as1yasss

matt murdock is the best at comforting you when you’re upset.

he hears your heartbeat before you walk into the room, standing up to greet you when you walk through the door.

you walk over to him with tears in your eyes and he instantly pulls you close, one hand wrapping around your waist and the other holding your head against his chest.

he pets your head softly, not saying anything until you speak first.

when you finally tell him what’s wrong, a hand goes to stroke your cheek and tilt your head up so you can see him.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart," he says softly.

he kisses your forehead repeatedly, moving all over your face and he doesn't stop until he hears your giggles.

"you're getting your spit all over me," you laugh.

bf!wally west is so clingy that he sits on the floor while you take a shower fluff

“...and you’ll never guess what he said next—”

for the last couple of minutes, your boyfriend had been sitting on the cold tile floor, his back resting against the white wall as he yapped and yapped your ear off. you had barely had the time to step into your apartment that wally had rushed to your side, holding you into his arms and peppering a lot of sweet kisses all over your face. then, he had followed you into the bathroom, telling you stuff that had happened to him during the day—which seemed to never end considering that he had been talking for more than thirty minutes straight—as you took off your clothes and turned on the water.

so there you were, standing under the shower head, relishing in the feeling on the cold water sliding down your skin and hair, at humming from time to time at your boyfriend's excited chatting. the redhead turned his face towards you every few seconds, wanting to see your reaction to every little thing that he was saying.

turning off the water, you grabbed a towel and wrapped it around your body, securing it snuggly on the side. as soon as you stepped out of the shower, wally’s hands found their place around your waist, pressing his clothed torso against your back, not caring at all for the droplets of water that fell from your hair. he just held you close to him, swaying a bit from side to side to make you laugh and kissing the damp skin of the back of your shoulder.

so yeah, he might be a clingy guy but he’s your clingy guy.

⤷ dick grayson

• {content} dick only respond to you calling him baby

The apartment was quiet for a Sunday afternoon, save for the rhythmic humming of the washing machine and the faint scent of fresh linen.

You were currently knee-deep in folding the endless mountain of laundry on the bed. You grabbed the next item from the basket, held it up, and instantly stopped, staring at it in absolute disbelief.

It was a pair of Dick’s favorite boxers—or at least, what used to be boxers. At this point, the fabric was so worn down it was almost translucent, and there were two distinct, gaping holes near the seam. They were hanging on by a single thread and sheer willpower.

"Dick, are you serious?" you called out toward the living room, where your boyfriend was currently stretched across the rug doing his afternoon mobility routine. "Dick, come look at these!"

No answer. Not even a rustle of his sweatpants.

"Dick?" you said, a little louder, peeking your head around the bedroom door.

He was flowing smoothly from a deep hamstring stretch into a cobra pose, looking entirely serene and completely oblivious to your existence.

You blinked. You knew for a fact he wasn't deaf—the man had peak-human Bat-family hearing and could spot a footstep on a roof three blocks away. You opened your mouth to yell his name again, but then the realization hit you.

You had called him 'Dick.'

In the three years you’d been together, you almost never called him by his actual name. He was "babe," "baby," "honey," or, on particularly chaotic mornings, "sweetheart." Calling him Dick was practically a foreign language to his subconscious.

A mischievous grin spread across your face. You leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms.

"Richard?"

Silence. He shifted into a shoulder bridge.

"Grayson?"

He sighed softly, deepening the stretch, completely locked into his own world.

"Officer Grayson?"

Nothing.

You took a slow breath, held up the shredded boxers like evidence in a court trial, and dropped your voice to its usual fond, affectionate tone.

"Hey, baby?"

Dick’s head snapped up instantly. His bright blue eyes locked onto yours, a warm, easy smile instantly spreading across his face.

"Yeah, sweetcheeks? What's up?" he asked, popping off the floor with effortless agility and strolling toward the bedroom. He leaned into your space, instantly tilting his chin down for a kiss.

You held up the holy pair of boxers right between your faces like a shield, staring at him with an amused, disbelieving look. "Are you serious right now?"

Dick paused mid-lean, blinking at the ruined fabric, then up at you like a confused puppy. "What?"

"First of all, these are going in the trash. Second of all, I just called your name four times."

"No, you didn't," he said smoothly, sliding his arms around your waist anyway. "I would've heard you."

"I said Dick."

He flinched subtly, screwing up his nose as if the word tasted weird. "See? Hearing it now, it doesn't even sound like a real word. Who is he? Sounds like a stranger. I don't know him."

"It is literally your legal name!" You laughed, reaching up to tap his cheek.

Dick gently caught your wrist, tugging you a little closer until your chest was resting against his.

"My name," he corrected softly, his voice dropping into that low, warm register he saved just for you, "is baby. Or babe. I also accept 'hey handsome' if you're feeling fancy."

"You're ridiculous," you murmured, though you couldn't stop the smile tugging at your lips.

"I'm a man conditioned by love," he declared heroically, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. "If you start calling me Dick, I'm going to assume I'm in trouble, or that Bruce is standing right behind me. Neither of those options are good for my heart."

"So if I need to save you from a falling building, I just have to yell 'Look out, babe!'?"

"Precisely," Dick grinned, kissing your cheek before eyeing the ruined boxers in your hand. "And for the record, those are vintage. They're aerated. It's tactical."

"They're going in the trash, baby."

⋮ death note • l lawliet.

content included: js a bunch of tooth rotting sweet fluff... + slight kissing + pet names

:: jjk college au universe

you always knew that yuji was pretty jacked.

i mean, this kid ate like seven meals a day and threw hands at curses like air.

but something was different that afternoon. you two were standing in your apartment kitchen making ramen to share together.

you were in charge of the noodles, and he was in charge of the toppings. but, obviously, since it's yuji, he got distracted very easily. eventually, he ended up behind you, with his heavy arms draped around your shoulders and at your neck.

he placed a kiss on the spot right under your ear, "it smells good angel."

"of course it does dumbass it's ramen, go work on the toppings you slacker" you rant, as you try to slither out of his grasp.

nagi seishiro is absolutely insufferable when he’s sick.

he whines softly beside you, limbs tangled and lost in yours, and at this point, you don’t know where he ends where and you begin.

“sei?” you call out, rubbing your eyes open.

nagi hums in response, nuzzling further into you.

“you’re hot, baby. are you…” you turn and face him in bed, holding up the back of your hand against his neck, “you feeling okay?”

nagi shakes his head beside you, and you sit up before brushing your hair aside. you look at him, his long arms wrapped around your legs before you sigh and ruffle his hair.

“headache…” he mutters against the pillows, and he looks so uncharacteristically soft for a 6’-something guy that you can’t help your heart from aching just a little.

“i’ll get a thermometer and some pills, okay?” you say, gently pushing off his arm.

“stay.”

nagi’s arm locks you down, his months work of training finally paying off as his muscles pop out.

“baby—“

“just go back to sleep…” he grumbles, and you can practically hear his pout from his tone alone, “don’twantyoutogo…”

“but sei, you said it yourself. you don’t feel so good,”

“feel much better with you around… not gone…”

“you’d feel better with meds,” you deadpan.

“i’d feel better asleep,” he answers, and thank God he’s sick right now or you would’ve smacked him for talking back.

you sigh, knowing this conversation isn’t going anywhere.

and nagi must’ve thought the same by the way he says, “no fighting, ‘s not good for the baby…”

“what baby? i’m not pregnant.”

“‘s me, mommy. i’m the baby.”

the frat parties at your university were insane. so much to the point, a lot of people considered it a party school, though, you always argued that they have excellent academic programs as well. those were overlooked the second the info for the next function was posted. your boyfriend and his friends were hosting one and he wanted you there with him. you complied, only if there was something in it for you. he promised he’d make it up to you somehow, so here you were.

the music blared through the mansion, it was so loud you could feel each vibration thumping in your head. the air was heavy with the strong smell of alcohol and sweat. people were dancing, chatting, some even jumping into the pool. your boyfriend was no where to be found. you walked past a cluster of people in the kitchen playing beer pong. he wasn’t there. you searched upstairs, nothing. where did he go? did he abandon his own party?

you finally found him in a corner by the side door, leaning against the wall as he stared out the window. you snuck up behind him and wrapped your arms around him. he jumped and immediately gaping at you in horror.

“woahhhh there. please watch it. please,” he slurred. you blinked at him, confused.

“what do you mean?”

he didn’t even bother sparing you another glance. “i have a girlfriend. so respectfully, keep your hands to yourself.”

you snorted and stared at him in disbelief. was this some sort of prank?

“where is this girlfriend of yours?” you asked sarcastically.

“i dunno, she went off somewhere. i’ve been looking for her actually, miss her.” he frowned, eyebrows knitting together in disappointment. you were amazed at his commitment to this bit. surely he was just poking fun at you, right?

“i miss smelling her hair. she doesn’t know it, but her smell always smells really, really nice.” he rubbed his eye and yawned. “fuck it, i could sniff her nice smell alll day.”

“ah yes, you could sniff her nice smell and smell it forever.” you repeated in disbelief . you’ve never actually seen sukuna drunk before. he was quite the prankster it seemed like.

he squinted at you before grunting. “is something funny? are you making fun of my girlfriend?” he asked pointedly. you giggled before you realized he was dead serious. this wasn’t some prank he was playing, he genuinely thought he was talking to some stranger. who was making fun of his girlfriend. and her smell. which was apparently nice.

“no no, of course not. in fact, tell me more about her.” you replied, keeping your voice light. this was a chance to see how he really viewed you. who knew, maybe he liked you outside or your nice smell.

“she’s so cute. you know, she’s my tutor too. funny how that worked out. i was supposed to be bringing my grades up, but i walked out with a wholeee new distraction.” he sighed happily. “wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“oh?”

he nodded, eyes looking off on the distance dreamily. “she’s a little shy, yeah, but when she gets comfortable with you… damn it’s the best. i’d sell my left kidney to see her right now.”

“sell…your left kidney?” …what? how did he jump to selling kidneys?

“right is fine too. i’m not very picky.” he shrugged.

“that’s not what i—nevermind.” you shook your head. it was pointless to reason with him now. he was still staring off like a little lover boy deep in thought, not realizing the girl he was yearning for was right in front of him.

“no one could everrr come close to her,” he declared, words slurring even more now. “or her nice smell.”

“bummer.” you deadpanned. “want me to help you find her?”

his eyes lit up and he turned his head to look at you, really look at you for the first time in the conversation. he froze as it all dawned on him.

“hello ‘kuna. guess you found me?” blush crept up on his ears as he averted his gaze.

“shut up,” he muttered. “i didn’t know.” it was like the embarrassment alone sobered him up.

“i know. you were too busy staring off in the distance and yapping about how amazing i am.” you giggled as the blush rose to his cheeks and he sighed.

“i’m never gonna hear the end of this, will i?”

“nope! take whatever you were planning before, and double it. no—” you smile grew even wider. “triple it.”

he sighed and wrapped his arm around you and buried his nose in your hair. “yes ma’am.”

you grinned at him. “that’s more like it.” he grunted in response and you froze. “sukuna, are you sniffing me right now?”

“…yeah?”

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JEAN KIERSTEIN—

jean is a man who was raised primarily by his mother. he adored his mom and saw her struggling on her own for majority of his life. he never wants his partner to feel like that.