I shall ask for another of your beautiful Baki pics/head cannons pretty please with a cherry on top š„¹š
How they react when you fall asleep on them
Contains, fluff, soft core
Summary, Itās not planned. It just happens. And for men who are always aware, always ready, always in control, being trusted like this changes everything.
You donāt realize when it happens.
One moment youāre talking about something light, something easy and the next your words trail off, your head dipping slightly as sleep quietly pulls you under.
Baki notices immediately.
At first, he doesnāt move. His eyes flick down to where your head now rests against his shoulder, your weight leaning into him in a way thatāsā¦.new.
ā.ā¦Hey,ā he murmurs softly, not to wake you, but to test it.
Your breathing evens out, slow and steady and something in his expression shifts.
Carefully, almost experimentally, he adjusts his position. Just a little. Enough so your head rests more comfortably, his shoulder angled so you donāt slip.
Baki goes still after that.
For someone who lives in constant motion, training, fighting, improving, the quiet is unfamiliar. But not unwelcome.
His gaze drifts downward again, studying the relaxed look on your face.
The realization is simple. Clear.
And it settles somewhere deep in his chest.
If someone approaches, Baki notices long before they get close. His eyes lift, sharp for just a second, enough to make it clear that now is not the time.
Either way, they donāt interrupt.
Because for once, Baki isnāt thinking about strength or winning or the next fight.
Heās thinking about how naturally you leaned into him.
And how he doesnāt mind holding that weight at all.
Katsumi is mid-sentence when it happens.
He notices your silence first.
For a split second, Katsumi completely loses his train of thought. His posture stiffens, his expression freezing as his brain tries to process what just happened.
Slowly, very slowly, he glances down.
Youāre completely relaxed, your head resting against him like itās the most natural thing in the world.
Outwardly, he regains composure quickly. His posture straightens, his expression smoothing into calm neutrality.
Carefully, he shifts, just enough to make sure youāre comfortable. His movements are controlled, precise, but thereās a faint hesitation there, like heās afraid of doing it wrong.
Once youāre settled, he goes completely still.
If anyone approaches, Katsumi doesnāt hesitate this time. His gaze sharpens, posture firm, presence unmistakable.
He wonāt say it out loud.
And as time passes, his initial fluster fades into something quieter.
Because out of all the people you could have leaned on, you chose him.
Retsu notices the moment your posture changes.
The slight dip of your head. The pause in your speech. The way your body begins to relax in a way that signals sleep before it fully takes you.
Instead, he watches quietly as you drift off, your weight leaning gently against him.
When your head settles, he moves.
Not abruptly. Not noticeably.
His hand shifts to support you more comfortably, adjusting your position with precise, practiced care. He angles his body so your neck isnāt strained, ensuring your breathing remains steady and unimpeded.
Every movement is intentional.
Once youāre settled, Retsu stills completely.
His breathing evens out to match yours, subtle and calm. His gaze softens, resting on you with quiet focus.
Thereās something deeply personal about this moment.
Trust, given without hesitation.
If someone approaches, Retsu doesnāt raise his voice. He doesnāt need to.
A single glance, calm, composed, unwavering, is enough to communicate everything: Do not disturb.
Because even without words, itās clear.
And Retsu intends to preserve it.
Hanayama notices immediately.
The moment your weight shifts against him, the moment your head dips and settles, heās aware.
But unlike others, he doesnāt react right away.
Whatever movement he was making ceases entirely. His already steady presence becomes completely immovable, like a wall that nothing can shake.
You rest against him easily, your breathing evening out as sleep takes over.
Hanayama glances down once.
Then he looks forward again.
He doesnāt adjust much. Doesnāt fidget. Doesnāt speak.
He simply remains there, solid and unwavering, allowing you to lean against him without interruption.
If someone approaches, they donāt get far.
And quietly decide itās not worth it.
Because thereās something about the way Hanayama sits, calm, silent, completely still, that makes it clear: This moment is not to be disturbed.
And Hanayama doesnāt move.
Jack feels it before he fully registers whatās happening.
The slight shift of your weight. The way your head tips forward, then sideways, until it rests against him.
For a moment, he doesnāt even breathe.
Slowly, carefully, Jack glances down.
His first instinct is confusion. The second is something sharper, something protective, immediate, instinctual.
Every muscle in his body locks into place, not out of tension but control. The same control he uses in a fight but now, itās focused entirely on one thing: Not waking you.
His breathing slows, deliberate and measured. Even the rise and fall of his chest becomes smaller, steadier.
He adjusts once, barely noticeable, shifting just enough so your head rests more securely, his arm subtly moving to support you without disturbing your sleep.
āā¦.Tch,ā he mutters under his breath but thereās no real irritation behind it.
Justā¦.something unfamiliar.
If anyone gets too close, Jack notices instantly. His gaze snaps up, sharp and warning.
That look alone is enough.
Minutes pass. Maybe longer.
Jack doesnāt keep track.
All he knows is that youāre still there, still leaning against him, still breathing evenly and he hasnāt moved an inch.
Because for once, strength isnāt about fighting.
Itās about holding still.
Ali Jr. is talking when your head dips slightly against him.
He glances down and smiles immediately.
For a moment, he just looks at you, something soft and almost disbelieving settling into his expression.
Then, carefully, he shifts.
āAlright,ā he murmurs under his breath, voice dropping instinctively. āGuess Iām not moving anytime soon.ā
He adjusts his position so youāre more comfortable, one arm coming up just slightly, not quite holding you but close enough to steady you if you shift.
No more loud jokes. No playful commentary.
If someone approaches, he doesnāt snap or glare. He simply raises a hand slightly, a small gesture that says not right now.
And somehow, thatās enough.
Ali Jr. leans back just a bit, letting you rest more easily against him, his gaze drifting between you and the surroundings.
Thereās a quiet pride there.
Out of everyoneā¦.you chose him.
And heās not about to ruin that by moving an inch.
Pickle notices the change instantly.
One moment youāre moving, talking, alive with energy.
Your body leans into him, your head resting against his side, your breathing slowing.
Pickle tilts his head, studying you closely.
He leans in slightly, sniffing the air around you, listening carefully to your breathing.
Immediately, his posture changes.
He shifts closer, lowering himself slightly so youāre more supported, one large hand hovering near you, not touching too much, justā¦.there.
His eyes scan the area constantly now, alert in a way thatās different from before.
If anything moves too quickly or gets too close, Pickle reacts instantly, his attention snapping toward it, ready.
Because the energy around him changes.
This moment. This person.
