#only for him to be awake and on the verge of pulling me into a messy tearful kiss akskfkfkf

[rafecameroninterlude]

Omg, idea! It can be with Pouge!Sweetheart and Rafe are having sex, and he is choking her (she likes it) but this time she is about to pass out and Rafe is too primal/into the sex to understand that she is trying to tap out and does not hear her. She passes out mid sex, going limp and Rafe absolutely panics trying to wake her up. A bit of a soft Rafe who then is overly attentive feeling so bad.

warnings: unprotected sex, rough sex, asphyxiation, choking, slight praise, dirty talk, loss of consciousness

a/n: poor pogue!sweetheart!reader omg. she’s been punched in the face on accident and now this?? I’m begging y’all to give her a break!

“rafe!” you practically screamed, your hands wrapping around the wrist he had at the column of your throat. while rafe had never been this rough before, he was hesitant as you begged him not to go soft on you. now you found yourself nothing but a whimpering mess, heavy tears rolling down your cheeks as he had you pinned to your bed by the back of your knees. “this is what you wanted? ‘wanted me to choke you while i use this pussy?” you took your bottom lip between your teeth, your head pounding as your vision grew fuzzy.

nodding weakly, rafe’s grip on your neck tightened, his head falling as your velvety walls squeezed around him in a way that made him lose his mind. “so fucking wet, all for me..” he pressed a kiss to your ankle, rolling his hips to meet your clit with each thrust. before you could decipher what was happening, you mumbled a ‘too much’, tapping on his hand as he groaned, leaning down to bury his head in the valley of your breasts. you gasped before black spots began dotting your vision, your eyes fluttering closed as you lost consciousness.

“fuck, these tits are so fucking perfect.” he took a sensitive bud in his mouth, his gaze flickering at your face only to see your head lolled to the side, your lips glossy and swollen. “baby?” it was just then that he realized your entire body was limp, his thrusts slowing down. “y/n?” he grabbed your face, tapping your cheek lightly. panic set in at your lack of response, his eyes widening as he removed his hand from your neck. “oh, fuck!” he pulled out, rushing to pull his boxers on before he scooped you up in his arms.

he continued to lightly slap your cheek, blowing air on your face as he shook you. “come on, baby, you gotta wake up..” his heart was pounding out of his chest as you didn’t budge, his eyebrows drawing together as he got up, running to the small kitchen where he got a damp towel. dabbing your face with the cool cloth, he shook with every second you didn’t stir awake. “fuck!” he whispered, swallowing thickly as regret settled in the pit of his stomach. he knew he shouldn’t have done that much.

rafe kept up his ministrations for a few more minutes before he shook his head, his fists meeting his cheeks before he dialed 911. “911 what’s your emergency?” rafe let out a shaky breath, muttering a ‘uh, m-me and my girlfriend were-’ right before you opened your eyes, blinking up at the ceiling as you moaned. “ray?” you were more confused than anything, your boyfriend hanging up on the operator before he ran to your side. “oh my god.” he sighed, moving your hair off of your shoulder as he covered you with your duvet.

“i was tapping out..” your eyes sparkled up at rafe. he was on the verge of tears, shaking his head as he embraced you. “i didn’t hear you, baby. i’m so fucking sorry.” he pecked your lips, stroking your face as you ran a hand up and down his arm to soothe him. “i don’t know what happened, i was just really into it, i didn’t realize how hard i was squeezing you. i’m so sorry.” he apologized again. coughing softly, you sat up, pulling him onto the bed so he could hold you. “just hold me.” you kissed his cheek, both of you falling asleep shortly after.

the next day, rafe made it his life’s mission to make everything up to you. surprising you with your favorite breakfast, bathing you and putting you in some comfortable clothes, massaging your feet, eating you out until you cried, ordering your carts on all your shopping apps, and showering you with kisses until the sun went down.

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - request: angst 2/3 - tw trauma

"How bad?"

You're trying to keep pace with Kyle, who's clocking a break neck speed at your side, mind still reeling, trying to turn everything over, make sense of it all, Orion heavy in your arms, nearly asleep again after you pulled him from his dreams to bring him with you... here.

To the hospital.

Kyle says your name. He says it softly, kindly, and there's sadness in his eyes. "He's tough, he's never not made it through... but he did go to surgery when we landed." Oh god. Your stomach roils.

"Mrs. Riley?" You blink. Nothing in this moment feels real, not the white hallway, the antiseptic smell, the hustle and bustle flowing around you like a rock in a river. The woman in scrubs smiles kindly, and you try to focus on her teeth. Straight. Perfect. "Would you like to see your husband?"

"Yeah..." Orion gurgles in his sleep, and you throw Kyle a desperate look.

"Here," he reaches, pulling him into his chest, "I"ll hang out with big man for a bit. You go on." The tightness in your chest loosens, only a fraction.

"Thank you."

The doctor explains the extent of the damage. Surgery. Broken ribs. His limbs are intact, but he 'rung his bell' pretty hard, resulting in an awful concussion. She stops at the doorway with a sympathetic smile. "He's been out of surgery for a few hours, but is fairly groggy. He was asleep the last time the nurse was in. There's a call button on the wall, ring us if you need anything, okay?" You nod, dumbly. Barely processing. Heart squeezing in your chest.

"Simon, it's okay, it's me, just me." He pulls at the oxygen tubing under his nose, and you tug on his wrist, trying to prevent him from yanking it free. "Hey, hey. You're okay, you're in the hospital." You try to soothe him, calm him, but his eyes are blank, lungs raspy and stuttering, full of panic. It's agony to know he's suffering, he's scared, and you can't fix it. "Simon," you try again, placing a hand on his neck, trying to steer his focus onto yourself, but his lip trembles. The monitors beep wildly, too fast, and you try to settle him.

"No, please." Tears spring to your eyes. Your heart breaks. "Stop, stop, please." His voice fractures, tears shining on his cheeks.

"I'm here." Your fingers find his. "I'm here, you're okay, you're in the hospital." You lean over him, gently pressing your lips to his forehead-

and his arm swings wildly at your chest, shoving you away so forcefully you stumble backwards with a gasp, nearly falling.

The door opens, Price and Soap sprinting into the room, the captain holding Simon by the shoulders as Soap slams the call button.

The next moments pass in a blur. A team files in and sedates him, forces something into his IV as he moans, slurring words together you don't understand.

Your sobs come easily.

Your nose keeps skimming across the top of Orion's head.

He didn't mean it. He wasn't in his right mind.

You repeat it over and over again, trying to engrain it in your soul. It's easy to imagine, where he was in his mind. Pleading not to be touched, something in the moment, you didn't understand. It's so obvious looking back.

"He's awake now." Soap eases himself into the chair next to you, the one you've been in for five hours, eyes wide, free hand gripping a lukewarm tea like a lifeline. "Askin' if ye're here."

"He doesn't remember." It's not a question, but Soap still nods.

"We hav'nae told him yet. Wanted to talk ye first." You take a deep breath.

"Will you... will you take the baby? I don't want..." Soap's gaze softens, deep with sympathy.

"O'course."

"There you are." He's desperately relieved, head turned towards you, eyes wide and eager. You long for him, but your body refuses to budge, feet unable to carry you to his side. "It's okay, mama. It's not as bad as it looks. I'm okay."

"S-Simon." You're on the verge, spiraling, and his head tilts, confused, brows creased.

"C'mere, sweetheart. It's okay. I'm alright." Your heart screams. Wails, pleads and begs, move, step forward, go go go... but your body does not budge. You're frozen. "Hey. What's wrong?" Everything. You should be comforting him, helping him, holding him, but fight or flight is slowly poisoning your mind. He struggles to sit up in the bed, monitors sounding off, faster and faster, same pace as before, worry starting to seize his muscles. "What is it? What... are you okay? Is it the baby?"

"N-no... I-" You want to tell him, but the words evaporate. The only thing you can do is press yourself against the wall. Your knees go weak. Your heart is beating too fast, and you turn dizzy, hands splayed behind you for support.

He says your name. When it fails to get your attention, he says it again, louder, hoarse with worry.

It's all too much.

He's still calling for you as you run out the door.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Sweet Dreams

Logan Howlett x Y/N - drabble - 774 WC NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: SMUT, absolutely filthy sex, Logan being a consent king, mutant reader, dream/astral sex, penetration, blasphemy, biting, general whorishness, Logan being hot, IDK if this counts as somnophilia? I don't think it does but I'll let the readers decide

------------------------------

Logan stared at the ceiling, absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair. He listened to your heart beat rhythmically thinking about nothing in particular. His position only changed when your body gave a small jolt, your head lolling to the other side. He watched you cautiously; your eyes moved rapidly beneath your closed lids. Your breathing picked up and you had the slightest expression of pain on your face. Logan contemplated waking you up until he heard you say,

“Logan…” you panted out, your back arching slightly. 

You remained asleep, writhing gently as your mind played a deliciously sinful fantasy. Logan wanted to touch you, to help you - but he didn’t. You had never talked about doing stuff to each other while asleep, he didn't want to do anything you weren’t expressly ok with. He did, however, feel your mind poking at his. Like a fog that started to consume him. He saw what you were dreaming of. Him, slamming his hips into you while keeping his lips on yours. He sighed, closing his eyes at the vision. 

“Logan…” you whispered.

Logan opened his eyes, your physical body was still asleep but the version of you in the vision was looking directly at him. His eyes widened in disbelief. Suddenly, with just a blink, he was on top of your dream form. You caressed his cheek lovingly.

“What is this?” he asked, gazing down at your ethereal body. 

“It’s me,” you chuckled, “Well, my internalized form.” you smiled reassuringly at him. You were able to manipulate the minds of others, waking or otherwise. Logan had no idea you could do this though. 

“Are you awake?” he asked with slight confusion. 

“I am. Well, my consciousness is. My body is resting.” you replied, hands slowly wandering over his shoulders, feeling over every inch of muscle you could. 

Logan let out a groan, “Will you remember this in the morning? Will you know this happened?” he asked.

Your heart melted at his concern, “Of course. I am this body, we are one. There is more than one way to make love.” you said with a gentle blush. 

Logan felt like he was lighter, he stared down at you before looking over and seeing his sleeping body cuddled up next to yours. “What is this?” he asked you once again.

“Think of it as soul bonding. Astral forms combining…” you said.

Logan’s hands felt over you deftly, “Are you sure?” he asked with caution. 

You nodded as you pulled him down to kiss you. He was like an animal, keeping your lips on his until they were swollen. He switched to sucking marks into your skin while his fingers teased you below. Your back arched and you let out sweet mewls as he played with you, teasing you. 

“Please…” you whined.

“What is it baby?” he smirked.

“I… Need you…” you gasped as he already had you on the verge of an orgasm. 

“Oh baby, you have me…” he smiled innocently as he replaced his fingers with his cock, splitting you in half. 

You let out a silent scream as your orgasm hit you like a bolt of electricity. He fucked you through it, overstimulating you and rushing you towards another.

“Wake up.” you whispered in his ear.

Logan’s eyes snapped open, seeing you on top of him in your shared bedroom. He shook his head slightly. Logan wasted no time ripping off your shirt and underwear that you fell asleep in, slipping his cock back inside you. You tried to keep pace with him as you rode him but he fucked into like there was a time limit or he was never going to fuck you again. Eventually you slumped against his chest as he fucked you dumb. You bit and sucked bruises into him before watching his healing factor fade them into nothingness almost instantly. You felt him getting sloppy as you tumbled over the edge again, actually letting out a scream of pleasure as you felt him cum inside you. 

With a few more ruts he finally slowed to a stop, “Jesus Christ.” he breathed heavily.

You laughed, kissing up his chest and throat until you could capture his mouth. “Blasphemy?” you said.

Logan nipped your bottom lip as he leaned back, “How did you do that? The dream thing?”

You flushed a little, “My mind and body craved you so much I guess I couldn’t stop myself from trying to link with your mind.”

“Can we do it again?” he asked with hazy eyes and a lopsided smile. 

You leaned into him, kissing him again as you invaded his mind once more.

-------------------------------

Naboo's Note:

Something about this man ya'll I need him biblically. Hope you guys like this, it's honestly one of my favorites. My fingers were on fire typing it - all gas, no breaks. Love ya'll! XOXOXOXOXOXO

[yjhzies]

“3:16.” — Jeon Wonwoo

⸝⸝୭ ˚. fluff · est. relationship · self-indulgent

⋆ pairings : wonwoo x gn!reader ⋆ warning : none (let me know if there is ^^) ⋆ wc : 0.6k [✉️] · “Are you mad at me?“

⋆ - note : this is VERYYYYY self-indulgent 😔🤞 just need a wonu in my life

It was almost midnight, and Wonwoo was still reading his book, determined to finish it today. And you were waiting for him, your eyes growing heavy and on the verge of closing and falling asleep.

"Wonu," you muttered, tilting your head up to see his face, which showed no signs of sleepiness. His glasses hung loosely on his nose as he sat on the bed, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you firm against his chest, and the other hand holding a book he was reading.

"Hm?" In response, he hummed and kept his eyes glued to the book, not even glancing at you.

You frowned. It was the first time he wanted to read a book so bad. What could be so interesting? It's been 3 hours since he had been reading the book.

"Won't you go to sleep?"

"I will," He replied, stealing a quick glance at you. "After reading this."

"But—"

"You should go to sleep, love," Wonwoo said, patting the side of your waist. "I'll go to sleep after reading this, promise."

You would protest, but you found yourself getting more and more comfortable in his embrace. As his hands soothingly rubbed your back, your eyes finally shut close, allowing you to fall asleep.

You fluttered your eyes open. Blinking once, twice and again to get a better view of your surroundings. As everything started to view more clear, you frowned when you found Wonwoo's side of the bed empty.

Your hands reached out to touch his side, and the sheets were almost cold—indicating that he had been gone for awhile.

"Wonu?" Slightly slurring your words from having just woken up, you called out softly. When you received no response, you gradually adjusted your position to sit up on the bed.

Just as you reached to push the blanket away from your body, the bathroom door slowly opened, revealing Wonwoo.

His gaze immediately landed on you as he ruffled his hair with a towel.

"You're awake?" Wonwoo said, smiling softly as he hung the towel on a cloth hanger. You nod, rubbing your eyes.

"I went to take a shower," he said, walking toward the bed.

Your eyes widened slightly as he spoke. "Is it already morning? What time is it?"

Wonwoo swiftly made his way onto the bed and sat down next to you, pulling the covers over your thighs. "Relax, baby, it's only 3AM."

You turn your head to look at him; he was smiling and almost hovering above you.

Leaning back on the bedframe, you exhale with relief. "I thought it was already morning..." You mumbled, causing Wonwoo to chuckle softly.

"Did I disturb your sleep? I'm sorry." Reaching out to place his hands on your waist, he apologized.

You shake your head and shift yourself to face him before hugging him tightly. "It's not that," you say, pressing your face against his neck. "I'm still sleepy, though."

He hummed back, encircling you in his arms and stroking your back.

"Are you done reading your book?"

"Yeah, I am."

And as he felt your smile against his skin, he melted.

"I'm sorry for spending so much time on reading," he softly apologized. "Are you mad at me?"

You lightly lifted your head to look at him, wearing a sulky expression. "It would a lie if I said I'm not," you say, and Wonwoo frowns.

"I'm so sorry, I-"

"But I'll be okay if you cuddle me to sleep."

As his mind took in what you had just said, Wonwoo blinked. He chuckled a little and then pulled your body up against him, tightening his hold around you.

"Then I'll do just that."

[ggumjjun]

I lose a little piece of my sanity everytime I'm reminded of how huge soobins hands are 😪😪

# not the same !! c.sb

me the moment soobin posts a thirst trap:

# size kink + fingering. nsfw + mdni. soobin’s hands. that’s all.

eyelids heavy, head clouded and hazy with sleep,, even so, he’s still awake enough to feel a wet, sticky sensation coating his fingers, soobin’s dreams fading into reality as his eyes blink slowly,, and your pretty voice calling him into consciousness.

b-binnie, your whispering, desperate voice, whimpers and moans laced into words,, god, you just drive him insane, don’t you? so needy, biting your lower lip, on the verge of tears with salacious desire for him, his hand shoved into your soaked panties, thighs clenching around his wrist as you try to use his thin, slender fingers for pleasure, blood rushing south as soobin’s eyes focus, staring at your small, cute hands grasp and cling to his wrist, so uselessly sitting on n humping his hand as your slick coats his fingers in a sticky, warm mess.

please, b-binnie, need you so bad, c-can’t help it, you whimper, lip trembling, thighs clenching harder around his hand,, god, who’s he to refuse if you beg so nicely? yeah? my baby can’t do it by yourself? soobin murmurs, gently pushing your shoulder for you to lie on your back for him, marveling at your instant cries as two fingers push into your folds, walls clenching down at the intrusion. ‘s not the s-same, ‘m not good making it feel good–ah! the way the pearly tears spill down your cheeks at the pleasure of his long fingers reaching deeper than yours ever could, curling at your sweet spot, soobin’s lovestruck eyes taking in your every reaction,,

fuck,, he can just see it, the way you’d try not to wake him up, sitting back on your heels as you tug down your panties, wincing at the wet spot in embarrassment,, and staring at his slender hands as your much smaller fingers push into your drooling cunt,, only to be so disappointed when it’s not enough, frustrated pout at how it’s never enough unless soobin does it for you.

soobin, want a k-kiss, you whimper, pretty pouted lips and your small hands grassing for his arms, laced with lean muscle and veins beneath your fingertips,, and he’s more than willing to give, heart shaped lips slotting against yours as perfectly matched as can be, wet kisses laced with saliva and whispery moans, dizzying with sugary sweet love as soobin swallows your cries of your high, warn release soaking his hands as your back arches into him, clinging to his forearms, needing to feel him everywhere, as if drunk on his touch and presence.

and as his lips pull away from yours, a wet string of saliva hanging between your lips and his, pretty tears glistening on your cheeks, whimpering his name as he watches your small, cute hands reach for and palm the heavy bulge in his sweats, too big for your hands as you tentatively touch him through the soft fabric.

going to show me where you want me, bunny? a hint of a lovesick smile on his lips as soobin watches you shyly spread your legs for him, a glistening, sticky mess of arousal and your release slick over your thighs and cunt,, covering your eyes in embarrassment as his hand pulls away from your folds, peeking through your fingers as he licks his clean, deliberately slow, before reaching down to drag down his sweats, a lust-filled haze clouding over his mind as your pretty eyes widen both nervous and needy,,

think you can fit me all the way today, baby?

[monsterfuckerconfessions]

Imagine you have a sleep paralysis demon. You tell yourself he’s not real but he is. He was only there at first to terrorize you so he can feed off your fear but slowly became obsessed with you.

One hot summer night in July your roommates are out on vacation and didn’t take you. It’s stiflingly hot even with AC and you can’t get comfortable so you sleep naked.

The demon watches you undress and can’t stop himself from getting hard. As you sleep it gets worse. You toss and turn, making the covers slip down and expose your body to him. He can’t resist anymore.

You awake to find him on top of you, grinding his hips against yours. He cups one of your breasts, kneading it and licking at your hard nipple as he lets out a low growl. You’re terrified, paralyzed by fear but can’t deny he’s touching you just right and can’t help but notice that up close he’s…beautiful.

You tell yourself you’re just dreaming and it’s all in your head but it feels real when he kisses you.

After a while he pulls back. Tentacles shoot out from his body and wrap themselves around your bare thighs and forcing them apart. Flustered you try to close them but you’re can’t and now there’s no hiding how wet he made you. “Looks like you like me after all.”

He spreads your outer lips apart to reveal your opening and tells you you have the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen. He caresses your outer lips making you moan and slipping another slick tentacle inside you.

You should fight back but no longer want to. You can’t help but buck your hips against the appendage. The further it goes in the thicker it gets, stretching you open for him, twisting around inside you until you start shaking. He smirks and pulls it out just as you’re on the verge of cumming. Tears stream down your face from overstimulation. “More,” you whine.

He kisses you deeply again before unzipping his pants. His cock is perfect. Thick and veiny, but bigger than any human’s with ridges all down it. You bite your lips, afraid he won’t fit. He shushes you and rubs his cock back and forth over your throbbing clit until it’s slick with your juices.

You’re so wet the tip slips in without much resistance. He works his way in with slow thrusts, praising you for how good you’re taking his cock when it starts to hurt and kissing your neck as one of his tentacles latches onto your clit and starts sucking it. He pulls your legs apart wider, pinning them against the mattress until he’s fully sheathed.

Once inside he’s no longer gentle, biting your neck until it bleeds and pounding into you at a relentless pace as he tells you how good your pussy feels. You want to dig your nails into his back but he has your arms pinned above your head.

You moan and writhe so loud the whole neighborhood can hear as you beg him to fuck you harder until you clench around his thick cock, cumming as he fills you with his seed.

You’re so overwhelmed with pleasure and exhaustion you pass out in his arms. When you awake that morning you don’t know if it was real or not until you realize you can’t sit down. You can almost still feel his big cock inside you all day. As you shower and dress you see written in the fog on the mirror, “I’ll be back tonight ♡”

.

[devoutekuna]

Taking care of his pregnant wife

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

Sukuna-

Everyone knows that the king isn't big of affection, it took years for him to even consider you the queen. That's why he always expressed his love for you in indirect gifts, like preparing your favourite meal, raiding a village just so you could get your favourite food or something like that. "Y/N!" Name being screamed as he grabbed your leg, watching your sleeping body hang in the air as he held you upside down. "Get up, don't be burden " you both knew that you'd never be a burden to him, it was only nearly words to him, meaning nothing but to keep his image. "I'm up 'my king'" rolling your eyes at the word king rolling off your tongue, he would've dropped you on the bed right now, but he remembers that your carrying the next heir, wanting to make sure you didn't die before him, he placed you on the floor, pulling your dress down so you didn't flash him.

Sat at the dining table, legs crossed as he stuffed his face with food, he rarely had a big breakfast unless it was a special occasion, always opting for a big dinner instead. "Morning" your cheery self rubbing your stomach, it was a habit now, since you were on the verge of giving birth any second now. Nodding as he carried on eating, you couldn't blame him, Uraume made some good food, that's why they were alive for so long. Sat beside him as you reached for the nearest plate, picking your favourite food up, resting your head onto his shoulder, normally hed kill anyone right there for getting too close to him but since it was you, you had a pass.

Nanami-

Nanami loves you and his daughter, always opting for you to rest rather than take care of your 3 year old. Finding you asleep on the at the kitchen table after coming home from work, head resting on the table from your exhaustion, hearing the TV blaring into his ears as he peeked round the corner, seeing his 3 year old daughter sat at the front of the TV, head resting on her shoulder, wrapped in a bunch of blankets and her own toys, noticing how smart and considerate she was for putting a blanket and pillow on you. Sighing as he hid back a smile, dropping his briefcase which carried his cursed weapon, walking over to check your temperature since it was pretty cold. Strolling over to his daughter as he picked her limp body up. Straddling her in his arms as he dragged her upstairs, fortunately she had brushed her teeth already and gotten into her pyjamas, so it was an easy task of just dropping her off into bed.

Walking back down after dropping his daughter off, picking you up, making sure not bump your stomach on the table, he wanted to make sure you were close but comfortable, especially since you recently complained about back pain cause of the baby. Resting your body onto the pull out sofa, wrapping your body in a bunch of blankets to keep your temperature normal. Kissing your forehead before heading off to the kitchen, sleeves already rolled up as he put on the yellow gloves and dipped his hand into the dirty water, searching for some small utensils he could wash first.

Geto-

Geto adores you pregnant, trying to sympathise with the way you feel despite his unethical ways of life. "Let me do that" grabbing the pot from your hands as you tried to drain the water out of the pot. Ushering you to sit down instead of overworking yourself. "I'm not that delicate, Suguru" trying to defend your actions as you took a seat, not rejecting the offer as it was nice for someone else to take over once in a while.

"I know but still" trying to defend his actions as he served you a bowl of noodles, giving your cheek a quick peck before sitting down beside you. "But I appreciate your efforts" smiling at him as you played with your noodles, making sure they weren't too hot.

Gojo-

"Y/N!" Shaking your limp body awake, hands full of cleaning supplies. "What shall I use?" Glancing towards the bathroom, normally you two rotated on cleaning but since you were pregnant he started to take over your shifts, noticing how sleepy and disoriented you were due to being woken up after a short nap. "Morning love, now what do I use?" Fighting the urge to drop whatever he was doing and cuddle in bed right now.

"What are you cleaning?" Rubbing your hand through your eyelashes to get the sleep out. "The bathrooms, but the wall tiles." Confirming with himself. He didn't know anything about cleaning till he met you, having to teach him from scratch since he was raised as a spoiled kid who had nannies. "I've got myself a toothbrush thing and wall spray?" Asking, he was in a rush since he wanted to get back to you, laying around in bed was his biggest want right now. Nodding in response. "Yeah just use that, wake me up when breakfast is done" knowing that he'd make your favourite breakfast since you were carrying his kid.

Toji-

Waking up on his wife was the best feeling, not needing a pillow due to him sleeping on your breasts, listening to your heartbeat as you slept soundly. Hand rubbing along your stomach, trying to feel some sort of movement from his little girl. "Morning love" caressing his hair as you felt him on you, feeling his small stubble as he lifted his head, brown eyes looking into yours. "Morning" hand resting against your underwear's waistband, playing with it as he kept on stringing it onto your skin. Sighing as he felt kicking from his little girl, sliding off you as you readjusted your body into a more comfortable position. "Ya' sleep good?" Looking up at your face, he was so mesmerized by you, hand still rubbing your stomach.

[smooth-operator-55]

Carlos with dialogues n°2 situations n°10 and places n°4 pls 🙏🙏🙏🙏

Say my name | CS55

In which you accidentally moan an ex's name while being intimate with fwb!Carlos, in his car.

Warnings: friends with benefits, smut, piv (protected), tiniest bit of angst if you squint (but not really), english not being my first language

Word count: 2,6k

A/N: Thank you for the patience, other one-shots will be posted shortly as well! Hope you like it :)

The night flowed easily, just like the drinks in the club you were at with your friends. A night out was much needed by everyone, just being together and having fun. It was getting quite late, which was visible on some of the small group you were out with. After multiple glasses of shots, cocktails and beers being downed by everyone, some could still dance but some were already half asleep in the booth.

You were on the verge of the latter when you felt a hand on your shoulder, making you jump a tad. Looking up, you saw Carlos standing over you. His lips moved but his voice blended in perfectly with the loud music and bass vibrating through the walls and your lungs – though your tipsy state didn't help either.

Carlos bent down and his warm hand immediately wrapped around your wrist gently. He repeated himself with his lips right next to your ear.

"Come dance with me!"

Feeling the effect of the night and the drinks you'd had, you thought it was better not to, even if you wanted to. When he saw you shaking your head, Carlos just stared nodding his as he tried to pull you to stand, making you shake yours even more.

"Do you feel sick?" His lips traced the shell of your ear once again. You shook your head again in response.

"I'm tired." You shouted over the music.

He sat down next to you, his side right up against you without any space left between your bodies.

"Do you want to go home?" His eyes scanned your face for any signs of discomfort, letting them linger on your lips for just a little too long.

You shrugged your shoulders in indecisiveness. You were hoping that you would come alive in a few minutes, that the tiredness would only last a little more. It's been long since you had the chance to go out with your friends and you didn't want to leave just yet.

"I just wish I wasn't tired." You leaned closer to him as he dipped his head in your direction so he could actually hear you.

As soon as he heard your words, an idea came to his mind, making a playful, teasing smirk show on his face. He was actually hoping he could get you alone sometime very soon, after watching you dance on the dancefloor. In his eyes every move of yours seemed sinful.

Feeling like this was his chance, he grabbed your hand and nodded with his head towards the back exit. You stood as he pulled your hand and started following him outside, closely behind him. The warm summer air hit you when you stepped outside, the oxygen already starting to make you feel more awake.

"Where are we going, Carlos?" You asked him when you reached his car in the parking lot. "You drank. You can't drive."

"Who said anything about driving, hermosa?" He raised his eyebrows as he reached into his pocket for his keys, unlocking the doors of his Alfa Romeo.

"Carlos..." You suddenly realised where his head was at, making your eyes widen in disbelief.

"Hm?" He opened the door and grinned when he saw your reaction. "It's not like we haven't done it before in a car."

When he saw indecisiveness taking over you again, he let go of the door handle and stepped closer to you, grabbing your face on both sides.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just so...random."

"Random?"

"I didn't think this would be your solution."

"Do you want to? It's okay if not."

"I didn't say that."

"Then get in the car before someone sees us out here."

You quickly climbed in the back with him following behind you and shutting the door.

He reached for you right away and in a second his lips were already on yours. One of his hands cupped your cheek, while the other laid on your thigh, stroking it slowly and gripping it lightly. Your hands ended up in his soft, thick hair – out of habit by this point. When his tongue was about to enter your mouth, you broke the kiss.

"What if the others start looking for us?"

"Then they'll be looking for us." He leaned in, only for you to interrupt him again.

"I'm serious, Carlos."

"Good, me too." He breathed, but continued when he'd seen the unsatisfied look on your face. "I don't think they'll look for us. They're too drunk to notice we're not there anyway."

"But what if they find us? It's risky."

"It only makes it more fun, if you ask me." He whispered and leaned in again to press kisses onto the hot skin of your neck. "Plus...we're adults...and...we can do..." he said between kisses before he looked at your face and gave your lips a quick peck, "whatever we want to do."

"Okay, but be quick." You gave in to him.

His lips were on yours again in no second as his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you into his lap. Obeying your wish, he sped things up a tad. His fingers wandered under the fabric of you dress and started to tease you through your underwear. He softly caressed you through the thin fabric, knowing the effect this had on you.

Your hands wandered from his hair to his stubble-covered face and neck. The feeling of his fingers against you made you sigh. Trying to increase the feeling, you started moving your hips against his hand and the rough material of his jeans, easily being able to feel his hardness through them. Your actions made him groan deeply, his hand now resting on your butt.

Your fingers soon started working on his belt and the button and zipper of his jeans.

This time it was him who broke the kiss. He slightly raised his hips, trying to slide his trousers further down, along with his underwear. You quickly turned around to open the centre console box, reaching for a silver package. He took it from your hand, ripped it open with his teeth and rolled it down on himself with a quick movement. He lifted his gaze to your face as he looked for any signs to stop, your eyes meeting before a quick kiss.

His finger slid your panties to the side as you lifted your hips and took him in your hand to guide him. You tapped him against your clit and grinded on him to really work him up as much as you could. He threw his head back against the headrest as a heavy moan fell from his lips.

"Hermosa, por favor."

You lined him up with yourself and slid down on him slowly, letting yourself adjust to him, moans echoing around in the small space. He leaned in to kiss you again, his tongue entering your mouth. As you started moving up and down, sighs, heavy breaths, groans and moans became more frequent. His hands wandered from your cheeks to your hips, down to your ass, a firm grip on it. You tried to pick up the pace, but it wasn't too long 'til your thighs started to get tired. Carlos sensed your struggle, so he started moving his hips as well, thrusting up into you. You broke the kiss as a mixture of a whimper and a moan fell from your lips when you felt his movements first. His hands that were resting on your ass also tried to help you with the burning sensation in your thighs, as he helped you move up and down.

You got so lost in the way he completely took control in just a matter of seconds, you could already feel your climax getting closer and closer. The scent of him mixing with sweat filled your nose as the windows started fogging up. His hips moved just the right way, especially when he placed his hand on your back and pushed you into his chest, thursting into you at a new angle, constantly hitting your sweet spot. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck and you could barely stop moaning. The new angle made you lose your mind. The alcohol in your system didn't help either, so when an unexpected moan – or more like an unexpected name – sounded from your lips, you surprised yourself. Especially the man underneath you.

"What?" His hips stopped nearly immediately as he breathed heavily.

You lifted your head to look at him when you felt him stop, your brain barely being able to function and catch up with the last few seconds.

"What?" You breathed heavily as well, as you realised what you just said – the burning sensation not in your thighs anymore, but more like in your face, from the embarrassment.

"What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything."

"Why did you say his name?" Confusion sat on his face.

"I...I didn't. I said Carlos." You denied it, trying to convince rather yourself than him.

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did!" You looked at him, his expression giving away the fact that he heard you loud and clear. "Look, it just slipped out, I'm sorry."

He just sighed, not knowing how to react exactly.

A few moments of sitting in silence had passed before you slowly and carefully started caressing his lower arms and leaned in to place soft pecks on his neck, trying to reignite the mood. He remained still. You looked back up at him, a moody expression sitting on his face.

"I'm sorry, Carlos."

"Why did you say his name?" He asked again.

"It's nothing...it must've been because he texted me last week and we've been talking lately."

"Again? Do you remember what happened last time?"

"Yes, I do and I don't need a lecture. As you said, I'm an adult and I can do whatever I want."

"I'm just saying. It didn't end well last time and I don't want to see you like that again."

"We're not even back together!" You raised your voice a tad in frustration. "Nothing is going to happen. Now, can I move?"

"You're thinking about another man while I'm balls deep inside you. You can't really expect me to be okay with that."

"I mean, it's just sex. So why would you ever be jealous?"

"I'm not jealous, but this wouldn't boost any man's ego."

"I didn't mean to say his name, I promise. Just please, let me move."

His grip on your hips that held you from moving loosened after a few seconds, making you lift them slowly, before sinking back down. You couldn't help but gasp at the feeling, still sensitive. The look on Carlos' face didn't really change; he was determined not to let it. He didn't make a single noise as you moved your hips, his hands didn't wander over your body either.

"You really gonna give me the silent treatment?" You slowed down again, keeping the movement minimal on his lap. Your hands sneaked under his shirt, stroking his abs before you decided to undo the buttons. After the first three buttons were undone, you pressed open-mouthed kisses on his smooth, hot chest. Your fingers moved further down until there were no buttons left.

"What can I do to make you forget that, guapo?" Your lips reached his neck.

Before you could even blink you were already laying on your back on the leather seats with Carlos between your legs, possessiveness getting the best of him.

"Block him. And never talk to him again."

His hands gripped your waist to keep you in place as he started moving his hips. Your leg that was up against the headrests was suddenly laying on his shoulder, occasionally meeting the roof of his car. His lips came close to yours, giving you the impression of wanting to kiss you, only for him to pull away when you leaned in. He kept playing this game of back and forth, before moving down to your neck, his punishment for you is not letting you kiss him.

Your hands were gripping his strong forearms, the muscles hard beneath your fingers. The delicious angle had you moaning and whimpering under him, whilst he still wasn't being as vocal as he usually would be. It took you suddenly clenching around him for him to release a deep moan, startling him and making his rhythm irregular for a moment.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?" You looked at him with innocent eyes, right as you did it again.

"I won't say it again." He snapped his hips against yours harder, making you ride up on the seats. You gasped at his action, as you felt your climax building.

"Tell me who's making you feel this good, bontia?"

"You, papi."

"Who?"

"You, Carlos!" You said when you realised what he meant.

"Say it again." He picked up the pace.

His name fell from your lips repeatedly like a prayer as you were about to fall apart. You could tell he was getting close as well, judging by his grunts, heavy moans and his rapid pace.

"Carlos-" You squeezed out to let him know what he already knew. His hand started toying with your clit, making you lose your mind immediately. You came around him with a loud moan, nails leaving red lines and marks on his arms as your back arched into him. The feel of your constant clenching around his cock was more than enough for him; he buried his head in the crook of your neck as he came, a deep moan falling from his lips. His grip on your waist and thigh loosened after a few seconds as he slowed down, eventually stopping his movements and sliding your leg down from his shoulder.

He laid on top of you for a little as you both tried to catch your breaths, your fingers playing with his hair.

"We should go back inside." You whispered after a few minutes, when your heart rate was finally back at its natural pace.

Carlos lifted himself from you and pulled out gently. He adjusted your panties and lightly slapped your sensitive clit, making you gasp at the feeling. A smug smirk sat on his face as he took off the used condom, wrapped it in a tissue and tossed it on the floor of his car at the driver's seat. You quickly pulled your dress back down while he pulled up his underwear and buttoned his jeans. He was fidgeting with his belt when he spoke.

"I meant it when I told you to block him. He's not good for you."

"We just talked. That doesn't mean anything."

"It doesn't mean anything now, but it will later. Either you block him or this was our last time. I'm not watching you getting your heart broken by him again."

Seeing the serious look on his face, you took your phone from your bag that had fallen onto the floor and did as Carlos had asked.

"There you go. Happy?"

"Sí." He looked into your eyes as he was buttoning his shirt. "You deserve much better than that dickhead."

"You missed the first button." Your eyes traced over his shirt.

"Mierda." He muttered as he started unbuttoning what he had just buttoned. You watched the entire process – quite entertained – but stopped him when he was about to start over, grabbing the wrong button again.

"No, let me." Your fingers started working as you felt his eyes staring. "I'm sorry again."

"It happens, I guess." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Still, I'm sorry. It won't happen again...I don't even understand how it did, honestly. You're much better than he could ever be." You whispered and leaned in to kiss him.

"Yeah?" He murmured into the kiss.

"Mhmm."

"Good." His hands cupped your cheeks as the kiss deepened. Your hand got lost in his hair way too easily again, tugging on it softly in the heat of the moment, which earned a moan from him. "Mmm, Isa."

You broke the kiss and swatted his arm when you realised what he was doing, making him chuckle.

"Stop it."

"I'm just kidding, hermosa. Let's go back inside before they really start looking for us."

[spacebarbarianweird]

Fever

Summary: During your post-game adventures, you get sick and Astarion takes care of you.

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Tags: hurt/comfort, f!tav, established relationship, post-game

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Thanks @tragedybunny for being an amazing beta!

It's bone-chilling cold. So close to the Spine of the World, the snow and winds prove as merciless as demons from the Abyss. Tears freeze on your cheeks. Even Astarion, wrapped in his fur cape, shivers; the cold seeping into his undead body. He starves. The dark forest is silent, with no animals around to prey on.

"Astarion," you muffle through the thick scarf, "take a small sip, I beg you."

"No," he refuses yet again, unwilling to risk your life. Hunger and cold torment him, but he stands on his feet. Meanwhile, you, a fragile mortal, teeter on the verge of death in this frozen forest. Your back aches despite Astarion carrying most of the load. Your feet are numb as if submerged in icy water, and your throat burns with pain.

Astarion grabs your hand and lets you lean back on him. The nearest village is still miles away, and there's no chance you'll make it till sunrise. Nights are long, dark, and unforgiving. You need to set up the camp; it might be warmer in daylight.

But Astarion desperately holds on to his sanity, which he might lose if he doesn't feed soon.

"Astarion, please. We need to put up the tent. Sunrise is soon. I will just lay by the fire, and you can eat."

"We still have time, darling, and save your energy," he grits his teeth. The starving monster within him looks at you through Astarion's kind crimson eyes.

"Astarion, take my blood!"

He doesn't reply, leading the way through dark woods. If only there was an animal, even a rat. Looking up, you see the dark skies filled with prickly stars.

"What is it, my sweet?"

Suddenly, you realize you haven't been cold because of the snow and winds. You are cold from within. Your heart, lungs, and bones are freezing, much like what Astarion feels every moment since he died. "Oh, fuck!"

You realize you now lie in the snow, unable to move, as the air in your throat burns with ice.

"Wake up, gods damn you!" Astarion's voice is desperate, betraying that he' is scared to death.

You hear the loud thump when his travel sack drops in the snow. Then he works on your belts, releasing your burden. A moment later, and you rest in his hands.

"Love, I need you to stay awake. You hear me?"

But you can't say anything. The cold rips through your muscles, turning into ice, and you lose consciousness, drowning in cold, dark waters.

So cold, so cold. It's a freezing grip of death on your heart, killing you. You think of Astarion, imagining him beside your lifeless body.

… You hear muffled talking and open your eyes. You aren't dead, that's for sure, but there is complete darkness around you.

And you lie under something weighty.

You try to move but can't, your. whole body shivers. You are almost naked, tucked in animal fur like some barbarian child.

The smell wood and herbs comes to you. And fire.

Then you remember the sun. And how Astarion carried you in his hands. Horror pierces your mind along with cold.

He is dead. He didn't make it till sunrise. It burnt him; he is gone. And the village people probably found you alone in the snow and brought you here.

While you think, you realize there are people in the room. Two people, to be precise.

"It's a freezing fever," the female voice says. "You two would have been complete idiots if you'd decided to put up a camp. She would have been dead by now."

"But now—is she ok?"

Astarion.

You have never felt so much joy in your life. He is alive and here, beside you. You can't comprehend how much strength he had to pull to make it with you in his hands by sunrise.

"She needs to take the potion. And then sleep in warmth."

You feel the familiar weight beside you. Then, two hands get you out of the blankets and make you sit up. Your head is spinning, and you shiver, though you notice sweat on the healer's face.

Astarion smiles at you and brings the bottle with the potion to your lips.

"Drink, love," he says.

"The taste is nasty," the healer shrugs. "Make her drink every last drop."

The potion is genuinely awful, burning your mouth. You start slipping away again, and Astarion tucks you in thick blankets.

"And people say vampires are soulless creatures. They should meet you two.”

When the healer leaves, Astarion lies beside you over the blanket. You wish to hug him but are afraid of his cold skin.

"Are you hungry?" you ask.

You hear a chuckle. "You are at death's door, and you ask about me? "Take mine," you insist.

"Tav, darling, I ain't taking a tiny drop from you until you fully recover. There is prey in the woods. I will find it."

You want to say something else, but the freezing hand of the sickness grips your throat. You feel like you’re naked on ice, in the howling wind.

"Love?"

"It's still… cold…"

Astarion sighs and stands up. You want to cry, to beg him to stay, but you can't say anything as he leaves the room, closing the thick wooden door.

You feel like crying, alone, and freezing. The healer curses, "You, idiot, stay inside!"

You hide under the blanket in the fetal position, trying to save warmth. However, it's difficult since the core of your suffering is still within. What if you are dying? And you are dying all alone in this village without a name in the middle of nowhere.

It's been years since you left Baldur's Gate together, and you can't fall asleep without him by your side. Astarion is safety. Astarion is protection. Whatever enemy is out there to threaten your life and freedom, Astarion is always there with his fangs and daggers. He doesn't sleep—only meditates a bit—and he is your guardian when you are most vulnerable.

But now you are alone. Your mind grasps consciousness with the last bits of strength you have. The thick blankets don't let you move, and you lie like you’re in your very own coffin of ice. It's been a long time since you were left alone, but you know it's still dark outside. And then you realize you aren't alone anymore.

Astarion crawls under the blankets and covers your body with himself, placing his head on your chest. He smells like blood, the hunt, and forest. He has already pulled off all his clothes, and you feel his skin against yours, unexpectedly flaming hot.

You can only wonder how much blood he has drunk. Sure, his body gets warm after feeding, and the more living blood he takes, the more alive he seems. But this is different. You can't see him, but you are somehow sure his skin has temporarily returned to its natural living color.

You wrap your hands around him and stroke the scars. Astarion groans and adjusts himself a bit.

"I've been hunting," he says, sounding drunk. "The healer told me there is a bear attacking villagers, starved and angry. I found and drained it."

"You shouldn't have risked it."

"I wanted you to be warm. I know how it feels to have a freezing grip on the heart. It hurts. All the time."

You press him tighter and kiss his forehead.

With him in your hands, you finally fall asleep. You have a strange dream—a summer day in the beautiful mountains.

And there is Astarion beside you. He smiles, exposing his face to the sunshine. You want to tell him to hide, to run away. But he opens his eyes, and you stare at him in disbelief.

They are green, not red.

… When you wake up, you feel hot. Sweat runs down your back, and the blankets suffocate you. You get out of them like a kitten squeezed by its mother.

"Hello, my sweet. You are so adorable with this bed hair," Astarion sits on the floor with a needle and a thread. You recognize his own shirt in his hands.

"How awful do I look?"

"You look like someone who finally got better. But I suppose you could scare away some kids in that village. Maybe I should tell them you are also a vampire. Food or bath?" he asks.

"Food. I am dying of hunger."

"My sweet, don't tell me about hunger." He mockingly kisses you. He returns soon with a soup bowl. You try to take the plate in your trembling hands, but Astarion forces you to sit still like a baby and starts spoon-feeding you.

"Good girl," he chuckles. "The healer said it would take you weeks to recover, and you made it in three days."

"And you have been here?"

"Don't offend me with such questions."

"Oh, don't be angry."

With a full stomach, you feel much better and lie back on the bed, letting your body fully recover. Astarion studies your face as if seeing it for the first time. Then he lies beside you, allowing you to place your head on his chest. His skin is cold again, but it feels more like him.

"What is on your mind, Astarion?" you ask.

"I want to stay," he says. "Not exactly here, but I can't live like that anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Living on the road. I can't do that anymore. You obviously can't either. I... listen… I've never had a home. Never had a place to call my own. I want one. I want one with you."

"Didn't you tell me it would be tediously boring?" you inquire. "I wanted to see what life has to offer beyond the city walls." "Astarion, it will be dangerous. No one would want a—"

You bite your tongue. "Sorry."

"Dealing with a nosey neighbor doesn't sound more dangerous than getting some weird sickness in the middle of nowhere. Besides, we can prove to people it's better to have a vampire of their own rather than be threatened by some unhinged vampire lord.”

"Astarion, I am afraid for you. People hate vampires!"

"And I am afraid for you."

You are both silent. You turn to him and nuzzle his collarbone. He wraps his hands around you. Vague memories return, and you suddenly realize you heard the voices while in fever.

"Don't die. Please, don't die. I need you."

A scared voice of a healer. "You are a vampire!"

"Please help her. I won't come inside. I will stay in the woods. Please, please, help her! She is mortal; she is dying!"

You remember being carried to the bed and a strong smell of herbs. "How did you two end up together?", asked the healer.

"She saved me. From myself. Showed me I have a chance to be something different from what I was turned into. Tell me what I can do. Do you need herbs? Ingredients? I will bring you anything."

And then the face of the healer standing above you. She came to check on you in Astarion's absence, and the feverish mind remembered that.

"You are a lucky to have him, girl."

You caress Astarion's cheek. "Would staying in one place make you happy?"

He nods.

"Then, me too." --

Tag list

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria @wintersire

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

comfort | kmg

i am feeling icky (physically and mentally and basically in all the ways, send help lol) and as always mingyu is my comfort human so i guess i was just feeling it. reader is mentioned to be an introvert. also reader is in a bad place mentally, lowkey is implied to be a depressive episode (self-insert? hi). kinda sorta from mingyu's pov. pet names used (honey, baby, my love). kinda sorta based on this song (How to Love You Today by Son of Cloud).

mingyu understands the difference between being introverted and being quiet -- after all, he's friends with hoshi, an introvert, who can blow his eardrums at a moment's notice. he's also dating you, and while you're no hoshi, you're definitely not a wonwoo, either.

more than understanding the difference between quiet and introverted, though, he knows you. so he knows that look you have in your eyes -- the hollow, dull look that steals over your features, sometimes for weeks at a time, while you struggle to feel anything at all. he sees it in you now as you stare out the window at the gloomy clouds gathering over the hills.

it's getting bad again. he knows it. you're usually so still when you sleep, and so splendidly expressive while you're awake, but recently that has switched -- your dreams are restless and your sleep-talking more vocal, and you spend more time sitting and staring than you do normally, your face blank and empty, your hands cold whenever he reaches for them. these are the kinds of days that sap you of your saturation, leaving you feeling listless and drained -- times when mingyu has to remind you in gentle tones to eat, to come to bed, to join him in the shower. your mind is not always kind to you, so mingyu has made it his personal mission to be so.

the worst part is, you've stopped singing. when you'd been "just friends", sometimes your constant humming and vocalizing would peeve mingyu when he was trying to concentrate, but after living with you for almost two years, he barely notices it anymore. in fact, he only really notices when you stop, and it's one of his first indicators that something is off about you.

he's been waiting for you to tell him what's going on. usually he can tell you're in a bad state before you can, but mingyu also knows that if he tells you he's noticed, you'll start trying to hide it from him. because you don't want to be a burden. (the thought of you ever being too much for him is laughable to mingyu. he loves you like it's breathing -- just an instinct, something he never even needs to think about, because it's just that easy. every person is heavy sometimes, so why was it so unreasonable for you, his most beloved and treasured person, to believe that he'd willingly carry you, no matter how heavy you got?)

so he waits, staying aware of you always, noting how the dark circles under your hollow eyes get more pronounced. and he worries, of course he does. but he also knows that one day, soon, you'll --

"mingyu?"

he's in the kitchen shredding lettuce for a sandwich for you when he hears it: that tiny voice you use when you're sort of kind of hoping he doesn't turn around to look at you. because you're on the verge of tears, or you look like hell, or a million other reasons that he couldn't care less about. so he turns around. "hey baby. what's up?"

"i...i don't feel good."

that's really all he needs. that's really all it takes, if he's being honest with himself. he goes to you where you hover in the doorway, afraid to take up space, and pulls you into his arms. "i know, honey. i've got you."

there's nothing like the feeling of having your tense muscles relax into him, the way your body releases all that angst as he runs a warm hand up and down your back. you lean your head against his shoulder and repeat, "you got me?" softly, almost embarrassed.

but even as mingyu's heart aches for you -- even as the tears prick the back of his eyes as he thinks of how you must've been suffering -- he feels so grateful. grateful that you trust him. grateful that you feel safe enough to do what he knows is so scary for you. grateful that you choose to do it despite everyone in the past who has made you feel inadequate for needing a hand.

he presses one, two, three kisses to your temple. "i've got you, my love. i've always got you."

[monimccoythings]

Alastor x Daughter!Reader III (Platonic)

Yeah, this is going to take place after the end of season 1, just after Sir Pentious has ascended and the hotel has been rebuilt into a bigger better version. I just don't know how to fit Y/N in season 1.

Reminder: Alastor is in Hell for a reason.

TW: This contains a very delicate matter, like PTSD and panic attacks, even though I wanted to keep it brief because I'm not very well versed in these kind of subjects and wanted to be careful and respectful with it, I'm not entirely satisfied with how I wrote it, I researched and looked into my past experiences, but still don't think I truly adapted it as best as I would have liked. Also several mentions of cannibalism. Brief mentions of controlling behavior.

This isn't proof read so sorry for any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes.

Part I ｜Part II｜Part III (You are here!)

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog

Soft jazz music enveloped the room, accompained by a strong smell of coffee and magnolias, someone was humming quietly to the music. Somehow, it reminded you of home.

You blinked groggily, trying to get the sleep away from your eyes, and leaned on your elbow. Why was the ground so soft and cushioned?

Yor eyes shot wide open when you remebered the events that led you there. The blood, the laughter, the eyes, the smile, the radio static... Your heart started beating wildly inside your ribcage, and you suddenly found yourself gasping for air. You clutched your old dress, hoping that would alleviate the growing pressure in your chest in some way.

"Well, look who's finally awake!" Alastor left the newspaper on the table and turned towards you, if his grin was supposed to be comforting it was not working. Just the fact that he was acting so casual, as if nothing had happened in the last ninety years made everything a million times worse.

"You are quite the hide and seek champion, ma petite faon. It took several years for my shadows to casually find you and then it took even longer for me to believe you actually had been sent here, ha ha!" His neck bended in an unnatural way as he laughed.

Crap. Did he always know where you were? Was this just a game of cat and mouse for him?

As if he had read your mind, his eyes adopted a more relaxed expression that did nothing to soothe your nerves. "Well, for the last ten years you gave me quite the chase, cher. Always on the move, never stopping, from one part of the ring to the other. And then there's that seven year gap." He muttered to himself that last part.

You still felt on the verge of a panic attack. Your body couldn't and wouldn't stop shaking, and felt like reality was blurring around you. Everything was happening too fast, it brought you back to that night decades ago when you found that your beloved father had actually been a serial killer. It almost felt like it was mere minutes ago.

Alastor knew of your discomfort, your fear. He could see it as clear as a day, he could almost taste it. He had always enjoyed tasting the fear on his victims, but yours only left an aftertaste of bitterness in his mouth. It was rotten, putrid and nauseating. Maybe because it was the only fear he should never had a taste of. Watching you like this also brought him back to the night he lost you.

As he held your unmoving body in his arms, for a couple of seconds his brain stopped functioning, unable to accept what had just happened. The pain he felt was just like someone had ripped his chest open and pulled out his still beating heart, only to crush it, leaving an empty and cold hole in its place.

He had taken you to your room and laid you in the bed, tucking you in. You looked so peaceful, if your face and clothes weren't stained with blood he would have believed you were sleeping. But you would never wake up again.

The next couple of days passed in a blur, tracking down the man who had dared to do this to you and then run away, and giving him his fair punishment. And as he dragged his mutilated body through the forest... Well... the rest is history.

"Anyways! All's well that ends well! Now I found you, and you won't need to worry anymore!" His chirpy radio filtered voice portrayed some genuine happiness that didn't reach you. The bond and trust that used to tie you two together, had been damaged beyond repair. And Alastor knew. That didn't mean he was going to give up, though.

Before he had the chance to make things even more awkward between you two, the door bursted open, revealing several people behind it.

"Oh, you're awake, that's so great! We were all sooo worried since Al suddenly brought you here, and you seemed passed out, we didn't know if you were alive or-" The blonde haired demon kept rambling, but you barely listened to her, way too much in shock. Behind her, there was a bunch of demons: a winged cat who would be rather doing anything else than be there, a tiny cyclops with a psychotic and perky smile; a spider demon who, if anything, looked confused; a taller cyclops demon girl who found the dirt in her nails to be way more interesting than you, and some kind of moth demon girl? You wondered if they all were going to participate in your slaughter or were just going to watch.

"-aaaand who were you again?" The blonde demon asked with an awkward smile.

"I'm very glad you're asking! Because this is no other than my beloved little girl!" Alastor opened his arms widely in a dramatic form of presentation as the sound effect of a studio crowd cheering mixed with his voice.

"Wha- hold the fuck up? Your daughter??? Didn't you sing to Luci-?"

One glare full of murderous intention and loud static was enough for the spider demon to shut up.

"Now, now, how about we let the newest addition to our merry little band have a well deserved rest." Your dad not so gently pushed the uninvited guests back towards the door.

"Addition? Is she our new guest?" The moth-like demon girl asked.

Alastor's face darkened and loud static filled the room. "A҉b҉s҉o҉l҉u҉t҉e҉l҉y҉ ҉n҉o҉t҉.҉". He swapped back to his more charming persona. "She'll be joining our facility as an assistant!" His tone admitted no further questioning, and, quite reluctantly, the staff and guests left the room.

So that's the story about how you ended working in the Hazbin Hotel.

Your work was mainly small chores or helping others. Nifty needed help to clean the rooms? You were there. Someone needed you to take cover at the reception? On it. Whatever tiny task someone needed help with, you had to do it.

You were not allowed to leave the hotel. Alastor made sure of that. Wherever you went, he made sure some of his shadows followed if he was not around, just to keep you controlled; although he'd rather call it, 'lovingly checking on his little baby'. It really was not needed, even if you didn't trust nobody there and your guard was still up, where else would you go? It was literal hell outside.

Years of hiding and living in constant fear of death or something worse had left you extremely mistrustful and fearful of people. There were times were you believed this was all a ruse to lure you into a false sense of security and then hit you were it hurt most.

It's not like you didn't believe in Charlie's dream, it was just you couldn't believe it could be possible, your father had very sincerely stated that he was just sponsoring it because he loved watching doomed souls struggle to achieve something meaningful and then fail spectacularly. Of course he did.

So, at least you had a roof over your head, enough food to eat, and a no-killing rule inside the hotel. Things could be worse.

Yet, there was still something inside you, something that you so desperately tried to let go but were unable to, as it had rooted itself deeply inside your mind and heart.

It started with small things, maybe a loud sound, maybe a bit of blood, it didn't matter because you could already feel yourself breathing heavily and sweating. It was like the entire world vanished around you. You couldn't breath, you couldn't think, your mind was on edge and your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. You were completely paralized with fear, your hands shaking furiously, making you drop whatever you were holding.

These episodes started becoming more and more frequent, the more you tried to fight against them, the stronger they became. Whenever Charlie, Vaggie or any guest tried to ask you about them you always tried to brush them off, not wanting them to see it as a weak spot to exploit.

After several episodes and you refusing to open yourself, Alastor had enough of watching you suffer and decided to take matters into his own hands. So, he took you to Rosie.

If you expected something out of a place called 'Cannibal Town' it certainly wasn't that. It looked so... normal, like any other town you would have found back in your time. Well, if you ignored the people eating an entire corspe on the street. Your father gently moved your face to face front, because apparently it was rude to stare.

Oh Rosie immediately adored you. 100% godmother material. That southern belle couldn't wait to pamper you and dress you up in all kinds of fancy clothes.

Talking to Rosie was surprisingly, easy, if you looked over her cannibalistic tendencies. She kindly offered you some fresh fingers, but quickly backed up when she saw you turning green, jokingly saying "Ah, teenagers and their diets."

Sessions with Rosie always left you crying and drained but in a positive way, you felt like a huge load had been lifted off your shoulders. It may be a long road ahead but it was a great start.

Talking to Vaggie also helped. Turns out being a former exterminator had left not only physical but psychological scars on her. The first months after she had been left to die in hell had also been very struggling for her. She helped you with breathing exercises, held your hands when they started shaking, and even was willing to teach you some self defence. Which your dad opposed to.

Charlie was... Charlie, always positive and upbribing but also respecting your boundaries, you were almost starting to belive she was being genuine.

There was another member of the staff who had not been present when you were first brought there and you had yet to meet. The King of Hell himself, Lucifer. Just knowing he could be there send shivers down your spine, wondering what kind of diabolical entity could he be. When you first saw that 4' overly excited manchild, at first you thought it was a joke.

Lucifer took a liking to you pretty easily, much to the annoyance of Alastor. He was curious about how someone as innocent and young as you could have ended in a place like that and vowed to protect you if someone ever gave you trouble. Your dad is seething. "Here, take this." And he just gives you a toy duck who backflips and makes the cutest rubber ducky noise. You loved it. Your dad is about to break the no-killing rule.

Alastor tried to win back your trust and love, even if he knew it was going to be a long and arduous task. He didn't care. He just got you back he was never letting you go.

He may not believe entirely in Charlie's dream, but he knew that if it was possible the one who had more chances to go straight to Heaven would be you. And he was not having that.

Alastor briefly considered making a deal to own your soul, just to ensure your safety and his control.

Up to this day he still doesn't know how you ended down there, and can't wait for the day when you will trust him enough to tell him.

He will respect your boundaries begrudgingly, he is your dad, he knows best. Will play nice and let you take your time with things. He will quietly show support for your emotional progress and make light physical contact, just enough to be supportive and not freak you out.

He cooks for you, and only you. The old homemade grandma's recipes he used to make back in your living times. At first, you didn't trust it, thinking he could have poisoned it. But the second you tasted his Jambalaya you felt like crying. Not only because after ninety years barely eating you were famished, but because for a couple of seconds, something there in the taste and smell had brought you back to simpler times. (like the Ratatouille guy)

Alastor truly desires to hear you call him 'Dad' again, you had yet to do so. Yes, you recognise him as your father, but after everything it just pains you to address him as such. It's like your dad and Alastor were two separate people. The loving father vs the serial killer, the guardian vs the Radio Demon.

He really loves you very much and it's been hard on him to keep that much distance from his little fawn. So he takes out his frustration on others, don't turn the radio on when he tells you not to.

And with time, his efforts were rewarded. Somewhat. You seemed to have gotten a bit more comfortably around him, at least you didn't flinch or recoil anytime he approached you. But you couldn't forget, you couldn't overlook the fact that he was a murderer and a cannibal and still doubted if anything you two had lived together had been truly genuine.

Honestly, it offended him that you would even think that way. Wasn't he there for you, always? Didn't he protect you from the darkness of the outside world during your living times? Wasn't he, as a father, devoted enough to his fawn?

But of course, actions spoke louder than words, and his actions had left too many cracks in your trust. But he will keep trying to win you back. Alastor's very patient demon, he has all the time in the world.

Y̸̗͉̺̱͂̕o̸̧̯̞̟̰̪̗̱̳̱̎̈̿̄̄͛̅͝͝û̴̦͔̹͈̣̥̾͛͑͗͋̅̏̂̚ͅ ̷̭͋̈͛̽͒̅̀̈́́̚ă̷̢̢̖̦͕̞͚͔̻̳̅̇̃͌̿͐̄̃̕r̵̨̢̺̦͇͚̙̈́̅̽́̊͠ę̶̺̖͋̐͐͌͘͠͝ ̶̖̲͎̜̮͚͉̰̒n̵̢͕̝͖̗̜̣̾̾̇̾̅̽͊͘ǫ̴̼̺̠̱̦̘̒̈̎̿̇́̔̉t̴͙͇̼̱̻̦̦͔̖͙̍͌ ̸̩̂́̎͒͘g̶͔͚̰̺͔͉͓͍͔̈́̽̈́͋͘͜o̵̹͔̫͚̼͚͒͑į̷̧̫͔̹͉̰̘̮̍͋͒̈n̸̢͕̙̙̞͔̓͐̓ͅg̵͖͇̜͚̗͙̤̫̱̝̉̂́̚ ̴̪̂͑̓̊͛a̷̖̞͊̄̈́͑͋̈́̄͘n̶̻̟̙̝̪̩͂̋͗ẏ̸̨̛̱̱͇̱͖̤͕̥͛́̍̂͛̕͠w̸̛̖͎̫̑h̵͔̝̣̀ẹ̵̝͍̳̟͚̪̍̒͋̒̀̊̏r̷̨͉͉̒̑̉̒̄̎̓̎͜͝͠ȅ̸̩͇̳.̵̠̪̖̍͂͠.

[veryberryjelly]

🍸 prompt 5 or 6 with james potter maybe?

james potter x reader

prompts ; ' wait don't go, please' + " is this okay ?" " its more than okay "

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 !

afternoons spent lounging on james' bed under his cover with delicate and soft kisses being exchanged for hours were your favourite way to spend your weekends.

sometimes you two could go hours without anything being said, just basking in the warmth of each others company.

only today it had been spent slipping in and out of light sleep due to a party going very late last night in the common room.

you had only been awake a few moments when james roused beside you, his head moving to bury in the crook of your neck which only brought a smile to your lips

" morning sleepy head " you said softly, turning slightly to wrap your arms around the boy.

" time is it ? " he questioned, his voice groggy and his eyes struggling to open as he looked up at you.

" quarter to two " you replied, one of your hands lifting to thread through his curls.

" you think we should get up any time soon ?"

" in your dreams am i letting you up "

his words caused a soft laugh to bubble past your lips. you tilted your head to press a kiss onto the top of his head, your arms wrapping slightly tighter around him before you settled.

you were on the verge of falling into another light sleep when you heard the door to james' dorm open and both of your eyes flitted to the door and were greeted with the familiar sight of remus and sirius.

" - could just live above the shop, moony. it might be the only way i'll never be- oh, hello there, didnt mean to interrupt lovebirds "

you were unsure what the beginning of that conversation was but that didnt matter too much. remus and sirius headed to the bed across the room, both sitting on the edge looking over at yourself and james.

your instinct kicked in and you sat up, pulling a sweater over your head.

" you didn't interrupt, i was about to head back to my dorm, i need to shower "

you weren't shy about pda, but you whenever someone walked in on you and james in his bed, you felt out of place. this was their dorm and you felt like you were imposing.

as you moved to slide out of bed james' strong arms wrapped around your torso, halting your effort to get up.

" wait, don't go, please, you can shower here " james pleaded, his tired eyes gleaming up at you in a way that made it almost impossible to say no to him

you lowered your hand down and brushed some curls from your lovers face.

" i'll see you later, jamie, i promise " the hurt on his face might be subtle to anyone else but to you it was practically painted across his face in big black letters.

" i hate it when you have to go back to your dorm- " he admitted, his gaze dropping down to the mattress, his sadness obviously presented in the way he fiddled with the sheets between his fingers.

" i know, but all of my stuff is there, i live there, baby "

" move your stuff here " he blurted out causing disbelief to appear on your face and your sure on the faces of james friends. " i hate it when you leave, baby. i want to sleep with you every night and wake up to you every morning...come stay here " his voice sounded almost desperate and you wanted to melt at his sincerity.

" jamie, you're asking me to move in here when you live with three other people..." you loved waking up with james, the sight of his bed head along was enough to want to sleep with him every night. but he lived with three other people, including another couple.

james finally sat up in the bed and focused his eyes on you. " darling, is that something you would want, yes or no "

" yes, theoretica-"

" is that okay ?" he brought his gaze over to the two boys on the opposite side of the room.

there was a few moments of silence where glances were exchanged between the two boys, but the grins on their faces gave you your answer before they spoke up.

" it's more than okay. we can help you move your stuff tomorrow if you want "

you could feel the joy beaming off of james beside you before you even turned to look at him, but when you did he had a shit eating grin on his face, his bottom lip caught between his teeth waiting for your answer.

" ok, yes, i'll move in "

the minute your answer fell from your lips you were tackled by the boy into one of the most passionate hugs he had ever given you. it wasnt long before remus and sirius jumped in too, their arms wrapping around the two of you.

" welcome to the dorm...don't wake us up in the middle of the night with sex noises "

[kenananamin]

Fun-sized best friend

Summary: After seeing you cry at a post about a dog being put down soon, Nanami reaches out to adopt the dog. It'd be the first time you both have a pet together, but it should be fine... right? fluff fluff fluff, nanami x fem!reader

Nanami is driving back home while you giggle in the passengers seat. You're holding a fluffy dog that is wriggling all over your lap and licking anything around it.

He looks over at your happy face and smiles, but looks down to the dog and sighs. You were on the verge of tears last night after seeing an ad for the dog. She's a three-legged dog who was removed from her previous owner's care. She had a couple more days before she would be put down and that last detailed pushed you over the edge of teary eyes. Nanami comforted you as best he could and messaged the account while you showered. After he heard the water turn off, he entered the bathroom and told you the news about the dog no longer being put down because she'd have a home soon.

Seeing your happiness in the car told him he made the right decision but this was the first time he'd adopted a dog. Nanami always considered himself a cat person but he would do anything for you... including trying to adjust to a hyper dog.

"This shouldn't be too hard," you tell Nanami after seeing his nervous glances towards your new companion, "she's only got three legs."

Nanami looks over half in horror and half in surprise that you'd say something like that.

His reaction makes you burst out in laughter, "I'm kidding! I'm really kidding! But we will be fine, she'll have so much love and attention and everything she needs. I'll give her everything I can," you lean to hold his hand, "thank you Ken. Really, thank you."

Nanami intertwines his fingers with yours and smiles back, "Love you, darling."

———

Nanami opens the fridge to grab Emi's food. You called to let him know you were going to be home late and asked if he could feed Emi and take her on her walk. He looks down to see her looking up at him and patiently waiting. Emi was very calm around Nanami and would quietly follow him around compared to running circles around you.

Emi finishes her food and Nanami grabs the harness. She starts jumping after seeing the harness and it takes him a second to put it on. Emi pulls their way out the door and Nanami hurries to lock the door and start their first walk without you.

You come home and hear Nanami grunting in the bathroom.

"No!" Nanami yells followed by quick steps.

Emi runs out the bathroom, shaking the water off her and running towards you. Nanami throws the door open, the bottom of his shirt and parts of his pants completely soaked.

"Were you bathing Emi?" You ask while you rub and pat your fun-sized best friend.

Nanami sighs and puts his hands on his hips, "Yeah, she saw a puddle and decided to jump in and got us both dirty."

You laugh and stand up to go give Nanami a hug and kiss. Emi lays down and starts rubbing all over the small living room carpet while mom and dad have a moment.

———

"I'm so sorry, all these deadlines are killing the team."

Nanami nods as he watches you rub your eyes on your facetime call, "It's ok, but can you call me as soon as you're leaving? Or call me if it gets too late, I'll pick you up and we'll get your car later."

"I'll call you when I'm done. I love you, Kenny. Byee my wittle Emi, mommy wuves youuu!!" You hang up the call and Nanami looks over to the dog that seems to be smiling.

"How come you get the baby voice?" Nanami and Emi stare at each other until she moves onto his lap. Nanami keeps staring and slowly lifts his hand to pet her.

The house is dark when you open the door. You got out much later than expected and walk into the living room to see a sleeping Kento sprawled on the couch and Emi tucked into his side. Emi was awake and looking at you, but did not move from her cuddle. You grab the blanket draped behind the other couch and cover your two loves.

———

You wake up early Saturday to a quiet house. Nanami had been taking Emi to her morning walks alone to let you sleep in after your long work days. It had been over two weeks since your team had to absorb another team's workload after that team was dissolved. It would only be a few more days of this and then you'd be back to your regular schedule.

Nanami and Emi come back home while you're making your tea.

"Welcome home!" You yell out as Emi runs to you while her whole body moves with her waggling tail. Nanami follows suit and goes to kiss your forehead. He's holding a large paper bag, bulky with whatever was inside.

You raise your eyebrows at the bag and Nanami puts it down on the counter, "We went to the pet store for another harness since she's outgrowing this one."

"That looks like much more than a harness," you laugh and peek into the bag, "toys? Ken, is this whole bag is full of dog toys??!"

Nanami freezes and slowly backs away from the bag and you, "Emi kept looking at them. She likes toys." He whispered and Emi stands on her leg to lick his hand.

You stare at the frozen man and dog who left your side for his. You sit on the floor to call Emi back over, but she looks between you and Nanami and sits by his side. Your jaw drops and Nanami leans down to carefully push Emi to you.

———

You park your car and lean your head back. Finally, you were finally back home at a regular time. You pick up the grocery bags and start to head inside, excited to surprise Nanami with the first full dinner you've made in weeks.

You open the front door, smiling at the thought of his surprised face as you come home early. You see Kento and Emi sitting on the couch. His face definitely expressed that he was surprised... but so were you.

Kento was holding Emi on his lap, fixing a homemade matching collar and tie on her neck. He froze with his hands around her neck when he heard the door start to open. He opens his mouth to try to explain what's happening but you fall to your knees with the grocery bags, cackling at the scene.

There are scraps of fabric, scissors and a sewing kit on the center table. You can't see much besides that past the tears in your eyes and you fall to your back and hold your face in your hands, trying to control the laughter.

"I can explain," Nanami says from the couch but it makes you laugh even harder.

Emi walks to you and you finally sit up to closely look at Nanami's work of art. You knew he was good at sewing as he's helped fix a couple things before but this was something you could have never imagined he would make.

"I was fixing my tie this morning and she was sitting in front of me, staring. I don't know why but I started wondering what she'd look like with a little tie so I went to the store during my lunch break and started making this..." Nanami sits beside you on the floor as he explains. You pet Emi with one hand and hold the handmade tie with the other.

He used his lunch break to buy and start making this. You were so convinced when he adopted Emi that he'd just take a backseat with raising and taking care of her, which you were fine with since you both knew you were the dog person in this relationship. Seeing him do so much for her made you laugh at your initial thoughts but it warmed your heart to see so much love for the fur bundle you both considered your fun-sized best friend.

"You know, seeing you both with ties makes me realize you look so much alike," you tell Nanami as you straighten Emi's collar.

"She's got my tie but she's got your eyes," Kento gets closer, holds your neck and leans in to kiss you.

You slap his chest at his comment but he laughs and continues to kiss you as you both shift on the floor to face each other. Emi starts to jump between the both of you and barks for your attention. Nanami grabs a nearby toy without backing away from the kiss and throws it across the room to distract Emi.

Nanami breaks the kiss and looks into your eyes, "I didn't get to say it earlier, but welcome home, baby. We're happy to have you home on time."

The fact that he includes Emi on the statement and says they're both happy makes you laugh yet again. Emi runs back with her toy and is back to jumping around the both of you. There really is no place like home.

a/n: I can see nanami doing something like this too in the story lol

Picture found here

[myadmiringmind]

Days at Home | Peeta Mellark

Peeta Mellark Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4k

Genre: Domestic fluff | slice of life

Pairing(s): Peeta Mellark x Fem!Wife!Reader

Summary: A simple life has never felt so sweet.

Warning(s): Children (some ppl don’t like them), food, non-sexual nudity

Note(s):

Can be read as AU or not

Established relationship

Peeta and reader have children

Reader is able to have children

Children call reader “Mom”

|PICTURES ARE NOT MINE|

———————————————

You blink, your brain foggy in your half conscious state.

All you can see is darkness, but register the familiar warmth beneath you. Immediately you know it’s Peeta. His chest rises and falls as he sleeps peacefully with his arm curled around you protectively, keeping you close to him.

Peeta is always warm. Which doesn’t hurt now that fall has begun, but it does make it harder to leave in the mornings.

You snuggle up into him, your face going into his neck. Everything about him makes you feel at home.

Even though you try to fall back asleep you know it won’t happen. You savor the last few moments before you’ll push yourself out of bed.

But when you try to get up, Peeta’s arms tighten.

“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice is laced with sleep and you know he’s only barely awake.

“I’m going to get a shower.” You answer quietly

“What?” He uses his other hand to rub his eyes as he struggles through the haziness of sleep.

“I’m going to get a shower.” You repeat a little louder.

Peeta looks over at the curtains to glance outside, “The sun isn’t up yet. We can sleep for a couple more hours.”

You shake your head, the fact that he won’t be able to see it not present in your thoughts, “I tried, but I’m already awake. Go back to bed, honey.” Carefully moving off of his chest, you retreat back to your side of the bed.

Peeta protests, “Can’t sleep without you.”

“You sure? It’s pretty early.” You say with guilt from disrupting his rest.

Peeta’s nod is barely noticeable in the dark, “Maybe the shower will wake me up.”

You hear the bed creak, Peeta’s loud footsteps, and then the overhead light is turned on.

You flinch from the sudden brightness and hear Peeta chuckle, “Sorry, baby.” He sounds amused.

The sound of his heavy footsteps fill the otherwise quiet room while you rub your eyes.

You feel the familiar roughness of Peeta’s hand tilt your head up and give you a loving kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll go start the shower.” He says before disappearing into the ensuite bathroom.

You use the little time alone to pick out an outfit. You lay it out on the small ottoman at the end of your bed next to the outfit that Peeta chose for himself the night before. You laugh quietly at seeing the simple white button up with tan pants. He barely gets cold in fall.

“Better hurry unless we want to waste all of the hot water, sweetheart.” Peeta teases from the bathroom door.

-------------------

You and Peeta have been together for a little over ten years, so it’s only natural for the two of you to move in such a way that is familiar and routinely.

Peeta always lets you step into the shower first, he lets you soak under the warm water before it’s his turn. Then, he’ll pull you into his chest for a sweet hug, just letting the two of you bask into the warmth of each other. He’s constantly giving you kisses, on your shoulder, your neck, and your face.

One time, you were running late for an event and had the misfortune of a quick shower. The usual intimacy the two of you shared was skipped over leaving the both of you feeling a little more uneasy than normal.

In fact, it seemed to be the only thing driving Peeta’s mind that day as he would make little comments about his day not starting off right whenever given the chance.

It didn’t matter that the two of you were exhausted by the end of the day. The bath was still ran, and the two of you relaxed in there to make up for what you lost in the morning, even though both of you were on the verge of sleep.

The memory of that day effectively reminds you just how much the small moments you spend together matter to you.

Back in the present, Peeta’s hands rubbed up and down your back, making you shiver.

Your shower routine was done before you could properly savor it and Peeta was wrapping the soft towel around your body, keeping you warm after stepping out into the cool air.

“We have a few hours until the kids are up, what’s on your mind?” Peeta asks, rubbing your arms for extra warmth.

“Food.” You answer immediately.

Peetas laugh echos in your bathroom and your eyes catch his grin through the mirror.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

———————————

Peeta is an expert in the kitchen.

You’re not bad, but it’s obvious which one of you is better. You can’t really complain, anything Peeta makes you love. Maybe it’s because he grew up as a baker, maybe it’s because he puts love into everything he does, or maybe it’s just because you adore him.

You can’t say that it was a quiet morning, with constant chatter between you two, laughs, and kisses, it wasn’t at all quiet.

While your breakfast is in the pan, Peeta puts on a record containing music from your wedding. He sways with you, grinning at each other even when you're moving too slow for an upbeat song.

“The little ones will be up soon.” You comment, seeing the time on the clock.

Peeta’s arms wrap around your waist, his head on your shoulder, still swaying slightly, “Good, I don’t want to have to reheat the food for them.”

It was a classic breakfast. Fluffy chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, bacon, bread, jam (that you made from your fruit garden), and of course the bowls of fruit that you had picked freshly this morning.

“We should go wake them up then.” You said

You felt Peeta’s nod as he pulled you up the stairs.

—————————

Your eldest slept peacefully. You almost felt bad waking him up.

You moved to open the curtains, letting the natural light into his bedroom. You saw him stir at the unfiltered light.

“Hey bud, it’s time to wake up.” Peeta whispered, gently shaking him.

Your seven year old clutched his deer stuffed-animal closer to his body.

You walked over, and sat on the edge so you could shake him.

“Rise and shine, honey.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Slowly but surely, his eyes slowly opened.

“Dad?” He noticed you next, “Mom….is it time to get up already.” He mumbled

Peeta chuckled softly, “Yeah bud, we’ve got the whole day ahead.”

Your son only yawns in response.

“We made breakfast.” You offer, and your son pauses.

“What kind of breakfast?” He asks

“Pancakes, bacon, bread, jam, the whole feast.” Peeta answers

“Okay.” He pushes back the covers and stretches once he stands.

He gives Peeta a hug and a kiss first, then you bend down so he can give you one too.

“Let’s go wake up your sister.” You say, following your son out of his bedroom door with Peeta close behind you.

Your seven year old shuffles with his stuffed animal still in his arms. Your daughter's room isn’t far so it doesn’t take long before you’re standing outside her bedroom door.

Your son does a short courtesy knock before he opens up the door.

Like your eldests room, the curtains are drawn and the room is mostly dark. Your son immediately goes to his sister's side while you make your way over to the curtains.

Like your son, your daughter scrunches her face when the light pours in. You laugh quietly at how similar they look.

Your son whispers his sister's name and shakes her a little roughly.

“Be a little gentler, bud.” Peeta advises

The boy listens and shakes her again.

Your daughter lets out a little whine at being woken up.

“It’s time to get up, there’s breakfast downstairs.” Your son says softly, gazing at his little sister with expectation.

Your daughter tears up a bit at the idea of getting up.

“Good morning, honey.” You say, coming up beside your son, and kneeling down.

Peeta sits on the edge of the bed and gives your daughter a kiss on the forehead. You move some hair out of her face.

“Don’t wanna get up.” Your four year old cries.

“But how else are you gonna eat pancakes?” You ask, caressing her cheek affectionately. Internally, you coo at how precious she looks, even in her teary state. One glance at Peeta and you know he’s doing the same.

She looks at you in thought, obviously debating her options.

When she makes up her mind, she looks over at Peeta and raises her arms up, “Daddy!”

Peeta chuckles and effortlessly lifts her up into his arms.

“Let's go get your little brother up.” Peeta says softly to the two of them.

This time Peeta is the first out of the room with your daughter in his arms, then your son, and you right behind him.

When you were just outside of your youngests room, you see your daughter wiggle in Peeta’s arms, an obvious sign that she wanted down.

Your eldest, once again, gave a little knock on the bedroom door, and you even heard a happy giggle on the other side of the door.

“Come on, open it!” Your daughter urged her brother impatiently.

“I am!” He responded with a bit of frustration in his voice.

Peeta wrapped his arm around your waist and chuckled while you both watched them enter your youngests room.

Your one year old son was standing up in his crib with a happy smile on his face.

Your son and daughter ran over and said a chorus of good mornings.

You walked over and pulled your youngest out of his crib. Once you placed him on the ground he was given a couple hugs and kisses from his older siblings.

“Let’s go downstairs and eat bekfest!” Your daughter said, not quite pronouncing ‘breakfast’ correctly.

“Hold my hand.” Your eldest held out his free hand to his brother. But the younger just walked past him.

“Doesn’t seem like he wants to hold your hand right now, but you can hold mine!” You grinned teasingly, holding out your hand.

“I get to hold your hand all the time.” Your son dismissed already making his way towards his brother, ready to demand for him to hold his hand.

“I’ll hold your hand.” Peeta offered you, grinning as well.

“Who’s gonna hold my hand?” Your daughter cried, suddenly very distraught by the thought of no one holding her hand.

Peeta stooped down and picked her up with a little spin, causing her to giggle.

“I’ll hold you in one arm, and your mom’s hand in the other.” Peeta tickled her, drawing more giggles out of her.

“Sounds good to me.” You said walking over to the two blondes.

“Let us go down first mom and dad.” Your eldest told you, finally getting his brother to hold his hand.

“After you, bud.” Peeta encouraged, grabbing your hand and grinning at his daughter.

———————————

Breakfast was a blur of catering and attempted food fights. It only stopped when your seven year old declared he was going to get dressed and your daughter followed after him claiming that she wanted to get dressed too.

“I’d say that was a successful breakfast.” Peeta commented while eating a few pieces of fruit.

“I’m just glad they didn’t ask for cereal instead.” You laughed, taking the dirty dishes over to the sink. Since Peeta did most of the cooking you agreed to do most of the dishes.

“Mom!” Your daughter's voice cried

You were at the bottom of the stairs in a second, "What is it?” You questioned, scanning her for injuries.

“I can’t get this shirt on!” Her tiny lip wobbled from the top of the stairs, arms craned upward from where they were stuck in her shirt.

“Okay, I can help. Do you want my help?” Your shoulders relaxed at seeing her unharmed state.

Your daughter nodded.

“Everything okay?” Peeta asked, holding your youngest in his arms, the toddler nomming on a piece of fruit.

“Wardrobe malfunction.” You answered, climbing up the stairs.

Peeta nodded and went back into the kitchen.

“I don’t like this shirt.” Your daughter commented as you eased it off of her.

“You wanna pick out another one?” You asked, smoothing down the messy blonde hair on her head.

Your daughter nodded eagerly running towards bedroom, with renewed enthusiasm.

———————

You’d admit that you weren’t originally the most ecstatic at the idea of building a sandbox. The idea of having to clean all the sand off of them still gives you chills. However, it keeps them entertained and happy so you decide it’s worth it.

You and your husband laid on a picnic blanket, Peeta’s back against a tree and you in his arms.

It had been decided that since you were already planning on spending most of the day outside, you might as well eat lunch outside, hence the picnic supplies.

Now, the picnic basket that’s used more than you could’ve ever imagined is closed, all its contents drained except for your water bottles.

With fall your flowers and trees were going dormant for the winter, and you were already brainstorming flowers to plant in the spring.

“I’m thinking of Marigolds.” You comment after internal debate.

“Those are pretty.” Peeta says while stroking your hair.

“Do you think the kids will want to plant some?” You ask, looking up at him.

Peeta shrugs, “I think they will, but you can ask.”

You let your gaze shift to the horizon and notice the sun going down.

“Should we bring them inside for dinner?” You ask quietly, as if any louder would disturb the peace.

“No. Let’s watch the sunset first.” He kisses your cheek

——————————

To no one's surprise your children were quite hungry. They ate so quickly you were worried they were going to choke.

After they were done they were already exhausted, which made it quite the challenge to get them to take their baths.

Your daughter nearly fell asleep while you helped her change into her pajamas.

Then, before you could give her a single kiss she was out like a light, snuggling into her blankets.

Your sons waited patiently for their kisses. Though, you could see your youngest fighting sleep. Luckily, he wasn’t fighting for very long. After hugs and kisses from both of his parents he was out like his sister.

Your eldest was the last to be tucked in, enjoying his hugs and kisses while the three of you chatted a little bit about how the day went.

One thing is for sure, they will be well rested by tomorrow morning.

As soon as you quietly closed the door to your eldests room, Peeta pulled you into a hug.

He swayed the both of you lightly, making you want to fall asleep in his arms. You had done your own share of running around today.

He pulled back with a kiss on your cheek but didn't remove his arms.

"I love you." He said quietly

"I love you too." You replied with no hesitation.

"Thank you." Peeta said, confusing you a little bit.

"For what?"

"For giving me a better life than I could've dreamed of, for allowing me to wake up next to you everyday, for loving me."

You kissed his cheek, "I couldn't not love you. I can't imagine another person who could make me as happy as you do, or make me feel as loved as you do." 

Peeta's smile was so big and full of emotion that it made your heart soar, "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. No matter how short or long, I want to spend it with you."

"Well that's good because I also want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Peeta chuckled, "It's cute you think I'd ever let you go." He teased

"Just shut up and kiss me."

"Anything for you, sweetheart."

———————

edited in 07/24/2024

[library-ghoulette]

Now There Is Nothing Between Us

Pairing: Copia (Papa Emeritus IV) x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: second person POV, established relationship, VHS and chill, their first time, my kink is being loved and wanted, crying, reference to past heartbreak, hurt/comfort, discussion of sexual fantasies, pillow princess!Reader, oral sex (f receiving), handjob, p in v sex, coming inside (please fuck responsibly), Copia being tender, Copia fucking the self-doubt right out of you

Words: 2435

Summary: Anxieties about your first time with Copia rear their head at the worst possible moment, but luckily he knows just how to ease your fears.

A/N: I wrote this because I was stressing out about writing sex scenes for the first time in a long time, and I thought it might help to have my favorite Papa sweetly talk me through it. This was supposed to just be for me, but I'm sharing it for anyone else who needs a therapy session with their smut.

ao3 link

divider by @gothdaddyissues

“Amore mio, what’s wrong?”

The question takes you by surprise. You were mid-kiss when Copia pulled back, his mismatched eyes searching yours with concern.

“N-nothing’s wrong,” you stammer, reaching for him again, eager to pull him back in, keep his mouth occupied, so he can ask no more questions.

But he stubbornly avoids your advances, catching your hands in his and holding them between the two of you, restrained. He settles onto the pillow beside you, face-to-face.

“You think I know you so little that you can lie to me?” he asks. “That I can’t feel it when you’re all stiff?”

He pulls his shoulders up and grimaces in a comically horrified expression that makes you smile in spite of yourself, but still you say nothing, merely look down at where he holds your hands clasped in his much larger, much stronger, ones. He runs a reassuring thumb over your knuckles.

It was supposed to be a special night. At long last, it was supposed to be the night.

The two of you had gone from stealing glances at one another in the halls of the Abbey, to sharing friendly movie nights where you sat on opposite sides of the couch, both too timid to make a move, to significantly friendlier movie nights that devolved into heated kisses long before the end credits even rolled.

Each night, there would come a moment where the kiss would break, when a heavy pause descended and there came an unspoken question that you knew you had to answer.

Every night before, the answer has been no. You would remark on the lateness of the hour and go back to your own room. And there you lay awake, burning with thoughts of all of the things you could have done if only you had stayed. All the places where Copia could kiss you, could touch you, as you touched yourself.

But not tonight. This time, when that silent question made itself known, the answer had been yes. You had stayed, followed Copia to his bed, let him lay you down with a gentleness that spoke of brutal desire barely contained. Pressed yourself against him, returned his kisses, helped him shrug out of his sweatshirt and pulled his T-shirt over his head with obvious eagerness. You had thought that you were doing well, doing it right.

Apparently, you had been wrong.

Great. Now you’re on the verge of tears. Very sexy. Definitely not a surefire way to spoil the mood.

Copia is still looking at you, his unpainted face soft, searching, utterly open. You don’t deserve his attentiveness, his care. It makes you want to hide.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He kisses your knuckles. “You are maybe having second thoughts?”

“No! No, I– I really want to do this.”

“But something is bothering you. And we’re not doing anything until you tell me what that is. Until we fix it.”

Why does he have to be like this? Why can’t he just let it go? 

“Tesoro, you can tell me anything. You know this.”

Copia has never given you a reason to distrust him, has never judged you or made you feel silly for any of your anxieties. Still, you struggle to put this into words. 

“I don’t know. I’m just a little nervous, I guess?”

I sound so dumb.

“It’s okay to be nervous! Is this…”--he casts about for a tactful phrasing–”your first time?”

Satanas, it just gets worse and worse.

“No, it’s not my first time. But it’s been… awhile.”

“What’s the saying? Something about riding a bicycle?”

But in truth, it’s more than just the fact that it’s been awhile. Things did not end well with the last person you chose to share yourself with. 

You’ve worked so hard to heal from that relationship, not reinventing yourself so much as peeling back layers of hurt, finding yourself again bit by bit. You’re better now. But even after all of that healing, after finding your place here with the Ministry, after the wonderful surprise of falling for Copia, the scars of the past have a way of lingering.

Maybe the deepest of those scars is the lingering suspicion that no matter what you do, no one will ever truly want you or love you again. And worse, that you can’t trust anyone who claims that they do.

“It’s just.. I’ve imagined this so many times, and I guess I’ve gotten a bit too in my head about it. Wanting it to be perfect. And I’m afraid of doing something wrong. Of not”--and here’s the heart of it, the scary, vulnerable thing that you don’t want to admit–“of not being good enough for you.”

And now you are crying, when all you wanted to do was fuck your boyfriend like a normal person.

“Oh, topina.” Copia pulls you close, rolling onto his back to nestle you snug against his chest. “How could you ever think that you’re not good enough?”

“But you could have anyone you want,” you sob.

“You flatter me,” Copia chuckles. “But say that is true. I can have anyone I want. And where am I right now?”

“Here?”

“Yes, here. And who am I with?”

You sniffle. “Me?”

“Yes, you. And there is no one else I would rather be with. You are so precious to me. I feel lucky to have you in my bed.”

Your heart flutters at his tender words.

“And what I want, more than anything, is to make you feel good. To give you the pleasure that you deserve.”

Something considerably lower flutters at that.

“Copia…” 

You wriggle out of his grasp and pull yourself up onto one elbow, one hand resting lightly on his chest as you bend to kiss him again. 

When you break away, he thumbs a stray tear from your cheek and insists, “But I only want to do that if you’re comfortable. So you have to tell me if something makes you uncomfortable, yes?”

You nod down at him. “Yes, Papa.”

He groans low in his throat at your cheeky use of his title, the sound stoking something low in your belly.

“You said that you have been thinking about this night for a long time, tesoro?” 

His hand, resting against your hip, grips you tighter, drawing you closer against him. When he speaks, his words resonate with a note of command. 

“Tell me what you’ve imagined. Tell me how to make this perfect for you.”

This should be mortifying. It should, more than anything else he’s said tonight, activate your urge to run away, to hide. It’s been so long since you’ve really given yourself permission to want, to desire, much less to voice those desires full-throated, absent of shame. You’re so afraid of sounding silly. Of being too much.

But you can tell how turned on he is by you, by the way that your body feels pressed against his, fuck, by the very thought of you entertaining filthy daydreams about him. He wants you. Just as much as you want him.

And so, you push past the shame you have no need to carry any longer, that you never should have been made to carry at all.

Even if you stammer at first. Even if you don’t sound as confident as you wish you did. You find your voice.

“I– I’ve thought about you touching me?”

Copia brings a hand up to caress your face, tracing a feather-light line from cheekbone to chin. “Here?” he asks.

“Lower,” you reply.

“Ah.” His hand trails lower, making you shiver as his fingers skirt along your neck, your collarbone, before finally cupping your breast through your top. “How about here?”

Your mouth falls open in a gasp when he squeezes gently, his thumb sweeping across your nipple. Almost as an afterthought he wedges one thigh between your legs. Even through fabric the contact sends a pulse straight to your core, and you can’t help but grind against him with a whimper.

“What do I do next? In your fantasies?”

“You take off my clothes.” You’re desperate to feel his skin on yours. “And– and you lay me down on the bed.”

He flips you over effortlessly and takes his time undressing you, carefully undoing each button and zipper, revealing your body bit by bit with utmost tenderness. When he hooks his fingers over the waistband of your panties and pulls the silky fabric down your hips, your legs, exposing you completely, he does so with what could never be mistaken for anything but reverence.

Your legs fall open naturally and Copia kneels between them, resting his hands on your thighs, awaiting instruction.

“And now?”

You know that you can have anything you want, but only if you ask for it.

It’s everything you can do to keep your voice steady when you say, barely above a whisper, “And then you go down on me.”

“With pleasure, amore.”

Copia settles himself between your thighs and presses a hand against your mound, firm and grounding, acclimating you to his touch before spreading your lips with skilled fingers and bringing his mouth down to meet your slit. He runs the flat of his tongue up through your slick folds, lapping up your arousal. When you look down at him, he meets your gaze and flicks his tongue over your clit, smirking when you blush and cry out in pleasure.

And then he begins his work in earnest.

You had imagined that it would be good, but your daydreams left you unprepared for this level of skill, for how he would relax into the task before him with a patient eagerness, savoring you, taking the time to bring you ever closer to your peak. 

“Fingers,” you beg, barely coherent, “I need your fingers, please, please, Copia– oh!”

He finds your entrance and presses a finger inside of you, never losing the rhythm of his tongue tracing tight circles around your clit. You’re soaked, and it slides in and out with ease, and it feels so good to have any part of him inside of you, even before he pulls out and then presses back in with another digit, crooking his fingers up to find that spot deep inside of you, hitting it just so as he sucks your nub between his lips, and you’re crying out and twisting your fingers in his hair to pull him closer, and–

Your orgasm overtakes you ruthlessly, wave upon wave of pleasure breaking over you, leaving you a gasping, trembling mess in its wake. Copia crawls up your body to kiss you, letting you taste your own musky sweetness on his tongue.

“Do you want to hear what I’ve been thinking about?” he asks.

You’re unsure of your ability to speak, but you nod eagerly. You’ve never wanted to hear anything more.

“I’ve been thinking about your hands.”

“M-my hands?”

“Sì, your beautiful hands. And how good they would feel wrapped around me.”

How could you do anything in that moment but oblige, reaching down to free him from the confines of his red sweatpants. His cock springs free, what seems almost painfully hard, and you watch with satisfaction as you pump your fist up and down his thick length and pleasure nearly overtakes him. Eyes squeezed shut, he’s clearly struggling to hold back, to stop himself from rutting into your soft palm and coming right now. 

“I’ve also been thinking about your pussy, dolcezza,” he pants. “How good it would taste. How pretty you would look playing with it for me. But mostly what it would feel like to spread it open and fuck it until you come around my cock.”

“Yes, please,” you beg, feeling as though you might die if you don’t get to feel him inside you right now.

The stretch is deliciously intense, even as wet as you are, prepared by his fingers and his tongue. He works himself into you inch by careful, patient inch, until he bottoms out with a groan.

“Is this okay?” he asks, and you nod your assent, whimpering a “yes” as you wrap your legs around his soft waist, urging him on.

You open more and more with each slow, shallow thrust that becomes faster, deeper. There is no room for your self-doubt anymore, no thought to spare for anything that isn’t Copia: his weight on top of you, his mouth against the side of your neck, the scent of his cologne mingling with the salty tang of sweat, the overwhelming pressure of his cock inside of you. 

He murmurs your name with what sounds like wonder, like disbelief that you want this and that you feel so fucking good.

And then he rolls his hips just so, finding an angle that grinds his pelvis into your clit, making you cry out sharply.

“Just like that,” you beg him, breathless, “please don’t stop, please—“

And then you are coming apart again, your head thrown back and your pussy spasming beyond your control.

It’s almost too much for him. He rears back from you, gathering you more firmly in hand, tilting your hips up and gripping your ass to hold you in place as he fucks into you, hard and rough. You’re still reeling from your orgasm as his pace becomes erratic, desperate, and with a sharp snap of his hips his cock kicks inside of you, filling you utterly.

He pulls out and collapses beside you with a sated groan, forearm thrown over his eyes as he comes down, chest heaving, spent cock softening against the curve of his belly. You fold yourself in under his arm, head pillowed against his chest again in a semblance of how you lay earlier as you cried. But now all you feel is love, comfort, and the pleasant soreness creeping through your lower body.

“Well, tesoro…” He settles his arm around you, tracing lazy circles on your skin with the tip of his finger. His voice is unspeakably fond when he asks, “Was that everything you imagined?”

It wasn’t, of course. Your daydreams hadn’t started with you crying awkwardly in his arms. In your daydreams, everything had run as smoothly as a scene in a novel, you the assertive heroine who always knew exactly what to say, without any help.

But maybe, you think, if Copia is the one helping you, that’s okay. Maybe you don’t need to be anyone but yourself, sometimes awkward and insecure, but no less beloved.

And so you are telling the truth when you say, “No. It was better.”

[callmedaleelah]

— Pinnacle [ tsukishima kei university au series ]

— i’m seeing visions am i bad? ; take care of yourself and stop pulling those all nighters just because you have upcoming exams ahead, or you’ll end up in infirmary clinic—with the grumpy professor’ assistant

author’s notes : no mention of (y/n), written in second person pov, semi alternative universe, timeskip!tsukishima, college life, not proofread, english is not my first language

[ masterlist ] | [ ask daleelah go to box box 🐭 ]

The final semester exams were in full swing, and you were feeling the pressure more than ever. Every subject demanded your undivided attention, and as a first-year biochemistry major, failure was not an option. You pulled all-nighters, frantically cramming every piece of information from your textbooks into your brain. Fear of missing even a single fact kept you awake, but the stress took its toll. Meals were skipped, and the vitamins and tonics meant to keep you healthy were forgotten.

On the day of your organic chemistry exam, you felt especially drained. After scribbling down the last answer, you rushed to the library, searching for a quiet corner to study for the next exam, molecular biology. However, as you settled down, the pounding in your head became unbearable. Dizziness washed over you, and a sharp pain gnawed at your stomach. You realized with a start that you hadn’t eaten since last night, surviving only on an energy drink that morning.

Determined to push through, you tried to focus, but the pain worsened with every passing second. Defeated, you decided to head to the infirmary clinic near the library. As you walked, you felt the concerned stares of people passing by, noticing how pale and sickly you looked. You tried to brush it off, but by the time you reached the clinic, your body was on the verge of collapse.

A doctor approached you as soon as you entered, noticing your condition immediately. She moved quickly, guiding you to a bed. She began checking your condition, administering an injection to ease the pain and preparing an IV to replenish your strength. The curtains around the bed were left open in the rush, exposing you to the rest of the clinic.

“Do you feel any pain here?” she asked, pressing her palm gently to your abdomen.

You nodded, unable to speak, a small whimper escaping your lips as the pain intensified. Your mind was in a haze, each throb of pain pulling you further from reality.

Meanwhile, Tsukishima was in the clinic as well, getting his hands wrapped in bandages before volleyball practice. His gaze shifted to the source of the painful whimpers, and his heart clenched when he saw you lying on the bed. The sight of you in such a fragile state unnerved him in a way he didn’t expect.

“Oh, Tsukishima, are you done with the bandages? You can place the box on my table,” the doctor said while tending to you.

Tsukishima was confused but couldn’t tear his eyes away from your pained expression, your hand gripping your abdomen as if to ward off the agony. He felt an unfamiliar concern bubbling up inside him, and it bothered him how deeply it affected him.

“What happened to her?” he asked, his tone unusually soft. He didn’t understand why he felt compelled to know, why seeing you like this made him feel so uneasy.

“Do you know her?” the doctor replied. “She came in a few minutes ago, nearly collapsing. It looks like she has a stomach ache due to high stomach acid, likely from skipping meals and excessive stress.” She finished setting up the IV, and your whimpers finally ceased as you began to calm down.

Tsukishima placed the box on the table as instructed but found himself returning to your side. The doctor noticed his concern and, knowing him as a university athlete, asked if he needed to leave for practice.

But Tsukishima didn’t answer immediately. He just stood there, watching you, his heart heavy with worry. “If you can, please sit here beside her and help me fill out her health form. She’ll need a doctor’s note for a few days to recover,” the doctor requested.

He agreed without hesitation, pulling up a chair beside your bed. He didn’t know why he was doing this, why he felt this strange responsibility to make sure you were okay. After assisting with the form, he remained seated, silently observing your pale face. He sighed, feeling an inexplicable urge to stay. Without a second thought, he texted his coach, explaining his absence from practice.

When you finally woke up, the bright lights above you made you wince. Your head was still spinning, and your body felt weak. Blinking against the harsh light, you were startled to see Tsukishima standing beside your bed, placing a bowl of food on the table next to you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice raspy and surprised. You could hardly believe your eyes—of all people, Tsukishima was the last person you expected to be at your side.

“The doctor said you need to eat immediately after your...” he glanced at his watch, “three-hour nap.” His tone was laced with his usual sarcasm, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes—something softer.

“You waited for me?” The idea of him staying with you all this time made your heart skip a beat. It didn’t make sense—why would he do that?

“Yeah, it seems like you really have a lot of ways to trouble me,” he replied, his voice cool, but there was an undercurrent of something warmer, something he wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge.

“I didn’t mean to…” you murmured, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. You didn’t want to be a burden to anyone, least of all him.

“It’s alright. The doctor asked me to help, so I did.” He tried to downplay his actions, not wanting you to think he was overly concerned. He didn’t want to admit, even to himself, that he was doing this for more than just a favor to the doctor. “Here, eat this,” he said, handing you a bowl of zosui—a simple rice porridge that was gentle on the stomach.

You tried to eat, but the IV in your right hand made it difficult. Seeing your struggle, Tsukishima sighed and took the spoon from you, beginning to feed you himself. The gesture was unexpected, and it sent a flutter of emotions through you.

“I can eat by myself,” you protested weakly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. The idea of him feeding you felt too intimate, too close.

“Yeah, I know. And you’ll probably finish it tomorrow at this rate,” he shot back, his tone a mix of annoyance and concern. He was trying to maintain his usual cool demeanor, but the way you looked at him, with those tired, grateful eyes, made it hard to keep up the act.

Flustered and embarrassed, you gave in, allowing him to feed you in silence. Your cheeks flushed, not just from the warmth of the zosui but from the unexpected tenderness he was showing you. Despite his sharp tongue, there was no denying the care hidden beneath his sarcastic exterior.

As he fed you, a strange warmth filled your chest, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the real Tsukishima—someone who, despite his aloof demeanor, cared deeply about those around him, maybe?

After you finished the last bite of zosui, Tsukishima watched you closely. His expression was as stoic as ever, but there was a hint of something lighter in his tone when he spoke. “Now you realize how hungry you are after skipping meals for... who knows how long,” he teased, his voice low and slightly mocking.

You felt a rush of embarrassment at his words, knowing he was right. You had neglected your health in the pursuit of academic success, and now it was catching up to you. But before you could dwell on it, your thoughts shifted to something far more pressing—the exam tomorrow. It was the last day of exams, and the pressure to perform well weighed heavily on you. You couldn’t afford to get sick now. You should be pulling one final all-nighter, not lying here in the infirmary. But could you even manage to study in this state? Would you be able to nail it?

As these worries swirled in your mind, Tsukishima noticed the change in your expression. You were lost in thought, your face etched with concern. “What are you worrying about?” he asked, his tone cool and controlled, though there was a slight edge of curiosity.

“My last exam is tomorrow,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You wanted to tell him how scared you were of failing, but you knew that he didn’t need to hear the details of your fears.

“What about it?” he pressed, sensing there was more to your anxiety.

“I haven’t studied enough for it, and I heard the doctor would send a permission note excusing me from tomorrow’s test,” you hesitated, unsure if you should continue, but the words came out anyway, your voice shaky with fear. “I can’t skip it, even if I have a legal reason. My mom will find out—” You paused, seeing the concern deepen in his frown. “She already made a holiday plan for after I finish my exams, so I can’t miss it and reschedule for another day.”

Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he couldn’t help but tease you a little despite the seriousness of your concerns. “Well, it’s your job to tell her that you got sick after pulling those all-nighters all week to study.” He thought his sarcasm might lighten the mood, but when he saw your face fall even further, he quickly stopped. His expression softened just a bit, though his tone remained firm. “I mean, she’d understand your reason and postpone the holiday. It’s your holiday she’s planning, right? So what’s the point of planning it if you’re the one who can’t go as scheduled?”

He was trying to ease your anxiety, but he could tell his words weren’t quite enough to pull you out of your spiraling thoughts. “Hey, are you listening?” he asked, leaning slightly closer to catch your gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, feeling overwhelmed. “I just don’t think that would make my mom happy.”

Tsukishima sighed, sensing your deep concern. “It’s molecular biology, right?” he guessed, knowing your exam schedule. When you nodded, he continued, “I asked one of your classmates to send her notes to your email so you can study. I know you wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“Who? And how?” you stuttered, confused by his unexpected help.

“Does it matter?” he replied coolly, brushing off your questions. “You should just start studying now. Your IV fluids are still halfway to go—do it here.”

Without waiting for a response, Tsukishima reached for your bag, pulling out your iPad and other study materials. He placed them on the table attached to your bed, ensuring everything was within easy reach.

As you looked at the setup, a wave of gratitude mixed with anxiety washed over you. You couldn’t believe that Tsukishima, of all people, had gone out of his way to help you like this. The two of you shared a quiet, comforting silence as you began to study for tomorrow’s exam. Despite the stress and the lingering pain, you felt a small sense of relief knowing that you weren’t facing this alone.

In that small infirmary room, amidst the chaos of exams and the uncertainty of what lay ahead, there was a quiet, unspoken connection between you and Tsukishima—one that neither of you fully understood yet, but that was undeniably there.

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