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punkeccentricenigma · 6 months

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Hello Hello Hello!

I love ur work!!!! I was wondering, can you do rise Mikey x touch starved! Reader? But the moment they get affection they go “OH HELL NAW” “DON’T BELITTLE ME”

Mikey with Touch Starved!Reader

Relationship status: Romantic

Reader prounouns: They/Them

Words: 957

TW: Some grammatical errors because english is not my first language.

Author's note: I apologize for the short one-shot; I didn't feel like to write something more or elaborating, especially since there's honestly no room for it (it would have turned into a mess). I'm doing my best to write all the requests as well as possible. Is there anything else to add? It's hard to say; I don't want to dwell on my problems. Enjoy.

"Here, hold your popcorn," Dark eyes of the Box Turtle first rested on the smiling person above him, then on the light, salty food arranged in a transparent bowl. His smile widened as he took the container from [Y.N]'s hands. "Thanks, sunshine!"

"No problem," they replied with a soft, elastic smile, and settled comfortably next to Michelangelo on the dark couch in the [Y.N]'s living room. It was dark, but some lamps cast a yellow ambient light on the walls; it was the coziest atmosphere the couple loved. "So, what do you want to watch? Some anime? An American movie? Maybe some FNAF gameplay?" Their subtle gestures amused the teenager.

"That last one works for me." Without waiting, the boy started munching on popcorn. As [Y.N] browsed through YouTube, he observed them. It wasn't difficult, as the person theirself was more focused on the TV screen than on him.

Mikey furrowed his brows slightly as he began to contemplate. Would it be a good idea to cuddle? I mean, he's the most touchy-feely of the siblings, always hugging someone, holding hands, or just putting a hand on the shoulder—without that, he won't survive! But with [Y.N], it was a bit different...

The [color]eyed willingly embraced with a smile, but the turtle felt that they would desire this closeness for longer. However, their body stiffened every time the boy took the initiative. Would it be too much if he tried it now, even though they had just started their relationship? They were alone now, without the company of his brothers or their common friends.

Finally, he blinked a couple of times when he noticed some random gameplay on the screen. "Everything okay?" He looked to his left and noticed a slightly worried expression on his partner's face.

He quickly nodded, smiling again. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine, easy as pie! Um... I mean!" Why did he have to pick up such nonsensical statements from Leonardo! But he relaxed his muscles when he heard a giggle from [Y.N], who glanced back at the screen. He quietly released his breath, playing with his fingers a bit.

He bit the center of his cheek, replaying his previous thoughts in a loop. After all, it was part of his love language! **sink or swim.**

With a slight uncertainty, he moved even closer to them, and before they could react, they felt a vibrating warmth around their body.

[Y.N]’s cheeks were dusted with a rosy blush as they realized that their boyfriend had hugged them. After a moment of silence, they chuckled and patted Michelangelo on the shell. "Okay, okay," their voice brought a wider smile to the ninja's face.

When it dawned on [Y.N] that this wasn't just a regular, casual hug, they started to feel a bit nervous, sensing the usual muscle freeze that was typical for them. "M-Mikey? You know, the video is still playing..."

"And?"

This worried the teenager a bit. they felt strangely good and awful at the same time. Eventually, the person pulled away from Mikey's embrace, retreating to the other end of the couch. "No, no, no...! Don't dismiss me!"

The turtle's face showed shock and surprise, though a hint of sadness lingered in his mind. "What?" Their eyes narrowed, catching the innocence in the boy's expression. It felt silly, so they averted their gaze.

"You hugged me for too long," heyt confessed quietly, furrowing brows. The boy adjusted himself, trying to better understand.

"Well, I thought it wouldn't bother you," he replied. Oops, did he overdo it? "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, really," they added quickly. Now what? **Now what?** Maybe they overreacted? Blast it!

Mikey looked at them with a remorseful expression, trying to understand their feelings. "I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable," he said sincerely.

The teenager gazed at him, seeing the honesty in his eyes. "It's not you, it's me... sometimes I'm a bit weird."

Mikey tilted his head slightly, feeling the ends of his bandana tickle his arm.

"Weird in a sense... you know, I'm not used to this touch."

"But we hug you all the time."

"Well, I know, but it's different... I got used to you guys, to your chaotic touches! But this... well, I don't know how to say it..." Single, crystalline tears appeared in [Y.N]'s eyes, which Mikey immediately noticed.

"Hey, hey! It's okay, you don't have to explain! I won't cause you any discomfort now, okay?"

"But I want to."

The teenager could see the confusion on Angelo's face, as if it were literally lifted from a typical anime. If it weren't for such a heavy atmosphere, they would have laughed. "I want us to hug, just, you know, slowly to the purpose."

After a moment, an imaginary light bulb appeared above the boy, and he smiled slightly, trying to ease the tension. "So, you're Touch-starved!"

His partner leaned back slightly, raising their eyebrows. "Yes, I didn't think you knew that term... sorry for the trouble."

"None of your concerns are trouble for me!" His cute smile brought a renewed blush to [Y.N] and the famous butterflies in their stomach. "We need to communicate everything!"

The teenager took a deep breath, feeling relieved. "You're right... Thanks, Mikey. You're the best."

"Oh, don't exaggerate!" It was a lie; Michelangelo basked in the compliment. "So, now that we know what's going on, shall we try again?"

The teenager smiled and felt that they were starting to break free from their own thoughts. "You know, for now, let's try holding hands for a bit longer."

The boy nodded slightly, getting closer to his partner. With a graceful move, he grabbed their hand and squeezed it.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x y/n #rottmnt x you #rise mikey x reader #rottmnt x reader #touch starved reader

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tessatales · 1 year

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Touch starved ❤️Reader❤️

A/N: Tagging the wonderful @copper-boom as they were the one to A) suggested Touch Starved: Reader edition. As well as the one to request Peter to be first! I’m not sure if I’ll be tagging this on the same master page as a part 2 to Peters or putting on a brand new master list- we shall see!

Peter Parker x F!Reader.

Warnings: None

Themes: touch starved reader (duh), Peter tries to help, soft boy, pining, kinda hurt comfort but not?

*Your POV*

You hit the punchbag harder, your bare hands making satisfying slapping sounds as you threw all your weight into each blow; the pain radiating through your arms as your muscles began to complain.

“Woah Y/N, I hope you don’t have anyone in mind when your hitting that” Peter said, skidding to a stop in the gym doorway. You merely glance in Peters direction as you keep hitting the bag, your force becoming almost unbearable.

“Hey! Y/N stop! You’ve got to be hurting yourself by now!” Peter protested, the concern on his face making you want to throw the punchbag across the room.

You weren’t sure why you were so angry, but you’d been feeling the buildup for weeks. You’d put the issue down to the chaos that had erupted in the tower as of late. The people inside constantly being sent off on one dangerous mission or another. In fact, looking back you realised that it had been nearly a month since there and been more than just you and maybe one other avenger in the tower at any one time.

“Y/N that’s enough!” Peter said, his voice booming through your daydreamed filled focus. Without your wanting them to, your hands stilled and you became suddenly aware of the sticky white web that now held your hands in places.

“That’s so uncalled for!” You shout, looking at the offending spider boy as he made his way to you.

“You completely blacked out on me Y/N, I said your name like 5 times and nothing! And look at your hands” Peter said, coming round to stand in front of the bag. You looked down, noticing now how the webs were tinted slightly pink where they’d made contact with your split knuckles.

“Oh…” you whisper, only feeling the sting from your hands now you’ve been made to notice them. Peter looks at you with worry as he peels of the sticky strands from your injured fingers.

“What’s going on with you Y/N? I’ve never seen you like this before..” Peter said, looking you in the eye as he plucked the final web strand away. You look away.

“ I don’t know, I’ve been feeling this pressure building up inside me since everyone was called off on different missions.” You confessed, toeing invisible dirt with the tip of your shoe. Peter placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Your lonely.” Peter said, his voice tinged with sadness. You look at him sharply. Lonely? In the many hours she’d spent pondering her feelings, she’d never considered lonely.

“I mean I guess. It’s not like I’ve actually been alone here, there always been at least one of the guys here at a time” You say, trailing off as you try to remember how many times you saw Steve or Bruce or any of the other when they’d been here.

“Come with me” Peter said, taking your sore hands delicately as he walks you out of the gym. His footsteps silent as he guilds you through the tower and into the main living quarters”

“What are you-?” You begin to ask, your question silenced as you see the living room.

“I came to the gym to ask if you wanted to watch a movie with me.” Peter said as he stood you in front of the sofa, placing his hands lightly on your shoulders as he made you sit.

“Apart from when you’ve come to visit me and aunt May or Happy’s told me someone’s come home from a mission, you’ve been on your own. Your sure to get touch starved in that time.” Peter said as he’d made his way to the first aid cupboard, his back to you as he got the correct items out for your knuckles.

“Touch starved? I though you said I was lonely?” You reply, frowning at the web slinger as he came to sit beside you.

“You’re lonely and touch starved dummy. How could you not be? Not only do you live with 6 other people on a normal day, but some of those people are very affectionate. Name me one instance where Wanda hasn’t hugged you or something when you’ve talked to her?” Peter said as he got to work on your hands.

You barely felt the sting as you recalled your conversations with the different avengers, realising quickly you seemed to get touched a lot. Whether is was Wanda’s hugs or Natasha’s affectionate shoulder punches; hell, even Vision would pat you on the head when you’d answer one of his questions. You were hit with the sudden realisation that your mood was purely because of touch. Or the lack of it.

“Ooh…”

“And the penny finally drops” Peter says, finishing up on the last bandage. You stare at the neat arrangements of fabric covering your now aching hands.

“Thank you.” You say, looking up at Peter sheepishly, he merely shrugged.

“Don’t mention it. Now what shall we watch?”

********

*Peter’s POV*

Peter was pretty sure Y/N had fallen asleep as soon as the movie had started, her body sagging sleepily against his shoulder as he’d watched the films opening scene. Y/N’s head lolled against Peters shoulder at an uncomfortable looking angle.

“Hey, Y/N, wake up. Time to go to bed” Peter tried, nudging the sleeping girl lightly.

“Nuhh mph” Y/N said, her face contorting as she spoke in her sleep. Peter laughed softly.

As carefully as he could, Peter got up, holding Y/N’s head as he moved. With careful movements and some help from his webs, Peter moved a pillow to sit comfortably under Y/N’s head, a blanket shooting it’s way on the end of a web from the other side of the room as he lay her comfortably.

Satisfied she was comfortable, Peter stood up, aiming to make his get away silent.

“Petey?” Y/N mumbled, her face scrunched up in a way Peter thought was horrendously adorable.

“Yes?” Peter said, trying to ignore the way her nickname for him makes his chest feel. Without opening her eyes, Y/N reached out blindly to grasp Peters trouser leg.

“Stay” she said simply, her grip tight against the fabric of his trousers. Peter chuckled softly.

“There’s nowhere for me to sit” Peter whispered as he detangled her fingers from his clothes. Crouching down, Peter moved a stray lock of hair from Y/N’s sleeping face. She sighed softly at the touch. With great effort, Y/N began to move, shuffling her body until there was a Peter sized space behind her.

“Umph” Y/N mumbled like a triumph. Her face portraying no sign she was doing any of this consciously. Peter scratched the back of his head. Looking around for something he wasn’t sure of before giving in and removing his shoes. As lightly as he could, Peter tiptoed behind Y/N, moving carefully to lie directly behind her.

Peters heart raced. He’d know that his motives for a movie hadn’t been completely innocent, knowing Happy and the Avengers were away had given him a chance at alone time with the youngest tower occupant. But he hadn’t expected to end up like this.

How fast will I be thrown out the window if one of them came back early? Peter wondered as he half lay there, his head on his elbow as he looked down at Y/N’s sleeping form.

As if she knew she was being watched, Y/N moved, rolling over until she was facing Peter, engulfing him in the masses of blanket as she went. Peter froze as he felt Y/N’s bandaged had snake it’s way across his middle, the hand his head wasn’t resting in held high like he was at gunpoint.

Peter stayed like that for several minutes, feeing his muscles begin to cramp up at the awkward position. Eventually, he moved, slowly sliding down until Y/N’s head sat under his chin and his arms had found their comfortable spot under Y/N’s head and resting lightly over her blanket clad middle.

“Okay, don’t freak out” Peter said silently as he felt Y/N cuddle closer to him. Ever sense in his body screaming that this was the best and worst idea of his life.

I’m cuddling with my crush

The avengers are gonna kill me

Thoughts race through his head as he felt Y/N’s steady breathing. Eventually though, Peters worrying was overthrown by the warmth of Y/N’s body and the quite murmuring as she talked in her sleep.

In the end, Peter decided to relax, squashing the thought of consequences as he focused on the girl in his arms. He’d come here to spend time with her, to help her feel less alone during this mess of a time she was facing. And if hugging her while she slept was what she needed, Peter was happy to give it.

As Peter began to drift into unconsciousness, he dreamed of a time where this was his usual routine, napping on the sofa with Y/N in his arm, the movie playing softly in the background as he held the girl he was sure he was falling in love with.

#avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #bucky x reader #tony x reader #dr strange #dr strange x reader #bruce banner imagine #clint barton x reader #loki x y/n #touchstarved peter #touchstarvedmcu #touch starved reader #peter x reader #peter parker #spiderman

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beecanons · 1 year

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Percy with a touch starved reader

percy x touch starved reader headcanons!

you for whichever reason are touch starved, maybe youre a physically affectionate person by nature and didnt get that growing up but either way you crave physical touch a lot

percy on the other hand doesnt, not that he doesnt like physical touch, he just doesnt crave it like you do he'll initiate things, like putting a hand on someone's shoulder etc, he doesnt shy from touch so he has no issue with a partner who is physically affectionate

he'll likely do something casual like hold your hand while youre walking and you being touch starved, you melt right into him, leaning on him if you can.

he'll notice the change and ask if youre alright but wont make a big deal out of it he doesnt mind if you feel the need to lean on him for support or just want to be a little more affectionate than holding hands

but if you ask him for more affection, like ask him for a kiss he'll give you a quick kiss in the cheek, temple or forehead and keep going doesnt quite understand that youre touch starved

he's not exactly shy from pda, but he is a more private person and would rather give you more affection and touch when youre alone but he'll still give you plenty of little touches throughout the day/in public

when he catches on that youre touch starved he has no problem making sure you always get enough touch when you need it hugs, kisses, letting you lean on him whatever you'd like hes happy to show you how much he loves you

hes very sweet with it, he'll try to be subtle about it but he's really not everyone can see how affectionate you guys are and scanlan will make suggestive jokes about it

he loves giving you the little touches through the day though a hand on your shoulder or hand in yours a quick kiss a hand on the side of your face when hes making sure youre okay he doesnt realize it but he finds it very comforting too

at the end of the day he will be very happy to let you cuddle up to him wrap his arms around you and have you lay your head on his chest if its been a bad day and you dont mind it he'll lay his head on your chest instead

you both find touch reassuring and comforting it just doesnt bother him if he doesnt get too much touch for a while he will miss your touch after a while but he's happy with giving you a kiss or hug then he's fine he knows its not the same for you though and he's fine giving you as much touch as you need when he can

if you get split up for a while and finally reunite and have a minute he'll open his arms and/or pull you in close and hold you maybe take a sec or two to kiss you but is very happy to just hold you and make sure youre okay now that you have a minute

if he gets overwhelmed by the touch he'll ask carefully for a bit of space for a bit will still want you nearby or needs to know where you'll be but he will need a bit to just not be touched doesnt mind if you hold his hand he'll just ask you not to hug him for a bit. it doesnt last the whole day, when he's overwhelmed by touch he just needs a breather might be a bit too much going on and needs a little walk or fresh air so he can process but its all fine

over all he'd be happy showing you plenty of physical affection in his own way its a win win, he can be physically affectionate and youre touch starved he loves spoiling his partner and showing how much he cares and loves that you trust his touch and you melt into him when he gives it to you

expect a lot of teasing from the party for a while until your affectionate relationship becomes just apart of things they will tease and joke for a while they mean well though, they'll tell you guys how cute it is

requested by @syth-de-rolo !

feel free to share your headcanons or request more!

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yaboyhoney · 1 year

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Nanu x reader with a touch starved reader

Nanu x Touch Starved Reader

You would think Nanu here would be the touch starved guy but he's actually the opposite. Being a cat dad, he's pretty handy with people and Pokemon. You definitely gotta be on hands with people when you're handling multiple Meowths or a drunk dude every now and then.

Nanu knows about you, at least knew about you from a police case a couple years ago. You went through hell from an abusive ex.

He helped you through the healing process as much as he could but when he became Kahuna, he couldn't be as much involved in his former detective work. But you became his neighbor at some point after you moved out. He saw the relief on your face when you realized he was close by, gratefully telling him you feel safer with him around.

He obviously wanted you back then but knew better than to run on impulse. You were hurt. He helped ease the pain by providing comfort consistently.

It started slow at first but he always asked for your permission. Asking to hold your hands if he saw you were on the verge of a panic attack, asking to give you a hug in case you needed more comfort, things like that.

It's hard to react well at first but because he's always careful, you feel safe trusting him with physical contact. When he holds your hands, he gives you the best advice. Then he makes sure you get something to eat, drink, and a good hug after if you allow it. Then he makes sure you get back home safe.

Then one day, you ask if you can stay. He doesn't sleep with you that night for obvious reasons even if you wanted that. He knows it might hurt you. But he cuddles you that night, on the couch.

When you start to cry from the physical intimacy of what you two were doing, he pauses the movie and lets you cry. Lets you bawl if you need to.

You fall asleep from the mental exhaustion and Nanu makes sure you sleep comfortably, with your belongings nearby, a good pillow and blanket. You're warm, safe, and though you weren't aware of how much he loved you at that point, you felt at home.

The next morning, he offers to help you find a therapist. He' s a good guy for a grumpy dude.

#nanu x reader #touch starved reader #my writing

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writer-komaru · 2 years

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“Clingy!character x reader this”…. “Touch starved!character x reader that”

What about Clingy!Touch-Starved!Reader x character, huh? Here are some HC’s!~

Characters: Ryota & Izayoi

(Warning- Spoilers for despair and future arcs!!!!)

You’re feeling clingy? You’re touch starved? Well, he’s the best person for the job!

If you ever come up to him one day after school and just wrap your arms around his and smoosh your face into his shoulder, he will automatically assume something is wrong.

“Are you okay, cupcake? Did something happen? “

All you did to answer him with mumble into his arm, holding on tighter.

He was quick to catch in since you normally didn’t display this much affection, let alone semi in public.

He swiftly scooped you up in his arms and presided to carry you all the way to his house, and I mean alll the way back, this guy doesn’t even let you walk one bit when your tired, and he has the strength to do so as well.

Once you got into his room, the fun part, and the part you had been waiting for, is finally here!

He immediately let you change into some comfy clothes, (with him in the same room bc I just think he is the kind of boyfriend that is not only eye chill with that kind of stuff but also makes you feel chill enough to actually do it,) lays you on the bed, and persisted presided to cuddle you in any way you wanted! Spoon? Sure! He will hold you closely from behind or let you hold him if you want! Sweetheart’s cradle? Definitely! He will rub his hand up and down you back, basking in the feeling of your face nuzzling against him. On top of him? His favorite! He will gently play with your hair as you stare up at him with sleepy eyes.

“Whenever you feel like cuddling, just come to me, sweetie. My arms will always be open for you, no matter what.”

Get ready to spend the rest of the day in bed while Izayoi cuddles, kisses, and massages you to make you feel good <3 he’ll do anything if it’s for you!

Well, you and Ryota both have something in common. You’re both critically touch starved.

And you know what happened when two clingy and touch-starved people get together? You cuddle. 24-7, all day long. I’m not even kidding.

You’ll wake up to his small body pressed against you, his face nestled in between you shoulder and your neck. You get to stay home today? Well, that’s fantastic! You both will spend the day either cuddling while Ryota animates, spending the day in bed, or following each other around the house, clinging on.

You may think this guy will be the nervous type, and for a bit, he was. He stutters, he’s shared easily, all traits of someone who would be nervous. But surprisingly, he it really doesn’t take him long to get used to affection. Don’t get me wrong, he was nervous at first since he never really got that kind of affection from anyone. But after a while, it became another one of his life-time obsessions, along with animating.

You have to go out? Well… he isn’t the happiest about the idea. He really just wants to spend as much time with you as possible, it really makes him feel loved, something he feels as though he has been lacking for a while. But if it’s really important, he will just say…

“Oh, okay. Come… back soon. I’ll be waiting for you.”

He paused between a few of his words, holding back the urge to just say you should stay home today. But as he sees the door close in front of him, he regrets not saying so.

He is literally like a puppy when you leave the house. Most of the time he will go straight back to working on his anime, working 10% harder and faster than normal to make himself feel better.

But if he is reeeeaaallly missing you he will literally wait by the door. He won’t call just in case you are busy doing something, or is you are driving, he doesn’t want to put you in any danger.

Oh, and don’t get me started about worrying. You think Izayoi is a worrier? He is practically aloof when compared to Ryota. He worries about you all the time!! After everything that happened during the future and despair arcs, he feels so much guilt in himself, even if his friends had excepted him. So even just the thought of putting you in any danger, no matter how small, scares the life out of him.

Make sure to give him extra cuddles and kisses when you get home. The boy needs it.

#ryota x reader #danganronpa #danganronpa x y/n #danganronpa future arc #danganronpa despair arc #despair arc #future arc #ryota mitarai #Ryota mitarai x reader #izayoi x reader #sonosuke izayoi #sonosuke Izayoi x reader #mitarai x reader #Sonosuke x reader #clingy reader #touch starved #touch starved reader #fluff #Danganronpa fluff

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writemessybleach · 8 months

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falling asleep with Grimmjow while stoned. you get extremely stoned. it lasts for such a long time. it's kind of insane. by late in the night, you're tired but still somehow awake, but just barely. you didn't know how touch-starved you were until leaning against him on accident. it's not like you're not close but you're just friends, and maybe it just annoys you that if you even breathe near a man too much, everyone suddenly thinks he's your boyfriend. the relief and pleasure of this touch makes you nervous. what if it's a secret crush and you don't know? what if it leads to things you don't want? no, it's fine. he doesn't want that stuff either. you let your head rest against his shoulder when you feel too tired to hold your head up. he hasn't stopped using his phone since you brushed against him on the couch. leaning on him feels like inviting him to do something you don't want. or, maybe it doesn't mean anything to him. you ready yourself to lean yourself in closer against him. his sweatshirt is warm, his shoulder warm. it smells like him: earthy and clear. he makes no effort to move your head away from his shoulder. no twitch, no tense; just a deep long sigh that you can hear with your ear pressed against him. in a short time, you're asleep and so is he. the tangled mess you end up in throughout the night is healing. waking up like this is magical.

#thoughts to think about my chaotic bestie #grimmjow jaegerjaquez imagine #aromantic grimmjow #aromantic reader #grimmjow and reader #platonic ship #queerplatonic ship #queerplatonic reader #touch starved reader #friendship with grimmjow #he does things bc he feels good doing them; not bc he's romantically or sexually interested

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beauleifu · 1 year

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Chapters: 15/? Fandom: LEGO Monkie Kid Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Summary:

Birthday parties. You're given a gun and thank the stars it's not a real weapon. You're also given a chance to tell Syntax the truth yet again . . . but you don't. Turns out you're in more danger of yourself than you are of anyone else in Megapolis. The guilty die hard.

CW: language

P.S. - Yea, the fortune cookie was actually inspired by an actual reading I got once, so credit to the business lmao, also pls ignore the black friday reference dont take offense it's late and i had so much fun writing this chaos

#lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk syntax #syntax x reader #lmk story #heartstrings #fluff #soft #chaos #ocs #lmk mayor #shit gets crazy at night when you have a gun #see i told you Y/N dies #romance #sleep deprived reader #touch starved reader #you need a hug #syntax needs a hug #thanks for reading!

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cassiopeiasdaughter · 8 months

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Hiiii pretty star,

Me again.

📝Can I get a little something with Theo and the prompt cuddles after being touch starved? I feel that with his mother gone and his father being who he is, Theodore deserves all the love and snuggles in this world. Thank you 🤍

"My house of stone, your ivy grows, and now I'm covered in you"

Theodore Nott, despite popular belief -mostly his-, was easy to love. Your relationship was still fresh, you two were slowly getting to know eachother; favorite hobbies, habits. And most importantly, each-others love language.

Your favorite way to love someone is by touching them. Kisses, holding hands, looping your arm around them, playing with their hair; that is how you show love, and it is how you show Theo you love him.

He however is not used to that. You had suspected so one day, when you two were walking, casually talking to eachother about your day; out of habit you grabbed Theos hand, lacing your fingers together. His hand tensed at first, as if he was entirely unfamiliar with this feeling, and lost his train of thought, mumbling words and excuses until he grew used to your touch and picked up the conversation from where he left it.

Your suspicion was confirmed one night. You were tired and stressed; homework was piling up, quidditch practice was more constant and you had taken up way too many extracurricular activities. You ran straight to Theos dorm, needing the comfort of his presence to ground you, calm you, help you recharge your energy and get ready for the days to come.

You found him in his bed, with a book you had recommended to him, in his hands. You quickly walked towards him and he greeted you, lifting his eyes from the pages, “Hello.”, he said with smile “Hi.”, you mumbled back, way too tired to pretend you weren’t.

“What’s wrong?” He asked as you changed out of your clothes and into an old sweatshirt of his.

“Exhausting day. Exhausting week.”, you replied with a deep sigh and then settled next to him in his bed.

You rested your head in the crook of his neck and looped your arm around his shoulder, breathing him in “I want to stay here forever.” , you mumbled with your eyes closed.

But, instead of a kiss on your forehead or his arm hugging your back you felt him grow tense and his heart beating really fast against his ribcage. You raised your head worried, and looked at his face “I- am I crashing you?”

“Ah- no…no, this is new to me, that's all.”, he quickly said nervously

“Oh, I am sorry, I didn’t think-“, you exclaimed and moved your body off to give him space.

He stopped you, quickly and guided you back in his arms, “No, don’t go, I like it.” he whispered in your hair. His body was more comfortable now, moulding into yours, his muscles weren’t tense anymore and his limbs shifted to keep you close to him.

“Stay.”, he whispered in your hair and you let yourself close your eyes, and drift off, finally able to relax, in the arms of the person you craved all week.

After that night he simply couldn’t let you go. His hand is always clasped in yours, or settled in the small of your back or around your shoulders. He kisses your forehead goodnight and greets you with a peck on the lips every morning. And his favorite; whenever life feels heavy, he will lay on your chest and let you play with his hair, causing him to forget all his troubles.

He is learning how to love and be loved and his favorite thing is that he is learning with you.

fin 🤎

celebrate my academic hardships & Theodore Nott masterlist

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott imagine #theo nott imagine #theo nott x reader #fluff #touch starved Theo

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ohdeerfully · 2 months

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I just read one of your works with Alastor ears and KAKAISKSNSMSDHJSJ IT WAS ADORABLE, can you write one about the reader finding out Alastor has a tail and he's all flustered and nervous about it because well HES THE RADIO DEMON HES SCARY and he can't be scary when his tail wags when the reader praises him (MAKE IT WHOLESOME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE)

HELLOOO I LOVE ALASTOR TAIL!! tail + more sleepytime = deadly fic combo THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST!

Silky Fur

alastor x reader (comfort/fluff) TW: none? join my discord!

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After a year of being together, you and Alastor had fallen into a rather steady nightly routine, though sometimes he was too busy with Satan Knows What and would leave the hotel and you wondering if he would come back to you for the night. When this happened, you often didn’t see him till the next morning—or, even the afternoon.

Lately, that “sometimes” had turned into every night. For the past week. And it was starting to make you feel… kind of shitty, you couldn’t even lie to yourself. You spent so many hours reasoning and making excuses for him—he was an Overlord, after all. No wonder he was so busy! Plus, you just so happened to fall into his life; you shouldn’t expect him to just give up his duties for you.

You looked at the ceiling, arms spread out on either side of you as you tried to convince yourself to stop feeling bad for the sixth night in a row. You missed him next to you, and started to find it harder and harder to get to sleep without his company. You craved him, and you wondered if he craved you in the same way—if he even missed you.

You sat up with a groan after a few more minutes, letting your feet dangle off the side of the bed. It was pointless, you decided, just laying down doing nothing. If you couldn’t sleep, you might as well go do something productive. You threw on a hoodie and made your way down the long corridor, and then down the steps.

This late in the night, the sky had an eerie red glow. It filtered through the curtains of the large hotel windows, casting long, sharp shadows that made your skin crawl if you looked too long. No matter how long you lived in Hell, you never got used to the unfriendly ambience. You had to remind yourself that you were safe in the hotel. You stuffed your hands in the pockets of your hoodie and looked towards your feet as you walked.

There was some paperwork regarding a couple residents you promised Charlie you would help her process. So, you decided you could get a headstart on finishing them, although you didn’t really see the point in the paperwork itself; it was all just going to be horrible criminal records that Charlie would try desperately to ignore.

You opted for the hotel lobby over the cramped office, spreading out the papers across the low coffee table. It wasn’t very comfortable, but you were glad to at least be out of the room.

You sat for a mind numbing amount of time, only listening to the ticking of a faint clock as you processed the information for the residents. It was times like this that made you want to curse Alastor for refusing to allow any sort of modern technology into the hotel. You get it, of course, with Vox and all—but, man, what you wouldn’t give to just have an easy spreadsheet to type this all into.

If you weren’t tired before, you sure were now. Your eyes drug across the papers, blearily taking in the information. You blinked heavily, trying to rid your vision of the tears of exhaustion. You slumped back with a sigh, the pages loosely held in your hands as you rested your eyes for a moment.

Bad idea.

Almost immediately, sleep overtook you, papers slipping through your fingers and drifting across the floor in every direction as your consciousness faded away.

You woke again when you felt your body jostling, then suddenly lifted. It took a minute to wake up enough to peer through cracked eyelids and see that you were being carried up the hotel stairs. You felt familiar arms cradling your back and legs, and the firmness of a chest that your head rested against.

You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. That staticy feeling in the air and prickling your skin was enough to know. You let your body relax again, but couldn’t seem to catch sleep again.

He hummed a gentle tune as he walked, using his knee to turn the doorknob to your shared room. He pushed it open with his shoulder and walked you in.

You felt the plush sheets of your bed as he sat you down, but you pushed yourself back up into a sitting position to look at him. Stare at him. You hoped he could pick apart your emotions just by the way you glared. If he did, he made no attempt at asking what was wrong, and merely looked back at you with his slightly glowing red eyes and wide grin.

“You’ll hurt your back, falling asleep on the couch like that!” He started to chastise you playfully. He turned his back to you and opened up a drawer against the wall.

“Where have you been, Al,” You asked, ignoring his comment. You looked towards your feet. It was hard questioning him, because he didn’t take much seriously, no matter how serious you felt. There was a lump in your throat as you spoke.

“Busy as usual, my dear,” He replied in a sing-song voice. A quiet jazz tune emanated from the microphone atop his cane. Or, would that make it a radio? Both, probably. He rummaged through that drawer for a moment, before pulling out a thin, plain shirt and fuzzy pajama pants.

He walked back over to you, and you noticed the way his eyes flicked across your face, examining your expression. Still, he said nothing. You’d like to think he felt guilty, and didn’t want to admit it—but, truly, you doubted it. He wasn’t one for guilt, after all.

“I’ve been pretty lonely for a week, you know,” You said, folding your arms. “I’d at least like a better explanation.”

You allowed your arms to fall when he pulled at your elbows. You lifted them above your head as he gingerly gripped the edges of your hoodie and pulled it off. He quickly replaced it with the shirt he had grabbed earlier. He followed similar motions with your pants.

As angry as you were, you appreciated intimate moments like this with him. Moments so close, so vulnerable and bare, but still comfortable and sensitive. It was weird, with him being the Radio Demon and all.

“Maintaining turfs and deals is exhausting work, ma moitie, and there’s a few souls that haven’t been keeping up with their side of our bargains,” Alastor explained rather indifferently. Though, you could tell by the strain in his smile and the clipping in the radio static that he was trying his best to be delicate and honest—as possible as that is with Alastor.

“Just– tell me something next time, at least, ‘kay?” You felt embarrassed by the practically begging tone in your voice, but Alastor didn’t seem to notice.

“I suppose it is wrong for a gentleman to leave his lady questioning,” Alastor joked. He meant it, though, and he carefully smoothed your hair in an attempt at comfort.

He stepped away from you, and you frowned at the sudden space. The frown was quickly replaced by a wide smile when you noticed Alastor removing his sharp coat and carefully hanging it by the door.

What a treat, you thought, as you watched him discard the layers of his outfit. Your mouth fell open when he turned his back to you.

“You have a tail?” You asked. Alastor’s ears twitched back for a moment, stiff.

Clear as day, right in front of your eyes, was a tail you had somehow never seen before. Delicate, fluffy, and red with black—just like his ears. You couldn’t stop the stunned laugh that escaped your mouth.

“Regretfully, I do,” Alastor responded. He quickly turned back to face you. His nose was scrunched in disdain and his lips were curled in a frustrated smile. “Don’t talk about it. To anybody.”

You laughed again and quickly beckoned him towards the bed. He complied and sat down next to you. He had noticeably sat in such a way that his waist was angled to keep his tail out of sight.

You pouted at him, wordlessly motioning towards what you both knew you wanted.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “I’m not a pet, nor a toy,” He said roughly. The static in his voice was heavy. You knew he was embarrassed, and that made your grin all the wider. It probably rivaled his own harsh smile.

“I’ll never, ever, ever ask again, ever,” You promised, holding out your pinky. Alastor’s eyes rolled at the motion. Alternatively, he held out his palm for you to shake.

You eyed his hand, then looked back up to him. You jerked your pinky towards him, urging him to take it instead. You weren’t about to actually bind your promise in a real deal. You knew in, like, a week you would probably beg him to see his tail again.

“How incredibly childish,” He sighed. Still, he curled his hand into a fist and connected his sharp pinky with your own. “I won’t forget about this.” He threatened.

“Yeah, yeah, show me the goods,” You said with a sly smile. Alastor stared at you for a few seconds, narrowed his eyes, and roughly twisted his waist so that his tail turned towards you. He kicked his leg up and over the other, and folded his arms all sassy-like and impatiently waited for you to finish your very important mission.

You smiled gratefully, and gingerly settled your hands on the tail. It was so incredibly soft. As much hatred he seemed to hold for the thing, Alastor obviously took great care in the fur, keeping it silky smooth and combed.

It seemed sensitive, and you noticed how his ears twitched and turned in response to your touch. His eyes were cast away from you, and his brows were furrowed. Was he blushing? No, probably a trick of the light.

“Your tail is super soft, Al,” You complimented. “Probably the best in all of Hell.”

“Are you quite finished,” He asked through gritted teeth, his eyes clenched shut. His own body betrayed him, though, as his tail wagged at you slightly. You held in a squeal of delight at the sight, knowing he would probably leave you right then and there. However, you had been at it for a few minutes and didn’t want to push your luck any further. You sighed in response, and removed your fingers from his tail.

“I guess, for now,” You said playfully. This elicited a sharp look from the Radio Demon.

“For forever,” He claimed. “We shook pinkies.”

You managed to hold in the laugh from his words. It was impossible to take him seriously as he said that, especially as he sat with a tail on full display and ears quirked backwards in embarrassment.

You yawned, opting to stop responding to him. You tugged at the hem of his shirt as you fell back into the mattress, and he easily let himself fall alongside you. He was settled next to you, and you practically magnetically attached yourself to him. He was stiff for a few minutes, but slowly unwound and relaxed next to you.

It didn’t take long at all for you to fall asleep. With the familiar heat and weight of his body in the mattress next to you, you were comfortable again for the first time in a week. The feeling of Alastor’s nails playing through your hair was the final straw as a deep sleep erased your senses.

#ohdeerfully #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #fluff #alastor x you #alastor is kind of a butt at first #his tail makes up for it tho #i imagine its super sensitive bc he ignores it so much #he might be touched starved but u didnt hear it from me!

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fettuccin-e · 6 months

Text

Just This Once

Kinktober Day 18: Squirting + Dacryphilia

Tags: Din Djarin x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls wrap it before you tap it irl), fingering (r!recieving), squirting, light dacryphilia, Din being feral but also emotionally stunted (w/c: 1.7K)

A/N: Guess who fell behind on Kinktober again, womp womp. I will not give up though!! I am determined to finish, so please enjoy this Din fic that I may or may not have gotten too invested in while writing it and stay tuned for some more filth coming (and cumming hahaha) soon!! (for Kinktober I have been using this list from flightlessangelwings!)

There’s something about the coldness of space, the loneliness of it, that makes you so desperate.

When the Crest is quiet, the baby asleep, all you can feel is the vastness of the universe around you, your body cold and needy for touch. And Maker, the Mandalorian notices immediately, the way you cross and uncross your legs in the seat behind him, curling your fingers into your thighs as the stars fly past the ship. You don’t mean to be obvious, but Din always notices.

He knows how to treat you when you get like this, all needy and desperate for his touch, even when you don’t want to admit it. Din is willing to admit that you are far more than just a friend to him, but you both narrowly avoid the strength of the feelings between you both, the bond that drags you together. But still, Din knows exactly what you need, and he has absolutely no problem giving it to you.

He has you splayed across his lap, your back pressed against his chestplate, your head lolling back onto his shoulder. He’d lost his gloves the moment you’d peeled off your pants, his hands the only skin he’ll allow himself to touch you with. It’s a wonderful loophole for you, but an exercise in torture for him. He wants to feel your back pressed against his bare chest, trace his lips down your neck. Wants to feel your heartbeat against his, quick and warm and alive.

This is the Way, he reminds himself, despite knowing, deep down, that he’s already broken something just by touching you without his gloves. But stars, how can he resist when your pretty, desperate little cunt pulses beneath his fingertips, begging for more, more, more.

He ghosts his fingers up the slick seam of your pussy, and has to hold back his own groan at the way you whine, pressing back against him as your hips twitch uncontrollably.

“Stars, you’re wet,” he grunts, pressing a thick finger into your entrance, already gaping with your need for something, anything to clutch onto. “Needed me this bad, cyar’ika?”

“‘M so- so empty, Din, fuck, it’s like,” you cut yourself off with a gasp as he starts fucking you with that one thick finger, feeling it drag across your walls. “It’s like I can’t fucking breathe without you touching me, Maker, I need it all the time, Din.”

And it’s true. When you’d first started traveling with Din and the baby, you’d barely even noticed the loneliness. You’d been lonely your whole life, eager to escape your desolate little planet and see the stars.

But then Din had done this for the first time, when tensions had run too high, when things had gone just a little too far.

“Just this once,” he’d muttered, “Can I touch you?” he’d asked, and you’d said yes without a thought.

He’d peeled off his glove, touching your face gently, so gently with those calloused fingers. He’d laid you out on his small mattress, pressing the front of his helmet to your forehead as he let his hand roam the expanse of your body, squeezing your skin over your clothes before brushing them over your clit through your pants. When you’d jerked up and moaned, he could only let out a shaky exhale through his visor as he rubbed tight circles into it, enraptured by the way you whimpered and squirmed beneath him.

“Just once,” he kept muttering, even as he worked one, two orgasms out of your body, “just once.”

Except it happened again. And again. And again.

And now you can barely sleep without wanting, needing Din to touch you. He hasn’t fucked you; there’s an unspoken rule that he’s broken enough of the Creed for you, telling you his name, touching you like he does. You don’t question it, not when you’re the one getting fucked on his fingers until you’re in tears, ravenous for his hands on your body.

It’s like it gets worse as time goes on, your need for him. Even now, pressed against his chest as his thick thighs spread you wide for his hands, it’s like the first time. You writhe against him as he works another finger into your hot cunt, your slick covering his hand. You hump forward into them without meaning to, and you turn your head to tuck it into his cowl as he works you over.

Din fucks his fingers furiously into you, using his other arm to brace across your hips, keeping you pinned to him. He’s practically growling as he pumps his hand between your legs, crooking his fingers up to press against the spot that makes you cry so beautiful for him. He keeps his fingers pressed deep for a moment, just grinding the tips of them into that spot relentlessly and relishing in the way you cry his name so prettily.

“Din, please- oh fuck! Stars, it’s too much, it’s too much oh my- ah-” you wine, feeling tears start to build in your eyes as you edge dangerously close to that peak you need so bad.

“C’mon, mesh’la, let go for me, squeeze my fingers with this little cunt,” he growls, and fuck, you can’t even breathe as you let him work you over, making you cum so hard that you can’t do anything but gasp for air.

And Din can’t fucking take it anymore.

“Fuck, I-” you hear him say, and you turn your head to look at him, even as aftershocks wrack your body, even as his fingers stay buried inside.

“What, Din?” you whisper, and Din nearly curses at the sight of you. Your lashes are wet with tears, stars, why do you have to look at him like that? It wears at his carefully honed control, and fuck, he can practically feel it snap at the sight of you, as the feeling of you.

“Can I fuck you?” he rasps, and you hear him suck in a breath, “please let me fuck you.” You can't hold back the keening whine that leaves your mouth, and Din shivers behind you at the sound of it.

“Please,” you breathe, and Din pulls his fingers out of you without missing a beat, reaching behind you, between your bodies to pull his cock out of his pants haphazardly. You feel the hardness of it press against your lower back, and resist the urge to look. You don’t want to cross any more lines than he’s given you.

“Just this once,” he mutters, pulling your hips back over him, notching the thick head of his cock to your entrance. “Just need to feel you, once, fuck, just once,” and he pulls you down, down, letting his cock stretch you so wide, so perfect.

Months in space, just weeks of having Din touch you, stars, it’s nothing compared to this. You eyes roll to the back of your head as he settles deep inside, so fucking deep that it makes your toes curl.

“Dank farrik, that’s fucking tight-” he grunts, the hot, wet heat of your cunt pulsing around him almost making him fill you up right then and there. He bites his tongue, praying to the Maker that the pain stops him from ending this far too fucking soon.

He uses his hard, strong grip on your hips to roll you into him, grinding you down hard onto his cock. You can only take it as he punches his hips up in aborted, desperate little thrusts that grind into your sweet spot.

“Fuck, Din, it’s so big, I can’t-” you whine, but Din only growls beneath his visor, fucking up into you harder, and your head falls back onto his shoulder plate at the feeling of it. It’s so perfect, it’s everything you’ve needed, stars, how will you survive without him filling you up like this?

“Give me another one, cyare,” he mutters, and he uses one of his hands to bring his fingers to your clit, just like he did that first night. Except this time, his cock is inside you, spreading you so wide and pressing up into your g-spot with every fucking thrust in. You gasp for air, little whines punching out of your throat every time Din shoves in all the way.

He’s a violent man, always has been, and fucking you is no exception. He fucks you like he hunts: fast, rough, fucking monstrous. Tears finally start to pour down your cheeks, and you hiccup through your moans.

“Look at you,” he rasps, “sobbing on my cock like the needy whore you are.” He doesn’t know what’s happened to him, he’s never talked like this, let alone to you. But stars, the way you moan for him has his head spinning, has words pouring out of his mouth like they’ve been trapped there all this time. “Mesh’la, squeezing me so perfect, never want to leave this perfect cunt.”

“Din, fuck, Din, I’m gonna- stars, I’m gonna-” you gasp, your hands scrabbling at the one hand he has rubbing at your swollen clit.

“C’mon, c’mon, let me feel it, need to fucking feel it-” he mutters, and oh-

You’re pretty sure you scream as you cum, but it’s hard to hear it over the ringing in your ears as you thrash in Din’s lap. You can feel him still inside you, his horrible fingers still rubbing dexterous circles into your clit as he floods your cunt with his cum. Your orgasm feels fucking endless, your thighs trying to close but still held wide by Din’s between them.

When you finally start to hear again, the blurriness fading from your vision, you can hear Din behind you, muttering, “fuck, so beautiful, didn’t- didn’t know you could do that.”

“Do- do what?” you slur, still groggy, but as you look in front of yourself, you can see the mess you’ve made. You’d fucking squirted, your wetness drenching his thighs and the floor of the hull. The sight makes your head spin, and you hide your face in his cowl as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you close to him. The coolness of his armor is soothing to your overly-heated body.

“So good, you did so good for me, cyar’ika,” he mumbles beneath the visor. “So pretty, can’t believe- you looked so beautiful.”

You let yourself relax into his hold, and he doesn’t let you go. “Didn’t know I could do that either,” you mumble, sleep already weighing down your eyelids, exhaustion flooding your body. “We’ll have to try again later,” you mumble. “Don’t think once is enough.”

“It will never be enough,” you hear him whisper, “not with you.”

#touch starved and feral din #love of my life #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #din djarin x female reader #din djarin fic #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #star wars smut

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 7 months

Text

i’ll relearn love at our kitchen table ; satoru gojo

synopsis; satoru doesn’t quite know what love is supposed to feel like. but if it means coming home to you, it can’t possibly be that much of a curse.

word count; 4.9k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, satoru gojo vs. the mortifying ordeal of being loved, fluff fluff fluff!!, a hint of angst if you reeeaallyyy squint, gojo’s pov, the babygirlification of satoru gojo, i just think being babied would fix him <33

a/n; i wanted to write something for suguru or shoko but this man is genuinely holding my brain hostage atp so more satoru fluff it is!! physically i could write gojo angst yes but emotionally? imagine the toll…

when satoru steps over the threshold to your apartment, he’s downright exhausted.

it’s a heavy kind of fatigue, a little sickening. the kind that seems to sneak its way into his bones, crawl its way under his skin. dragging him down, down, down.

a yawn slips from his lips.

the mission itself wasn’t too tough — anything is a breeze for satoru gojo, that fact needs no elaboration. this one was just a little more taxing than usual, slightly more important, which meant he had to deal with the technicalities of it all. had to listen to the elders go on and on about the importance of discretion, about finishing things swiftly and efficiently, and something else he didn’t stick around long enough to hear.

and the curse? a small fry, really. nothing worth fussing over. but it was annoying, with that irritatingly effective barrier technique. how long did he have to stay inside that goddamn veil before it let him get close enough to land a hit?

satoru doesn’t want to think about it, can’t be bothered to figure it out when all he wants is to collapse into the warm comfort of a soft mattress. all he knows is that when it finally lifted, the night sky was the only thing he could see. a vacuum of stars — taunting in its perpetuity.

so, with all that being said; to say satoru feels a little worn out might be a bit of an understatement.

hair slightly tousled, eyelids heavy with sleep-deprivation, he slumps against the wall and allows himself to simply breathe. a soft groan flows from his parted lips as he stretches idly, a small respite for his stiff and achy joints, his tired muscles.

it’s been a long day. but satoru still finds it in him to exhale a relieved breath, to drag his blindfold down to his neck and kick off his shoes.

because it’s been a long, long day — but now he’s finally home.

(not just a house, not just an apartment, but a home. a place of comfort and belonging. satoru didn’t think that was a luxury he would ever be able to afford.)

the moment he lets the door close behind him, a particular scent greets him. soothing in its familiarity, the only thing in his life that never seems to change; a blend between fresh laundry, and watered houseplants, and something that smells a bit like honey. maybe even sweeter than usual, though satoru chalks that up to his mind playing tricks on him.

it’s nice. so nice. coming back to something warm and real, a respite from his hectic work. a safe haven, of sorts, one that hasn’t been taken from him just yet.

satoru likes to think of your front door as a threshold between realms, a gap between within and without. one is dark in its saturation, plagued by that never-fading smell of iron, while the other is simply warm. sacred in its normalcy.

everything looks just as it should, the same as when he rushed out this morning; a fluffy blanket draped over the couch haphazardly, that soft golden light streaming out from the kitchen, your shoes by the front door.

satoru blinks, drowsily.

wait.

why is the kitchen light still on?

as if his eyes could ever deceive him, satoru rubs the skin under them groggily — blinking once, then twice.

yep, it’s still there — that soft fluorescent glow. a sight he’s come to associate with breakfast and dinner and a mellow kind of love, laughter shared over warm meals made by human hands. food tastes better, satoru has come to realize, when you have someone to eat it with.

ah, but it’s odd. did you forget to turn the lights off? that’s not very like you.

as if possessed by a strange, irresistible longing, his feet carry him to the kitchen in question. undeniably groggy, his uncoordinated steps are riddled with fatigue, but the yearning in his chest compels him to move forward anyway — a kind of yearning he only fully understands when he enters the space, and sees you slumped over the table, a familiar flicker of cursed energy capturing his attention.

you’re asleep.

satoru stills, where he stands by the threshold between the kitchen and the living room.

everything looks the same as always — cookie jars placed on the highest shelf to give him an excuse to help you reach them, origami made from newspapers he never bothers to read anyway, a vase standing proudly on the kitchen counter, stuffed with fresh flowers he bought for you two days ago.

the red roses still haven’t wilted, shining in the blue of the moonlight flickering in. good. they’re pretty, but maybe next time he should get you something more original. maybe some sunflowers, something that could rival the brightness of your smile. do they even sell sunflowers this time of year? if you were awake, satoru would ask you, even though you always tell him to just google it —

but you're not awake. you’re fast asleep, cheek squished against the kitchen table, snoring softly.

satoru feels his mood lift at the sight alone, and suddenly he doesn’t feel as tired anymore. something soft and almost otherworldly sprouts in his chest, as he takes you in, stepping closer. almost giddy, just to see you up close.

you look so peaceful and relaxed, so content. elbows resting on the table as soft little breaths fall from your parted lips; he spots a bit of drool on the corner of your bottom lip, gaze fond as he wipes it away with his thumb. he can’t resist the urge to poke your cheek, and it makes you stir ever so slightly — lips curling up into something akin to a sleepy smile.

satoru grins.

(you’re so cute.)

despite his fatigue, he hears himself chuckle, all soft and amused and a little bit lovesick. it comes to him so easily, when he’s with you; that upturn of his lips, the butterflies in his stomach.

satoru is still getting used to it. this cotton candy sweet, light as a feather kind of love. the kind that always feels like spring. but with every day that passes, the life he has with you becomes a little easier to digest. his future with you becomes a little easier to visualize.

yeah, he thinks. he could get used to this. coming home to you.

a soft smile, as he exhales a somewhat exasperated breath. you really shouldn’t be sleeping out here, though. silly.

satoru leans forward, inching closer to your pretty, sleeping face — he almost feels bad, waking you up like this. but he wants to hear your voice so badly.

so he cups your cheek, cold skin meeting warm, his hands still lingering with the bite of the midnight air. his fingertips tingle, buzzing with the body heat that trickles from your veins to his — one single touch is all it takes for him to soften.

the word that falls from his lips breaks the peaceful silence of the kitchen, breathing life into the moment. whispered into your ear, causing your brows to furrow as you gently slip from sleep’s embrace.

“baby…”

satoru is smiling, when your eyelids flutter open. a sincere smile, reserved for you and his students. bathed in the mellow hue of the kitchen lamp’s illumination, a soft glow curls around the strands of his white hair, creating a halo of artificial light.

blinking sleepily, you gaze at him in silence. something shines in your eyes, something satoru tentatively recognizes as adoration. and he gazes right back at you, with heavy-lidded eyes and a lopsided smile. teasing, lighthearted. thumb smoothing over the apple of your cheek.

then he grins, hopelessly endeared. ”hey there, sleeping beauty.”

a yawn tumbles from your lips, and you lift yourself up. leaning into his touch. “toru…” you mumble, voice a little raspy but still oh so sweet.

satoru doesn’t say anything. he simply takes you into his arms, gently, touch so very delicate — as if you’re made of porcelain. and you just let yourself fall into his embrace, while he tucks you under his chin, safe and secure.

it’s warm, he thinks. it feels right. complete, somehow.

and satoru thinks to himself that this must be what love feels like. what it’s supposed to feel like, anyhow, all sweet and light. all good and normal, something you never have to question. a cornerstone.

“you’re back…” you drawl, muffled into his uniform as your arms sneak around his thin waist. bringing him closer.

stroking the back of your head softly, satoru’s chest rumbles as he speaks, voice deep and a little raspy. soothing, a lullaby just for you. “yeah,” he hums. ”were you waiting?”

all you do is nuzzle further into his chest, cheek smooshed right over his heart; breathing out a sleepy little mhm that has him going weak at the knees, lips curling up helplessly.

“i wanted to…” you continue, stretching your arms a little to shrug away the remnants of sleep still clinging to your joints. “but i fell asleep.”

satoru feels you move in his arms, until your jaw settles on top of his shoulder and you press a chaste kiss to his neck. an exhale leaves his lips, something tender in the way his breath wavers.

“welcome home,” is whispered, muffled against his skin. a sentence he never wants to go a single day without hearing. “did the mission go okay?”

he plants a kiss on top of your head, speaking in a low tilt, reassuring. “it did. just took a little longer than i thought.” a soft inhale, as he basks in the scent of your shampoo. “i wanted to text you, but the veil blocked my signal. sorry, sweetie.”

another soft yawn, and a shake of your head. “s’ fine, don’t worry,” you murmur. ”i’m just glad you’re okay.”

satoru chuckles. there’s a fondness to it, light. and then something else, something more heavy — it rumbles through his chest, almost like a purr, or a soothing thunderstorm. he can only hope it’s enough to comfort you.

“of course.” he says the words like they’re indisputable, like they’re written down in scriptures old and worn. cradling you in his strong arms, he pulls you closer to his chest. hoping you’ll feel his heartbeat against you, feel that he’s there. “i always am, aren’t i?”

no answer. only a tiny hum, absentminded.

and satoru knows, deep down, that his words don’t mean much. that a part of you is always going to worry over him, no matter how many times he tells you that there’s no need. that he’ll be fine.

the thought makes him feel a bit guilty. a little sick to his stomach, at the thought of being a source of your anxiety, the reason you can’t fall asleep at night — but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t also make him feel somewhat giddy. the thought tastes sweet, on his tongue, even though it probably shouldn’t.

having someone who worries for you is a luxury, satoru has come to realize. a luxury he has, now, one he hasn’t had since —

well. that’s neither here nor there.

(“be careful, satoru,” he recalls a kind boy saying.

but that was many, many springs ago.)

“oh, right.”

at the sound of your voice, satoru pulls away ever so slightly, gazing down at you. “hm?”

with a single step back, you look up at him. tilting your head. hands still resting securely on his waist, fingertips squeezing at his hips. lightly, affectionately. barely restrained fondness. ”have you had anything to eat yet?”

“yeah. got some takeout on my way back.”

satoru expects you to sigh in relief, at his instantaneous answer. you don’t like it when he skips meals, so these days he’s been trying not to do it as much. even though he doesn’t always have the time to eat properly, and even though the sweets he chews on between missions make him lose his appetite. but he makes an honest attempt, for you.

someone worries for him. someone wants him to eat well. that’s more than enough motivation for satoru gojo.

but you don’t exhale, and you don’t look very relieved, either. you look… disappointed. eyes suddenly glancing down at the floor, lips curled down into a barely noticeable frown.

“oh,” you breathe. “okay. good.”

one second. then two. satoru tilts his head.

“why?” he stops to think. maybe… “did you make something?”

a certain recognition flickers in the depths of your eyes, and satoru thinks he must be right on the money. chewing at your bottom lip a little, you wait a moment before curling your fingers around his wrist — tugging him away from the kitchen table.

satoru follows, pliantly, until you’re standing in front of the fridge.

“well, um… here,” you mumble, somewhat sheepishly. fingers tapping at the handle before pulling it open. “take a look.”

satoru watches as the fridge door opens, slowly.

he blinks.

the first thing he sees is a single slice of strawberry shortcake. the strawberry looks fresh, glittering like a ruby on top of the softly whisked cream — and layers of sponge cake, that look like they’d melt in his mouth.

and that’s not all. there are a wide array of baked treats stuffed into the cramped space, protected by plastic wrapping and containers. everything from cupcakes with too much frosting — just the way he likes them — to chocolate chip cookies that crumble at the corners, satoru never seems to run out of things to look at. colourful treats, lovingly made and sitting right in front of him. it’s like he’s standing in a patisserie. they almost seem to sparkle, in the peripheral of his vision; glimmering softly, tantalizingly, like something out of a dream.

childish. that’s what nanami and shoko always call him, and he always protests, but —

maybe they have a point, after all. satoru certainly feels a little childish, when he realizes his eyes must be wide and bursting with child-like giddiness. a simple kind of joy, at seeing the ample selection in front of him. especially after that tedious mission prevented him from getting any sugar into his system.

”i did my best,” you mutter, sharing the sight with him as your eyes trail over a pretty bag of pink and green macarons. ”dunno if they turned out any good, but… i hope you’ll like them.”

satoru’s gaze flits over to you.

he opens his mouth, and then closes it again.

”did you… make these?” a beat. ”for me?”

a blink. ”.. yeah?” who else would they be for?, your eyes seem to say. a little confused.

for a second, satoru can only stare at you. in complete silence, the tired cogs inside his head turning sluggishly as he thinks about the implications of that answer. and with a soft flutter, he feels his heartbeat pick up, warming him up from the inside out.

you made them. with your own hands. you made all of these and you did it for him.

for some reason, satoru finds it oddly hard to speak, like someone stuffed a bunch of cupcakes down his throat. it’s weird — usually he can’t seem to stop talking, especially not when he’s with you, but…

(something about this is just too tender.)

you must have been baking all day. no wonder the apartment smelled sweeter than usual, when he walked in.

as if itching to curl around one of the macarons, his fingers twitch, but satoru gulps and keeps them still. he wants to say something, anything, wants to thank you or ask why you’d spend so much of yourself on him, but satoru only stays silent.

and maybe it’s because he’s tired. maybe he’s just a little caught off guard. usually this wouldn’t be that hard to handle — he could just throw himself on you and shower you in kisses, show his appreciation with a flurry of dramatics and declarations of love.

but right now there seems to be a disconnect, between satoru’s mind and body. maybe the mission drained him more than he realized. or maybe it’s more than that, maybe there’s nothing he can say or do; what words could he even begin to use to properly verbalize the emotions he’s feeling right now? how could his touch ever begin to measure up to the sweet sensation unfurling in his chest?

the silence doesn’t last long. as satoru stands there and spirals, you speak up, most likely chalking it up to him being too sleepy to react.

”this mission was especially rough, right?” you begin, with a soft tilt of your head. a smile curls its way onto your lips, proud and sweet. sweeter than everything in the fridge combined.

one step, then two. you inch closer to him, until there’s almost no space between you — standing on your tiptoes, one hand on his shoulder and the other reaching for his head. smoothing down his tousled hair, fingers tangling themselves between the soft white strands and getting lost in them. and it’s gentle, the way you begin to pat his head, doting.

then you speak. ”you did well.”

and it’s such a simple thing to say. three words, three syllables, but the words just tumble out from your mouth so earnestly that satoru can’t help but still. his breath hitches in his throat, softly, barely noticeable, but it’s there. that surprise.

he never knows how to act, when you get like this. patting his head and ruffling his hair like he’s something warm and sweet and worthy of love. something delicate, and not the strongest man on the planet.

it’s so weird. you’re so weird.

(satoru leans into your touch without thinking, allowing his eyes to flutter shut.)

it’s perplexing, this feeling, and the fact that he can’t pinpoint why frustrates him to no end. isn’t this wrong? shouldn’t he be the one ruffling your hair, coddling you?

what formula is he supposed to follow here, exactly? should he tease you? pull away from your touch?

satoru wishes his six eyes could tell him the answer, but they don’t. they’ve never been very good with emotions, with things that aren’t directly tied to his suffering or imminent death.

(so ironic. all these eyes and nothing to see. they failed to see suguru’s silence, back then, and now they fail to see what reaction would please you the most.

really, such a worthless ability to love people with.)

no answer comes to him. so satoru doesn’t tease you, and he doesn’t pull away.

it does feel slightly wrong, though. like this feeling isn’t something he’s supposed to have, there must be some mistake, he can’t possibly be allowed to feel so loved — can he? having you bake him all his favorite treats, run your fingers through his hair. praise him for working hard.

really. isn’t he being too coddled?

(… but it feels so nice.)

satoru suspects that there’s a lot to love he might not fully understand, just yet.

maybe tomorrow, when he’s a little less tired, he can try once again to give you the impression that he’s perfect. that he doesn’t need affection, that he doesn’t crave your support or your touch. that he’s above all that, the strongest, someone for you to depend on.

depend on him, while he depends on no one. that’s the kind of existence satoru gojo is. that’s how it should be, that’s all he knows, but…

— ah. it feels really nice when your nails scratch his scalp like that.

and suddenly, that’s all satoru can think. no more pesky what-ifs, or second guessing every good thing he gets. right now, it’s just you and him. your fingers in his hair, his footprints in your life.

satoru allows himself to melt under your touch, almost meekly. leaning down just a little further, to make it easier for you to smooth your hand over his head. he nuzzles into your palm with a happy little exhale, and for some reason he feels sort of bashful.

try as he might, he doesn’t manage to successfully shoo the emotion away, so all he can do is hope you don’t take note of it.

and you just continue your onslaught of affection, now ruffling his hair with both your hands, like he’s a big puppy getting cooed over. satoru has a nagging suspicion that you might be getting a little carried away, but he doesn’t stop you. greedy, in the way he wishes your hands would never leave his hair. the way he hopes you’ll never be too far away from him to reach.

”such a hard worker,” you coo, and he feels himself grow flustered. ”my baby deserves so much love.”

”woah there,” satoru chokes out, grinning, desperately hoping you won’t notice the red tint to his ears. ”are you flirting with me? i have a partner, you know.”

a giggle slips from your lips, sleepy and amused. ”oh, do you?” one of your hands goes to cup his cheek, thumb caressing the edge of his jaw as you gaze at him fondly. ”lucky them.”

the grin you’re wearing is awfully bright. soft around the edges in a way that has him speechless, brain malfunctioning ever so slightly. satoru makes a mental note to scrap the sunflower idea — there has to be some brighter flower out there, one that can actually compete with your smile. sunflowers just won’t cut it.

but then you let go, and satoru gets broken out of his lovesick stupor.

when your hands leave his skin, his lips curl down into a soft pout. one he rushes to smooth away, before you can notice it.

you step back, failing to stifle a soft bout of laughter, but satoru knows it’s not because you saw it — he knows because your gaze is glued to his hair, and he internally winces when he thinks about how messy it must look, after your little bout of cuteness aggression.

(you really are weird, finding him cute of all things.)

he expects you to tease him a little more, but you don’t, turning away and tapping your fingers on the kitchen counter. ”if i’d known you’d be home this late,” you speak, stealing one last glance at the pastries before closing the fridge. ”then i would’ve waited until tomorrow. so you could eat them fresh.”

an apology rests on satoru’s tongue, but as if sensing it, you rush to reassure him.

”ah, but this is fine too! they should still taste good!” you turn away, muttering. ”… hopefully.”

then you nod to yourself, crossing your arms absentmindedly.

satoru looks at you for a second.

then he steps forward, unable to resist the temptation — tapping at your wrist with the pads of his fingers, before gently curling them around it, coaxing you into turning your head towards him.

the kiss he presses to your lips is soft, delicate. his fingers trace along your jaw, cupping your cheek and tilting your face up slightly, just letting his warm lips rest against yours. sweet and chaste. he sighs into the kiss, content, and feels your pulse pick up.

then he moves down to your jaw, slow and methodical — lazy kisses, sleepy but so full of affection. and little pecks, scattered all over your lips, your cheek, the tip of your nose.

you seem to melt a little, against him, and satoru relishes in it; his ability to make you relax. far more valuable than the six eyes, he would argue.

when he pulls away from you, with what takes tremendous self-restraint, he’s smiling. his gaze meets yours, layered over with pure adoration, blue eyes crinkling as he looks at you. as if you’re his entire world. the kitchen light embraces him, cascading down the contours of his face; the bridge of his nose, the curve of his jaw, his barely noticeable dimples.

and there it is, again — that flicker of love in your eyes, that adoration. as if you’re looking at a painting, something too beautiful for words.

(satoru hopes you can see that very same adoration, reflected in his eyes as he looks at you.)

after a moment, he leans forward, to rest his jaw on the curve of your shoulder. you stumble a little under the weight, caged in as his arms hug your midriff.

”god,” he sighs, breathless, heavy with giddy disbelief. almost whining when he continues, nuzzling into your neck as if to hide. ”why are you so perfect, huh? i don’t get it.”

at that, you huff out a laugh, an amused little breath. wrapping your arms around his neck and scratching softly at his nape. satoru shudders just a little, arms tightening around you.

”stealing my line…” you mutter, accusatory, smile laced over with a honeyed affection.

another amused breath, this time from him. this is one battle he won’t let you win. ”nah,” he grins, tugging you closer. ”’s mine.”

this is warm, he thinks. this feels right. complete, in a way that satoru never understood before you.

he could probably stand there forever, just basking in it. soaking up your body heat and the smell of your shampoo. until your warmth is all he knows, until he can never get your scent off his skin.

and satoru thinks that he could get used to this. a cotton candy sweet, light as a feather kind of love, one that smells like spring and tastes like strawberry shortcakes and feels like tight hugs shared in kitchens.

your love makes him feel so human. and it’s scary, terrifying even, but it's also too good to pass up. it’s worth the risk. so worth everything.

a yawn leaves your lips, suddenly. satoru feels you soften in his embrace, nuzzling closer to him, stumbling just a tad; he doesn’t think it’s fair, for such a simple gesture to make him as happy as it does.

”sleepy?” he coos, smile giddy and fond. ”let’s go to bed, okay? no more sleeping on the kitchen table, silly.”

a disgruntled little huff resounds throughout the air, as you let your arms fall to your sides. ”that’s on you,” you declare, poking the plush of his chest with your finger. ”i only fell asleep because you took so long.”

a teasing glint flickers in satoru’s eyes.

”wanted to see me that badly, huh?” he coos. you roll your eyes, and he pulls your cheek. ”that’s cute.”

”so what if i did?”

satoru stills. you’re smiling, a little mischievous, but mostly sincere. and it really is very unfair of you, he thinks — to do this to him while his guard is down.

but he manages to pull himself together, raising an amused eyebrow and booping your nose in a way that catches you off guard. blinking up at him, eyelashes fluttering.

satoru clears his throat. ”well, that’s sweet.”

then he turns on his heel, suddenly, and strolls over to the fridge. ”but you know what’s even sweeter?” he chirps, fingers curling around the handle as he swiftly pulls it open.

licking his lips, absentmindedly, his eyes trail over all the different pastries. so close yet so far, just out of reach; his fingers move forward, towards that mesmerizing slice of strawberry shortcake —

”— no.”

a hand settles on satoru’s waist, and tugs him away from his well-deserved prize. taking advantage of his momentary surprise, you close the fridge decisively, and give him an unimpressed raise of your eyebrow.

satoru whines, loud and grating. pouting sweetly, trying to make you feel bad. ”c’mon, just one bite —”

”no.”

”but they’re for me!”

”they’re for you to eat tomorrow. i was only gonna let you eat them tonight if you were on the brink of starvation, or something.”

”i am!”

”so the takeout was a lie?” you narrow your eyes at him, suddenly suspicious. ”have you been skipping meals, again?”

satoru pauses. weighing his options. ”well, no, but…”

”— then no.”

another soft whine. you turn away from him, when he tilts his head and gives you his best set of puppy dog eyes. in fear of giving in to them, satoru knows, as you have so many times before. ”please?” he tries, to no avail.

”you’re not eating sweets before bed, satoru,” you deadpan, and his smile falls further, exaggerated. ”and no, we are not having that conversation again.”

he can tell you’re trying to sound stern, but a giggle tumbles from your lips nonetheless, at the ridiculousness of the situation. keeping a grown man away from your fridge, knowing that he’ll wolf down every pastry he sees and get himself sick if you don’t. all while the man in question whines at you in protest, frowing so deeply, disappointment evident on his features.

(except satoru really isn’t very disappointed at all. like this, he gets to stare at your smile all he wants, after all; knowing you won’t notice it, too busy trying to keep yourself from giving in to his pleas.)

he tries again, one last time. just because he knows it’ll make you laugh. you do, a little exasperated, and satoru couldn’t be happier.

and he thinks to himself that if this is what love is, if this is what it’s supposed to feel like, then it can’t possibly be that much of a curse.

maybe he should revise the hypothesis, get a second opinion. he’ll have to ask you tomorrow, over pastries and coffee, and hear what you have to say.

as you both stumble to the bedroom, sleepy and a little delirious, satoru thinks that maybe this is enough; the lighthearted banter, the fond laughter. everything good and real and normal, within the space of your apartment, a home he never thought he’d have.

(and maybe, a second opinion isn’t necessary, after all. maybe it doesn’t really matter if love is a curse or not, as long as he gets to share it with you, like this.)

that night, satoru dreams. curled up with you beneath the blankets, limbs tangled together, as if he could never be close enough.

he dreams of kitchen lights, of sweet treats and warm hands. of spring breezes, and a love he’s finally beginning to accept for what it is:

good. wholly and thoroughly.

#lovesick satoru is my favorite satoru but yknow whats even better? lovesick satoru/lovesick reader #i just have such a firm belief that this man is a loser when hes genuinely in love ok.#hes so touch starved i think he’d crumble into a little puddle on the floor if u kissed his cheek #loves to tease and fluster you n hes so good at it but the moment u give him the same treatment? he is Gone. down for the count #spreading the loser satoru agenda <33 i love this man so dearly.#i NEED to hold his waist btw idk if i made that clear. i need it like i need air to breathe. like why is it so tiny if not to be held by me #had to hold myself back like a wolf during a full moon from describing his waist in too much detail youre welcome #overall idk what to say i just think love could fix him #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader

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