#the idea of him getting all soft when it's late at night and he's sleepy & he's more verbally affectionate and just 🥰🥰 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

laiiaaa · 11 months

Text

CINNAMON SUGAR — CARMEN BERZATTO

summary Carmen comes home to you late at night. Luckily, you manage to stay awake.

length 2k

contents absolutely zero plot, literally just a sweet n cute n sappy moment existing in a vacuum, holy shit so much fluff i might die (got the idea for this while listening to margaret & let the light in by lana del rey n it's realllll obvious), too many kisses to count, this is what he'd be like after intensive therapy i reckon, not proofread so be nice

Carmen opens the door to the bedroom carefully, minding the creaky hinge in the middle of the night. Moonlight peeks through the window, caught at the right time when the city doesn’t block its path into the apartment, giving just enough glow to the room to see you fast asleep in bed. It’s late, he realizes, even later than usual. He needs to work on that.

He makes his way to the bed, stopping at your side to kneel beside you and simply adore you: the curve of your nose, the plush of your lips in that pout you wear only when you’re asleep, the eyelashes laid against your cheeks.

You stir when he presses his lips to your temple, a soft groan pulled from your lips. “…Bear?”

“Yeah, ‘s me, baby.” Even at a whisper, he thinks he’s too loud, and with his rough and tired hand he brushes over the top of your head just light enough to keep you sleepy.

A drowsy hand reaches out from under the covers to smooth over the contours of his face, tracing along shadows made hazy by a few hours’ rest. “You coming to bed soon?”

“Almost,” he murmurs, smoothing a palm up your exposed arm to hold your hand steady. He pulls ever so slightly away from your palm, only to turn to land gentle kisses against its soft skin, worshiping the pieces of you that treat him with more care than he thinks he’s worthy of. “Needa take a shower first, alright? But I’ll be right back.”

He could’ve done that much by now—could’ve cleaned himself, rid himself of a day's work before seeing you—but truthfully, waiting any longer would’ve driven him mad. He would’ve been itchy in the shower, skin aflame knowing he could’ve felt your touch by then, arms and hands jittering to have your curves beneath them. His lips trail down to your wrist before he turns over your hand to kiss the backs of your fingers.

“Okay,” you answer, muffled by the blankets and pillow and the squeak of the floorboard as Carmen stands back up.

He makes his trip quick and quiet. He brushes his teeth and swipes up a towel while the water heats up, leaving just enough time to hang it on the hook and strip before hopping in. There’s a beat where he closes his eyes and just breathes, clears his mind of the day’s stress, lets warm water saturate his hair and cascade down his back. He lathers his hair with shampoo—the one you bought for him once to free him from the chains of 3-in-1 and that he’s been purchasing ever since to keep you happy—before cleaning the rest of his body, all while thinking about how much better it’d feel, how much more relief he’d get if it were you beside him under the stream instead of just his thoughts. But with the shampoo and soap down the drain goes that idea, much like the fleeting thought of using conditioner. You’ve yet to get to him on that one, especially at a moment like this, when time is of the essence and you’re waiting on him. Maybe another night, when you take your own product and swirl it around his curls; if it gives him an excuse to stay with you just a few minutes more, he’ll do it.

He hops out of the water like it’s acid and wraps the towel around his waist after drying himself to avoid trouble in the morning (you hate when the floor gets wet, and even if it wastes time, he’ll be sure to prevent that). Out goes the light again as he walks into the hall, sneaking back into the bedroom to get dressed into briefs and nothing more—you’ll keep him warm enough under the blankets.

It’s only then—when he peels back those final layers—that he realizes he’s been smiling the whole time.

Once he’s settled into the grooves of the mattress, chest to your back, you’re turning around to curl into his torso, like a magnetic field brought you there.

“Hey,” he coos, “Y’don’t have to move f’me, yeah? Just sleep, baby.” Moved by your eagerness, his arms curl around you, one along your waist as the other nicely fits comfortably into the space between your neck and shoulder.

And yet you shift a little more to cast an arm against his chest, his heart beating beneath your palm, head on his shoulder with a leg hooked onto his hip, split halfway between mattress and his body. “ ‘S more comfy this way, Carm.” You sigh and breathe deep into his skin. “You smell good, too.”

He can’t even lie well enough to convince himself his heart doesn’t run a million miles faster when you cozy up to him like this, caught in a space part fatigue and part love, with your hums ringing in his ear. “ ‘S that shampoo you got me a while ago…Sometime this week—” he yawns, and if he weren’t dying to hear your voice a few more times, he’d be a little more thankful for sleep coming so easily— “Sometime this week we can go t’the store, you can pick out another body wash f’me to try, too.”

“Mm, I’d like that.” You smooth your hand from his chest to his neck and shoulder, massaging there gently where he gets sore as a barely-there kiss lands to the skin beneath you. “How was it today?” The restaurant. His headaches. Richie’s mood lately. The flow of the kitchen. The strain in his back.

“Was alright,” he answers, as honestly as he can, soothing himself by brushing a hand up along your spine. “Real busy, so I didn’t get to leave ‘till late, ‘m sorry.”

“ ‘S alright, I stayed in and just relaxed for the night.” You snuggle into him a little deeper, and he thinks he could melt. “I was gonna ask you to bring something home, but it’s a weekend, so I didn’t wanna bother you in a rush.”

“What’d you want?”

From your lips comes a light and airy giggle, milliseconds of the best sounds he’s ever heard. “I just wanted some fries, honestly…didn’t feel like going out.”

“Heh,” he laughs, smiling while his eyes stay glued to the ceiling—as if looking at you would make the moment disappear. “I would’ve picked ‘em up for you, ‘r at least had Fak get ‘em to you.”

You yawn in tandem with the tailend of his thought, so your answer’s a bit softer. “Uh-uh, I like them better when you make ‘em.”

“Yeah? ‘ve I been pampering you too much?” He teases you, adds on a kiss to the top of your head as he squeezes you a bit tighter, but it’s all a ruse to cover up how much faster his pulse is when you say those words, like all the work he’s put in—all the love he has for you—makes its way to the table for not just anyone, but for you, the one person he’s sure matters more than the rest. More than those fucking stars, more than Chef of the Year, more than any critic’s review, more than he can wrap his head around; he feels it in his chest and that’s enough.

“Of course you have,” you agree, peeking up at him and craning your neck to plant your lips to his jaw, savoring it long enough to leave a smirk against his skin. “You’re always so sweet to me, Bear—” one more quick peck just beneath his ear— “love when you cook for me.”

He thinks he could pass out like this, with the last thing he hears being those words, but his fatigue seems to serve as an anesthetic that lets him soak it in for a bit longer, running his free hand through damp curls while a heavy, giddy sigh leaving his lips that lets you know he hears you, that he loves telling you he loves you through his art, that he lives for the smile on your face when he stays home for a few hours longer to make you breakfast. Yet with all the time spent having his shell soften for you, he can’t always find the right words, so he settles for the next best thing: “Y’know, uh…Marcus’s been playing around with recipes…”

He feels you smile against his chest, knowing what’s to come. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, an’ I’d never let ‘im serve ‘em, ‘cause, y’know…” He loses himself for a moment in the lull of your fingertips tracing mindless shapes into his chest. “They don’t fit the menu…but uh, he made these…these rolls today…”

“Mhm? ‘M listening…”

Carmen knew that, of course, from the faint kisses you peppered between breaths. He lets the fan whir through the gaps in his thoughts. “I think you’d like ‘em, he had some classic cinnamon, ‘n…a blueberry lemon goin’…”

“That sounds really good,” you whisper, the syllables lengthened from a shared lack of sleep.

“I know,” he drawls, and he’s a little too proud of himself for once when he adds, “Which is why I said I’d let ‘im fix up the lemon recipe a few more times if he made a batch for you.”

“Did you really?” The dazed smile comes through in your voice, a bubbliness to it that tells him he made the right call.

He figures that’s why he’s so drawn to you—all the right calls come easy to him, the effort feels natural and unpracticed, unlike the tar that builds in his throat when it comes to so many other people. With you, being good is anything but demanding. “ ‘F course, baby…”

It turns him to a puddle, the sweetness that drips from your fingertips, so he cradles your wrist carefully in his hand and lifts it to his lips to show it the love it deserves before urging the hand to busy itself with the tufts of hair behind his hear, to which you happily oblige. You twirl a lock around your finger, performing a methodical spiral, and even though he knows by the time it dries it’ll stick out from the mess like a sore thumb, he’d stop breathing before pulling your hand away. It’s soothing, that pattern. It stokes the fire in his gut that makes him feel a little less lonely when you’re not around.

“I brought…” He yawns again, his eyelids growing heavy. “I brought you some of the cinnamon rolls…Sugar liked ‘em…they’re on the counter for you tomorrow mornin'…” He’s not sure whether it’s your doing or the hours of stress endured throughout the day, but he knows this is the most relaxed he’s ever been, laying with you and doing little else other than indulging in your tender touches and shy kisses.

“Thank you, my love,” slips away with breath, sotto voce, as Carmen leaves brief kisses to your hairline.

And he thanks God for being able to do it even with such an intense fatigue washing over him—at least part of him does, the part that’s still awake—because the movement lets you tilt your head and graze your fingertips by his jaw, bringing his lips kindly to yours for the first and last time tonight. Somewhere in that beautiful tangle there’s a mutual agreement: an unspoken Goodnight, I love you, in the mix, a finality in his offering and your gracious thanks that doesn’t warrant anything more than your head tucked neatly into his neck, left to bask in the comfort of his arms wrapped around you.

Just like any other night with you, he can sleep peacefully with the unconscious push and pull of your bodies intertwined. He knows that by morning, you’ll still be in his arms, in the bed you share, waiting on your good morning kiss from under the covers.

And he’ll still be beneath your warmth, his mind fuzzy and full of tenderness, every part of him dying to marry you.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fic #carmy berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x y/n #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagines #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear #carmy the bear #the bear fx #the bear x reader #the bear season 2

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captainfern · 11 months

Note

I have a request/idea! What about Price being away, and coming home to the reader late at night unexpectedly? They've already gone to bed, and he sees the way they try to find comfort in his absence? (Cuddled up with his pillow, wearing a set of his old dogtags, and his shirt, seeing one of his nice cigars half-burned in an ashtray because they were using it like incense, etc) Could be pure fluff and sleepy cuddles or the reader could wake up and have an enthusiastic reunion with him?

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Where Did You Sleep Last Night

Captain John Price x gn!reader

[“Where Did You Sleep Last Night” by Nirvana]

[sfw]

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• summary - what the request says :) • rating - sfw �� wordcount - 1.2k • warnings - gn!reader [referred to as 'my love', 'darling' etc], pure fluff and cosiness, strong language as usual because i clearly have a very limited expressive vocabulary lmao—

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Although he was beyond exhausted when he returned home from a rough deployment, Price never let it show. He was intent on striding into his home and being instantly greeted by you, no matter the time. The middle of the night, the early hours of the morning, you'd be there to greet him, and it was his favourite part of coming home.

Coming home to you.

More than often, he'd barely get in the door before you were wrapping your arms around him, or jumping into his arms. Some days, you were insatiable— pulling at his belt, shoving your hands beneath his shirt, sucking bruises on his neck. On more than a few occasions, you and Price didn't even make it to the couch, let alone your bed.

Other days, it was pure bliss— he'd hug you tight as you peppered soft kisses across his face. You'd cook for him, massage his tight muscles, tend to the cuts and bruises and the fresh scars along his body. You'd rub his hair as he rested his head in your lap while you told him about what you'd been up to the days, weeks, months he'd been away.

It's not that he didn't love the sex. Of course he fucking did. But the domesticity that came with you, your hugs and kisses and your beautiful voice was all that he needed most days.

And that's what he craved today as he walked up the front steps and unlocked the front door.

It was two in the morning. Hardly any cars on the road, no birdsong in the trees. It was pitch black outside, except for the crescent moon and the twinkle of stars in the sky. As Price approached the house, he noticed not many of the lights were on. Usually, you'd leave the front hall light on for him if he got home late, but even the kitchen light was off, meaning you weren't waiting for him there.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, listening to the silence of your shared home. He kicked off his boots, still waiting for you to sprint down the hall and launch yourself into his awaiting arms.

But you didn't, which Price found odd.

He dumped his bags in the hall too and checked the kitchen, living room and dining room. You weren't there, cooking, or watching TV, or scrolling through your phone. He huffed quietly to himself, double-checking all the doors were locked before he moved towards the main bedroom.

The door was open a crack, and Price could smell something familiar. Your perfume, of course, that he absolutely loved. But, was that cigar smoke?

His cigar smoke?

He pushed the door open, and his heart lurched when he saw you. You looked like a fucking dream.

You were on his side of the bed, closest to the door, lying on your stomach with your arms curled beneath his pillow. The blankets had dropped down your body, revealing that you were wearing one of his shirts— his favourite shirt, too, that he wore right before he left. And on the bedside table, a dead cigar that, at one point, was lit. It hadn't been smoked from, Price could tell, but it had been lit— lit enough that the smell lingered in the room like incense.

He could smell his cologne, too. Like it'd been spritzed around the room like fucking air freshener.

Price couldn't help the overwhelming pride that surged within him, seeing you like this. So desperate for anything him. You looked so peaceful like this, and it made Price's heart swell.

But, he couldn't prevent that small tickle of guilt in the base of his stomach. He swallowed thickly, emotion dense in his throat as he approached the bed. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, stroking your cheek with a large hand.

You stirred, groaning. Price cursed himself for waking you but, in all honesty, he wasn't sorry. Not now that he could talk to you, touch you, be near you.

"Mm? Price?" You muttered, turning onto your back and sitting up, rubbing your eyes.

"M'here, my love."

Your heart soared out of your chest as you wrapped your arms around Price, dragging him onto the bed. He offered little resistance, letting you roll him onto you. He all but crushed you in his arms, insistent on not letting you go. He buried his face into your hair while you buried your face into the crook of his neck, trying not to sob.

"Missed you," you mumbled, voice hoarse from sleep and tickling the sensitive skin on Price's throat. "Missed you so much."

"I know, my love, I missed you too," Price said, shifting to the side so you were both laying on the bed. "M'sorry for being away for so long."

"S'all right," you whispered. "Glad you're home."

Your hands were quick to move under his shirt, but not in a sexual way. You sought his warmth, his skin. You smoothed your palms down the soft ridges of his muscles, then up along his ribs, before they skirted around his back and pulled him closer.

"I haven't had a shower, my love." Price told you as your hands rubbed up and down his back, basking in his warmth.

You grunted at him, face now buried in his chest, directly between his pecs. He huffed a laugh, pulling you closer to that one leg was thrown around his hip. He held your lower back, rubbing gentle circles.

"Did you light one of my good cigars?" Price joked after his eyes flickered to the ashtray on the bedside table, a dead cigar inside.

You hummed. "Yeah. Missed the smell of you."

Price's heart clenched painfully. He loved you so much.

"And... this is my shirt," He pinched the fabric, rubbing it between his fingers. "I wore it before I left. Did you even wash it?"

You shook your head, breathing hard into his chest. "No, why would I? Then it wouldn't smell like you anymore."

He didn't reply, just pulled you closer. And that's how you two stayed for a while; just holding each other, absorbing each others presence, basking in each others warmth.

After a long while, Price cleared his throat. "I, uh, missed you not greeting me at the door."

You tucked your head up so you could look at him. "Oh, Price, I'm sorry. I was so tired, and I was supposed to set an alarm, but I forgot."

"S'all right, darling," Price said, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry for waking you."

"Don't apologise," you whispered, kissing him. "If you didn't, I would've been pissed anyway."

He laughed against your lips, and you shared a long, lazy kiss. Eventually, you parted, and Price went to move so he could have a shower. You groaned, loud, holding him to you as he attempted to get off the bed.

"Nooooo—"

"I haven't had a shower, love."

"Ughhh, I don't care. We can wash the sheets tomorrow."

"Darling—"

"Price, just get into fucking bed, I swear to god."

Price laughed at that. You let him go just long enough for him to take off his pants and shirt, before he settled next to you half naked. You whined in glee, cuddling up to his chest, enjoying the warmth and weight of his arms around you, his chin resting on the top of your head.

"I love you," Price whispered. "So much."

"I love you too, sir."

He exhaled deeply and you giggled against his chest.

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#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #captain john price #captain price #fem reader #price x reader #captain john price x female reader

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unreliablesnake · 6 months

Text

Big reputation (Simon Riley x reader)

Summary: You got injured on the field and now Ghost feels bad. Well, maybe it's not just guilt...

Note: The people have spoken. Soft!Ghost. Fluff. Short story.

In your previous team you managed to enrage a general that you shouldn’t have, and apparently kicking you out of your comfortable position was his way of punishing you. So now you came to meet your new team at the base, already having ideas of who’s who based on rumors circulating in the military.

There was Price who was fair and relatively calm, Gaz who was loyal to the fault and was a surprisingly nice guy in general once he warmed up to you, and you couldn’t forget about Soap–whose call sign you found utterly ridiculous–who was a big mouthed but reportedly funny Scotsman.

And then there was Ghost, the man who was a mystery to most. No one has seen his face from the people you talked to about the team, and you had a feeling you wouldn’t get to see it either. But that was okay. Him being a big and scary guy wearing a skull mask that every single person was terrified of was more than enough to make you cautious around him.

Fast forward to four months later, when Ghost became your shadow after a fucked up mission where you got hurt. It happened under his watch so he was probably blaming himself, but he never really gave you a reason why he was always near you. Soap was the one who mentioned him possibly feeling guilty, and since you had no better idea, you believed it to be true.

The big scary guy didn’t seem so scary anymore. He was more like a loyal guard dog that followed you everywhere and scared off people you didn't want to be around.

“You should go to bed, it’s late,” he said one evening after a briefing.

It was only the two of you in the room, everyone had left already, but he was going through some reports before taking them to Price. You let out a sigh and leaned forward to rest your elbows on your thighs as you observed him. He had left the room before, but after it emptied and it was only you in there, he came back with the files. Out of nowhere. Without a warning. He mumbled something about needing a quiet place, but that was a terrible excuse considering he had his room to go to.

For some reason he glanced over at you every once in a while, watching you as if there was something he wanted to say to you. But every time your eyes met, he returned his attention to the papers in front of him. He didn’t speak up and you weren’t about to bother him with questions. Ghost was usually pissed if someone asked too many questions, this is how Soap got burned a few times in the past.

Then something changed. He closed the folder and turned his attention to you again, this time not shying away from making it obvious he was staring. You raised an eyebrow in question, hoping he would say something, but he remained silent. With a groan you stood up and walked over to him, gently pushing the folder away so you could sit on the edge of the desk next to the lieutenant.

His hand inched closer, just enough to let his little finger brush your thigh. “It’s late,” he repeated his previous statement.

“I’m not sleepy,” you replied with a shrug. “Why have you been watching me like this? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then?”

Ghost sighed under the mask and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He was toying with it for a few moments, his eyes focused on the item instead of you. “You’re causing me quite a few sleepless nights, Rabid,” he muttered as he pulled out a cigarette from the box. He called you by the nickname that awful general had given you a few months back, and you knew he never did that without a good reason.

What were you supposed to say to that? I’m sorry? No, that wouldn’t be right. So you chose to be careful with your next words. “You can’t sleep?” you asked him, genuinely interested.

“Not when all I can think about is you and what I’ve done to you,” he replied quietly.

“Why, what have you done to me?”

He shook his head, mumbled something like ‘fuck it’, then pulled his mask to his nose and lit the cigarette. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him getting in trouble for this. Price would be angry, because he believed if he could refrain from lighting a cigar indoors, so could others. So now that Ghost was inhaling the smoke with closed eyes, you didn’t know what to do or say. He would eventually speak up, right?

Just when you were beginning to think he wouldn’t talk to you, his amber eyes landed on you and he said, “I sent you in there. You got hurt because of me.”

Soap had been right, he really did blame himself. Interesting. “Ghost, that wasn’t your fault,” you assured him. “Shit happens, it comes with the job. Don’t blame yourself.”

His free hand moved to take yours in his, and his long, thick, and gloved fingers wrapped around it gently. “I’m not blaming myself for you getting hurt, I know it comes with the job. I just can’t stop thinking about the what ifs. What if you died? What if you got so injured you would be discharged from the force? What if you were mad at me? What if you left me behind?” This last one made you raise an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you haven’t considered this after what happened,” he told you.

“Never thought about leaving you behind,” you admitted. “You would mind? If I left and we never met again, I mean.”

Instead of answering, he raised your hand to his lips. “You and me… That would be quite a conversation, wouldn’t it? With your reputation and mine… Well,” he said, and you could see the shining in his eyes that gave away he was smiling.

It took you a minute to realize he was talking about the two of you being in a romantic relationship. He was right, this would be huge. You were also a lieutenant, he wasn’t your superior, but people feared you both for different reasons. Ghost was… Ghost. All he had to do was stare at someone for five seconds and they would run away screaming. You, on the other hand, were feared because you were unpredictable. One wrong word and you would be at the poor bastard’s throat.

So yeah. If there was anything to know, people wouldn’t shut up about it. You wondered if he was aware of the bets recruits were making about you. If there was anyone from base you slept with, it would be Ghost according to most of them. Maybe they were right. Maybe that was bound to happen. But maybe Ghost was taking part in the bet for fun.

“I don’t care about that bet,” he suddenly spoke up. You were terrified for a moment since you had no idea how he figured out what you were just talking about. “I care about you. Would you mind if I kissed you?”

You were too stunned to respond, all you could think about was the fact he dared to ask you this. You weren’t that close, not with him keeping a comfortable distance all the time. “Right now? Yeah, I would mind. Let’s just get to know each other first, yeah? Maybe over a drink.”

Ghost placed a soft kiss on your hand. “Anything you want,” he told you with a smile before pulling down the mask and getting rid of the remains of his cigarette.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare #mw3

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ackermai07 · 2 months

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Hi! Could you write a one shot for Bakugo, Todoroki, and Kirishima where the class is watching a movie or something at the dorms and their crush falls asleep on them? I can see the boys getting all blushy when she unconsciously snuggles up closer to them 🥰🥰

Thank you!

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ˢᵒ ᵃᵈᵒʳᵒᵇᵃˡᵉ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗ ᵘᵍʰʰʰʰʰ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸˢ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁱᵉ ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ ⁱᵗ

wearning! : pure fluff

Don't repost please!!

"Is everyone ready?"

Mina shouted, making sure everything was set and everyone was prepared.

In short, what was happening was that tomorrow is a holiday, and after a tiring week, the girls suggested the idea of watching a movie (the kind you like), staying up late, and enjoying themselves to compensate for the positive energy lost through training and studying, and of course, everyone agreed.

𝗕𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼𝘂 𝗞𝗮𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗸𝗶

The surprise was how this early-to-bed, serious guy had actually agreed to this silly movie night offer, but of course, no one dared to comment on it (they didn't want to be the reason for him changing his mind).

"Tsk... why on earth did I agree to watch this stupid movie in the first place," Bakugo muttered to himself, his eyes fixed on the TV screen where the movie was playing. Truthfully, he knew the reason he was here- 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

Bakugo had always admired your confident, composed, and intelligent personality, to the point where he found himself gradually falling for you, struggling to break free from its grasp.

Another annoyed sigh escaped his lips, feigning irritation as usual, but deep down, he was genuinely happy to be sitting next to you on the couch, able to inhale your soothing scent.

It didn't take another minute before he felt a weight on his shoulder. His eyebrow raised in confusion, and when he turned his head to see, he was met with your lovely, soft face resting on his shoulder. The boy swore he could feel his heart pounding out of his chest, and for a moment, he stopped thinking, just staring at you with flushed cheeks, thankfully unnoticed in the dimmed lights.

"Oi... you," he said in his rough tone, which seemed calmer, then lightly shrugs trying to wake you up. "You'll miss the damn movie... wake up."

Meanwhile, all he got in response was a sleepy nuzzle from you, moving closer to hug his side more, enjoying the warmth emanating from him.

Poor Bakugo stopped his movements and froze in place for about a few minutes. The first to notice was Kirishima, who turned to see what was up with his friend.

"Hey Baku-bro, what's wro..."

And there Kirishima caught sight of your sleeping form next to him, a wide grin spreading across his face. Even before he spoke, Bakugo silently gestured to him, thus ensuring he stayed close to you for a longer period.

He absentmindedly played with your hair, eliciting contented hums from you, which seemed to draw the attention of the entire class towards you two. Oh, and don't worry about any commotion; once Bakugo gives them the death glare, they'll turn away without saying a word.

(half of the class has fallen asleep already, anyway).

By the end of the movie, he didn't even realize he had fallen asleep, his head resting on yours, inhaling your refreshing scent and feeling your warmth.

(This incident might actually serve as a strong incentive for him to hurry up and confess to you as soon as possible).

𝗧𝗼𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗶 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁𝗼

It was known that Shoto often found himself in these kinds of nights, spending time with his friends, and with you, the love of his life.

Both of you attended the same middle school, and there were many clashes between you, but at that time, Shoto was only focused on his deep-seated hatred for his father.

Now, at U.A. High School, he found the time to develop his feelings for you, thus becoming immersed in love for you.

And there he was now, on the floor in front of the TV, covered with blankets for comfortable seating. You were sitting beside him, and oh, how difficult it was for him to focus on the movie content with you so close.

He also threw sidelong glances at you, admiring your focused face on the screen, and your slightly parted lips from concentrating so hard on the events. Honestly, he wished desperately to overwhelm your lips with kisses until you couldn't breathe (you can't really blame him).

As he was lost in his fantasies, he suddenly felt something descending onto his lap. And guess what? It was your head being placed on his lap.

The poor boy's brain stopped functioning as he tried to process what had just happened.

(He also felt like his heart stopped for a moment.)

"Y/n... y-you okay?" Shoto whispered softly to you, making sure only you could hear him, and his hand moved to brush a strand of hair away from your face, while a terrible blush spread across his cheeks.

The poor boy wasn't used to being affectionate :(

"Very... sleepy," was your only response as you hugged his waist and snuggled closer to his left side where warmth emanated.

Let's say he miraculously managed to control his quirk so as not to accidentally hurt you.

Meanwhile, the boy's heart swelled with emotions, and he found himself gently stroking your hair, a small smile adorning his handsome face.

And as soon as the movie ended, he carried you bridal-style and took you to your room under Momo's guidance, making sure not to wake you up at all.

On the other hand, he couldn't sleep a wink that night, but be prepared to receive the most beautiful confession in your life soon.

Bonus points: His desire to kiss you became unbearable.

𝗞𝗶𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝗮 𝗘𝗶𝗷𝗶𝗿𝘂𝗼

He was one of the biggest supporters of the idea, especially since you were the one who suggested it, so of course he would always support your opinion.

He always did, seeing you as a fun person who radiated warmth like the sun, an optimistic personality he fell for boundlessly.

You were always a source of inspiration for him with your positive energy, encouraging him and praising his perseverance, and in return, he gave you the brightest smile.

His friends somehow learned about his secret admiration for you (Mina was the reason... ahem)

and they always tried to involve you both more to bring you closer together.

This event was no different as they made sure you two were close to each other, leaving the couch for you to sit on together.

(Kaminari was included to sit next to Kirishima just to make it less suspicious.)

Now, in the middle of the movie, just like Shoto, he couldn't focus at all.

He was just captivated by the little sounds you made whenever an exciting scene came up or your eyes sparkled with interest at what was shown on the screen in front of you.

He was literally in his own world, worshiping your facial expressions and your gentle demeanor.

But at some point, he stopped paying attention to you, replacing it with discussing the details of the movie with Kaminari. Then, in a sudden moment, he felt something land on his chest... it was your head.

The boy quickly covered his mouth to suppress the scream that was about to burst from the depths of his heart.

In contrast to the two above, he had a quick response as he gently shook your shoulder.

"Y/n, y-you awake?" His voice came out as a somewhat quiet tune, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

"Sorry... feeling sleepy... just... a little nap." After that, you held onto his arm and used his muscular chest as a pillow, drifting back to sleep.

Because of your action, his quirk activated for a few seconds, and he slapped his own face out of embarrassment and happiness he felt.

Your sudden move caught the red-haired boy off guard to the point he didn't know how to react :(

"Yes, of course... it wouldn't be manly of me to move and disturb you," he muttered to himself in embarrassment, stiffening in his position before wrapping his arm around you to pull you closer to him.

But he forgot about Kaminari, who saw everything and struggled to suppress his laughter as he ran away, catching the attention of the class, only to stare at both of you in awe and admiration.

All I can say is that by tomorrow, you'll see plenty of pictures taken of you sleeping on Kirishima, and his friends endlessly teasing him about it.

Then get ready for his confession of his feelings for you.

ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ

ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ

sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ!

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki #shoto x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #fluff #fanfic #bnha #mha #one shot

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kittykattropicanna · 5 months

Note

it's 2 am and i should sleep but i just read your prison penpal!ghost now it's rotting my brain!!!! ><

reader would so try to send him gifts if they're allowed. special holidays aren't miserable for him anymore as he would be accompanied by reader's sweet little presents!!!

Sleeps for the weak baby, sleep when you’re dead ;)

Of course you're going to look after your man, he does so much for you, the least you can do is send him some money to treat himself!!! maybe a gift or two you dirty girl :3

I know I promised to upload this last night after work but I was sleepy. IM SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME

TW: edging, Si fucks himself with your dirty panties, smut, masterbation (Reader and Simon) its just fucking disgusting and dirty, but also kinda sweet <3

PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

Absolutely, holy shit. After your first phone call, you’re his, he makes that so unbelievably clear through his next letters. :)))

Telling you how much he craves you, how you’re the only thing on his mind, describing in intimate detail how his gonna touch you, kiss you, fuck you :((((

His so fucking desperate for you, to the point he actually gets enraged knowing he can’t touch you. Just the thought of you being on the other side of the wall makes his skin crawl, you’re right there, only thick cement dividing him from you :((

Its even worse knowing that he can’t do anything about it >:(

Si’s a problem solver, he prides himself on being able to weasel his way out of practically any situation without a problem, if that’s reducing his sentence down to basically nothing or getting away with his little late night phone calls with you. He always finds a way to make it work, but for the first time ever, he can’t fix this, his stuck here. No exceptions, no sweet talking to get what he wants, no amount of calculated manipulation could get him out of this situation, and it makes him go absolutely mad.

At this point he has a year left of his sentence, his so fucking close to being let back into society, so close to finally being with you :(((

Letting his emotions (and dick) cloud his judgment, driving him to think about making stupid decisions such as an attempted jail break would be absolutely the worst idea of his entire life.

Ohhhhh, but its so tempting :(

But it would just put more time between you and him, as much as he wanted you now, he knew it was only going to rip him away from you again in the long run :/

And that’s if his even successful, one night with you would mean the world to him, but it wasn't worth being thrown back in jail, only separating the two of you for longer :(

He just needed to sit tight, let the days roll on and try not to think about your soft moans through the shitty speaker of the prison phone. :(((

He absolutely asked you to be official after speaking to you for the first time. It drives him crazy knowing when guys try and hit on you at the bar, you smile brightly and tell them that you're his, his to keep.

One of the guards asked him what’s the first thing his going to do when he gets out, with a dopey smile he chuckles a little

“See ma’ missus mate” his so fucking cute, his actually so obsessed with you, so proud that you’re his ;))))

Of course the other inmates wouldn’t know, and technically he most definitely shouldn’t of told a guard, news spreads, but he couldn’t help it, it slipped out, and you know what, he was fucking proud of it :)))

You 100% would send him money and gifts, Si makes a little money, about £35 a week either cleaning, laundry duties, basic maintenance, basically anything the job program can offer him.

The only issue being when he first signed up, he made sure that all his money was payed into Price’s bank account. He didn’t want to risk using it, the whole reason he started the work program was because he wanted to try and set himself up once he got out, at least have some type of savings waiting for him on the other side. Every now and then he regrets it, but he knows its for the best :/

Learning that Si was so strict with his money that he didn’t treat himself to anything didn’t sit well with you….and its not like you’re struggling financially, you work a good job and your daddy is always willing to send money if you ever needed it!!!!

A hundred odd pounds a month isn’t going to leave any sort of dint in your bank account, so of course your going to send Si some money to treat himself!!! You’re such a sweet, sweet girl :(((, his sweet, sweet girl.

You start sending the maximum amount each month which comes out to about £150, its the least you can do!! His your boyfriend! he might be a felon, a little perverted and rough around the edges, but to you, his perfect :)))

His so grateful as well :(( treating himself to snacks :((( chocolate bars, skittles and gummy’s, buying himself a book or two, replacing his flat, stained pillow and ratted blankets, getting himself some actually nice soap and a new toothbrush, buying clothes that actually fit him!!

His muscles have grown so much since being locked up :3 there’s nothing else to do besides lift weights, work and sit around :((((

“Sweetheart, I want ya’ to know, the second I get out of here, imma treat you real nice, give ya’ everything I can, look after ya’, protect ya’”

and

“The minute I get ya’ home, its all about you, yeah? Imma lay ya’ down and eat ya’ like a starved man, overstimulate that little cunt till ya’ beggin’ me to stop, fuck ya’ so deep and hard that you’ll forget ya’ fuckin’ name, whatever ya’ want darlin’ its all yours, been lookin’ after me so well….. imma show ya’ how much I appreciate it, as ya’ can probably tell, i’m more a man of action, poetry an’t ma style baby ;)”

Definitely learns origami from other inmates, makes little paper swans and hearts for you, the paper always being a little stained from his dirty fingers, obvious crease marks showing his folded it the wrong way and had to reattempt :))))

God he knows how to treat a women :33333

But what I really want to get into are the gifts you send him…..;)

As I established in my last fics about you sending things to Si, you absolutely send him innocent gifts.

Photos, one of your favourite gold necklaces, an oversized tee that smells like your perfume…. Cute little personal things so he can have a piece of you, nothing crazy :3

I feel like you were reading a spicy romance book. It mentioned the main character stealing his lovers used panties out of her dirty laundry basket, very quickly and idea clicked in your brain :((((

You wanted it to be a surprise for him :(((( you didn’t mention it to him in your letters, only telling him your working on a little something that’s crafted just for him ;))

Waking up in the morning you make sure to fuck yourself with your fingers :((

Covering your panties with your juices, making sure their absolutely soaked in your cum :((

Rubbing your thighs together while you’re at work, soaking through your panties with your arousal :((( thinking about Si eating your pussy just like he promised while in important meetings, loosing focus…. your boss pulling you aside and asking if you’re okay :((

Scrambling to find an answer to explain your distracted behaviour and flushed cheeks >:(

He ends up sending you home because you’re distracting everyone with your aloofness :(( putting the rest of your team behind because you're a selfish girl with a dirty mind >:( can’t even focus in your workplace because Si’s dirty words have taken over every aspect of your thoughts >:(

At the end of the day your panties are ruined with your slick, soaked all the way through and smelling of your orgasm just like you planned ;))

And when Si received your thong obviously used??? :000000 he let out a low grunt....

Just the idea that you did this for him, fully confirming in his mind that you wanted him, craved him just as much as he craved you made something animalistic set off in his mind….

Because he received your package in the middle of the day, he couldn’t hide and tend to himself like normal >:((((((

He needed you now, he needed to fuck his cock NOW, not wait till his cell mates were asleep, his heavy balls ached and he knew if he didn’t relieve himself soon, his blue balls would become unbearable >:(((( aching and hurting with each step, uncomfortable and frustrated :(

Purposely being a dick and coursing havoc with his inmates so he can be locked up for his disruptive and disrespectful behaviour ;)))))

A shit eating grin when his in handcuffs being walked to his cell, knowing your panties are tucked into his boxers ;))))) his won yet again ;)

Like I’ve said before, and I’ll say it again, he ALWAYS gets what he wants :)))

The second his cell locks his ripping his hard, leaky cock out and wrapping your used panties around himself :((((

Pumping his fat dick, the friction of the fabric making it that much more satisfying :((((

Closing his eyes and imagining you walking around all day, turned on and flustered for him >:((((( the idea of you restricting yourself from fucking other men because you're his, knowing all you want is to be filled with dick, have the feeling of a real cock fucking you, not your cold, rubber dildo >:(

His precum mixing with your juices only turns him on more, knowing that this is the closest he’ll get to fucking your cunt for now :((

As his big hands slowly pump his dick, wanting to savour the moment, he lets out animalistic grunts, slowly speeding up and then slowing his pace, he edges himself almost whimpering when he refrains from his release yet again :(((

Something about holding back satisfies him, his training himself for you, getting ready for when he fucks you for the first time, wanting to hold out long enough that he can rip orgasm after orgasm out of you, forming a white rim of your cum around the base of his cock :(((

Grunted whispers of your name falling from his lips as he tries to hold back yet again, legs twitching and face getting hot as uncontrollable ropes of cum finally release from his vainy cock :(((

His never cum that much in his life, your panties damp with his semen, dick so sensitive that even the feeling of the fabric from his boxes makes him flinch >:(((

You’re such a good girl, always knowing how to please him, feels like you know him inside and out already ;)

You just wait until he gets his hands on you sweet girl ;)))

Y'all are so fucking obsessed with each other I CAN'T

PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

Cat divider sourced by @positively-mine from Pinterest - Pink line divider by @eloquentreverie - MDNI divider by @cafekitsune

Basic blog housekeeping - fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors

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honeyedmiller · 7 months

Text

The Gift | Javier Peña

pairing: husband!javi x wife!reader

warnings: marriage, mentions of pregnancy (reader is pregnant!!!), reader described to be shorter than javi, mentions of the holidays (specifically christmas), mentions of starting a family, tooth-rotting sickeningly sweet fluff, brief mentions of a deceased family member, tiny uses of spanish with translations at the very end, no use of y/n. if any content warnings may not be suitable for you to consume, please do not read forward. 18+, minors dni.

word count: 3.4k

synopsis: you and javi do your yearly gift exchange with each other. your gift to him just so happens to be life-changing.

this is *technically* a part two to when you wish on a shooting star, but it can be read as a stand alone.

tysm to my bby @ilovepedro for beta reading this for me. you’re amazing ily ♥️

divider by @ dvluc

The bright streams of golden sunlight shining into your bedroom is what woke you up for the second time that morning. You let the warmth of the rays soak into your skin, knowing it was a chilly December day outside of the four walls of your shared home.

The first thing that woke you up was your loving husband kissing you on your forehead and telling you he loved you before he went to work that morning. You’d been feeling extra sleepy lately, so he didn’t want to disturb you by fully waking you up.

Your body just felt so exhausted, and you woke up with short waves of nausea in the recent mornings. You just painted it as stress from your own job, not thinking much of it.

You groaned as you stretched, dreading getting out of your warm bed where the scent of your beloved husband engulfed the entirety of your body. You missed his presence already, wishing the warmth of his chest was pressed against yours as he peppered soft kisses all around your face. You found your mind swirling with longing for him, but you couldn’t get too distracted.

You decided it was time to get up and straighten up the house since you had the day off. Next week was Christmas, and you and Javi held your annual Christmas party at your house every year, so you wanted to make sure the house was pristine for the guests you were to have over.

After you brushed your teeth and washed your face, you made the bed and trudged downstairs, yawning as you reached the kitchen. Caffeine sounded heavenly right now, considering Javi kept you up most of the night.

You made a fresh pot of coffee to brew, leaning against the kitchen island counter as your eyes roamed your kitchen. Your eyes landed on the pastel yellow sticky note stuck to your fridge, immediately recognizing Javi’s handwriting. You took the sticky note off of the fridge, eyes scanning over what he scribbled.

Good morning, mi amor. Don’t forget we have our annual gift exchange tonight. Can’t wait to give you your gift, bebita. I also left you some chorizo and eggs in the fridge for you. Te amo para siempre.

-J

You grinned down at the endearing note and opened the fridge, and as promised, there was a small container with one of your favorite, simple breakfasts. You took the container out of the fridge and a pan from the cabinet, scooping the contents out of the container and onto the pan with a wooden spoon, turning on the flame to the stove to heat the food up. It looked mouth wateringly delicious at first, but when the smell of the food invaded the kitchen, you suddenly felt so nauseous.

It was odd, because you usually loved the smell of the meal. You turned off the heat and abandoned the kitchen altogether after putting the food and coffee away, shaking your head as you made your way back upstairs. You sighed as you sat down on the bed, grimacing as the nausea slowly dissipated.

Maybe breakfast wasn’t the best idea today. You got up again to officially get ready for the day, needing to stop at the store to get some items for your Christmas party before you came back home to tidy up. Luckily you and Javi kept your house neat, so cleaning wasn’t going to be a super tedious task.

You made a list of things you needed at the store and made the short drive over, checking off all of the things on your list. You passed the feminine products section, halting when you realized you needed to pick up some more pads. You spotted the pregnancy tests right next to the pads, and your mind reeled for a second.

When was the last time you got your period?

You’d been so wrapped up in life recently and busy with work and preparations for the Christmas party that you hadn’t even realized your period never came this month. Again, you could’ve written it off as stress, but a tiny pit in your stomach was telling you to get a pregnancy test. You and Javi had been trying for a baby after you made an agreement at your little getaway trip for your third wedding anniversary in Lake Arrowhead.

Now that you were both back in Laredo, reality broke the bubble of pure bliss you two were wrapped in. It was back to work, back to responsibilities, back to the mundane daily life—one that you absolutely adored getting to live with Javi. Nonetheless, time slipped away from you and you’d completely missed the fact that your period was late by nearly a whole month.

You grabbed three pregnancy tests just to be extra sure of whatever outcome you’d receive. Your mind swirled with thoughts of the possibility that you were carrying your first child, but you didn’t allow yourself to delve too deep into those thoughts just yet. As you made your way to the checkout stand, you happened to pass the baby clothing section, spotting a pastel yellow newborn onesie that said “abuelo’s amorcito” in white lettering.

You smiled and instantly thought of Chucho and how happy he’d be hearing the news that he was to expect his first grandbaby. You grabbed the onesie, possibly getting a little too ahead of yourself, but you’d save it and give it to him when the time came.

Your heart fluttered as you made your way home after checking out all of your items, realizing that it was already two in the afternoon. Javi got home around four, so you had to hunker down when you got home to clean. You finished cleaning the backhouse you and Javi lived in in record time, moving to the living room of the main house to tidy up a bit. You still had about thirty more minutes to spare, so you took your tests to the bathroom with you. Once you were finished, you laid the tests down on the counter and washed your hands, sitting at the edge of the tub in anticipation.

The five minutes you had to wait for the results to show up had to be some of the longest minutes of your life, face buried in your hands as your knee bounced up and down. Your breath was shaky as nerves took over you, the five minutes nearing an end. You stood up from the edge of the tub and made your way to the double vanity, squeezing your eyes shut while inhaling a deep breath.

Now or never.

Your eyes shot open, only to be met with six pink lines meeting your gaze. Every single test was positive. You exhaled a shaky breath, a small sob bubbling within your throat as your hand covered your mouth.

You couldn’t wait to tell Javi.

You’d originally gotten him a nice watch that he had his eye on for a couple of months for the gift exchange knowing he’d never splurge on himself like that. He insisted that he splurged on you, though, to which you always argued ‘if you can do it, I can do it for you, too.’

You decided to save the watch for Christmas though, seeing as giving him a gift like this was far more heartwarming. Your eyes teared up at the thought of how great of a father Javi would be. You wrapped one pregnancy test delicately into a small box, wrapping paper covered in snowmen adorning the box. You wrapped the onesie for Chucho next, carefully writing on both boxes who the gifts were for.

You hid the other two tests, making your way downstairs with the boxes in your hands. You set them both under the Christmas tree, wiping away a stray tear that had rolled down your cheek.

“Mi amor, I’m home!” You heard Javi call out from the front door of your home, and you couldn’t help the smile that instantly appeared upon hearing his voice.

You walked to the entryway of your home, seeing your husband set down his work bag onto the floor.

“Well if it isn’t my handsome husband.” You say as you approach him, stopping in front of him to gaze up into his beautiful brown eyes. He instinctively wrapped his hand around your waist, pulling you into him so you were flush against his body. He smiles down at you, cupping your cheek.

“If it isn’t my beautiful wife.” He counters back. Your hands travel up to his broad chest, running over the lapels of his beige suit he was wearing.

“I missed you, mi amor.” You coo softly, one hand cupping the nape of his neck.

“Yeah? I missed you too, baby.” His smile never wavers from his face as your free hand wraps around the dark plaid tie he wore, gently tugging on it to make him bend down. Your lips easily met his in one swift movement, and he groaned softly into the kiss. His hands slid down to your ass, grabbing it playfully before lightly tapping it and pulling apart from you.

“Let me change out of my work clothes and then we can do the exchange, cariño. Papá made pozole for tonight.”

“Sounds delicious. Meet you on the couch.” You huff a laugh, giving him a quick kiss before he makes his way upstairs to change. You make your way over to the couch, grabbing the smaller present that you’d tucked under the tree earlier along the way. You plopped down, nerves overtaking your body. You weren’t sure what his initial reaction would be, albeit you were sure it would presumably be a positive one.

You heard his heavy steps descending the stairs, and his face lit up when he saw you sitting on the couch. He carried a small box in his hands, a boyish grin on his face as he made his way to the couch to plop himself down next to you.

“You wanna go first, or should I?” He asks, hand resting on your thigh. The gift exchange you two did was a tradition you both started for yourselves the first Christmas you were together. You’d been doing it ever since, small heartfelt gifts to be exchanged between you both. Javi called it “the pregame to Christmas.”

“You go first, amor.” You grin, heart leaping in your throat as you try to control your breathing and emotions overall.

“Here you are, corazón. I hope you like it.” He hands you the small box and you grin at him, carefully tearing the wrapping. You uncover the contents in the box, revealing a silver charm bracelet with a charm already on it. It was a small inscription saying ‘siempre.’ Tears welled in your eyes as you took it out of the box, the shininess of the silver glinting from the glow of the Christmas tree lights nearby.

“Javi, mi amor. It’s beautiful.” You cry, tears cascading down your cheeks.

“You think so cariño?” His voice is soft, hands reaching out to wipe the tears from your face. You nod with a smile, eyes glossy and brows furrowed.

“It’s perfect. Thank you so much.” You unclasp the bracelet and hold it out to him so he can put it on your wrist. He easily clasps it, the cold metal pressing against your skin. He lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly.

“Your turn, baby.” Javi encouraged, and you cried even more as you shakily handed him your gift. You held your breath as he tore open the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the test. His movements completely halted as his eyes scanned over the contents in the box.

His eyes snapped up to yours, glossy with tears threatening to spill over. You’d only ever seen Javi cry less than a handful of times since you two have been together, so seeing him so emotional made you sob.

“Is this real?” He whispers, eyes moving back down to the test.

You nod your head, both of your hands gently grabbing the sides of his beautiful face.

“One hundred percent real, mi amor. We’re gonna have a baby.” You try your best to contain your sobs, but it’s useless at this point when your own husband is crying with you. He leans over to you, laying you down on the couch as he wraps his arms around your frame and just holds you. He nestles his face into the crook of your neck, salty tears skimming the warmth of your skin.

Your fingers card through his dark, thick locks, holding him close as you kiss his head repeatedly, mumbling how much you love him and can’t wait to have his baby.

Javi never thought he’d have this life. He never thought he’d be able to meet a nice woman, date, settle down, fall in love, get married; let alone start a family.

He was a very different man when he’d left Colombia and came back to the states after taking down Escobar and the Cali cartel, so closed off and unwilling to picture or allow this kind of life for himself. The kind of life he deserves—working a good paying job at the Laredo Sheriff’s Office, married to the most gorgeous woman he’s ever laid his eyes on, reunited with his dad, content and fucking happy.

He never thought he’d see the day, and yet here you were, laying underneath him and allowing him to cry into your neck about you being able to give him the best thing he could’ve ever asked for, which was a family of his own.

After both of your sobs subsided and tears melted into a salty stiffness on your cheeks, he kissed your neck softly and hovered his face above yours. Your hands cupped his cheeks gently, pulling him down for a long, comforting kiss that said I love you I love you I love you a million times over.

“We’re having a baby.” He breathed, a genuine smile that made his crow’s feet prominent adorning his face. You nod your head, leaning up to kiss the tip of his nose.

“We’re having a baby, Javi,” You laugh as he starts to attack your face with an array of kisses, a deep chuckle rumbling in his throat. “I got something for Chucho too to tell him the big news.” You say against his lips, and he sits back up while gently tugging you up with him.

“Yeah? I’m sure he’ll love whatever it is.” Javi’s heart warmed at the thought of you getting his father a gift as well to tell him that he was going to be a grandpa.

You stand up from the couch and hold your hands out to Javi, making a grabbing motion to coax him to grab your hands. He does so without hesitation and you pull him up from the couch, hands landing on his chest afterwards.

You beam up at him, a glint of pure happiness in your eyes as you let your gaze roam over his features. You still don’t know how you got this lucky, thanking the universe every day that an unlikely pair as yourselves met at an H-E-B of all places.

“Te amo con todo mi corazón,” Javi wrapped his arms around your frame, pulling you into him as he hugged you. “Gracias por darme la vida que siempre quise.”

Tears sprang to your eyes once more at his endearing words. “I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, Javier Peña. I promise you that.” You kiss him one more time before breaking away, collecting Chucho’s gift from under the tree before you both make your way to the main house.

The chilly December air nipped at your skin, so you nuzzled closer into Javi’s side as you both walked down the stone path to the main house. For a second, you were worried that the smell of pozole was going to make you nauseous just as the chorizo and eggs did earlier, but you found it to be the complete opposite this time. You were practically salivating, ready to devour the delicious meal your father in law set out to make you three.

You and Javier stepped into the kitchen, greeted by Chucho stirring the pot of pozole a few times before he saw you both.

“Ah, mija! Thank you for cleaning the living room today. Haven’t been able to get around to it myself, so I appreciate it.” Chucho grins.

“It’s not a problem, Chucho. Thank you for making us dinner. It smells delicious.” You say, setting the present down on the dining room table.

“Not a problem, querida.”

Javi prompts you and Chucho to sit down at the table as he takes over, grabbing bowls for the three of you. He serves you both before coming behind you to gently grab your shoulders, giving them a squeeze. You grin up at him and clear your throat, catching Chucho’s attention.

“This is for you, suegro. I hope you like it.” You hand him the gift, and he looks bewildered as he takes it from you and starts to unwrap it.

“You didn’t need to get me anything, mija–” His words are cut short as he opens the box, seeing the tiny onesie in it.

“Surprise, Pop.” Javi says, and Chucho looks between his son and you in disbelief.

“You’re having a baby?” His voice is full of shock, and you can’t help but reach across the table and squeeze one of his hands.

“You’re gonna be an abuelo, suegro.”

Chucho looked down at the onesie in his hands with tears pricking his eyes. You never thought you’d see the day that Chucho Peña got teary-eyed.

“Tu mamá would’ve loved to see the day her baby boy was having a child of his own. One with a sweet, wonderful woman such as yourself, mija.” Chucho looked between you both with a bittersweet smile on his face.

“I know, Pop. She’s looking down on us all, and I know she can’t wait to see what a wonderful abuelo you’ll be.” Javier moved to his father, giving him a comforting pat on his back.

“Thank you both for blessing me with the opportunity of becoming a grandfather. I know you two will be the best parents. I love you both so very much.” Chucho put the onesie back in the box, grabbing your hand once more while shaking it.

“We love you, abuelo Chucho.”

Dinner was purely full of baby discussion after that, like name ideas you already had, what you think the gender will be, how you’ll want to decorate the nursery, when you’ll schedule a doctor’s appointment, and all things alike. You couldn’t lie, you absolutely adored every minute of it seeing the love of your life and a man who was such a prominent father figure in your life discussing even the most minute details about your child who you already know was so extremely loved.

That night, you and Javi went to bed with smiles that you couldn’t seem to wipe off your faces. He kissed you and pushed up his oversized t-shirt you were wearing to bed, resting his head gently onto your stomach as he tenderly cooed into your soft flesh.

“Hey there. It’s your papá. I can’t wait to meet you, pequeño. Your mommy and I love you so much already.” You grinned down at Javi, raking your fingers through his hair as he continued to babble on to your unborn child. You’d nearly fallen asleep at the soft timbre of Javi’s voice reverberating the four walls of your bedroom. Javi pulled down his t-shirt on you and kissed your forehead tenderly, wrapping you in his arms.

“I love you, my beautiful wife. Thank you for choosing me and loving me the way you do. I can’t wait to become a father to our child.” Javi’s voice was raspy as it dwindled to a near-whisper, and when he got no response from you, he looked down to see you’d completely fallen asleep.

You looked so peaceful. Javi smiled down at you as he softly kissed your forehead one more time before laying his head next to you, thanking the universe and all the shooting stars in the sky that you gave him the gift of a lifetime.

translations:

te amo para siempre — i love you forever

te amo con todo mi corazón — i love you with all my heart

gracias por darme la vida que siempre quise — thank you for giving me the life i always wanted

suegro — father in law

pequeño — little one

tags: @party-hearses ; @tinygarbage ; @nostalxgic ; @bastardmandennis ; @catchallfangirl ; @lizzie-cakes

please lmk if you’d like to be added / removed from the tag list. 🖤

#javier pena imagine #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fluff #husband!javier #wife!reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña #javier pena x you #javier pena narcos #javier pena one shot #javier pena #narcos fanfiction #javi p #narcos #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

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dr3c0mix · 1 year

Note

Zombie Horde x AMAB transfem/gn reader who is working to find a cure for the zombie epidemic?

Like I was imagining reader works in a lab that is then overrun, and reader attempts to flee the horde or secretly continue their experiments when they aren’t looking.

Eventually maybe reader gets used to it and decides to take advantage of the “willing” and (usually) non-violent test subjects.

Love ur work btw <3

i havent given you guys your dose of zombie bitches lately so here ya go <3 this can be also be read as gn maybe

Zombie Horde x MtF!Reader Who's Looking for a Cure

CW: i will make you sob at the end istg, a bit of ewuh body stuff

💀 You've been trying to find a cure ever since the first wave of the epidemic, but the virus spread so quickly that you had to halt your research and flee the city, getting in your car after loading all your equipment and supplies in the trunk and driving off.

💀 Now, after just a few months, you were living in a symbiotic relationship with the very things you swore to destroy. At that point, you've forgotten all about the cure, thinking that there was no more hope on this earth for rehabilitation.

💀 But while lying down in your zombie husband pile at night, the idea sparked in your brain yet again, making you sit up, Ribs' head falling from your shoulder, waking him up.

💀 "S-sorry! So sorry Hun! Uhm..I gotta get something!" You pat Ribs' head before stumbling out of your bed, careful not to trip over the others. Bo blinks a bit before getting up and following you.

💀 You hear a low purr behind you as you were putting on your jacket and backpack and see Bo with a pleading, sleepy face. please come back..it's cold... you could imagine him saying. You chuckle and give him a kiss on the nose. "I'll be back, I promise!" and you run off outside to the parking lot.

💀 You retrieve your supplies from your old car, it's dusty and a bit dirty but the papers you've written were still readable.

💀 You carry the box of stuff back with you, Screw and Soda waiting for you and cocking their heads at the sight of their little mate carrying a box full of tubes and paper.

💀 The horde curiously watches you search through the papers, sometimes writing things down. You mumble soft words they didn't understand whilst looking over two or more papers.

💀 Eventually, you circle a string of letters and numbers and you hold your head in your hands with wide eyes, Screw crawls up to you cooing and you turn to him with the biggest smile on your face.

💀 "I think I got it.."

💀 He cocks his head with a chirp.

💀 "I have the cure..."

💀 You would've never considered it, but with your new discovery of visible consciousness in infected subjects, brain recovery and even bodily recovery can be possible, you just had to find a solution that can increase the body's constructive systems.

💀 You would forge for materials far beyond where you usually searched and would meet up with other survivors to exchange goods in order to conduct your research.

💀 Of course, your husbands were willing to help you, once you told them about your plan, they were so happy! Flesh like yours? Count us in! Ribs especially wants to help; he very much wants his torso back...

💀 The first tests weren't very fruitful but gave interesting results, one experiment with Bo included an injection to his arm, which made his heart beat for a few seconds before slowing and stopping like it was before.

💀 You would also see signs of growth, both Screw and Soda's wounds would appear to be healing themselves.

💀 After a few months of experimentation, you were starting to give up, the boys' wounds and lost body parts being unable to grow back.

💀 It was alright for you though, you never really expected to find the cure so easily, and you weren't sure if it could even work on other zombies.

💀 At least the boys looked a bit better than before though, their hair could grow like a human's and their limps were gone, their joints rejuvenated and no longer rigid, allowing them to move like a normal human and not a living corpse.

💀 You thought that was all that you got from your experiments when..

💀 "(Y-Y/N)?"

💀 That...voice? It sounds familiar somehow...

💀 "Babygirl? Can you hear me?" the voice says again, it was gruff with a bit of a southern accent.

💀 "That's not her name!" Another voice, more higher pitched that the first.

💀 "It's a nickname Ribs!" One quietly says.

💀 Your neck almost snaps at the speed you turned back.

💀 "Uhm..hey there babes.." Bo says awkwardly.

💀 Looks like their vocal chords grew back too...

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thus-spoke-lo · 10 months

Text

Midnight Apology // Trafalgar Law x afab!reader // NSFW/18+

cw: afab!reader [no pronouns used to address reader]; somnophilia [prior consent given]; vaginal fingering; masturbation [character] wc: 2k Read on AO3

Law’s breath hitches in his throat when he opens the door to his room—later than he promised you, far later than he’d intended—and sees you sprawled out across his bed, your nude form softly lit by the dim lamplight, soft snores and sighs leaving your lips. He shuts the door behind him and approaches you carefully, as if in some sort of reverence, stepping over your clothes that were strewn over his floor, picking up your discarded book and setting it on his desk. He had hoped that you were still awake, still making your way through your novel, waiting for him to join you. At least if you were awake, he could ask for forgiveness for being so late, for getting caught up in papers and dog-eared textbooks that needed his attention almost as much as you did. At least if you were awake, he could temper his guilt as he plied you with kisses and gentle caresses, feeling your icy rejection—the kind that was always performative, never sincere—begin to melt under the touch of his skilled hands. He’d whisper honeyed apologies into your ear as he pinned you to the mattress, and he’d fuck you with a deliberate and unhurried pace, just like you liked, until you could feel just how sorry he was with every languid stroke.

But not tonight.

Tonight, you had waited as long as you could stand, and sleep had taken you before Law ever could. He stands beside the bed and looks down at you, his eyes drifting over your body as a heat builds at the base of his spine; it doesn’t matter to him how many times he’s seen you like this, laid bare and exposed for him in the low light—every time feels new, every glimpse of your body like a privilege that only he has been granted. His gaze is drawn to the way your lips are parted just slightly, your jaw slack as you exhale. He watches the rise and fall of your chest, notes how perfectly the light from the lantern casts shadows across your breasts, feels that heat growing as he notices the way your nipples have hardened from the slight chill in the room.

Law carefully pulls his desk chair over to the side of the bed and sits down, dragging his teeth across his lower lip as his gaze is pulled towards the apex of your thighs and the soft, downy mound that awaits him. Your one leg is bent and lolled to one side, and he suppresses a groan as he sees the way your exposed pussy lips glisten with wetness in the dim light; he wonders what you’ve been dreaming of, if those soft sighs that he keeps hearing are ones of pleasure as he thrusts into you in your mind’s eye.

“Fuck, you look so nice like this,” he mumbles under his breath, his cock starting to strain against his jeans as he cranes his neck to see your pretty cunt fully, and watches as a bead of your slick drips down onto the sheets. He licks his lips instinctively, wishing he could taste you, bury his face between your plush thighs and devour you until you’re writhing and bucking your hips against his face, begging to cum on his tongue. “Want you so bad, sweetheart.”

He knows you won’t mind if he helps himself to you—you’d given him permission, told him you loved the idea of him claiming you as you slept, especially when you simply couldn’t force yourself to keep his same erratic schedule. But to Law, something felt perverted and deeply selfish about enjoying you while you slept; instead, he’d wake you in the middle of the night, nuzzling against your neck and breathing in your scent, his hands wrapped around your waist, cock already throbbing and desperate, and beg you to let him have you. You’d always say yes, smile at him with sleepy eyes and slow movements, part your thighs while you were still sleep-drunk, wrap your arms around his shoulders and moan his name while he buried himself inside you like you were all he needed in life, like the answer to every question was to be found in your warmth.

Law’s hand rests softly on your thigh, and he waits for a reaction from you, yet there is none; he inhales deeply and considers how to apologize to you properly for his late arrival. With a shaking outbreath, his slides his hand between your legs and drags his middle finger up your slit, gathering your slick and bringing it to his lips, tasting the sweetness that he’s longing for, choking down a groan as he throbs in his jeans at the very flavor of you. He lowers his hand down again, this time parting your lips to press his middle and ring finger at your entrance, feel you pulse against him as your hips shift slightly on the mattress. He stills himself and waits for you to settle, quieting his own breaths so he can more closely monitor yours, listening for signs of stirring, of the possibility you may discover him using his hand to show just how sorry he is for making you wait so long for him.

He slides his fingers inside you—gradually, carefully, like he’ll break you if he moves with urgency—and feels you clench around him almost immediately, a slow rhythm around him, one that tells him you’re already needy and wanting, even in slumber. He languidly pumps his fingers in and out as your walls flutter, and his eyes constantly scan your body, watching the way your chest rises and falls a little faster, how waves of goosebumps appear and disappear on your skin, how your fingers twitch at your sides. Law reaches up with his free hand and touches your breast, feels the skin prickle at the feather-light graze, watches your nipple harden. His thumb runs over the firm bud, and it elicits a soft moan from you, making him plunge his fingers in your cunt a little deeper. It’s tempting to do more—to satisfy his salivating mouth and his heated need, to take your nipple between his lips, lavish it with his tongue just to see how you squirm—but more than anything, he wants to give you the pleasure you seem be chasing, even as you sleep.

He crooks his fingers up as he thrusts, feeling for that spot that makes your back arch and his name spill from your lips when you’re awake; the way your thighs start to tense and your calves flex tells him he’s found it. Law hopes you accept his apology for leaving you alone so long as his thumb presses down on your clit, making firm circles while he shallowly thrusts into your drenched cunt, mesmerized by the way your body is always eager to show how close you are to that final moment of release. His free hand makes its way to the front of his jeans, and he hisses through his teeth as he palms himself, his muscles flexing as he lazily grinds against his hand, unconsciously matching the rhythm of his thrusts inside your warmth.

Your eyes move rapidly under your closed eyelids, and little gasp and moans start to spill out of you, enough to make Law clench his jaw, struggling to hold in a groan at how perfect you look right now—bare and vulnerable, all his for the taking, restless and heated and just on the edge of pleasure. It’s not long before he feels it start to take hold of you—your thighs subtly quaking, chest heaving as your breaths grow more rapid, fingers twitching against the sheets.

“That’s it sweetheart, cum for me,” he whispers through shaking breaths. His jaw hangs open as he finally feels you clench down on his fingers, and a low whine escapes your pouting lips as you reach your peak, your cunt softly spasming around him again and again.

Law gently slows his motions and pulls his fingers out carefully, a shivering breath leaving his lungs as he sees the way his hand glistens with your fluids in the low light, how a clear, sticky strand still connects the tip of his middle finger to your pulsing cunt, like your body is unwilling to let him go. You’re so soft and pliable now, he thinks as he greedily licks your juices from his fingers, coating his tongue in your taste—he knows your drenched cunt would take him in so well, that just a few strokes inside your still-pulsing warmth would be enough to drive him to his own orgasm easily. But he knows he’d struggle to maintain his composure, to keep his thrusts slow and measured enough that you wouldn’t wake, and now that he’s had the thrill of seeing the way you react to him as you lay there, stripped and defenseless, he doesn’t dare wake you and ruin his fun.

But Law needs you—he’s aching and throbbing, and knows that his boxers must be soaked with precum by now. So he stands from his chair and hovers over you, quietly unzips his jeans, pulling them and his boxers down his lean hips just enough to free his hardened cock. He sighs as he runs his hand over his length, teases the reddened, swollen head with his thumb, feels himself leaking even more as he thinks about the way you tensed around his hand, the way you looked so blissful as pleasure took hold of you. He grips himself and squeezes, watches himself pulse—always all for you, only for you—as a thin strand of precum drips down onto your thigh. His lower body trembles at the sight, and he strokes himself with a heated urgency—he needs to cum for you right now, he needs to show you just how sorry he is for leaving you all alone tonight and putting his needs above yours, needs to prove how much he loves you and how even as you sleep, his desire for you knows no rest.

Law clenches his eyes shut and repeats your name under his breath as his thighs tense, his hips shuddering in a sudden spasm, coating your stomach and thighs with long, thick ropes of his spend. He opens his eyes and almost moans as he sees the mess he’s made of you, your form covered in his midnight apology; he bites his lower lip and milks the last drops from his pulsing cock, watching them splatter across your skin. He pulls his pants back up and sits down in his chair with a quiet huff, his hands still shaking, core still tense; he drags his index finger through a streak of cum that landed on your thigh, spreading it over your warm skin, watching you through half-lidded eyes as you shift a little at his touch.

He wants to wake you so badly—wants to crawl into bed with you, bury his face in your neck and nip at your skin until you gaze at him with sleepy eyes, mumbling a “missed you, baby” as you drowsily return his affections and let him wrap his limbs around you until you practically disappear into his love. But more than that, Law wants to revel in the perversion that he’s finally allowed himself to experience, to wait there in the dark of his room, his eyes never leaving you, until you wake on your own. He wants—no needs—to see how you gaze at him, sweet and sleep-drunk, perplexed on why your skin is tacky and why you’re so slick between your thighs, your pussy aching and needing to be filled again.

Only then, when you look up at him through the fall of your lashes, shyly asking him what happened even though you already know the answer—only then will he consider himself forgiven.

#lo writes #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #law x y/n #law x you #law smut #one piece smut #tw.somnophilia

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ellssbellss · 1 year

Note

I may or may not have been awake for about 48 house, so I wanted to ask a request before I fall asleep.

The hosts when their SO was up for 2 days straight doing work and starts to slip when get to the host club and acting a little bit too much like the Kyoya.

been thinking about this more than my actual story lately, and i have terrible writer's block, so hopefully this will help! {thank you, anon for the idea!}

The Host Club and their Sleepy, Cranky S.O. {Ohshc X Gender Neutral!Reader}

.oOo.

"mon amour? you need to wake up, darling." tamaki's voice whispers gently in your ear.

the darkness that had surrounded you minutes ago suddenly vanishes as you open your eyes, your head swiftly lifting off of the hard surface that you had rested your eyes upon just a few minutes ago.

it had been just a few minutes, right?

coming out of your tired daze, you feel a warm hand under your chin, and your eyes are turned to meet the concerned, violet gaze of your boyfriend. he is positioned above you, one soft hand resting the club's table in front of you and the other on your face, trailing gently from the point of your chin to the roundness of your cheekbones as his thumb runs gently over the skin there.

"my love, do you know what time it is?" his voice was like butter as dips his head a little deeper, worry creasing his perfect face as he watches you lean into his touch almost automatically.

"mmph..." through his stress about your exhausted state, he giggles slightly as you sigh and shrug, your eyelids dropping more with each second. "i don't know, love."

"it's nine, (y/n)."

"what?" any haze that had chained your brain was broken as you shot out of his gentle hold.

straightening your back, you peer towards the large windows that created a barrier between the club room and the outside world, seeing an endless night erasing any of the natural light you had experienced when you walked in here after class.

"it's nine o'clock?" panicked, the chair screeches across pristine tile as you grab at the things scattered across the table. laptop, charging cords, notebooks and pencils all make their way into your grasp as you hurriedly shove them into your bag. "why didn't you wake me up sooner?"

tamaki had watched the stress bunch up in your shoulders the minute you broke away from his grasp. he watches it wind into your muscles and face as you close up your pack and swing it around one arm, hastily pushing the chair in.

"you look like you needed your rest." he says softly, taken aback by your harsh tone. "i talked to my father to let us stay here a little while longer, since i know you have been working really hard on that project you have, and i thought-"

"exactly!" without raising your voice, he feels the sharp frustration rolling off the tip of your tongue, and it pierces something tender as you whip around to face him. "i have been working so hard not to get behind on my schedule, and now that's all out window. why didn't you wake me up like I asked?"

yellow eyebrows raise as you bite back at him, and he is getting whiplash from the sudden venom in your voice. "i tried, (y/n), but you didn't wake up!" his hands move in an pleading gesture. "you shoved my hand off when i tried to shake you and faced the other way when i kissed your cheek. the end of the world couldn't wake you."

your lips purse as your eyes squint and roll, and you stomp towards the door. stuttering, your golden retriever boyfriend follows behind as you nearly rip the door off it's hinges in your haste.

his words are rushed as he rushes to follow you out of the club room as you make your way down the long, empty staircase. "truly, you're not as behind as you might think, angel, not with all the work you've been doing?"

"you would think, huh?" another frustrated sigh escapes you, but it's more tuned towards yourself than anything. you push through the grand entrance of the school.

tamaki chases you out into the moonlight. his tall form stops in the doorframe though, when he sees the way the pale light drapes over your figure.

your usual bright stance sags in the night, and the hand he loves to hold rakes harshly through your perfect locks before it disappears to run down your face.

"(y/n), mon amour, what's wrong?" you hear his dress shoes click against the pavement. long arms wrap around your waist from behind, and a soft cheek nuzzles against the side of your face. tamaki tightens his hold, encouraging you to melt into his form. "talk to me."

after nothing more than a second, you do, because how could you not?

your head falls back as your spine molds into the bends and divots of tamaki's long torso, and a deep, shuddering sigh ripples out of you.

"i'm sorry, my love." tamaki feels your apology vibrate against his chest. "i just-, i've been extra stressed lately."

"about your project?"

"yes."

"why, angel?"

your neck twists, and you meet your prince's gaze in the complexity of his embrace, and tamaki sees the deep circles under your eyes. he notes how they had darkened since the last time he noticed them.

"i just have a lot riding on my grade for this course. my mother is counting on me for the future of her company, and if this project doesn't go well, then..."

"stop it." the comforting hug he had wrapped you in briefly vanishes as his touch pulls against your uniform. his fingers travel up your waist and forearms, gently grasping your shoulders as he spins you around to face him. "stop thinking like that."

when you're looking at him, his hands run up the rest of your body to your face, holding your jawline in his touch. "you've been working and worrying for two days, mon amour. you haven't been taking care of yourself, and there is nothing more important than your wellbeing."

his tone is different from his gallivanting, and incredibly endearing, dramatics. it's gracefully intense, like when he helped a struggling doctor find his way to his estranged daughter. the way he looks at you is also fierce, love and determination swimming in his purple irises.

"tamaki..."

"why haven't you been taking care of yourself?"

"i haven't had the time!" your voice tries weakly to defend yourself, but tamaki raises another eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "there isn't enough time in the day for me to work as hard as i have been and get a full night's rest."

"then why haven't you come to me about it?"

"i...i don't know." defeated, there is a drop in your gaze as you give up trying to defend yourself. "i thought i could do it on my own."

"you don't have to do anything on your own. not when you're with me." tamaki bends slightly to get into your line of sight. "you know you can talk to me, (y/n); that i'm here to give you anything and everything you need."

your (e/c) eyes whip back up to him. "i know that, love, but i-"

"no buts. you come to me if you need me. that's how it has always been for us."

the moonlight reflects off the small amount of wetness in your eyes, and tamaki's serious expression crumples. all of your stress and exhaustion breathes out of your body at his words. he smiles softly as you bury your face in his chest, placing his hand on your hair and another at your back, kissing the side of your head.

"i need you." your voice sings through the night, into the air as it's carried into the rose garden, red petals fully in bloom.

.oOo.

kyoya has seen this look before.

the tension of your lips as they writhe over your teeth. the slam of your footsteps as you make your way over to your usual seat across from him. especially the small smile you give to whomever greets you.

the smile that doesn't reach your eyes. the smile that falls immediately after you give some random excuse to dismiss yourself from the conversation, and you let it fall because you think no one is looking.

but kyoya was watching.

"good morning, (y/n)." he greets over his laptop as you click open your own, and you meet his gaze briefly before turning your attention back to your computer, giving him the same dismissive smile.

being that he was your boyfriend, that hurt a little.

"good morning, kyo."

he lets his eyes linger on the bored, dull look that you attach to your screen, accompanied by your sluggish movements and purple smudges under your eyes. a dark eyebrow quirks from behind his glasses as your chest rises with a sigh, and your face crinkles despairingly at whatever you are working on.

"what are you doing?"

your lashes flick up to him once more before returning back to your task at hand. "i'm working on the budget."

he blinks a little at your reply. "still?"

the tension from your mouth seeps into your form at his question, and you shift in your seat. "yes, love, thank you so much for pointing that out."

lips parting slightly at the sarcasm in your voice, the club's director raises his fingers off of his keyboard, favoring to clasp them under his chin instead as a more calculating gaze sweeps the figure of his beloved.

he catches an eyebrow twitch, a flare of your nostrils, the way your head bobs slightly before you shake it, as if that could erase the pure exhaustion radiating from you.

yes, kyoya has seen this look before.

in the mirror.

"how much sleep did you get last night, my dear?"

this time, you don't even look at him when you answer. you just shrug at him, too focused on your typing to really concentrate on a reply. "i don't know. maybe an hour or so-."

a sharp flare of concern rises in his chest before you spin your computer on it's base, shoving the screen in his direction with a wary look in your eye. "does this look right to you? i feel like something's missing."

his hands are still at his mouth when he glances at the spreadsheet you two created together, the perfect, color coded numbers arranged into straight columns.

but his brow furrows even more the longer he looks at it. lowering his hands to the device, kyoya pulls it closer to him as he scrolls through, skimming the text for any sign of error or miscalculation.

he finds none.

"(y/n), this is perfect." his pupils dart across the page behind his frames. "i have no idea what you're stressing over."

the laptop is pulled away from him once more as you run a hand through your hair. "no, no." you hit the backspace button on your keyboard, tired eyes squinting over the excel sheet. "something isn't right."

your aggressive typing fills the air once more, a little more frenzied and anxious than a minute before.

kyoya leans back in his chair, still observing. "(y/n), have you been working out this budget since the time i sent it to you?"

"of course."

"that was two days ago."

"i know."

he stands, pushing out his chair, but you don't notice. "have you slept at all?"

"not really. i've been going through the math, the incoming inventory. sure, it looks perfect now, and we are within this month's spending range, but i know there's a way to save more money. if i could just-"

"that," the lid of your computer is suddenly pushed down, closing the screen in front of you. a pale hand with pianist-like fingers attached to it splays across your protective case. "is more than enough, then."

"kyoya!" you sit in front of him, shock emanating from your face as his name is gasped from your lips. "what the hell?"

kyoya leans in front of you, one hand bracing your laptop closed while the other slips into the pocket of his trousers. his raven hair falls into his eyes a little bit, but the gray color is still piercing and raw.

"my dear," he pulls away slightly, adding pressure onto your computer so that it drags to his side of the table. "you need to take a break."

"a break?" you rise as well, trying to keep a cool demeanor. but your director could tell that your patience was thinning. "i'm on the brink of figuring this out, and you want me to take a break?"

"you already have figured it out, (y/n). i looked it over. you found the solution."

"but it could be better."

quickly, kyoya rounds the table, walking into your space to grab one of your hands.

he places both of his palms around one of your own, trying to get through to you through his touch instead of his words, even if the connection was small.

"how much sleep have you had in the past forty-eight hours?"

abandoned by the distraction your work gave you, you now face your boyfriend head on as he studies your movements.

since the moment you met him, kyoya has always watched you intently. as a man who didn't involve himself with anything that he didn't care greatly for, the process of dating him has and will always include him taking the time to observe and study you; to commit your mannerisms to memory. gray irises will forever notice how you bounce your leg underneath your desk when you have something to say but won't say it out right. or how you take your (f/h/d) in the morning, and the exact brand that you use.

or how your face lights up when he comes into view from down the hallway, and you excuse yourself to meet him halfway.

or how you always seem to kiss him with soothing, deep movements, which always encourages him to respond in kind.

but, very rarely is that intent stare coupled with concern.

yet, here it was, bathing his beloved gaze as he waits for your reply, leaving you with an aching heart. you think back to they way you've been acting, cranky and stand-offish, and a pang of regret sparks in your stomach.

your hand adjusts slightly in his as you hold onto his grasp, albeit a little nervously.

"you want the truth?" your beautiful eyes break his gaze as you stubbornly shift in place.

"always."

"not very much. maybe three hours." he swallows as that sharp flare of concern burns into an engulfing flame in his torso. "in total."

A disappointed frown etches onto his handsome features, but it's not angry. it's sad.

sad that he didn't see your exhaustion before, not in it's totality. he saw your frequent yawns and the way you tended to drift off mid-conversation, but he was busy with work as well, and couldn't connect the dots until now.

"(y/n)-"

"i know, i know. it's not the best." you take a deep breath and look at him with more confidence, ready to admit to your actions. "the perfectionist in me kind of let loose. i'm sorry, i just wanted it to be the best that it could be. for the club, ya know? for you."

tugging on your clasped hands, a deep hum resonates from the ootori son as he draws you closer. soon, your hands naturally loop around his neck while he settles his hold at your waist.

his forehead rests on yours as he sighs deeply, and you close your eyes as his low voice reaches your ears. "i think the best thing for me and the club is for you to get some rest."

he smirks a little as he feels you giggle tiredly against him. "yeah, i think you're right."

kyoya chuckles softly as he raises his forehead off of yours to place a kiss in the same spot. "i'm always right, my dear."

.oOo.

"hikaru! stop it!"

arms caged yours as you writhed against his chest. your legs were wild as they kicked up into the air, barely missing your boyfriend as he picked you up from where you had sat on your desk.

"put me down right now! what are you even doing?"

he grunts a little as your swinging legs hit his calves before throwing you down on your bed. unceremoniously, the bed frame creaks with your weight as you land face first into your duvet.

a loud huff escapes you as you turn around from your position, seeing hikaru standing at the foot of your bed with his arms crossed, a victorious smile plastered onto his sharp mouth.

"well, i asked you to take a break from your studying. and you said 'make me.'" his fingers come to either side of his head to create quotation marks. "so i made ya."

"i didn't mean literally, jackass." you grumble as you shift. your palms push your body up off the bed and spin you so that you are seated properly on your comforter. scooting roughly to the edge of your mattress, you barely stand up before your pushed onto the bed again.

"hikaru!"

"nope. not gonna happen."

"i need to study!"

"that's what you've been saying for the past two days!" his rough voice sounds exasperated as he gestures wildly to you. "in the clubroom, in the cafeteria, on our facetime calls. shit, (y/n), i don't think there has been a single second where i haven't seen that textbook open in front of you."

he points to the hefty calculus book open on your desk, three quarters of the pages turned to one side.

"that's what studying is!" you move to get up again with another frustrated sigh. "my test is tomorrow, my love, i can't afford any breaks right now."

this time, instead of simply pushing your back onto the bed, hikaru pins you down. in a flash, golden eyes fill your vision as his fingers clamp around your wrist. when you fall back, his weight takes you down as he flops heavily on your chest.

"you're not going anywhere, baby. not until you tell me what's going on."

"nothing is going on." you huff, blowing a few of his ginger strands out of his face. "now get off me."

"i don't believe you." ever the stubborn twin, hikaru makes a point to wiggle his body on top of yours to amplify the fact that you have no hope of pushing him off. "and i'm not moving until i believe you."

"what?" you bite back.

a more serious tone laces his voice as he scans you. "today, during club hours, you looked like a zombie."

you shoot him a blank look. "thanks."

"a gorgeous zombie, but still."

"not helping."

a crease forms between his eyebrows at your usually soft, bright tone crackling into dry one. "you were dragging your feet, and talking to yourself more than usual. it was creepy."

you rolled your eyes, and hikaru watches as the bags under your eyes moved with the motion, his jaw setting into a firm line.

"so i'm not getting off of you until you tell me what's been up your ass lately."

offended, you gasp and writhe once more, trying to break free of the surprisingly strong grasp the hitachiin twin has on your wrists. "i don't have time for this!"

he chuckles a little at your flustered expression and sinks more of his weight onto your figure. "well, if you're not going to take a break, than i will. i think i'll take a little nap on this comfortable bed."

realizing he doesn't need to pin your arms down anymore with all of his weight on you, he lets go and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his arms and legs sprawling out over your uniform.

"don't you dare, hikaru!" you say as you try to bring your arms underneath him to push him off, but he's just a block of dead weight.

his breath hits your ear, and you can feel the mischievous smile on his lips. "oh, wow, this is a bumpy mattress." wriggling, he adjusts so that he locks perfectly into your body, and a deep sigh emits from his lungs. "that's better."

another weak push strains your muscles before you give up completely. flopping back onto the mattress, you let out a frustrated groan.

"hikaru, please."

"oh, the mattress speaks?"

"my love."

laughing, he presses a kiss onto the column of your throat. "what's up, baby?"

like a weighted blanket, hikaru's body flush against yours has calmed your heart rate slightly, and all the exhaustion and stress that you have been feeling suddenly comes to a head.

your arms lift from your sides to wrap around his toned back, and you turn your face into the divot connecting his shoulder and his collarbone, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne and laundry detergent.

"i've been awake for the past forty-eight hours."

his chest rumbles with a sympathetic hum. "i know."

"i'm tired."

his head pops up from the embrace, and sincerity shines in the liquid gold of his irises. "let's take a nap, and then we can figure something out afterwards, yeah?"

you can already feel your eyelids dragging over your pupils. "yeah, that sounds nice."

as you succumb to your fatigue, you barely register the way hikaru rolls off of you. his warmth returns when you feel an arm wedge itself under your waist and pull you to him so that you can lay on his chest with ease. the other wraps around your shoulders, and you feel his breath tickling the top of your head as he settles in beside you.

"thanks for telling me, baby."

.oOo.

"so, i think because i found the magnitude of this vector, than i should be able to find the acceleration, right?" kaoru asks, back hunched over his desk, spinning a pencil in his left hand as he concentrates on the paperwork in front of him.

when he doesn't get a response, he stops fidgeting and looks over to you: his incredibly intelligent, and usually helpful, partner.

you're sat next to him, slaving away at your laptop while he watches the blue light practically burn your retinas.

well, sat is a strong word.

you slouched, your neck barely able to keep your head on your shoulders as you worked at his desk, fingers robotically clicking at your mouse and dragging images to their predetermined place, your graphic design coming to fruition with each release of a button.

"(y/n)?"

at the sound of your name, your spine flinches slightly as it straightens. you whip your head towards him with such a quick motion, that he winces at the twist of the muscle, hoping you didn't get whiplash.

his hopes are dashed when you immediately face the front, bringing one of your hands up to massage the nape of your neck.

"are you okay?"

"i'm fine," you breathe, exhaustion sprinkled in your sigh. "what did you need?"

cautiously, kaoru slides his paper over to you while you shift closer to him, pulling your chair over until your legs touch underneath his desk.

"i don't know if i got this problem right."

through a yawn, your eyes scan his homework, everything coming together in a blurry font due to your lack of sleep. you can barely make out his handwriting on your best day, so the fact that you hardly think straight doesn't really help.

but you couldn't let kaoru know that.

"it looks good, babe."

he quirks a ginger eyebrow, glancing between the paper and then back up to where you sat.

"yeah?" he asks, studying you carefully.

"for sure."

"okay, well then," your boyfriend flips the paper over, where another disarray of words meet you. he scribbles something out before circling an answer choice from his options, then looks back at you. "that must be right, too, yeah?"

you nod, blinking slowly. "mhmm." you turn to look at him, a small smile on your lips. "you're so smart, love."

his lips curve up into a half-smirk as he tilts his head, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. golden irises squint as he glances over your face once more. "it's a smiley face."

your smile fades. "huh?"

the sneaky twin gestures towards the paper again, and after rubbing your palms over your eye-sockets, a happy face penciled in lead comes into accusing focus.

"i drew a smiley face, and you said i was smart." kaoru summarizes, a deadpan tone only being interrupted slightly as he laughs through his sentence. "what is going on with you?"

a frustrated whine ripples past your throat as you rest your head in your hands. your voice breaks into a quiet groan, and while your volume doesn't rise, your disappointment does. "god, this essay is making me lose my mind! i can't even think clearly, let alone write three more pages of this shit."

"hey, woah." kaoru rests his hand against your spine and rubs it, moving his hand back and forth in calming motions. "talk to me."

another deep sigh rushed out of you as you talk behind your hands, and your poor boyfriend can't hear a single thing.

the hand on your back glides to the side of your face, bringing your chin up and out of your grasp. he locks his gaze with yours as he leans back in his chair. "try again, babe."

"this essay makes me want to jump off a cliff."

"and you were gonna do that without me? i thought we had an agreement."

"shut up." despite yourself, you laugh.

the fingers on your chin shift to your scalp while he laughs with you, pushing only a few of the stray hairs away from your face. "have you slept?"

"not well."

kaoru notes a redness in your eyes he didn't see before. "not well, or not at all?"

you roll your eyes a little, but he knows it's not directed at him. you're disappointed in yourself. "a mix of both." hastily you look back at him, widening your eyelids a little at a poor attempt to look more awake.

"but it's no big deal!" your voice is a little too bright. "i can catch up on sleep once i submit this paper."

the gingered twin squints his eyes, but to your surprise, he shrugs, spinning in his office chair as he refocuses on his work. "yeah, i guess you're right. i get it."

your mouth was slightly agape at the fact that that actually worked. "you get it?"

"yeah. sometimes, people just can't sleep enough with everything going, ya know? i only got two hours of sleep last night, so i understand what you're going through."

there's a pause. kaoru fights a smirk as he scratches an equation into the top right of his paper.

"what?" a concerned voice reaches his ears, and he almost feels bad for lying. "only two hours?"

"mhmm." he hums, not even giving you a second glance.

"kaoru," the sweetest whine escapes your lips as he feels a hand on his shoulder. he steels his expression into one of confused nonchalance as he faces you again, only to be met with the spot you get between your crinkled eyebrow when you're worried. "why didn't you tell me?"

"what do you mean? it's not a big deal."

"yes it is!" your other hand reaches his opposite shoulder, and he turns to face you fully, reveling in your touch as you move to cradle his face. "sleep is important, babe, you can't just-"

his grin widens as a flash of realization flutters across your face. The worry in your features melts into a blank expression, and he laughs as you push his face away from yours, muttering a "jackass" under your breath.

the sneaky twin closes the distance though, pulling your chair ever closer to his to where nothing was standing in his way to pull you to his lap. you resist slightly, pouting as your sat into the space between his legs, but a natural, familiar gravity pulls you towards him anyway, and your face rests gently in the crook of his neck.

"rest for a couple minutes, okay? your paper will be here when you wake up."

a contended sigh seeps out of you as your exhaustion bubbles up to the surface. your eyelids begin to drop when you speak into his neck. "and what about you?"

kaoru's arms come to wrap around your folded form, burying you closer into his chest. "i'll always be here."

.oOo.

mori had gotten used to your talkative nature. being a man of little words, you complimented him well with your bright, energetic commentary about anything that excited you.

he supposed that he hadn't just gotten used to your bubbly personality shining through your lovely voice, he had come to love it; to rely on it.

so, when you entered your usual sparring session with your heels dragging on the wooden floor of the dojo, not only did the air feel off, he felt off.

your white gi hung off your rounded shoulders, the karate belt around your waist haphazardly tied in a knot at the front. and while you still looked as stunning as ever, mori could feel the confusion and worry well up in his chest.

he stood up from stretching out his hamstrings, his long body gracefully walking over to you to greet you with his usual hug. your smile was tired, and when you wrapped your arms around his thin waist, he felt you snuggle more into his hold and release a breath.

still gripping his waist, you looked up at him, your grin still exhausted but content when you propped your chin on his chest to meet his eyes.

"hey." you said, and your voice was airy and cracked.

"hi."

"how was your day?"

"good." his palms tightened on your back. "yours?"

you could barely keep your eyes open as you shrugged. "meh. it was interesting."

"yeah?"

"yeah." still, even in your tired state, you inched your face closer to his, a dazed look in your eye. "but we can talk about it later."

a disbelieving, good-natured scoff left him as a sharp exhale, your boyfriend knowing full-well that would not want to talk about it later. but he met you halfway, and your lips met in a lazy, soft kiss as he lowered his head to yours.

you had nearly put all of your weight onto him at this point, and as you sunk into his grip, he arched his back to counteract the force. his hands glided from your waist to your cheeks as he tilted his head, smirking slightly at the warm hum that left your throat.

pulling away, he kept his forehead on yours as he held you. a breathy left glazed over his face when you separated from him, and he opened his eyes to see a light curve on your plump lips.

"thanks, takashi. i needed that."

that brought all of his worries rushing back.

"(y/n)..." and you opened your eyes at the way he said your name. since mori wasn't the most vocal man you've been with, you learned to pick up on his tonal cues.

your name could be spoken in many ways. a gentle breeze as he tells you that he loves you, a deep inhale as you, yet again, prove your the clumsiest human alive, or maybe a groan in the late, late hours of the night.

this one was a mild warning, forming at the front of his mouth as he stares at you, deep brown eyes boring into yours with earnest.

"what?" you didn't want him to ask. but, he was kind and loving and really fucking stubborn. so, of course he was.

"what's wrong?"

a whine bubbled to the surface of your soft pallet as you dropped your face into the crook of his neck, even if you had to stand on your tip-toes to do so. abandoning your hold on his waist, you preferred to bring your arms up and around his shoulders, locking them around the back of his neck.

"i don't want to talk about it."

"what happened?"

"nothing, really. i promise."

"doesn't feel like nothing. here," gently, you felt a pressure on your hips as mori pushes you out of his hold, instead moving to grab your hand as he leads you to a traditionally decorated wall of the dojo.

letting go, the stoic leans his back against the wall before sliding down, tucking his lanky form into a sitting position before inviting you to do the same. "sit with me."

and he looked so sweet, his gaze hardened on the surface but filled with emotion and weight within it's depths. so how could you say no?

plus, he really wouldn't stop until you told him.

taking a spot next to him, you let your head roll onto the back of the wall before resting it on his shoulder. and the spot was so comfortable, so familiar, you wanted to fall asleep right there.

mori was stubborn, yes, but he was also patient. he waited like a boulder against the tide as you gathered your thoughts, loyal and permanent and determined to help you through whatever was plaguing you.

in your thoughtful silence, he imagined the stress you had been baring when you were assigned that presentation in class. even if you were energetic and outspoken, he knew public speaking terrified you. the pure panic that had erupted in your irises when you told him about the ten-minute powerpoint you had to put together in three days told him everything he needed to know about how your weekend was going to go.

that was two days ago, and he had suggested this impromptu sparring match to give you a little bit of a break. physical activity always cleared his head when he was stretched, and he figured if he could remind you how strong you were, then you could convince yourself that this would be a piece of cake.

but the bags under your eyes and the unanswered calls from him on your cell-phone made him think that this had been harder on you than he had originally expected.

a small snore broke him out of his thoughts, and he looked down at the source.

your eyes were peacefully closed, and your lips were parted as deep, calm breaths washed in and out of your chest. he relaxed slightly into the wall, and smiled as you cuddled closer to him in his small movement.

kissing the top of your head, he rested his cheekbone upon your hair as he rested his eyes as well.

you two would talk later. it wasn't physical activity you needed, or even a helping hand if you had let him.

all you needed, really, was a little bit of rest.

.oOo.

"(n/n)-chan! (n/n)-chan!"

honey bounced up to your desk as you typed away, usa-chan banging against the side of his calves as he stopped at the end of your chair. "wanna play with me, (n/n)-chan?"

you barely spared him a glance, but your eyes met his with a quick shake of your head as you returned your urgent glance to your laptop. "not right now, honey. sorry."

the blonde's bouncing stopped, a little to awe-struck at your rejection to feel sad about it. he was more confused than anything. you never said no to him.

a deep, apparent wrinkle appeared between his brows as the boy-lolita tugged on your sleeve, causing your fingers to slip off the keyboard slightly as you typed. "please?"

"what the-?" your hand having slipped, it gently brushes the cup of tea near your working space, and you gasp before rolling your eyes. "no, honey. i told you, i can't. go play with usa-chan, okay?" you quickly pulled your sleeve out of his grasp and got back to your work, leaving him deflated at your side.

this time he was pouting, and the wrinkle on his forehead turned from confused to determined as he walked around to the opposite side of the table to crawl into the chair across from you.

"what are you workin' on?"

this time your eyes flicked up to him for a longer moment. you wondered why he couldn't leave you alone, but you guessed it was better that he was sitting over there rather than pulling at your uniform and keeping you from your work. "the club's website."

he gasped as he swung his legs on the chair, too short to reach the ground from this height. "ooh, are you making it pretty?"

a sigh came from deep within you as your eyes squinted, zooming in on something on the other side of your screen. "you could say that."

"what are you doing to it?"

you shrugged, still focused on your work. "formatting, graphic designing, boring tech stuff."

"cool!" honey excitedly places his palms on the table, seeing if he sat up straighter, he could get a better view. "how do you know how to do all that?"

you suspiciously scanned him over as he edged closer, pulling your computer forward on the table. "lots of practice."

a high-pitched hum exudes from the third-year as he tilts his head, almost fully on the table now, but something has caught your eye, and your back to your furious typing, not noticing how close he's gotten.

his voice sounds distant in your focus. "couldn't you take a break? for cake? a cake break?" he giggles, but his smile falters when you don't hear his joke.

"haven't taken a break in two days, honey. not gonna start now." your voice is low and inattentive, trailing off as you scroll through the columns and columns of pictures and texts.

still crawling towards you, his brown eyes widen slightly. "two days?" he gasps, and begins to count on his fingers. "that's uhhh..." honey counts his fingers under his breath for a moment before he brightens with an answer. "forty eight hours worth of work! did you even sleep?"

"nope. no sleep. kyoya needs this done by tonight."

"what?!" at that, honey stands to his full height, his small but strudy weight easily supported by the desk underneath him. you jerk back as he points a finger in your face, his voice still young but firm as he speaks down to you. "you need to take a nap right now!"

"honey!" the blonde has your full attention now. "get down!"

"nope!" his pink lips pop the 'p' noise as he shakes his head defiantly. "not until you agree to sleep! kyo-chan can wait."

your hands come up in an exasperated motion and you stand up, pushing your chair out from under you. "honey, this table is not stable. you're gonna fall if you don't get down!"

"will you take a break?"

"i can't!"

"well, then i'm not coming down." folding his arms across his chest, he puffs it out, a proud look on his face.

his confident aura melts, however, when the table shifts with his dramatic movement.

you suck in a breath as honey throws his arms out to balance himself, barely keeping the table at bay as he wiggles side to side.

"okay! okay, i'll take a ten-minute nap! just, please sweetheart, get down from there."

even in the midst of chaos of his own making, honey still finds the. motivation to negotiate. "twenty minutes!"

"fine!" you round the table and extend your arms, and he leaps into them as you pick him up. your heart rate slows as you hold him while the table falls with the loss of his added weight, your tea and computer skidding to opposite sides of the tile.

blankly, you look at honey as he winces at the impact, and then at the dark aura that slowly begins to crowd around your frame.

"i can pay for that." he promises.

.oOo.

your knee bounces under your desk as you watch haruhi's eyes flick over your screen, the words you spent two days writing reflecting back in her dark brown eyes as she reads your work.

your hands are clasped in front of your lips, keeping you from saying anything like 'i changed my mind!' or 'okay, you can stop now', because you're pretty sure haruhi would ignore you anyway.

she had insisted on reading your short story. it was something you did in your free time, and it was something she knew you took pride in.

sometimes, if you felt courageous enough, you would submit them into newspapers, or maybe magazines and blogs if you were really going all out, this past weekend being one of those times. day in and day out, you sat at your writing desk, typing away for what felt like mere seconds as the story in your mind began to unfold onto the pages in front of you. barely any food and close to no sleep rendered a masterpiece of literature, or at least that was what haruhi had assured you she would call it if you let her proof-read it.

your natural host promised that it would take her only a few minutes to read the whole thing, and then you could be on your way to submit it to the magazine's editor. plus, it was the least you could do since you basically ignored her calls and used up all of your study-date time to edit and revise your concluding paragraph.

but finally, finally, after many torturous seconds, your girlfriend leans back. her hands wrap around the edge of your macbook to only shut the laptop halfway and push it aside, turning her full attention back to you.

very briefly, you pulls your hands away from your mouth to ask the question you've been dreading. "what do you think?"

the gentle look that haruhi always wears stays frozen for a moment, but slowly starts to melt into a soft smile as she meets your nervous gaze. "it's good, love. it's really good."

straightening, your eyes widen as you bite your lip. "really?"

her smile gets brighter as amazement floods your cheekbones. "really."

"oh my god." releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding, you throw yourself into the back of your chair. pulling your palms up and around, they rake over your face before scratching through your hair, a groan morphing into a laugh as relief sputters out of you. you feel like you need to say it again, probably louder for good measure. "oh my god! you really liked it?"

the honor student's deep laugh joins yours as watches you bask in a job well done. "why would i lie about that?"

touching down to earth, you shrug, your hands falling into your lap. "because you love me, and you would do anything to make me happy?"

she snorts, leaning forward as she is drawn into your space. "you're right. i do love you. probably just enough to never lie to you again."

a teasing smile curves your lips as you fake offended disbelief, scooting closer so that your knees slip between her own. "again?"

brunette eyebrows work upwards as haruhi mirrors your smirk, nodding as she gets even closer. "mhmm."

"and what have you lied about, haruhi dear?" her breath is mixing in with yours now, and she keeps her kiss barely out of reach, her lips grazing yours as she responds.

"about letting you leave tonight."

"wha-?" your eyebrows knit as haruhi shoots out of her chair, and before you can protest, she is straddling your hips, one of her legs on either side of you as you blush at her sudden proximity.

"haruhi!" but even if your voice sounds surprised, you hold her closer, your palms coming to rest on her thighs.

"when was the last time you slept?" she asks, suddenly serious as she cups your face in her hands.

"last night." you say, but she squints at your response.

"for how long?"

"enough." you whine, bringing your hands around her waist, encouraging her to be flush against you. "don't worry about it."

"(y/n), you look exhausted. i'm going to be worried about it."

you look at her for a moment before realizing that she isn't going to back down. shoulders slumping, you drop your head onto her shoulder, hugging her close to your body. "two hours. maybe."

a displeased noise expels from her throat, but suddenly you feel slender fingers rubbing your back, toying with the hairs on the back of your neck. "you need to sleep."

making a grunt of blind agreement, you melt into her hold, the excitement and anxiousness you felt about your story being blown away by a gust of drowsiness. the scratches on your scalp weren't helping.

"like right now." she emphasizes, and tries to wiggle out of your hold, but you were stronger. tightening your grip around her slim waist.

her shoulders shake with another endearingly low laugh as she hugs you back. "let's get to the bed, love."

you don't think you've ever slept deeper in your life.

.oOo.

starting to write again, and i used this as a little exersise to get back into it. hopefully it can tide you over! i'll see you soon :)

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joonberriess · 1 year

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𓆩♡𓆪 “booty so big, lord have mercy,” — jock!jk

·˚ ༘ 💌 TAGS — creampies!! , protected and then unprotected sex, mean jk, smutty smut, based off of a ask, talks of pregnancy, pouty y/n bc she hates condoms, a little degradation, jk’s ass obsession plays a big part here !

It's soft and it jiggled. A lot.

Jungkook had this weird obsession with your tits sure, but your ass? That man worshipped it. You in general fit as his ideal type, he loved every single part of you. From your pretty little smile down to your soft plushy thighs.

If Jungkook had to name something he loved (body wise) it had to be both your ass and tits. You were so soft all over he couldn't resist himself. Whenever he'd come over after a long day in classes or at work the first thing he did was lay down and bury his face between those soft mounds of pure heaven.

An added bonus was the fact that you smelled like strawberries. As for your ass, now that was a whole different story.

He always had his hand resting on it, occasionally squeezing or slapping it for fun. He liked the way it jiggled a lot, especially when he fucked you. Whenever he fucked you from behind his eyes would drift down and watch as your cheeks clapped back against his pelvis. He loved it even more whenever he left handprints..

Jungkook knew he was lucky, and he was always smug about it whenever he heard other men complain about how you were taken already. He didn't have to lay his claim over you, one call of your name and you were running to him like a lovesick puppy. You losing interest? Not a chance.

You didn't seem to mind the obsession with your bottom, in fact you welcomed it! You always felt safe and sound in his arms, but him holding your ass cheek in his sleep? That was a win. You almost couldn't sleep if he didn't have his hand on you.

The same thing could be said about your tits. You loved having his marks all over and didn't seem to mind if he slept on them. One of your guilty pleasures you enjoyed was whenever he suckled on your nipple like a baby while he dozed off. It made you sleepy if anything.

Which leads you to your next point, the sex. Now, you both never used condoms or bothered with them because you were on birth control and so far nothing out of the ordinary happened. There was always that tiny percentage of pregnancy happening but you two just said fuck it.

It was highly risky given the amount of times Jungkook came in you. By some miracle from the Gods above somehow you still hadn't gotten pregnant. Jennie would nag about using protection and taking the extra measure to secure no pregnancy. You would whine to her that condoms didn't feel the same!

"But-but, Jennie!" You whine loudly, "I hate the rubber, I hate it, I hate it." You fuss angrily as you give her a little glare.

Jennie rose a brow, "Do you like babies y/n? Would you like to throw your twenties away for a brat?" She puts her hands on her hips disappointedly.

You stare at her with a sad look, "But my baby would be cute."

"And you look cuter without a child, your point?" She rolls her eyes, "You're barely even completing your second year of college you are not ready for a child."

"How about next year?" You tilt your head, giving her a ditzy smile.

Jennie sighs, "How 'bout no?" Your pout deepens and you turn away.

Needless to say you thought about it a lot, and while you did want a baby sometime and would be happy to be pregnant with Jungkook, Jennie was right. You needed to finish school first and start your career before settling down. Plus if you were pregnant that meant you couldn't go to parties with Jungkook anymore.

.... :(

You begrudgingly agreed to the condom idea, reciting in your head this was for your own good and his own good. You bring it up to him over dinner one night when he takes you out to get some late night food.

Jungkook was in the middle of grilling the meat when you spoke up, "Jennie said we should use condoms." You softly say as you watch him flip the meat to grill on the other side.

"Did she?" Jungkook says, not looking up from the task at hand, "And how do you feel about that?"

"I think we should.." You trail off, already grumpy and sour from thinking about having to use them, " 's to make sure I don't get pregnant."

Jungkook hums, "Okay." He says as he looks up at you, "If it's what you want we'll go get some after this."

You whine, "But-but," you pout sadly and give him puppy eyes, "you're not supposed to agree! I hate them."

"Baby," he laughs, "what do you mean? I don't think you know how it works, if you don't like something you have the ultimate say. I'm not going to get angry because you want to use protection." He says calmly whilst placing a few pieces of meat on your plate.

You begrudgingly glare at him, "I know.." You mumble softly and pick your chopsticks up, "I'll think about it, and when I feel ready can we stop?"

"I don't know baby, will we? Up to you." Jungkook says with a hum, "We'll do whatever you want."

The rest of dinner goes smoothly, he pays and drives you both to the nearest convenience store that's a block away from your apartment. "I'm going to get snacks." You smile giddily, already forgetting about what you two originally came for.

"Shit get me some starbursts or something." Jungkook calls out as you both split up to get your respective items.

You eagerly grab your beloved snacks, carrying a little basket around as you grab a cup of ice for a peach tea or something. Jungkook occasionally looks back at you but doesn't say anything when you push past him with a tiny "excuse me".

"Ready?" Jungkook grins, box of condoms already tossed into basket.

"Yeah." You mumble softly, snuggling into his side as you wait for the person in line to pay for their items.

Luckily the cashier doesn't care much about the condoms given that some have the tendency to be nosy and judgmental. You both pay for your items and head out to the car.

"Wait," you fuss over Jungkook and reach over to clean his cheek, "there."

He chuckles softly and starts the car, "You're cute." He sets his hand on your thigh like usual and gets going back to your apartment.

Jennie's car isn't in the parking lot lucky for you, you both head up and go right into your bedroom. "Hi Luna," you coo softly at your little bunny who's sitting in your bed thumping her little legs on the bed excitedly.

"I missed you too." You softly pout, leaning over the bed to caress her little head and smooch it. You don't bat an eye when Jungkook passes by and smacks your ass as he flops on the other side of the bed.

"You want one?" He offers, holding out the bag of candies you had picked out for him.

You shake your head and climb into bed with him, gently setting Luna on the floor as she hops away to her tiny home you have set up somewhere off next to your desk. "I wanna watch My Hero, the villain arc was pretty cool.." You mumbled softly and grabbed your remote.

Jungkook hums with a nod, not verbally replying as he's busy eating his candy. You manage to put the episode on and then turn to snuggle into his side, a leg tossed over his waist as you hug him. "Can I have one now?"

He tilts the bag towards you and you happily take a few to snack on while the episode starts. Jungkook gets comfy with you and wraps a arm around your waist, setting his hand flat against your ass, squeezing the cheek and rubbing his thumb against it.

You smile happily and snuggle close. Like every other night when you're with him Jungkook rubs his hand on your ass and occasionally squeezes it. He's touchy so you don't mind, but you know he's getting horny when he starts to lose all interest in the anime and starts kissing on your neck.

His lips press against your neck and sucks on a small patch of skin. His hand squeezes you tighter before trailing up to the curve of your waist, squeezing you there instead. You quietly sigh, eyes fluttering closed as you lean into his touch, "Jungkook," you whine.

Jungkook hums quietly, pulling away and going to another unmarked area on your neck to leave hickeys. His fingers press deeply on your hips as he noisily sucks on your neck. You can feel your pussy quiver and begin to grow wetter from his teasing.

"Turn over for me." Jungkook whispers against your neck, "Want to see that pretty ass baby."

You bite back a mewl and slowly turn over, raising your hips as you reach to yank your panties down. Jungkook easily helps you with that as he tears them down and tosses them into a random corner in your room. He lifts your hips up so your ass is in the air and your chest is on the bed.

"Damn," he mutters as he massages your soft cheek before suddenly bringing his hand down to smack it, watching it ripple in satisfaction. "So fucking sexy." He licks his lips.

A little groan escapes your lips as you turn to eye him with a pleading gaze. "Want it," you wiggle your ass side to side, "please?"

Jungkook smacks your ass one more time before he leans over to rummage through the bag of snacks, looking for the box of condoms. "Shit, give me a sec baby," he grunts as he finally finds the box and brings it out, tearing it open and tossing it somewhere as he brings the condom up to his mouth, tearing the foil.

You giggle quietly and lift yourself on your elbows, "You're so slowwww."

"Hush," Jungkook slips his sweats down to reveal his hard cock, "you're just a whiny little slut." He grins teasingly as he rolls the condom down on his cock.

You bite your lip in arousal from his words, pussy practically dripping. He taps the tip against your pussy, rubbing up and down your folds. You brace your hands on the bed in anticipation and look back at him, “Kook,” you plead softly.

Jungkook hums, “Stay still.” He reaches down with his free hand to steady you, cock against your hole before he presses in.

You inhale sharply, biting down on your lip as you suppress a quiet little moan. He fills you slowly, cock breaching your little pussy as you struggle to take him all in a smooth stride. His cock throbs a little and you’re angrily reminded of the stupid rubber in the way.

“I said to sit still,” Jungkook smacks your ass hard, “haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re cock drunk.” He gives a disappointed ‘tsk’ as he swats at your other ass cheek.

A loud cry escapes your lips and you deep your arch, hands fisting the sheets tightly. “B-But-But, I want it!” You angrily kick your feet, turning your head to shoot him a deep glare.

Jungkook grabs the back of your head and forces you back down, “And I said to wait.” He licks his lips, “Dumb little slut can’t even listen to simple instructions. Isn’t that right? ‘s long as you got a cock in you you’re happy aren’t you baby?” He coos.

You drool a little into the pillow and you find yourself pushing back against him despite the latter telling you not to. You force his cock deeper inside, ass flush to his hips as you wiggle around. Jungkook grunts in surprise as he manages to swat you once more before holding you still.

“Little brat.” He grunts, “You want my cock that badly? Was going to treat you like the princess you are,” he tuts as he then uses you for leverage, hips slamming into yours, “looks like that’s not happening.”

A loud cry bubbles out of your throat, you feel him start up a brutal pace. Right from the get-go the room is filled with wet smacks and loud thumping. He drives his cock into you, hitting those spots you love. It causes your pussy to grow wetter around him.

“Look at you,” he huffs out breathlessly, “always so good to me, taking me like a good girl.” He licks his lips and grabs both of your ass cheeks as he holds each cheek, “That’s right baby, throw it back for me.”

You whine loudly and brace your hands on the bed as you do your best to move back on him. Your ass jiggles in his hold as you manage to fuck yourself back on his cock. You set the pace, mewling and moaning in pleasure as he fills you over and over again.

“J-Jungkook..!” You gasp out, eyes teary and thighs shaky.

He hums lowly and smacks both of your cheeks, hips still as he watches you fuck yourself on his cock. There’s a audible squelching noises whenever you push back, a ring of creamy white forms around the base of his cock. He suddenly misses the feeling of you making a mess around him.

Jungkook slaps your ass harshly and pins you down, taking over once again as he slams his hips into yours. You cry out in pleasure and brace yourself against the headboard. Jungkook fucks you with all he’s got, like he’s taking his anger out on you or something.

“Fuck,” he moans out, “doing so good for me, wish I could fill your pretty pussy up.” His hips stutter at the mention of coming inside of you.

Your eyes water, vision blurred from the pleasure as you bite down on the pillow to muffle your moans. Jungkook moves his hands up to grip your waist, pounding you deeply as he aims his cock to hit your g-spot with every brush.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” He coos softly.

You nod rapidly and reach between your shaky thighs to rub your clit in fast circles. The pleasure spikes up drastically and Jungkook lets out a soft moan when your pussy tightens around his cock.

“So tight,” he whispers out as he rolls his hips faster and faster.

Your hips jolt, pushing back on his cock firmly as you suddenly cum. Your toes curl and you yelp loudly in pleasure, “Jungkook,” you gasp, “J-Jungkook..!” You whimper loudly.

“What is it baby?” He breathlessly asks.

“C-Cum,” you whimper loudly and squirm around, “want your cum in me.” You mewl.

Jungkook groans, “Fuck,” he wants to so badly but you had told him already, “wish I could baby.” He whispers, stomach coiling as he feels his cock twitch.

You turn to give him a teary puppy gaze, “Please,” you whisper back and reach behind you to part your cheeks for him, “want your cum in me, don’t care about the condom.”

He moans loudly and swiftly pulls out, yanking the condom off as he strokes his cock rapidly. “Fuck baby, hold yourself open for me.” His eyes focus on the way your small hands struggle to hold both of your cheeks apart for him.

Both of your holes were exposed for him, and it didn’t help that the fat of your ass spilled through your fingers. He threw his head back and suddenly pushed in, coming deep inside. “Fuck!”

You mewl happily and let your cheeks go, feeling them jiggle a little as you happily take all of his cum inside. “Mmmm,” you close your eyes and wiggle your hips side to side.

“So much for the condoms.” Jungkook murmured as he ran his palm over your ass slowly.

You smack your lips together sleepily and turn around to smile at him, “I hate them, can we never use them again?”

“Do you want to be my baby mama?” Jungkook smirks back at you.

“Hmmmm… maybe. Not yet.” You giggle loudly as he tackles you, planting face kisses all over you as the night goes on.

TAG LIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @jungkookminthairwhen @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut

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madxyy · 2 months

Text

Selfish

| pairing : peter x reader

| summary: your boyfriend comes home injured--as usual--late at night and you can't help but want him safe from his life as spider-man

| warnings: fluff, touching wrists (sigh, again), y/n used once, baby used, peter being cute and angsty as usual, reader also being cute, light angst

author's note: i am trying to write angst so bare with me lol

2 am.

It’s always when you hear that faint knock on your window that makes all your worries wash away in a split second. But not today, no, today was different. You were waiting all night to hear that thud on the firescape or the cries of the window seal being opened. All night you were absorbed in your own anxieties and worries. Your hopes were dreading as time went by. You were getting scared for the local crime fighting hero and you did everything in your power to take your mind off it.

You really did.

Drawing, watching tv, listening to music, cleaning the room—which was a bad idea as it just bought you a reminder of the boy who has your heart. You would stumble upon Peter's belongings that were scattered around your shared apartment like confetti: his engineering notes, his sweaters, his latest sketch of a brilliant idea he had to improve his spider-man suit. It only made your heart ache even more, longing for his presence and increasing your worries for your vigilante boyfriend. So you would take another route and try binge-watching a new season of a recent tv show you are watching, which would likely just be collecting dust in the column of ‘continue watching.’

Your mind keeps on going back to him. ‘He’s okay. He’s okay.’ You thought to yourself. ‘He’s coming back to me. He’ll be alright. He’s probably on his way right now. It’s just going to be a scratch, hopefully. He's going to be okay, right? Oh god. Oh god.’

As much as you love and adore that your boyfriend is helping the city and its people by saving anyone from another lab experiment gone wrong or from a dangling car that’s about to fall off a bridge, you can't help but wonder if he would ever take care of himself. It’s hard seeing him everytime he comes through your window with a new bruise on his keen jawline, a wound on his ribs, a scar on his hip. You couldn’t deal with it anymore. You wish he stopped just for his own safety. You know it’s selfish but is it so wrong to want him safe? Just the thought of turning on the news and seeing J. Jameson reporting: “Breaking News: Our local friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man reported dead by …”

You want him back with you already, his arms wrapped around you, drowning you into his warm embrace, so distinctly Peter, while he whispers soft and reassuring words that always mend your heart. You long to hear his random facts about science, see his lopsided smile that always welcomes you back into reality whenever you wake up next to him each morning. You yearn for his contagious laugh that makes your heart throb in delight over the euphonious sound. You want to smile at the tics he does when he gets nervous or the way he avoids eye contact and scratches the back of his neck when he is stuck in an awkward situation. You want him to be back so you can smooch the newly embedded scars that are planted all over his body which you love kissing away everyday when he wakes up. You want to see his dimples that adorn his face when he smiles wide enough because he finally got his web shooters to work, followed by a triumph fist bump to the air. You want to see his eyes, oh his eyes: brown, soft, autumnal, brimming with love and warmth, despite the grief and cruelty he has been absorbed in. His scent, a mix of cedarwood and asphalt (due to his high-flying urban adventures). You want to see the way his hair sticks up in the morning whilst the sun gives it a mixture of honey and bronze aura, running your hands through the mused up tufts of hair, which always leads to the corners of his eyes crinkling up as a sleepy, boyish smile tugs up on his rosy lips.

Selfish. You can’t help it.

You waited as long as you could; staring at your window for who knows how long. Your eyes were trained on the window for a good while, but you couldn't help it, all this anxiety finally got to you and you were feeling drained and your posture slumps with exhaustion. Your eyes burn from keeping them open, and soon those same eyes start to slowly droop. Blinking back sleepiness proved futile; your head eventually settled onto the cool silk of your pillow. The material greets your cheek, making it easier for you to be welcomed into slumber.

It was 4 am, yet your worries haven’t gone down at all. Your eyelids started to grow heavier, and darkness gradually enveloped your senses, until you heard a faint knock on your window, piercing the silence.

Your heart leapt, and you twisted towards the sound. In an instant, sleep was gone.

Not even a second later you heard your window opening—mm the sound of the cries. Your tired, red eyes snapped open. You were met with a disheveled and drained Peter Parker. His hair sticking to the nape of his neck and forehead, sweat giving him a post-shower appearance. A large laceration marred his chest. Oh. Your stomach dropped, eyes widened with horror at the sight of the injury. It looked like he was scratched -- no, clawed by someone or something. With quick motion, you quickly peel away the sheets, disentangling yourself from its soft embrace, and quickly hurrying to his side.

“Peter” you gasped softly. A hand settles onto his latex-clad one, the other arm wrapping around his waist to support him as you guide both him towards your bed, placing him where you had lain just seconds before. “It’s not that bad, don’t worry about it, seriously, I mean you should see the o-” Peter quickly swallows his words upon seeing your stern glare. He slumps his head downwards as he sighs in defeat.

You sigh, telling him quietly that you'll be back soon. You left him for a few moments before coming back with a wet rag. Gently, you tug at the suit, trying to cautiously take it off him without aggravating his wounds. Soon, you were met with his bare torso, which is marked with a huge claw mark. You mentally steel yourself before starting to lightly clean around the injury, dabbing the wet rag gently onto his toned chest as you avoid his eyes. It’s not like you were trying to make him feel bad, but you were also trying to cope with the situation. You don’t know if you were mad, relieved, sad, maybe all of the above? Uncertain emotions swirl within you, but one fact anchors your turbulent thoughts: he is here, safe, and alive. That's what truly matters.

Peter seems to catch your avoided gaze, he studies you for a few minutes. Biting the inside of his cheek as he purses his lips to the side, trying to figure out how to approach this situation. He takes in your furrowed eyebrows, the way you’re also biting the inside of your cheek as you put all your strength into avoiding his worried amber eyes. He knew the consequences of inviting someone into his dangerous life, it wasn’t exactly a warm and inviting embrace, nor was it appealing, but what he didn’t fully grasp is how it truly hurts you, in more ways than one. “Y/N…” he whispered, rough hands that have been through so much and experienced so much, reaching for the comfort of your skin but you gently dodge his touch, leading to a sudden twinge of anguish in his heart. You give him a slight smile to distinguish any suspicion – I mean, you weren’t doing a good job at it – before you continued cleaning the dirt away from his injury. Peter’s eyebrows furrow while his lips start to droop downwards, a frown laid upon his lips at the rejection.

Biting the inside of your cheek harder to stop the tears from flowing down the curve of your cheekbones. You keep on wiping his cuts clean, overs and overs again, getting flashbacks of his visits from the last time you had to patch him up. Blurred vision starts taking over your eyesight and all you can think about is his pain, what he goes through, his blood, the thought of losing him, life without him, the many ‘what ifs.’ The many times he almost visited death's door. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, it was like a burning sensation bubbling in the back of your throat, the sadness was too hard to keep buried down now. You started shaking and before you knew it your sobs filled the walls and all your fears were coming out of you in the form of a liquid pea that contained so much. As soon as the warm liquid left a path down the curve of your cheeks, peter panicked and rose to action just like the hero he is—your hero.

Quickly sitting up and fixing his posture, which made him wince slightly from the injuries but he pushed through, his mind set on you and only you. He wipes the tear away with the pad of his thumb and takes the wet rag away from your slightly shaky grip; gently putting it on your nightstand before he lightly reaches both of his hands out and holds onto your wrists.

“I can't” You choke out a sob.

“Hey shh it’s okay baby, what’s wrong? You can’t, what? Tell me,” He coos.

He hunches down, trying to find those eyes of yours that he swears are otherworldly, but you just can’t. You can’t see him like this. Hurt. In pain. Suffering. It pains you that he is in this much pain -- you can’t. “Peter I just… ” he gently takes your face in his hand, caressing your cheekbones with his thumbs that are growing wet from your moist cheeks. His heart hurts from the sight of you crying, it conjures a deep-seated throb of pain in his eyes. “Look at me,” he whispers softly, gently nudging your head up with his right hand that is slowly descending down to grasp your chin as if you were a treasure, in a way you are, to peter you are his treasure, the main reason he even gets up or even tries, you are his rock, the only thing that makes sense in his life, and god does he love you, he loves you so much that his heart hurts. A quiet sigh escapes you, it sounds defeated. “Please,” He pleaded oh-so-gently, his gaze unwavering but patient. You sniffle before swallowing down a ball of saliva forming in your throat. As soon as you look up you are met with a pair of almond-shaped umber eyes that are filled with the utmost care, worry, and a hint of guilt.

“Talk to me..” he whispers desperately, his heart crushing at the pain you are experiencing, he just wants to take it all away with his soft whispers but he knows they will be in vain. Shakingly exhaling “I can’t,” you frantically shake your head. “Please baby…” A few silent beats pass before you finally look back up to find those amber eyes looking back at you with nothing but worry and sincerity.

You take a deep breath before swallowing deeply ”Peter...I just…” another beat passes. You take a sharp deep breath. “I just really wish you would take more care of yourself, I...I know you love saving people and fighting crime and trust me I love you deeply for that but you come home everyday with a new wound that’s even deadlier than the last one,” You pause, licking your salty lips. “aren’t you worried that maybe those people that you save won’t have anyone to save them if they’re local neighborhood spider-man won’t be there to save them anymore..?” You ask him, almost in a plea. Peter bites the inside of his cheek, thinking over your words with a solemn expression forming on his face that are littered in small cuts from his last escapades. He diverts his gaze to the floor and the room is quickly overcome with silence as he takes in your words, letting the heaviness of your words sink in.

The silence fills the room, it lets you both engulf into your own thoughts. Peter knew what it meant when he finally told you he was the unmasked superhero. He remembers spilling his deadly secret on a rooftop late at night, where you both were admiring the stars, laying on a blanket and talking about anything and everything. He remembers looking over at you and admiring the way the moon was cascading down on you, making you look even more angelic and completely ethereal.

Peter looks at you hurt and guilty and god do you hate that. Both of you guys shared a gaze that held so much that it made the room feel denser as the distant sounds of ambulances filtered through the slightly open window. A breeze wafts in, brushes against you both, causing small goosebumps to prick up on your skin. Peter grew to learn from his past relationships and the impact it had on his partner knowing he was Spider-Man, which is why it hurts him to know he is the one making you feel like this. A calloused hand slowly creeps up, gently grasping your cheek with the utmost care, as if you were made of glass and he was scared of causing further harm. “I know, I know,” He murmurs, his voice breaking while his toughened fingers absentmindedly traces the curve of your cheek. “It’s just so hard to stop when I know I can make a difference.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as his words sink in. Your heart breaks knowing how much his words are true and the scary reality that he won’t stop until crime is put to bed and everyone can roam around the streets freely. You shook your head, one hand gently grasping his wrist. “But at what price, Pete?” you ask ever-so-softly like the question itself was forbidden territory. Those eyes that he loves so deeply, look up into his eyes and it causes a gnawing feeling in his chest, almost making him wince from how hurt you look, how scared you look. Peter bites the inside of his cheek a bit harder while furrowing his brows, trying to think of what to tell you because he himself doesn’t know.

He takes a shaky breath, adjusting the grip on your face and slowly pulling your head a bit closer until both of your foreheads are resting against one another, a silent plea for understanding in his eyes. The brush of skin itself was tender-filled, telling a millions of words with just one movement. “I am just sick of all the crimes happening here and the cops not even doing anything about it.” Peter whispered, his voice a low blend of anger and helplessness. You could feel the raggedness of his breath, each exhale a testament to the battles he fought alone in the shadows of the city. The close proximity allowed you to see the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his eyes shuttered as if bracing against a storm of inner conflict. “Peter, I know you care – it’s one of the things I love about you,” you respond gently, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of hair from his clammy forehead. “But you can’t carry this burden alone. It’s too much for one person, even for Spider-Man.” Your voice was a soothing whisper, trying to pierce the armor of duty he wore so steadfastly.

Peter simply nodded, the weight of the world momentarily lightened by your understanding. You saw the fortress around his heart crumbling, if only just a bit. His eyes, usually so vibrant and full of life, now shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the constant battle between his duty and his love for you.

“I’m sorry…” Peter’s voice broke through the silence, each word heavy with remorse. He leans forwards, delicately kissing your forehead which grounds you and makes you close your eyes momentarily as you cherish the soft kiss that eases your heart just a bit. “I am sorry for not fully understanding what you are going through. I am so, so sorry,” He whispers into the dark night, the words flowing into the air as gently as ever. A few beats of silence pass while you take in his words. It gave your weary heart time to mend. Peter leaned back slightly so he could get a better look at you, his gaze locked with yours, conveying a depth of sincerity and vulnerability. “I’m truly, deeply, sorry” He whispers once more before he starts to softly press kisses underneath where your ear and jaw meet, your cheeks, forehead, nose, the wrinkles in the middle of your eyebrows, smoothing them out with the pad of his thumb, and finally kissing your lips, so delicately, it makes you want to cry even more.

The kiss was so deliberate, it was a bundle of promises that his lips sealed to keep, an abundance of love, tenderness, deep affection and care that runs so deeply into his veins that it affects his touches and kisses, he can’t help but pour it all into the kiss, he just wanted you to know how sorry he is. He wanted you to know that he never meant to hurt you, whether it was indirect or direct. It makes your heart flutter and reassures your timid heart. Slowly one hand moves to cup the left side of your face as his other hand descends down towards the side of your neck as peter tastes the saline on your moist-tear lips, but even that doesn’t stop him from pressing gentle kisses against your lips, it only fuels his love, turning the kisses even more tender. Each kiss conveys a message of “I’m sorry, I love you, please know I love you.” You can taste the metallic on his lips as your lips were caressing his back as equally gently and lovingly, your kisses filled with a message of “It’s okay, I love you.”

Peter slowly pulls back from the kiss, his mouth hovers over yours, his breath fanning over your lips, noses rubbing against each other in the tenderest manner ever. Both of your eyes were still closed, taking in everything, cherishing one another. His right hand moving back up to cradle your face, both hands cradling your cheeks and caressing them with the pad of his thumbs in a feather-like caress. You nuzzle your cheek against his right hand, feeling the rough and calloused palm that you grew to admire and adore. It always provided you with such care and comfort, always caressing or reaching out to gently touch you. Both of your hands now encircled around his wrist, caressing the inside of it so softly that it makes Peter almost melt.

Slowly, Peter opens his eyes. His amber gaze held nothing but love and the utmost care. Shortly after he opened his eyes, your eyes opened as well. Both of you search each other’s eyes as a white noise of admiration passes you both. After a moment of silent communion, the air between you both thickens with unspoken words and shared feelings, Peter finally speaks, his voice a soft murmur against the quiet room. “I can’t promise there won’t be more nights like this,” he says, his honesty laying bare the truth of both of your lives entwined with danger and uncertainty. “But I promise you, no matter how many crazy guys in suits I have to fight, I’ll always do my best to come back… to this, to us.”

This promise, simple yet profound, strikes a chord within you. It’s not a heroic declaration from Spider-Man, but a heartfelt vow from Peter Parker, the boy behind the mask, the one you fell in love with. His words acknowledge the reality of his life—danger is part of the package, yet he’s equally committed to your shared life, to you, and he isn’t going anywhere.

You feel a surge of mixed emotions: fear for the dangers he faces, gratitude for his honesty, and love for the person he is. “And I’ll be here,” you say, matching his tone with a blend of seriousness and affection, “not just to patch you up and be your personal nurse, but to love you.” The corners of his lips quirk up, his eyes twinkling with love as he takes in your words. He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, a silent vow of his commitment. “Thank you,” he whispers, gratitude resonating in his voice, “for everything.”

“Of course,” You whispered.

The two of you stay like that, embraced in the warmth of your love for one another, finding comfort in the silence that now speaks volumes. The world outside, with its chaos and challenges, seems momentarily distant as you both cherish this safe haven of understanding and love you’ve created together.

#andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #the amazing spider man #andrew garfield #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #spiderman #tasm andrew garfield #light angst #fluff #peter parker fluff #tasm fluff

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