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#x reader cuddles
thehusbandoden · 2 months
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And Nothing Else Matters -Husband!Loid Forger x Wife!Reader
A/n: it's so easy to write now! I'm so glad that stupid writer's block is gone. :3
I hope I'm not badgering Loid's character lol. Pls let me know what you think! <3
General info:
Genre: pure fluff \\ wc: 711 \\ female reader \\ posted: 03/14/24
Summary:
You feel super clingy.. and you know exactly who your victim is. Your husband.
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You giggle, kissing your beloved husband’s cheeks. His dazzling azure eyes instantly meet yours as he frowns, hand held up in defense. He retired from his spy career last year, but he was always on alert. You kiss his warm palm, giggling into his skin as you rub your cheek against his large, warm palm.  
You’re not sure why, but you feel extremely clingy... and your perfect victim was of course, your husband. You loved him to pieces, even though he could come off as distant at times, you stuck with him, bathing in the affection whenever he gave it to you, and beaming with gratitude as he showed you his love through several acts of service throughout the day, everyday.  
Loid looked at you with a blank look as you nuzzled into his palm, giggling happily. As you continue to giggle, inching closer to him, he can’t help but let out a small sigh, his lips lifting into a small smile. Your giggles grow louder, you’re now full on laying on top of him, rubbing your cheek against his chest.  
“Love you baby.” You giggle, kissing his jaw, cheeks, and nose.  
“I love you too, y/n.” He mumbles, smiling ever so slightly down at you, stroking your hair softly. You bathe in the affection. If you were a cat, you would be purring.  
“You’re so comfy.” You giggle, stuffing your nose into his neck.  
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah! So warm, snuggly, and you smell sooo good.” You rub your nose against his jawline, giggling at the sensation of your skin on his. You were addicted. You push your nose to his, rubbing them together as you fawn over him.  
A warm blush coats Loid’s cheeks, causing you to grin in glee. Your giggles continue as you rub your cheek against his.  
“What do I smell like?” He smirks softly, raising an eyebrow. You giggle even more when you see his playful side coming out. Something rare, and a blessing that he bestowed on you and Anya, his girls. You two were his world, and you knew that as well as he did.  
“I don’t know. You smell like you.” You shrug, giggling as you kiss his forehead, peppering kisses all over his skin.  
“You’re going to give me a breakout...” he sighs, though there’s still a small smirk on his face.  
“Oh yeah?” You giggle, kissing his skin harder.  
He chuckles, his hands moving to your waist. He pinches your sides, causing you to let out a squeak of surprise, your hands quickly grabbing his to stop his playful assault.  
“Meanie, that hurt!” You pout, attempting- and failing- to stifle your giggles. His smirk widens into a grin as he frees his hands from yours, tickling your sides.  
You squeal in surprise, giggling as you desperately try to get his hands away. Your giggles turn into laughter as you decide to get revenge, attacking his own sides with tickles and soft pinches. He attempts to keep a straight face but ends up grinning ear to ear as he watches your smiling face.  
He continues to tickle and gently pinch your sides, nipping at your ear. You squeal in surprise, laughing uncontrollably as you continue to assault his chest and waist. You run out of air, panting from the playful attack.  
“I give up! Cease fire!” You giggle, slumping onto his warm chest. He pinches your waist one last time before stilling his hands, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.  
His grin softens into a smile as he looks down at you, kissing in-between your eyebrows, the tip of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, and finally your lips.  
The kiss was slow and gentle, melting you into a puddle. You kiss back sweetly, silently expressing your unconditional love and undying devotion to the man of your dreams. 
Loid pulls back, giving your lips one last peck before he rests his forehead against yours, breathing softly. You close your eyes, getting lost in the feeling of having your beloved so close. “I love you.” You whisper, entangling your hands into his blonde hair.  
“And I love you, my dearest.” He whispers back. Your smile widens, he rarely uses pet names, and when he does, he’s showing you his soft side. The side that hasn’t been bruised or broken, the side of him that he has fought desperately for years to protect, to hide.  
It made you feel like the luckiest woman alive. And to be frank, you were. You were the luckiest, happiest woman in the world. You had your beloved husband, and your precious little girl.  
And nothing else mattered.  
~~~~~
Loid's masterlist | Masterlist | Navigation | You can tip me here<3
Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated<33
~~~~~
Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.
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Unexpected Discovery
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and Bokuto Kōtarō, the exuberant ace of the Fukurōdani Academy volleyball team, found himself seeking solace in the comforting arms of his significant other—you. The two of you were sprawled on Bokuto's bed, cocooned in a cozy nest of blankets and pillows.
As the world outside moved at its own pace, Bokuto's vibrant energy seemed to dissipate, replaced by a peaceful calm. His head rested against your shoulder, and your fingers delicately traced soothing patterns on his arm. It was in these intimate moments that the true depth of your connection became apparent.
Lost in the tranquility of the embrace, the pair of you failed to notice the quiet creak of the door opening. Startled, you glanced towards the entrance, only to meet the wide-eyed gaze of none other than Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto's mischievous friend.
Kuroo froze for a moment, his surprise transforming into an impish grin. "Well, well, well… What do we have here?"
Bokuto jolted upright, his cheeks flushing with a deep shade of red. "Kuroo! It's not what it looks like!"
You tried to stifle a giggle, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement at the unexpected intrusion. "We were just… uh, cuddling, that's all."
Kuroo's grin widened, clearly enjoying the situation. "Just cuddling, huh? Sure, sure. I'll pretend I didn't see anything."
Bokuto's eyes narrowed, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. "Kuroo, you better keep your big mouth shut about this!"
Kuroo raised his hands in mock surrender. "Don't worry, Bokuto. Your secret's safe with me… for now. But you owe me ice cream!"
With a playful wink, Kuroo disappeared as swiftly as he had arrived, leaving you and Bokuto in a mixture of laughter and relief.
Bokuto leaned back against the pillows, his hand finding yours, and he squeezed it gently. "Well, that was embarrassing."
You chuckled, snuggling closer to him. "It was, but at least Kuroo seemed entertained. Besides, we can't deny that we make a pretty adorable couple."
Bokuto beamed, his embarrassment fading into the background. "That's true! We're the best couple ever!"
As you both basked in the aftermath of the amusing interruption, the warmth between you intensified. The interruption may have momentarily disrupted the tranquility of your cuddling session, but it also reminded you of the unwavering bond shared by Bokuto and his teammates.
In the days that followed, the incident became a lighthearted inside joke within the Fukurōdani team, creating moments of camaraderie and laughter. The memory of Kuroo's unexpected discovery served as a reminder of the supportive network of friends that surrounded you both.
And as for your cuddling sessions, you learned to be a little more cautious, making sure the door was securely locked before surrendering to the warmth and comfort of each other's arms.
a/n: i took three words out of this one because they made no sense. otherwise, this one was cute. made my day, really.
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nanaminokanojo · 16 days
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Sukuna is pissed.
The reason? You moved away from him in your sleep when he wanted to hold you close.
In your own subtle ways, you've always complained about how unaffectionate he is. You didn't explicitly say it, but he did notice how your mood would shift, your pretty little smiles barely masking your disappointment when he would do or say anything remotely cold or mean. And now that he was giving you what you wanted, you just roll away from him, depriving him of your warmth and the affection he expects you to reward him.
How you even managed to escape four of his arms to find your own corner of the bed was a big puzzle to him. You've always slept peacefully pressed to his side on most nights, and you didn't really move much once he had two of his arms wrapped around your frail form. Perhaps you were doing it on purpose after he had evidently upset you during supper by dismissing you when you asked about his day. There was nothing to tell, and though he understands that your concerns came from a good place, he still refused to tell you of the horrors of the world he found himself so deeply embroiled in.
Sukuna, however, brushed off the idea. You wouldn't dare. Or would you? He was just protecting you. Why would you hold that against him?
He chose not to entertain the thought, thinking it was just you moving in your sleep. And so, he reached for you, gently placing his arms over and underneath you to pull you closer. But it hadn't even been a minute of him holding you when you started letting out these seemingly irritated noises and shortly after, you were turning your back on him.
"What –" He stopped himself when you breathed in deeply, half expecting to hear sobs if you were truly upset with him, but then, your breathing rhythm returned to normal. You were still fast asleep.
Sukuna shrugged, already feeling his temper rising at the thought that you could sleep just fine without him. The thought of it annoyed him, and that was an understatement. He decided to move closer to you then, but as soon as he did, pressing your back on his bare chest, you started squirming, a dissatisfied groan leaving your lips.
At that, he rose slightly on his elbow, taking offense. "Woman, what is your problem?" he demanded, making you lie down flat on your back, startling you. "Is something ailing you?" This time, he spoke gently, watching as you slowly blinked up at his frowning face like you haven't got a clue what he's talking about. And then you closed your eyes before favoring your left side, going back to sleep.
"You –"
"What?" you whined without facing him, annoyed that your sleep was being disturbed.
Sukuna scoffed. You've really done it this time. Nobody dared speak to him that way. "What now? You don't want me anymore? I thought you wanted –"
In one swift movement, he found himself being tackled onto the bed as you turned around and threw yourself against him, immediately finding your spot in the crook of his neck. His two left arms instinctively wrapped around you, keeping you cradled in them as you snuggled closer, planting a kiss under his collarbone as if to appease him before you were falling back asleep.
"You could have just stayed like this –"
"Shh."
Did you just shush him? And as if to punctuate it, you raised your hand, your fingers blindly yet tenderly brushing his lips and staying there.
"Wife, you are aware I have two mouths, aren't you?" he spoke against your fingers, fighting a smile.
You moved your head back to smirk at him as you threw a leg over his abdomen right where his other mouth was, your thigh preventing it from saying anything.
"There. Problem solved."
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rhys-writes-some-shit · 5 months
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Cuddles
Alastor x Reader (QP)
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You were always respectful of the fact that Alastor didn't like physical touch that he didn't initiate. You never asked why, never tried to force him otherwise, never even considered trying to touch him without his consent. This remained true for all the years you'd known him.
But sometimes it got really fucking difficult.
After a long day of work, then chores, then helping with the hotel, you were absolutely exhausted. And you still had dinner to look forward to. As much as you loved Al, his need for dinner formality really got on your nerves sometimes. At least the food was good.
Luckily, there was a little time where you could escape to your room. Closing the door behind you, you kicked off your shoes and dramatically collapsed onto the bed. As soon as your body hit the mattress, you wanted to stay there for the rest of eternity.
But that wasn't an option.
Groaning, you decided it wouldn't hurt to close your eyes for a moment. Besides, Alastor would want you to be lucid for dinner. Closing your eyes for a second would help.
"Ah, there you are." Distantly, you heard Alastor poke his head in the room. "I would like your input on supper, if you don't mind."
Unable to muster words, you made some unintelligible noises into the bed, curling up more with the blankets. Alastor's footsteps were muffled by the carpet, so you didn't know he was standing right next to you until he spoke.
"Seriously, darling, it is much too early to be sleeping. Don't be so dramatic."
A hand fell on your shoulder, probably to try and take the blankets off you. However, in your half-awake stupor, you shifted to grab the hand, pulling it towards you in an effort to pull some comfort out of it.
Your brain didn't compute what you'd just done for a full 30 seconds, until, suddenly, it hit you. Despite your exhaustion, you immediately let go of Alastor's hand and jerked to a sitting position.
"Al, I'm so, so sorry," you said, your voice sounding more tired than anything else. You ignored the way your eyes kept trying to close, Alastor's figure being nothing more than a red blur in front of you. "I didn't mean to. Give me a minute, I'll be down to help."
Alastor hummed, the contemplative hum you've learned to differentiate over time. Vaguely, you were aware that Alastor's smile softened a bit.
"I can spare ten minutes," Alastor finally said. "Move over, if you please."
You stared at him, blinking tiredly, struggling to understand what was happening.
Expectantly, Alastor motioned to the bed. "Nine minutes and thirty-five seconds."
Then it kicked in. Hastily, you moved over to the other side of them bed, giving enough room for Alastor to sit down with his back against the headboard.
Blankets curled around your shoulders, you sat there, hesitating.
"You may." Alastor answered the unspoken question. "For eight minutes and fifty-two seconds."
It was impossible to deny the smile that grew on your face as you crawled into Alastor's lap, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes. Gently, Alastor wrapped his arms around you, holding you.
Wrapped in blankets, leaning into Alastor's solid body, the darkness behind your eyelids enveloped you. It felt like you were floating, just your and Alastor, and nothing could ever harm you ever again. As long as you kept your breathing steady, everything would be okay.
Everything would be okay.
You were right; just closing your eyes for a few minutes helped immensely. It was even better that it was spent with one of your favorite people in all of Hell. And if Alastor "accidentally" forgot to keep track of the time, extending your cuddle for an extra two minutes, you weren't going to say anything.
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ghouljams · 6 months
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You know Ghost has to be the best fucking pillow. He's a giant of a man, beefy and strong, with a nice warm layer of softness covering his muscles. He's a radiator of heat. Laying on the couch, can hardly fund one that's long enough his feet don't hang off the edge, you just want to drape yourself on top of him. Snoozing against his chest, your legs tangled with his, he drags his fingers up and down your spine soothing you deeper to sleep.
Sleep is so hard for Ghost to come by, but he's happy to be of service for you. And maybe he even finds himself dozing, his fingers trailing slower and slower until his head drops to the side, his eyes too heavy to keep open any longer. He naps on the couch with you, snoring as you raise and lower with each intake of breath into his barrel chest. Neither of you have ever been safer, neither of you less alone, neither of you have slept better than you do right now.
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solarlunarsstuff · 6 months
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·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩
☆ Headcannons With Mike Schmidt ☆
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Synopsis: This is basically abt Mike Schmidt cuz yes- (sfw and nsfw).
Tw: Dacryphilia, thigh riding, fingering, fluff n smut, switch!Mike, switch!Reader, manhandiling, orgasm denial, squirting, dumbification, and cuddling.
A/n: Abby also catches the bus in this lil drabble, ots also short I'm sorry :(, anyway. Enjoy this breedable man's hdcs!!! ♡♡
·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
(SFW HDCS)
☆ First of all, you've both been friends for years, he had given you the keys to his house for the purpose of trusting you
☆ You got up early to check on him, but by that time Abby had already gotten to school by the bus
☆ You both would cuddle in the morning before he left for his agonizing night of work
☆ You would also cook for the poor man so he wouldn't be left on an empty stomach
☆ You've always remembered to give him goodbye kisses before he would start the car
☆ Once he got to work, he would always keep a picture of you in his wallet, either way, he loved how pretty you were
☆ Mike would slowly eat his lunch made from you.
☆ Every single type of affection you did to him would make him melt
☆ And once he got home he would shower you with kisses
☆ On the lips, hands, neck, anything would work for him as long as you were in his protective arms
☆ He even got a bit risky at the dinner table where Mike, Abby, and you.
☆ Mike would rest his hand on your thigh while you both would listen to Abby talk about her "friends" and drawings
☆ Abby started to stick on you, drawing you and Mike holding hands with some colorful background
☆ Mike has always loved you, ever since he saw you in preschool
☆ He may still be a bit nervous around you but still yet, he lived for your love
☆ He would often give you hugs from behind when your cooking with his bedhead, tank top, and sweats
·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
(NSFW HDCS)
☆ Morning sex, all the way
☆ It's like you'll come to his house and he would act all needy and would beg for you to ride him
☆ This happens so much that you started to go dumb over his dick
☆ You would obviously agree and lose track of time and he ends up late for work
☆ Mike is so obsessed that near the end of his shift he would call you to check in but it would end up in phone sex
"Yeah, lemme' hear that fuckin' cunt-fuuuuckk"
☆ He would breathe out while his throbbing cock was laying in his calaused hands
"Go on. Finish f' me? Mhmm, that's it..."
☆ Mike would walk you through it and cooed at any noise that came out of your body
"Shiiiit- can't wait to break that fuckin' pussy when I get home.."
☆ Ohh boy, you knew he would absolutely fuck you up
☆ You also knew that when he gets home from shifts, he would get a bit madder each night
☆ You didn't mind, like at all.
☆ Mike was drilling his dick straight into your puffed up cunt, not letting up to let you breathe
☆ You've told him so many times that when he comes home mad you get a bit worried but he brushes it off
☆ Besides that, he loves when you take control too
☆ Having him not shutting up when he was being to loud
☆ Grabbing the opportunity to shove your panties in his mouth
☆ Mike is so far into bliss that he lolled his tongue out to let you spit in his mouth
☆ He calls you whore, you call him slut. Either or you both love degrading each other
☆ Even if he's not in the mood he'll let you hump his thigh so it's not as messy
☆ But it ends in him finger fucking you
"Aww, poor baby wants my fat cock in her? Well to fucking bad, deal with it you fucking whore.."
☆ Mike was the person that had founded your G-spot, making you squirt everytime but sometimes wouldn't let his poor baby finish :(
☆ He would always lick and suck it off of his fingers and helped you wash up
☆ He was the one that made you want more
☆ Mike Schmidt was the only man on earth that could make you come as hard on and around his cock
《☆♡☆》
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latehere · 16 days
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i am obsessively drawing moon how do i stop
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theostrophywife · 5 months
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chicken noodle soup.
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pairing: mattheo riddle x reader
song inspiration: is it really so strange? by the smiths
author's note: just a soft fluffy comfort fic cause i've been thinking about matty lately and i needed cheering up after the end of kwaf. let's all laugh at the fact that i set a 1k limit on this fic only to fail miserably lmao 😭
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Mattheo Riddle was not a fan of Mondays. 
Most of the time, Mattheo spent the first day of the week nursing a hangover and getting higher than a hippogriff at the Astronomy Tower with his friends to achieve equilibrium. The only thing he looked forward to every week was the prospect of riling you up in class. To be fair, it didn’t take much to get under your skin. Being himself seemed to do the trick. 
As he walked through the castle halls, Mattheo smiled to himself as he plotted out all the different ways he could provoke you on this dreadful day. For some sick and twisted reason, he reveled in the fact that only he could manage to rouse such a violent reaction out of you. There was something satisfying about the way your eyes blazed, your rosy cheeks tinged with heat as you told him off.
Maybe he'd flirt with you today. Tell you how good you looked in your short little skirt. Watch as you turned as red as the tie around your neck. His pretty little Gryffindor good girl. In Mattheo's mind, you were his to tease and taunt.
With his usual swagger, Mattheo sauntered into Advanced Transfiguration fully prepared to test out his new tactics on his nemesis, but you were nowhere to be found. 
At first, he figured that you were just running late. Throughout the duration of your rivalry, Mattheo had never once witnessed you skip class. He would’ve bet his entire cigarette supply that you’ve had perfect attendance since first year. When Professor McGonagall started the lesson and you were still missing in action, Mattheo was understandably concerned. 
The uneasy feeling in his stomach didn’t mean that he was worried about you though. This was purely about mutual benefit. Mattheo couldn’t very well have his Transfigurations partner skipping out on lessons. Even though he regularly did so himself. But still, that was different. Everyone knew he was a delinquent. You, on the other hand, were anything but. Until today, you’ve probably never missed a class in your life. 
Mattheo waited. Surprisingly, the two of you had the majority of your classes together. All of which dragged more than usual since you weren’t there to yell at him for dicking around. When you still hadn't turned up for Charms or Herbology, he became convinced that something was horribly wrong. Missing one lesson was alarming, but three in a row? That was entirely out of character for you. 
When Professor Sprout finally dismissed the class, Mattheo sauntered over to Granger’s desk. As always, she was surrounded by her two dimwit friends who immediately tensed the second he loomed near. Potter and Weasley shot him matching menacing glares, but Mattheo ignored them entirely. 
“Granger,” he drawled, leaning against the wooden desk. “Care to tell me where my partner’s been all day?” 
The Gryffindor girl appeared a bit perturbed by the question. “Why do you want to know where Y/N is?” 
Mattheo sighed in exasperation and produced the set of notes he’d taken during class. A first for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually listened to an entire lesson, let alone take notes, but he knew that you would have a million questions for him when you returned. The notes were his way of saving himself from your relentless interrogation. 
“Figured the little know-it-all would want my notes.” 
“Y/N is feeling a bit under the weather,” Hermione said cautiously. “I can take the notes to her if you’d like.” 
“No.” Mattheo declared rather suddenly. He cleared his throat and attempted to smooth over the sharp response. “No, McGonagall tasked me with it. I don’t want her docking points from my house when she finds out that you did my dirty work for me.”
Hermione raised a brow. “Sure.” The quirk of her mouth told Mattheo that she wasn’t convinced by his excuse. “Well, Y/N is resting up in the tower if you fancy a visit.” 
After a quick detour to the kitchens, Mattheo made his way over to Gryffindor tower. It was surprisingly easy to gain access to the lion’s den. He simply threatened a third year to let him in and got on with it. They truly needed to upgrade their security measures. One glare was all it took for Creevey to crumble and cave. 
With a satisfied smirk, Mattheo walked past the gaudy common room. For Salazar's sake, hadn't the Gryffindors ever heard of subtlety? The decor consisted solely of crimson and gold and the furnishings looked like something out of that muggle show his nan loved to watch—Antiques Roadshow. Antique was right. The worn out couch that he passed looked older than him.
Merlin, now he was starting to sound like Malfoy. Mattheo hurried along before he caught the urge to fold origami notes and chuck it at Potter's head. Fortunately for him, the place was devoid of the Chosen One or anyone for that matter.
By now, his fellow classmates were all in the Great Hall eating dinner, which he was thankful for. It was no secret that Mattheo’s presence wouldn’t be welcome here and he wasn’t really in the mood to fight his way through the Gryffindors just to deliver a note from the kindness of his black heart. Thank Salazar that there wasn’t a single soul in the tower to bicker with. Until he reached your dorm, of course. 
The relationship between the two of you was volatile to say the least. Despite Mattheo’s reputation, you weren’t shy about telling him off. When you were first assigned as partners, Mattheo had fully intended to let you do all the work while he skipped class to smoke, but he quickly realized that this would not be the case. You hunted him down at his hideout in the Astronomy Tower and discovered him blissfully sharing some premium grade mirthroot with Theo and Draco. When you found him, you were so angry that you dragged him by the ear all the way to the library, much to the amusement of his friends. Needless to say, Mattheo never missed a study session again. 
In a way, Mattheo admired you for it. Aside from his friends, everyone in the castle feared him. It was sort of refreshing to have someone call him out on his shit. Especially if that someone was a funny, feisty, ferocious Gryffindor who he enjoyed pestering every chance that he got. Mattheo always did have a penchant for girls with an attitude problem. 
Even as he knocked on your door, the Slytherin boy couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when he heard you grumbling from the other side. 
“Oh, for Godric’s fucking sake, what is it now?” 
The door swung open, revealing a very pissed off Y/N. Clad in striped pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers, you placed a hand on your hip and frowned. Even in the throes of sickness, you still somehow managed to inject venom in your glare. Mattheo grinned like an idiot. 
“Nice slippers, princess.” 
You huffed, crossing your arms. “What do you want, Riddle?” 
“To make sure my partner doesn’t slack.” He waved his set of notes around. “Don’t think your sickness excuses you from studying.”
“This is payback for making you revise with me after you fell off your broom and broke your arm, isn’t it?” 
Mattheo cringed as he recalled the quidditch accident that sent him to the infirmary for a week. In true Y/N fashion, you were sitting by his bedside with a stack of books in your lap the second he woke up. Madam Pomfrey hadn't even put his arm in a sling yet before you were drilling him on proper spell enunciation and wand movements.
“You terrorized the infirmary with your mnemonics,” Mattheo said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s my turn now. This is sweet revenge, Y/N.” 
You squinted at his barely legible handwriting. “I’m just surprised you took your head out of your arse long enough to take notes.” 
“Glad to see that illness hasn’t lessened your bite. If anything, those teeth seem a little sharper than usual.” He leaned against the doorframe and smiled down at you. “Feeling a bit feral, princess?” 
“Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?” you quipped, baring your teeth at the aggravating boy. 
The gesture appeared intimidating for a full second until you sniffled and launched into a coughing fit, which made Mattheo frown. 
“Are you alright?” 
“Of course I am. I regularly cough my lungs out on nosy Slytherins whose sole purpose of existence is to make my life a living hell.”
He pressed the back of his hand against your forehead. The way his brow furrowed strangely resembled concern. Mattheo trained his chocolate brown eyes on you, examining the rosiness of your cheeks and the slight pinch of discomfort in your features.
"You're burning up." Mattheo's hand dropped from your forehead to the side of your neck. He pressed his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the erratic beating of your heart underneath his touch. It was strangely intimate. "You have an elevated heart rate."
You flushed and swatted his hand away. "Well, yes. That usually happens when one is ill."
"Come on, you should sit down."
"Don't tell me what to do, Riddle."
Mattheo rolled his eyes before dragging you by the elbow. Your protests fell on deaf ears as he barged his way into your dorm and walked you over to the bed. You watched as he pulled up a chair next to you before rifling through the contents of his backpack. Out of the sordid mess of his belongings, Mattheo produced a small container of soup. With a flick of his wand, he conjured a spoon. 
“Here, have some of this. It should help.”
As soon as he pried the lid open, the heavenly smell of chicken noodle soup filled your senses. Mattheo scooped up an equal amount of soup and noodle and blew on it to cool it down before tilting it towards you. The sight of him offering you food like you were some helpless toddler was only slightly insulting. You swore to Godric that if Mattheo started making airplane sounds, you’d strangle the bloody twat.
 “I can feed myself, you know.” 
“Just eat the damn soup, Y/N.” 
You rolled your eyes in return, but obliged nonetheless. Despite the source, you could never resist comfort food.
“Chicken noodle soup?” 
As soon as you tasted it, you knew that it wasn’t just soup. It was your favorite soup. The very same one that Winky made every third Wednesday of the month. You knew because you looked forward to it every time. It was even marked on your calendar. That’s how much you liked it. 
Mattheo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know it’s your favorite so I bribed Winky to make some.” 
You furrowed your brows in confusion. “How do you know it’s my favorite?” 
For once in his life, Mattheo looked utterly uncomfortable. He averted his gaze and busied himself by stirring through the carrots and celery. “You, uh, mentioned it in class once.” 
You couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it was the fever talking, but you thought that was sweet. “You remembered that?” 
Mattheo looked up, a stray curl kissing the tops of his cheekbones as he met your gaze. The shy smile on his face was alarmingly endearing. Sometimes when you looked at those angelic curls and stupid big, brown eyes, you forgot that you were supposed to loathe him. “Of course. It’s my favorite too.” 
You chuckled, sniffling a little. “It’s like a hug in a cup, right?” 
The curly headed boy nodded. “It totally is.” 
After you finished the soup, you expected Mattheo to take his leave. Instead, he inspected the vials of potions laying out on your night stand. He read through every label, frowning a little. 
“You should really have some pepperup potion in here.” Mattheo remarked as he arranged the vials one by one. “Are you sure this dose is potent enough? Maybe you should ask them to brew something stronger.” 
“Pomfrey prescribed them herself. No offense, but I think I’ll take her years of healing experience over your expert opinion.” Mattheo gasped rather dramatically, which made you chuckle. “As much as I appreciate the notes and the soup, I don't think it's wise for you to stick around. I’m feeling a bit better, but I might still be contagious.” 
Mattheo shrugged. “It’s alright, I’m not scared of a little cold. Besides, I still have to go over the Transfiguration assignment with you.” 
“Aren’t you worried that I’ll get you sick?” 
“Not really,” he said, waving off your concern. “I know you’re going to pester me about everything you missed in class, so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.” 
To your surprise, Mattheo’s notes were extremely detailed.  It was a bit hard to read given his boyish scrawl, but with a little help in translation, you were making great progress in becoming fluent in Riddle. The more Mattheo explained the concepts and ideas that were discussed in each class, the more baffled you were. You've always known that he was smarter than he let on, but this was borderline impressive.
“How do you know all of that?” 
“I asked.”
“You asked?” Mattheo stared blankly at your surprised expression. “You never ask questions in class.” 
“I never had to since you're always there interrogating the professor like the little know-it-all that you are. Thanks to your absence, I had to fill your role in class today.”
You grinned. It grew wider and wider, spreading until your cheeks hurt. Mattheo glared at your joyous expression. “What? What’s that shit eating little grin for?” 
“You missed me.”
Color flooded Mattheo’s cheeks. You were surprised to find how well crimson suited him. It was almost the exact shade of your house colors. “Don’t be ridiculous—”
“Riddle, you asked questions in class. You took notes for me. You brought me chicken noodle soup." Mattheo flushed as you pointed out the obvious. "You totally missed me.” 
“If you tell anyone, I’ll hex you.” 
“Admit it, Mattheo. Your day was utterly dull without me.” 
Mattheo rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat. “Fine, you’ve got me. I was bored out of my mind without you around. How else am I supposed to pass the time if you’re not there for me to argue with?” 
“There’s plenty of other people in the castle that you could bicker with.”
“Yeah, but they’re not you.” 
He seemed a little shocked by his own statement, but he didn't try to retract it. In fact, Mattheo almost seemed resigned to it.
“Careful, Riddle. It almost sounds like you have a crush on me.” 
“I’d have to be a bloody idiot to fall for a girl who absolutely despises me.” 
“That wasn’t a denial, you know.” 
He pinched the bridge of his nose like the very idea of it vexed him, but you caught the little smile he hid beneath his fingers. Mattheo snatched the notes from your hands. “Focus on the lesson, will you?” He grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. “I can’t believe I’ve just said that. Look at what you’re doing to me, Y/N.” 
“You’ll live, Riddle.” You poked a section of his notes that you hadn’t quite deciphered. “Now what in the bloody hell is the Gobstopper Ruffian?” 
“The Goblin Rebellion. Merlin, my handwriting isn't that bad.” 
“Are you kidding? A kindergartner writes more legibly than this.” 
The hours passed while you bickered and bantered. You hated to admit it, but you missed arguing with him too. Laying in bed all day had you positively bored, but yet time passed within the blink of an eye as you went back and forth with Mattheo. Somewhere between discussing the possibility of Longbottom running an underground exotic plant ring and arguing over the best Smiths song, the sun had set over the horizon. Mattheo rubbed his eyes and yawned. 
“You look knackered, Riddle,” you teased, patting the spot beside you. “Do you want to lie down for a bit?”
Chocolate brown eyes widened at you. “Lie down? With you? On your bed?” 
“Yes, that’s typically how people do it.” You smirked as he shot you an apprehensive look. “Unless you’re too scared.”’
Never one to back down from a challenge, Mattheo lifted the covers and gestured for you to make room. “Scoot over, then.” 
The jest seemed to have backfired on you because now Mattheo was crawling into bed and making himself completely at home. All the apprehension from earlier melted as he pulled you against him, his chest pressed against your back as he nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder. You stifled a giggle as Mattheo released a satisfied little sigh. 
Mattheo wrapped his arms around you until you were covered in the scent of amber, cinnamon, and leather. You never expected to unearth the fact that Mattheo Riddle was a great cuddler, but yet here you were, reaping the benefits of this newfound revelation. He slipped his fingers through yours and nuzzled closer. 
"Who would've known that Mattheo Riddle was such a great cuddler?"
"If you tell anyone—"
"You'll hex me. Put a curse on my family. Set my possessions on fire. Yes, I know, Riddle. You keep threatening me, but you never follow through. I'm starting to think that you're losing your touch."
Mattheo squeezed your hip before twining your legs together. "I wouldn't test me, Y/N. You're in a very vulnerable position right now."
You chuckled as he scooted even closer. "Maybe, but you won't do anything."
"Why's that, princess?"
"You like me too much," you retorted, chuckling as Mattheo buried his face in your hair. "One day without me and you're already a needy mess."
"You infuriate me," Mattheo whispered against your ear. "But you're also the best part of my day. I couldn't imagine fighting with anyone else but you, my dear nemesis."
"I totally loathe you, Mattheo Riddle."
He chuckled as you snuggled into him. "I loathe you too, Y/N Y/L/N."
The irony of the statement contrasted with how tangled up you were wasn't lost on you. For two people who supposedly hated each other, cuddling with your enemy had never felt so right. The steady beat of Mattheo's heart lulled you towards sleep. You were slowly succumbing to its hypnotic lullaby until Mattheo's voice broke through the silence.
“Y/N?” He murmured against your hair.
You shifted, your eyes feeling heavy as his warmth enveloped you. “Hmm?” 
Mattheo’s voice was low and gravelly, flowing like honey in your ears. “This is nice.” 
You smiled against the pillow, staring at your intertwined fingers. “Better than chicken noodle soup?” 
You felt him grin against your skin before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on your temple. “Way better than soup.” 
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TAGLIST
@annaisabookworm @bubybubsters @criesinlies @niktwazny303 @therealallisonspear @athenalikethegoddess @clairesjointshurt @vixzwrites @elle4404
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omi-boshi · 1 month
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"I don't recall agreeing to be a glorified weighted blanket when I decided to come over." Kiyoomi chuckles from his place on your chest, legs tangling with your own, arms curled around your back. You kiss his forehead, your smile mirroring his. "You didn't? I thought it came with being a boyfriend?" "What? Crushing the love of my life with my entire body weight? I think I missed the patch notes for that update." He teases. "Oh, shut it, you loser." You roll your eyes, pulling his head closer to your chest to smother his laughter. "Just cuddle me. Please." "No," He huffs out his dissent, softened around the edges by the motions of your hands in his hair, and all the while his arms tighten around you. "You're asking for a lot after calling me a loser." You feel rather than hear his words as he mutters them into your — his — shirt. "I'm sorry, you big baby." The snort he lets out in response pulls your grin wider. "Whatever shall I do to regain your favor once more?"
He pinches you lightly for your dramatics; your exaggerated posh tone startling into a yelp. "Pancakes would be nice." A sharp inhale punctuates his words as you tug his hair harshly in retaliation, before smoothing it out in apology. "Only if we can go out and have ice cream after." "And of course, I'm paying since you'll conveniently 'forget' your wallet, huh?"
"That was one time!" He chuckles at your outburst. Turning his head just enough to leave a kiss on your collarbone, he halts your tirade before the words even have the chance to form in your throat. "Of course, baby." Then, he places one last placating kiss under your chin before both of you succumb to the coziness of the atmosphere.
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Echoes of Nightmares
The Hawkins nights were filled with secrets, mysteries, and lurking dangers. Amidst the eerie quiet, you found solace in the embrace of Mike Wheeler—a beacon of warmth and reassurance in the face of the unknown. Tonight marked a new chapter in your relationship as you and Mike shared a bed for the first time, seeking comfort and companionship in each other's presence.
As the moon cast a soft glow through the window, you settled into the bed, feeling both excitement and trepidation. The closeness brought a sense of security, but it also meant exposing the vulnerabilities that sleep often revealed.
As the night wore on, your dreams took an unexpected turn, descending into a harrowing nightmare. The weight of fear gripped your chest, stealing the air from your lungs. In the midst of the darkness, you gasped for breath, jolting awake in a state of panic.
The sudden movement stirred Mike from his slumber. He blinked away sleep, his eyes adjusting to the dimly lit room. As he noticed your distress, his instincts kicked in, and he reached out to touch your trembling form.
"Hey," he whispered softly, his voice a soothing melody amidst the chaos of your racing thoughts. "You're safe. It was just a dream."
You struggled to catch your breath, the remnants of the nightmare still clinging to your senses. But the sound of Mike's voice and the warmth of his touch began to anchor you in reality. Gradually, the panic subsided, replaced by a longing for comfort.
Mike pulled you closer, enveloping you in a tender embrace, his arms offering a shield against the remnants of the nightmare. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his touch a balm that soothed the lingering echoes of fear.
"I'm here," he murmured, his voice filled with unwavering certainty. "You're not alone. I won't let anything harm you."
His words, laced with love and protectiveness, resonated within your soul, quieting the restless whispers of the night. As you buried your face against his chest, you felt the steady rhythm of his heart, a reassuring reminder of his unwavering presence.
With each breath, the tendrils of the nightmare loosened their grip, and a sense of calm washed over you. The world outside the confines of the bed faded away, leaving only the intimacy of the moment—the unspoken bond between two souls seeking solace in each other's arms.
Mike continued to hold you, his touch a gentle anchor that guided you back to the realm of dreams. His fingers traced soothing circles on your back, his whispers of comfort mingling with the soft cadence of his heartbeat.
As fatigue seeped into your bones once more, you felt the tendrils of sleep beckoning you back. Your racing thoughts settled, and a sense of peace settled over your being. It was in this embrace, amidst the darkness and vulnerability, that you found solace—a testament to the healing power of love and understanding.
And as you succumbed to the pull of slumber, Mike remained a steadfast guardian, his presence a constant reminder that you need not face the nightmares alone. Together, you ventured into the realm of dreams, entwined in a love that could chase away the shadows and bring light to even the darkest corners of the night.
a/n: i'm so vulnerable when i sleep because i always end up cuddling people no matter who they are to me lol. one time i fell asleep on a hotel bed with a friend and she told me that i hugged her arm while i was sleeping.
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classicalchan · 6 months
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liar
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pairing: bangchan x f! reader
rating: sfw
tags: sharing a bed, just pure softness, cuddling, best friends to lovers, pining, confessions, tired chan
wc: i'm too lazy to count but idk it's probably 2k 😭(I'm definitely wrong)
your doorbell rings when it's close to midnight, its sound reverberating through every corner of your little apartment. your socked feet carry you from bed to the door on autopilot. you weren't sleeping, but you were nearly there.
you open up your front door and off-white light from the hallway spills shamelessly into your dark living space. Chan stands there, bag slung lazily across his shoulder, eyes droopy with sleep.
"they borrowed my place for a party i don't wanna be at," he declares. "I'm sleeping here."
he walks in without waiting for an answer, wrapping you in a quick, one-armed hug for a greeting on his way. his bag finds its place on your couch. he switches a couple of lamps on here and there and fixes a photo frame on his way to your bathroom with a towel and some clothes in hand.
you kind of like how it's so natural for him to be at your place. like he belongs here. like he could live here.
you wished he would.
you lay back in bed, shifting to a side, leaving the rest of the space for Chan. ever since you first cuddled up with him a few months ago, it became an unspoken rule between you to always sleep cuddled up when alone.
it was one of the best parts of your friendship with him. you could abandon every care in the world when he was around and just be. He was always there- gentle, warm, protective, kind. everything you wished for in a man.
everything you can't have.
it had been weeks since you had gone to bed without thinking of him. even in the face of extreme exhaustion and no contact, Chan never failed to slip into your thoughts. he needed to compensate you for all the nights you couldn't sleep just because he did something adorable during the day and you wouldn't stop thinking about it.
he needed to apologize for every time you accidentally called one of your friends by his name, just because he wouldn't leave your head.
and he needed to desperately make up for nights like these. nights when he would touch you and let you touch him, but never enough. there was always a weighted, invisible boundary you hated with all your guts. a burning line you couldn't cross.
so, over the days, you had learned to make peace with what you got, no matter how little. you had learned to make the most of his arms around you, the firmness of his torso pressed to your back, the warmth of his breathing behind your ear, his occasional sleepy rambling.
sometimes he said your name.
before you knew it, the mattress dips beside you, the familiar scent of Chan's shampoo filling up your senses. you came alive a little.
his arm slips across your middle, pulling you as close as humanly possible into the abyss that was his warmth. you could spend an eternity here without a syllable of protest falling from your lips.
“i don’t have a shirt on, is that okay?” he mumbles into your hair.
more than okay, you wanted to say but for the sake of the friendship you had spent years building, you resorted to a small hum. he usually slept barely clothed, but when with you, he always asked. he made sure never to cross any lines. he was cautious, reserved. too far.
“is everything okay?” you ask. “you usually do not turn down a chance to party.”
you feel him move behind you, long fingers fiddling with the thin fabric of your t-shirt. he yawns like a puppy.
“i’d had a busy day,” he begins. “i needed some sleep and you know how bad i am at getting to sleep alone...”
his knuckle accidentally brushes your navel. you shiver.
“…besides you weren’t there. i’ve missed having you around y/n, now that i see it.”
your skin flushes hot, lips involuntarily swelling into a smile. you turn your face into your pillow, determined to bury your happiness into the fluff.
“i’ve missed you too,” you confess.
his blunt nails graze against your flesh again, and you wonder how much of it was accidental anymore. could Chan tell? did he know how down bad you were for him?
“liar,” he whispers, squeezing your body lightly into his own.
he liked to do that, you had noticed. almost as if finding a way to inch closer, as if making up for the fact that there would always be some molecular distance between you no matter what.
or maybe you were just reading too much into it.
you place a hand over his own, fingertips drawing subtle lines into his pale skin, tracing the veins you stared at shamelessly in broad daylight.
“you really think i’d lie to you?”
“you wouldn’t?” he asks.
you turned around, facing him. your hand settles on his bare chest. you could feel his heart beat beneath your touch.
“no,” you confirm. “never.”
he smiles, his hair getting into his eyes as he puts his forehead against yours.
“okayyy,” he giggles. “tell me something then, since you claim to not lie.”
your heart picks up pace, hammering beneath your chest, and you were half afraid Chan might hear it. you swallow thickly, a small lump forming in your throat.
“yeah?”
his gaze wraps over you like a veil, clouding everything else just enough that he is all you can see.
"do you like me?" he whispers.
the question drops in your heart and sinks into your gut. you've been caught, red-handed. but you were so careful, so vigilant, looking but never for too long, complimenting him but being careful not to flirt, telling him you love him when he needed to hear it but taking care to conceal the love you felt.
you want to play it cool. you're scared of how it's going to go.
"duh," you say. "of course i like you, why else would we be friends?"
he clicks his tongue, a soft laugh escaping his lips. he drops a light kiss on your forehead and you sigh.
"you're not that naive," he states. "come on, I'll wait for you."
you feel your cheeks heat up. it gets harder by the second to stay still, not with chan's fingers rubbing warmth into your back, his face so close you could steal a kiss. he was no fool. he never had been. who did you think you were hiding from?
"i..." you begin, your mouth drying up. "yeah."
you feel his marble fingers slip under your chin. pressure, soft but commanding, forced you to look at him.
"you what, sweetheart?"
the endearment sent you spiraling. you squeeze his muscled shoulder, fingers digging into flesh.
"don't be an ass," you say. "i'm not gonna say it."
he chuckles. you watch his gaze move across your face, settle on your lips, and then back to your eyes again. you didn't want to think ahead of yourself.
you didn't want to break your heart.
he leaned in, his arm circling around your waist, his mouth leaving a soft kiss to your temple. you could die like this and it wouldn't be so bad.
"please," he whispers. "you said you'd be honest."
and who were you to turn down chan with his gentle voice and sturdy hands and body warmth and huge heart and ---? you could go on forever.
you grind your teeth together unconsciously, draw in a deep breath, and sigh. he knows you're giving in.
"i do like you," you admit finally. "so much more than a friend."
his palm slides up your back and finds your hair, long fingers gripping them and pulling you in. he smiles when he kisses you- mouth tasting of cinnamon and longing and want.
"fucking finally," he breathes. "you've got no idea how long i've waited for this."
you melt into a caramel puddle in his hands. you lean in again, pressing your lips onto his like he'd disappear, like this is all you've got.
taglist: @tinysoftie
NAVIGATION
join the taglist <3
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velvetwilde · 5 days
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pretty, pretty princess
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silent-stories · 1 year
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𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆
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Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader
Summary: The soft way you wake Eddie in the morning is very different from the way his father used to.
Warnings: fluff, Eddie's father being an ass
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1977
Eddie's bedroom door slammed open and his father strode in, heading for the bed where Eddie had just woken up from the loud noise.
His dad already had a bottle of alcohol in his hand even though it was only seven in the morning.
"Wake up, asshole." He said kicking the bed, making Eddie jump, "It's eight o'clock and you're already late for school."
Eddie rubbed his eyes with a hand, yawning.
Al Munson, who evidently wasn't the very patient type, grabbed the mattress and basically tipped it over, knocking Eddie, who was thin and not very tall for his age at the time, to the floor.
"If you'd woken up earlier this wouldn't have been necessary." His father mumbled walking out of the room slamming the door behind him.
Of course, it was never his fault but always Eddie's. It was easier for him that way.
Eddie rolled onto his back with a grunt and stared at the ceiling of his room.
"Well, good morning to me."
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1986
"Eddie."
He heard your soft voice calling his name and slowly opened his eyes.
"Hey, good morning. It's almost nine."
You were sitting on the edge of the bed next to him and you were wearing only one of his black Metallica t-shirts which was way too big for you. Your face was still slightly sleepy so you mustn't have woken up long before but still Eddie thought you were one of the most beautiful things he'd seen in his entire life.
Daylight was filtering through the window, lighting up Eddie's messy bedroom.
You reached out and moved a strand of dark hair from his face, your fingers gently caressed his skin.
Eddie still had to get used to that. To you waking him up in that sweet and peaceful way. Without haste, without yelling, without any kind of violence.
He still had to get used to the way you caressed his face or kissed his cheek to wake him up every time you did before him, when you spent the night at his trailer, and he still had to get used to the fact that there was no one left to kick him out of bed every morning, even though it had been years.
He sat up on the bed in front of you, the blanket slipping off his body revealing his bare chest and the tattoos covering his pale skin.
Seeing you in his shirt gave him a feeling of absolute peace, he felt like not only he felt at home and safe when he was with you but you did it too when you were with him.
"Do you wanna help me make breakfast?" You asked, a soft smile on your lips.
Eddie in response slowly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against him.
Not yet, that meant.
You giggled. "Are you okay Eds?"
He nodded as he rested his head on your shoulder and you ran your fingertips against his bare back. A shiver ran through Eddie's body but it was a good feeling.
Thank you for still being here with me, he wanted to say. Thank you for waking me up every morning like you do.
You softly ran your fingers up and down his spine for a few more moments, your gaze falling on the almost invisible freckles on his skin.
You gently brushed his hair away and planted a kiss on his bare shoulder, only realizing you'd tickled him when you heard a small, muffled laugh come from the crook of your neck where Eddie was resting his head.
Despite this he didn't ask you to stop when your lips found his shoulder again, leaving a trail of soft kisses.
During that quiet intimate moment the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your breaths and the sound of your kisses.
"I love you." He muttered as he gently pulled away from you, after some moments, and you cupped his face in your hands after tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.
"My sweet, sleepy boy." You laughed before placing a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you too."
My.
Eddie still couldn't believe it.
You took his hand in yours and got out of bed as he did the same, Eddie was still shirtless and his bare feet met the cool but pleasant floor of the trailer.
"Pancakes?" He asked as you both made your way to the kitchen.
A smile appeared on your face. "Exactly what I was thinking about."
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Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat
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dlscenarios · 3 days
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Once you weasel your way into his heart, Mammon becomes such a clingy demon. You have the pact, sure, but Mammon hates being away from you for a long time. At school, he’d follow you through the halls with either his hand in yours or on the small of your back. At home, he wraps his arms around you and refuses to let go. Most days, the two of you end up cuddling in either of your beds or on a couch in the common room. It’s strange for him to admit that a piddly little human turned him into a lover.
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k-aay · 14 days
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CUDDLES
୨୧ synopsis - even the jjk men have times that they require cuddles. this is how i'd imagine it based off random images i found off pinterest <3 ft. satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, choso kamo a.n - OMDD NANAMI IS JUST SO FINE. SO MINE. IRUHWIHDUI
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GOJO
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~ absolutely NEEDS to have as much of him wrapped around you as possible. since his infinity is constantly on, causing him to avoid physical contact with people, he loves that he could let his guard down around you. so when he could take that opportunity to just let loose, he chooses to  constantly be in contact with you as much as he could.
~ he is a 6'3 BEAST of a human. of course he takes advantage of that. he loves the size difference between the two of you and he loves throwing himself onto you whenever he could. he loves how you could just comfortably curl into a ball and letting him just wrap his arms around you so the two of you could rest. and when you choose to do the same to him (the second pic), it's just even better in his opinion. 
GETO
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~ loves having you buried into his chest or neck for some reason. maybe it's because he knows you're comfortable in that position or maybe it's because he loves having you close to him. sometimes if you're both just talking about stuff in that position, you could hear his heartbeat progressively getting faster because you just make him feel a certain type of way. it just brings him a sort of comfort anytime you're with him
~ plays with your hair as a way to calm you down if you've had a rough day. anytime you're stressed, he'll cuddle with you, stroke your hair as you vent what's happened. and eventually, you'd feel better and even fall asleep. he knows he's done his job once you've calmed down and relaxed with him and plants kisses on your forehead. 
NANAMI
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~ as long as you're comfortable, he's comfortable. let's you cuddle up with him however you want. he loves when you explore new ways to be comfortable and be yourself around him because it shows him that you're happy with him. and most of the time, he's into whatever you are too and will try his best to mirror the same behavior to make your experience even better. he cares (PLEASE i need him so bad its not even a joke anymore) 
~  the ULTIMATE princess treatment. he will do anything to ensure your comfort with him while cuddling because he finds it as a time where you could let loose and relax. will leave your favourite beverages, snacks, pillows, blankets and books nearby incase you're in need of anything. and when you fall asleep, he'd leave kisses and shift your positioning to make you more comfortable. 
CHOSO
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~ he LOVES cuddling with you. especially when he's just laying on top of you and falling asleep for hours on end (this man visibly gets no sleep). he will take every advantage to just lay flat on top of you. you're watching t.v on the couch? your boyfriend is sleeping on your lap. you're taking a nap? you wake up with him on top of you. even when you're doing work, he'll nag you until you give in to cuddling him. 
~ absolutely adores when you stroke his hair when he's cuddling you. when you first started doing running your fingers through his hair, it was like he fell in love with you all over again. the very second you stop, he will notice right away and position your hand to continue stroking his hair again. even if he's asleep, it's like his spidey-sense to know when you're stroking his hair and not. he got addicted. 
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paperultra · 7 months
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the liminal space.
Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Reader Word Count: 1,575 words Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol use [A/N: written with the cooper!reader from mise en rose in mind. i don't know where in the timeline this occurs, though. lol.]
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cingulomania (noun): a strong desire to hold a person in your arms
Living in close quarters can really change how you see a person.
Roronoa Zoro, for instance, had always struck you as rather aloof, having traveled alone for some time before you joined him, and unused to physical affection. He never gave any indication that he was one to enjoy it, and he never sought it out from anyone. That certainly wasn’t odd. You respected his tendency towards personal space, subsequently believing that it extended to his sleeping habits as well.
So when you wake up, hardly able to breathe underneath the hulking mass of a snoring swordsman, you are more surprised than anything.
“Zoro,” you wheeze, patting his back with the hand that isn’t crushed between his chest and yours. Nothing happens, so you swat harder. “Zoro. You’re crushing me.”
His arms squeeze around you as he stirs, inhaling sharply next to your ear. You stop moving as he lifts his head and opens his eyes just wide enough to register you beneath him.
He pauses.
Good morning, sunshine is what you want to say in a cheeky tone. You want to prove that you’re unaffected by the warmth of his body pressing yours into the mattress, the sensation of his breath across your cheekbone and the way his gaze transitions from something bleary into something sharp.
The greeting refuses to leave your mouth. All you can do is blink.
The next thing you know, Zoro’s rolling off of you and out of bed with nary an apology, mumbling something about going to the bathroom.
You hum distantly in response and stare up at the ceiling as he shuffles to the door. Once he closes it behind him, you reach up and fold your hands over your eyes, cheeks hot.
Great.
It all started because you and Zoro could only afford a single bed at the inn.
(You use the term “afford” loosely here. The truth of the matter is that you grossly underestimated how much a room would cost, and the owner of the one place willing to lend you a room for half the usual rate demanded physical labor to make up for the rest. Given that Zoro would be spending most of his time hunting down a bounty, the majority of the unpaid labor fell on your shoulders.)
(But you digress.)
The room is small and bare, which is fine, because you and Zoro don’t have much between the two of you anyway. The only problem is that there is only one bed. Zoro had expressed no qualms about sharing so long as you didn’t disturb his sleep, and you had readily agreed, not wanting either of you to sleep on the floor.
After the first morning, you’re not sure if that was a lapse of judgement on your part or not.
Zoro doesn’t mention it at all before he leaves for the day, and you don’t, either. However, when he comes back in the middle of the night and you’re already in bed, squinting and shielding yourself from the bright hallway light as he takes his slippers off and walks in, he sits on the carpet just a few feet away from your side.
“What are you doing?” you ask as he proceeds to lay down.
“Sleeping.”
He closes his eyes and folds his arms behind his head. You frown.
“Why aren’t you sleeping up here?” No answer. You lift your head from your pillow, indignant. “Hey, don’t ignore me! I know you’re still awake.”
“I’ve had a long day,” he grumbles, “so I’d like some quiet so I can sleep. Thanks.”
You huff.
The thought that Zoro might actually be just as embarrassed flits briefly through your mind, but you extinguish it just as quickly. He’s never seemed like the kind of guy to be self-conscious about those kinds of things. A more likely reason is that he’s decided that he wants his own separate space after all and can’t be bothered to kick you off the bed.
So, you kick yourself off instead.
“What are you doing?” The phrase now comes from Zoro as you throw the covers off and grab your pillow, kneeling on the ground beside him. His eyes open and his brow furrows.
“Take the bed. I feel guilty.”
“I don’t want the bed.”
“Everybody wants the bed.” You lie down on the carpet and cross your arms over your chest, stubborn. “I’ve already slept in it. Now it’s your turn.”
“You’re an idiot,” Zoro says.
Neither of you budge.
The next morning, you decide that the first morning was in fact not a fluke, as you awake with your face smushed against his chest and the smell of steel in your nose once again. He’s not on top of you, at least, but the way he clutches you while you’re lying on your side, one ankle hooked over yours, is somehow ten times more mortifying. You wake him up in the midst of untangling yourself and pretend like nothing happened.
Who’s the idiot now? (The answer is both of you. Both of you are idiots.)
The third night, you and Zoro flop onto the hard mattress with twin groans, heads spinning and feeling overall miserable.
“That was the shittiest booze I’ve ever had,” Zoro slurs next to you, face down in his pillow.
“But you got a lead, right?” you mumble.
“Yeah …”
You had been there in the bar when he’d gotten that lead, but you can’t remember what it was for the life of you. Another inn? Another bar? Ugh, you’re never drinking there again.
“I’m cold.”
There are blankets on the bed. Unfortunately, getting underneath them would require a lot of moving, and you are physically incapable of exerting yourself that much right now.
You shiver and turn onto your side to curl up. You’ll fall asleep at some point, anyway.
Zoro murmurs your name.
“Hm,” you groan, eyes screwed shut.
He doesn’t say anything in reply. But you hear the mattress squeak, the bedsheets rustle as he shifts closer, and your breath catches when the small distance between you closes. He does not wrap his arms around you, no, but your knees touch, and the heat from his skin melds into yours. You hear his breathing slow to a crawl.
Through your drunken haze breaks through a sudden need to draw him into you, to tuck your face into his neck and keep it there forever. You want – you want. But you’re exhausted, and your head aches, so you find yourself slipping into a deep slumber instead.
He’s already gone when you wake up.
A suspiciously lumpy gunnysack in the corner of the room catches your eye once you enter, hand over your mouth to stifle a yawn.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Eight million beri,” Zoro says from his seat on the bed. Cleaning supplies for his swords are strewn around him, and he sheathes the Wado Ichimonji as you close the door. “I ran into another bounty on the way back.”
“Eight mill –” You clear your throat. “Wow. That was pretty lucky.” Eight million beri. Sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever get used to how much bounty hunters can make. (God, that would’ve been more than enough to pay for the room.) “We’re heading out to a marine base tomorrow morning, then?”
“That’s the plan.”
He puts away his supplies, setting them and his swords against the wall near his pillow before standing up to pull down the sheets on his side. You turn off the bedside lamp and do the same, crawling in with a sigh.
The two of you simply lie side-by-side until you decide to break the silence with your big mouth again.
“Am I a burden to you?” you ask.
“No.” The plainness of Zoro’s tone is a small comfort, you suppose. “Why are you asking?”
“Well …” You already regret bringing this topic up as you trail off, biting your bottom lip. “I feel like I haven’t really done much. I mean, I help with navigating and searching crowds and stuff, and I’ve been getting better at fighting, but I can’t help you, you know?” You fiddle with your fingers. “You don’t actually need me.”
There’s a gap between you and Zoro that you’ll likely never be able to close. You had always known that, and so had Zoro; in fact, he had told you at the start that going with him was a bad idea, given your inexperience in bounty hunting and traveling in general. And although you’d like to think that your ability to read a map and fix things convinced him of your usefulness, there are times when you think Zoro regrets bringing you along. Like now.
Zoro grunts, turning to lay on his back. His shoulder nearly lands on your hands, and you draw them to yourself as you wait for his answer.
It is brief and straightforward.
“I’m not forcing you to go with me,” he says. “And if you were a burden, I would’ve told you a long time ago.”
“Oh.”
It is brief and straightforward, and yet, there’s a strange lump in your throat. You swallow it and nod, even though he cannot see you do so.
Nothing more is said. However, as the night goes on, you reach out, and you find him, and Zoro finds you, and the space between your arms fills up with warmth and an unspoken promise. And you sleep very well.
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