#wanna give him a mug of tea and a blanket

[theallegedbird]

report to prevent future deaths.

[bi-writes]

Since he won't have MOB lift a finger in their home and given how he reacted when she came out in her lingerie, I like to imagine Simon gets a little flustered whenever he's doing the laundry and he's got to sort out her underwear from the rest of the clothes

mail-order bride

it's quiet this afternoon. it's cold outside again (what a surprise), and there's rain pattering gently against the windows. there's a stew in the oven, but it still needs a few hours to get that perfect tender texture. nevertheless, the house is filled with a warm smell, something hearty and wonderful.

something like home.

when simon walks into the living room, he sees you there. you're curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, head resting on a throw pillow as you watch a movie. there's a mug of tea in front of you, steam rising from it, and simon comes over to greet you.

you turn your head, looking up at him towering over you, and you smile up at him as you snuggle a little further into the pillow. you hold out your hand for him.

"wanna watch with me?" you ask, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. he takes your hand anyways, and you swallow hard as he presses your knuckles to his lips, giving them a light kiss before letting go.

"doin' the laundry. can't find yours."

you go to sit up, but simon frowns, visibly upset that you're moving from your spot.

"don't get up," he tells you, tucking the blanket back over you. "just tell me where it is."

you bite your lip.

"uhm...it's in the closet. there's...a bag there."

simon hums, thumbing over your jaw before making his way into the bedroom. he flicks the light on in the closet, moving hangers around until he spots a canvas bag on the floor there, stuffed to the brim with your dirty clothes. he picks it up, cursing a little from how heavy it is, and he carries it with him to the washroom. when he passes the living room, he stops for a moment.

"oi," he calls out to you, and you turn your head, smiling at him, and he points to the bag. "you put y'r clothes with mine from now on, yeah?"

you tuck your face behind the blanket a little more to hide your growing smile. you nod anyways, and he huffs a little before continuing. he puts his basket of laundry on top of the dryer, opening the lid of the washer, and he lifts your little bag up next to the basket. after he sets it down, he steps back when the bag starts to move.

"oi! wot the fuck?!"

at the shout, you scramble off the couch, hurrying towards where he is.

"what? what?! what happened?"

"bag's fuckin' movin'!" simon huffs, but when you try to come further into the room, simon puts a hand on your chest gently, pushing you backwards and behind him. he blocks you completely with his body, and you still can barely see as you stand on your toes and try and look over his shoulder.

"simon--" you sigh. "simon! wait--let me see!"

"fuck no," he snarls, "stay there."

he pushes the bag over so that it tips over, falling onto its side. your clothes tumble out, spilling onto the dryer and onto the floor, and simon reaches around him and wraps one big hand around your waist protectively to hold you back as he cranes his neck to see.

"what is it? simon!" you hiss, and simon holds his breath as the bag continues to move. there's a wiggle of a shape under the canvas before a familiar little head pokes itself out from the opening, one of your shirt sleeves framing their face and hiding their ears.

simon groans audibly, relaxing immediately.

"fuckin' hell," he mutters, letting you push him aside, and you hold onto his bicep as you try and hide your laugh. the cat wriggles its way through your shirt sleeve before shaking, fluffing her hair back up before she takes a seat on the edge of the dryer lid and starts to lick her little paw. "'ow did it fuckin' breathe in there, eh?"

you step past him and reach for her, picking her up off the dryer and tucking her into the crook of your arm. she lays her little head on your arm, blinking slowly up at you, and you tap her nose gently before looking back and up at simon.

"sorry she scared you, big man," you giggle, and he scrunches his nose a bit as he glares at the cat.

"wasn't scared," he huffs, and he brings you closer with a hand on your jaw, drawing you nearer. he runs his tongue over his teeth, looking down at you, and you swear his gaze lingers on your lips for just a second too long. "got precious cargo in m'house. couldn't let anythin' happen ta 'er."

you blink up at him, opening your mouth to say something, but you sputter, laughing, looking away from him. you shrug him off with a roll of your eyes, but you look back at him just as you're about to turn the corner and leave. he's already back to picking up your clothes that have fallen onto the floor, and you nearly choke when he's got one big hand wrapped around bright red lace.

he holds up the edges of it for a moment to inspect it, and he swallows when he realizes it's a pair of your panties.

your favorite panties.

when he looks over his shoulder, your eyes lock, and you squeak as you hide behind the doorway, shutting your eyes as you cringe at yourself for reacting so silly.

for fuck's sake, it's your husband--husbands wash their wives undergarments, right?

you poke your head back into the doorway, just enough for your eyes to get simon in view again. he's putting the rest of the clothes in the washer, putting a small amount of soap into it before shutting the top and putting the water on cold. you hide again when he turns around, flattening your back against the wall, and when he comes out, he's got a hint of a smirk on his face, knowing, because he knows he's caught you.

when he passes by you, you go half-lidded and slack when his hand finds your face again, thumb against your bottom lip. his eyes are so dark; beautiful, pupils blown wide, a magnet that draws you closer, up onto your toes until his thumb is nearly touching your tongue and your lips are nearly brushing against his.

simon takes your breath away when he leaves. you follow him hoping to get it back.

[yuwuta]

VITAMIN ME — JUJUTSU KAISEN BOYS + SICK FIC

featuring. gojo, toji, inumaki, nanami, okkotsu, itadori, choso, fushiguro

content. taking care of the boys/the boys taking care of you when feeling sick, all fluff, no warnings 

word count. 2.5k 

SATORU GOJO

He doesn’t feel under the weather often, but when he does, it hits him tenfold. He’s whiny, dramatic, borderline inconsolable, and feels well within his rights to demand your undivided attention, because he’s not usually like this… sick, that is (he is usually whiny and dramatic, no illness in the world could take that away from him).

You and him both know when he’s dragging it, but you can’t help but to feel bad for him. Because when Satoru is sick, he’s sick—you feel like you need to constantly monitor all his vitals, set a timer to make sure he gets medication because he’s so cold and pale and sluggish, it’s worrisome. Of course, he finds the strength to tease you, “You worried about little old me, sweets? Don’t be—‘m gonna be fine, you know. But I hear kisses cure the flu.”

“Not scientifically proven, or peer reviewed,” you tell him, “But you know what is? Tylenol. Time for more, open up, Satoru.” 

“Will I get a kiss? Just a little one?” 

He gives you a hard time, even in sickness, but it’s only because he absolutely relishes being in your care, thinks you’re good at taking care of him; proven by the way you give in with a nod, and then a kiss after he takes his medication. He really does feel like shit right now, but with you here, caring for him, his heart has expanded ten times and a warmth spills into his chest that makes the pain insignificant. Satoru feels honored and humbled to have someone fuss over him like this—to have this concrete reminder that you worry for him and care about him and love him just like he loves you.

TOJI FUSHIGURO 

“You gonna feed me?” Toji grumbles, sounding much less threatening with a frog in his throat, “Because there’s no way I’m drinking that.” 

You roll your eyes, lightly tapping the spoon against the edge of the mug before placing it onto the coffee table and extending your arms towards Toji, “The ginger is good for you. The lemon, too, if you wanna stop sounding like a low-budget villain anytime soon.” 

Toji’s nose scrunches—it’s almost cute, if it weren’t followed by an infuriatingly stubborn turn of his jaw, pointedly away from you and back to the television. You huff, sitting down next to him—or as close as you can get through his mountain of blankets and forcefield of pillows—carefully nursing the cup in your palms. 

Who would have thought that the great Toji Fushiguro would be so stubborn as to let a little cold get the best of him. Him attempting to suffer without cold medicine wasn’t that surprising, but you didn’t think that he’d petulantly refuse tea just because of some ginger. Getting him to take his antibiotics only worked when you told him you’d boot him onto the couch if he didn’t, but that won’t work this time, he’ll call your bluff. 

You sigh, moving a pillow to your other side and reaching over to the coffee table to redeem your spoon. You fold one leg under the other and turn your body to Toji’s, scooping tea into the spoon, giving it a soft blow, and then raising it to his face. He quirks an eyebrow when he feels the steam brushing against his skin, and turns to you with a hellish grin.

He opens his mouth, to say something slick no doubt, but you take advantage of the opportunity to shove the spoon in his mouth, “You don’t get to talk until after you finish your tea.”

TOGE INUMAKI

Despite being a renowned insomniac and someone who is willing to throw away hours of sleep to binge watch his favorite series or complete a new game, Toge does believe that rest is the best medicine. He does take his own sleep seriously—it’s not his fault that most people consider his preferred sleeping hours to be regular waking hours.

So, even though it sounds a bit hypocritical, Toge is very firm about you resting as much as you can when you’re not feeling well. He’s quick to make a cocoon out of you in your two favorite blankets and fit you onto the couch to keep you within sight as he rummages around the kitchen to prepare your meals, and make sure that you don’t skimp out on your medication. He’s got some pretty effective homemade remedies for a killer sore throat, but cough syrup is cough syrup—he knows it tastes horrible, but if he has to force feed it to you, then so be it.

He feeds you spoonfuls of homemade broth and rice to make up for it, giggling as you scrunch your nose from the taste of the medicine. When you’re finished, he lets you tell him off and forgoes teasing you about how nasally you sound as he coerces you to lay down again. You don’t feel sleepy, but when Toge’s lips brush against your forehead, his words are like a spell that makes your eyes flutter shut, “Sleep, my love.”

KENTO NANAMI

“It’s cold, Ken,” you whine, sniffling at the end of your sentence. Kento sighs softly, switching off the light to the bathroom and taking careful strides to the bed. He carefully sits on the edge of the bed, expression sympathetic as you complain about the temperature again.

The room is actually slightly warmer than normal per your earlier request, but he knows you still feel cold because of how high your temperature is. It's exactly why he took your blanket from you—fuzzy, and warm, and weighted would all be enticing and acceptable if you weren’t running a very concerning fever. Kento absolutely hates to say no to you, but he has to do something to break your fever. 

“I know, darling,” he nods gently, settling himself onto his side of the bed. He’d prefer to have the comfort of a heavy blanket right now, too, but he wouldn’t taunt you like that—if you have to sleep without one, then so will he. He should get you another cold towel for your forehead, but you tug on his heartstrings when you scoot yourself closer to him, nose nudging against his thigh. He smiles softly, carefully reaching to tap at your arms, “Come here.”

You shuffle upwards and into his arms, cheek pressed against his chest with your arms coming to wrap around his torso. Kento lets you melt into him and wraps strong arms around your body to keep you close—body heat will have to do for now.

YUUTA OKKOTSU

Yuuta walks—waddles, really—with his blanket over his shoulders, mouth slightly ajar, and a box of tissue in his hand for good measure. He looks cute despite his febrile state, with his nose red and eyes wide and you have to resist the urge to coo at him.

“I thought the Benadryl would have kept you asleep at least a little longer,” you smile, turning off the heat underneath the pot.

“Something smelled good... and I got hungry,” Yuuta shrugs weakly, taking the remaining steps into the kitchen and plopping his body weight onto a stool at the island. He sniffles deeply, setting his box of tissues down on the counter, before pointing at the lowly simmering pot behind you, “Is that… for me?”

“No, it’s for my other sick boyfriend,” you grin, reaching into a nearby cabinet for a bowl. You giggle when you see Yuuta’s pouty expression, cheeks a light pink and bottom lip jutted slightly.

“It’s not nice to make fun of the ill,” he coughs. His façade is waning, already weakened by his sick state, and crumbling when you push a warm bowl of his favorite soup in front of him. You can’t help but to laugh a little louder because Yuuta’s eyes practically grow three sizes and you swear he’s salivating a little. 

He shakes away the shock, turning with a pout when he realizes you’re poking fun at him again, “You’re doing it again. Now you owe me a kiss.” 

“Do I?” you tease, taking the seat on the stool next to him, elbows resting on the counter, as you peer up at Yuuta’s flushed face. You’ll let him ride the excuse his blush being the fever for a little longer, “That’s risky. I might get sick, and I have a very cute boyfriend to take care of.”

“I’ll take care of you, too,” Yuuta all but whispers, tired eyes fluttering to your lips, “In sickness and in health, right?”

He leans down a bit and you meet him for a quick kiss, pulling away to smile, “I thought that was for married couples.” 

“I’ll fix that soon,” Yuuta smiles, satisfied. You giggle, reaching out to poke his red nose and then his cheek to turn his face back to his soup. 

“Well, then go ahead and eat and get well soon,” you muse, leaning forward to kiss his cheek, “I expect a very romantic proposal from an un-sick lover boy.”

YUUJI ITADORI

You should have known that Nobara was going to rat you out sooner or later, if not for your own wellbeing, then for hers—because despite your roommate being a caring soul beneath her tough exterior, she is not caring enough to risk her own health because you’re sniffling all over your shared apartment; especially not before she’s supposed to go on her first vacation with her boyfriend.

On the third day of coughing, Nobara tells you she’s going to camp out with Megumi until her flight, and that Yuuji is the person she’s entrusted with her keys until she returns back from her trip. So, it’s not a surprise that a mere hour later, you find Yuuji all but barreling through your front door with grocery bags in hand, all of which he promptly drops when he hears you hacking out your lungs on the couch, quick to dart to your side and hold your cup as you shakily drink some water.

“Babe! You’re, like, super sick,” he exclaims, now sitting criss-cross on your living room floor, slowly unpacking the grocery bags for a real-time haul, “You should have told me earlier, I could have gotten you all this stuff way sooner!”

“I’m fine, Yuuji. It’s a mild cold at most,” you reassure him, smiling to yourself as he rips open a new box of Kleenex and thrusts it in your direction. He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, untrusting of your words, before he springs up with the last grocery bag in hand.

“Well, still... I’m not a doctor, but I got all the medications Nanamin told me to get, so we’re gonna get this cold out of you in no time,” he grins, patting your head before leaning down to kiss your forehead, “In the meantime, how about some soup? Oh—I just saw a recipe for something spicy, that should help with your nose right? Or maybe ramen? Leave it to me!”

CHOSO KAMO

You couldn’t help but to snap one more picture of Choso. You felt bad, a little bit, he was tired and sick and probably felt like crap, but he looked very cute when he was sleepy, cuddled up in fuzzy blankets from head to toe, with just enough space to expose his tired eyes and red nose. One more wouldn’t hurt. 

You smile to yourself as you look back at him, slipping your phone into your pocket and walking over to join Choso on the couch. There’s not enough room for you to sit in the seat, so you have to cotch yourself in the arm of the couch closest to his head and gently reach out to move a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. It would make for another cute picture, but you refrain, choosing to lean down and press a kiss to his forehead instead, before standing to start picking up the spare tissue and cough drop wrappers littered around him.

You always tell him he’s going to worry himself sick, and he’s managed to do just that. It was a little fun, a little cute, but mostly, you’re just happy that Choso is resting. You know that sleep doesn’t come easily to him under normal circumstances; if being a little under the weather is what gets your boyfriend to slow down and care for his body, then so be it; you’ll be there to help him out.

You’re about to head into the kitchen, when you’re stopped by a warm hand brushing against your leg. You turn to see Choso limply reaching out of your, slowly blinking awake, before weakly beckoning for you again, “Stay here,” he croaks, “Please?”

You smile, placing the gathered trash onto the coffee table, before burying yourself within Choso’s blankets. You have to do a little wiggling to get underneath him, but Choso doesn’t mind, happily resting his weight against you, eyes already fluttering closed again, not before he lets you a meek, “Thank you. I love you.”

You give him one final kiss to the crown of his head, “I love you, too.” 

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

“Megumi, are you… okay?” you question softly, leaning over the small restaurant table to squint at your boyfriend. You’d been watching him carefully since he’d picked you up from your house, deducing that something was definitely wrong, even if Megumi had been trying his best to hide it.

He could be quiet, but he was definitely not soft spoken, nor did he normally wince after swallowing a bite of his food. You should have known something was off from the start, when you’d held hands on your walk and Megumi’s fingers were warm, and not icicles attached to his palm.

Megumi freezes, mouth gaping slightly, before he closes it and composes himself with slumped shoulders—he’d considered keeping up his brave front, but it’d be futile at this point, so he sighs, “My throat hurts, is all,” he confesses, the hoarseness of his tired voice peeking through, “I had a fever yesterday, but it was fine this morning.”

You lean over a little more, just enough to be able to extend your hand so that the back of your palm meets Megumi’s forehead. It’s warm, to no surprise, and you find yourself tutting, recoiling your hand slightly, with enough space to flick him.

“Ow?” He groans, and you only roll your eyes. You pull back to fish through your bag, to pull out some cash and leave it on the table. Megumi begins to question you, but you’re not hearing it, getting up to sling your purse over your shoulder and grab your boyfriend by the forearm.

“You’re an idiot,” you scold, ushering him out of the restaurant, “We are going to urgent care to get you a strep test, and then to that bakery Nanami tells us not to tell anyone about to get you soup, and then you are going to sit and eat it and contemplate your actions for the rest of the evening.”

Megumi lets himself be dragged away—another tell-tale sign that he really is feeling under the weather (which is also what he chooses to blame his blush on). If “contemplating his actions,” was code word for you hovering over him for a bit, then maybe he wouldn’t mind.

[barefoothighlander]

never going back again - 03

summary: ghost finds himself at the wrong safe house, injured and unable to call for backup

simon ‘ghost’ riley x innocent fem!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), mention of nudity, mention of food, simons a flirt

prev part masterlist next part

a/n: haven’t proofread this yet, sorry for any grammatical errors

It’s a loud banging that wakes you, echoing through the walls of the small cottage, shifting frames on the wall as it continues.

In a sleepy daze you remember how Simon had mentioned he was going to fix the shower, something about mould and needing to redo the tile, what you didn’t recall was him saying he’d start work promptly at 7am, effectively disrupting your peaceful slumber.

You trudge your way out of the bedroom, wrapping the blanket around your form for some warmth as you stand in the doorway to the bathroom, heavy eyes watching him.

It takes him no time at all to acknowledge your presence, probably due to whatever training he’d acquired over the years, he could notice a mosquito shift from 10 feet away, such keen eyes.

He turns to you, his dark clothes sprinkled with powdered remnants of tile, “Did I wake you?”

You smile weakly, “You know there’s no rush, can always start these things, I dunno, in the afternoon”

“Woke up early, wanted to get a head start”

“Head start, sure, yeah” You dig your palms into your eyes, trying to rub the sleep from them, he drops his tools, moving closer to you and gently wrapping his fingers around your wrists, tugging them from your face.

“How’d you sleep love?”

“You mean before you shook my entire house at the crack of dawn? Very well, you’re quite comfortable”

“Am I?”

You smile, shifting your arms to wrap around him, letting the blanket draped on you fall to the floor, he snakes a hand behind your head, tugging it against his chest as he lifts his mask slightly, planting a kiss on the crown of your head.

“How long is this gonna take?”

“Shouldn’t be more than two days”

“You understand this is my only washroom”

“I know”

“And I use it”

“Mhm”

“Please don’t destroy it”

“Wouldn’t dream of it”

You peak your head around him, getting a full glance at the room, it’s a complete mess, tools and dust everywhere, fallen tiles scattering the floor.

“Oh my god”

He pulls back, following your line of sight, “It’s not that bad”

“Not that bad, Simon, be serious”

“You still have the bathtub”

You huff, your forehead falling into his chest, “Just, promise me you know what you’re doing”

He scrunches his face under his mask, “I know what I’m doing” Running his hands up your arms, lying.

“Okay, I’m trusting you”

“Go get some tea love, I’ll take a break soon”

You lift your head from him, gazing up at his masked face before turning around, picking up your fallen blanket and making your way to the kitchen, jolting at the sudden clanging from a wall away and silently praying he wouldn’t destroy your entire washroom.

It’s takes him a few hours before the banging stops, your hearing feeling like it was permanently damaged from the consistent noise as Simon emerges, completely covered in dust.

You bite back the smile that pulls on your lips as you watch him saunter in, reaching for a mug and pouring himself a cup of tea before dramatically huffing a breath while he sits down.

“Done yet?”

He chuckles lightly, shaking his head, “Done taking the old tile down”

“Seems like it took all your energy old man”

“Old man?”

You laugh lightly into your tea,

“Believe me love, I’ve got energy to spare” He smirks under his mask as you choke into your tea, drops of the liquid spurting from the mug as your cheeks flush.

You clear your throat, tilting your head lightly “Wanna use some of it to help me in the garden?”

“Give me five minutes”

You smile, standing from your chair and walking beside him, placing a hand to his shoulder and dragging it along the skin as you walk away.

It takes him more than 5 minutes to meet you, more interested in watching you move around the land whilst sipping his tea, the privacy granting him the opportunity to drink properly without the hindrance of his mask, he made a mental note to buy you proper tea considering the stuff you had tasted like wet dirt to him.

By the time he found you in the garden he had changed his clothes, opting for a more comfortable t-shirt and jeans, the man looked damn good, his arms flexing under the thin cloth that allowed you perfect sight of the ink on his arm.

“Must be hot with that mask on all the time”

“M’not gonna take it off” He groans, standing behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, he leans in to your ear “Yet”

You bite you lower lip as the thoughts flash through your mind, really you didn’t mean the words in a teasing way, more of an observation but now all you could think about was what he looked like. You knew his eyes were dark and his lips were full and pink, that his jaw was muscular and stubbled, from the few angles he granted you, you could tell he had scars on his face, specifically one that spanned his chin going down and another that cut through his left eyebrow.

It was enough, the small glimpses of him, the mystery intriguing but now there was a desire to know him under the mask, how he looked alongside who he was.

“Okay” You break yourself from your thought,la, pulling his arms from you and turning around, “I need you to help me plant these”

“Yes ma’am”

You hand him a small shovel, kneeling in the dirt, “So dig a small hole here, and then just put the pods in and cover them”

“Seems simple enough”

“So you won’t mess up?”

“I didn’t say that”

You smile, “Just do your best, need these to eat”

You watch him struggle to choose spots to dig, clearly overthinking his moves as he twists his body, reaching across the beds.

You shake your head, patting down the dirt in front of you at you settle one of the plants, untangling the vines and sitting back, wiping your hand across your forehead.

“Just plant it Si”

He whips his head to you, his eyes glued to your face in a panicked manner, it makes you uneasy,

“You okay?”

You slowly reach a hand down to rest on top of his, watching his reaction,

“Yeah fine” He shakes his head, “No one’s called me that in a long time, took me by surprise”

“Oh, m’sorry it just slipped out”

“No, I like it, sounds nice coming from you”

“Oh” You turn your gaze down, how did he always manage to make you so nervous, his hand meets your jaw, moving your gaze up to him as he holds you, his other thumb moving to swipe across your forehead.

“Got somethin”

He shows his palm, a smear of dirt on it as you realize, using your own hand to wipe it, you glance down at your body, stains of grass and soil covering you as you laugh.

“You’re filthy”

“You’re no better” You joke, gesturing to the clumps of spilt soil on his lap,

“Could probably use a shower”

“You think you’re so funny”

“Sometimes yeah”

You huff, grabbing a small handful of soil and tossing it at him, he closes his eyes for a moment, “Seriously”

You can’t fight the laughter that erupts from you, the dirt sticking to his sweat covered skin as he looks at you.

You yelp as he pounced on you, throwing your body back into the dirt as he hovers over your frame, his fingers tickling at your sides as you writhe under him.

“Say you’re sorry”

“Will not” You manage through laughs

His fingers poke at your skin, smearing the dirt from his arms onto your clothes in the process,

“Please, can’t breath”

He leans back with a smile, watching your heavy breaths raise your chest as your arms fall to the ground.

“Apologize”

“I’m-“

You’re sentence is cut short as you hear a car pull up, it’s door slamming shut, Simon jumps from you in full fight mode, extending an arm back to keep you guarded as a man exits the vehicle.

You squint your eyes at him, pushing Simons arm down gently as you recognize the person.

“William?”

“Hey doll”

Simon looks between you and the man, a sudden fire burning under his skin at the pet name, he stands back slightly as you approach him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Who’s this?”

You glance at Simon, giving him a small smile before turning back, “A friend”

The term feels like a punch to his chest.

“Pleasure” William extends a hand to Simon who neglects to shake it, eyeing the smaller man’s frame before turning back to you.

“What do you want”

“Came to drop something off, or someone rather”

He walks toward the car, opening the back door quickly as you watch a furry mass sprint toward you, gasping as you kneel down to meet it.

He licks your face as you scrunch it, running your hands over his fur, laughing as he prances around you before he catches Simons scent.

Simon watches the animal intently, studying it’s moves, as it approaches him quickly, jumping to his chest, licking his arms.

“He missed you, and I’m moving”

You tilt your head to him, “Moving?”

“Going to Spain, my mums sick”

“Will I’m so sorry”

“S’alright, just figured Riley needed a better place to stay”

“Yeah of course, thank you”

“We’ll I’ll get out of your hair, seems your busy, it was nice meeting you Simon”

Ghost is at a loss for words, he simply nods toward the man, his gaze focused on Riley.

“Seems he likes you”

“Where’d you get this dog” His tone is serious

“We adopted him when Will and I were together, he’s a retired-“

“Spec ops dog”

“Yeah? How’d you know”

“This is my dog”

“Simon what are you talking about?”

“I work in the military, that’s my job”

“And Riley was yours?”

“For a few years yeah, last they told me he’d retired in the states”

“They didn’t let you keep him?”

“Not protocol, I’m not home much”

“Home” The word triggers something in your mind, he’s not home, this isn’t his house, you’d been so caught up in being around him you’d completely forgot that he has a life outside yours.

Simons eyes crinkle as he plays with the dog, rough housing with him as they roll in the dirt, “We should get inside, looks like rain”

“Be in, in a minute love”

You walk slowly toward the house, resting your back against the front door and shutting your eyes, why hadn’t you thought about him leaving, there were people relying on him, it’s not like he could stay forever.

Even with the anxiety in your chest, your heart swells at the sight of Simon playing with Riley, even in the short time you’d known him, you’d never seen him this comfortable, he was so happy.

You glance at your arms, caked in dirt and sweat, deciding you needed to wash off. Stumbling over the mess of the washroom to turn on the bath, closing your eyes as you sink into the warm water.

Losing track of time in the water you notice your skin had grown wrinkled, scrubbing off the last bits of dirt and stepping out, wrapping a towel around your body and carefully navigating around the room.

Apparently during your alone time, Simon and Riley had moved their fun into the house, moving around the rooms together as they settled in.

You open the door, bumping directly into Simons chest, your nerves jumping as you collide. In a panic your towel falls,

“Sorry I didn’t see you” He struggles to get the last words out, his eyes roaming your naked form as you quickly move to cover yourself,

“Oh my god!” You reach for your towel but Riley runs over, grabbing it with his teeth and running away, “Riley! No, not a toy!”

Your cheeks flush with heat as you glance up, Simons eyes glued to you, your own eyes blown wide as you scurry away, slamming your bedroom door shut.

“Hey, wait” He follows you, leaning against your door as you drop your head to your hands on the other side.

“Please, go away”

“C’mon, it wasn’t that bad”

“You saw my whole body”

“Lucky me”

“Simon” You laugh,

“It was bound to happen at some point”

“Well these are awful circumstances”

He moves the door open slightly, his eyes on your face as you hide behind the wood, face flush, he smiles, reaching to lift his mask slightly as he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss.

“You’re so beautiful”

You take a deep breath, smiling against his lips before shoving him back and closing the door. He sits down, back resting against the door as you shuffle around in your room, quickly throwing on clothes.

“I’m serious, the most perfect girl i’ve ever seen, honestly just can’t believe it took this long for you to get naked”

You open the door quickly, his body falling backwards onto the ground, wincing lightly as he laughs, his eyes opening to see you standing above him.

“You’re very cocky, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Actually yeah”

Shaking your head you step over him, making your way to the kitchen, Riley following closely behind you.

Simon appears in the door frame, watching you pull food from the fridge, tossing items into pots and onto the cutting board.

“You hungry?” Twisting your head over your shoulder,

“Starved”

He rests an arm above his head against the frame, watching you cook, his hand extended down to pet Riley, this was perfect, the life he never knew he wanted, he had you and his dog and goliath his own little family.

He gives you some space to work, settling on the couch while Riley rests at his feet, seemingly tired out from the day. He reaches for the small tray of electronics on the table, toying with his comms for a moment before piecing it together finally, clipping in the missing cord.

There’s a massive weight on his shoulders, he knows what he has to do, he has a team waiting on him, a family, less conventional yes, but a family none the less, the team were his brothers, he had to get in contact.

He grabs his comm, tucking it to his ear before moving into the bedroom, closing the door so you couldn’t hear.

“Bravo Delta, this is Ghost”

He waits a few minutes before repeating himself, double checking his channel, those few minutes make his heart sink lower, either no one was there and his team had forgotten him, or his comms really were destroyed, and he could stay with you.

“Ghost?”

“Captain, good to hear your voice”

“Christ Son, we thought you’d died”

“Not yet Sir, just a little misplaced”

“Send your coordinates, we’ll get you evac”

“Negative Sir, I’ve got hostiles in the city near”

“Can you get out? We need you on base”

“How much time can you give me?”

He hears Price take a deep breath, murmuring to someone else in the room, “Three days Simon, then I’m sending everyone I have to get you”

“Copy, see you in three days”

“Be careful”

The line goes dead, Simons worries surfacing, he had three days, he didn’t want to face the idea of leaving you let alone how you’d react when he told you, he’d finally gotten his family, he wouldn’t give it up this easy.

tag list: @pepsicolacoochie @coolbanana44 @konigsblog @lialacleaf @mli345 @gghoulzz @fuckface-6996

[daenysx]

this is like the summary of my morning- without the boys, sadly. i woke up really bad and writing this helped a lot, i hope you enjoy too! ♡

poly!marauders x fem!reader, mostly fluff - a little hurt/comfort maybe

an almost ruined morning

you wake up angry for no reason this morning.

maybe no reason isn't right; you're stressed because of your final week, mostly thanks to the high pressure you put on yourself and one of your closest friends cancelled your study date for today. you blink your eyes open with slight panic, irritation makes your stomach achy. there's also a headache that starts forming, a nice ribbon on top of your package of stress.

it must be raining out there, you hear the water drops hitting against the window. the boys are nowhere to be seen, they must've woken up earlier than you. you leave the empty bed with glossy eyes, almost tearing up for not waking up early enough to get some school work done. that wasn't what you planned last night.

"there she is." james sees you first. he opens his arms for you. "good morning, pretty girl."

"morning." you mumble, burying your face to his chest. he smells like aftershave and shower gel, slight coffee and a hint of cigarettes which you think he gets from kissing remus. he wraps his arms around you, holding you tight.

"are you okay?" he whispers to your ear. you're sure he gives a look behind you to remus, not understanding what happens.

"i was gonna wake up early to do my readings." you say against his chest.

he strokes your hair, feeling the uneasiness in your voice. "it's still early babe, you can start after breakfast, hmm?"

remus comes next to you, rubbing your back and giving you a kiss on your hair. "i thought you were gonna meet with shelby today for studying."

he came home late last night so he doesn't know you won't be seeing shelby. "she cancelled. said she has something came up." you murmur.

"yeah?" remus raises an eyebrow. "does that mean we get to spend time together?"

you nod into james's chest, discomfort creeps into your hands. shaky hands, pins and needles. you don't know why you're so nervous.

sirius comes into kitchen, hand in his hair to shape his wet curls up. he gives you a huge smile when he sees you. "good morning!" he says brightly. you immediately sense he's in the mood for a happy morning. you wish you could feel the same.

"morning, siri." you say, still leaning to james but your face is turned to the boys.

"what's wrong?" sirius asks. "what's with the pout, angel girl?"

"i don't know." you admit. "i woke up angry and sad, and i wanna study but i can't. i don't know."

you say the last part with a shaky voice and that makes boys frown. you bury yourself back to james's chest, embarrassed and silly, you don't feel like you can deal with this. you're being too extra and you just woke up.

"okay." james says. "it's fine, baby, it's normal. let's go lay on couch a bit, yeah?"

remus gives him an approving look. james leads you into living room, you lay down angrily. he takes the fluffiest blanket to cover your bodies. you can hear sirius drying his hair in the bathroom and remus starts the kettle for tea.

you are more than willing to stay against james, he's big and soft for you. with his muscular arms wrapped around you, you feel safe. hidden from everything, and it's nice. he kisses your forehead, his glasses are on the coffee table. he rubs your back with a huge hand. you breathe shakily, definitely unable to relax.

"sweetheart." he whispers. "we gotta relax a bit, okay?" he puts your head on his chest, right where his heart beats. "can you follow my breathing?"

you try to do as he says. your eyes are closed, your ear is pressed against your lover's heart. it's not so easy to do but you succeed after a long minute. "it's okay." he whispers, kissing your head. "relax, baby."

your head stops pounding after a while, that's good. you hear silent steps into the room, remus comes in with a steaming mug and a full plate. he puts them on the coffee table before coming to your side, his long fingers are gentle on your hair.

"feel any better?" he asks. you nod, looking at him from james's chest. he motions the table with his eyes. "do you want to have some breakfast? i got you your favorite."

"thank you." you say, eyes filled with tears suddenly. remus coos lovingly, he leans in to dry your tears. you can't handle them being so gentle with you, feeling like you ruined their morning. they still take care of you when you're being useless on the couch. "i'm sorry." you say.

"sorry for what?" sirius asks, joining you in the room. "you're too lovely to say sorry for anything, babe, please stop."

you cry for a few minutes, letting it out with gentle encouragements from boys. the stress of everything makes you lightheaded, you don't want to feel like this. you don't want to cry over academics anymore, you want to be a person who can adapt to quick changes when things don't go as planned. your tears wet james's shirt but he doesn't seem to care, his calm eyes following you. you get tired. you feel so tired.

you sit up, done with the crying. you rub your eyes, remus holds your both hands in his one hand as he uses the other one to dry your tears softly. he has a look of understanding on his face, you are grateful for the sentiment.

"can i have some tea?" you ask. sirius hands you the cup quickly, you take a few sips before looking at them. james wants to wipe the look of guilt off your face, he holds your hand.

"i'm sorry." you say. "i don't know what came over me."

"you have nothing to say sorry for." james says. "it's okay if you don't feel well, lovely."

"it's just-" you start. "i can't spend the time i think of doing things by actually doing them and- it stresses me out. like i'm always competing against time."

you take another sip from your tea. saying what upsets you out loud is a nice feeling, knowing they'll never judge you. they actually listen and understand, they will stay with you no matter what.

"you have 10 days until the finals, right?" remus asks.

you nod. "but i have to finish a paper before that."

"but still it means you have time." remus comes, sits on the empty spot on the couch. he cups your cheeks, his heart breaks at the sight of your tired eyes. "i think- we can spend today by resting and helping you get some sleep. you brain can't function properly if you don't take care of yourself, dove."

you nod. "okay."

"okay." he kisses your forehead. "good."

you finish your tea, and take a bite of the breakfast remus prepared for you. you don't feel like eating much but still force yourself to eat some of it. remus takes your empty cup to kitchen and james leaves to open the window in the bedroom now that the rain has stopped. fresh air will be nice.

"don't worry please." you say softly to sirius. he looks upset, nothing like his sparkly mood before. "i'm sorry i made you sad."

he can't resist it, takes you into his arms. you are more than happy to follow him, putting your head on the curve of his shoulder. he keeps you, smiles only a bit. "you have nothing to be sorry for. i just- i hate seeing you cry."

"i know."

"i wanna put a smile on your pretty face." he says, cupping your cheeks. "you're cute with the pout, but i'd prefer a smile."

you smile. a real smile, just what he deserves. you actually show him your teeth, he kisses you. "do you really think i'm cute?" you flirt, trying to get one more kiss from him. his kisses are healing.

"i think you're more than cute." he kisses your nose. "i can prove it."

"are you trying to make her faint, pads?" james asks, coming back to your side.

he might be right because sirius has always had this effect on you. you lose yourself when he kisses you, and it's good. it makes you forget your problems. he makes you feel brave, like you can achieve anything you want. he kisses you once more, your eyes are closed. james admires the sight.

"finally got a smile on her face, do you see that?" sirius says. "don't be jealous, prongs."

"i'm jealous." remus says, sitting on the other side of you. "i want a kiss."

he is teasing more than usual, to cheer you up. you give him a good kiss as he takes you to his lap. james sits on the empty spot you left, playing with sirius's hair. it's definitely how they flirt.

"maybe you should put a smile on my face too, huh?" james says to his boyfriend. "gorgeous."

sirius kisses him, his hand slipping into james's curls. they start talking after, a quiet chat about their games. everything goes back to normal now that you feel better. remus keeps you on his lap, though. you don't think he'll leave you for a while. he likes the reassurance of your wellness, he likes the quiet kisses you press on his neck when you wanna stop thinking. he likes how you play with his fingers.

remus brushes his lips to the side of your head. "better, lovely?"

you nod. it's not a lie, you feel better. sometimes it's good to cry about things, especially when you're treated like this by your boys. you just need some time to settle down, you think. remus's lap is the perfect place to think about things and then forget them, he rubs your back with occasional neck kisses and you fall asleep right there.

♡

(ps; the pics are from pinterest, they don't belong to me)

[jjenthusee]

Empty Plates

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: I SUCCESSFULLY MOVED SO THATS WHY I WAS GONE FOR A HOT MIN but i wanted to give u something while we wait for Racing Hearts pt. 4 :D ENJOY comment if ur comfortable and let me hear ur thoughts \(^~^)/

Tags: hurt/no comfort, angst, sorry yall we gon cry together

Word Count: 1.3k

He left.

Jason was gone.

The apartment was cold. The only outline of him ever being there was the blanket pushed aside, curving around where he used to lay on the bed.

Everything was too good while it lasted.

No matter how many times he left without a word, it felt like it started to hurt less and less the more you didn’t see him next to you.

You’ve always heard how great other people’s relationships were. Too good to be true. It feels like a dream.

And they were right.

It was like a dream.

But Jason was only in your life like a dream.

Only in your bed late in the night.

Willing to be there when the moon rose.

And like a dream, he disappeared. Only like a memory.

They say that hate is worse than love, but the opposite of love was indifference.

And you had no energy to care anymore.

——

So you woke up.

Like any other morning.

Folding your blankets, face blank, heart blank.

You took out loose leaf tea, started prepping breakfast as the water boiled.

Your morning gray.

No music, no color, no Jason.

It was silent, only the sounds of water boiling, popping from the heat.

Your knife hitting the cutting board.

New cooking pans on the stove.

Your body going through the motions without a thought.

You couldn’t bring yourself to think, to feel.

You ate your breakfast, sitting at the table, watching the traffic go by.

Steam hitting your face from the cup as you let it warm your fingers.

No one sitting across from you.

No second mug to mimic yours.

No legs and knees bumping into yours.

You didn’t have any appetite anymore.

You mentally reprimanded yourself for wasting food, but you dumped the rest in the trash, getting nauseous from the sight.

Putting any dirty dishes in the sink.

Chores can be completed later.

You sullenly grabbed some clothes, getting in the shower.

You stood, letting your head feel the water pressure hit your scalp.

You broke.

You slowly fell to the shower floor.

Water running down your face as you sobbed, quietly weeping to yourself.

Your tears mixing with the warm water.

Memories flooded your mind.

“Jaybird, I want to get new cooking pans.” You wrapped your arms around Jason as he cooked.

“Why? These are still in good condition.” Jason continued flipping your small pancakes on the pan.

“But I want a new set that we bought together now that we moved.” You nuzzled your face into his back.

“Hm.” Jason hummed at the warm feeling of you behind him. “We can get a new set today. Something you like.”

You smiled into his shirt.

“Thanks, Jaybird.”

Then you got ready. Fixing your hair, brushing your teeth.

Ready for work.

Like nothing happened.

——

It had been two weeks.

No sign of Jason.

No messages. No calls. Nothing.

You rarely ate. You called in sick from work after you were wearing yourself out.

Reaching your limit of filling your time with anything, but Jason.

Forgetting to brush your teeth, no longer changing out of your lounging clothes, staring out the window from the table.

You did drink water, your stomach not tolerating anything else.

No music playing anymore.

It was quiet.

Only the upstairs neighbor’s footsteps filling the silence.

Your face was pale, it felt like your cheeks were hallowing out.

Eyes tired.

You refused to let yourself reach out to Jason first. Countless times before you had called, texted, done something.

But you didn’t wanna do any of it anymore.

No longer following Jason.

You went to the bathroom. Slowly having the energy to walk.

Shutting yourself in there, the walls feeling small, you blankly watched the mirror.

An unrecognizable expression that only visited during the bad times.

You sighed, splashing water on your face.

The floor creaking as you walked back.

When you made it back to the table, you sat down in the same chair, looking at the same cup, watching the same window.

Not acknowledging anything.

“You’re not going to say anything?” Jason said. Sitting across from you. He sounded confused, his expression probably wasn’t any different, but you didn’t know.

You didn’t bother looking.

You almost flinched from his voice. You almost convinced yourself he was an illusion.

“Yell?” He questioned. “Anything?”

You stayed quiet. Staring out the window.

When was the last time you took a walk?

“Please say something.” Jason pleaded in front of you.

It was too hot these days, but if it was cloudy like today, maybe you should start walking soon.

You still stared out the window, taking a sip from your cup.

“Nothing?” Jason’s frustration peaking into his voice.

You needed some exercise.

“Sweetheart.” Jason firmly impeded your thoughts.

You sighed.

“I’m tired.” You softly spoke.

“I came back because I was worried.” Jason explained.

Your frustration building. Trying to balance out your nonchalance and anger.

“It’s so noisy.” You flatly said to yourself.

“But things were supposed to be okay, I made sure—“

You angrily set the cup down, water splashing from the impact. The cup cracking, water leaking onto the table.

You continued to look out the window. Not acknowledging the mess around your hand.

“I don’t know if you realize this, Jason, but my world stopped the day you left. I stayed up countless nights worried if there was something wrong, if you were hurt, if I did something wrong—“

“Of course not—“

“I know! I realized that I did my best. I stupidly loved you and I didn’t know what to do when you left me. Again.” You watched two kids bike on the sidewalk. Laughing in their joy.

“I was scared!” Jason stammered, voice straining. “I didn’t know what else to do, so I left!”

“Then what are you so afraid of?!” You closed your eyes, lowering your head into your other hand. The last thing you saw was one of the boys falling, scraping his knee on the pavement.

“It’s because you made me realize that I can be more!” His voice rose. “I realized that maybe I don’t just want to be Red Hood!” Jason paced, recklessly brushing his fingers through his hair.

You froze, listening to his ramble.

“I want to be more. I want to have something other than Red Hood and it’s scaring the absolute shit out of me.” Jason paused, taking his hands out of his hair.

Jason hunched forward trying to make himself as small as possible. Tightly wrapping his arms around himself.

“—the Red Hood helmet.” Jason whispered, so soft you barely heard the end of his sentence.

“What?” You breathlessly responded, keeping your head down, unconsciously mimicking Jason’s soft voice.

“For the first time, I wanted to take off the Red Hood helmet.” He meekly looked at you. His eyebrows crushed together in a horrified look like he, himself, was just realizing this fact.

Your chest stung. You’ve never heard Jason so terrified, trembling in fear, voice shaky.

“I don’t know if I can take off my helmet. I can’t be anything without it.” Jason admitted.

“So you decided to leave, to never say anything, to let me continue my life like you weren’t there?” You harshly told him.

“Yeah, I ran, but I checked on you. Making sure nothing happened as you walked to work, but every day I saw you looking worse.” Jason moved again, but you didn’t want to lift your head. “It never got better, so…I came back. Dammit, look at me!”

He slammed his fits on the table, the cup shaking in your harsh grip.

You lift your head. Staring straight into his eyes.

Jason looked terrified. Angry, yes, but absolutely terrified.

It almost made you laugh from disbelief.

“Whether you take off the helmet or not…” You hesitated. This was it. No more caving in. You leveled your voice, firm and harsh. “Doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

Silence.

The cup shattering in your hands, cutting your hand.

It stung.

Neither of you looking down first, until Jason broke eye contact.

He reached for your injured hand.

You got up, avoiding his touch, walking to the cabinet underneath the kitchen sink. Grabbing the first-aid kit.

Dripping small drops of blood on the floor.

When you turned around, you flinched.

He was gone.

Again.

Like another dream.

[urhoneycombwitch]

blurb based on this anon everyone say thank you anon <3

(No pronouns used for R)

On the fourth night in a row of you sleeping like shit, Eddie takes matters into his own hands.

He makes it his private quest- Operation Fair Maiden’s Slumber- to get you to sleep and stay asleep. Unbeknownst to you, he’d started earlier that afternoon, casually handing you a mug of chamomile tea along with your paperback. You both stay curled up on the trailer’s couch with your respective books for awhile, your legs in his lap, his warm palm stroking up your thigh, until the sun dipped low enough to warrant turning on all the lamps in the room. 

He makes you a proper, robust dinner- pasta and garlic bread, a carb-o-load for the ages to try and lull your stomach into hibernation. When the dishes are done, he asks if he can play you a song.

You get cozy in Eddie’s bed, blanket around your shoulders, while he sits cross-legged on the floor, plucking through the strings to tune. And when you’re settled, he starts playing- first it’s an old Fleetwood Mac song that he knows is your favorite, followed by a Bob Dylan single that he’s always found kinda hokey but he likes the way you close your eyes with the feeling of it.

All the while he keeps his singing soft, the melodies gentle, glancing up every so often to confirm you’re nestling deeper into the blankets. When he thinks you might’ve drifted off, he stealthily sets his guitar aside and climbs carefully onto the bed- only to startle when your eyes pop open, seemingly wide awake.

“Those were really nice songs,” you tell him, wrapping the blanket around you both so that he can lay across your body. “Thanks for giving me my own concert. I’m so lucky.”

“You deserve it, angel,” he says into your collarbone. As your arms wrap around his frame he slips his hands under your shoulders, cuddling into the warmth of you. “You want a bedtime story, too?”

When you nod, Eddie launches into a memorized monologue of the first chapter of Alice in Wonderland. It was one of your favorite books as a kid, so he’s hoping that the kick of nostalgia will be enough to send you off to dreamland.

And at first, he thinks it’s working- the small movements in your waist and shoulders he takes as a sign of your body settling into the mattress. But when the plush of your hip rolls against his crotch, he stops mid-sentence, affronted- “Baby... You’re supposed to be sleepy, not horny!”

“I can be both,” you pout, pulling Eddie towards you so that he’s forced to hover over you, his hair creating a curtain around your faces. “You’re just so handsome and sweet and I wanna thank you for your hard work…”

Your hand trails down his chest, against his stomach, and Eddie’s quickly losing the plot to his quest as you graze against his already half-hard clothed cock. 

“You’re s’posed to…” his forehead dips to crush against yours, hips rolling into your hand automatically. “Tryn’a get you… to sleep…”

“An orgasm would help.” You stretch up to press your lips against his, and he kisses you back, a little whimper in your throat swallowed up by his mouth.

Eddie doesn’t totally abandon his quest, in the end. It just gets re-titled:

Operation Give the Fair Maiden One Two Three Orgasms. For Bedtime. 

[trickphotography2]

Wanna Dance with Somebody

When his girlfriend of three months ditches a night at the Hard Deck after a rough day, Bradley knows just what to do to cheer her up.

Word Count: 1.8K

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

Off work yet?

Not yet. I have so much left to do in this last hour and a half.

Okay. Let me know when you’re on the way, and I’ll have your drink waiting.

Bradley glanced at his phone again to see if there was any update, only to see his last message left on read two hours later. Excusing himself from the pool table, he stepped out onto the patio of the Hard Deck. 

You answered on the third ring. “Hey,” you said, exhaustion coloring your voice. 

“Hey babe, just wanted to check where you were.” There was silence for a long moment before you sighed.

“Would…would you mind if I skipped out tonight? It’s been a shit day, and I’m exhausted.” 

“Yeah,” he frowned. “Everything okay?”

“Just a lot. I still have about an hour of work before I can log off for the night. And some of the shit is going to be Monday’s problem.” 

“Anything I can do?”

“No. As much as I appreciate it, no.” He could hear the smile in your tired voice. “Have a drink for me, tell everyone I said hi, and text me when you get home?” 

“Will do, babe. Lo…lock up, alright?”

“Always do,” you replied, confused by his strange request. “Night.”

“Night.” 

An hour and a half later, you shut down your computer and stowed it in your work bag, shoving that into the back of your closet. After changing into a pair of sweatpants and pulling on the wearable cat blanket that fell to your knees - Bradley had gotten it in a White Elephant Christmas exchange and shoved it into his closet, quickly giving it to you when you spied it the first time he made you dinner at his house and loved it - you shuffled toward the kitchen. Lunch had been a quick affair - a bag of chips and a mug of tea - since it had been a busy day. It was a busy week, to be honest. This time of year was always a shit show: people came out of the woodwork asking for help, projects that you pushed off were due, and new work started to pile up. It wasn’t until 3:00PM that you’d finished the stuff from yesterday and switched to today’s tasks. 

You zoned out while watching the microwave heat up leftover pizza from the weekend and contemplated stress crying in the shower. A quick, cathartic cry would be a good kick-off to the weekend, but that would also require the effort of actually getting into the shower. Eating seemed like a monumental task, so showering would be even worse. 

Beeping interrupted your musing, and you quickly silenced the microwave. The pizza was only lukewarm, but you ate it anyway. An open bottle of wine caught your eye when you refilled your water bottle, and you retrieved a wine glass from the cabinet. Thankfully, it was still carbonated after you’d shoved it onto the door shelf and jammed the stopper against the upper shelf. Pouring yourself a healthy measure, you retreated to the couch, tugging the blanket hood over your head. 

With the lights off, you grabbed your phone and mindlessly scrolled social media while lying on the couch. A few videos made you chuckle, and you sent them to your friends. The sun had long set, but you had no motivation to turn on any of the lights in your home. 

“Hey.”

“Fuck!” You shouted, jolting upright and sloshing the wine balanced beside you. The overhead living room light flicked on to reveal a smirking Bradley standing in the doorway. 

“You alright?” He asked, trying to school his expression as you wiped wine from your hoodie, blinking at the sudden brightness. 

“What are you doing here?” You demanded, glaring up at him. His mustache twitched as though he was trying not to grin - he had never seen you in “full gremlin mode,” as you called these nights, in the three months you’d been dating. 

“Just coming to check on you and bring you this,” Bradley said, holding up a bottle of your favorite wine. Your eyes darted between it and his face, feeling your anger fade. 

“Babe,” you groaned, setting your wine glass on the floor and pulling the hood down to cover your face as tears pricked your eyes. “You didn’t need to do that.” The carpet muffled his footsteps as he neared. Still, you heard the soft ‘thunk’ of the bottle and the metallic clanking of the spare key given to him to check your apartment when you went out of town for a conference hitting the coffee table before he gently pushed the fabric from your eyes. 

“Bad day or long one?”

“A bit of both,” you shrugged. “This week’s been…” He nodded, thinking about what you’d shared over the last few days. Glancing at your wine glass, he grabbed the bottle by the neck and removed the foil.

“Sounds like you need something to make you feel better, baby.”

“Sex?” Throwing his head back laughing, Bradley twisted the wire cage keeping the cork in place.

“We can get to that. I was thinking about something else, though.” A loud ‘pop’ sounded as he pulled the cork from the bottle, retrieved your glass from the floor, and filled it before handing it back to you. Once the bottle was back on the table, he pulled out his phone and connected it to your Bluetooth speakers. “Ready?”

“For what?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow.

The speaker started to play a familiar tune, followed by clapping. Bradley held out a hand to you, hips beginning to sway.  “Clock strikes upon the hour,” he crooned with Whitney Houston, “and the sun begins to fade.” 

Tossing your head back into the couch arm, you groaned as he sang along to I Wanna Dance with Somebody. When you didn’t take his hand, he playfully rolled his eyes, plucked his aviators from the pocket of his Hawaiian shirt, and put them to the tip of his nose. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to moonwalk on the carpet, hands closing around the unbuttoned sides of his shirt. 

His hips swung, fingers snapping while he danced and spun across your living room, fist raised to sing into an invisible microphone. Biting your lip against laughing, you watched him shake his ass while sliding the shirt down his arms, glancing over his shoulder at you in a pantomime of strip tease. While Bradley wasn’t the best dancer, he was certainly enthusiastic. Once free from his shirt, he tossed it at you, moving around your living room and singing loudly. “Oh, I wanna dance with somebody. I wanna feel the heat with somebody!” He wiggled an eyebrow at you, which was what made you crack. 

Laughing, you reached behind your head to turn on the floor lamp before pushing to your feet and going to turn off the overhead light. In the dim lighting, you watched him hold out a hand for you. 

As soon as your finger slid over his, he tugged, lifting his arm to spin you under it and then back again. His hand on your waist was a gentle pressure, muffled by the thick fabric, and you couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of you as he held you tightly and shimmied, crouching and hiding his grimace when his knees popped. On his way back up, his belt buckle caught on the fabric of your hoodie, tugging it upward. 

Bradley towered over you, smiling as he serenaded and swayed in a rhythm too slow for the song. “I been in love and lost my senses, spinning through the town,” he crooned. You felt butterflies in your stomach at the sincerity shining in his eyes at those words. 

“Sooner or later, the fever ends, and I wind up feeling down,” you joined in. “I need a man who'll take the chance on a love that burns hot enough to last. So when the night falls, my lonely heart calls - ”

Grinning, Bradley twirled you, tugging so you fell into him when the chorus picked up. His lips grazed your forehead, mustache tickling your temple as he rasped, “Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me.” 

Heart in your throat, you forced yourself to keep smiling as you danced. He was just singing the lyrics. Three months was too early to drop the ‘L’ word. When you pulled away, he caught your hands and spun you, crossing his arms over your front as your back pressed against his chest. His hold was a loose cage you had no desire to escape.

The song played as you swayed, head tipped back to rest on Bradley’s shoulder. The oversized hoodie, combined with the heat Bradley always threw, was getting to be overwhelming, but nothing could have made you move at that moment. 

His hand lifted to gently stroke your jaw, light pressure encouraging your chin up so he could kiss you. The song faded, but you barely paid attention as he licked into your mouth. Your hand lifted to trace the scars on his cheek before cupping around the back of his neck, fingers curling hair that was getting tiptoeing the edge of being out of regulation. 

There was a brief silence as the song ended before his playlist continued. “I need love, love, ooh, to ease my mind. And I need to find time, someone to call mine. My Mama said, ‘You can’t hurry love. No, you’ll just have to wait,” Phil Collins sang. Bradley chuckled against your lips. 

“What’s so funny, Lieutenant Bradshaw?” you asked, attempting to turn in his hold, but his tight grip stopped you. 

“Nothin’,” he replied, nipping your lower lip. “How’d you feel about grabbing your wine and hitting the shower, honey?” 

“I could go for shower wine.” 

The only crying you did in the shower was when Bradley went to his knees, your leg over his shoulder as he took you apart with his fingers and tongue. His eyes were soft as he washed your hair, taking the time to massage the tension from your neck and shoulders. His lips crashed into yours as you stroked his cock, feeling his hot spend against your stomach until he backed you under the shower spray to clean you off.

Later, he tucked you into bed and curled up behind you, drawing lazy circles on your stomach. The repetitive motion, coupled with his soft breathing, was lulling you into a trance. You hovered there, in that liminal space between awake and sleep. 

Bradley’s fingers paused, and he whispered your name. You felt the soft press of his lips against your shoulder, countering the gentle scratch of his mustache when you didn’t respond. “Love you, honey,” he whispered against your skin so softly you were sure you dreamt it.

“Love,” you mumbled, feeling Bradley’s arm tighten around you as you slipped over the edge into slumber.

Three months was too early to say you loved someone. 

But it wasn’t too early to dream it. 

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

Author's Note: Started thinking about this fic after a rough day at work and then it got lost in my drafts folder. Needed a bit of a pick-me-up recently, so I revisited this fic. Thanks for reading!

If you would like to be added to my tag list, please fill out this form.

Taglist: @shanimallina87; @roosterforme

[justafandomgvrl]

Sniffles

Steven Grant x GN!reader

You don’t know how it happened, but you got sick. Steven refuses to leave your side once he realises.

words: 500ish

fluff. cuteness. adorable boyfriend behaviours.

You cough. Again.

You haven’t managed to get any sleep, unable to sleep through the pain in your head and the intermittent sneezes and coughing. Your phone buzzes for the umpteenth time since you cancelled your date with Steven, with a small apology and telling you had a cold and didn’t want to get him sick. You still ignore it, wanting to stay safe in the darkness of your room.

What does get your attention is your front door creaking open. You groan as you sit up, wrapping your blankets around you.

“Hello?” You croak out, coughing again from the effort of speaking.

“It’s just me, love.” Steven’s voice immediately soothes your worry and you relax your shoulders, padding through your flat to see him in the kitchen. “I was worried about you, so I thought I’d come make you some soup and then I could keep an eye on you as well, yeah, so let’s get you settled down on the couch and I’ll bring you a cup of tea-”

“Steven.” You interrupt as he gently led you to your couch, sitting you down. “I don’t want to get you sick, and I’m a mess right now.” You whisper as his arms lingered around you.

“You look perfect, love. Let me take care of you.” He leaves no room for argument and you sigh, sinking down on to the couch. “There we go, that’s it.” He murmur, wrapping your blankets tighter around you. He presses his lips to your forehead, your skin hot against him. He scurries into your kitchen and makes you a cup of tea, bringing it to you with a small smile. “There you go, darling. Nice warm cup of tea to help soothe that poor throat of yours. I even put honey in it for you.” You smile at him weakly, reaching for the cup with shaky fingers.

“Thank you, Steven.” You mumble. He eases into the spot next to you, wrapping an arm around you and picking up the TV remote. He automatically puts your favourite show on, before pulling you fully into his arms. “I don’t wanna get you sick.” You protest weakly but he shakes his head.

“I’ll be fine, love.” He whispers against your hair, refusing to let go of you. You sigh, giving in and nesting against his chest, still gripping your mug of tea.

You occasionally sip from it, and Steven is right, it was soothing your throat. You don’t want to admit it. He knows, though. He always does. He gently unwraps from you and you whine, missing him immediately.

“Oh love, it’s okay, I’m just going to make you that soup I promised, yeah? Just watch the show.” Steven murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek before going to the kitchen. You sigh, wrapping yourself tighter in your blankets.

Steven comes back through with the soup half an hour later, and it pains him to see the way you’re curled up on yourself. He places the soup down on the table in front of you before wrapping himself around you again. You hum, letting him take the cup from your hands so you can cling to him.

“Thank you,” you whisper. He smiles against your hair.

“Anytime, love. I love you.” He doesn’t have to say it. You know.

[lalacliffthorne]

Rhys is very strict when it comes to mandatory movie night at the flat. even in the face of a cold.

(*sighs contently* this idea was waiting in my drafts. a lovely anon reminded me of it, so it's only fair that it's next on the list of modern!batboys drabbles.)

There was a deep call of my name, and I sneezed.

The door to my room was pushed open, and when I raised my head, trying to keep my itchy, raw nose from twitching, Cassian appeared in the door, sending me an easy grin. "Evening, sweets."

I blinked at him, feeling another sneeze build in my chest. I must've been quite the sight, curled up in a hoodie Azriel had given me and I had not yet returned, buried under my blanket in my rumpled sheets, hair messy and nose probably red from all the sneezing, surrounded by an armada of used tissues.

When nothing happened, I cleared my throat and grinned weakly, my voice hoarse from coughing and slightly nasal when I mumbled: "Hi." Feeling my brows crunch, I stared at the bag in his hand. "What's that?"

"Rhys called earlier and said you were out of meds, so I went to get you some on my way back home." Cassian stepped over some clothes that were haphazardly thrown onto the floor, and I quickly held out my hand.

"No, no, don't, I don't - wanna get you sick."

Cassian just rolled his eyes good-naturedly and, completely ignoring the weak sound of protest I made, plopped onto the mattress, stretching out with a sigh and leaning against the headboard as he dropped the bag onto the blanket next to me.

Giving up on glaring at him, I leaned forward and pulled it towards me, sniffling lightly.

Something swelled and warmed under my ribs when I peaked into the bag and found not only medicine, but also tea, juice, a big family package of tissues, some chocolate -

Feeling my heart skip gently, I raised my head and felt emotion well in my chest, so much so, my voice was a bit thick when I stared at Cassian with crunched brows, feeling my bottom lip jut out as I sniffled. "Thank you."

Cassian smirked and winked at me. "You're welcome, sweets." He eyed the assortment of mugs on my nightstand next to him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone chewed me up and then spit me out again,", I grumbled, crunching my nose to suppress a sneeze and causing Cassian to grin.

"Hey."

I raised my head, and Rhys stuck his head into the room, frowning. "What are you doing?"

"Visiting the patient." Cassian sent him a toothy grin that widened when I hit him with a pillow, turning into a light smirk. "I think she's feeling better already."

I flipped him off.

Rhys grinned and opened the door wider to lean against the doorframe, raising an eyebrow. "Az should be back any moment, you two coming?"

I sniffled, frowning back at him. "Where?"

"The living room." Rhys squinted at me like he was questioning my sanity. "Does she have a fever?"

Cassian reached out, and I was too busy sniffling to slap his hand away when he pressed his palm against my forehead.

"Little warm, but I think that could just be my presence -" This time, the pillow hit him into the face, causing him to snort a deep laugh.

"Well, darling,", Rhys sent me a feline grin, "then you are not excused. It's Saturday." He winked easily. "Movie night."

Breathing out through my half clogged nose, I leaned my head against the wall, sending him a crooked grin. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. I really don't wanna get you guys sick."

Rhys smirked. "I hate to break it to you, love, but you've been sneezing for days; I think that ship has sailed. We either already got it or won't get it at all."

I squinted. "I'm - not sure that's how it works."

Rhys' lips curved, and he raised a brow.

Returning his twinkling stare for a moment, I then breathed out slowly in resignation, but something warmed in my chest as I felt my lips curve and grumbled: "Fine..."

Rhys sent me a wink. "Thank you."

I snuggled into my blanket, sniffling as I pouted a little. "Do I have to get up?"

Cassian raised his brows when Rhys narrowed his eyes in thought, the twinkle in his iris suddenly becoming brighter.

"Actually,", he pushed off the doorframe, "I don't think you do."

Looking up at him in confusion, I watched Rhys' violet eyes sparkle as he raised a brow at me. "Unless you have something against all of us camping out in here?"

"Uhm -", I blinked.

"You might wanna tidy up a little though." The curve of Rhys' lips became wicked as he raised his brows, and when I followed his gaze, my ears heated at the sight of the underwear hanging out of a drawer.

Hastily, I flipped Rhys the bird, only causing him to sent me a mischievous wink while Cassian's head tipped back as his shoulders shook with laughter.

"Fuck off,", I grumbled, lightly kicking his shin, and Rhys chuckled and sent me a wide grin.

"I don´t think any of us would be complaining, but -"

"Do you want movie night or do you want me to lock myself in here?!" I desperately tried to hold back a laugh as I stared at him exasperatedly, my nose itching, and laughing, Rhys turned around.

"Sorry, love."

"Tosser,", I grumbled, sniffling.

Rhys called for Cassian before sticking his head back into the room, sending me a cheeky grin. "There's chicken noodle soup in the kitchen."

I glared halfheartedly at him and pushed my blanket to the side, and Cassian rose, still shaking with chuckles, even as I launched a pillow at him.

Shaking my head and fighting the grin pushing onto my face, I slowly started to pick up the clothes strewn around the room, tossing them into the dirty laundry basket. Sniffling, I threw away all the used tissues before shaking out my blanket and picking up as many of the used cups I could carry. Taking them into the kitchen, I returned to get the rest, barely suppressing a sneeze as I passed Cassian who carried both his and Rhys' duvet into my room. Looking after him with a confused frown, I blinked before huffing and shrugging, turning around to trudge back into the kitchen.

Even with my clogged up nose, I could smell the hearty scent coming from the big pot on the stove, and my stomach grumbled.

Taking the ridiculously huge mugs Mor had gotten me for my last birthday out of the cabinet, I was just putting the kettle on when I heard the front door open and close.

My heart skipped softly at the sound of boots being kicked off and the zipper of a jacket, and when I looked over my shoulder, something tipped over in my chest when Azriel appeared in the doorway. The tip of his nose was a little pink from the cool wind as he ran a hand through his tousled hair, his shoulders shifting under his black hoodie, then he raised his head, and something dipped lightly in my chest when he stilled a little.

I raised a hand and waved.

Azriel's lips slowly tipped upwards, and his iris seemed to begin twinkling a little as he slowly stepped into the kitchen, eyes moving over my face.

"Hey."

His deep, low voice caused my heart to tumble. I tried to hold in the tickling sensation suddenly building in my nose and opened my mouth - only to crunch my face and sneeze loudly into my elbow.

There was a deep snort that sent warmth through me, followed by footsteps, then something brushed against my elbow, and when I raised my head, nose tingling and eyes a little watery, my heart dipped and swerved as Azriel suddenly towered over me.

"Guess that makes the question about whether you're feeling better unnecessary." His cheek was creasing as he grinned lightly down at me, his eyes twinkling as he reached out, carefully brushing a strand of hair to the side that had gotten caught in my lashes.

Somehow managing to ignore the tilting feeling in my chest, I made a face at him, and Azriel's lips curved. The golden spots in his iris were dancing as his gaze moved over my face, a strand of dark hair falling into his forehead, and my breath hitched a little as I stared up at him, his body so close I swore I felt the warmth radiating off of him.

Azriel blinked, then he crunched his brows a little. "Why was Rhys carrying the projector into your room?"

Half an hour later, I was snuggled up in my blankets again, pillows stuffed into my back, legs pulled in a little as I carefully blew away the steam rising from my big mug with chicken noodle soup. On my left, Rhys was buried under his blanket, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head and violet eyes twinkling in the light of the projector I didn´t even know existed in our flat and that was humming softly at the foot of my bed, casting the opening credits onto the blank wall opposite of my bed.

A solid shoulder lightly pressed into mine, and my heart missed a beat, dipping and tilting.

Azriel was sitting on my right, long legs stretched out in front of him. The scent of his cologne was rising into my nose because of the proximity, and I could feel the warmth radiating from him. He had changed into sweatpants and a sweatshirt, his golden eyes bright, reflecting the light of the beamer. I could glimpse Cass on his other side, hair pulled back messily, arms folded comfortably over his chest and buried under his blanket.

The shadow of a crease formed in Azriel's cheek, then he turned his head, and my breath hitched when his warm breath brushed over my temple. Then his deep, low voice sounded right next to my ear in a soft mumble.

"You can keep that hoodie by the way."

My breath hitched; my eyes darting up quickly as I winced a little and opened my mouth to apologize sheepishly, but Azriel just huffed lightly and looked back ahead, the crease in his cheek deepening.

"It's okay." His lips curved a little. "It looks better on you anyway."

Staring up at him as something suddenly rose and fluttered wildly in my chest, I blinked, then I quickly turned my gaze back ahead. Biting down on the inside of my cheek to hold back the ridiculously bright smile trying to push onto my face, I snuggled deeper into the pillows, burying myself in Azriel's hoodie as I stared up at the images flashing over the wall. There was a steady, warm thrum under my ribs as I felt Azriel's shoulder press into mine, his solid body radiating warmth just like Rhys' on my other side, and my lips slowly curved into a soft, bright smile.

Then I crunched my nose to suppress a sneeze.

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate123 @bookishbroadwaybish @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds

[mentality-project]

Carry Me Home - Part 2

Morpheus x fem!reader

While being tucked into bed by the King of the Nightmare Realm was lovely, waking up with a hangover from Hell was not.

A pitiful groan works its way up your throat as you roll over to the cool side of your bed, trying to find relief for your overheated skin. You kick off the blanket as you snuggle into the cold, trying to will your body back to sleep as you chase after the last scene of your dream.

After a few more moments of tossing and turning, you admit defeat and blink open weary eyes. Once the waking world comes into focus, the sight of painkillers and a tall glass of water on your beside table greet you.

It could only be Morpheus’ doing. You weren’t capable of such forethought last night. With a grimace on your face, you drag yourself upright enough to pop the pills in your mouth and chase them down with a gulp of water. Its at the temperature of ice water despite the lack of condensation and you could cry from the relief it brings your parched throat.

“Fuckkk…I love you, Morph.” you mumble against the rim of your glass as you lean back against the headboard.

“He loves it when you say that.”

The speed at which you turn your head towards the raven perched at the end of your bed nearly gives you whiplash.

“How the fuck did you get in?”

“The bathroom window was open.”

“Oh.”

You and Matthew sit in comfortable silence as you continue to sip your glass of heavenly water.

“What did you mean by that?”

“What?”

You shoot Matthew a death stare over the rim of your glass.

“Oh, the boss loves it every time you say you love him. Makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

You nearly snort water out of your nose. “Dream? Warm and fuzzy? Seriously?”

“I am being serious!” Matthew’s feathers puff up with indignation, "Every time you say those words, Dream becomes a much more lenient boss. He takes whatever opportunity he can get to be close to you." "That's..." you clear you throat, wishing there was some water left in your glass, "That's a lot of information before breakfast."

"Sorry, kid. Rough night?"

"Fun night, rough hangover." you manage a grin as you set the empty glass back down, "Wanna stick around for a cuppa tea, Matthew?"

"I'd love to."

"Cool. Be a dear and boil the kettle for me, would you? There should be enough water in it. I'm gonna have a quick shower first, feel free to help yourself to whatever's in the kitchen."

"Don't have to tell me twice."

Matthew swoops out the door as you drag yourself off to the bathroom.

--- You hear the sound of the kettle switch flicking off and the rumble of boiling water as you round the corner, drying your hair off with the towel draped around your shoulders.

"Feeling better?" Matthew asks from his spot on the kitchen counter.

"Definitely," you sigh as you hang the damp towel over the back of one of the chairs, "What kind of tea do you fancy today, Matthew?"

"Earl Grey, please." "Milk, sugar?"

"Yes to both." You take two mugs out of the cupboard, pausing as you notice the small parcel by the kettle. It has your name on it.

"What's this?" you ask as you tug at the string to unwrap it.

"Hangover cure from the Boss."

"Dream was here?" you blink over your shoulder at Matthew.

"Nah, he had me send it over. Under strict instructions to make sure that you drink it. Not allowed to come back until you do."

No wonder Matthew agreed to stick around for breakfast. You almost snort with laughter as you unfold the wrapping, which turns out to also be a handwritten note from Dream. Upon seeing the size of the cloth teabag, you swap your mug for a tea bowl and begin to read as you pour the hot water into it.

Your Grace,

The corners of your mouth creep up into a smile. Could it be? Do you share an inside joke with the Dream Lord now?

According to the dreams of the best apothecaries in the Waking World over the last millennia, this tea contains the best herbs to help alleviate the aftermath of overindulging in alcohol. I hope it is of use to you. - Morpheus

You are practically glowing as you lift the note to your lips and press a kiss to the parchment.

"I love you." your whisper, watching in amazement as the note dissipates into sand and stardust.

You lift the bowl to your lips, taking care to blow a couple of times before taking a careful sip, eyes widening in surprise.

"Huh...not bad."

"Where's mine?" Matthew squawks in an accusatory tone.

"Sorry, sorry."

You get to work brewing Matthew his cuppa, changing your mind about the kind of mug you originally picked and deciding on a wide teacup to make drinking more convenient for him. You ratio the water and milk out so the tea is at the perfect drinking temperature before placing the drink in front of him and heading over to the toaster.

"Would you like some toast, Matthew?"

"Sure, I'll have a slice."

"What do you want on it?"

"Got any butter?"

You retrieve the tub of butter from the fridge, along with some avocado and smoked salmon for yourself - that combo with a sprinkle of black pepper has you in a chokehold lately. After you butter Matthew's toast accordingly, you rip it up into bite-sized pieces before sliding the plate towards him. Matthew murmurs his thanks before digging in with gusto. You lean your head against your palm as your elbow presses into the countertop, watching Matthew as you chew your own mouthful of toast, contemplating. Eventually, you're brave enough to break the silence.

"Why'd you tell me all that stuff?"

"Hmm?" Matthew buries his beak in his tea, the hum being the only indication that he heard you.

"About Morph, and how...how he feels about me...?" "Honestly?" Matthew stares you down and you stare back at him, "there's only so much one can take of watching the slowest slow-burn ever." You gulp down on your tea so fast you start to choke on it.

"C'mon kid, between you and me, you know you've gotta be the one to say something. The Boss has all the time in the world. He's Endless. By the time he works up the courage to make first move, you'll be dead and buried. No offence."

"None taken." you mumble around a mouthful of toast. There's not much conversation after that and you're quite content to eat the rest of your breakfast in silence. Matthew's given you a lot to think about. -- "Hey Boss, how's it going? (Y/N) drank that tea you sent her, all of it. And...Boss? Hey, you okay? Boss?"

Matthew tilts his head at the sight of Morpheus on his throne, but for all his trying, Morpheus doesn't appear to hear the loyal raven.

No, he's far too occupied with the lingering feeling of your kiss pressed into his cheek from his stardust, fingertips still on his cheekbone as if he's trying to keep the feeling there. In his other hand, the parchment materialises, your words scrawled in the smallest print as if it is a secret:

'I love you.'

[cherryredstars]

CONGRATS ON 1k!!!

You writing is truly incredible, you deserve all the love and support!!

If it’s okay, can you write Simon Riley with the prompt ‘reader is sick’? I’d love the comfort after I embarrassed myself by passing out in uni a few days ago because I neglected myself and didn’t wanna be marked as absent,,

I saw that you already wrote this prompt with O’hara. And I wasn’t sure if it was allowed to also request it with ghost, so pls don’t feel pressured to write this and I am sorry if it’s against the rules

Than you in advance, and again congrats!! I wish you the best!!

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Self-Neglection/Passing Out

Summary: The best way to be brought back to health.

A/N: Simon is so!!!! I love him guys!!!

Word Count: 1.1K (Not Edited)

“Don’t look at me.”

You turn away from Simon, a small pout on your face and a sniffle to try to unblock your nose. He’s giving you that look. The one that is supposed to make you feel guilty by not directly making you feel guilty. It screams of disappointment and a lecture in the near future. He huffs out, something mixed with annoyance and amusement before you feel the bed dip. You try to push his hand out of your face, looking like a feral cat as you try to slap it away. His strength easily overpowers yours, but he lets you have your moment in hopes of tiring you out enough to coax you into a nap. When he deems it an appropriate enough time to look like you put up a decent fight, he easily knocks your hands away and presses the back of his hand to your forehead. 

It’s warm, too warm, even for Simon. He tries to hide the grimace that forms on his face but you catch it. You groan, flipping over onto your stomach to bury your face into the pillow. Simon tsks, grabbing the pillow out from under you. Your head hits the mattress whipping your head to the side to glare at him. He glares right back, not backing down from this silent challenge you’ve created. 

“Nough, love. You’re already having trouble breathin’ as it is without you suffocating ‘rself.” 

You continue your glaring pout, even as he gently slips his hand under your head to lift it so he can place the pillow back under you. Your face only softens when he starts to push your hair away from your forehead, pressing a kiss to the heated skin. You sigh sadly, body sinking into the mattress. Your whole body aches, muscles protesting with each movement. Your head is the same, a slight pounding at your temple that is only dulled by pain medicine. Simon coos gently at you as he pulls away, mumbling something about getting you something warm to eat. Before he leaves, he tucks the blanket tight around you. 

You sigh as you wait for him, hearing the chatter of pans as he heats up soup. He comes back a few minutes later, a steaming mug in his hand. You expect it to be tea, but you’re overjoyed to find hot cocoa. When you try to reach for it, he pulls it back quickly with a glare. 

“Hot.” he scolds, gently giving it to you again. “And it’s water, not milk.”

That slightly deflates you, but a win is a win. You rather have watery hot chocolate than his bitter earl grey. You hum in thanks, watching him leave again as you take a sip. Your face scrunches up when you pull the mug away, swallowing quickly as you shake your head. It is very hot and you’re sure every nerve on your tongue withered away. Simon returns with a bowl of soup, making your stomach rumble at the thought of food. You prepare to take it, but Simon shakes his head at you. He swirls the spoon around, taking some and holding it steadily to your mouth. 

You frown at him, and don’t meet his eyes as you take the soup into your mouth. It’s good, really good, but the taste is spoiled with your attitude. Or rather, Simon’s attitude. He’s mad. He doesn’t seem mad with his lovey dovey behavior and feeding, but he is. You know him. This is gentle punishment. Him taking overly good care of you to make up for the fact you aren’t taking care of yourself. Hint, the reason why you’re home sick after passing out. 

As he prepares another spoonful of soup, you sniffle. “Sorry.”

He pauses for a second, before feeding you another spoonful. Even with your eyes downcast, he can tell they're glassy. He sighs, lowering the bowl of soup for a moment. His hand finds your jaw. He doesn’t lift your head up, he pulls your face closer to him to press a kiss into your hair. You relax into the affection, sniffing once again. 

“Just want you to take care of ‘urself, love. That’s all,” He grumbles into your hair, thumb gently rubbing your skin. 

He pulls away, switching the mug and bowl. The bowl is warm in your hands, and you look up as Simon places the mug on the nightstand where you can easily reach it. He settles next to you on the bed, silently watching you as you eat. It makes your stomach warm, and you sigh contently when you finish. Simon takes the bowl from you, giving back your mug. The cocoa is cooler now, but still warm. You gulp it down greedily, stomach feeling overly full. You push the mug onto the bedside table, snuggling back into the blankets when Simon returns. 

He hums, observing the way your eyes begin to flutter in preparation to sleep. He taps your cheek gently, and you scrunch your nose up as you spot the medicine in his hands. You try to squirm away from him, but he cages you in between his legs. You glare up at him as he shoves the medicine to your mouth. You turn your head away, but his other hand grips your jaw and holds your mouth open. You have a pleading look in your eyes that he ignores, pouring the medicine into your mouth. You gag as you’re forced to swallow, greedily taking the small bottle of water Simon offers you. You gulp it down, washing away the sour taste. You finish the whole bottle and throw it at Simon, which he only rolls his eyes too. 

“I thought you weren’t mad at me! Stop punishing me already!”

Simon only gives you a deadpan look, shaking his head. “Go to bed, darling. Need the rest. Eyes are practically sinkin’ into your ‘ead and you're becoming delusional.”

You huff out, but listen. You sink into the pillows, your headache and nose finally calming down enough to sleep comfortably. Simon places another pillow under your head, moving around you silently to clean up the mess or dishes and trash. Before he goes, you take his wrist in your hand. He turns to look at you curiously, and you blink and smile sluggishly up at him. 

“Thank you, Si. Love you.”

Simon’s eyes soften and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead again. You close your eyes, and they refuse to open again even after he pulls away. You can vaguely feel the warmth of his palm on your cheek, and you snuggle into it. He rubs at the skin gently before pulling away, and three words break through your mind before you fall asleep. 

“Love you, too.”

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hey babe!!xX was wondering if you could write a smut where the reader just straight up kicks ass during a whole mission, then when they get home and cleaned up tange can tell she’s exhausted. She insists she’s fine and attempts to finish up on work/research but he knows she just needs some love and rest. Praise & soft words/touches? Thank you so much!!

hii bby!! really sorry I didn’t do smut for this one😔 i intended on it, but it was so wholesome and sweet and felt it was a good ending point. but I do have lots of tan smut and could pretend that it’s a continuation. hope that’s okay. thanks for requesting💌

—

TAKE A BREAK

tangerine x fem!reader

word count: 562

warnings: none just fluff

✧.┊ MASTERLIST

Work was rough, nothing else to it- simply tiresome and agonising work.

You and the twins had just returned home from a two-week-long stakeout in Ireland, and to say you were exhausted would be an understatement. For the whole way back, all you thought about was your bed- how you wanted nothing more than to snuggle under the fresh sheets, but as much as you craved that, there was still paperwork to finish. 

As soon as you and Tan made it through the front door, you made a beeline for the shower, immediately undressing and stepping in, literally washing away the grime from your time away.

Once washed and dried, you walk back into your room and pick out some comfy clothes for the night- deciding on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of fluffy socks. You shove your feet in your slippers and make your way downstairs, laptop and case files under your arm with an old mug clutched in your hand. 

You place your work stuff on the dining table and head to the kitchen, collecting a couple of drinks -water for hydration and tea for flavour- before strolling back to the table to begin even more work. 

You weren't sure if your brain could handle much more, and as much as you tried to keep going, you couldn't help but notice a sharp pain behind your eye. 

"You're gonna give yourself a headache," Tangerine softly speaks from the doorframe, pj bottoms hanging low as wet, clean curls framed his face. "I think you should call it a night. It's late."

"No— no, I'm fine. Haven't got much left anyway," you dismiss your boyfriend, a faux smile on your face. "Shouldn't take long."

"Nah, love. That's enough. You're knackered," he says sweetly, standing behind you as he rubs your tense shoulders. "We should go to bed." He offers, trailing a comforting hand up your neck, fingers grazing your scalp.

"It's okay, really. I just—"

"No," he cuts you off, kissing a soft speck behind your ear. "It can wait 'til morning, love," he saves your work and closes the screen. "Come on, darlin’." He smiles, extending a hand for you to take.

You reluctantly do as asked, placing your hand in his larger one, allowing him to lead you to the sofa. He settles down first, laying on his side, head propped up on his fist, before nodding for you to lay in front. Again, you do as instructed -far too tense to protest- and lay down next to him, your chest to his as you drape a leg over his thigh, snuggling closer.

"You can't keep overworking yourself, love. It ain't healthy," he softly scolds, craning his neck to find your adverting eyes. "Okay? You need love and rest," he adds, brows furrowing as if to emphasise his point. 

A gentle, genuine smile spreads as you nod, looking up at him in awe. His features mirror yours, sweetly looking down at you as he thumbs over the apples of your cheek. 

"Promise you'll cut back," he notices you hesitate and then narrows his eyes as if to intimidate you playfully. "Promise?" He adds and kisses the tip of your nose for encouragement.

"Promise," you reply, your tone somewhat dubious.

"That's good enough for now," he grins, flattening a soft blanket over you both. "Now roll over. I wanna watch Miranda."

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

tan taglist: @tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @angel-of-new-orleans @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things @astermath @dynamitehacke @boldlyimportantface @charmedkim @fruitlovertangerine @psiiconic @bubblezuku @sporadiccherryblossom @landryslove @daenerys-supremacy @dontknownameauthor @honestly-who-even-is-this @simplyreflected

[daenysx]

hi!! can you write fluff about reader being scared of thunderstorm and sirius is comforting her??

thank you for requesting!! ♡ requests are open

sirius black x fem!reader, modern au + fluff

you cling to sirius tighter in bed as if that's possible.

the room is a bit cold with the rain outside, sirius got one more blanket for you before you fall asleep but he's the warmest still. your head is on his neck, his nose is buried in your hair to smell your shampoo. his bare arms are around you to pull you closer. he kisses your hair in his sleep.

raindrops hit the window cruelly, it's louder when there's no other noise. you are on the edge of falling into a deep slumber, but you can still hear the noises. your leg finds its way under the blankets to stay in between sirius's legs, you press your ear to the pillow.

a brightness fills the dark room, lightning and then a noise of thunder. you flinch as if you've been woken up by someone throwing water on your face, your eyes wide open. another loud noise strucks the room and you lean to your elbow, your arm hits sirius without meaning to.

sirius blinks his eyes open, his hair is a mess as he lifts his head. he doesn't understand what happens until another light covers the room, he reaches for your hand blindly.

"baby." he whispers. "it's okay. it's- let me turn on the lights."

you sit on the bed as he leaves. he turns on the lights and rubs his eyes, he tries to fix his hair but it never works so he gives up. you look up to him, pushing the blankets off. "sorry, siri." you say. "i didn't mean to wake you."

"nonsense, babe." he shrugs. he knows you'll not be able to sleep through the storm. you are already wide awake as if you didn't fall asleep. you hate the sound of the storm, how it feels like everything falls apart outside. it's a scary thing to see the light first and wait for the loud noise of the thunder.

sirius comes back to your side, he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and rubs your cheek with his thumb. he is staying close in case you want him to hold you, his mind is slowly waking up. he gives you a smile, there's nothing to worry about.

"i think," he starts. "it's the perfect hour to drink a cup of tea, what do you say?"

"if you insist." you say, smirking just like he does. he distracts you and you let him.

"i can even carry you to kitchen." he offers but you know he's bluffing. "wanna be my princess?"

"thank you, but i prefer walking." you kiss his cheek as you leave the bed. he holds your hand on the way to kitchen, his steps are slow and unstable. he yawns, still not awake enough. you kiss his naked shoulder as a way of apologising to wake him up.

"up you go." sirius lifts you to sit on the kitchen counter. he turns on the lights before he puts some water into the kettle.

"thank you." you say, waiting for the water to boil. "you have work tomorrow, you won't get enough sleep."

sirius leans in to put his head on your shoulder. you hug his shoulders, his body between your legs as you stroke his messed up hair. he kisses you until it tickles your skin. you laugh, pulling his head gently to see his face.

"i can function just fine with less sleep, babe, you know i've gone to work countless times after we hang out."

a loud thunder mixes with the noise of kettle and you flinch. sirius holds your waist, his eyes are bright as he looks at you. a kiss on your nose, then on your jawline. "it's okay."

"i can't help it."

"i know." sirius squeezes the softness of your thighs, rubs the skin with comforting circles. the kettle stops. sirius brings two tea bags without lifting his hand from your leg. you help him take two mugs from the cupboard and he prepares teas with his one free hand.

"wanna stay here?" he asks. "or go the couch? or the bed? or-"

"we can go to bed." you smile.

sirius carries the mugs as you settle down on bed. it's not as warm as it was before, you move your legs under blanket. he puts the steaming mugs on his nightstand and wraps his arms around you.

the rain doesn't seem like it'll stop until the morning, sirius checks the weather forecast on his phone. he tightens his hold on you, brushes kisses on your hair. he hands you your mug as he takes a sip from his.

"careful, sweetness." he says, the tea is still so hot.

"i won't burn you, sirius." you say, chuckling.

"okay, maybe stop laughing with the hot tea in your hand."

"no, come on." you say, he puts both of your cups back to their places.

"hm, i don't trust you." he says, he buries his face to your neck, his fingers pressing to your waist. he tickles you until you squirm under him, laughing as if your life depends on it. he tires you out, you are breathless when he stops. the sounds of thunderstorm become faint with your laughs, sirius plays with you for minutes.

"okay." you say, your cheeks are blushing so hard. "okay, stop! i'll sleep, promise-"

"i'll sleep." you say. "just stop tickling."

"yeah?" he asks, smirking devilishly. "you'll sleep?"

"it was a pleasure to engage nightly activities with you, sweetling." he winks. "come on, you really should sleep now."

sirius quickly turns the lights off. you feel really tired, you snuggle against his body to get comfy.

"i think the storm is less loud now." you say. "is it?"

"yes, and it'll probably stop entirely in a few hours." sirius replies. "but if you feel uncomfortable, wake me up. don't try to get through the night by yourself."

"okay." you say, kissing him thanks.

"good night, baby." he says. the tea goes cold on his nightstand.

[wifey-ohara]

Dancing in the kitchen with Miguel, is all I ask I BEG you

Okokokkkkk🥺😣🩷

Dancing in the dark (you between my arms)

miguel x gn!Reader

Notes: I've been post poning this so hard im sorry, idk how to write dancing and mushy feelings, fluff, romance, love, i wanna write mild!Miguel, tell me how i did? Sleepy miguel, i love when the fic isn't so over-descriping and letting the reader's imagination take hold, i makes me kick my feet and giggle like a teenager, Not proof read as always, inspired by @/dominimoonbeam's "dancing in the kitchen with a vampire" on tumblr and Ao3

When miguel woke up and didn't find you in his arms, he was confused

turning around and looking at the digital clock on the bedside table seeing the digits 3:10am,so where are you?

he thought you went to the bathroom , so he waited for you, then he heard some noise in the kitchen, which was weird, did you get hungry?,but you two had a fulfilling dinner a few hours prior

He got out of the warmth of his bed, and went into the living room

There was a book flipped upside down with a couple of mugs and cups, a blanket left abandoned on the couch, and your reading playlist playing on the TV, calm music echoing around in a low hum

He started looking for you, only to find you in the kitchen making yet another cup of tea

"love what are you doing it's 3:00 a.m" he mumbled looking at you so through narrowed eyes due to the lighting

"ah! I didn't see you there, did i wake you?" you replied a bit surprised

he went over to you and put his arms on your waist and rested his head on your shoulders

"please let's just get back to bed, the book isn't going to disappear in the morning" he tried to reason,head nuzzled in your neck, kissing it

" but I'm almost done, like I only have four chapters left " you argued, using your best pleading voice in a whisper

he groaned, pressing into your neck even more, the quiet leaving only the hum of the TV between you, giving you an idea

Turning around in his hold and putting your hands on his shoulder, your cup of tea forgotten,you started to sway to the rhythm

"what are you doing?" he lived with his head saying ever so softly,a small smile on his face

" I want to dance with you" you answered, smiling

putting his hands properly on your waist so he can sway with, and just like that sweet hums,you two floated to the music,with your head on his chest listening to his steadily beating heart, your hands on his shoulders firm and strong, his arms on your waist keeping you grounded as he did millions of times, his head on your shoulder enjoying your scent

You two stayed like that, swimming through the calm tones, exchanging sweet words and cute giggles

As the song came to an end, he looked down at, all comfortable and cozy in his arms

"can we go back to bed now? " he asked, voice low, smile making it's place on his features

You pouted, looked away, but agreed, in the condition of him carrying you, he did so gladly

This is so cute i can't 😭🥺

[nohoney]

wake nd bake with keigo. set in the same world as this post.

warnings: weed, smut

You are the first to wake up before your boyfriend, your consciousness rousing from your dream and bringing you back to reality. Your body is still sleepy, it’s so cozy in the bedsheets, and Keigo is still softly snoring. Sun filters through the curtains of the room, the color orange dashing away the blue hour as it begins to rise. It’s barely 6:30 and you’re excited to have breakfast.

“Baby, good morning!” You snuggle up to your boyfriend and press a kiss to his cheek. He rouses a little and you repeat your greeting, “ I said good morning!”

He wakes with a quiet laugh that’s followed by a yawn. He stretches his arms and legs in bed, a satisfied groan echoing into the air before he relaxes and finally returns your greeting, “Good morning, lovebird. How’d you sleep?”

“I slept good. I had a dream last night.” You tell him, wanting to speak of it now before all the details escaped your mind and you’d never recall it again. Keigo listens quietly, humming occasionally to show he’s paying attention. As you speak, the two of you start to get up to make the bed together. It’s a collaborative effort to smooth down the blankets, fold the extra throw blankets, and also fluff up the pillows.

The bed is neat by the time you finish talking about your dream.

The first thing that you do in the morning is to reach for a joint that he rolled last night. It’s wrapped with your favorite paper that tastes like strawberries. There’s a small tin of lighters that you and him just accumulate by accident, grabbing a black one that’s etched with his friend’s name onto the cheap design of it. That friend had learned to stop lending out lighters to you at this point since you’d forget to return them.

You get the first hit, you always do, excited to feel the weed hit your body and make the morning day a little slower. You carefully lift yourself to sit onto the kitchen countertop, not even having bothered to put on any pants and still in your panties. One thing about your home is that you and Keigo are probably a little too free, walking around naked pretty frequently if not at least really under dressed.

All that stands between Keigo being completely naked is just his underwear and house slippers.

“Kettle is coming on babe, what tea do you want this morning?” Keigo asks as he flips the switch of the electric kettle and then moves to bring out a matching mug set from the cupboards.

“Earl grey. I think there’s still some scones in the freezer. Pop them in the little oven.” You answer after blowing smoke between your lips. The joint is passed to your boyfriend, he holds it between his lips, the cherry burning as he as his turn. The scones from the freezer are being warmed in the oven, the kettle is starting to boil, and you notice the ash that needs that’s ready to fall off from the joint. “Mm, baby be careful. Here, the ash tray.”

A little heart shaped dish is presented to him and he taps off the excess ash into the dish. When you set aside the dish, you take back the joint and take in a deep hit. You want your head to be high up in the clouds this morning, you want to feel so lazy and relaxed, put on some cartoons and then do absolutely nothing.

“God, you are pretty in this light. You know that, right?” Keigo awes over you, his own high reflecting in his eyes as he smooths his hands up your thighs. “My pretty girl looks so good and I think she knows it.”

He’s answered with an agreeable hum for you. His eyes watch as you hold the joint to your lips, taking in a breath but holding the smoke in. Understanding immediately, he leans forward for his lips to hover close to your mouth, his cock twitches as he shotguns from you. “You’re making me wanna fuck you this morning.” Keigo speaks as he breathes out he sucked from your lips.

“So why don’t you?”

The joint is more than halfway through when you stub it out in the little heart tray. Your legs spread open, giving him a cheeky smile as your eyes flick down for him to take the invitation. Come fuck me this morning.

Your boyfriend is not one to turn you down.

He stands as close to you as possible, hands on your hips to scoot you closer to the edge of the countertop and he kisses you, humming when he feels your legs wind around his waist. Your feet cross loosely by the ankles but you hold him tightly from above the waist, your arms looping around his neck in a hug. The air starts to smell like the scones that are warming in the convention oven that mixes in with the smell of weed.

“Wake and bake and fuck, huh?” Keigo chuckles as he pulls back a little to pull his cock out from his boxer briefs, “Wish I could do this every day.”

“Maybe if you had a work from home job,” You half joke to him, “just be home and be high on your computer while getting paid. What a dream.”

Keigo gives you a little hum, helping to take your night shirt off and immediately goes to suck one of your nipples into his mouth after he throws your shirt to the ground. Your head falls back and you arch your back, pushing your chest forward and moaning softly as he flicks his tongue. Your hips grind a little in want, your mind is fuzzy, and you love Keigo.

“Can I eat your pussy, lovebird? Or you want me to fuck you right now?” Keigo asks, pulling away from sucking at your tits, looking ready to obey any command you give him.

“You can eat me out.”

You almost laugh at how eager he was to drop to his knees, showing a lot of enthusiasm as he helps your panties off and puts his mouth to your cunt. You prop yourself with one elbow back to support you and the other threads through his hair. When you peer down at him, you see that he’s actually looking up at you with a dazed look in his eye. Whether it’s from being high from the weed or drunk from your pussy, you can’t be quite sure, but you adore how he looks.

“Fuck me with your tongue, yeah?” you’re a little breathless and you meant to sound more commanding but Keigo has overwhelming talent with that mouth of his. Soft mewls and breathy moans fill the sounds of the kitchen along with the lewd licking from your boyfriend at your pussy. You gasp when he spits onto your cunt and jams his tongue into your hole, wiggling it inside you and he groans when he tastes your cum.

If Keigo could have his way, he’d eat you out until you squirted for him. He wants his face buried in your pussy until you’re crying from being too sensitive. All he wants is to see you go cross eyed and stupid from how good he eats your cunt. His heart thrums in his rib cage over how much he wants you but his cock is so hard that he doesn’t think he can wait any longer to fuck you either.

So he’ll make you cum for him one more time with his mouth before he gives you his dick.

“K-Kei, shit shit shit! I love it!” you praise his talent as he gets sloppy for you, not holding back his own filthy noises as he gets messy. He shakes his head after he shoved his tongue into your pussy, your slick and his spit dribbles down his chin, and he almost cums when he tastes your orgasm on his tongue again.

You whimper his name, your legs slightly shaking, and feeling a little cold when Keigo pulls away. He standing up to his feet, already having pushed his underwear off and let it look at his feet. He licks his lips, still glossy from your ecstasy and his chest is flushed. It’s an easy tell that he’s all flustered when his chest or ears get a little rosy.

Keigo pulls you off the kitchen countertop to bend you over, rutting his hips against the curve of your ass. “Beg for my dick, wanna hear that you want me.” He mutters into your ear before licking a small stripe along the shell of it. It’s a small weakness that he discovered about you that he likes to tease you with.

His cock is right there, hard and curved against your ass teasing you. You beg him with pretty whimpers and soft pleas, telling him how badly you need his cock in you. It’s so gorgeous when you’re weak like this for him and you know the reward for it will be beautiful.

Your hands brace onto the countertop, pushing your ass back and looking over your shoulder. “Please baby? Need you really bad, want you to cum in me and fill up my pussy.” You try to entice him to you, reaching one hand back to hold you open for him.

It does the trick.

His hands grip you at your hips and he jolts forward into your cunt, making you yelp and your mouth drop open in surprise. Then Keigo fucks fast into you, rougher than you’d expected for someone who’s supposed to be high.

Then again, your high was broken when you had cum on his tongue the first time so the fuzziness must have left him too.

The sound of skin smacking together and your noises fill the kitchen space. Huffing breaths from Keigo as he drags you back onto his cock, pressing himself balls deep and touches that spongy part inside you that has you throwing your head back and your hands curl into fists. “O-oh god…!”

He says pretty words to you, words that make your heart swell with affection and make you feel all sentimental and gooey. It’s so disgustingly sweet, sweet like the smell of the scones in the air-

Ding!

Keigo pauses his hips, looking back at the little convention oven that had finished warming the scones. You can’t help but laugh a little at the small interruption but at least you know that your treats are ready.

“Let’s finish up, and then we can have our tea and scones.”

You hum in agreement, assuming position on bending over for him again over the countertop and arching your back, having to stand on your tiptoes to keep the position. One hand at your hip and the other grasps your shoulder, you know what it means.

He’s about to fuck hard and fast.

Keigo fucks you to the point that you have no thoughts in your head. The hand on your shoulder keeps you firmly pressed in the position and when you lose your form, he smacks you hard on your ass to remind you to correct yourself. When you feel his nails dig into your skin, you know that he’s about to cum.

“Cum in me, please!” you sob out as you cum on his cock, eager at the thought of being filled by your boyfriend and spiraling you into another orgasm, “Oh fuck, please cum in me! Please-“

You’re not prepared for when he suddenly pulls out, turns you around to give you a smothering kiss that leaves you dizzy. Faster than you can react, he puts you to the floor and on your knees. A tight fist grabs onto your head and you’re made to look up at him.

He cums all over your face instead.

Keigo jerks his cock quickly in his hand, groaning lowly and then tapping the tip of his cock against your lips. Cum is smeared against your lips before you open your mouth to flick your tongue over his tip.

“What the fuck? I said cum in me!” You complain, “Keigo!”

“I’m sorry! I wanted to but-“ Keigo tries to explain as he grabs a kitchen towel from the countertop to wipe your face.

“But what?”

“I wanted a longer fuck later today so I came on your face instead. I came too fast this time.”

Okay fine, that’s a good reason for you but you were really wanting him to cum in your pussy right then and there. You wait patiently as Keigo cleans you up but you know that you’ll have to do a proper cleaning in the bathroom. His hands are held out for you to help you stand up.

“Mad at me?” Keigo pretends to play cute, jutting his bottom lip in a pout and giving you doe eyes. Similar to what you do when you’re trying to get something you want. So you roll your eyes at him before looping your arms around his neck and giving him a kiss, “I’ll cum in you later, promise.”

After you wash up your face and put your clothes back on, you and your boyfriend reignite the joint and smoke first again to bring back the high. The little dining table you have that only has room for the two of you has the scones set up on a plate along with the mugs already steeped with the earl grey tea. There’s even a plate of strawberries and mango set up as well.

“God, these scones taste even better. Don’t you think?” Keigo comments before taking a sip of his tea.

“You’re just high,” you giggle, “and we should put on cartoons and make out.”

“Later dove, I got cotton mouth right now.”

“Again with this later shit? I’ll cum in you later? I’ll make out with you later? You are not being a good boyfriend right now.” You pretend to be exasperated but really you agree. “You and your excuses.”

Keigo makes it up to you by refilling your tea cup and toasting a bagel for you. Then he makes it up to you again getting your favorite takeout delivered. And he makes it up a third and final time by finally cumming in your pussy after making you beg for him.

By night time, you and Keigo are sober and happy and fucked out and ready to just hit the hay. Sometimes you wish that these blissful, do nothing days could last a little longer. Sometimes there are moments that you only want to exist to be high and to be fucked by your boyfriend and nothing more. Lazy days with hazy minds and goofy smiles while you ride on top of him is a paradise.

The next lazy day the two of you have, Keigo is the one to greet you bright and early. “Good morning dove!”

“Mornin’…” you yawn into your pillow before setting your eyes on him.

“Wake and bake and fuck?”

You smile at him, as if you weren’t going to answer anything but yes.