How the Lads boys would react to a you falling asleep on them for the first time.
This is a lot shorter than what I normally write, I'm trying out cute and romantic short little scenes.
Let me know what you think!
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Xavier:
You and Xavier had settled into a simple routine of eating takeout and watching TV on the couch after a long mission. You were currently in the fifth season of an old crime drama about serial killers.
Xavier had been making a comment on one of the many inaccuracies of the show and how oblivious the FBI agents were when he felt an unexpected weight on his shoulder. He stopped mid-sentence and slowly turned his head towards you.
He moved carefully, reaching behind you to grab the blanket draped over the couch. He pulled it over you both, then gently brushed a few strands of hair from your face.
He leaned back, switching off the TV and the room became nearly silent, only your gentle breaths filling the space. For a moment, he just sat there, staring at the darkened screen, feeling the rise and fall of your chest against his side. Then, he rested his head lightly on top of yours.
Sleep came easier than he expected.
You spent the night like that, tangled in stillness, wrapped in each others' warmth.
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Zayne:
The moment your head landed on Zayne’s shoulder, concern washed over him. The angle of your neck wasn’t ideal, and if you stayed like that, you’d probably wake up stiff and sore.
He shook your shoulder gently, trying to rouse you. "If you’re tired, we should go to bed, love."
You groaned in response. "I’m not sleepy… we don’t need to move." Your words were slightly slurred as your eyes fluttered open for a moment, then closed again.
Within seconds, you were asleep again. He tried one more time to wake you, offering to carry you to bed. "Mmph, I’m comfy here," you protested, curling further into his side, your head resting at a sharp angle on his shoulder.
Zayne sighed, accepting his fate, and adjusted himself so your head rested comfortably. With the difference in your heights, it left him slouched awkwardly to one side, but he stayed that way all night, determined to keep you comfortable.
When you both woke, he stretched, and his back and shoulder cracked loudly.
"Are you okay?" you asked softly. "I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Your back is probably sore from being bent so weirdly."
He shrugged. Knowing you’d slept well was worth a little back pain.
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Rafayel:
Rafayel was sitting against a tree, and you lay in the grass with your head in his lap, watching the clouds. You’d enjoyed a leisurely picnic lunch and were soaking up the warm weather when the inevitable food coma hit.
He asked what you wanted to do next, and when you didn’t respond, he looked down to find you sound asleep on his lap.
"You better not be drooling on my pants, cutie," he teased, running his fingers through your hair. "They’re designer."
He continued stroking your hair absentmindedly with one hand while scrolling through his phone with the other. Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through, and you shivered, curling slightly against him for warmth.
The breeze picked up, and Rafayel carefully shrugged out of his cardigan, each movement careful and calculated so as not to wake you. Once free, he draped it gently over your shoulders.
Unconsciously, you pulled the cardigan tighter around you and murmured something that sounded like thank you.
"Anything for you, cutie," he said, resting his hand on your shoulder with a soft smile.
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Sylus:
You were determined to stay up until Sylus got home. For the first time in a while, you had a few days off in a row, and you wanted to make the most of your time together. Both of you had been so busy with opposite schedules that it had been weeks since you’d last seen each other.
You watched the clock, counting the minutes and hours. Finally, the door opened, and he stepped inside, kicking off his heavy boots and hanging up his jacket before he noticed you. Your eyes were bleary, and a loud yawn escaped your lips as you raised your hand to greet him.
"Kitten, what are you doing up so late?" he asked, watching you rub your eyes.
"I was waiting for you," you mumbled. "Wanted to spend time together."
"Let's get you to bed, sweetie. You can barely keep your eyes open."
"No!" you protested, patting the space on the couch beside you. "'m not tired. Come, tell me about your day." The sleepiness in your voice was undeniable, and Sylus chuckled at your insistence.
He sat down beside you, and you wrapped your arms around one of his, leaning into him. Before he could even start talking, your eyes fluttered shut, and you were out cold.
"Oh, kitten," he murmured, brushing a kiss over the crown of your head. "Let's get you to bed."
With that, he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to bed and holding you close until the sun rose.
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Caleb:
Growing up together, you and Caleb had fallen asleep together countless times. For years if you had a nightmare, you crawled into his bed, making him check under the bed and the closets before going back to sleep.
Now, years later, you leaned against his shoulder on a flight, eyes fluttering shut. Caleb froze, panic rising. You were already halfway asleep, and any movement might wake you. He wanted to adjust you, make you more comfortable, but he couldn't risk disturbing you.
In your sleep you murmured something he could quite make out and leaned in closer to him. Caleb’s arm hovered awkwardly, fingers stiff against the armrest. When turbulence hit, he held himself still and prayed you would stay asleep.
Your head felt heavy against his shoulder, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t risk disturbing your peaceful slumber.
Minutes passed. Caleb’s shoulder ached, his legs went numb, but he stayed perfectly still, unmoving like a statue. You were completely relaxed, breathing slow and even, trusting him fully and he took his job as your pillow seriously.
By the time the captain announced the plane's descent, Caleb’s body was screaming, but he didn’t care. One hour, two hours, it didn’t matter. You were asleep, and that was all that mattered.
(Author’s Note: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!❤️Just a soft, sleepy comfort fic 🖤 No smut, just tired reader + accidental cuddling. This is tropey and meant to be cozy. Please be kind!)
Summary:
Sleep-deprived reader can’t sleep without hugging something. Unfortunately, she’s at work. Fortunately, Ghost exists.
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You had a problem.
You couldn’t sleep unless you were hugging something.
At home, it was always your pillow—big, soft, perfect.
Unfortunately… you were at work.
The safehouse was quiet in that late-night lull. Team 141 were scattered around the room—Price at the table with a mug of coffee, Gaz scrolling on his phone, Soap half-asleep in a chair, and Simon leaning against the wall, arms crossed, mask on, completely still.
You shuffled out of the side room, hair messy, eyes half-closed.
Laswell glanced up.
“You alright?”
You nodded slowly. “…Can’t sleep.”
Soap smirked. “Try closing your eyes.”
You ignored him.
Instead, you scanned the room like a zombie on a mission.
No couch pillow.
No spare blanket.
Your gaze landed on Simon.
Tall.
Broad.
Solid.
Your tired brain made a decision without consulting you.
You walked straight up to him.
Simon stiffened slightly when you stopped in front of him.
You squinted at him for a second, then murmured softly,
“…You’ll do.”
Before anyone could react, you wrapped your arms around his middle, pressed your cheek against his chest, and curled in, using him exactly like a body-sized pillow.
You sighed.
Content.
And promptly fell asleep.
The room froze.
Soap’s jaw dropped.
Gaz’s eyes went wide.
Price slowly set his mug down.
Laswell blinked. “…Did she just—”
Simon didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t breathe for a long five seconds.
Then—very carefully—he adjusted his stance so you wouldn’t slide, one gloved hand hovering before resting lightly against your back.
“…She asleep?” Soap whispered.
Gaz nodded. “Out cold.”
Price cleared his throat. “Simon?”
“…Not moving,” Simon replied quietly. “She’s comfortable.”
You shifted, hugging him tighter, mumbling something incoherent about pillows.
Soap covered his mouth to keep from laughing.
Laswell sighed. “I’m not even surprised anymore.”
Simon stared straight ahead, heart doing something inconvenient.
“…She usually hug a pillow?” he asked quietly.
Laswell nodded. “Apparently today, you’re the pillow.”
Simon swallowed.
“…Alright then.”
And he stayed right there until you woke up.
Because moving you would’ve been cruel.
And… he didn’t really want to.
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a sleepy reader? the reader who always sleeps at every opportunity and has very heavy eyebags, careless and selfless. yandere batfam will go wild over that! ^^
Reader: sprawled across a couch, eyes barely open
Tim: “You should be working, not sleeping. We have a lot to do.”
Reader: snickers “Yeah, I’ll just... let you do all the work, Tim. I’m sure you’ve got everything under control, right?”
Jason: scowls “How are you so chill about everything?”
Reader: “Because stress is so overrated, and frankly, I’m already exhausted just looking at you guys.”
Reader: leans back in a chair, eyes drooping
Damian: “You should sleep in a bed, not on a chair. It’s inefficient.”
Reader: smirks, voice dripping with sarcasm “Oh, thanks, Damian. I’ll just wait for you to buy me a luxury mattress next. Maybe throw in a heated blanket while you’re at it.”
Damian: “I’m being serious!”
Reader: “Yeah, and I’m really feeling your concern. It's almost overwhelming.”
Reader: yawns, nearly falling asleep at the Batcomputer
Steph: “You can’t be serious. You’re really gonna nap right now?”
Reader: mumbling “Oh, I am so serious. I mean, what else is there to do when you're surrounded by a bunch of overachievers who never stop? I’ll just... take a quick nap, no big deal.”
Jason: “You’re gonna fall asleep and leave us hanging?”
Reader: “Yeah, that’s the plan. You guys will manage. You always do. I’m sure you’ll find a way to save Gotham without me for once.”
Reader: laying down on the floor mid-mission
Alfred: raising an eyebrow “Miss [Reader’s Name], surely this is not the time for a nap.”
Reader: snorts “Well, it’s either this or pass out from exhaustion. I figured I’d make it dramatic, just for you.”
Bruce: glancing at her, his voice tense “You really need to take better care of yourself.”
Reader: grinning lazily “Yeah, ‘cause you guys have been such role models when it comes to self-care. Totally learned all my habits from you.”
Reader: snuggled up in the corner, eyes barely open
Damian: “If you’re going to sleep, at least do it in a proper bed.”
Reader: smiling lazily “Why, Damian? So I can wake up in a panic when you all try to drag me into another mission? Nah, I’ll just nap here, where it’s safer.”
Dick: frowning, looking at her with concern “You really don’t take anything seriously, do you?”
Reader: with a sly grin “Oh, I take everything seriously... just not you guys.”
Hiii I’d like something comfy and cozy: Reader holed up in their room, working and falling asleep at their desk, and then being found and carried to bed by uhhhhh maybe Jing Yuan, Welt, Feixiao and/or Phainon? Any one of them, or multiple if you want. Can be platonic or romantic, I won’t mind! Thanks~ 💖
Safe in Gentle Arms
Tags: Jing Yuan x Reader, Feixiao x Reader, Welt x Reader, Phainon x Reader, Fluff, Comfort & Care, Soft Moments, Carrying to Bed, Can be read as Romantically or Platonically, Sleepy/Exhausted Reader, Protective, Caring.
Warnings: Mild Mentions of Overworking (Reader is exhausted from working too much), Physical Contact (Being carried, hair ruffling, etc.), Mild Possessiveness in Phainon’s Fic (Protectiveness bordering on desperation), Some Characters Tease the Reader.
Jing Yuan was no stranger to naps—he had mastered the art of taking them at the perfect moments. But seeing you passed out at your desk, head resting on an open scroll, made him sigh. The flickering lanterns cast a warm glow over the piles of documents you had been working on, and the ink-stained fingertips resting near your cheek told him just how much effort you had put in.
He approached quietly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "You push yourself too hard," he murmured, voice laced with fondness.
Carefully, he scooped you up, your weight settling easily against his chest. Even in sleep, you curled slightly against him, seeking warmth. He chuckled under his breath as he carried you through the dimly lit halls, the soft rustle of his cape the only sound accompanying his footsteps.
As he laid you on the bed and pulled a blanket over you, he allowed himself a rare moment of indulgence—his fingers grazing over your forehead as he brushed your hair back. "You should learn from me," he mused. "A well-timed nap does wonders."
You stirred slightly but didn't wake. Satisfied, he leaned against the nearby chair, arms crossed as he settled in. Someone had to make sure you stayed resting, after all.
Welt sighed as he stepped into your quarters aboard the Astral Express. The soft hum of the train filled the air, but what caught his attention was the stack of half-finished sketches, notes, and reports scattered around your desk.
And there you were—fast asleep in the middle of it all, your cheek resting against a sketchbook, your glasses (if you wear them) slipping down your nose. He took a moment to observe you, his usual stern expression softening.
"You really don’t know when to stop," he muttered, shaking his head.
With practiced care, he lifted you into his arms, making sure not to wake you. You shifted slightly, letting out a sleepy sigh as you tucked yourself against his shoulder. Welt adjusted his grip and made his way toward your bed, his own exhaustion momentarily forgotten.
Once you were tucked in, he placed your fallen glasses on the nightstand and glanced at your desk. With a resigned sigh, he began stacking your papers neatly, making sure nothing would be lost in the morning.
Before he left, he murmured, "Next time, let someone remind you to rest, alright?"
And though you couldn’t respond, he hoped you’d take the advice to heart.
Feixiao prided herself on discipline, but even she could appreciate a bit of indulgence—especially when it came to you. Finding you slumped over your desk, completely passed out amidst a sea of reports, she let out an exasperated sigh.
“Really? Again?” she muttered, but there was no true annoyance in her voice, only concern.
She bent down and easily scooped you up, her strength making it effortless. Your head lolled against her shoulder, and she could feel your warm breath against her collarbone. A rare, soft smile tugged at her lips.
“You’re lucky I like you,” she whispered, carrying you to your bed with a gentleness that few got to see from her.
After settling you in, she tugged the blankets up to your chin and, without thinking, reached out to ruffle your hair. You stirred slightly but didn’t wake, instead mumbling something incoherent. Feixiao snorted.
"Fine, fine, I won’t tease you too much about this tomorrow," she said, leaning back against the wall.
But she didn't leave just yet. Not until she was sure you'd stay asleep.
Phainon found you in the same state he often found himself in—hunched over, exhaustion winning over determination. The flickering candle beside you barely illuminated the half-written notes under your hand, your breathing slow and steady.
He knelt beside your chair, carefully observing your peaceful expression. "You’re too dedicated for your own good," he murmured, though admiration tinged his voice.
Without hesitation, he lifted you into his arms, his grip steady yet gentle. Even asleep, you instinctively curled into his warmth, trusting him completely. The realization made his chest tighten in an unfamiliar way.
As he laid you down, he lingered for a moment, brushing his knuckles lightly against your temple. "You fight hard, but even warriors need rest," he whispered.
Before leaving, he adjusted the blanket around you and blew out the candle, ensuring that, for tonight, at least, you’d rest properly.
imagine Bucky coming home in the middle of the day after a long mission just wanting to be with his doll. When he gets to the bedroom he sees readers head emerging from a blanket burrito on their bed, hair wild, phone in hand, pillow creases on her face and her looking at him from her blanket prison like “wanna snuggle?”
-🐍
this was so sweet
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He doesn’t mean to come home early.
In fact, he’s supposed to be in D.C. until tomorrow night, debriefing, signing reports, pretending to be fine when he isn’t. But he couldn’t do it—not after weeks of nothing but sterile walls and stale air, no warmth, no softness, no you. So he caught an earlier flight, took the first cab that would bring him back to Brooklyn, and now he’s standing in the doorway of your shared apartment with his heart already starting to settle just from breathing the air that smells like you.
It’s faint—your shampoo, your lotion, a trace of vanilla from the candle you always forget to blow out. The kind of scent that hits him low in the ribs and makes his chest ache in that familiar, quiet way. Home.
He drops his bag by the door, keys in the bowl, jacket over the back of the couch. The apartment is warm but quiet, the TV off, afternoon sunlight spilling through the blinds in slanted stripes. He pads down the hall, trying not to make noise. He wants to see you before you know he’s here. Wants that first real breath of peace that only ever comes when he’s looking at you.
When he reaches the bedroom, the sight hits him like a punch to the sternum.
You’re a lump.
A very specific, very beloved lump—completely swallowed by your blanket cocoon. Only a wild tuft of hair and the top half of your face peek out, eyes squinting down at your phone, lashes fluttering in slow blinks. You look rumpled and warm and soft and so endearingly human that Bucky’s knees actually go weak.
He leans on the doorframe for a moment, just looking.
You don’t see him yet, too focused on whatever’s on your screen. He can tell you’ve been like this for a while—the pillow creases pressed into your cheek, the lazy half-smile that means you’re comfortable and safe. His jaw loosens, and all the tension he’s been holding since the mission—every tight muscle, every locked breath—starts to dissolve.
You feel the shift before you see him; that awareness that creeps up your spine when someone you love walks into the room. You peek up over the top of your blanket burrito, eyes bleary, hair sticking in every direction.
“Bucky?”
Your voice is thick with sleep and disbelief, and it makes him grin—wide, boyish, unguarded. “Hey, doll.”
You blink, still half-wrapped in your cocoon. “You’re home.”
He nods, stepping closer, metal hand braced on the doorframe like he’s holding himself up. “Couldn’t wait another day.”
You hum, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips, and tilt your head a little. “Wanna snuggle?”
It’s the way you say it—like it’s the most natural question in the world, like you’re offering him salvation instead of a nap—that undoes him completely.
Bucky laughs under his breath, that deep, rough sound that vibrates low in his chest. “Sweetheart, I’ve been thinking about that since I got on the damn plane.”
You hold one corner of the blanket open in invitation, eyes soft and drowsy. He’s moving before he realizes it, boots kicked off, shirt discarded somewhere on the way to the bed. He crawls in behind you, and the moment his body molds to yours, the rest of the world ceases to matter.
You’re warm. That’s the first thing he notices. The second is how good you smell, like laundry soap and sunshine, like home. He wraps an arm around you and hauls you back against his chest, sighing into your hair.
“God, I missed you,” he murmurs.
You giggle softly, the sound muffled against the blanket. “You just saw me three weeks ago.”
“Yeah,” he says, voice gravelly with exhaustion. “Three weeks too long.”
His flesh hand slides under your hoodie to rest on the soft skin of your stomach, fingers tracing lazy circles while his metal one stays wrapped protectively around your hip. You shift, pressing back into him, tangling your legs with his. He hums again, eyes fluttering shut as the rhythm of your breathing lulls him.
You tilt your head enough to look at him, smiling when you see the deep lines of fatigue smoothing from his face. “Rough mission?”
He doesn’t open his eyes, just tightens his hold on you. “Yeah. Lots of noise. Too many people. Too many orders.”
“Mm,” you murmur, threading your fingers through his hair. “You’re safe now.”
That’s all it takes. His breath catches, a tiny hitch in the quiet. Safe. He hasn’t let himself believe it until you said it.
He noses at your neck, inhaling deeply, and presses a kiss to the spot just below your ear. “You don’t know how good that sounds, doll.”
“Guess you’ll just have to stay here and listen to me say it until you believe it.”
He chuckles, low and hoarse. “Careful. I might never leave.”
“That’s kind of the point,” you tease, tugging the blanket higher to wrap both of you tighter.
Bucky buries his face against your shoulder, breath ghosting over your skin. His body relaxes inch by inch until he’s nothing but warmth and quiet contentment pressed against you. His thumb strokes slow, sleepy patterns on your hipbone, every touch a silent thank you.
After a while, he mumbles, “What were you doin’ before I came in?”
You shrug, half-asleep again. “Scrolling. Thinking about getting up. Didn’t make it that far.”
He smiles against your skin. “You look perfect.”
You snort. “I look like I fought the pillow and lost.”
“Still perfect,” he insists, nudging your jaw with his nose. “Missed this. Missed you like hell.”
You shift slightly to face him, eyes soft. His hair is a little longer than when he left, the circles under his eyes darker, but he’s here. Real. Safe. You run your hand down his cheek, thumb brushing his stubble.
“Welcome home, Buck.”
The words break something open inside him. He pulls you closer until your foreheads touch, his breath trembling just a little. “Never gets old hearing you say that.”
You smile, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. “Then don’t make me wait so long next time.”
He grins faintly, eyes still heavy. “You makin’ me promises, doll?”
“Maybe,” you murmur. “Depends how long you stay this time.”
“’Til you kick me out.”
You pretend to think about it, then sigh dramatically. “Guess you’re stuck here forever then.”
“Good,” he whispers, and seals the deal with a soft kiss.
It’s slow and lazy, just lips and breath, a silent promise that doesn’t need words. He lingers until you melt against him completely, then pulls back just enough to rest his head beneath your chin. The steady beat of your heart under his ear is the last thing he hears before sleep finally drags him under.
You feel him start to drift—the slow exhale, the way his fingers go still against your waist. You keep your hand in his hair, tracing the short strands gently, and whisper, “Sleep, baby. I’ve got you.”
He mumbles something that sounds like love you too, already half gone.
The room falls quiet except for the hum of the city outside and the soft rhythm of two hearts beating in time. The sunlight shifts, crawling higher across the sheets, catching the glint of metal where his arm wraps tight around you.
And for a little while—just a perfect, stolen afternoon—there’s nothing else in the world but this: a soldier finding his peace in the warmth of a blanket burrito and the woman who makes every homecoming worth it.
Fall fluff, some hurt/comfort, some menstrual period comfort cause its happening to me now, brief chronic neuropathy, established relationship, self indulgence time yall.
DON'T REPOST, PLAGARIZE, STEAL, COPY, EDIT, TRANSLATE AND OR USE FOR AI. Rather reblog comment like and follow pls n thnx.
Fall has come to Seoul.
Spooky movies played on the HD TV in the background.
The spray scent of maple bourbon clings to the air.
Obsidian tinsel garland littered with pumpkins and ghosts hang around the archways and doorframes.
Aesthetic purple cobwebs decorate the walls and the ceiling corners to elevate the spooky vibes.
Plus various colorful lights.
Nearly empty mugs of your cozy drinks stay forgotten on the side table.
You were so comfy laying on the couch with him in the living room.
Too sluggish, attached to the hip with him, unable to focus on the moving pictures.
You felt a fever blooming on your face.
His giant scarred hand pressed against your forehead.
His skin was so cool, running slowly, sensually, all over your face, soothing the warmth there.
His concern grew when you reached for his marked hand, letting it slip under your shirt and rest on your abdomen.
"How are your cramps?" His whispered words hit your forehead as his thumb rubs slow circles in your skin; his calloused palm and fingerpads making you melt from how they felt against your bare flesh.
"Dull pain." Your hand curls into his own shirt, nuzzling against his slowly breathing chest while his other hand curled in your hair to rub that pulsing spot on your cranium.
"Too warm?" His bare feet brushed yours as his cool shadows soothed your calves.
"Kinda yeah." Your half-lidded e/c eyes glazed with fatigue peek up at his grey eyes matching how yours appeared. "You?"
"More or less." His hand weaved through your messy strands, brushing it slowly, breathing in your faint scent.
That unlucky mosquito or two that somehow snuck into your shared domicile got snatched mid-air from Ruler's Hand and squashed to oblivion.
Your wandering hands cup his face, making him grin cheekily in your hold. "We both know you want to."
Letting you mess with his smooth cheeks. Pinching them. Tugging on them. He's quite a soft Lord of Death.
He pouts playfully as you rub and knead his now flushed face that held nothing but endearment for you.
His narrowed eyes crinkled, hearing your giggles slip out as his sneaky hand tickled your sides in teasing drawn-out digs.
"There's my laughing beauty." The lilt in his voice filled your ear as his own face nuzzled yours to drop pecks to your closed eyelids as they squeezed from mirth at his ticklish touch.
Crawling up along his torso to kiss those cheeks. To gingerly bite and pull at them like they're mochi.
"So soft. So warm." He returned the favor. Gently treating your cheeks in the same fashion, humming into your plushness.
You spent quite a while cuddling, him being your very own teddy bear, not letting you go free unless you needed to change your pad. Once or twice. As well as satiating your cravings with filling treats.
The blanket lazily draped over his and yours laps nearly falls to the floor when he starts getting off the couch with you cradled securely in his arms.
"You'll feel more comfortable in bed." His purr makes your gut flutter, seeking him and his comforting presence.
"M'kay." You mumble out as you cling to him while he carries you to your shared bedroom. His shadows turned off the TV, then the decorative lights, all before tending to cleaning up your mugs in his stead.
Carefully setting you down on the plush bed, he adjusts the AC to a cool enough setting and prepares a glass of water to help you down some Ibuprofen with.
"My hero." You kiss him as thanks.
"All yours, love." He smirked against your lips. He plugged in your heating pad and turned it on to set it safely under your shirt.
You hum as he rubs and massages your neuropathy cream into your pulsing feet, his shadows aiding in adding some soothing to your flared up areas.
That very same blanket from before he draped over you both, leaving your now glossy feet uncovered, the blowing AC already aiding your cream in calming your pulsing limbs.
Doting kisses on your cheek, he spooned you from behind, keeping a hand on the slight bump that is the pad under your tee.
His unique scent made you inhale deeply. His low rough murmurs in your ear made you shiver. His curvy lips dote kisses in the crook of your neck.
"Jinwoo." You hum as you roll in his grasp, keeping the pad glued right above your valley, kissing under his chin and along his jaw, humming as his arm drapes over you.
"Y/n." That's the last word you're able to hear as you finally conk out, letting Jinwoo be lulled by your steady breathing, nuzzling his face in your hair, gently squeezing you.
Cuddle time, whether awake or asleep, especially during these vulnerable times, is a must.
I’m on a roadtrip have some powerthrouple headcanons
- Eddie is driving, Eddie is driving in any scenario involving a car with him in it. Not because he doesn’t trust you, you actually prefer if he drives on longer stretches of time on the road because you sleep or read in the back of the car
- Eddie will not let Volt behind the wheel in any circumstance other than if they are driving all night, this works for Volt perfectly. He can se himself up with a tablet and respond to email(if it’s a work trip,)
-Volt is going 30 over if he is behind the wheel at any given time
Eddie only goes 10 over, and has slightly more patience for bad traffic and shit drivers
- You fluctuate between speeding enough and speeding too much, Eddies is white knuckling the oh shit handle when you are driving
- You and Volt have the perfect passenger princess setup
- You both like to pretend that you’ll change it up halfway through, so that you both get to spend time up front with Eddie. But neither of you really mention it and wind up not really switching things up anyway
- the one time he had mentioned it to you you shrugged and sprawled back out in the backseat, where you had already made a very nice nest and told him “ m’ comfy you can stay up there”
- If you are sitting up you’re sitting in the middle so you can lean over the center console and yap away
- Volt will pass around whoever’s phone is connected, if it’s your phone he will grab it off your lap or wherever it is and queue up music
- Eddie does the hand thing to get snacks from you
- Once you start there is no stopping for at minimum 3-4 hours, you get gas and snacks before hitting the road and then you aren’t stopping until you need gas again
-You like the backseat because Eddie and Volt keep each other entertained while you can lie in the back and sleep, read, or play games, conserving what little social energy you have
-Volt books every hotel for the three of you
-Usually you’re the one who checks in while Eddie finds parking, sometimes all three of you go, sometimes just you and Volt but regardless you’re the one doing the check in portion
-Eddie checks you guys out before you leave
-There’s definitely an itinerary to vaguely outline what you’re doing on the trip but it’s more to help guide an give a clear picture for around when things need to happen
-You tried to go with the flow once an it just wound up overwhelming for all involved
-you end up turning the 2 beds into one mega bed
- You and Volt giggle over the cuck chair
- which definitely serves its purpose later but that’s a story for another day
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Yeah that’s all I got, I was set up in the car with my iPad and I was typing away😈
