” he said, and Hyrule flicked an ear at him in response, leaning even closer towards the picture. “Is... everything okay?” Wind asked again when Hyrule didn’t say anything, the other boy still just staring at the picture, his eyes wide.

“Who is this?” he asked after a long moment.

Wind glanced behind him, making sure Twilight and Legend weren’t about to run into the room or anything, then sighed.

“That’s... Time. He... he was Twilight and Legend’s dad,” Wind explained in a soft voice. “He’s alive in me and Four’s world, but here, he... apparently he was killed a couple of years ago. I don’t remember exactly how long.”

Hyrule’s brow scrunched up, and he looked over at Wind, a weird look in his eyes.

“You’re sure?” he asked, and Wind nodded, a bit weirded out. Why was Hyrule so interested in this?

“I’m sure. It’s been at least three years, I know that. I don’t know how he died though, I just know he... did.”

Hyrule’s face scrunched even further, and he looked back at the picture, reaching out and thumbing a bit of dust off the corner.

“But that’s impossible,” he whispered. “I’ve met him since then.”

Wind almost dropped the cup he was holding.

“What?!”

“I met him once, I... had to heal him,” Hyrule explained quietly. “And time was hard to keep track of in there, but... it’s been less than three years, I know that. I definitely talked to the man in this picture, he was alive.”

Wind stared, stunned into complete silence, and Hyrule looked suddenly awkward.

“Sorry, is... is it a bad subject?” he said hesitantly.

“No, I mean, yes, but— how could he be alive?” Wind breathed.

They’re all so sure of him being dead, how could they be wrong about something like that? They’re still grieving, Malon nearly cried when we told her our Time was still alive, there’s no way any of them think he’s alive here, so how...

How is this possible?

Wind turned to look at Hyrule, and met his green-brown gaze.

“I need to know everything you remember about healing him,” he said seriously, not letting the hope trying to build in his chest get too strong. It could be a coincidence, or maybe one of them had the dates wrong. He couldn’t get too hopeful yet. “If... you don’t mind?”

Hyrule nodded. “I don’t know how helpful any of it will be, but I can tell you what I remember. If... if he’s out there somewhere, I want to help him,” he finished quietly.

“Okay,” Wind agreed, head still spinning with the possible implications of this. Could Dad really be alive here?

Another thought hit him though, and he gave Hyrule a hesitant look.

“...Can you not tell anyone else about this yet?”

“What? Why not? Don’t you want them to know there’s a chance their dad might be alive?” Hyrule asked in confusion.

Wind winced. Well when you put it like that... “I do, trust me, but if... if this ends up being a dead end, I don’t want them to get their hopes up for nothing.”

I don’t want to cause them more grief.

Hyrule let out a soft oh, then nodded, looking away from Wind and back at the picture.

“I guess that makes sense. I’ll do my best to not say anything. But I won’t lie to them,” he said quietly, and Wind looked at the picture as well.

Time faintly smiled back at them both, face eternally frozen in a warm expression.

“He wouldn’t want you to,” Wind replied just as softly. “Thanks, Link.”

Hyrule nodded, and Wind gave him a small smile as footsteps came from the direction of the stairs. Hyrule tilted his head, and Wind nodded at the unspoken question. We’ll talk about it later.

Twilight and Legend came into the living room, somewhat intense looks on their faces, but both of them softened when they saw Wind and Hyrule standing together.

“Hey Wind, Link. You guys sleep okay?” Twilight asked, and they both nodded, Wind taking a sip of his milk.

“Let’s go get breakfast,” Wind said as he lowered his glass, a whiff of toast drifting past his nose. “I’m starved, and your Mom said she had some fresh strawberry jam.”

“Really? Yes, I wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get more,” Legend said with a small fist pump.

Hyrule’s stomach growled, and Wind grinned at him, even as he blushed at the noise. Twilight chuckled, and he headed into the kitchen, Hyrule and Wind following.

Wind paused in the doorway when he realized Legend hadn’t followed them though, and he looked back, swallowing as he saw Legend standing at the mantelpiece, looking at the picture of his father.

Legend looked back at him, and quickly smoothed his expression, brushing past Wind to head into the kitchen. But Wind had seen the brief flash of grief that had crossed his face, intense and deep.

And it was then that he promised himself he’d do everything he could to find out what had happened to Time.

[emmyrosee]

hiya emmy :D i was reading ur dad aus, and i thought ‘what if emmy wrote older sibling aus?’ and i wanted to request one :) somehow im a complete softie for ur bakugou, so i wanted to request an older brother bakugou who ten years older than his lil sis, and she absolutely adores him. i think shed be like ‘katsu-nī’ all the time, and be around five? six? when he gets into UA. idk why but im imagining him calling her ‘kid’ or ‘brat(in a nice way, u know?)’ and when hes rlly soft, maybe ‘sweetheart’ when she has nightmares? and maybe when he gets captured, shes so scared that she cant sleep well, and after he comes back, she begs to sleep with him, and mama mitsuki finds her kids sleeping together during the night, with bakugous lil sis clinging to him like her life depends on it and bakugou having an arm around her. and maybe when she was younger, shed enter bakugous room randomly, and sit on his lap while he does hw or study? and shed have all kinds of nicknames for his friends, for instance, she likes to call midoriya ‘zuku-nī’ and kirishima ‘aka-nī’ cuz he had red hair and calls the rest of them by their first names and ‘san’ at the end :) thx for listening to my rant and i hope ur having a good day, and u stay healthy :)

-sky :D

WAIT NO THIS IS ACTUALLY LIKE. REALLY REALLY CUTE-

Because like. Yeah, the last thing the boy needs in his life is a new sibling, he needs that like he needs a UTI.

But then she comes along and he’s like… like he’s obsessed with her.

He tries to hide it under indifference, he doesn’t really care that there’s gonna be a new, tiny presence in his home, he’s got enough to take care of.

That is, until Bakugou Kaida comes into this world.

Until the smallest, sweetest bundle of pink blankets is passed into his arms and it’s then and only then he realizes that he’s doomed, because this kid was going to absolutely have him wrapped around her finger, and come hell or high water, he’d keep her the happiest little brat to walk the face of the earth.

And he is sure to have her grow up with that knowledge.

One time, when she was three, someone pushed her on the playground, and Katsuki nearly punted a four year old- he, instead, told her how to push back (which wasn’t appreciated by his parents) and stand her ground.

However, said ‘happiest brat mantra,’ she knows exactly how to make it curve him for her benefit.

When he’s left to babysit her, she flashes him her biggest set of puppy eyes to make him play with her; his parents have come home god knows how many times to him with a table cloth draped over his back, playing Horsies- she does it more when Midoriya is the horse, because he can’t say no to her either, but anytime she says “Zuku-ni would do it” to Katsuki, he immediately drops on his hands and knees with a snarl on his mouth. Like hell he’s gonna let Midoriya win her heart like that.

And listen, the kid is cute, and she’s got that classic Bakugou charm. She knows how to work it! But Katsuki can’t help the absolute rage down his spine when she’s got her tiny arms curled around Kirishima’s thick neck and they tease him about when they’re gonna get married because yeah, of course, she wants to marry his friends, because why can’t she be disgusted by them like he is?

(”Yeah, bakubro, you’re cool being my best man for it, right?”

“I’d rather skin you alive and drape you over my banister before I let you come near her with a ring pop, do not test me-”)

But obviously, no matter what, for Kaida’s happiness, Katsuki is willing to move boulders, move mountains, part seas, and swallow the stars if it meant she would smile for him.

So, when he gets taken by the LOV, it’s wild how much Kaida deflates. Mitsuki catches her, more times than not, curled up on his bed to sleep for her nap, and at nighttime, she stares longingly outside of her window to wait for him. They try to be gentle and explain that he’ll be back soon, but she doesn’t believe them, she wants to see it with her own eyes.

They put her back to bed, but she’s up a few hours later, perched at her window and whimpering softly. They try to keep her in their bed, but all she does is ask questions about Katsuki until the early hours of the morning, things they don’t always know the answer to.

Those were the longest days of her little life, and when they finally get the call that he’s alright, he’s alive, it’s an extremely tearful reunion. And Katsuki, the hellion and wall of impenetrable rage, screws his eyes shut to fight the stabbing of tears that want to fall into her hair.

Kaida absolutely refuses to let him out of her sight after that.

The entire time they’re talking to the school, her big, crimson eyes are blinking up at him, tiny fingers curled in his shirt collar. Completely unfazed by the snapping between her parents and brother, she just. Stares. She doesn’t smile, she doesn’t frown, she doesn’t pout. It’s just a simple, blank face with all her emotions and relief in her eyes.

Even after the whole ordeal, there’s a part of Kaida that treasures Katsuki (somehow) even more. Anytime he’s home, she’s clinging to him, be it physically by dangling to his back and legs, or simply being in the same room with him: next to him at the dinner table, sleeping on his bed while he’s at his desk, playing with his fingers while he watches tv.

He’d be annoyed by it if she wasn’t so cute.

If he didn’t miss her almost as much as she missed him.

It’s different when he’s away at school and can call her whenever he wants; he hates how much he loves the little snot.

Even now, curled into his side and sucking her thumb while they watch TV, Katsuki knows that if he gets up to merely pee, she’s gonna follow him and sit on the outside of the door, talking to him under the door. (The first time Deku saw that in action, he cooed audibly, and Katsuki nearly ran out of the can with his pants undone to blow him to shit.) and he’d never be able to complain about it.

Sometimes, he can’t help but putting off whatever it is he needs to do, to keep her comfy.

It’s what big brothers do.

“Katsu-ni?” She hums around her thumb. Big eyes look up at him, and he scratched her hair gently.

“What’s up?”

She pauses, as if trying to find the words, her tiny brows furrowed in thought. Then, she speaks, words warbled from the digit in her mouth.

“You think mumma gon’ notice if I go back ta’ school wiff you? In your back-packie?”

He snorts and tightens his arm around her, burrowing his face in her hair to hide the sound. She squeals and bats him away affectionately, completely crawling in his lap when she deems he’s too far from her.

“I think she might, stink.”

Kaida pouts and thunks her head against his chest, the fingers of her free hand fisting his collar. “Do ya have to go…?”

“You know I do,” he grumbles, hooking a lock of hair behind her ear, once again burying his face in her hair. The only noise for a moment comes from the TV, and he focuses on the rhythmic breathing from his little brat.

“You don’t have to think about that for a few more days,” he says, planting a kiss to her head and choosing to fight the way his eyes water when she sniffles softly. “You can use me as a jungle gym for a few more days.”

This, has her giggling, and he angles his head up at the ceiling because this is always the hardest part about being home, especially since he was kidnapped.

“I don’t like when you leave, Katsu-ni,” she mumbles.

“I know, baby.”

“Make me miss you…”

“I know- you know I miss you too.”

“Wish you didn’t have to keep goin’ ‘way…”

He swallows again.

“I know.”

[grapenehifics]

I’m very curious to know if you have a headcanon about whether Anakin wears a sleep shirt? He’s shirtless in both AOTC and ROTS. Is this because he overheats at night? What does Obi-Wan think about this?

Tits out, guns out.

Longer (real?) answer below the cut...

First of all, thank you for this ask; this kept my brain very pleasantly occupied on my commute to work today.

In An Uncivil War, I put Anakin in clone-issue under-armor to sleep in - which involved a whole separate headcanon, about what they wear, which is more likely probably both black leggings and a black turtleneck but I added a sleeveless black undershirt to that combo so that Anakin could wear a black tank top because this is my fic and I want to see some arms damnit - mostly to get him into something black and obviously non-Jedi issue but also because he and Obi-Wan are sharing a room with Ahsoka for all of that fic so while I think he'd be perfectly happy to go shirtless around Obi-Wan he also recognizes that they're in a war and anything could happen and he would not have the luxury of being able to get up slowly and put a robe on or anything before needing to hurry to the bridge to deal with an explosion or a Separatist attack, so during the war he might forgo the whole sleeping-naked thing at least while on duty.

I think of Obi-Wan - at least pre-war Obi-Wan - as a pajamas person, like the whole nine-yards matching-set sort of deal, and so little Anakin would think that is normal/Jedi appropriate/wants to emulate his Master, so when Obi-Wan gets him child pajamas he wears them. But I also see Anakin as deeply texture sensitive - and prone to nightmares, which make him sweaty, and unused to regulating his body temperature in a way that makes sense for non-desert planets - so he'd actually really struggle with wearing all that baggy fabric and blankets to bed, and the fabric gets bunched up underneath him, and now he's lying on top of wrinkles, and if he gets sweaty then the whole thing is damp and soggy and uncomfortable...so he takes at least the top off, and that feels better, but Obi-Wan never does, so Anakin gets yet another (subtle, unspoken) impression that he's doing 'being a Jedi' wrong.

(And honestly so long as Anakin's not completely naked, I don't think Obi-Wan actually cares if he's only wearing pants, especially in his own room; this is not something Obi-Wan actually chastised Anakin for; it's all in Anakin's head that he's being judged.)

In the AotC deleted scene, we see Anakin sleeping in his clothes:

so either Obi-Wan didn't pack any pajamas for him (potential future headcanon discussion: how old is Anakin before Obi-Wan finally stops packing his suitcase for him) or Anakin took the whole 'travel as refugees' thing to heart and decided that refugees don't get pajamas, and really he's just staying in character. The next time we see him asleep, he's at the Naberrie family vacation villa:

There's our topless boy! Is he wearing pajama pants under there? Difficult to say for sure but I'm leaning toward yes, both because of his generally awkward nature and the fact that he's trained to jump into action at any moment in case of danger.

By the time he's gone outside to meditate he's put a shirt on, unfortunately:

Is this a pajama top, or just his regular tunic? If it is his regular tunic, why is it XXL? That is not where shoulder seams generally go. Does Obi-Wan think he's still growing and is tired of replacing his shirts every six months so he's still doing the, 'it's too big now but you'll grow into it' thing?

In any case, why are Jedi so into beige; I know we (rightly) make fun of teen Ahsoka's tube top but at least the girl has an appreciation for color.

So far, though, I'm going with, Anakin will sleep in pants, at least while at other peoples' houses, but prefers not to wear a shirt. I would imagine this would probably hold while he's with the 501st, too, that he needs to be ready to spring into action at any moment but who cares if his troops see his bare chest (and, again, maybe this is just me, but this is where I see him slowly adapting to wearing more of what the clones wear, just because there's so much of it, and yes they're shorter than he is so the leggings only come up to his calves but this is would not be a dealbreaker for him).

In RotS, I have to assume that we're meant to assume Anakin is buck-ass naked under the covers here and the only reason he's wearing pajama pants here:

is because this is a PG-13 movie. I mean, he's off-duty and in bed with his wife. Yes I know she has her hair done and is wearing a silk nightgown with pearl sleeves (??) but, again, kids movie. Why on earth would Anakin be sleeping in pants otherwise.

Around Obi-Wan, though, before they get together: pants on, shirt off. (He's trying to flirt with the man, after all.) After they get together: clothes just get in the way. Anakin expects this of Obi-Wan, too, and looks so hurt the first time Obi-Wan tries to put his pajamas back on after sex that Obi-Wan course-corrects and gets into bed naked. "If you're cold, I'll warm you up, Master," and Obi-Wan doesn't have the heart to say no (also, Anakin is very warm). They have pajamas, but they're for, like, morning and evening lounge wear (and Anakin's still does not involve a shirt).

Obi-Wan does, however (eventually, slowly) manage to teach Anakin the fun of taking your partner's clothes off slowly, piece-by-piece, as opposed to popping buttons and ripping them off as fast as he can. This is both fun and has the added benefit of extending the life of Obi-Wan's wardrobe and keeping him from needing to break out his sewing kit quite so often (Anakin still leaves them piled on the floor though).

Throwing it back to you, @underacalicosky and anyone else who wants to play :) Agree? Disagree?

[montrealmadison]

congrats on hitting 400 followers and thank you for including us in the celebration! um ... I'm choosing zimbits and number 42 and as for general special requests, I would never say no to some hurt/comfort? (I think you have a good sense of the vibes I gravitate toward but you always do that particular trope so well.)

-doggernaut

my darling, i love writing hurt/comfort for you and you really could not have picked a better song. anything for you beyoncé!!

42. zimbits + hurt/comfort + All Night by Beyoncé for @doggernaut

I found the truth beneath your lies And true love never has to hide I’ll trade your broken wings for mine I’ve seen your scars and kissed your crime

Half-awake, the first thing out of Bitty’s mouth is, “We have gotta stop meeting like this.”

Jack’s answering laugh is wrong, comes from too high up. There’s light pouring in through the windows when Bitty blinks—weird, he could have sworn he closed the blinds last night—and when he rolls over, expecting to meet Jack’s face on the opposite pillow, he finds his hip instead.

Bitty’s head hurts, which could really be from anything: lack of sleep, unshed tears, the anticipation of a hangover. “Honey?”

Jack looks down and down at him. From this angle he’s a giant, all sharpness, features starkly out of sync with the glorious summer sunrise. “Morning.”

“Mmph.” The sheets are warm on Bitty’s bare back as he rolls over, yawning. “How long you been awake?”

The fact that Jack doesn't say anything is what finally shocks Bitty back to life.

read more below or on ao3 | request a fic here

This summer has mostly been a dream, because not only does Bitty love living with Jack, he also loves that they're good at it. It's addictive to know that they're compatible this way too, makes the thought of the two of them as partners feel settled and real. He likes the way they work together in the kitchen. He likes the way Jack’s voice carries when he sings in the shower; likes knowing that Jack sings in the shower, period, Patsy Cline and Bob Dylan and once, memorably, Carrie Underwood. He likes snuggling up to watch a movie on the couch and dozing off with Jack’s hands in his hair. Most of all, he likes sharing their bed—sleeps so much better with Jack’s big, warm body beside his. 

There are trade-offs to that, like the fact that he hasn’t spoken to his parents in two weeks. And the fact that he was barely able to enjoy their bed last night because he was pacing the living room rather than disturbing Jack's attempts at meaningful rest. And the fact that Jack is currently watching himself miss the same shot over and over and over again, breathing just this side of too heavy for Bitty’s liking.

It’s five-thirty in the morning on a day that might make or break them, and Bitty’s had enough.

"Jack," he says, some heft in it now. "How long?"

Jack scrubs his hands over his face, glances out the windows and then at the time on his phone. He’s obviously a little surprised to see the sun rising. “Since you went to bed.”

Bitty had finally crawled under the covers to a half-awake and very worried Jack at 2:15. The fact that he'd apparently slept right through Jack's ensuing three-hour self-flagellation session doesn't sit right in his chest at all.

“Okay—uh, okay." He frees a hand from the blankets with exaggerated care and sets it lightly on the top of Jack’s screen. "Well, first things first, sweetpea, this isn’t useful, it’s torture," he says. "Can I?”

He's expecting pushback, but apparently that's all he had to say to break the dam and make the tension drain from Jack’s shoulders. He nods, slow and unwilling. None of that, Bitty thinks. He shuts the laptop firmly, gets up on his elbow, ducks under Jack’s arm to nudge him softly in the ribs.

“Why don't you come down here,” he says, trying to keep his tone light. “You’re real tall up there.”

Jack’s answering laugh sounds brittle, but he does curl down into Bitty's arms. Add that to the ever-growing list of things Bitty's been surprised by: Jack Zimmermann is the little spoon. Bitty pulls him in, watches the sun start to track above the buildings, and thinks about things that are unfair.

The road to hell is paved with a solid game plan. From the minute the Falcs made the conference finals, Jack has been in regular touch with George and the med staff. He's been seeing his therapist weekly. He's been talking to Bitty and his parents, and when they've lost he's been sad, but he hasn't withdrawn the way Bitty might have expected him to.

They've gone through so much together, all of it leading them here. They've negotiated sex and coming out to their friends and fought about who gets to pay for things. There's trust between them in a way that Bitty has never felt before. He'd felt so adult, keeping a secret as big as Jack Zimmermann to himself all school year; now Bitty has a much better sense of the commitment he signed up for. He's had to learn how to talk through a panic attack and which secrets are okay to keep and, most of all, what real love is: all-consuming, disgusting and vulnerable, terrifying in its intensity, and always, always worth it.

“We’re so close,” says Jack unprompted, muffled because he’s speaking into Bitty's collarbone. “I—Bits. We’re so close."

“You are."

It sounds so simple, but Bitty knows it’s not—knows how much is riding on this game, for Jack and for the Falcs and for so many others. He wants to be able to swallow Jack whole, to carve out a warm place inside him and keep Jack safe in it forever. It would be easier than trying to come up with the right thing to say to make this better.

"What if this is it?"

Jack's voice is tiny and terrified. Bitty feels like someone's reached into his chest and cracked his heart open with both hands.

"Say more," he prompts gently. "The end of the series?"

"The—just." Jack breathes out hard. "This is it. If we lose, it's all over. Everyone was right about me. Right?"

Oh, honey. "Jack," Bitty says. "No."

He can't say he doesn't understand the temptation to think that way. Tonight is everything Jack's been working towards for twenty-five years. Tonight's results will be writ large over Jack's entire career. But—

"Tell me if I'm hearing this right?"

Jack squeezes him tighter. "Okay."

"It's going to be the end of something, one way or another." Bitty threads his hands through Jack’s hair and gently works the tangles out of it, the way Jack’s done for him so many times. "And I know that's scary. But it's not the end." 

There's going to be another game, ten games, eighty-two. The people who love Jack, love them both, aren't going anywhere. Once, Bitty believed that the force of his own will had to be enough to convince Jack of its righteousness. Now—well, Jack breathes, pushes up hungrily into Bitty's hands, and Bitty knows that sometimes love means a blind leap into someone else's hands, trusting them to be there when you fall.

"Is that what feels bad right now? That they're gonna—take it all away from you, if tonight doesn't go well?"

Another long breath. Jack's voice is low, low. "Doesn't make as much sense when you say it out loud."

"Well." Bitty shrugs. "That's anxiety, baby."

Jack grunts. "Sucks."

"Yeah," Bitty says, and suddenly they're laughing, all shaken up and nowhere to go. The tension's broken, though, and the line of Jack's shoulders doesn't feel as hard under Bitty's hands, so he allows himself to feel very tentatively pleased.

“No matter what,” he starts to say, and Jack stills again, listening. “No matter what, we are going to be there for you. Your team and your parents and all our friends and me, baby. We’re not going anywhere no matter what happens tonight.”

Bitty's not sure if he's satisfied with that, but Jack murmurs something that sounds like thanks, so. He'll take it for now. 

When the sun has risen too far for them to ignore, Bitty coaxes Jack into the shower and spends a good twenty minutes puttering around the kitchen, meticulously assembling the best pregame PB&J ever concocted by man. It grounds him a little, helps him sink back into his body; things here are still real, are familiar in a way that means something. When Jack emerges from the bedroom around ten, suited up with a game face to match, Bitty's smile takes less effort than before.

“Hey, handsome.” He steps away from the counter and into the warm, willing circle of Jack’s arms. It's glorious when Jack smells expensive like this, new linen and Armani cologne, and Bitty breathes him in appreciatively.

“Hi,” Jack says, quiet but not as brittle as before. “What do you think? You like it?”

“The day I answer no to that question is the day I am dead in the ground.” Bitty twirls the end of Jack’s tie around one finger. “How you feelin’?”

Jack’s breath ruffles Bitty’s hair when he leans down to tuck his nose into it. “Still scared,” he says. “But, uh, good, I think. I don't know. Better than this morning? Thanks for getting me out of my head.”

For the first time, Bitty lets himself imagine what tonight might bring. The fridge is stocked with enough ingredients for at least twelve mourning pies and enough pasta to feed a small army of sad friends; coming home to that is a definite possibility, the only one Bitty has really let himself focus on. But there's a sparkling alternative, dripping in champagne and smothered in laughter, that Bitty knows for a fact Ransom has already made the playlist for. There's a world in which this all goes right. They just have to be brave enough to make it there.

“Things can be scary and good at the same time,” Bitty says into the perfect knot of Jack's tie.

He feels Jack smile; a tiny, hopeful thing. “You’re telling me.”