[baby Fever ] Ft. Kageyama Tobio

[baby fever ] ft. kageyama tobio

wc: 300

divider from @/cafekitsune

iwaizumi | ushijima | atsumu | osamu | sakusa

“Have you ever thought about having a kid?” 

“A kid?” you echo. 

He nods, the sunset light dyeing his face in an orange-red hue. 

“Tobio,” you laugh lightheartedly. “Is this what you’re thinking so hard about?”

He looks put out by your laugh, the sure signs of a budding Tobio Tantrum. “Yeah.” 

“Tobio, we’re so young! Maybe one day…” 

He nods, but you’ve known him for so long, you notice the slight puff of his cheeks and jut of his bottom lip. 

“Tobio, are you seriously pouting about this?” 

“‘M not pouting. I don’t pout.” he says as he crosses his arms over his chest. Turns his cheek away from you. 

Tobio gets like this with you sometimes. And he always gets over it. So you just laugh his attitude off and continue the walk home with a sullen Tobio toddling behind you. 

It’s only later that night when the two of you are in bed that he broaches the topic again. 

“But the others have them already,” he grumbles against your back. 

“What?” you say, turning around to face him in the darkness. 

“I thought you were asleep.” 

“Nope. What did you say?” 

He tucks his chin inward, hiding his face. “Oikawa already has kids. Even stupid Hinata has ‘em.” 

“Tobio,” you sputter in disbelief. “It’s not a contest!” 

“But I’m ready.” he says, blue eyes clear and sure even in the dark. “And I love you. Don’t you?” He looks at you expectantly. 

“I guess I’ve just never thought seriously about it. But… I don’t not want a baby with you.” you offer hesitantly. 

He lights up like a christmas tree. “You mean it?” 

“Yeah, I mean, I love you and…”

He doesn’t let you finish because he’s already all over you, body flipped on top of yours, hands reaching under your shirt, and lips tracing your face. 

“Love you too. Love you so much…” he slurs between kisses. 

And you were going to finish your thought by saying that the two of you need to talk it through thoroughly, preferably when you aren’t drunk with sleep, but his kisses are turning you into mush and now you’re feeling drunk on something else and this one’s a secret, but the image of your pouting Tobio gives you visions of a future baby who pouts exactly like their father.

too pretty!

featuring : matsukawa issei the loml <3

notes : you're jealous your bf is too pretty

you're aware that your friends are very attractive. 

oikawa's somewhat charming personality easily grabs a girl's attention, iwaizumi's buff figure immediately turns heads whenever he enters a room and makki had this boyish ruggish look that somewhat looks cute to some people. it's normal seeing them being hit on by girls and sometimes it's like a form of entertainment for you.

but your boyfriend on the other hand, now this is new.

you've been together since high school. you've always found issei attractive. he's not a smooth talker like oikawa, but his attentiveness and response when you talk to him makes you feel seen and heard. he doesn't seem as built as iwaizumi at first glance, but underneath those baggy clothes hid something you're glad only you can see and touch. he's not as easy going as makki, but the way he spontaneously shows up at your house at 3 in the morning when you're upset tells you maybe he's easy going when it comes to you. 

so falling in love with him was inevitable because all the things he does with you and only you are attractive. 

but you're not the only one who thinks that anymore. 

see, after your boyfriend figured out his own style that weren't baggy clothes and instead fitted his physique and also found a way to style his usual mess of a bedhead into luscious curls, he suddenly became attractive to everyone around him. 

and it pissed you off. he was always attractive without the sudden change but now its like that's all people see. 

like when you visited oikawa and iwaizumi at the gym and the manager shamelessly flirted with issei the moment you left to greet them. or when you visited makki with him at the cafe he worked at and makki's coworker only paid attention to issei and completely ignored you. or when you were out grocery shopping and left issei for five minutes only to come back to a girl who had the audacity to ask if he was single.

so yeah you're pissed off. and there's only one logical way to fix this.

"what are you doing?" issei asks as you settle down on his lap and ruffle his already done up hair. "baby, i just fixed it."

"i know. i'm ruining it." 

instead of being mad his hair is being messy, he raises an eyebrow instead. "but then we're gonna be late."

"you'll go out like this then." 

he has this amused smile now. "okay, what's up with you?"

"nothing." you said, somewhat proud of your work. "just fixing you up."

"this is the opposite of fixing me up, babe." he took your hands and plants kisses across your palms, then he rests his own hands on your hips. "why are you making me look like i just made out with you? there are other ways to achieve that." 

in another situation you would cave in but you had a mission. "you're too good looking. i'm trynna make you look less good looking."

this time, he laughs. "gee thanks babe. i appreciate the compliment." 

"i'm serious." you pout, though issei just keeps on laughing. "you're too pretty and girls are swooning all over you and you don't even do anything about it."

"whoa what," he stops, eyes locking onto yours. "who's swooning over who now?"

"everyone is all over you. can't you tell?" you huff when you realize his bed head makes him look even more attractive. damn it.

"honestly no." he says simply. "and you're…jealous?"

"i'm not jealous. i'm pissed. there's a difference."

"pretty sure they're the same thing, babe."

you squish his cheeks, framing his face with your hands. "stop being so pretty."

he chuckles and brings his hands up to cover yours. "this is really bothering you, huh?"

"maybe just a tad bit."

"you know i only got eyes on you, right?" he takes your hands off and leans in so you both are nose to nose.

"i've been told so once or twice."

"once or twice?"

"maybe hundreds of times but who's counting."

"and you know im stuck with you forever, right?"

"mhm," you indulge him by wrapping your arms around him, "you better be."

"so there's no reason for you to get all jealous." he says, eyebrows raising up as if an idea popped into his head. "what if you just kiss me if that happens?"

"like stake my claim? what are we, animals?" 

"i mean that's what i've been doing when guys hit on you."

"it is? wait, back up, when has that happened?"

"you're delusional if you think guys don't hit on you."

"they don't!"

"yeah well they don't get the chance to do it properly because my radar is just too good."

"oh my god, you're serious."

"deadass. and lemme tell you, it always works." he says proudly. "i get to turn you into mush and also send a warning to other guys. win-win situation."

"i do not turn to mush."

"really now?" he wiggles his eyebrows. "want a reminder?"

you think you've indulged him quite enough so you flick his forehead instead. he winces. good.

"so you don't mind?" you said, narrowing your eyes playfully. "you don't mind me staking my claim on you next time it happens?

"baby, please, I encourage it." he says, almost too quickly.

you giggle, feeling some sort of satisfaction that your boyfriend is all on board with you staking your claim in front of people. it should make you feel shy or embarrassed but it kind of makes you feel giddy instead. but he doesn't need to know that yet.

tempted to do a pt2 but it's just me reader making out w issei

I have a request for Astarion ! What if reader is usually the one being seduced by Astarion (because that's how he is) but reader one day does the very chivalrous hand kissing to Astarion after maybe protecting him from an enemy?

Rizz if you will.

It's Called Chivalry, Darling

pairing : astarion x (gn) reader

summary : astarion makes a point to be chivalrous so you return the favour to distract him from being worried.

warnings :talk about weapons and fighting, reader gets hurt.

a/n: thanks sm for your request :). i tried my hardest to execute this idea, i hope you like it anon :0 (i have not played baldurs gate)

“I think we could stock up there. ” You point to a row of buildings, signs practically unreadable, grabbing the attention of the others in your group. They all hum in agreement before heading off in their own directions. The only store you assume you’ll be needing is a general store, so you head in that direction. 

You reach for the handle but someone else's hand beats you to it, pulling it open for you. Turning to look, you make eye contact with the ever handsome Astarion, smirk tugging at his lips. 

“Why’re you opening the door for me? What do you want?” You point an accusatory finger in his face, causing him to chuckle. His laugh is so soft it almost makes you drop your finger. 

“It’s called chivalry, my dear. You aren’t familiar?” He follows behind you as you enter the store, rolling your eyes at him. The store is mostly empty, besides a few men looking through the wares available. But even with all the open space for him to walk, Astarion seems to tail you as if the store is crowded. 

“Ooh get some more of that stuff, remember you used it on me? It made that cut on my arm feel like nothing.” He points from behind you at a healing balm in a small, glass jar. You stop in your tracks to grab it, causing Astarion to push into your back, and you look back at him with a confused stare. 

“Why’d you stop? ” His brows are furrowed, face close to yours.

“Why are you walking so close to me?”

“I just can’t stand to be far from you, my love,” He places his hand on his chest dramatically, voice incredibly theatrical as if he wasn’t already dramatic enough. You're sure that people in the store are shooting glances your way but, unusually, you can't bring yourself to care.

Not when Astarion is looking down at you with playful eyes and a giddy smile on his face. He looks so sweet like this, so free of worry and attitude, his guard is down. But you can't let him realize your thoughts, so before he could even notice your staring you force your face to remain as stoic as before.

You once again roll your eyes then continue your search for anything the group may need. Once you finish you head towards the door, making a point to open the door for yourself which causes Astarion to grunt in disapproval. 

The group finds each other once more and you head out of town, fully prepared for what might be ahead. At least that's what you think, maybe a stupid thought considering you're never truly safe on this perilous journey.

As you travel along the trail, your group seems to split off into its own smaller groups. Whispering and laughing with eachother, making far too much noise in your opinion. And Astarion, slowly trickling from the front all the way to the back where you're walking, finds his place beside you. 

“Why do you always walk so far towards the back? That’s a dangerous position for someone as small as you, no one to keep you safe from behind.” He chuckles to himself as he notices your brows furrow. 

“There’s nobody to annoy me either.” His hand flys to his chest, pretending to be hurt once more, his pace faltering ever so slightly then catching up with you again. 

“Ouch. How you wound me so with your cold words darling.” 

“Astarion, if you wish to accompany me in the back I’d appreciate if..” Your sentence is cut off with a yelp of surprise as you trip over a dip in the road, stumbling forwards. But you don’t fall very far, Astarion’s hand gripping onto your wrist and pulling you towards him. Your chest hits his, and you take a moment to regain your bearings before taking a step away from him.

He raises your hand, still in his grip, up to his lips and places a gentle kiss on the top of your knuckles, “You must be more careful, darling. Don’t want you getting hurt.” 

You know your face is pink, you can feel it, and the smirk on his face solidifies your worry, but you remain composed and give him a simple nod as you pull your hand away. 

“Shall I hold your hand to ensure you don’t trip again?”

“In your dreams, fangs.” He smiles, it's always so soft during these moments, and the sight alone almost causes you to take back your words and give in to his offer, but you stand your ground and keep your hands close to your hips. Astarion lets out a small laugh at this.

You continue to walk in peaceful silence, Astarion making small quips so the air is never truly silent around you. You've come to realize that Astarion can't stand silence whenever he's around you, and he makes a point to keep the noise level up. But when his tone shifts, and he becomes quieter, you take a peak around. You notice that the group is much closer than before but you don’t mind. Safety in numbers and what not. 

But something feels off. It’s eerily quiet. Not even the whistle of a bird and you swear the wind has stopped entirely. And you think the rest of your group notices as well, perhaps the reason that they had moved closer was so they wouldn’t be caught off guard. Their hands stay on their weapons ready to take them out. 

And then it happens. A group of goblins jump from the surrounding forest and circle around your party. Usually something as small a threat as a goblin would be no problem but in such large numbers they might prove to be a problem. When they initiate a fight, thrusting their blades towards you, you draw your blade. 

Slowly, you pick off goblins, one by one. They’re stronger than you expected and their weapons are much nicer than the ones you had encountered in the past. But you keep your guard up and they’re unable to land a blow on you. It’s when the amount of goblins in front of you is reduced that your guard is let down even the slightest. And your focus shifts. Not the smartest move.

You look around you, realizing that Astarion is no longer by your side.

In your state of distraction, a goblin is able to strike you, leaving a relatively large cut on your arms and cutting the arm of your shirt into a tattered piece. The pain causes you to refocus for a moment, just enough to kill the goblin before you look back towards Astarion.

When your eyes reach his position, your heart drops to your stomach. He is completely surrounded and you're certain that he is unaware just how shitty his situation is. So without a second thought, you leave the goblins in front of you behind, and rush over to him. 

Swinging your blade with as much force as you can muster, you kill the goblins behind him and grab his wrist to pull him out of his unfortunate position. You kill another, after ensuring he is no longer in the way. The two of you pick the goblins off together, standing back to back. And when the fight is over you finally allow yourself a moment to breathe. 

But it doesn’t last long. 

Astarion pushes at your shoulder, causing you to stumble forward, you hardly catch yourself but you do. When you’ve found your footing you straighten up, turning to him with furrowed brows, “What was that for?” 

“Why would you do that?” His tone is so aggressive it catches you off guard, “You could’ve gotten hurt! How could you be so irresponsible? Look at your arm, Gods!"

He holds your arm in his hands, hesitating for a moment before ripping off a piece of his own shirt. Gently, he pushes the arm of your shirt up to uncover your wound and begins to wrap the piece of cloth around the wound with shaky fingers, muttering curse words under his breath.

“You could’ve been killed Astarion! I would’ve gladly gotten hurt in order to prevent that.” You try to keep your cool. The pain is hardly noticeable with the amount of adrenaline pumping through your body. And you honestly find yourself more worried about him being angry with you Obviously, he’s yelling in your face, but it might just be shock getting to him. 

“Why would you do that for me? That is absolutely ridiculous.” He huffs, throwing his hands in the air, then allows them to fall back down to his sides. And an idea suddenly enters you brain. 

Slowly, with caution to not annoy him further, you reach for his still shaky hand. He stares at you, brows furrowed, but he doesn’t pull away. Gently, you place your lips against his bloodied knuckles, making an effort not to hurt his already irritated skin.

“It’s called chivalry, Astarion. You aren’t familiar?” You notice the smallest change in his eyes as they soften, even a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He isn’t mad, just worried. And you know that all the annoyance has fled his body at your attempt to make fun of him and his flirtatious remarks. Honestly, he's a little flattered you remember what he said, and flustered from you playing his own game against him.

You take a step closer, placing a hand on the side of his face to pull him in closer, to plant a soft kiss to his cheekbone. His curls touch your fingertips, and you take the opportunity to play with his soft hair for a moment. When you pull away, a pink tint lingers on his skin, allowing color to flow on his beautiful face. “You know I don’t want you getting hurt.”

This time he lets out a soft laugh, “That’s enough, darling. I understand what you’re doing, you can stop mocking me.” He turns away from you, but you rush to his side, wrapping your hands around his arms. You lean into him, resting your head near his shoulder as you look up at him.

“Shall I hold onto you so you don’t trip, my dear?” You mock his usual flirty tone, and he pushes your head away gently in an attempt to hide the color rushing to his face, ruffling your hair up.

“What, I'm not allowed to flirt with you but you can do it to me?”

"That's exactly right, my dear."

You Hate Me

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Sooooo I wrote this one morning when even just laying down had my knees hurting and I was like,, well what if Tav had that too? Also inspired by the fact I get to campus an hour early and still try to rush to the (empty) classroom instead of, ya know, taking advantage of the huge time buffer I give myself

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of joint pain, insecurity, crying, possibly OOC, clown mention

Word Count: 1,545

Masterlist

AO3

Just a bit further. A little further and then you could rest. If you make it to that tree - make it to that tree and you can sit down. Just a bit left to go.

It started almost a week ago. Unable to cope with all the traveling, your right knee started bothering you. With every step you could feel your kneecap shifting back and forth with a dull click. Then, it started to hurt. Nothing serious. If you walked slow enough, you could avoid it. But now every step sent shocks of pain up your entire leg. Your left knee joined the party this morning, removing any sense of relief you had while walking. Even sitting down didn't remove the pain, but you couldn't afford a day off.

Your companions noticed the changes, despite your best effort not to show any outward discomfort. You moved slower, the occasional grimace slipped through, they weren't traveling quite as far. You consider asking Shadowheart for anything that could ease the pain, but you already knew there was little she could do to help. So you grit your teeth and kept going.

Your foot stepped on uneven ground and you nearly dropped from the agony that shot through your whole body. Karlach worried you might actually just collapse. But you kept going.

Astarion couldn't bear it. None of them could - they hated seeing their intrepid leader fight their own body just to go a few more feet - but your struggle settled like a boulder in his stomach. Every time your face scrunched up, every hiss of your sharp inhales, felt like someone had stabbed a knife in his chest and was twisting it ever deeper. He hated the feeling.

With only a few long strides, he slipped from the back of the group to the front, walking alongside you. He had to change his normal gait just so he didn't surpass you. "Darling," he hummed quietly, just loud enough to keep the conversation between you two, "you should rest."

You shook your head. You didn't even spare him a glance. Your eyes didn't shift from the tree. "We're almost there," you dismiss. It's slightly breathless. Despite needing to walk slow to avoid the pain, you were pushing to go faster.

He tsked. "And how far do we still have left to go?" He tilted his head as he looked at you, already knowing whatever distance you said would be too far.

You nodded to a tree dead ahead. "Once we reach that birch, we can rest."

"That birch?" He pointed. "The birch tree that's nearly half a mile away?"

He could feel you bristle with his incredulous tone, but you didn't say anything.

He scoffed. "My dear, I can be stubborn at the best of times, but this is ridiculous! You're barely staying upright as it is."

"I'm fine-"

"No, you're not," he sharply cuts you off. He grabs your arm and pulls you to a stop, holding you there with enough force that you wouldn't slip out and keep going. You refuse to look at him even now. "You're wincing, your hands have been clenched for the last mile, and you keep stumbling. The tree will still be there if you just sit down for a minute."

The rest of the party watches from a distance. Far enough away they can just make out what Astarion's saying, especially as his voice rises in pitch the more frustrated he gets.

Standing still hurts. It's hard to say if it hurts more or less than walking; it just hurts. Your face is pinched as sharp jolts run up through your joints, like someone is poking you with a sewing needle. Walking, you decide, must be better than this.

"It's not that far," you insist, voice low. "And when we get there, we can-"

"Gods above, you're impossible! Fine. Fine! You want to get to that tree, fine." He lets go of your arm.

Before you can even take a step, he's sweeping you into his arms, supporting you with one arm under your back and the other hooked under your knees. The pressure hurts for a moment, but it quickly fades away. The lingering aches are from pushing yourself too hard. He begins marching once more toward your end goal.

You want to shout, to demand he put you down. But when you look up at his face, his eyes are sharper than usual, lips pulled into a tight frown and crease forming between his eyebrows. He's angry.

He's angry with you.

The words die in your throat. You hate being so dependent. You were the leader - you needed to be strong and fearless and without weakness. To receive help feels like someone plunging their hand between your ribs and stealing away a chunk of your worth. But seeing Astarion upset, upset with you, that stings far worse.

You avoid looking over his shoulder. You could just imagine their faces. How Lae'zel would scowl at you for being weak. How Gale's face would turn somber when he realizes you're not as capable as he thought. You couldn't bear it. So you press your forehead to Astarion's neck and stare at your lap.

There's an unwelcome burn at the back of your eyes. Shame floods your chest and crawls up your throat until it chokes you. Water pools along your lower lids and blurs your vision. You can't walk and now you're going to cry. Just how fucking pathetic can you be?

Astarion's head shifts and you can tell he's trying to look down at you. He's trying to see your face. Because he can feel you shaking in his arms. He can hear your lungs quivering as your breaths become uneven and choppy. You press your closed eyes against his throat and he can feel the hot tears against his skin.

His frown softens, though you can't see it. He slows down to a stop and tells the others to go on ahead, to the birch tree just there, and start working on setting up camp, but all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears. Their faces become fraught with worry; Karlach is the last to go. She still looks back once or twice. Astarion finds a suitable rock and he sits.

"Shh, sweet thing," he cooes, voice no louder than a whisper. His arm around your back pulls you into his shoulder, hand tangling in your hair as he cradles you. His other hand rubs soothing circles along your thigh. You gasp around a sob, body curling further into itself, into him, as you release your emotions. "It's alright."

You strangle out an apology. It's wet and croaky and painful.

"Whatever for?" he asks.

"You're mad at me," you whimper.

He huffs. The frustration from before rises in him again just thinking about it. "Yes, I am."

He feels your breath catch in your throat, and the heaving breath you take after. "You hate me."

Astarion laughs, short and sharp. "Why would I hate you, dear? Because you're too stubborn for your own good?" You don't have a response for him. He kisses your head, wherever he can reach. "I'm mad because you put yourself out trying to solve all of our issues, but the moment you have one of your own, you refuse any help. You're going to tear yourself apart."

He sighs and rests his cheek atop your head. His fingers rub the nape of your neck, gently tugging at the hair there. You carry so much tension, it's a wonder your muscles haven't locked up from the stress.

Time passes slowly in his arms. It seems to take forever before you start to calm down, and even longer before your eyes have dried. He does nothing to speed the process aside from gently hush you when you try to choke out apologies.

You sniffle quietly. Your eyes are raw, and you're all too aware of the stain of water you've left on the vampire's neck. When you speak, it's a painful creak in your vocal chords. "You don't hate me?"

He presses another kiss to your head. "No, love, I don't hate you. Not unless you've done something truly horrific, like invite a clown to show up at camp in the middle of the night." You chuckle weakly. It's such sweet music. "Gods forbid you start donating to charity." You laugh this time, and Astarion's chuckle vibrates against your ear.

His fingers detangle themselves from your hair with one last gentle tug, and his arm wraps around your back once more. As though you weigh no more than one of his pillows, he stands once more with you in his safe grasp, and begins heading for camp. He can see Karlach up ahead light up when she sees you're finally on your way.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I just feel so... useless, like this."

"Please, stop apologizing," he begs, dramatically. "Just say 'thank you' and we can move on."

You peel your face from his skin, dried tears sticking you together. You wince at how disgusting this must be for him. You lean up and kiss his cheek. He smiles at the affection. "Thank you."

Softer, he says, "Of course, my love."

when lucifer falls in love

content + warnings: minor s1 of og! game spoilers, discussions of death, nightmares, hurt/comfort, lucifer's regretting the past again // [masterlist]

word count: ~1.2k

it’s the dead of the devildom night. not a single creature dares to stir in the house of lamentation, to interrupt the heavy darkness that lays claim to the kingdom like a siege, like a thick blanket over a fragile child. the night is oppressive at this hour. hell freezes over each night– sizzling temperatures plummet to biting cold, a violent swing that dares all to be prepared for any weather. 

it starts as uncharacteristic shuffles. tossing and turning at an hour he should usually be asleep, shifting from one side to another without waking. sweat peppers his hairline. his fingers twitch once, twice, eyelids fluttering restlessly. something’s going wrong. where there should be peace, there’s chaos, his dreams infested with something dark and unpleasant. 

lucifer morningstar wakes violently with a nightmare. 

his body jerks in panic, rising to a seated position before he can even fathom what’s going on. adrenaline floods his veins. fear grips him hard, and his labored breathing is the only sound that fills his senses for several long moments. 

memories swirl together at the top of his consciousness, a glossy oil slick of tangible emotion and thought. 

the great celestial war. bloodshed. the violent division of his family, of heaven itself, at the folly of his own pride. he can feel lilith’s body limp in his arms, chest rising with strained effort, her own blood soiling the angelic robes she once wore. she was beautiful. so innocent and pure. her only folly was falling victim to a love that should have never existed. a love he should have stopped earlier on, should have reigned in before things continued to deteriorate. his fault. it’s his fault that everything went down the way it did. 

the sound of your breathing finally catches his attention when his own begins to steady out. you’re fast asleep next to him– it’s a nice indication that he was able to hold in the cry that burned his throat as to not disturb your peaceful slumber. humans need their rest, after all. 

lucifer slips from his spot in his bed next to you. the bed shifts silently like a willing accomplice, letting his exit go unnoticed. a quick glance over his shoulder– you’re still unconscious, blissfully unaware of his departure– and he stumbles out into his office. 

he flicks his wrist haphazardly and the fireplace sparks to life. tired feet carry him to a nearby chair and he slumps, defeated into the cushions. 

in the dead of night, when he’s alone, his mind wanders to his mistakes. some nights, like tonight, they creep into his dreams– regret, uncertainty, moments of tranquility ruined by the stormcloud of war creeping into the foreground. was he wrong to fight against his Father? did his pride, his actions– have his siblings all been damned in ways they wouldn’t have had he discouraged them from following him? if he had stopped lilith from falling in love with that human in the first place, would his brothers be happier? would lilith still be alive?

that’s the thing about hindsight. he doesn’t know what the best decision was. in another life, maybe lilith lived– but he’ll never know. 

“lucifer?”

his name is garbled and groggy as it falls from your lips. he’s surprised to see you in the doorway– were you not asleep just a few minutes ago?

“yes, my love?”

“what are you doing up? i–” a yawn interrupts you, and you shift on your feet uncomfortably. “-- i missed you.”

an awkward lump settles in his throat. he didn’t realize that you’d noticed his absence. your expression shifts from exhaustion to concern, rubbing your eyes with your fingertips to adjust to the light. 

“i– couldn’t sleep.” he rasps the lie with ease. he doesn’t have the willpower to explain what was really going through his mind.

your bare feet pad quietly across the hardwood floors, steady and lethargic, as you make your way to his side. he watches each step carefully. you still next to him and press a soft, warm kiss to his forehead. 

you’re sweet. that’s the first thing he thinks when your lips find his skin, now tacky from cooling sweat as he reels in his own panic. it’s hard to be so upset when he’s next to you. your hands find the sides of his face and cradle him oh-so-delicately, like too rough a touch will make him scurry off into the darkness. 

“do you want to talk about it?”

he shakes his head. 

“alright,” you murmur, kissing the top of his head and taking a step back. your fingers linger on the side of his face a moment longer before they fall to your sides. “just– don’t stay up too late, alright?”

he nods, watching you shuffle off to the bedroom once again. his heart beats rapidly in his chest from the lingering panic, but it starts to calm as his thoughts wander to you. 

when did disdain become affection? when did suspicious looks turn into forehead kisses? lucifer couldn’t remember a turning point when you became so important to him– it was a slow march with his eyes closed, blind to the storm raging inside of him until push came to shove and his lips met yours. 

now you spend your nights in his bed. he can hardly lull himself to sleep when you’re not there. funny how things change. 

when the panic finally settles, he creeps back into his bedroom. the rhythmic lull of your breathing reassures him. there is no danger here. no death, no war, no mistakes. only you. 

his movements are hesitant as he crawls back in bed. it’s an attempt not to wake you– a failed one. you immediately reach for him in a state of half-consciousness, tucking yourself into his chest as he settles back in his original spot. your hands are smooth against his broad chest, lazily brushing across the skin before winding around him. 

“i got you, luci.”

four little words. barely audible amongst the shuffling of changing positions, but enough to make his heart pound against his ribcage. four little words conveying the depths of the care you have for the demon in your arms. 

oh, how lucifer morningstar loves you so. 

in the darkness of his bedroom, the flush of his cheeks does not announce its presence– yet it’s there, warm and fuzzy like the feeling in his chest, reminding the avatar of pride that he is nothing more than a man. a simple man. he loves his family and his home, the life he lives. and you. by god, he loves you so much that it makes his breath catch in his throat and his fingers tremble against your back. his arms wind around you to return the affection in any way he can. 

he’ll wait to tell you he loves you another day– soon, surely, so he won’t have to carry this burden for long– when he can muster up all the romance and passion you deserve. would dinner be a more appropriate place, or would that be seen as too gaudy? maybe he’ll find a time at him, when the two of you are alone in each other’s arms again. lucifer will iron out the details with time. 

sleep comes for him rather quickly. somewhere in your arms his mind is finally laid to rest, and he drifts off to sleep with the quiet comfort of knowing tomorrow will be a better day.

the nightmares do not return again tonight.

taglist for this series: @deepseafragments // @darkflowerav // @annoying-and-upset // @katerinaval // @lurkingsnails // @chirikoheina // @all-mights-wife // @notareum // @ollieoven

❝ CAN YOU STOP PUTTING EVERYTHING ON THE TOP SHELVES?! ❞ you finally talk to him after a little argument ( height difference )

with deku, bakugou, rody

IZUKU

he tried to look nonchalant as he responded with a questioning hum. yeah, he was putting stuff on the top shelves. "hmm, what?"

you crossed your arms and glared at him. "you heard me."

he turned to you with the picture of innocence plastered on his face. "i don't know what you mean, i just put things where i put them. it just happens that they're high up."

you raised an accusatory eyebrow.

"for you, anyway." he mumbled, turning back to make his sandwich.

"exactly!" you exclaimed. "for me! you know i can't reach things up there and you do it on purpose!" you found your face was hot as you explained it.

you knew exactly why—you both had gotten into a little fight and you weren't talking to him for a while. this was the first time you had spoken since the argument, and even though you were yelling at him, your voice was music to his ears.

a small smile spread on his face despite his efforts to feign innocence. "on purpose?"

"yes!"

he paused, walking towards you. his disregard for space led to you being crammed against the counter behind you. he leaned over you and asked, "what it is that you need, love?"

your cheeks heated and you cast your gaze to the floor. "the box up there..." you murmured. he stretched to reach it and you flattened your palms against his chest. "izuku! you're squishing me—!"

he chuckled and brought the box down to the counter before kissing your forehead. "i'm glad we're talking again."

BAKUGO

"what was that?" he asked you, a knowing smirk on his face.

you huffed, already on top the counter trying (and failing) to reach the stupid box you needed. "i said stop putting shit on the top shelves. you know i can't reach it."

he shrugged, turning his attention back to his phone. "i dunno what you're talkin' about, princess."

you glared and pointed to the box. "you don't even use it?!"

"aw, don't jump the gun on me now, babe. you know i like to switch things up a lil' bit." he grinned, taking so much joy in your visible frustration. he was just happy you were speaking with him again.

you rolled your eyes, electing to ignore him as you tried your best not to fall off the surface or pull the cabinet down with you.

bakugo eyed you carefully as he threw away the thought of you begging for his help, reluctantly decided your immediate safety was more important. "'kay, that's enough." he walked over, his hands on your hips steadying your wobbly movement. "you'll hurt yourself, y/n. come down."

"i want that stupid box..." you pouted.

he rolled his eyes, his arms now circling around you as he lifted you off the counter. you gasped and curled your legs towards your body, clutching his wrists.

"oh, relax, you know i won't drop ya." he grumbled and set you down next to him. he easily plucked the box from its high perch, handing it to you.

"happy now?" he pinched your cheek. "stubborn brat. could've broken a bone or somethin'."

RODY

"what, having trouble sweetheart?" he snickered.

your face heated and you huffed. "rody... just get it for me, please."

"hmmm..." he pretended he was thinking hard. "i think... no."

you looked at him incredulously. "no? you put it up there!"

"i so did not." he turned up his nose, though pino was smiling and nodding her head.

you narrowed your eyes at him. "you're sabotaging me into breaking your silent treatment."

"whaaaat?" he exaggerated confusion. he held his head and pointed at himself dumbly. "me?"

"you're impossible." you rolled your eyes, moving to climb onto the counter.

"in any case, my plan worked wonderfully," his signature smirk graced his lips as he laughed softly, leaning against the wall to survey your distress.

your fingers just about brushed the side of the box before pino crashed into it, sending it further back and completely out of your reach. you swiveled to glare at the little pink bird. "pino!"

she bashfully twirled in the air before happily fluttering away.

rody's laughter filled your ears and you groaned, resting your head against the shelf. you heard shuffling—when you looked up, rody and his stupid smug smirk was beside you, easily bringing the box down.

"now we both look stupid, yeah?" he pressed a fat kiss on your cheek and softened with you laughed brightly.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3