#whatever I’m still awake. let’s say it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lesservillain · 15 days

Text

dream a little dream of me.

sleep demon!eddie munson x afab!reader

cw: SMUT. breeding kink, monster!eddie, readers body is “changed”(I think thats it?)

You’re tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep thanks to the ache between your legs. You already tried getting yourself off to no avail, so sleeping it off was your plan b.

You didn’t know why you’d been so horny lately. All day you’d be thinking about being taken over your work desk or in the coffee shop bathroom. Wet dreams plagued your mind every night of a beautiful man making love to you had left you with wet sheets from how hot and bothered you were getting even in your sleep.

But no matter how much you tried to satisfy yourself, it just wasn’t enough.

Just as you were about to drift off, the mattress dipping caught your attention. You lived alone, besides your cat, so you just assumed it was them joining you in the bed. That was until it continued to dip, pushing down deep indicating that whatever was on your bed was much heavier than your cat.

You froze in fear, trying to regulate your breathing to make it seem like you were still asleep. Your mind raced as you tried to think of what to do.

“I know you’re awake.”

You stopped breathing. You felt your heart pounding on your chest as you panic.

“Don’t be afraid, I’m not here to hurt you,” the voice said, sounding less distorted and more like the voice of…

Slowly you turned to look behind you. Sitting on the edge of your bed was the man of your dreams. His soft eyes met yours, his smile turning toothy when you realized it was him.

Were you dreaming right now? It didn’t feel like it. Maybe you were lucid dreaming?

You didn’t have much more time to think about it as he placed a hand on your cheek. It felt as if he really were touching you, and you felt conflicted with that fact.

“I missed you, sweet girl,” he coos at you. “I hate it when you leave me.”

He leans down, stopping just short of kissing you. His eyes flash for a moment, looking almost red compared to his normal color.

When you don’t protest, he closes the gap between you, letting your lips slot together perfectly in a deep kiss. His mouth moves against yours and you reciprocate, feeling as if its the natural thing to do.

As the kiss deepens you feel his hands slowly start to roam your body. He feels you up, his hands landing on your breasts, squeezing and fondling until you hum against his lips. The man smiles against you.

He pulls away, lidded eyes stating down at you as his lips start to kiss down your jaw, your neck, between your breasts, down, down, down, until he’s positioning himself between your legs.

“Mmm such a pretty sight,” the man says, looking at your pussy with lovesick eyes. “Prettiest I’ve ever seen.”

He runs a finger through your folds, making you gasp at the sudden contact. He takes his finger to his mouth, his tongue wrapping around it to lick off your juices.

“Mmmm, like the divine nectar,” the man hums. You watch in anticipation as he brings his face closer to your pussy. His long tongue darts out again, your hands flying to his hair as he gets to work opening you up.

All of the times he’s spent with you in your dreams gave him plenty of practice to know exactly how you like it. He lets his tongue flick and rub against your clit as his fingers work diligently inside you. You feel your legs start shake as he brings you closer and closer to your peak.

Just as you feel yourself tipping over the edge, his tongue and fingers switch places. The pads of his fingers rub against your clit roughly as he sticks his long, thick tongue inside you. The muscle penetrates you deep, until you feel him hitting against your cervix.

Your vision goes white, little stars dancing behind your eyes as you cum hard on his tongue. In your blissed out state, you almost dont feel the way something is pushed deeper inside of you. It feels like a slight pinch, but almost immediately after your body feels like it’s on fire.

Whatever the man put inside you with his tongue begins to spread over the walls of your womb, coating it in a thick lining. Any arousal you had in your body was turned up to a hundred as you turn into a bitch in heat. Slick begins to pool on your bedsheets as it leaks from your pussy.

The man watches your body’s changes with delight. He licks his lips at the sight of you, his sharp teeth suddenly very noticeable to you.

“How do you feel?” He asks you, eyes still settled on your soaked cunt.

“H-hot?” You stutter, looking up at him with pinched brows. Was he always naked? Or had you not noticed his huge, hard cock until just now?

“That’s normal,” he says softly. He gently places a hand over your womb, his pointes nails grazing your skin. “How do you feel here?”

You look at his hand on your lower stomach. It’s huge when compared to the size of your body.

“Feels fine, maybe a little crampy?”

He coos down at you, leaning in to give you a kiss.

“That will get better once I’m inside,” he assures you. His hand leaves your stomach to cradle your face lovingly. You lean into his touch, nuzzling against his large palm.

“What-what did you do to me?” The last word came out as a squeak as you feel the tip of his cock slid through your folds.

He leans into you, his hot breath on the bare skin of your neck as he rolls his hips. Once he’s satisfied with how wet you’ve gotten his cock, he finds your entrance and slowly begins to push it inside of you. He feels even bigger than he looks, and you start to panic as he continues to stretch you out. You grab at his broad shoulders and he shushes you.

“It’s okay,” he says, “your body will sense my size and adjust accordingly. Give it just a moment.”

There’s a slight strain in his voice that wasn’t there before. You can see his brows pinching together as the head of his cock nestles against your cervix. He pauses, looking down for a moment to observe how little of him your body had yet to take.

Suddenly, you feel a tingle between your legs, and a wave of slick pushes out of you. Your body felt like a raw nerve, becoming sensitive to even the smallest shift that the man makes. You begin to squirm beneath him out of desperation, seeking any bit of friction to give you some relief.

“Oh, fuck me,” the creature moans above you, watching the way you try and fuck yourself on his cock.

“Can I move?” He whines. “I need to fuck you.”

You realize you’d been staring down at where the two of you connected. When you look up to the creature’s face, he looks just about as fucked out as you feel.

His disheveled hair falls around his horns and into his face. His mouth is slack, his long tongue hanging out between his parted lips. He’s staring right at you, waiting.

“Please.”

You realize he must not be able to move unless you give him verbal permission. So when you manage to squeak out a “yes,” the creature lets out a sigh of relief. A devilish grin spreads across his face as he gets himself situated.

He pulls out of you agonizingly slowly, before thrusting sharply back inside of you. Your legs straighten at the sensation, his cock hitting your sensitive spot with ease and sending a shock wave through your body.

Suddenly you were cumming on his cock, never feeling a sensation like that before. He continued to move, fucking you through your orgasm without slowing down.

Dark tendrils of hair clouded your vision as he brought his lips to yours again. His long tongue began to lick into your mouth, filling it until you felt it trying to breach your throat. The size and thickness of it had you sucking on it out of instinct. The creature seemed to enjoy this, moaning into your mouth in response.

It was almost too much to be so full of this monster. The haze of lust made it hard to tell where your body began and his ended. Every thrust felt like a spark of lightning through your body that traveled to your finger tips.

When the creature pulled away from you, you audibly whined at the loss, even while gasping for air. He leaned back, angling his hips in a new way that had you seeing stars. Your back arched off the bed as you began to cum again.

“Dammnit,” the gruff voice of the monster breathes out. “You’re like a vice around me.”

“Feel so good,” you say breathlessly.

“Mmm, told you I would make the pain go away.”

You couldn’t think straight, let alone understand what he was talking about. All you could think of is your monster lover and the way he was moving inside of you.

And cum.

The thought of him cumming inside you became all consuming. The need for him to breed you was overwhelming to the point where you began bucking your hips into him again in a feeble attempt at expediting the process.

“Mmm you’re getting so needy aren’t you?” The monster cooes above you. You nod loosely, head bobbing but your eyes lazily fixed on the creatures deep brown ones, pupils big and wide enough you can see your own reflection in them.

“I never did tell you what I did to you, did I?” He says, still moving at a brutal pace.

“Nuh-uh,” is all you manage to say, gasping again at a particularly sharp thrust.

You look down at where the monster and you meet. For a brief, lucid moment your eyes go wide as you see the monsters cock fully disappearing inside of you, a small bulge pressing against your abdomen with every thrust the monster makes.

“I think you can tell by now that I am not like you,” he says. “But, the only way my kind can reproduce is with humans.” His hands roam your body, almost in awe of your form as he continues to speak.

“The only problem is that your kind,” he places a hand above your womb, “are only compatible if we…make it that way.”

Your cloudy thoughts make small connections between his words and his actions. If you were in a right state of mind, you’d probably have loads of questions you wanted answered. But right now, you only had one goal.

Grabbing the monsters arms, you use all of your strength that you can muster and manage to flip him completely only his back. The confident, sure creature becomes wide eyed and blushing as he stares up at you in a state of shock.

“Wh-what are you—“

“Shhh,” you shush him. “Want you to cum. Please?”

You waste no time as you begin to bounce up and down on his hard cock. He was deeper than you could ever imagine possible, but there was no pain. If anything, you couldn’t hold yourself back from cumming again and again.

“Holy shit,” the creature says, mesmerized at the way you use him for your own pleasure.

“Name.” It doesn’t come out as a question, rather a command.

“Wh-wha-You want to know my name?” The creature stutters.

“Yes, yes, please!”

“Eddie! It’s Eddie!”

“Oh, fuck, Eddiieeeeeeeee!”

That pushed the creature over the edge. His large hands grab at your hips to hold you in place. Hot ropes of thick cum begin to fill you up until you start to feel it leaking out of you.

When you can finally open your eyes, you find the creature—Eddie—tongue out and panting as he catches his breath. Before your eyes you watch as he shifts from his monstrous form back into the man you’ve been seeing in your dreams.

If everything wasn’t so real, you’d almost think you were dreaming after all. But the slow circles that Eddie was rubbing into your hips was confirmation enough that all of this was very real.

“Hi,” Eddie says with a dimpled grin when you land next to him in the bed.

“Hi,” you say, looking at the handsome man next to you.

“You okay?” He asks, caressing your cheek.

“Yeah,” you sigh, turning to fully face him. “I just have a lot of questions.”

thanks for reading!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #sleep demon!eddie munson #sleep demon!eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson st

1K notes · View notes

enhaheeseung · 15 days

Text

SLEEP 🕒 - L. Heeseung

🕒Pairing: Heeseung X fem reader!

🕒Warnings: smut, mutual masturbation, cursing.

🕒Synopsis: it’s late, and you can’t sleep, but luckily, your best friend knows just the trick to help you out.

🕒Wc: 1,5k (Drabble)

Sighing to yourself, you set your phone down on the lamp stand after you noticed it was literally three in the morning.

You and your best friend had been watching movies talking and hanging out since ten and you hadn’t even noticed the time till now.

“You sleepy?” He turned to you just in time to catch you rubbing your strained eyes.

“Yes, it’s like three am, hee,” you groggily reply, turning on your left side facing away from him.

“Oh shit, you’re right. I’m sorry,” he chuckled. You could tell he was just as tired by how deep his voice had gotten.

“It's alright.” He set his phone aside as well and leaned up against the headboard.

“I guess I better get going.” On cue, he lets out a yawn.

“Are you crazy? It’s so late out you might as well just spend the night” you mumble out.

He rubbed his chin in thought; he was really tired, and driving probably wasn’t the best idea right now. “I didn’t bring anything for a sleepover.”

“Just wear whatever,” you respond, on the verge of passing out.

You feel a dip in the bed and hear him shuffling around. He takes off his pants and his flannel before he slips under the covers with you.

For most, it’d probably seem weird, a guy and a girl sleeping in the same bed, but the number of times you both knocked out together while studying during your high school and college days made this one of the most normal things between you two. “Goodnight, y/n. I might be gone before you wake up.”

“Just make sure to lock the door in the morning night, hee,” you whispered, turning off your lamp while he did the same after you.

You readjusted to get comfortable and pressed your cheek against your pillow, waiting for sleep to come over you.

Ten minutes passed, and sleep never came. You were tired, but for some reason, you just couldn’t fall asleep.

“Ugh,” you groaned and quickly cupped your mouth so you wouldn’t wake heeseung up with the racket.

Little did you know he was still wide awake.

“Y/n?” He asks, followed by a beat of silence. “You’re still up too?” He says with a hint of amusement in his tone. At least he wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping.

“Yes,” you laid flat on your back, copying his resting position. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m tired, but I just can’t seem to sleep,” you respond in the pitch-black bedroom.

“Same,” he sighs, folding his arms over his chest.

You both lay there in silence for a few minutes until he says something that completely catches you off guard.

“I read that having an orgasm can help you fall asleep,” he says casually.

You giggle and push his shoulder, or at least you think it was his shoulder. It was so dark you really couldn’t see. “And where did you read that?”

“The internet, of course, says it has something to do with the release of oxytocin or some shit” he lets out an airy laugh putting his hands behind his head.

“Interesting,” you hum.

“It is, works like a charm for me,” he says through a yawn.

“TMI”

“Oh please, we’ve talked about so much shit that this is PG,” he scoffs.

“Yeah, but not you touching yourself.” You cringe as the words leave your mouth.

“I didn’t say anything like that. All I said was it works,” he shrugs even though you can’t see him.

“Whatever,” you say, too tired to argue with him.

It’s silent again, and the idea he mentioned sounds a lot more appealing than laying here all night without getting any sleep.

But you can’t necessarily try out this little theory of his with him in your room, so that idea was out the window.

“You still up?” He checks on you a minute later, and you hum in response. “I mean, I could give you one if you want,” he holds in his laugh, knowing that you’re about to chastise him.

“Lee heeseung, stop it this instant,” you tell him sternly.

“Okay, okay, just thought I’d ask. I’m your bestie, and besties look out for each other, right?” He continues to push your little buttons.

“Yeah, by giving a shoulder to cry on, not giving each other orgasms,” you huff out a breath.

A thought popped into your head: you weren’t getting any sleep anytime soon, and since he wanted to mess with you, two could play that game. “I mean, you could,” the words leave your mouth in a nonchalant manner.

He gasped, not expecting you to match his humor. Most times, you didn’t when it came to something sexual. “Knock it off. It’s weird when you joke about it,” he laughs.

“Who said I’m joking?” You taunt.

“Cause the y/n I know would never,” he says confidently, thinking he knows you like the back of his hand, and normally he does, but just not when you’re sleep-deprived.

“What about the y/n who’s in desperate need of sleep and will do anything just to catch a few hours before work in the morning?”

His ears are perked up now, the soft, sultry tone of your voice alerting him instantly. “You’re really not joking, are you?”

“Do I sound like I’m joking?” You shift closer to him, and he feels your body heat right away, making his heart beat faster in his chest.

“I-I y/n, if you’re joking, just tell me.” his voice shakes a little, the slightest hint of a whimper traveling close behind his words.

Calling it quits with talking, you find his hand in the dark and grip his wrist, guiding him right between your legs. “Hee, I’d never joke about this,” you gasped as his warm hand cups over your mound.

“Fuck” he whispers and props himself on his side, slowly gliding his hand between your legs. “You really are serious, huh?” His voice sounds even huskier than it did before as he confidently presses your clit over your sleep shorts.

“Yes, hee,” you whine, desperation dripping from your voice as you clench your thighs around his hand, keeping it firmly nestled against you.

“Shit, okay, turn over for me” You get back in your original position, your back now pressed against his chest, his crotch a few inches away from your backside. “Now close your eyes.” his hot breath tickles your ear.

You do as he says, too tired to even think twice about what you’re getting ready to engage in with your best friend.

His two middle fingers rub circles on your clit, working you up quicker than you could have ever imagined. You’re already leaking a bit of precum.

“Mmm,” you moan softly. His fingers felt so good, especially when he slipped them further down, teasing your entrance while his palm rubbed your clit.

Your hand caressed the one that was between your legs, tracing the veins along the back of his hand. “Does that feel good?” He swallowed thickly, his lower body pressing against you unintentionally.

“Yes, hee, so good” he humps your backside, his swollen cock being stimulated by the softness of your plush bottom.

“Yeah, so good,” he whispers in your ear. You feel so good you don’t even notice the way he ruts against you, the movement of his hips forcing your waist to roll against his palm more, bringing you even more satisfaction.

“I’m so close, hee, I’m gonna cum” you cry out, body shuddering as the warmth and pleasure builds in your lower region.

“Shhh, I know, I know,” he breathes out heavily, placing a soft kiss on your cheek and a few more rolls of his hips. You’re both coming undone together, panting exhaustedly.

He rubs you through it, whispering encouraging words in your ear like. “Yeah, feels so good, doesn’t it?” “Let it all out,” “Keep cumming” “That’s it.”

The pleasure goes on for so long that another orgasm follows after giving you the most intense pleasure you’ve ever experienced. “Hee,” you whimper his name, your body trembling against his as you shudder in the aftermath of cumming back to back.

He nuzzles against you, cuddling you and helping you ground yourself until you catch your breath.

He’s still struggling to calm himself with how hard he just came. He hasn’t cum that fast and that much in a while. “Was that good?” He asked timidly into your hair, releasing a deep breath.

“Mmm,” you moan in response, your eyelids finally feeling so heavy that you can barely open them.

But you couldn’t forget about heeseung, so you flipped over on your side, your forehead touching his. “What about you?” You slowly reach into his boxers, gripping the base of his length, feeling a good amount of wetness covering his shaft.

“Ahh, s-sensitive,” he moans shakily.

You retract your hand right away. “Did you-“ he cuts you off, nodding against your forehead, and you slowly pull your hand out of his underwear.

“I’m good,” he assures you. “Let’s sleep now yeah? We’ll clean up in the morning” his words sound slurred and you can barely even understand what he’s saying cause you’re so tired.

Apparently, whatever he read about orgasms was true cause you’ve never fallen asleep faster.

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

#enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #enha heeseung #engene #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #heeseung angst #heeseung x reader #enhypen fanfic #heeseung fic #heeseung fluff #enhypen lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung angst

1K notes · View notes

skzdarlings · 4 months

Text

the demonstration ; skz ; jeongin x reader

requested by anonymous: you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜ w Jeongin? 😩 please 🥰. requested by anonymous: I.N AND ❛ do whatever you want with me, i'm yours. ❜ ❛ you taste like heaven. ❜ PLEASE IF YOU CAN BEGGING YOU

pairing: yang jeongin/reader content info: friends to lovers. reader asks jeongin if he has ever made someone squirt and if so please show her hehe. reader mentions a bad date with a rude guy who called her high-strung. squirting, pussy-eating, riding, just a good time lol. explicit sexual content. word count: 4000 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy <3

Jeongin is finally awake when you return to his apartment. You visited this morning but he must have had a late night because the flat was dark and silent when you let yourself in. You went for a stroll, hoping the fresh air would clear your mind, but what you really needed was him. A conversation with Jeongin always improves your mood. Just thinking about those deep dimples brings out your own smile.

“Hi there,” you say sweetly. You close the door and replace your shoes with the slippers he keeps for you. You bound up to the kitchen counter. “Can I ask you something?”

Jeongin clearly just rolled out of bed. Far from glamourous, your nonetheless very handsome friend is wearing a hoodie and sweatpants and his black thick-rimmed glasses. He has the hood pulled over his head, his dishevelled black hair peeking out. A bowl of ramen sits in front of him, though his sleepy gaze is on his phone, long ringed fingers curled around the device.

You look at those fingers thoughtfully, your mouth a little drier than before. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all…

It’s too late. Jeongin emerges from the slumped cavern of his hoodie, lifting his bespectacled face. He dutifully puts his phone facedown on the counter. Pushing his sleeves to his elbows, he says, “Of course. Hi. How are—” He yawns before he can finish. The yawn breaks into a wheezy little laugh.

You take the seat across from him at the kitchen island and watch him twirl his chopsticks. Nimble fingers flip them around before he digs into his noodles, slurping a little ungracefully. He swallows almost half the bowl in a scoop. Your eyes are still on his hands.

“Jeongin,” you say. “Have you ever—oh, no, thank you.”

He is holding out a clump of noodles on his chopsticks. When you decline, he shoves it in his own mouth.

“Jeongin,” you say again. “Have you ever made a girl squirt?”

He chokes on the noodles. It gets ugly quick. You emit a little squeak of your own when he thumps on his chest so hard that his hood falls back and his glasses fall off. He hacks up the noodles and spits some across the island.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“I’m fine,” he says in a rough voice, squinting hard like a beleaguered puppy. He fumbles with his glasses, blinking quickly once they are back on his face. Then he reaches for his water bottle and unscrews it with a flick of his fingers. He rubs his chest while drinking.

You purse your lips, watching him. His profile is so defined, his jaw so sharp and cheekbones high. He really is ridiculously handsome. And those hands. You look at the prominence of the veins running down his forearm, the subtle strength in his slender form, the long easy grace of his fingers. If any man is turning women into waterfalls, it must be him.

“So,” you say, “have you ever done it?”

He chokes on his water, but not as dramatically as the noodles. It’s a messy hiccup and he dribbles water down his chin, barely catching it in the cup of his hand. He puts the bottle aside and wipes his hand on his thigh.

“I don’t think I understand the question,” he finally says.

“What? ‘Have you ever made a girl squirt?’” you ask, tipping your head. “Sorry, what’s confusing?”

“Um.” He looks at you in bewilderment. “The part where you are asking me it?”

“Oh.” A little – okay, a lot of embarrassed heat explodes in your chest. It radiates out with rapid-fire speed, scalding your neck and your face.

You lower your gaze. His dark eyes and expressive brows are now too intense for you. You fiddle with your fingers in your lap, thumbs pushing at each other.

“Well,” you say, slowly. You look anywhere but him. “Something sort of happened.”

When you chance an upward glance, he is looking at you very studiously.

“Sort of…” he says, looking more confused by the second. “Did you… sort of… squirt?”

You cover your face, suddenly embarrassed beyond words. Why did this seem like a good idea again? You were so convinced a few minutes ago that this was a totally fine conversation to have with your friend. Now you want the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

You make a miserable little sound into your palms and Jeongin finally laughs. His whole face crinkles with delight and he laughs so hard that it sounds like he can barely breathe.

“Don’t laugh at me!” you wail.

“I’m not, I’m not,” he lies, because he is laughing his ass off while he says it. “Come on, it’s fine. Stop hiding.”

He reaches across the counter for you. You jerk away, mewling pathetically, which just makes him laugh again. He eventually uses both hands to peel apart your death grip. You still avoid his gaze, staring down at the counter, but he dips his head to chase your eyes.

“There you are,” he says when your gazes meet. “Crazy girl! Ask me again.”

“I forgot the question,” you say, petulant.

He snorts. “I didn’t,” he says. “You wanted to know if I ever made a woman—”

“Yes, I know what I asked!” you say, shaking your head. You see him smile, a giant grin of immense amusement as you tug at your cheeks in distress. “I’m sorry I asked. It’s just that…”

“Something sort of happened?” he supplies when you trail off.

“Technically,” you say, “something sort of didn’t happen.”

“Ohhh.” He returns to looking bashful, rubbing the back of his neck. “Were you… with… someone?”

“Mhm.” You both look at the kitchen counter while you speak. “I had a date. I planned the whole thing out. You know me, I like a plan.” You try to laugh but a flood of humiliation washes over you, the recollection of last night and how everything went so, so wrong. You close your eyes and sigh. “Ugh. It was going well so I brought him back to my place. Things got heated. He said he was really good at… doing that… I said I had never done it before and he got excited and said I would like it. I think I just… thought about it too much. You know me! I like a plan! That wasn’t the plan! Anyway, we put a towel on the bed which is why it was even more embarrassing when I couldn’t… when he couldn’t make me… ugh.” You flop forward, pressing your forehead to the cold marble countertop. “He called me high-strung and left.”

You lift your head slowly, looking at Jeongin for his reaction. His expression is all scrunched up like he smells something bad. Then he gestures as if he is vomiting, making the noisy hurling sounds to match.

You laugh in spite of yourself, nodding.

“I know, I know, you’re right,” you say. “He sucked.”

“High-strung?” Jeongin says, the word tumbling out like a curse. “He said that? Pffft—”

You are glad you came to him. Your other friends would have been protective and encouraging, which is nice, but Jeongin’s helpless laughter is more reassuring than anything. That other guy was so pathetic that all Jeongin can do is laugh.

Even so, you do feel a little sensitive about the whole thing. You are smiling now but your gaze stays low. You trace circles on the counter.

“I know he… he was just embarrassed too. He was rude to me, but… he wasn’t totally wrong.”

“No,” Jeongin says, shaking his head. “No, no, no—”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you insist. You let him take your hands and squeeze, but you talk before he can interrupt. “Look he didn’t exactly handle it well but I… I am a little… um, overly thoughtful at times. I’m not good at doing things in the spur of the moment. It scares me and I think too much and once I start thinking I can’t stop.” You let go of his hands, giving them one last friendly pat before you neatly fold your hands on the counter. “Anyway, I asked you what I did because I was hoping you could instruct me so I can practice. That way next time it happens, I won’t get scared and think so much.”

You smile at him.

He slowly takes his glasses off, his mouth open.

“Oh,” he says. “Okay. Um.”

“Soooo… have you?”

The tips of his ears turn a vibrant red and he puts his reading glasses aside. He takes a second to rub his eyes with an incredible amount of vigour. You wait patiently and politely, watching him tug down the sleeves of his hoodie then push them back up. Those long fingers swipe through his hair once, twice. Finally, he crosses his arms and nods sharply.

“Yes,” he says. “I have.”

Oh.

The subject of your abstract thought suddenly becomes a tangible reality. You cannot get the unbidden mental image out of your head: Jeongin, knuckle-deep in the very wet, very soft heat of someone lucky, wringing every last bit of pleasure out of them. It is unexpectedly easy to imagine yourself in their place, his dark head between your thighs and his steady arm at work.

You cross your legs. He notices.

“Would you mind showing me?” you ask.

“Showing you?” he repeats, his thick eyebrows high on his face. “Showing you?”

“Yes,” you say. You are so preoccupied with your mental image that it takes a moment to realize your phrasing might be misconstrued. “Not like that!”

He jumps in surprise.

“Oh my god.” You put your hands over your face again. “I meant… abstractly. Draw it. Or tell me. I didn’t mean—oh my goodness.”

His ears are still red but Jeongin dissolves into giggles again. Your mortification works wonders on his dimples.

“I’m not very good at drawing,” he teases, patting you on the head.

“Oh my goodness,” is all you manage.

His laughter is infectious, overpowering your embarrassment until you are giggling with him.

“I’m sorry,” you say when the laughter finally slows. You smile, chagrined and apologetic. “It was a stupid question in the first place. I’m really embarrassed.”

“No, don’t be,” he says, waving his hand. “You can tell me anything. I was just… surprised.”

“Yeah, so was he,” you say, making both of you laugh again.

When the laughter subsides a second time, Jeongin sighs. He puts his discarded glasses back on, blinking his vision into his focus and smiling at you. After the last few minutes of conversation, that smiles gives you butterflies. You touch a hand to your stomach as if to still them, but they flutter away.

“I have an idea,” he says, holding out his hand.

“Oh no,” you say but take that hand without hesitation. “Am I about to regret so many things?”

“What? No. When have I ever had a bad idea?” he asks while laughing, no doubt in recollection of every combined bad idea your friendship has conjured.

You can hardly judge him for any bad ideas, though, seeing as you waltzed in here today asking your friend if he had ever made someone squirt. It sounds very ridiculous in hindsight, but you truly do trust Jeongin so much that the idea seemed reasonable at the time.

Now you are in his bedroom, hovering by the bedside while he plops down on his bed with a sigh. He adjusts his glasses and the neck of his hoodie, like this is all protocol and not remotely unusual. He takes a pillow and lays it gingerly across his lap, then looks up and beckons you forward with the come-hither crook of two fingers. His smirk is suggestive but playful, just teasing you, but it awakens those butterflies again.

“Come on,” he says. “Sit. I’ll, um, show you.”

“Show me?” you say, eying the pillow in his lap. “Yang Jeongin, are you… about to defile that pillow?”

“Yes,” he says, nodding solemnly. “We’re gonna make it squirt.”

“You know when I asked if you had ever done it before, I meant on a human…”

“Wow! I’m helping you with a visual demonstration and you insult me—!”

“Aha, I’m sorry!” You burst into laughter at the incredulity on his face. When he pushes the pillow off his lap with a show of dramatics, you wave your hands just as theatrically. “I mean it, I mean it,” you say, though your laughter contradicts the sincerity of your words. “Please help me. I’m sorry, hahaha, I was just teasing, I need your help, please!”

He tries to stand up but you block him, shuffling every time he leans. He finally grabs your hips to move you but you grab his shoulders. Your wrestling is a light-hearted tussle, but then he starts tickling you and you stand no chance of survival. You turn into a flailing, yelping mess, laughing as you spill across the bed with your arms around each other. He tortures you another second, forcing another apology out of your mouth.

When it is over, you lay there, panting. He is leaning over you, his hands on your waist, yours on his shoulders. Your friend likes to laugh but a very serious look crosses his face. He looks at you like he is studying you, discovering some detail for the first time even though he has known you for years. It is like you can feel his stare, a caress across your cheek, across your lips. You take your bottom lip into your mouth, wetting it.

He takes a slow, deep breath.

“That man was crazy,” he says. His voice is lower than before, scratching above a whisper. “You’re perfect. He just didn’t care about getting to know you. And that sucks for him because you—” His voice breaks, the little squeak making him laugh, a small embarrassed sound. The tips of his ears are red and he avoids meeting your gaze. “You’re beautiful,” he says, “inside and out. Any man would be lucky to be with you.”

“Jeongin,” you say softly, because what else can you say?

He meets your gaze. His mouth is open like he wants to say more but he can only stare at you. Eventually, he laughs. He rubs the back of his neck as he sits up straight. You sit up as well, staring at him while he adjusts his glasses.

“Right,” he says. “The, uh, the pillow. I, um…”

It might have been amusing, watching him poke a pillow suggestively. But you no longer care about that. The energy in this room has changed, the whole world melting under the power of his words, changing the very shape of this space. When you take a breath, all you smell is his cologne, masculine and smoky, all you see is your friend, in his hoodie and glasses with his blushing cheeks, and all you want is him. Like this. Right now.

He reaches for the pillow and you reach for him. You take his hand and he looks at you, blinking with surprise.

You turn his hand over. He really does have nice hands, long fingers, deft and strong. You measure it against your own. Then you guide his hand to your lips and kiss the tips of his fingers. You look at him, making your eyes big, your lashes fluttering.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh.”

You laugh. He cups your face and draws you close and you are both smiling when your lips come together. Despite his blush, the kiss is ravishing. You find yourself gasping for a breath, whimpering when he sucks your bottom lip.

“Lay down please,” he says, speaking against your mouth.

You nod. Those butterflies are wild inside you. You are certain you already look like an unravelled mess, laying on your back and breathing hard.

He leans over you, catching your hand when you reach for him. He kisses your palm, your fingers bumping his glasses, making you giggle. He smiles too, the kiss lingering. Your whole arm tingles even when he stops. He guides your hand above your head, curling your fingers around the bars of his headboard.

“You keep your hands where they are or I'll tie them up,” he says, but laughs at your surprised expression before the words can settle. “You said yourself, you think too much,” he explains. “Just lay there. Don’t move. Don’t think. Let me take care of you.” He puts a leg between yours, pushing forward with his hips to guide yours apart. He fits there perfectly, pressing his body against yours. Your breath catches. “You can trust me,” he says, and somehow that gets you going more than any sexy come-on.

You trust him more than anyone. You did not hesitate coming to him with an embarrassing story. You ran to him before anyone else. You always seek him out first.

You know you are safe in his hands.

“Do whatever you want with me,” you say. You never make that sort of offer, but it feels so natural here and now. With him. “I’m yours.”

“Whatever I want?” he says, his smile big and dimples deep. He leans down, kissing your cheek then under your jaw. When he kisses your throat, it is hot, open-mouthed kiss, all teeth and tongue. It sends sparks shooting down your whole body, your hips bucking. He is strong, the weight of him between your legs pinning you to the mattress. You feel him, firm, hard, his whole body riding the rhythm of yours.

He has not even undone a single button.

“Whatever I want,” he repeats. “That’s a big offer.”

His hands, those gorgeous hands that had you captivated, slide up your thighs and under your skirt. He stares down into your face while lifting the material, leaving a trail of goosebumps all the way up your thighs. You feel yourself clench, a sharp pulse of need in your core. Your body is thoughtless in its hunger and it feels so good to give into it.

“Sometimes,” he says, “all I think about this… nothing extreme… just you like this… just us together…”

Every breath of a phrase is punctuated with a kiss, down your chest, your stomach, your thighs. You are not expecting him to kiss you through your underwear, your hips bucking when he opens his mouth and ravishes you regardless of the barrier. When you have soaked through the flimsy material, he finally hooks his pinkies into the fabric and tugs it down.

You do not have time to be shy, just desperate to get them off. He pushes your thighs back, folding you in half, then goes back to eating your pussy like he has all the time in the world, like there is no where he would rather be. Your legs shake, your toes curling, body held firmly in his capable hands as he licks you hungrily.

“Jeongin,” you gasp.

“You taste like heaven,” is his reply.

It is so cheesy but it makes you laugh, a happy sound that rumbles in your chest, that couples with pleasure and leaves your whole body singing. You feel like you could float away.

You are pliant, soft and malleable in his hands. He really can do anything with you. It does not scare you one bit. You trust him, following his direction when he rolls you onto your side. You gasp at his hand sliding under your shirt, squeezing your breasts, finding every sensitive nerve as he feels you up.

“Don’t think,” he says, one arm around your chest and the other sliding down between your legs. “Just feel, okay?”

“Mmm,” is your only reply.

You are so ready for him, wound up from his dirty kisses, taut with tension. By the time those long fingers are inside you, it feels like completion rather than intrusion. He fits like he belongs there, curling his fingers against places you never knew were sensitive. It is like your body gives way, revealing all your secrets to his searching touch.

“That’s it,” he says when your breathing gets erratic.

You did not even realize he had found somewhere extra sensitive, not until he is already fucking it slowly. By the time you realize just how soft you are there, it is too late to brace yourself. He adds another finger and your body tightens around him. Your eyes close and you see stars, gasping and rocking and almost crying at the dizzying swirl of sensation.

“Oh, Jeongin,” you say. His name is all you say for another minute. It is the sound on your lips when he moves you, when he turns his hand just slightly, when the new angle sets off a chain reaction of feeling. You cry out, clenching sporadically around his rapidly moving fingers. You yank a corner of the bedspread right off the mattress.

Your orgasm seems to go on forever, pulsing and aching and clenching. Your whole body feels boneless by the time it settles and he slips his fingers free.

“Oops,” he says, adjusting his skewed glasses with his clean hand. “Should’ve put a towel down after all.”

You look down and whimper at the obvious wetness on his bedsheets. You would apologize but he does not look sorry at all. In fact, he grins, looking very satisfied with himself.

You are in a state of utter disarray and he is still fully clothed, having shattered your world with just one hand. It makes you laugh, giddy.

Your arms finally drop. Though it takes a minute, you find a little strength and push yourself up. He is smiling when you climb into his lap. He even winks at you when he puts his wet fingers in his mouth.

You open your mouth too. You hold his gaze while he puts his fingers in your mouth, his breath catching when you suck them eagerly.

“I want something more,” you say.

“Do whatever you want with me,” he echoes your words back to you. “I’m yours.”

He is right about the simplest fantasy making for a wonderous reality. There are no expectations of any over-the-top actions; it is enough it is you and him, together. Clothing ends up scattered around his room, then you are in his lap and he is holding your waist, and you are holding the bars behind his head as you ride him where he sits against the headboard.

His glasses get askew but you fix them, laughing against his smile before kissing him again. It is for nothing because they fall off a second later, when he grabs you and moves, putting you on your back to fuck you at another angle. He slides a hand between you, rubbing at you, working you up. Your head falls back, your whole body tingling with the approach of another orgasm.

“Yes, yes,” he says, no doubt feeling you get tight around him. It is his moaning that sets you off, your legs around his hips, pulling him in close as you come together.

He kisses all over your face, both of you laughing when he slightly misses your lips. You find his glasses and put them back on him, meeting his re-focussed gaze and smiling.

“Was that an okay demonstration?” he teases. “Like I said, I’m not very good at drawing.”

“Maybe so,” you tease back, running your fingers through his hair. “I might need another one. Just to be sure.”

“Just to be sure,” he says, nodding very sagely. “Good idea. Maybe after that, I’ll take you out to dinner. Then we better come back here and try again.”

“Just to be sure,” you say.

“Just to be sure,” he agrees.

You are already smiling when he kisses you.

You have never been more sure about anything in your life.

#yang jeongin x reader #jeongin x reader #yang jeongin smut #jeongin smut #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #yang jeongin x you #skz x you #stray kids x you #valentinesdaystories

2K notes · View notes

pupkashi · 11 months

Text

the last person you expect to patch you up is gojo satoru, so why are you knocking on his door?

a/n: hi friends! i hope you enjoy this :] im not sure if i like it very much but I’ll let u guys pick it apart and decide if i should be run off the app or not :P please let me know what u guys think !!

wordcount: 1,376

masterlist

you’re hesitant to knock on the door you’re facing, one arm squeezing your middle and the other holding you up against the wall. you’re sure you looked like we’re about to die, but still you could help but feel like death was a better option than knocking on gojo satoru’s door at 2 in the morning.

the stinging in your side leaves you no choice, lifting your hand and knocking three times. every passing second seems eternal and you almost want to just walk away and head to campus, hoping you make it until morning.

the door swings open, satoru looks at you with wide eyes and messy hair. he looks so normal, you think, taking in his appearance of sweatpants and a t shirt he must’ve thrown on seconds before.

“what the fuck happened to you?” he breathes out, not hesitating to pick you up, carrying you to his restroom and flicking the light on. if you were any more lucid you might’ve caught the genuine concern in his voice and the pounding heart in his chest.

“think the higher ups hate me” you manage to chuckle out, sucking in a sharp breathe when you try to sit up on your own.

satoru is quick to help you up, large hands gently handling you. his brows are furrowed as he looks at the state you’re in.

“why didn’t you call up shoko or go to campus or- literally anything else?!” he scold you, his voice is a higher pitch than you’re used to, he’s running his hands through his hair, tugging slightly before sighing deeply and calming himself down.

“didn’t wanna bother ‘em” you say, voice small. gojo knows in his mind you of all people could never be a bother, especially when shoko absolutely loves you.

“can i take this off?” he asks softly, tugging at your uniform top. you nod weakly, letting him work the fabric off you gently, sucking his teeth when he sees the gash on your side.

“that bad huh?” you laugh, there’s a beat of silence that you find unbearable. your eyes are heavy and the only way you can muster staying awake is by talking, words leaving your mouth without even thinking, “not gonna tell me ‘I’ve had worse’ or ‘this is nothing’ ?”

satoru only brings himself to snicker, “you’re about to pass out and you still wanna bicker with me.”

“to be fair it’s always you starting shit” you chuckle, hissing when he starts cleaning your wound. satoru mumbles a small ‘sorry’ before continuing.

you weren’t completely wrong, satoru always loved seeing you riled up. he loved watching the way the fire ignited behind your eyes when you shot something back at satoru, he loved watching your nose scrunch up when he said something stupid, he loved how you’d fight back smiles when he disrespected some asshole higher up.

“yeah, yeah, you're always saying that” he smiles, finishing up whatever he could on your side before moving to the cuts on your face.

you were still as he gently dabbed the wipes on your face, the slight stinging feeling was the last thing on your mind. the smell of his body wash was muddling your thoughts, the way his fingertips brushed against your skin gave you goosebumps.

“who sent you on the mission?” his voice was no longer playful and light. there was an edge to his voice as he spoke, and you couldn’t stop the chills that ran down your spine.

the only thing you could muster was a small shrug of your shoulders.

“it was the higher ups from last time, wasn’t it? the one you stood up to?” his voice is threatening and low, blue eyes boring into you as you tried to avoid eye contact.

“y/n, look at me” the stern tone left no room for protest, looking at him and gulping. you nodded your head, whispering a small ‘yeah.’ satoru mumbled something you couldn’t hear, his jaw clenched and hands shaking slightly.

“I’m going to kill them” he spat, taking a step back before look at you again, the sight filling him with even more rage.

“didn’t you say that wouldn’t change anything?” you stated, sitting up as best you could, trying your best to hide the pain you felt from the sudden movement.

satoru ignored your words, already making a move to head out of the bathroom door, but your voice stopped him.

“don’t- i don’t wanna be alone” you whispered, eyes watering a bit as the reality of the situation hit you all at once. “i just- nevermind” you laughed dryly, hissing as you pushed yourself off the countertop and stood.

satoru was immediately at your side holding you up, “what are you-” your words cut him off before he could finish.

“I’m gonna go home, don’t wanna bother you more than i have” you smiled, eyes still a bit teary. you’re brain doesn’t process what’s happening fast enough, only realizing what’s happening a couple seconds later when satoru’s arms are wrapped around your body.

“you aren’t going anywhere” he mumbles against the top of your head, squeezing you gently.

the warmth of his body is enough to comfort you, muscles relaxing and letting your tears spill against his chest.

“why?” you whisper, the question causing satoru to tense up against you. “why do you care so much?”

his thoughts stop for a second, the only thing on his mind is you. the way you’re looking at him in a way you never have before, with an emotion he can’t place. he can only think of one thing.

“isn’t it obvious?” he replies, voice soft, his cheeks heating up and ears burning. he’s trying to hide the slight tremble of his hands as he caressed your cheek softly, thumb wiping away a stray tear.

“only obvious thing about you is your ego” you smile, laughing a bit between sniffles as satoru gasps at you.

“and you say i start things?” he giggles, picking you up softly before leading you to his bedroom. the two of you in a comfortable silence as he looks through his drawers, handing you one of his shirts and shorts for you to change into.

“you can drop me off at home-” you begin but satoru is quick to speak over you.

“I’ll sleep on the couch, there’s some toothbrushes in the top drawer under the sink,” he says, continuing to list off any other items you’d need and where to find them.

it’s ten minutes later and you’re laying in the large bed, staring at the ceiling when you find the energy to walk into the hallway, peeking around the corner and into the living room.

satoru smiled at you, the bright tv lights illuminating his figure, “cant sleep?” he asks. you nod your head, slowly making your way towards him. “c’mere” he says softly, gently moving you when you sit on the couch, letting you cuddle into his side until you were comfortable.

between the exhaustion and the comfort of satoru’s fingers running along your arm you were sound asleep in a matter of minutes (10, satoru was counting). he placed a feathery kiss to the top of you head, shifting to pick you up, carrying you to his bed and tucking you in, slipping besides you before facing the opposite direction.

you stirred a bit, mumbling something and causing satoru to turn, “y/n?” he whispered. you seemed to gravitate towards him, one of your arms finding him and tugging his shirt, making him come closer to you. still asleep, you nuzzled yourself against him, sighing softly before stilling again.

satoru draped his arm around you, keeping you close before letting his eyes shut. for tonight, he won’t think about the thing he’ll say and do to the higher ups who sent you on that mission as punishment.

instead he’ll hold you close, keeping you safe and making sure you’re well enough to argue on any and every thing possible. he’ll make you breakfast tomorrow and ask if you feel the same for him. he’ll rush you to shoko so he can kiss you with as much passion and fervor as he’s imagined since the time you almost beat him in an argument.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @luna0713hunter @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags

#not proofread we did like men as always #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru drabble #gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru one shot #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fanfic #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo Drabble #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen imagine #satoru gojo x reader fluff #gojou satoru x reader

4K notes · View notes

lijojo · 11 months

Text

genshin men sleeping habits

premise: in the early glows of the morning, you wake up in the vice grip of your lover. while it’s very heartwarming, you need to go to work. how does he convince you to stay in bed with him a little longer?

tw: suggestive for the last one

pretends to be asleep but doesn’t let up with his fucking grip regardless

you’ve. tried. everything. you tried nudging him awake, even gave him a couple kisses, but he doesn’t let up. instead, he groans and flips over, taking you along with him. you yelp, unable to brace for impact as you’re suddenly on your side.

he shuffles a bit, wrapping his legs around you a little tighter (if that was even possible). he presses his nose into the crook of your neck. he sighs, content.

after minutes of effort, you decide to relinquish any hopes of waking him up.

“i give up,” you say. “you win. a little longer won’t hurt, right?”

you get no response. but you don’t really need one anyway.

he’s not a very good pretender, with the way his lips can’t help but break out into a little triumphant smile.

alhaitham, kaeya, kaveh, childe, tighnari, thoma, zhongli, diluc, ayato, venti, baizhu, kazuha, scaramouche, xiao

he ambushes you when you least expect it

after many attempts to squeeze out of his hold, you’re successful. out of breath, maybe, but at least you gained the ability to finally roll out of bed and start the day.

sitting up, you give one last glance to your lover. the way his chest rises and falls so rhythmically. the peaceful look on his face. the way he squints when the sunlight hits his eyes. how his hands unconsciously look for you again. you almost feel bad.

that is, until you take one—maybe two, if he’s feeling generous—steps away from the bed. without any kind of sign, signal, or warning, he launches out of bed. he lunges at you like a ravenous wolf, wrapping his arms around your waist and hauling you back to bed with great force. he huffs when you land on his chest, but he’s quick to recover.

he wraps his arms around your shoulders, locking you in with his legs. “you’re not leaving me.”

you can’t help the grin spreading across your lips as you squirm. “let me go. i’m going to be late—”

he retaliates by peppering your neck with chaste kisses. “nuh uh. yo can’t leave me. my heart won’t allow it.”

you can’t even turn to face him. “honey, if you don’t let me go, next time i’m going to burn your breakfast.”

“uh huh.”

“i’ll steal all your favorite clothes and hide them,” you threaten.

“please do. i’m sure you’ll love my birthday suit,” he quips back.

“and i’m going to use all the hot water.”

“we can always shower together.”

“i’ll—”

“do you’re worst. i can take it,” he teases. “i’m still not letting you go. i chose you, i’m going to keep you ‘til the end of time. forever!”

with that, he presses sloppery kisses all over your face despite your protests that he needs to brush his teeth. even so, you can’t help but feel as if staying for five minutes more might not be so bad.

kaeya, kaveh, childe, thoma, venti, itto, heizou, ayato

“assures” you that getting ready doesn’t take as long as you know it does

“what if i did your hair and makeup for you?” he muses, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

you scoff playfully. “do you even know my makeup routine?”

“it can’t be as complicated as mine. oh! you could eat breakfast while i button up your clothes for you.”

his offer gets a laugh out of you. “we both know you’re not going to finish buttoning it up.”

“hm? whatever do you mean?” his hands drag down your waist to your hips, tracing slow circles. “you don’t trust me to put your clothes on for you?”

“i don’t think they’ll stay on, that’s the problem,” you say, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “you know how you get in the morning.”

“do i? how about you remind me? my little friend could use some help waking up—”

you give him a look of warning, to which he groans. “fine, fine.”

with that, he’s left you in silence, absentmindedly petting your head. he closes his eyes.

...

“if you aren’t going to say anything, i’m going drop kick you.”

he huffs. “don’t rush your genius boyfriend. what if i brushed your teeth while you brushed your hair? as they say, teamwork makes the dream work.”

you furrow your brows. “wouldn’t you get toothpaste on my shirt?”

“how about the other way around?”

you smile. “hmm... i like the sound of that.”

he smiles back, pressing a kiss to your nose. “well okay then. five more minutes it is then.”

you snuggle into his embrace, knowing very that he just spent the last five minutes trying to convince you to stay for five minutes more.

gorou, childe, heizou, cyno, ayato, baizhu, diluc, zhongli, itto, kazuha, tighnari, venti, albedo

he suggests the two of you go for round two

he puts on a mischievous little grin, one you know is up to no good. “what if we ‘slept’ a little more and you called in sick?”

his hand crawls down to your inner thigh, tracing teasing circles. “you’d be too sore to go to work anyways...you need to take care of yourself. what would your boss say if she saw you walking with a limp. hm? what do you say?”

you scoff at that. “i don’t think the solution you’re thinking of is going to help that.”

he purses his lips, as if in deep contemplation. with his free hand, he grips your hips a little tighter to pull you back towards him. you stiffen in surprise at something hard pressing against the curve of your ass. his morning wood twitches. “are you sure? maybe you’re sore because you haven’t done the proper stretches yet. luckily for you, your precious boyfriend knows a couple ways to get your hamstrings all loosened up. i could draw us a bath after... turn on some music... maybe go again? doesn’t that sound good?”

you chuckle. “you’re impossible.”

he presses a soft, open-mouth kiss to the crook of your neck. “only with you, love.”

scaramouche, kaeya, ayato, childe, kazuha, thoma, tighnari

6K notes · View notes

twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 5 months

Text

you’re an angel, i’m a dog ; satoru gojo

synopsis; an upcoming exam has been stressing you out, and satoru’s pleas for you to take care of yourself fall on deaf ears. he takes matters into his own hands.

word count; 4.3k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, yan!gojo, as far as yanderes go he’s very mild i think (im sensitive u can trust me!!), mentions of blood, implied murder (not depicted!!), he threatens your professor w a knife lol, surprisingly fluffy??, gojo is soooo lovesick & smitten, he just wants his baby to live a happy life :( is that so wrong :((, also your parents love him <33 and he calls you honey <333 ideal man.

a/n; i blacked out & when i woke up this was in my drafts… mysterious. @kissxcore here u go alexis <33 one very smitten morally gray yan!gojo just for u!! i completely lost the plot halfway through but i had a lot of fun writing this!! :33 i don’t dabble in yan content at all so it was a fun lil challenge hehe, i hope it ended up . Somewhat .. decent…

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

”haah…”

— the sigh spills into the air, dripping with exhaustion, a palpable fatigue that has his heart clenching.

just as he feared, you’re here. again. seated on the couch, in the living room, legs crossed and framed by flimsy strings of moonlight; illuminated only by the dim light of the laptop in front of you. carding through your hair, blinking sluggishly.

another sigh. deep, exasperated — from satoru, this time. he keeps a single hand on his hip, brows furrowed in soft disappointment.

”honey… what do you think you’re doing?”

you jolt, the sudden sound breaking you out of whatever trance you were previously in. when your gaze flits to his, craning your head to see him rest against the wall leading up to your bedroom, he thinks you look a little like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

it makes him smile. despite his disapproval.

”ah — satoru! it’s… um.” a moment passes. he can practically see the gears of your mind turning, searching for a good excuse. ”… not what it looks like?”

he clicks his tongue. ”nice try.”

then he’s walking towards you, in long strides, gliding across the room like a butterfly in search of nectar. from the sweetest flower there ever was.

even when said flower is still awake, past midnight, pulling an all-nighter despite his frequent advice not to. his very frequent, very thoughtful advice not to strain yourself until you just about pass out.

but you just won’t listen.

”’m disappointed in you, baby,” he huffs, just playful enough to ward off any genuine feelings of distress. he could never truly be disappointed in his baby. ”what did we say about studying this late, hm?”

a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips. satoru is standing in front of you, hands on his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow as you squirm. lighthearted, yes, but genuine. it makes you feel a little guilty.

”… sorry,” you breathe, closing the lid of your laptop. knowing he won’t let you stay up any longer. with the loss of light, your face becomes shrouded in darkness. ”just can’t sleep when i’m so stressed.”

at that, satoru makes a tiny noise — something worried, a little sad, from the base of his throat. a soft frown finds its way onto his lips, and he blinks the sleep away from his senses. plopping down beside you.

”i know. i’m not trying to lecture you,” he croons, reaching out to cradle the apple of your cheek. you melt into him like molten honey, easy and sweet. ”just worried. know you’re stressed.”

and he does. he does know — it’s all he’s been able to think about, these past few weeks. to his dismay, he’s even begun to grow used to this sight, used to finding you in the midst of working yourself to exhaustion. fighting the urge to sleep, slumped over your desk, or cooped up on the couch. staring into your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe.

time and time again, he’s told you to take care of yourself. tried to coax you into relaxing, rubbing your sore shoulders and kissing the puffy skin beneath your eyes. but this exam is important — you’ve told him as much, more times than he can count. he doesn’t doubt that you’re right.

of course you’d be stressed. he gets it.

still, though.

”but you know it’s not good, yeah? that it’ll just burn you out?” his thumb goes to smooth over the dark crescents beneath your eyes, gentle as a feather. ”we don’t want that, do we?”

you bite your lip. trapping it between your teeth. he knows you know. ”… yeah,” you admit, a flimsy little sigh on your tongue. ”it just feels easier to do this at night. don’t know why.”

”my little night owl.”

that makes you smile, a little, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. he curls an arm around your waist, and drags you into his lap; gentle, always gentle, like all that exists under your skin is made of porcelain. like the lines of your face form a string of words, a label of fragile: handle with care. he always does.

with his heartbeat by your ear, his warmth melting into yours, it’s easier to speak. a pressure on your chest that fades away. ”i’ll try not to do it again,” you murmur, biting back a soft yawn. nuzzling into his neck. ”promise. don’t wanna worry you…”

satoru softens.

(always so good to him.)

”it’s fine, honey. i understand.” he smiles, smoothing down your spine, counting the bumps of vertebra that slide along his palm. ”don’t worry that pretty little head of yours over me, alright?”

in return for his comfort, you wriggle away, lifting your head to give him a smile. one of your many smiles, each one fervently cherished by him; the one you’re wearing now is tired, a soft curl of your lips, the kind that makes him want to lull you to sleep. just the sight alone makes the anxiety in his veins feel like a worthy investment.

he doesn’t tell you anything that could cause that joy to diminish. doesn’t tell you that he can’t sleep without you, that he can barely breathe knowing you’re this stressed all time. doesn’t tell you that he jolted awake with a sinking feeling of dread, a gaping pit in his stomach when he didn’t immediately feel the warmth of your skin against his. doesn’t tell you that he always, always assumes the worst.

satoru doesn’t tell you these things. it’s a safety measure, an act of love. a bundle of unvoiced syllables, woven into white lies, silky and sweet. tailor-made to put your aching mind at ease.

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

it’s a theory, of sorts, a train of thought. a hypothesis made manifest. after many years of pondering, he’s arrived at the following conclusion; you are all that’s good. therefore, it only follows that you deserve everything that’s good, all of it and more. satoru believes you deserve every single thing your little heart desires — and he’s determined to give it to you.

so he’s been worried.

it’s not that he doesn’t trust you. he knows you’ll ace the exam, knows you’ll do your very best, knows you’ll make him proud. you always do. you aren’t the problem, no, never.

he just doesn’t trust your professor.

that unfair, stuck-up, incompetent professor who’d fail his students just for being a couple minutes late, who curates his exams to be as convoluted as humanly possible. you and your friends are starting to suspect he just likes berating people for a living. satoru knows it all, he’s heard it all, of course he has. satoru pays attention to everything, when it comes to you. he knows all about your professor, the man who’s been making your studies pure hell for the past semester.

it makes his blood boil. steady, ruminating, hot and heavy in his veins. a rivulet of lava.

(it was only a matter of time.)

satoru is a teacher too; he knows that type. one that has no business being a teacher, in the first place, one no student deserves to be subjected to. he’s met more of them in his career than he could even begin to count. the thought of one of his own students being at the mercy of someone so incompetent makes his skin itch.

and the thought of you, seated on the couch, crying and sniffling when he comes home because none of the exam questions made enough sense for you to even try —

it makes satoru want to claw his skin off.

it makes that tiny, tiny cavern in his heart extend, widen, like a maw, swallowing up his liver and lungs and sense of morality. an emptiness begging to be filled.

there’s only one way to satiate it.

so he plants a wet kiss on your forehead, ruffles your hair, tucks you into bed and waits until you fall asleep. deep and heavy, a slumber you won’t wake up from anytime soon. he presses his lips to your forehead one more time — for good measure.

then he grabs his coat and slips outside.

the moon is visible through the window.

a thin crescent, nailed next to the dim stars, leaking a dream-like fluorescent shine; illuminating the office, so quiet he can hear those erratic breaths spill out, one by one. a heavy, heavy silence, thick enough to spread like butter over toast.

(ah, that’s right — he forgot to buy the butter you asked for this morning. no wonder he feels so out of sorts. he’ll have to grab it on his way back.)

”who… w — what are — ?”

satoru stays silent. lips pursed, eyes keen, burning into the back of the man in front of him. close, almost chest to back, enough to have him scowling in displeasure.

just being in his presence makes satoru feel a little sick.

he keeps the blade pressed right beneath his adam’s apple, a silver glimmer in an office painted blue and gray. not enough to sink into his skin, but enough to have his heartbeat hammering, enough that satoru can practically feel those rapid flutters of life. brushing against his gloved hand.

he gets straight to the point. voice muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, low enough that it’s barely even audible. he’s careful, about this kind of thing. there’s a delicacy to the ill intent, something he’d be a little enamored with if it weren’t for the compass stuffed into his ribs — the compass that tells him this is wrong.

he just can’t bring himself to care.

”the upcoming exam.” his voice sends a shiver down the man’s spine. satoru can feel it. ”don’t fail a single student.”

silence. pure silence, suffocating them, tangling itself into the air. satoru can practically taste it — fear, familiar, that pang of panic. a ticking time-bomb. the knife stays pressed against warm skin, pushing, sinking, just a little, a drop of red against his pale throat.

it’s enough to get your professor to make a little noise, one that vaguely resembles a whine. like that of a small animal, rolling over on its belly, eager to play dead. no word is spoken in reply, but he nods, just barely, a nervous tremble of his head.

satoru hums, approving. ”good.” he doesn’t loosen his grip. ”there’s a particular student i’m worried about. marked them down in the catalogue... i’m counting on you.”

another noise. a grunt of affirmation, a silent plea — satoru allows that fear to seep into his own bones, just a little, just to get a taste of it. cold on his tongue. he wonders if this is what helplessness feels like.

then he takes a step back. slow, tentative, dragging the knife with him. not before parting his lips once more. ”don’t turn around,” he warns. ”i’ll be back if there are any complications. this’ll be our little secret, hm?”

the man in front of him doesn’t say a thing. frozen in fear, paralyzed, not moving an inch. a fly trapped in his web. it’s a relief.

before he exits the room, satoru puts the final nail in the coffin. just in case. ”i happen to know what school your daughter goes to.” he waits for a flinch, and it comes almost instantly. like clockwork. “remember that.”

it’s an empty threat. your professor doesn’t know that, though. he doesn’t know that satoru knows his daughter, that he walks past her preschool almost every morning on his way to work. that she waves to him whenever he passes by, and that he makes it a point to always wave back. a little troublemaker; the rowdiest of utahime’s preschoolers. she has a bubbly laugh, and just lost one of her milk teeth. she was giddy when she showed him, a bout of giggles spilling from her lips as he cooed and ruffled her hair.

he wouldn’t lay a finger on her.

but your professor doesn’t know that, hasn’t got a single clue, and satoru delights in the fear that must be running through his veins. down his spine, crawling into every narrow of his skeleton, making a home for itself that he’ll never quite be able to root out.

a gulp. satoru hears it, in the quiet of nightfall, just before he shuts the door behind him. good.

the rest of the evening is a blur. satoru gets home, relieved to find you still asleep, and tucks you into his chest. makes a mental reminder to order your favorite take out tomorrow; a little reward for your hard work.

finally, he can sleep easy. knowing you’ll get what you deserve.

three weeks later, satoru places his hand on the familiar doorknob in front of him, dragging his weight behind him. blinking sluggishly.

there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, weighing him down — like an anchor tied to his liver. a compass, tucked between his fourth and fifth rib, one that’ll always stay lodged right there. he’s learned to grow used to it, a natural consequence, a sign that his humanity is still intact.

that doesn’t make it any less bothersome, though.

(ridding the world of a pest shouldn’t make him feel dirty. especially when he felt nothing but contempt for the pest in question, for the way he whistled as you walked by, the words he spewed before satoru met his eye. vile. putrid. why should he feel guilty for wiping a stain off the pavement?

it does make him feel dirty, though. a sinking feeling in his chest.)

there’s nothing to be done about it. satoru swallows the unpleasant taste on his tongue, and drags the door open, closing it behind him with a softness he reserves for you alone.

and there you are.

on the couch, farther away, already looking his way — lips instantly curling up into what he knows will be a smile. this time, it’s laced with excitement. one of his personal favorites. his gaze devours the joy in your features, the glimpse he gets of your teeth, that familiar crinkle of your eyes.

you’re smiling. at him. you smile and his world wakes up, it’s dyed in different shades of blue, it’s brimming with life and love and something too good not to kill for. you smile and everything is right, good, worth it. you smile and it's as if the blood has been washed off his hands.

suddenly, all is well again. satoru exhales a blissful little breath.

“‘m home, honey,” he grins, a light pink dusting his cheeks, hanging his coat up before turning to face you. arms wide open. “did you miss me?”

his heartbeat stutters when you practically engulf him, all giddy giggles and that perfect smile, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “mhm,” is what you chirp, pressing kisses down his collarbone, and he has to bite down on his lip to stop the shivers trailing down his spine. he tastes iron, but laps it up with a coo. sickly-sweet.

“missed you too, precious,” he purrs. “sorry i was gone for so long — had to take care of something.”

he cups the back of your skull with his palm, large and crafted just to hold you, and marvels at how much you trust him. how you’re melting into his chest, fitting into every crevice of his heart. he wants to keep you there forever. forever and ever, always within reach, always close enough to touch.

but he also wants you to be happy. he wants to see you run away, wherever the wind takes you, if only so he’ll get to feel you jump into his arms again, when you’ve had your fill of the world. when you come home to him, where you both belong.

satoru would never cage you. never, never, never. he wants you to enjoy your life — confining you wouldn’t do any good, would only stifle that pretty smile he loves so dearly. he wants your world to be large, brimming with life, blooming with fervor, wants the air to be clear enough for your beautiful lungs. he couldn’t build a world for you, here, in this apartment. no matter how big or luxurious.

so his only option is to bend the world into a kinder shape — twist and mold until it forms a path good enough for you to follow.

(it’s worth it, he knows, he’ll always know. it’s worth it to see that smile.)

“is that a new coat?” you ask, naive and innocent, and it breaks him out of his thoughts, attention wired to the lilt of your voice.

“yeah.” it’s stylish, expensive, a nice shade of black. he had to throw the last one away. “looks nice, right? i’ll get you the same one, pretty.”

“you don’t have to, toru!” you hurriedly exclaim, knowing he’ll jump at the opportunity to spoil you. “i like the one i have now!”

satoru pouts. a soft huff, right by your ear. “you don’t wanna wear matching coats?” he feigns sadness, scratching softly at your scalp, drinking up the little purrs that bubble up in your throat.

and you giggle. you giggle and all he can think is worth it, worth it, worth it. a stained coat or two means nothing. the blood on his hands is just insurance.

“well, when you put it like that…” you shift a little, curling your arms around his neck, breathing him in. he wonders if you can smell the cleaning detergent. “i guess i wouldn’t mind a new coat.”

and he grins. “right? want me to buy you new shoes while i’m at it? some jewelry?” he peppers kisses down your neck, amusement laced in his voice. “the whole store?”

again, those giggles. again and again. he laps them up like fine wine. “okay, that’s too much.”

“but you deserve it!” he whines, sickeningly sweet. sick to his stomach with love. “been working so hard, my angel.”

and, suddenly — you light up. his little firefly. brightening, inhaling a giddy breath. pulling away, a little, and he does his best to bite back the frown on his face. you’re practically beaming, sunshine personified, eyes glittering with giddy joy.

“right! i almost forgot!”

then you’re skipping away, happily, to retrieve your phone. and he knows what you’re going to show him, but still feigns surprise when he sees the score on your exam, that perfect 100 on the screen. still makes an expression of shock that he knows will get you to laugh, still picks you up and spins you around and tells you how proud he is.

he almost, almost feels bad, seeing you smile so wide; at what you assume to be the fruits of your own labour. almost feels ashamed, knowing that perfect 100 wouldn’t exist without the knife at your professor’s throat.

but, then again, this is how it should be. those numbers are the fruits of your own labour, because satoru is a part of you. and you deserve it, deserve it more than anyone — he knows you would have gotten it, even without his help, if your professor was competent enough to see your brilliance.

satoru smiles. he is proud of you. and this is exactly how it should be. he’s just bending the world into its rightful shape, cutting strings from a wrongly woven web, righting the wrongs of the people around you.

you, you, you. the only thing that exists.

all of him is for you.

”i knew you could do it. never doubted you for a second, baby,” he smiles, so wide his cheeks hurt, and you return it with a kiss to his jaw.

”thank you. i’m just so relieved,” you exhale a breath, heavy, and it’s like he can practically see the stress melting from your shoulders and eyes. worth it, worth it, worth it. ”gosh. i’m gonna sleep like the dead tonight.”

”as you should,” satoru chirps, pinching your side. softly, brimming with fondness. ”but before that, we’re gonna celebrate. all day. and tomorrow too!”

another smile coaxed from your lips; this time, it’s a little bit shy. bashful, at the praise, his endless excitement. so precious he wants to kiss you breathless. give you all the air in his lungs.

so precious that he forgets about everything else.

this is what you always do to him; wrap him up in a blanket of your love, cloud his veins with a nectar so sweet he takes the leap into your arms without a second thought. a foolish, lovesick butterfly, sticking to a single rose; dripping with honey, overflowing. the butterfly is too drunk on love to care.

you’re his flower, his joy, the most useful form of anesthesia. with you in his veins, on his mind, your lips on his jaw — satoru can pretend that his hands are clean. that they always have been.

it all slips from his mind. your professor, the creep who catcalled you, that one classmate you’ve been complaining about recently. he forgets that they even exists, and satoru thinks that must be what love is: something that narrows your world down until you can make a home out of it.

(something worth cherishing, no matter the cost.)

as always, it’s your voice that snaps him out of the trance he’s in. turning around at the sound of your call, the orpheus to your eurydice, too in love to save you from himself. you’re both getting ready to head out, dressing up for a well-deserved date.

satoru feels himself smile. he does the dirty work, and you get to reap the rewards. heaven on earth.

“oh, by the way! would you want to have dinner with my parents tomorrow?” you meet his absent gaze with a tilt of your head. “they’ve been asking about you again. it’s such a headache, seriously.”

satoru giggles, barely containing how delighted he is. raising a playful brow. “oh? grumpy that you aren’t the favorite child anymore, hm?”

“okay, first of all —“ you stifle a giggle, pulling a drawer open, rummaging through it. freshly washed clothes. he washes most of your things. “you aren’t their child. and second of all —“

“— yet.”

a pause.

satoru watches your gaze flick over to him, then back to the drawer, collecting yourself. a cute flush to your cheeks. “… whatever.” you clear your throat. “second of all — i don’t like how much they like you. what kinda spell did you put them under? it’s always satoru this, satoru that!”

a huff fills the air, and you mutter something that sounds a little like mocking, an obnoxiously imitated where’s satoru? that makes him chuckle into his fist.

he shrugs. “i’m just a natural charmer, y’know? and, for the record; i would love to have dinner with them.” he sends you a wink, playful, and you roll your eyes. “are you joining us?”

a bout of laughter pushes past your lips, and satoru thinks he could die happy — just soaking up the joy that spills from out your throat. he wishes he could live in it, paint your house in it, wear it. he wants your joy to be all he ever feels. he feels sick at the idea of ever being out of earshot for it.

“yes, i’m joining you.” your scoff is dripping with humour. ”i’d hate to be the fourth wheel, but it is what it is.”

satoru stifles a grin. ”lucky me. three beauties all to myself,” he drawls, a seductive lilt to his voice, just to hear that little noise you always make with the back of your throat. vaguely disgusted.

”you’re so gross.”

a coo. like the buzzing of a bee. ”don’t be jealous, honey. know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” satoru smiles — more sincere than you’ll ever know. ”could never love anyone else.”

”so my parents are in second place?” you quirk a brow, amusement lacing your words, and he clicks his tongue.

”well, they made you. i’d have to be a fool not to worship artists of such caliber.”

”charmer.”

”yours.” the word is a knife at his throat, a stain on his coat, a love so heavy it’ll burn him alive. ”only yours.”

and again, you smile. all he can think is that you deserve everything, everything that’s good, everything he could ever give you. it’s all he can think as you go about your day, as he leads you outside, as he watches that flicker of joy dance within your iris. as he watches you walk wherever your heart takes you.

the thought remains when you return home, when you wrap yourselves up in blankets and he throws a leg over your waist and you curl an arm around his ribcage. it’s all he can think.

satoru was born to be of service — to someone, to the world, to something or another. he was born to carry a weight on his back.

so why not bear the weight of your burdens?

all he wants is to protect you. all he’ll ever need is that smile on your face. he was always bound to be just this: a dog at your heels, a halo around your head, the watchful eye keeping you safe from everything rotten in this world. he’s the butterfly, the spider, the web itself. and he’ll never let you be tangled up in it.

he was born to be of service to you. so service you he will, until it all comes back to bite him.

“satoruuu — stop stealing the blanket!”

he prays it never will.

#im a lil unsure how to feel abt this piece i feel like it lost its flow pretty quickly 😔👉👈but i rlly did have fun writing it hehe #my baseline for yan!gojo is basically; a kind man who’s so in love w u that he’s willing to compromise his own morals to keep u safe #he’s not particularly possessive or even obsessive?? to him violence really is just . a necessary means to keep u happy #this is almost definitely the only yan piece ill ever write bUT im very fond of this gojo … he’s a tortured little meowmeow <33 #cw yandere #yandere gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #tw yandere

1K notes · View notes

seongclb · 1 year

Text

— enhypen reaction to you being upset when they cheat on you in a dream !

bf!enha x gn!reader, fluff & humour, established relationship au, mentions of cheating & nightmares.

req. by anon! pls let me know if u like it :3

n. @woon2u u might be a bit delulu but i’m def delulu 4U

♫ phases by chase atlantic.

𖠗 이희승 | lee heeseung.

would probably be dead asleep when you whack him awake

“y/n, what is going on??” he slurs in his sleep

“YOU TELL ME???”

his eyes shoot wide open and he jumps to sit up, but still remaining groggy while he tries to think of what he’s done

“is this bc i ate ur cookie bc i said i would get you one tomorrow” he whines

you hit him with a pillow and he whelps

“i’ll get you two???” he says, and dodges your next hit

“you cheated on me.” you say and he looks at you with disgust

“oh shush,” he says, pulling you back to bed

he obviously wins against your attempts to push him away and traps you in his warm, snug embrace

he speaks softly with his hands tracing shapes on your arms, “why would i need to cheat when i have everything i’ve ever wanted right here with me?”

judging by the amount of kisses you place on his face, he can tell he’s done a good job at shooing away your concerns for the night.

𖠗 박종성 | park jongseong.

now, you’re the only one he’ll allow to disrupt his sleep

but.. this reason

he would just let out the biggest sigh before consoling you bc even though he’s tired as heck, you’re his love and he can’t afford for you to be bothered by something

“what’s up, love?” he’d ask while stroking your back

“i had a nightmare.”

he would immediately comfort you and question what it’s about, if you’re comfortable with saying

“you cheated on me”

oh gosh he has to fight the urge to roll his eyes

“i would never do such a thing, i love you far too much”

indeed he does since he’s willing to comfort you over his sleep and just in case the thought actually does bother you, he’ll be extra affectionate and loving to you as a reminder that he’s all yours

𖠗 심재윤 | sim jaeyun.

you’d have to literally first pry his clinging body off of yours and then shake him awake

“whattt”

he has the audacity to be grumpy, you think

“sim jaeyun.”

“uh oh” he sits up and rubs his eyes. “whatever it is, i’m sorry and i love you.”

“you think that’s enough for me to forgive you for CHEATING???”

he’s like wth and laughs

“babe, what are you even sayinggg? stop being so silly i’d never do that to you,” just kisses your forehead repeatedly

just forces you back to sleep against his chest and tomorrow if you’re still sad, he’ll make it up to you

but rn, man is too sleepy so he’ll show his reassurance in sleepy kisses and whispers of affection

𖠗 박성훈 | park sunghoon.

probably feels you jolt awake which is what wakes him up

“babe, are you okay?” while getting the glass of water for you just in case

“when were you going to tell me?” you whisper

“tell you what…” man is so confused like you just woke up from bed didn’t you???

“that you’ve been cheating on me.”

he’ll roll his eyes now

“and what evidence of this do you have, my love?” sunghoon would literally look at you with no expression

“i saw it.”

“where?”

you pause, “inmydreams”

“i didn’t quite catch that, y/n”

“in my dreams” you say.

he just sighs and pulls you in his embrace

“aigooo you’re so dramatic sometimes what will i do with you” but when he sees the pout fall even lower in your lips

he just kisses it away

“don’t let these silly dreams put things into your brain, i would never do that to you, i love you the most in the world.” he’ll make fun of you another day

𖠗 김선우 | kim sunoo.

another one who would have to be shook awake

would be so sassy straight away too

“what is so important that you had to wake me up at 2:48 am for ???”

“you cheated on me in my dream,” you pout.

now he pouts

immediately becomes more concerned

i just feel like sunoo would be more understanding that this is more than a silly dream

“awww, my love,” would first try calming you down if you’re too upset but would then just pat your head

“as if theres anyone better than you to cheat with anyway! nobody compares seriously,” he reassures

after you’re calm he probably focuses on making you laugh and comfortably going back to sleep

would hate for you to sleep with something so horrid on your mind

ur his other half why would he ever want to cheat???

𖠗 양정원 | yang jungwon.

your movements would wake him up

initial reaction is to check up on you

“y/n, are you okay?”

“jungwon would you ever cheat on me”

he’d first look at you like you have two heads

but becomes softer when he sees your eyes

“of course not!! you’re the only one i want; you’re just so perfect for me, babe”

he’d say a million things to show why he would never cheat

“the thought of being with someone else disgusts me, honestly.”

oh man and if you giggle

he’ll be like mission accomplished

that’s just his sign that you’re okay now

so all is good and you’re back off to sleep

does keep an eye on you for a few days just in case

𖠗 西村力 | nishimura riki

he’s a young, growing lad who needs his sleep

so when he wakes up to you frantically waking him up

hes a mix of grumpy and concerned

“what’s wrong?” while getting up to look at you

“i had a dream that you cheated on me.”

literally can’t take you seriously but is too tired to react

“a dream? y/n what the heck,” he says.

he’ll frown when he sees you’re serious

cups your cheeks in his hands

“you don’t have to worry about something like that, i love you and even if one day we don’t love each other anymore i would never cheat”

smiles at you with so much love

“now can we go back to sleep, i’m so tired”

he’ll treat you to ice cream tomorrow though :)

3K notes · View notes

sweet1delusi0ns · 10 days

Text

Haikyuu boys n cuddles ──☆*:・ﾟ

Team ! karasuno

Characters: Hinata, Kageyama, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Nishinoya, Daichi, Sugawara, Tanaka

Hinata✿

He will do anything to spend all day with you cuddling but bro has places to be yk

But he still tries to cuddle as much as possible even in public. If he’s on break and your there he will cuddle up to you in front of everyone, he don’t care! Unless your the one cuddling up to him then he will start blushinggg

But mostly y’all cuddle at one of your houses. He’s so awake and hyper that he can’t stay still but two minutes into the cuddle sesh he’s gone. He drools all over you but you don’t care, and you’ll gladly kiss him awake when it’s time to go

He mainly clings onto your side, like he just clamps himself onto your waist or arm and will just stay there! He also likes being held by you but that’s only for special occasions

Kageyama✿

He doesn’t beg and whine for cuddles but he will be pissed if he doesn’t get cuddles when he wants. He expects you to read his mind; “how was I supposed to know you wanted to cuddle you didn’t say anything?” “I DONT KNOW!”

But once he does get them he is very pleased with himself, he feel like he wins since he didn’t have to ask even though he was pouting the whole day which is basically the same-

He normally big spoons you while his face is like (¬◡¬). If you catch a glimpse of his dumb smirk you tease him which makes him hide in your hair instead~

He’s scared of cuddling anywhere public in any way- he wants cuddles to be private and special! He like just being with you and no one else ok!

Tsukishima✿

He thinks he’s so smart trying to make cuddling ‘your idea’ even though you didn’t even say anything at all. Like random he just walks up to you; “fineee since you wanna whine so much I guess we could cuddle.” You didn’t even say anything before he spoke up he was just to shy to admit he wanted to cuddle

He big spoons you but what he really loves is resting his head on your chest and wrapping his arms around you, You play with his hair and call him ‘your baby’ and at that point he doesn’t even try to stop it. He will deny it later tho👍

The only cuddling he really does PDA wise is letting you rest on him. He doesn’t care abt all the teasing his gunna get if your tired he doesn’t care he will be a pillow. Again he will deny it later even though there were witnesses

Yamaguchi✿

Never will he ever ask to cuddle, it’s way too embarrassing to ask you he’d rather just curl into a ball on top of you and wait for you to acknowledge him, he always lays on top of you even if he’s bigger or smaller than you he doesn’t care. He draws shapes on your arms while he waits for attention, he also likes when you pat his head-

Once you finally engage with him he was just start TALKINGG, about anything! When he’s comfortable he talks! About his day n such and sometimes he goes “oh do you wanna say something? No? Ok…blah blah blahhh” you don’t mind his yapping at all though

If you try hugging him in public or pulling him in he will just look away timidly and softly push off, hopeing no one sees his red face~

Nishinoya✿

He tries cuddling you literally everywhere. He can’t go one second without a cuddle- he could be in the middle of shopping or something and he will just stop, turn around and cling onto you, then after a minute he will get off and act like nothing happened

If you guys r just hanging out at your house and y’all decide to cuddle uhm, your going to have to pick the position cuz he can not make up his mind- honestly he just sprawls out and let’s you do whatever, normally you just hold him which he’s chill with

Also if you don’t give him nose kisses or play with his hair while cuddling he’s gunna be madddd!

Daichi✿

He gives you hugs n love but cuddling is rare but when it does happen it lasts HOURS. Like 4 full hours I’m being Fr. He holds you close to his chest and just stays there, he doesn’t even fall asleep he’s fully awake and he remembers every moment!

He waits all day for you both to have free time so you could just talk and cuddle and he will get impatient in you take too long, he’s been waiting all day ofc he’s gunna get impatient; “y/n hurry up!!!” “Be PATIENT!” “UGHHH”

When y’all cuddle he always hides his face in your hair or neck and he gets cold like really easily so when he starts getting a little cold he tightens his arms around you hoping for you to bring warmth to him

Sugawara✿

He is obsessed with cuddles but if he asked for them all the time he would feel like he’s bothering you, WHICH HES NOT!

He tries to figure out if your busy in any way ; “sooo y/n, you doing anything?” “Uhm no?” “Cool…cool…” “…do you wanna cuddle~!” “Yeah” you can tell what he wants without him having to ask which he loves

He cuddles by tucking under your chin and basically hiding in the neck, when you cuddle it’s nap time for him so you have a sleeping boy hiding in your neck while softly snoring, you comment about his snoring later and he got embarrassed 😔

Tanaka✿

He normally only cuddles late at night when he’s still hype asf and needs to calm down, so he just throws himself onto you-

He obviously uses your chest as a pillow so he wraps his hands round your waist as well, you could feel him nuzzling into your chest while he whispers something about you being so hot (as usual)

On a serious note he finds is so cute when you drag your thumb over his cheeks in an attempt to calm him down, he always grabs your hand and kisses it before actually calming down.

This should NOT have taken this long but I had shit to do forgive me😋

Btw: not proof read cuz I’m lazy🤞

561 notes · View notes

no1deepspacehater · 4 months

Text

You Get Into A Car Accident (Non Fatal)

Xavier

When he texted and you didn’t reply. He wasn’t worried.

When he went to your apartment, and you didn’t answer the door. He was mildly concerned.

When he saw on the news that a hunter was injured in a car crash. He grew worried.

And when he logged into the news feed of the UNICORN’s association, which shows direct information on all hunters, without proper pass, to see your status, he was frantic.

Nearly got into a car crash himself getting to the hospital, and when they wouldn’t let him in to see you, he flashed his high ranking badge, which got the message through.

You were unconscious when he got there, which suddenly reminded him how tired he was.

He prevailed through after checking with the nurses that you were okay, and with that, he pulled up a chair and blanket and fell asleep next to you.

You had to wake him up yourself after you had your breakfast (Saving some for him).

He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he blinked awake.

“You sure do know how to keep someone occupied (MC)… Try not to put yourself out of commission so often, or I’m going to have to find a new partner.” He mumbled absent mindedly as he consumed the rest of your fruit.

Zayne

If you’re not being taken care of at his hospital, he’s going to whichever one you’re at and taking over immediately. He’s THE Dr. Zayne so of course, he’s going to have his way.

For plots sake you’re at Akso Hospital for now.

If he’s in his office, whatever he’s doing is stopped immediately as his main priority is you.

If he’s dealing with another patient, or in a surgery, he’s still going to remain with his current patient, but his nerves are at an all-time high, which somehow makes him work better.

Says absolutely NOTHING as he tends to your wounds. You can’t tell if he’s seething with rage at you getting hurt or deeply disappointed that you got yourself hurt.

When you finally get the courage to say something, all you can say is his name.

“Doctor Zayne…”

He says nothing as he finishes applying a bandage. Afraid to say anything else, you wait until he’s done.

He takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh. He looks in your eyes, his own reflecting a type of tiredness you’ve only seen a couple other times you’ve been injured, but with battles instead.

To him, although you put your life in danger being a hunter every day, he’s reminded that the casualties of life are another thing he has to worry about with you.

He caresses your face and just whispers. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Rafayel

He’d called and texted, and you didn’t reply. Almost didn’t answer you when you called him the next morning.

When he saw you in the hospital bed, he got SO MAD.

Immediately hung up. You thought he was being a brat until he showed up to your hospital room exactly 10 minutes later.

“Some bodyguard you are…” He huffed, faux annoyed, as he pulled out fruit, water, a stuffed animal and balloons from his bag. How did he even get all this stuff in 10 minutes!?

Visits every day until you’re out. Argues with the nurses every time visiting hours come to a close. You have to tell him to shut up and go and apologize for him every time before they officially ban him from the hospital.

He brings his sketchbook in tow and draws scenes of you, you in the hospital, and car accidents tinged with red and dark blue. Even though they’re sketches, they still portray his feelings of anxious despair and sorrow of what could’ve been for the one he most cared about.

“Seriously, stop trying to get yourself killed all the time! … I don’t know what I’d do without you…”

#love and deepspace #lads x reader #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #rafayel love and deepspace #l&ds #l&ds x reader #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #loveanddeepspace #l&ds rafayel #l&ds xavier #l&ds zayne #love and deepspace headcanons #Lauve And Deepspace

1K notes · View notes

p3terparker · 9 months

Text

𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗱 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter and you argue because he loves to spend all of his money on you.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: sorry for disappearing for a few months… again 😭 i am slowly getting back into writing so please bear with me! i saw my last fic reached over 9000 notes so that really motivated me to write something else for you guys ♡ i’m not so sure how i feel about this but i really do see peter as the type of boyfriend to blow all of his paycheck on you so i just had to write this LOL anyways i hope you all enjoy this!!

“put it on my card” you suddenly hear peter say as he pulled your earphones out, causing you to jump.

you were trying to keep yourself awake while waiting for peter to come through your window after patrolling for the night. to keep yourself occupied, you decided to listen to music and do some online shopping (which consisted of you just putting things in your cart but never actually buying anything). with your back facing your window and your earphones in, you didn’t see or hear peter come inside.

“jesus christ peter, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“yeah yeah whatever” he says not really caring that he nearly scared the life out of you. “as i was saying before you rudely snapped at me, put your order on my card”

“i literally have over $400 worth of clothes in my cart”

“and?”

“what do you mean and? that’s expensive”

“your point?”

“that’s more than half of your paycheck”

“doesn’t matter. the whole reason why i have a job is to spoil you” he says while taking off his suit and getting comfortable in your bed.

“aww pete, you’re too sweet. but still, no. i don’t want you spending that much money on me”

he hummed an okay which led you to believe he was gonna just drop the conversation.

you were so wrong.

before you know it, he’s shooting a web at your laptop and dragging it over to him.

“NOOOO!” you scream dramatically and tackle him on your bed before he can type in his card information.

“LET ME BUY YOU CLOTHES!” he screams back while trying to push you off of him so he can grab your laptop again.

you quickly snatched your laptop from the bed and ran out of your room as fast as you could.

“GET BACK HERE!” peter shouted while chasing after you to which you just ignored and kept running away.

“you know what, you leave me no choice” he abruptly stops chasing you which causes you to stop in confusion.

suddenly, he jumped and stuck to your roof with his webs, and webbed your laptop over to him. you literally had no way of getting to him now.

“that’s no fair, you’re cheating!” you whined.

he laughed at you standing helplessly below him and finally placed your $450 order on his card.

“here you go” he smiled and jumped down from the roof, handing your laptop back over to you.

before you were about to scold him for spending so much money on you, you heard a knock at your door.

you and peter both looked at each other confused because you weren’t expecting anybody for the night. he walked to the door and opened, revealing the people you were least expecting.

the police.

“hello, we were called over here for a noise complaint. your neighbors reported screaming being heard from your apartment room and they were concerned. is everything alright?”

you did not expect to end your night by explaining to the police that you and your boyfriend were screaming over buying clothes.

2K notes · View notes

mistiell · 9 months

Note

Ok so, maybe you knew this already or maybe not, but... In the game, if you hover over Astarion's original outfit it says that it looks rather old and mended over several times. The running theory is that he's been reparing his own clothes (explains the cheeky embroidery in his underwear) , since we damn well know that Cazador would not give two hoots about it, and that poor baby has been running around in a 200 year old shirt and probably doesn't have much clothes with him. I just want something fluffy... maybe the reader always let's him have first dibs on whatever they find or even gets him new clothes. I just imagine him finding a brand new shirt on his tent that is soft and comfortable and I just want to weep in a corner 🥺

Can you help a sister out?

Here you are <33 (also, I'm so sorry this took so long lol) WC: 1.3k Also CW for potential spoilers

---

Astarion is slow to wake this morning, fully intending to lay with you in his tent as long as you’ll allow. Rolling over with his eyes still closed, he reaches to hook his arm around your waist only to grasp at nothing but air.

He’s certainly awake now.

It’s unusual to find you missing given he’s usually the first to wake between the two of you; two hundred years of living in The Underdark and only ever surfacing at night having apparently made him a little sensitive to light.

Sitting up and shifting onto his knees, he reaches to pull the tent flap back and peer out at the campfire. A small gust of the cool morning air sweeps over his bare torso, raising goosebumps over the skin of his arms despite the fact that he’s not really bothered by the cold. That little spike of anxiety dulls when he finds you haven’t strayed far; standing maybe fifteen feet away in conversation with Karlach.

As if you can sense him, you glance over and light up when you spot him peeking out of the tent, excusing yourself from the tiefling. He expects you to come straight over, but instead, you turn to grab a basket he hadn’t seen first.

He shuffles back to let you come inside, flushing a bit when you brush a few rogue curls from his face and bend to peck his hairline, “Good morning, handsome.”

“I- Good morning.” Is all he manages, still tired and a little stunned. Shifting off of his knees to sit cross-legged, he peers into the basket as you set it down in front of him and cocks a brow, “What’s this?”

“Clothes.”

“Well yes, I can see that, darling.” He sasses and you chortle, “But why have you brought me a basket of clothes?”

“I found it the last time we left camp.” He remembers that. You’d gone out with Karlach, Gale and Lae’zel and came back bloodied and bruised. He’d been so focused on getting you patched up that he hadn’t even thought of asking about what you might have found.

You clear your throat and glance away, smiling sheepishly, “I picked out some things I thought you’d like, but then I thought you might prefer to have a look through yourself, so,” You shrug and jerk your nose at the basket, “I brought you all of it.”

His heart would be stuttering in his chest if it could. Reaching into the pile, he thumbs over a few of the garments, feeling the different fabrics and looking over all the different colours. It’s been centuries since he’s had a choice in what to wear. Sure, he’s picked up some things throughout your travels but never so much all at once. It’s a little overwhelming, having all this to pick through after so long.

Taking hold of the basket, he pushes it closer to you, “Show me what you picked out first.”

“Oh,” Your heart rate spikes, and he smiles as you stutter out, “Are- Are you sure? I’m not sure you’d actually like what I picked out. That’s one of the reasons I brought you the whole basket.”

He scoffs and waves off the thought, “Nonsense. You could hand me the most distasteful outfit in all of Faerûn and I’d at least try it on for you.”

“Really?” “Of course I would.” He realises the implications of what he’s just said and tries to play off the sentiment with a puckish grin, gesturing towards himself, “It’s hard to not look good in something when you’re this beautiful.”

You laugh, eyes squinting shut with the force of your smile. “Yes, you truly are dashing, my love.”

“Stating the obvious, but I can’t complain,” You roll your eyes at him as he taps the sides of the basket, “Now, are you going to show me what you picked out? Or are you just going to sit here sing my praises? Personally, I’d be fine either way.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll get on with it,” Reaching into the clothes, your laughter tapers off as you glance back up at him timidly one last time, “But if you don’t like something, tell me, okay?”

He lays his palm flat against his sternum, all dramatics as he grins, “Cross my heart and hope to,” He pauses, before chuckling, “Well, die again, I suppose.”

He laughs when you shoot him a glare with no real malice behind it and tut disapprovingly.

He watches in quiet curiosity as you pull out a few items, explaining why you thought he’d like them as you go. Your reasons range from colours and patterns to embroidery and necklines, all of which are shockingly on par with his tastes. It appears you know him better than he thought you did.

“That’s about it, I think.” Your brows furrow in a way that is entirely too cute – especially for someone he’s watched eviscerate hoards of goblins – before you perk up with an excited gasp, “Oh! I almost forgot!”

Turning to look this way and that, you make a little sound of satisfaction when your gaze lands on your pack. Your shirt rides up a bit when you twist onto your knees to reach for it, and he stifles the urge to run his hand over the sliver skin it exposes. You rummage through a few pockets before finding what you’re looking for, returning to kneel in front of him with something hidden in your hand.

“Close your eyes.” You urge, and he does as you’ve asked.

“Ooh, saved the best for last, have you?” He grins, holding out his hands before you even ask.

You chuckle, sounding a little nervous, “Hopefully.”

He hears the tinkling of metal and nearly jumps when your hand makes contact with his, one cradling the backs of his while the other presses something small and rough into his palm.

“Open.” He can hear the smile in your voice as you say it.

On your command, he opens his eyes to find you’ve given him a necklace. The pendent is a little piece of a raw, orange crystal encircled by dainty gold rods that are bent to resemble branches.

“This is... beautiful.” He breathes, turning it over in his hand to admire the jagged edges, “What kind of crystal is it?”

“Sunstone.” He looks up at you then, finding a shy smile hung on your lips, “I know it’s a little on the nose but...,” You worry your bottom lip for a moment, clearly a little hesitant to continue, “I know you’re worried about... what’ll happen once the tadpoles are removed. So, I wanted to get you something just in case. It’s not the same thing, obviously, but I thought this way you can still figuratively have a little piece of the sun if,” Cutting yourself off, you glance away for a moment, “Well, if things don’t go the way we hope.”

He stares at you for a long moment, entirely unsure of what to say. He doesn’t think there’s anything he could say to convey just how much the gesture means to him.

Setting the necklace on his pillow, he draws you into his arms and weaves them tight around your waist. He pulls you to him so suddenly that your knees bump his shins, but you don’t seem to mind as you hook your arms around the back of his neck. His eyes burn as he murmurs against the side of your neck, “I love you.”

You card your fingers through his hair and he shudders, leaning further into you as you dot a few sweet kisses along the length of his shoulder.

“I love you too.” Your words are muddled as they’re mumbled into his skin, “More than you know.”

Maybe he didn’t before, but he thinks he has an idea now. You love him enough that you gave him his own little chunk of the sun. Even if things don’t pan out they way he hopes they will, he doesn’t think he’ll need the necklace – however pretty it may be.

He’s already got his bit of the sun wrapped up tight in his arms.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #astarion bg3 #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion x gn reader #bg3

2K notes · View notes

chalkscene · 7 months

Text

tears of themis ⇢ YOU DECIDE TO SLEEP ON THE COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT

ft. luke pearce, artem wing, marius von hagen & vyn richter

you’re shifting restlessly on the couch when you catch your LUKE alarm keychain—handmade by luke himself—peeking from behind the armrest, “luke says he’s sorry.” you can’t help but smile at the sound of luke faking a small voice and whatever rage that filled you from your argument hours ago has now dissipated, endeared by the sweet gesture. “you’re gonna set off that alarm by accident,” you quip, the lightness in your tone encouraging luke to come into view. “you’re not mad anymore?” he asks, cautious yet hopeful. all his years of training and building a hard exterior to be a detective have nothing on you because in the warmth behind his hazel eyes that only you can bring out, you still find the boy you grew up with. the boy you’ve always loved. “i can’t stay mad at you,” you admit, on the brink of tears, “luke, i’m really sorry…” luke is quick to bring you in his arms, declining your apology because that’s what he does—he’ll blame everything before he’ll blame you. you’re unable to hold back a sob, prompting him to hold you tighter before he whispers in your ear, “let’s not do this again, okay?”

ARTEM is going over a recent case when he realizes it’s almost midnight. he’s usually one to pull an all-nighter but gnawing at the back of his mind is the argument he had with you today—you two haven’t spoken to each other since. after having decided to put off his work until tomorrow, he walks out of his home office to join you in bed but he finds you in the living room instead, your pillows and blanket already set up on the sofa. he can tell you’re aware of his presence from the way you’re deliberately not looking in his direction. still, he attempts to catch your attention with a soft call of your name. when you don’t reply, he carefully crosses the distance between the two of you. “we can’t fix this if you won’t talk to me,” he pleads. artem’s convinced his words have fallen on deaf ears until you finally speak, “i just don’t want to say the wrong thing again.” artem understands, thinking back to what started as a simple disagreement escalating into something it shouldn’t have and before you could stop it, you were both raising your voices at each other, saying things you didn’t mean. “i’m sorry about everything i said,” your voice sounds weak as it quivers and artem immediately wraps you in his embrace. “me too,” he tells you, “we can talk tomorrow. just come to bed.” when you nod into his chest, he presses a reassuring kiss at top of your head as he promises, “we’re alright.”

as MARIUS waits for you in bed, anxiety slowly eats away at him, the argument he had with you hours ago replaying in his mind. you should’ve walked in by now, he thinks, so he waits a few more minutes before getting on his feet and makes his way downstairs. he’s rehearsing his apology, muttering to himself to test the words on his tongue but it all flies out the window when he finds you asleep on the sofa. ridden with guilt, he decides to save his sorry’s for tomorrow when you’re both lucid for a proper conversation. marius is careful not to wake you up—gently slipping an arm beneath your head and looping the other under your knees to carry you to the bedroom. he’s tucking you in bed when you begin to stir awake. “sorry,” you hear him whisper, “didn’t mean to wake you up.” “what time is it?” you ask groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “it’s late. go back to sleep.” he places a tender kiss on your forehead to lull you to your slumber before he shifts you on your side, his chest against your back as he slides an arm across your torso. “sweet dreams,” he mutters and you feel his breath on the nape of your neck. “marius?” “hm?” “i’m sorry about earlier…” “that’s my line, miss,” he quips, albeit sincerely. he gives your body a gentle squeeze as he pulls you flush against him. “i’m sorry, too,” he replies, “i never want you to go to sleep upset.”

you’re getting settled on the couch when you hear VYN clear his throat as he carefully places a fresh cup of tea on the table in front of you. “chamomile tea,” he states, “it will help you sleep better.” there’s the slightest caution in his voice but it’s enough to tell you what the tea is for—peace offering after your heated disagreement earlier. “thank you,” you mumble, gradually feeling the guilt bubbling in your chest, “you’re using reverse psychology on me, aren’t you?” there’s no bite in your tone but vyn’s eyes still widen at the accusation. “n-no,” he stutters and a giggle involuntarily escapes you, to vyn’s surprise. “i’m joking.” when you notice his body language go lax, you slowly reach for his hand. “and i’m sorry for the things i said to you,” you tell him, “i didn’t mean it.” “i know.” a soft smile curls on his lips as he interlocks your fingers together, “so am i.” you stay quiet for a moment, basking in his touch that you missed terribly before he speaks again. “if you still wish to be alone tonight, i don’t mind staying here.” you fight the urge to roll your eyes, aware of the fact that this is just him assessing your boundaries—vyn does mind and you know that—so you shoot him a dubious look instead to which he responds with a sheepish smile. “i suppose you’ve changed your mind?” you actually give him an eye roll this time. “you know you had me at chamomile.”

#tears of themis imagines #tears of themis #tears of themis x reader #tot x reader #luke pearce #luke pearce x reader #luke x reader #artem wing #artem wing x reader #artem x reader #marius von hagen #marius von hagen x reader #marius x reader #vyn richter #vyn richter x reader #vyn x reader

2K notes · View notes

kiss-inthekitchen · 2 months

Text

favorite insomniac | spencer reid

a little warm-up exercise i just finished <3 you can't sleep, so you decide to call the only other person you know who would be awake at this hour. ~500 words

You don’t get insomnia. Usually, you fall asleep quickly and easily, and then devolve into any number of nightmares or vivid dreams or somethings that cause to you wake up feeling like you hadn’t slept at all.

Obviously not great. But not insomnia.

Tonight, however, is not a usual night.

You roll over once again, after what feels like hours but is probably only twenty minutes of lying as still as possible and trying to will your body to be tired. You check the time on your phone; 3:14 AM.

Ugh. You have to be at work in less than 6 hours, awake in less than 5. Closer to 4, if you want to actually look presentable.

You groan, scrubbing your hands over your face and barely resisting the urge to start punching your pillows.

And then you give up.

There’s one insomniac you know who’s got a pretty good chance of being awake right now. You've dialed the number before you can even think about it. The line rings once, and you realize what an inappropriate, quite possibly disrespectful choice this had been. You’re about to hang up, hovering over the red button, when you hear him.

“Hey,” he says, voice raspy.

Oh god, oh god. “Please tell me I didn’t wake you up.”

“No,” Spencer chuckles bitterly, “You didn’t. What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep?”

His eyebrows raise halfway to his hairline. “So you called me?”

You and Spencer are coworkers. You’re friends. You just don’t really hang out much outside of work and work-related events. Not that you haven’t wanted to, you just… don’t really know how. Or if you should. Or if it would be particularly smart.

“I’m so sorry. I figured if anyone was liable to be awake right now, it’d be… I wasn’t thinking. I’ll let you go, I’m–”

“Hey, it’s alright,” he says, amused. You’re the only person he ever gets the opportunity to calm down; he’s usually the most nervous person in the room. “This doesn’t usually happen to you though, does it?”

“No,” you huff, flopping back against your pillows. “I’d ask you for tips, but whatever you’re doing clearly isn’t working.”

“That’s nice.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not wrong.”

You make a self-satisfied little “hmph” sound.

“What did you call me for then?”

Something in the timbre of his voice makes your heart speed up. “I don’t know, human connection across the ether that is 3 AM?” The sense that you’re the only two people in the universe. The sound of his voice. Not that you could say that part out loud.

“Wanna go for a drive?”

Huh? “Wh– We have work in, like, 5 hours.”

“Oh, you haven’t been counting, have you?”

“You mean like thinking ‘if I fall asleep right now at this moment I could get 5 hours of sleep’ but then I still don’t fall asleep and I watch the minutes go by until it’s only 4 and a half hours and then I get angry at myself for being awake and then I’m somehow even more awake?”

He chuckles, dark and rich through the phone. “The classic trap. Never count the hours.”

“Now you tell me.”

“Alright,” he grunts, and you hear him shuffling around, “I’m picking you up.”

“You're what?!"

"I'm picking you up," his voice lilts up, almost like a question. But not like he's asking for permission, more like he's teasing you. Like he knows your answer anyway.

"Now? You have a car?”

“Yes, now. And yes, I have a car,” you hear jingling on the other end. “You’re gonna like it.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds drabble #my fics #couldn't find a cuter pic of spencer on a phone so its payphone image u have to suspend ur disbelief

630 notes · View notes

twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 2 months

Text

somewhere in the back of your mind, you know this isn’t how things should be.

your living room is dimly lit, illuminated only by the tv in front of you, and the moon is glowing a pearlescent blue. flimsy strings of moonlight spill over your floorboards, reflecting off the windows, and whatever you’re doing isn’t what you should be doing. you shouldn’t be awake this late, shouldn’t be gorging on sweets before bed, shouldn’t be having a rendezvous with an enemy — shouldn’t be watching movies with your ex of ten years.

most of all, you shouldn’t be feeling nearly this content.

getō is seated right beside you, legs comfortably spread, popping a macaron into his mouth. chewing it slowly, savouring the flavour. or lack thereof, you suppose — he’s digested far too many curses for his taste buds to remain intact.

or so he says, anyhow.

this time, he brought pastries with him. expensive ones, you can tell, just from the package alone; a soft pastel pink box, wrapped up in silk, golden letters etched into the front. mont blancs, macarons, two slices of strawberry shortcake. carefully picked, suited to your tastes.

(you aren’t actually too fond of sweets, anymore, but how is he to know? he hasn’t seen you in years.)

”would you like me to make us some tea?”

when you turn your gaze towards him, getō’s wearing a smile. laid-back, the slightest upward curl, tilting his head in a manner you’re far too used to. eyes shining with something keen. somehow, it feels difficult to tear your gaze away from his.

but you manage, turning forward, grasping control over your sleepy vocal cords. ”no, i’m good.”

a low hum. he’s still looking at you.

”coffee?”

”the sweets are more than enough.”

this time, a smile — one you can’t see but still somehow sense. a little bit amused. getō gazes at you with a knowing look, watches you glance at the box of pastries on your coffee table; studying you under the monochrome flicker of the tv-screen.

”understood,” he finally quips, leaning back into the leather couch. exhaling a little breath. ”eat as much as you’d like. i bought them for you, you know.”

you nod, nibbling at a macaron. not glancing his way.

being alone with him still feels a little awkward. a little tense — to be curled up on the same couch, watching the same movie, just like your old sleepovers in high school. there’s an elephant in the room that neither of you have addressed — not since he first showed up, just a couple weeks ago, waltzing up to your apartment with a plastic bag of dvds after a decade of estrangement. wearing heavy robes, and a familiar smile. asking to be let in.

and despite every single circumstance telling you not to, you did just that. you’ve yet to refuse.

(satoru would hate you, if he knew.)

so he’s there, right beside you, and you don’t talk about it. not his choice, not your work, not anything except the movie playing on the screen in front of you. this time, it’s one he’s seen before. beautiful, he called it, and for once you think it might be a romance — if the kiss between the main actors is anything to go by.

you wonder if that’s why he says it.

”say, do you hate me?”

you still. freezing in place, for a moment, discontent but not surprised. he’s always been like this; breaking any illusion of peace before you can find solace in it.

you bite back a groan, and shoot him a glance out of the corner of your eye — but he isn’t looking at you. only at the tv, at the two men, holding hands and standing on a bridge in the rain, watching the stars twinkle in the sky. and you sigh, turning your head to look at him fully, parting your lips. your voice comes out frustrated.

”do you really want to have this conversation now?”

”when else?” he chuckles, meeting your gaze with one brow raised. amber eyes gleaming with mirth, and something else, something less practiced. ”you don’t have to answer. i’m just curious.”

you gulp down the last of the macaron, licking your lips for any leftover crumbs — unaware of how his eyes follow the movement. ”are you?”

a hum buzzes in the back of his throat, a tiny rasp. you wonder if he’s tired. ”i hadn’t expected this, you know.” he taps at his knee with the pads of his fingers, rhythmic and controlled. ”i thought it was just wishful thinking… that you’d let me come this close.”

you feel his gaze on you. it’s heavy, heavy like lead, like a loaded gun. you feel it dissect you from afar, and can’t find it in you to reach for another pastry.

”… would you have preferred being kicked out?”

”not at all.” a little grin plays at his lips, something in his voice betraying the face he’s making. ”are you avoiding the question?”

another sigh. you’re painfully aware of how resigned it sounds, spilling out into the open air, already filling with a sense of dread — any leftover nostalgia bursting at the seams. you want to tell him so many things, but every thread inside your mind feels all tangled up.

and, as always, getō beats you to the punch.

”that’s fine, too.” a brief pause, a twitch of his pinkie. he closes his eyes and inhales a breath. ”because i’ll keep waiting.”

for a second, you consider not taking the bait.

then you’re giving in. because that’s what you always do, whenever he’s involved. you watch him in the dark, pale skin enveloped by moonlight, raven hair spilling across the headrest. he looks beautiful, like this, just resting his eyes.

”… for what?” you whisper, and his answer comes without a hitch to his breath.

”for you to love me again.”

…

getō tilts his head, opening his eyes, a golden brown dragging you into their depths. he looks expectant, selfishly awaiting a response, and you’re tired.

(unbeknownst to you, he resists the urge to intertwine your fingers, to trace every ridge and dip of your knuckles with his thumb. to squeeze your palm like a promise, something concrete.)

when your mind has managed to untangle itself, something in your gaze turns sharp. frustrated, impatient, disappointed, looking at him with a raised brow. ”you really are stupid, aren’t you?”

as fast as it came, your gaze returns to the screen in front of you. monochrome, flickering, two beautiful men. one of them is holding a gun to the other’s temple, and the victim looks appeased. the movie’s almost over.

(how very like him, to find such violence beautiful.)

quietly, you swallow down the bile building up in the back of your throat. a decade of bitter flavours. clenching your teeth, nails digging into the couch beneath you, leather on your cold fingertips. it’s a little peeled.

you wonder why you even bother being honest, when he never quite seems to return the favour.

but the room is dimly lit, and the moon is big and bright, and your ex of ten years is sitting right next to you. in your apartment, on your couch, watching a movie on your tv. when he could, should be anywhere else. he’s with you, and he pulls the words out of your throat without trying. puppeteering your heartbeat.

”… as if i ever stopped.”

silence.

you hear a gunshot ring out. low, muffled, a crackle of static. one of the men falls down to the ground, and you can’t tell who's who. the actors are forgettable, but the soundtrack is pretty. it rings in your ears like a lullaby.

getō says your name.

it sounds the same as you remember. honeyed syllables, spilling from his parted lips, silky and sweet. he says your name like he’s asking to marry you, and you can hear the smile he’s struggling to repress.

”will you look at me?”

it’s less of a question, and more of a demand. you wonder why he even bothers asking — but you’ve never really understood the way his brain works. never understood why a burglar would bother asking the shopkeeper for permission before reaching for the register, when they’ll be leaving with the money either way.

and you’re paralyzed, stuck in place on the couch, gaze glued to the screen in front of you. but you aren’t watching, not really, just looking. and you don’t want to see what kind of face he’s making. so you whisper;

”.. no.”

”no?” he mimics, something like a coo on the tip of his tongue. as always, you can feel his gaze, travelling down your face like a trickle of honey. ”and why is that, my dear?”

you bite down on your lip.

a long, long moment passes, and neither of you say a word. he’s looking at you, and you’re looking down at your lap, at your clenched fists. a little meek. it’s quiet, the calm before the storm, and you know exactly what’s going to happen — it’s already set in stone.

”because you’re going to kiss me,” you exhale, finally, resignation on your breath. ”and i’m going to let you.”

…

for a second, you wonder if his silence means he understands. if he can hear the desperate plea in your voice, if he can translate it correctly.

but his fingertips graze the lines of your jaw, his palm sneaks under your chin, and he keeps you in place. turning your head to meet his gaze, his amber eyes, dripping with something hungry; something pleading.

this time, he doesn’t ask for permission. he leans forward until there’s no space between you, tips your head back, and kisses you with bated breath — as softly as he can manage, which is still too intense for your liking. still brimming with desperation, something carnal, like he wants to pour his everything into the kiss but knows he shouldn’t. he tastes like tobacco.

and it’s over.

you know it is, because your senses are flooded with him, him, him. nothing but him, the strands of his raven hair ghosting your skin, his greedy tongue licking along your teeth, large palms resting on your spine and the back of your head. you’re pliant, surrendering yourself to his touch. he’s cradling you like he loves you, and you feel like you’ve done something awful, because you have.

because you’ve let him come so close, again, invited him inside — inside of your home, your ribcage. and he won’t bother making a home for himself there, because it’s already waiting for him, untouched, between your fourth and fifth ribs.

you never bothered to get rid of it.

(that’s your sin.)

getō hums, muffled by your lips. he sounds pleased. he sounds like he’s been waiting for this for decades, and you suppose that he has. he murmurs praise that you do nothing but swallow down.

everything feels too perfect, too normal, and it’s too much, too much, too much. your lips pressed together, your chests pressed together, your noses meeting in a tender touch. you choke down the noise that threatens to push past your lips, and he kisses you like a starved man. like he’s trying to drown in you.

he only pulls away once he realizes that you’re crying, and by then it’s too late. his widening eyes don’t matter, your cold hands don’t matter, the tremble of your erratic heartbeat has never mattered less. he looks at you with remorse, and it doesn’t matter.

(he’s yours, again, and you’re his.

you can’t stop crying.)

”… i’m sorry.”

in the background, you hear the sound of gentle whispers, an ending scene. the men are talking to each other, speaking softly, and your eyes burn with tears. geto catches one of them with his forefinger, and leans forward to plant a kiss against your nose. chaste, this time. still mumbling apologies.

it doesn’t matter, because a tiny sob still breaks past your throat — and you know the sound must hurt him.

you hate that. you hate that you always hurt him, hate that you care, hate that you feel nothing but guilt when he’s around. you hate the movie still playing to your left, hate that he doesn’t hate it, hate that he loves you. hate that you love him, that you probably always will.

you hate that you blink up at him with glassy eyes, swallow down a shaky breath, and kiss him again. hate that it’s still the only thing you know how to do well.

he doesn’t pull away, only biting back a noise of surprise — but he makes sure to kiss you gently, as if you’re made of porcelain, slow and tender, cradling you closer still. he wipes away your tears with his thumb, one after another, and you hate yourself because everything feels so deliriously right.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that what you’re playing is a losing game.

(he’s yours, and you’re his. it’s already set in stone.)

726 notes · View notes