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#I wanted to write something so soft
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Steve's not obsessed with Eddie's hands.
He's not.
They're just... he happened to notice them, once, when Eddie was listening to Dustin talk through how he might want to make his first DM campaign play out.
Steve wasn't even really paying attention at first, just reading some comic he'd found lying in Eddie's room. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he'd seen it. Movement.
Eddie and Dustin were sitting at the small kitchen table, Dustin talking about puzzles and traps and monsters and Eddie was smiling, nodding encouragingly, looking more and more exicted. But it wasn't the movement of his head that drew Steve's attention.
It was his hands.
They were resting on the sides of his legs, tapping.
Steve could only see one hand really, but he could see Eddie's other arm jumping the same way, his hands moving faster and faster the more excited he got, until they were just hovering near his legs, flapping in the air beside him as he smiled widely at Dustin. He suggested a few things, to Dustin, Steve's pretty sure that's what he was saying anyway, his ears weren't great anymore if he wasn't focused, and right now, all of his focus was on Eddie's hands.
Dustin slapped his hand on the table, pointed at Eddie and then started scribbling as Eddie laughed, Steve always managed to hear Eddie's laugh, his hands flapping harder, slapping at his thighs.
Steve vaguely hears his name, cocks his head to the side, but doesn't respond, his eyes still locked on Eddie's flapping hands, and then they stop moving. Both of them freezing, the one Steve can see clamps down on Eddie's thigh, fingers pressing into his jeans.
Steve blinks. Tears his eyes away. Looks at Eddie.
He's staring at Steve, his cheeks tinted pink. Steve swallows, gives him a little smile before Dustin has his attention, chatting at him about what he and Eddie had just come up with.
Steve hears about half of it. Nodding when he thinks he should, trying his best to sound interested. It's enough for Dustin. The barely there commitment. And usually Steve is better at engaging with him, even though he has no clue what he's talking about.
But he's distracted. His eyes keep wandering to Eddie's hands. But they don't move again the whole time he's there, Eddie's knuckles turn white as Steve's eyes linger on his hand. His fingers still pressing into his thigh, they drum a quick beat here and there, but his hands don't move.
Steve sighs, drags his eyes away, and tries to keep them off Eddie. Somehow feeling like Eddie is embarrassed, or upset, that Steve had seen... whatever it was he'd seen.
~°~
It keeps happening.
Eddie's flapping hands.
Steve's eyes on them.
But he's careful now. He doesn't stare. Just steals glances when the movements draw his eye. And Eddie always has his hands under tables, or tucked close to his sides, when it happens. Like he's trying to hide it.
Steve doesn't understand why. He likes it. Every time he sees Eddie's hands moving excitedly it makes his chest flutter. Like he's so happy that Eddie's happy it just fills him with warmth.
But it happens other times too.
Not only when he's happy.
It happens when he's nervous.
Happens when he's scared.
The movements are more erratic when he's nervous or scared. His hands flap, shake, clench, and unclench at his sides.
Every time, Steve wants to reach out and touch. To take his hands, hold them in his and tell him he's okay. That whatever it is. Steve will help.
But he hides it. Behind distracting smiles, and under tables, and behind his back, sometimes. But Steve sees him, watches him, and he wants.
Wants to ask. Wants to touch. Wants to be touched.
Wants to feel Eddie's shaking, flapping, hands against him. Wants to be the reason they flap happily at his sides sometimes. Wants to feel them flap happily against his sides. Wonders if Eddie would do that against his back if he kissed him.
Or if he'd do it lying underneath Steve, clutching at his shirt before his hands just taptaptaptapped against his back as Steve pressed him into his matress.
Or maybe he'd hold Eddie's hands, up above his head. Feel his fingers tapping against his hands as Steve kissed him, nice and slow. Eddie would just tap faster, if he was happy, if he wanted that, with Steve.
Steve sighed, deeply, and glanced at Eddie's hands, his left one resting in his lap, thumb twisting at his ring. His right one, hanging down by his leg, shaking happily as he listened to Will and Dustin make plans for their new campaign, and wished he could reach out and touch him. Even just settle his hand against Eddie's, just to feel the joy shake out of his body.
~°~
The first time Steve reaches out and takes Eddie's shaking hand, is at the summer carnival.
It's hot. And crowded. And loud. And they're waiting in line for some ride the kids want to drag them on. People laughing and screaming and crowding around, jostling them and bumping their shoulders.
And Eddie had gone quiet about five minutes ago. Steve keeps glancing down, watching his hands. It takes three more minutes. But they start to shake, flapping at his sides before he grabs at his jeans, wipes his palms, lets them shake again.
Steve leans forward, tells Dustin they'll be over by the benches, and he grabs Eddie's hand, gently slides his hand into Eddie's. Eddie looks at him, blinking rapidly.
"You wanna come with me? Get outta here?" Steve asks, jerks his head to the side. Eddie nods immediately, his fingers clamping down on Steve's hand, hard. But Steve doesn't care, because Eddie's hand shakes, just once or twice, and then it stops. And his hand is warm, and strong, inside Steve's as he leads them to the benches and sits Eddie down.
He gives him a drink of his lemon shake up, snorts when Eddie makes a face at the sour taste, and then sits next to him.
Eddie takes a few deep breaths, his eyes closed. He takes his hand out of Steve's, leaving him aching for his touch. Steve just lets him go, rests his hand in his lap instead.
"Thanks." Eddie sighs, after a long moment, his eyes finally opening, they don't land on Steve. Stay locked on his lap.
"Anytime." He says, and he means it. Deep in his chest he means it, he'd do anything for Eddie. Always. Eddie smiles, finally looking at him.
"Can't believe you tried to kill me with that though." Eddie huffs, kicks Steve's shoe with his own and nods at the cup sitting between them.
Steve laughs, watches Eddie smile, his fingers twitching in his lap, his wrist twitches once, Steve's pretty sure it counts.
~°~
The second time he touches Eddie's hands, Eddie's just made them grilled cheese, his signature dish. And he's stitting in front of Steve, his chin resting in one hand, his other hand hidden under the table. He's watching as Steve chews his first bite.
"Weeeell?" He asks, impatient, as always. Steve makes a show of chewing slower, his eyes lifting to the ceiling as he hums, thinking. Eddie kicks at his shin under the table, his socked foot not hurting at all. Steve snorts, kicks back, and says,
"It's good. Really good. Best grilled cheese I ever had." He's serious, knows he sounds like he's teasing.
"Yeah? You like it? I didn't burn it? I mean I know you said you like them crispy but I thought maybe I got it too dark. Might have burnt it." Eddie rambles, and Steve just smiles, shakes his head.
"It's perfect, actually. You're a grilled cheese wizard. Or a... grilled cheese... bard. No I don't think that's a thing. Wizard applies more here, pretty sure." Steve says, waving off his own words like they're nonsense, looking toward the ceiling again to avoid Eddie's, no doubt, exasperated look.
But that's when he sees it.
His eyes are on their way to the ceiling when he sees Eddie's hand, flapping next to his thigh. Steve looks back to him, sees him beaming, and can't help himself when he reaches out and grabs Eddie's shaking hand.
But it's a mistake. He didn't know it would be. Didn't think. Had forgotten about that first day when Eddie had caught him staring and froze.
The smile drops off Eddie's face and he tugs his hand quickly away from Steve, hiding it in his lap, scooting back in his chair, away from Steve, his eyes on the table.
"Sorry. I can't- sorry." He stammers, shaking his head, his cheeks are red, his eyes darting around the table top as he curls in on himself, arms wrapped around his stomach protectively.
"What are you sorry for? You don't have to be sorry." Steve says, his voice soft, just a breath between them really. Eddie frowns, shakes his head again.
"No. It's annoying. I know it is. It just happens. I can't help it." Eddie's voice is firm, his words sound rehearsed, like he's said them a thousand times. It makes Steve's chest ache, with pain for Eddie, and with anger for whoever told him that any part of himself was annoying. Especially this part, a part of him that Steve is sure is pure joy, made visible, made tangible and expressive.
"It's not annoying." Steve says, and he sounds... mad? A little. But not at Eddie. Eddie's eyes snap up, lock on Steve's face, he doesn't blink.
"It's not." Steve reaffirms, one shake of his head. He moves his hand, slides it across the table top slowly, towards Eddie, and then turns it, palm up, waiting.
Eddie's eyes twitch from his face to his hand and back again. Steve smiles, small, and wiggles his fingers, gives Eddie a nod.
"C'mon. It's okay." He nods his head again, eyes dropping to his hand and then back to Eddie's face. Eddie swallows, sits a little straighter, unwraps his arms from his stomach. Steve sees his arms flex, knows Eddie is squeezing his thigh under the table, nervous. But then he moves, slowly brings his hand up, and places it in Steve's.
He sighs, the contact he's been waiting for finally made, Eddie's breathing is shakey as he watches Steve curl his fingers around his hand, pull it closer across the table.
"It's not annoying Eddie it's-" Steve pauses. Eddie frowns, a grimace really.
"Hey. No. I mean it. I like it." Steve says, and Eddie looks at him, his eyes moving back to their tangled hands over and over.
"You do?" He asks, and he sounds so fucking small. So unsure. So Steve does the only thing he can think of, he stands, drags Eddie to his feet as well, and then presses a kiss to Eddie's knuckles.
"I do. I really do. That's why I was staring." Steve says, breathes it against Eddie's hand, smiles when Eddie's fingers twitch against him.
"I'm sorry it made you uncomfortable. But it wasn't because I was annoyed. I promise you that. You believe me?" Steve ducks his head a little, tries to get Eddie to look at him, he's got his free hand up by his mouth, his nail worrying between his teeth. And Steve has to smile, can see Eddie thinking, trying to make sure he does, believe Steve. One moment more and Eddie nods, presses his lips together, and looks at Steve.
"I believe you." He says, teeth worrying into his lip.
"Good. So you- I mean you don't have to hide it. Around me. If you don't want. Cuz I meant what I said. I like it. A lot." Steve feels heat rush into his cheeks and closes his eyes, breathes against Eddie's knuckles for a moment before he looks back up to see Eddie smiling at him. Looking a little in awe. A little breathless.
"You like it that much?" His nose scrunches and Steve just want to fucking kiss him. He nods instead.
"Yeah. I really do. It's like you've got... I don't know... happy little bat wings. Just flapping around you when you're having a good time. I love it. I love-" Steve stops, the words caught in his throat, because that's too much. Maybe. For right now. But he feels it. Has felt it for Eddie for awhile now, the warmth of it humming beneath his skin when Eddie's near him.
Eddie's beaming at him now, tears shining in his eyes, he hides behind his hair, for just a second, before he darts forward, presses his lips to Steve's, a quick press, and then he's gone again, and the space between them is small but still too much.
"Sorry. I've never done that before." Eddie breathes. Steve watches something that could be fear, or regret, pass over Eddie's features like a shadow, and refuses to let it stay there, not even a second longer.
He drops Eddie's hand and cradles Eddie's neck, draws him closer, til their sharing breath.
"Stop apologizing. I want this. You." Steve whispers, pressing his forehead to Eddie's.
"I want you t-"
And Steve kissing him. Slow. Sweet. His hands holding Eddie close. Steve moves his tongue along Eddie's bottom lip, smiles into Eddie's mouth when he gasps, and then deepens the kiss, just so, tilting Eddie's head a little for a better angle. Eddie moans into his mouth, his hands scrambling to grab at Steve's back, clenching in his shirt and unclenching as Steve tilts his world on it's axis.
And then Steve feels it, Eddie's hands, tapping against his back, like he'd thought about since that first day, like he'd dreamed about, on several occasions. Too many to count.
Steve hums into Eddie's mouth, smiles against his lips, their teeth clicking together as Eddie smiles too, laughs into Steve's mouth, his breath filling Steve's lungs as they cling to each other.
See, Steve's not obsessed with Eddie's hands.
He just knew they'd feel perfect tapping out happy rhythms against his skin.
And for once, in his traumatic, full of bullshit life, Steve was right.
He's not obsessed with Eddie's hands.
But he does love them.
The way they move, and shake, and show all of Eddie's joys, wild, and uncontrolled.
And his to hold.
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callsign-relic · 8 months
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Thinking about Optimus noticing you’re tired when you refuse to stop working.
He knows how hard you’ve been working to keep up with the Autobots. Or even in your personal life away from him, Optimus knows you’ve been doing so much. And you’re so tired. But no matter what you do, you never feel it’s enough.
He finds you at your workdesk within the base, leafing through papers like a zombie. It wasn’t long until you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore, and your head falls into your crossed arms at the desk. With a little gasp, Optimus approaches you.
“Oh, sweetspark…” his gentle voice murmurs from above you, and you’re awakened from your stupor. You jolt upwards— only for a thumb to reach down and lightly press on your cheek, pushing you gently back down onto your work table.
“No, no. Stay there.” Despite the pure kindness to his tone, you could tell he was worried for you. Slowly, more of his blue-plated digits come into your vision, and you realize Optimus was scooping you up into his servos.
Slowly, you’re lifted up and away from your desk— despite how you uselessly reach back down. A blue light fills the corner of your eye, and you turn your head to see Optimus gazing at you with furrowed brows.
“Come, dear. You look exhausted. I can’t imagine how you must feel. Please, let me help you get some rest.”
You do your best to keep your eyes open. You raise a hand to object, open your mouth to argue—
But then, you feel the faintest pulse of his spark ebbing through the plating of his servo beneath you.
The sensation lulls you into absolute security. You muster up the energy to nod, and beneath his faceplate, Optimus offers the gentlest of smiles— one you can see softly lift the corners of his optics.
Slowly, the mech brings you forward to his chassis, cradling you in his hand. You lean your head forwards, close your eyes, and spread your arms against the warm glass of his windshields, letting the feeling of his deep, thrumming spark flow through you. You take in one slow breath, then another— and eventually, you find your own heartbeat has matched pace with his even throbs.
“Relax,” Optimus whispers, and that’s what you do, melting into his gentle touch. “Let me take you somewhere more comfortable. Then, we can rest as much as you need.”
And as the Prime slowly starts forward, careful not to disturb your tiny form too much in his hold, you only give him a little nod once more. With the gentle rocking of his footsteps, it wasn’t long until you drifted off to sleep entirely, before you even made it to his berthroom.
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luxaofhesperides · 5 months
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Surprise husbands + "How are you real?" ; requested by @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff!
They may not have planned to get married, or even wanted it all too much at the beginning, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to treat each other right. It was rough going, with both of them coming out of relationships and having secret identities, but time had softened the hurt feelings and allowed them to actually get to know each other.
And Danny, Duke has discovered, is a really good husband. 
Neither of them ever saw themselves as married at 20, but sometimes life throws horrible curses at you and the embodiment of balance and life and death swoops in to save your life. Via marriage. 
His life is weird, okay? Duke has made his peace with it.
The thing is, if they had met naturally and started off as friends, Duke could see himself falling for Danny and asking him to marry him in a far off future. Instead, they’re doing everything backwards: married, then going on dates to know each other, and finally feeling close enough to be friends. 
It helps that Danny does his best to communicate and that helps Duke find the words he needs as well. 
He’s sweet, too, so kind and doting and affectionate. Like a really lovable cat, honestly. Duke’s never been cuddled so much in his life and he’s loving every minute of it. 
He… might be falling in love with his husband. What a revelation.
“Duke?” 
He blinks, looking up from his half-empty plate, pulled out of his thoughts suddenly. Tim and Dick stare at him, concerned, and he realizes he’s missed the entire conversation because he was so preoccupied thinking about Danny. In his defense, it was their one year anniversary the night before and Danny had kissed him for the first time after a date night spent playing video games and talking shit about their respective rogues. 
Tim snaps a finger in front of his face, and Duke startles. He got distracted by his Danny Thoughts again.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“You okay? You’ve been out of it all day,” Dick says, clearly concerned.
“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s all good. Just… adjusting.”
“To what? Did something happen?”
Duke shrugs, scooping up another forkful of pasta to shove in his mouth. “Yeah, I… this is going to sound kind of stupid, but I think I’m in love with my husband.”
Tim, taking an ill-timed drink, chokes and spits out his Zesti. Dick springs back, trying to get out of the spray zone but doesn’t move far, shocked still by Duke’s words.
“Oh, yeah,” Duke realizes, “I didn’t tell you guys, did I?”
“You’re married?!” Tim shrieks as Dick clutches at his chest, eyes wide.
“You didn’t tell me?” Dick asks, offended.
“Seriously? That’s what you focus on?”
Duke smiles as they begin to bicker. They do it constantly, but this time it’s halfhearted, as if they’re just going through the motions of something familiar to distract themselves from the bomb he’s dropped on them.
In all fairness, Duke did forget that he didn’t tell them that he’s married to Danny. He’s also only mentioned Danny once or twice and heavily implied that Danny was just a classmate at GCU. And then forgot that he didn’t tell them, assuming that they’d figure it out eventually being Batman trained detectives, after all.
Well. 
Oops.
Clearly that is not the case. Duke hurries to finish his pasta before Tim and Dick finish their joint freak out and get their senses back together enough to interrogate him. He can’t escape it, but he refuses to have this discussion with an empty stomach. 
He just barely manages to scrape the last mouthful off the plate when his fork is being yanked out of his hands. Tim and Dick close in on him, standing to either side of him, trapping him in place, and look at him with knife-sharp smiles.
Here we go, Duke thinks tiredly, and resigns himself to clearing up this misunderstanding.
Somehow, he manages to explain the situation (I got cursed, he saved my life, we ended up married because magic is bullshit, he treats me so well) and Tim and Dick both agree to not hunt down Danny to show him the wrath of older brothers on one condition: Danny has to join them for a family dinner.
“Don’t worry, we’ll catch everyone up on your… situation,” Dick says, pulling on his jacket to head out. Tim is already on his phone, no doubt telling someone already. 
“Great,” Duke says, unenthused. “You’ll also be answering all the questions because I’m not in the mood. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to figure out a day that works for all of us, and then I’m going to kick my husband’s ass in Mario Cart.”
He walks out the door, grinning as he hears them scramble after him, then twists the ring on his finger (not a wedding ring, but a magic portal making gift) and steps into the portal. It closes quietly behind him, leaving him in Danny’s lair, a comfortable, spacious house with high ceilings and little bits of his personality scattered about. There are soft rugs with geometric patterns on them, star maps on the wall, stained glass windows that throw colors across the floor, and a giant couch and pillow pit in the living room.
Danny’s asleep in it, curled up and looking completely at peace. Duke toes off his shoes and carefully makes his way over, footsteps silent so he doesn’t wake him up, all plans of Mario Cart fading away instantly.
Danny doesn’t get much sleep, with the stress of school and an internship and ghost fights to worry about. It’s why his lair is so quiet and comfortable; it’s what he needs, and he doesn’t let anyone else in without invitation, rare as it is.
Duke is allowed to waltz right in thanks to the ring Danny gave him. It never stops making him feel overwhelmed by how much trust Danny puts in him to allow him unlimited access to what is his only true sanctuary, letting his lair be a place of safety and respite for Duke as well. 
He crawls into the pillow pit, There’s no way to do this without waking Danny up since he can’t fly, so he isn’t surprised to see Danny blink his eyes open, still looking soft and content. He smiles when he sees Duke, reaching a hand out to him that Duke gladly takes, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss his palm.
Sitting up, Danny tilts his head up in a silent request. Duke happily obliges, still reeling over the fact that he’s allowed to do this! He can kiss his husband whenever he wants! 
Yeah, he’s going to be riding that high for a while.
“Hey,” Danny murmurs, sleepy and quietly pleased to see him.
“Hi honey,” Duke returns fondly, “Have a nice nap?”
Danny nods, leaning into Duke and closing his eyes again. “Mhm. How long are you staying? I wanna cuddle.”
“I got nothing going on today. I’m all yours, baby.”
“C’mon,” Danny tries to tug him down. Duke goes slowly, covering Danny’s body with his own, but holds himself with one hand before he blankets his husband completely.
“Wait. There’s something we need to talk about.”
Immediately, the sleepy haze is fading from Danny’s eyes, leaving him alert. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”
“Not really? You know how we agreed to keep our marriage a secret until we weren’t in danger anymore and all those cultists and sorcerers were taken care of?”
“...Yes?”
“Well.” Duke sucks in a breath and offers a bashful smile. “Guess who forgot to tell people we were married after that whole mess was dealt with?”
The nervousness clears from Danny’s gaze as he stares up at Duke with incredulous amusement. “No. No way.”
“Yeah. Kinda dropped a bomb on them and they started freaking out over me being married. Anyways, they want you to come to dinner?”
“When?”
Duke leans back, sitting on his heels. “Let me check.” He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to the group chat asking for a day they could have a family meal to meet his husband.
His phone is bombarded with texts and calls immediately until Barbara, bless her entire soul, forcibly mutes all of them and puts in a poll with a few dates, setting the poll to close in 24 hours.
“Okay, well, they’re deciding now, but probably soon.”
Danny nods. “Alright. I know these aren’t normal circumstances at all, but I’m so excited to meet the Bats.”
“You do not mean that after hearing all my stories about them.”
“No, I do!” Danny laughs, surging up to wrap his arms around Duke and pull him back down to lay among the giant pillows with him. “They sound nice!”
“The Bats sound nice?!” Duke repeats in horror. “Did you hit your head?”
“They do sound nice! You talk about them so fondly, and yeah they have problems and are dysfunctional, but they’re heroes. Of course they have problems. Even with all their baggage, they’re kind. And you clearly love them, so I do too.”
It’s hard to resist the urge to hug Danny tight enough to make him squeak while peppering his face with kisses, so Duke doesn’t. He just goes and does it, because he’s allowed to shower his husband (!) with affection (!!!) as much as he pleases.
“How are you real?” he says against the corner of Danny’s lips. “How are you so perfect! To me specifically! Honey, if we weren’t already married, I’d be going down on one knee right now.”
“I mean, you still can. We never got a proper wedding either. Think if we offer them a chance to help plan our wedding, they’ll forgive us for secretly being married for so long?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Duke says. He’s already giddy, just imagining what their wedding will look like, what song they’ll play for their first dance, where they’ll have the ceremony… He should create a Pinterest account to start putting ideas together. 
Later, though. He wants to woo Danny properly and take him on so many dates.
Dates which include dinner with the Waynes and Wayne-adjacents, apparently.
“You sure you’re okay with meeting them over dinner?” he asks, just to be sure. He knows how intense they can be, even when pretending to be normal civilians. It took him years to get used to them, himself, and he doesn’t want to push Danny into doing something he’s not ready to do.
Danny cups Duke’s face in his hands and gives him a quick, reassuring kiss. “I’m sure. If nothing else, it’ll be fun to see how long it takes for them to realize I’m not fully human.”
“I really am glad it’s you.”
“Yeah, me too. I’d choose you all over again if given the choice.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Duke laughs, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist.
“Can we nap now? Now that you’re here and holding me, it’s taking everything I’ve got to stay awake.”
“Yeah, we can nap now.” Duke settles into the pillows, Danny cradled in his arms and closes his eyes to bask in the quiet easiness of it all. 
He really couldn’t ask for a better husband, unexpected as he was. The others will see that too, once they meet him. It’s impossible to not love Danny once you meet him; Duke knows this all too well.
He loves his husband.
And his husband loves him back.
Duke is fully prepared to keep making that choice for the rest of his life.
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fatuismooches · 3 months
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DOTTORE SUNSET DATE... i would like to point out there's a lil Puffttore in the sky with a heart... i think that's adorable,,
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Him admitting his feelings... :3 (marriage soon)
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ACCEPTING THE CHOCOLATE BAR AT LIGHT SPEED... you know he loves you if he shares his sweets with you!!
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Other random things... *nom* also because i think it'd be adorable for Dottore to actually look forward to spending an eternity with you.
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Last one... he went to bed 12 AM sharp 😭
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willowser · 1 year
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katsuki jumps, startlingly, when you rub a hand up his back.
he's leaned too far down, bent over the counter at an angle that will give him an ache he'll complain about later, and his head whips up as you come to stand beside him. an e-mail on his phone is what previously had his full attention, but now he looks at you, eyes softening as you lean into his shoulder.
he's never been a very touchy guy. even after a year into your relationship, it's most often you reaching for his hand as you walk down the street; you pressing a kiss into his cheek while watching a movie on the couch; you running a hand through his hair as his breath steadies out beside you in bed.
it's not something you really complain about. you know how he is, knew before anything developed between the two of you, and you can't say it's a deal-breaker. there's little you know about his previous relationships or if he even had any, but you have the painful-gut feeling that affection just isn't something he's used to.
you press a smile into the sleeve of his shirt and his spine relaxes under your hand, finds that awful curve again. he watches you like he's waiting for something, tracing the tender details of your face.
"love you," you say, because do and you want to voice it aloud, put it into his mind even though you know he knows. as expected, his lips flatten into a wavering little line, shy suddenly, and your teeth wet the fabric of his shirt when you smile.
all you get is a little grunt in response and he dips his chin down in a wordless nod, accepting your lovey-dovey assault. it makes him feel a little helpless, you know, but you bring up an arm to wrap around him as he turns back to his phone, ears pink.
katsuki straightens with a dull pop!, stretching his arms up and allowing you to shuffle closer, so that your head is resting on his chest. you press your ear to it and wait, eyes closed, until the heavy promise of his heartbeat echoes like a drum in your ear. it's loud, and after a moment, your own falls into sync, right where it belongs.
"'s'wrong?"
"hm?" you glance up at him, the frown on his pink face, before breathing in the clean scent of his laundry soap. your laundry soap. and then you shake your head. "nothin'. just missed you."
"been home all day."
"i know," you sigh, letting your eyes fall shut again. the sound of his phone locking clicks and you can feel the slight down-slide of his sweatpants when he pockets it. "sometimes i miss you even though you're right here."
you expect — something; another grunt or laugh through his nose, a raspy little noise that voices his confusion. things like this can be hard for him; you know how he is, knew before anything ever developed between the two of you — but you don't think it makes him any less deserving.
katsuki steps back from you a little, and you feel the hesitant rise of his arm before you feel it. his hand comes up to your face — pink and scarred in your peripheral vision — and he tilts your head up, waits until you open your eyes.
when you do, it looks as if a million things are running through his head. his poker-face is good, it has to be, but you can see little bits of his vulnerability shining through. you wonder how long it's been since he showed it to anybody. he almost looks sad.
katsuki squeezes your cheeks until your lips pucker, and his frown deepens when you laugh. "y're so...damn weird."
that's along the lines of what you were anticipating: one of his teasing little insults, warm with a fire he's still learning how to kindle. you don't get the chance to say anything before he's kissing you, eyes shut tight, lashes brushing against your own.
you expect something soft, because affection is a fickle thing, from him — but his hand never falls from your face and his tongue is sliding with yours suddenly, a heated gesture that throws your heart out of whack. you let him kiss you as deeply as he can, until your back arches painfully backward over the counter as he leans into you.
when he pulls away, his lips are a little swollen and his cheeks are burning, as he presses one into yours. "i—jus'—" katsuki tries and then abandons it, a hand curling into the material of your shirt. "i get it." he murmurs, there, into the heated skin of your face, heart beating in time with yours.
things like this are hard with him — but he makes them so, so worth it.
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saturnvs · 1 year
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now you hang from my lips like the gardens of babylon
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crybaby-bkg · 10 months
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Being in the forest, you’ve come across all kinds of things, people, beings. You, being one of them, a fairy, an olden one of your kind, the kin that’s far and few to find just lurking around. So you’re special, held in high regard to those who frequent your area of the forest, respected and highly praised. Most know to bow and smile without teeth when they see you, except for one.
He’s new, you suspect, with his too big green eyes and tilted head. He takes in every part of the forest, mumbling to himself, picks at his bottom lip. His hands rests on his hips, and you notice his chest is naked and his lower half is covered in thick, dense fur. It tapers off into shiny hooves that he taps into the soft grass, and you wonder when the last time you saw a satyr was.
He’s a pretty one, you think, with thick curly green locks and curious eyes. His ears are pointed and they twitch in your direction at your giggle when he trips over a tree root. His gaze swivels over to the flower you rest on, and he perks up at the sight of it, clumsily making his way to you.
Everything’s all giggles from you, until he picks up the flower you rest on, mouth opening as the flower comes quickly to his mouth. Before he can devour you, you screech at him, something in your old tongue that nobody in a thirty mile radius could understand. But he stops, pulling the flower back, his curious green eyes widening when he finally makes out your camouflaged body sitting prettily in the bud of the flower.
“Have you no manners?” You ask, voice a huff that makes the satyr’s head tilt in the other direction. He blinks a few times before his eyes widen in excitement, mouth dropping open as he takes you in.
“You’re a…” his voice delves off, as he realizes what kind of fairy you must be. One he’s only heard of in tales, ones that are as old as time. He can’t believe he’s seeing one in real time, much less almost eating one!
“Give me your name, and I’ll forgive your indiscretion.” You offer him, chin jutting out in his direction. He knows he shouldn’t, knows you guys are full of tricks, that he should only admire from afar. But you’re so pretty in that ethereal type of way, and so, so tiny in his hands, that he wonders just how much damage you could actually cause. So he bites the bullet, doesn’t even realize that with just a name, he’s sealed his fate.
“Izuku. My name is Izuku.”
Izuku, or Deku as he likes to be called, has become so subservient to you as the days go on. Carries you everywhere, despite your wings working perfectly fine. Feeds you the fruit from trees without a single complaint, bathes you in the lakes despite his face always turning so red.
He even touches you the way you like to be touched. Lets you stay in his palm, figure hidden behind thick trees, a patch in the openness of the forest where only you two reside. He holds his thickest finger above you, watches with intent vermillion eyes as you lay on your back in his palm, rubbing your tiny little clit all over the pad of his finger. He could crush you in this position, but all he can think of is how immoral it would be to kill an ancient fairy from trying to shove you on his too big cock.
And despite using his big fingers to get you off for so long, it still isn’t enough. He’s surprised, one dusky morning, when he enters that patch in the forest that’s become you guys’ special spot, and doesn’t find you sleeping on a leaf. No, instead, Deku finds someone who looks eerily like you, only bigger in size—so, so much bigger.
Your hair looks so soft and your skin glows an eery golden haze around it. Your wings look iridescent in the slithers of morning light, as they flap lightly when he enters the thicket. Your body is bare, and it only feels that much intenser when everything is so much bigger, so easier to see in the broadening of your skin.
Your eyes are devious, with a downright cruel smile. You stretch where you lay, yawning a little, flipping on your back as you look at Izuku upside down, body bare and on display. It makes him think back to how hard he would have to strain to look in between your legs, now looking away at just how clear everything is.
“It’s time to prove your usefulness to me, Izuku. Are you ready?” You ask in a voice so sultry, he thinks he might melt on the spot. He should’ve known better than to give an ancient fairy his name, knows he’s spellbound to you and your every wish for eternity. But a part of him wishes he only would’ve met you sooner.
“I’m more than ready.”
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enha-stars · 2 months
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oh i’m having major sunghoon thoughts rn 🫠🫠
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clover-46 · 11 months
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the writers on here making the miguel fics need to remember his fangs inject paralytic venom hes not a real vampire it was just a joke in the movie 😭
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oh but i still want him to bite me don’t get me wrong idgaf if they have venom 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️
#the copious amounts of smut i’ve seen with this man and the fangs is crazy#y’all need to tone it DOWN wheres the fluff omg??#there’s like so many smut x reader fics clogging the miguel o’hara tag and people can express their creative liberties or whatever but it’s#getting CRAZY#like why is almost nobody talking about his character and writing an analysis on him#AND WHY ARE SO MANY FICS WRITING HIM TO BE SOME FERAL AND MEAN BEAST#firstly it’s feels racist to write a brown latino man that way.#second it feels fetishiz-y with how people only sexualize the fuck outta him and talk about nothing else when it comes to him#to add onto that people are drawing him with a MUZZLE on#at first all this didn’t really register in my head as bad but after seeing so much i see it 😭#also some spanish speakers have said people are using incorrect spanish when writing dialogue for him and thats kinda funny#don’t use google translate please 💀#miguel o’ hara#spiderman 2099#across the spiderverse#i also saw someone say miguel would not be a good partner or something and i just know you didn’t pay attention#and i wont go into why because its spoilers but we have seen him be soft and happy with someone he cares about it’s just trauma that has#made him mean and depressed#he was obviously projecting onto miles in the movie when he acted like that let’s be fr#why am i writing a novel down here idk i just wanted to talk about it a little#i love the smut (trust me) but pleaaseee don’t start being fetishize-y
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valeriianz · 1 year
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had thoughts about Dream being able to sleep, how soft and human he would look. for your consideration:
Hob announced his arrival from work with a long sigh, heavy with exhaustion, and leaned into the door as he opened it and stepped into his flat. He dropped his keys in the little bowl and toed off his shoes. He had just shrugged off his messenger bag when he noticed a pair of large black boots in the living room, stark against his off-white rug. They were about a meter apart, like they’d been kicked off or tossed aside without a second thought.
With one brow raised, eyes scrupulous, Hob deposited his bag on the couch and bent down to pick up first one boot, then the other, tucking them together and neatly placing them on the wooden floor next to a bookshelf.
“Dream?” Hob called out, straightening up and casting his gaze upon the room. It wasn’t like Dream, when he paid surprise visits, to not immediately be within eyesight of the door, let alone leave his shoes haphazardly on the carpet.
Hob’s eyes landed on the entryway of the hall, spotting Dream’s thick, long coat in a heap on the center of the floor. Worry began to creep in as Hob slowly stepped up to Dream’s mystical coat, his pulse thrumming under his skin. He stooped down, grabbing it by the collar and brushing it off with his other hand. The material felt luxurious in Hob’s hands, soft like cashmere or shahtoosh, but also durable– something akin to wool or even canvas. Hob’s fingers caressed the fabric, feeling the lip of the tall collar between his thumb and fingers. 
Gently folding the coat over one arm, Hob continued down the hall, stepping softly, carefully. 
Hob’s bedroom door was open, the rays of the setting sun streamed in through the window and lit up the entryway, revealing more dark clothes in a jumble leading into the room.
Swallowing, lips parting, Hob bent down once more to collect Dream’s t-shirt, his pants and, following the line of mayhem, his socks, taking them all into his arms. Hob wasn’t sure what he expected to see when he finally straightened up and turned, but it certainly wasn’t this.
Hob almost dropped all the clothes he had spent carefully collecting, his mouth going dry. 
There was a considerable, person-sized lump in Hob’s bed, buried under his thick gray comforter. The only indication that it was indeed Dream laying in Hob’s bed, was the mane of wild dark hair poking out from the mass of linens.
Hob took a step forward, then another, crushing the pile of clothes to his chest as he walked around the bed, his gaze transfixed to the top of Dream’s head– a smattering of black ink spilled on his white pillow. He held his breath as he finally came to face Dream, the only part of him sticking out was his nose and eyes, Dream’s impossibly long lashes draped down, threatening to brush the tops of his cheeks.
Hob felt his jaw drop, lips parting in wonder at this ethereal creature in his bed.
Dream was sleeping.
Or… it looked like he was sleeping. The shape of him steadily rose and fell, imitating breath that Hob knew Dream didn’t need. Hob didn’t think Dream needed sleep, either… or was even capable of it. Was Dream sick? Had he been injured?
Hob quietly deposited the bundle of clothes into a wicker chair in the corner of his room, turning back to Dream and leaning over him, slowly pressing one hand into the mattress next to him, and bringing the other up to lay it against Dream’s forehead.
Hob immediately felt foolish, of course Dream didn’t get sick, he’d nearly beaten it into Hob by now, how Endless never fall ill (not in the way humans do, apparently), but Dream did actually feel quite warm. Hob moved his hand from underneath Dream’s soft fringe, grazing his fingers down the side of his head, brushing the shell of his ear, cheekbone, and across his pointed nose, unable to get any further with the blanket folded up tight around half his face.
With his heart lighter than it’d felt in a long time, Hob couldn’t resist carefully hooking his fingers around the edge of the comforter, leaning in close as he pulled it down to expose Dream’s lips and chin. He looked softer, like this– human and vulnerable. There’s a trust here, Hob knows, his chest tightening, as his knuckles caress down the line of Dream’s jaw, free of blemishes and marble smooth. Hob swallowed again, his eyes flicking down in unrestricted interest at the line of Dream’s concealed body, cocooned in creamy grays. He looked back up, focusing on plush lips that are too red for Dream’s alabaster skin, like they’d been bitten.
Hob’s own teeth pull on his bottom lip, moving his hand to press a thumb against that mouth, barely touching, like a paint brush, dragging it from corner to corner.
“What are you doing?”
Hob huffed a surprised laugh, but didn’t remove his hand. Dream’s voice was lower than usual, thick, and rumbly, pulled from a deep slumber.
“Checking your temperature,” Hob answered in a whisper. His breath caught in his throat as Dream’s eyelids fluttered open, crystal blue eyes focusing right on him.
Christ almighty, he was gorgeous. Hob still couldn’t believe it sometimes, that he was allowed to see this, to be regarded by such beauty, such a divine entity. That he could call Dream his, and be confident in the knowledge that he was Dream’s, too. Hob felt himself begin to shake, his thumb was still at Dream’s lips, which had parted slightly when he’d spoken, his hot breath hitting Hob and causing something both carnal and pure to race through his blood, something devotional.
“You’re quite warm,” Hob tried again. Dream hadn’t spoken, only watched him, like he was waiting for something.
“Yes,” Dream’s voice ran over Hob in that velvety way of his; a warm tide crashing over him and lifting Hob up.
“I was seeking warmth. You weren’t home, and I know how pleasant you are after a long rest.”
“Pleasant?” Hob’s lips curled in a smile, distractedly pressing his thumb a little harder against Dream’s bottom lip.
“Tepid.” Dreams amended, parting his lips and allowing Hob’s thumb access.
Hob gasped softly as Dream bit down, his eyes blazing now, the black of his iris growing so there was no more blue. Hob hummed, his fingers curled around Dream’s chin, tilting it up.
There’s a tongue that swipes the tip of his thumb and Hob knows he’s lost, feigning nonchalance was never his strong suit when it came to this entity in his bed. His heart crashes against his ribs and Hob’s sure Dream can hear it, can hear the desire there.
A bare arm slips out from the pile of gray and latches onto Hob’s bicep, pulling him down. Hob goes along with a smile, getting one knee up on the bed, then the other, dislodging his fingers from Dream’s face to steady himself.
They lift the comforter together, allowing Hob to crawl in next to Dream. The shock of the sudden temperature hike against Dream’s bare skin makes Hob’s breath catch, desperately wishing he’d taken his clothes off first.
“Christ, Dream it’s like a furnace under here.” He’s never felt Dream radiate so much heat before. He truly was learning something new about this man– Endless, every day.
Dream’s long arm pulls the blanket back down, going around Hob’s middle and tucking it under him, coaxing Hob to be flush against his sinew body, usually firm with restrained strength, now soft from sleep. Dream’s chin tilts down, lips brushing Hob’s forehead.
“Could be hotter,” he murmurs, lips traveling down, his sharp nose nudging against Hob’s face, encouraging him to meet him evenly.
Hob is already panting, he’s sure he’s already sweating too, but he meets Dream’s mouth eagerly, pressing hard, getting his hand back on his face to cup Dream’s jaw.
“Well,” Hob pants as Dream wetly breaks the kiss, pressing his lips instead up Hob’s face and into his hairline. “I certainly wasn’t expecting this today.”
Dream hums, the sound reverberating down his body and tickling Hob’s senses. 
“I’m pleased I can still surprise you.”
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patheticgirlsteve · 1 year
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Steve loves Eddie's hands. They're beautiful and they're kind of impossible not to stare at, Steve thinks. He's not really sure how everyone else manages to pull their eyes away from them when they're playing guitar at The Hideout, or gesticulating with gusto during one of their Hellfire sessions, or when they're absently spinning the rings that adorn his fingers.
So, yeah, Steve loves Eddie's hands, thinks about them constantly. About what they would feel like holding Steve's hand as they sit together on the couch during movie night, or how they would feel cupping his face as he leaned in for a kiss, or how they would feel sinking into Steve's hair, tugging just a little.
So when Steve sees his opportunity to find out just how those hands feel cradled in his own, he takes it.
They've been at the trailer all day, smoking and just hanging out together with no expectations. These are some of Steve's favorite days lately, just spending time with Eddie, listening to him ramble about whatever nerd tangent he's gone off on any given day.
He specially likes days like today, specifically. Days when Eddie's writing music. He won't let Steve see what lyrics he's frantically scrawling into his notebook, but Steve gets to hear the music and that's enough for him. He's kind of honored to be allowed to witness what is clearly a very personal process for Eddie.
Eddie's been playing and writing and playing and writing and playing some more all day, and Steve sees his chance as soon as Eddie puts his baby back on her mount on the wall and flops back onto his bed with a wide grin.
Steve grins back and doesn't say anything as he reaches out and grabs one of Eddie's hands. He carefully starts removing the bulky silver rings from Eddie's fingers.
"What are you doing?" Eddie is watching Steve with an intensity that is hard to ignore, but Steve just continues in his task. He's on a mission and he will not be derailed.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Steve says, slipping off the last of Eddie's rings. They're sitting close, Eddie leaned back against his pillow and Steve cross-legged next to him with his body turned toward Eddie's like a sunflower finding the sun.
"It looks like you're taking off my rings. Why are you doing that? Are you trying to steal them? You could just ask, you know, I'd give you one if you wanted," Eddie doesn't sound upset, just confused and maybe a tiny bit flustered underneath his joking tone. Steve would check to see if Eddie's face has that delightful little flush that it sometimes gets when Steve touches him a little more tenderly than usual or flirts with him a little more overtly.
Steve would like to look, but he thinks he might lose his nerve if he does, so he keeps his eyes focused on Eddie's hands. On Eddie's long fingers, his chipped nails, his calloused fingertips. He places the removed rings into a small pile on Eddie's bedside table, in the little jewelry dish that Steve had gotten for him last month.
"No thanks, they're not really my style. I'm taking them off so that I can do this," And he pulls Eddie's arm out a little further from his body so that he can start massaging Eddie's palm with both of his thumbs.
"Oh," Eddie gasps and Steve feels a rush of satisfaction at how out of breath Eddie sounds. Steve chances a look up and is quietly delighted to see that Eddie is indeed blushing.
"Yeah," Steve offers a small smile as he turns his attention back to Eddie's hand in his. "I figured your hands must be cramping a bit after playing and scribbling things down in your little notebook all day."
Steve sees Eddie nod out of the corner of his eye.
"Yeah, um," Eddie says and Steve's heart is racing in his chest. "Thanks, that, uh, it feels good."
"Good," Steve looks up at Eddie with another small smile and releases his hand. "Other hand?" He holds his own palm up for Eddie to place his hand in, which he does bashfully.
"Okay," Eddie is staring openly at Steve almost like he can't believe that Steve would want to massage his hands, which Steve thinks is ridiculous because it's not like he's been subtle about his attraction to Eddie for the past several months.
Steve squeezes Eddie's hand quickly before he works his thumbs into his other palm and it's a little bit sweaty now, but Steve doesn't mind. They sit in companionable silence while Steve finishes the massage.
When he's done, he doesn't release Eddie's hand back to him, just sits with it in his own for a moment. He could do something now, it's a risk, but Steve's almost positive now that Eddie feels the same way about Steve that Steve feels about Eddie. And even if Steve's wrong about that he knows that Eddie won't give him shit for being queer.
So, why not? The benefits of being right outweigh the fear of being wrong and Steve makes up his mind.
"Steve?" Eddie asks slowly, but makes no move to remove his hand from Steve's grip.
"Eddie," Steve answers and brings Eddie's knuckles up to trace across his lips. Steve hears Eddie gasp as he places a gentle but undeniable kiss on the center of Eddie's knuckles, letting his lips linger for a moment before pulling back to look at Eddie's face.
For such a small kiss Eddie looks absolutely wrecked, his face is flushed, his eyes are blown wide, and his mouth is hanging open. Steve's eyes drop to Eddie's lips unconsciously and Eddie closes them with a swallow that makes his adam's apple bob tantalizingly.
"Eddie," Steve repeats and he inches forward so that his knees are pressed up against Eddie's thighs, his face hovering over Eddie's. "Tell me if I'm wrong, okay?"
And then he kisses Eddie.
He doesn't panic when Eddie doesn't kiss back immediately, Steve's kissed enough people to know that it takes a moment sometimes for your brain to catch up with your body.
He doesn't panic, but he does feel a huge rush of relief when Eddie does kiss back, sweet and deep and Steve feels like he could drown in it.
And when one of Eddie's hands comes up to cradle Steve's face while the other works its way into Steve's hair, it feels even better than Steve had imagined.
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chr0n1c-ag0ny · 7 months
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Kunidazai reunion sparking them finally, actually, truly getting together (cause they're idiots who have essentially been and old married couple for years and were the last to notice)? I think yes.
kunikida offering his apartment to Dazai, as his partners was in no shape to be lived in, after all the time that had passed with no upkeep and the time it spent in police custody, being milled through for any potential evidence. there was no way he could let him go back to it, not now, not tonight. Kunikida needs him close tonight.
Dazai takes him up on his offer. he doesn't want to be alone. he won't admit it, but he can't be alone, he doesn't know what it would do to him, what he would do to himself if he was left unattended. so he gratefully, while making jabs and cracking jokes at his partner, follows him home.
their night proceeds as normal, as it had for years of Dazai crashing with him. Kunikida cooks while Dazai sits up on his counter, rambling on and on about anything he can think of. Kunikida never realized how much he missed Dazai's voice until the relief of not cooking in silence hit him.
when they eat Dazai drags his partner to sit on the couch, even though Kunikida hates eating on the couch, knowing he would make an exception for him, just for tonight. they sit too close to just be friends, coworkers, partners even. their arms touch, their knees lean into one another.
when Dazai's finished with his dinner he lays a head in Kunikida's lap, turning on the TV, flipping through all of his partners recorded media until he finds the show they had been watch together, every episode that aired since he was arrested is recorded and unwatched. with blurry eyes he hits play. Kunikida's hand is in his hair and it doesn't leave.
they don't talk, they don't have to, they've talked enough. for now they just want to sit and feel each other's touch and hear each other's breathing. it's all they need.
its nearly 3 in the morning when Dazai finally starts to doze, he'd curled up into a ball, halfway in Kunikida's lap at that point, holding onto one of his partner's hands. Kunikida knows he should get them both to bed, he should offer Dazai the room and take the couch, that he should have the man some space after all he'd been through. but he aches at the thought of leaving his side, at being separated again.
but he doesn't even have to say anything, should have known he never had to, Dazai's always been sharp as a tack, his intuition, almost terrifyingly, even sharper.
His partner turned lazily in his arms, looking up at him with tired but knowing eyes. let's go to bed, they say. you don't have to go, you can stay, they assure. please don't go, they beg.
Kunikida breathes a long, heavy, sigh of relief.
"ok," he answers, before finally getting up after hours laid up on the couch, watching as Dazai continues to doze.
his heart aches with feverish heat. he'd missed him so much he had begun to go mad, had gone mad really, and now his partner was back, he was back and alive and mostly well, and now he was so relieved it ached in its own right.
he went about making up his bed for two, for Dazai, knowing he needed enough pillows and blankets for half a dozen people, but kept stopping to look over the back of the couch to make sure he was still there, still with him, that he hadn't been taken away again. by the time he's done he's probably crossed his apartment two to three dozen times, from his room to the couch again and again, before he's finally decided the room was good enough, there were enough blankets for Dazai to cover himself with and pillows to hide in.
when he goes to Dazai this time around, he kneels in front of him, carding a hand through his hair, tracing a thumb over his brow, to his nose, and then his cheek. his partner's eyes flutter open, a smile graces his lips.
"come on," he whispers, worried too loud a voice would shatter the delicate air of safety and comfort around them, "time for bed."
Dazai hums, getting up with a stretch and a yawn, much like a cat, before gingerly hopping off the couch and into Kunikida's arms, a false smile and air of cheekiness to him, hiding the ache Kunikida knew all too well resided in his partner's heart as much as it did his own, if not more. he holds him for a moment, savoring the feeling of him in his arms, before taking his hand and leading him to their room.
Dazai knows the drill. he goes to the other man's dresser and picks out a pair of his own sweatpants, ones he kept here for nights like these, and as per usual, one of Kunikida's shirts, gliding across the room, out into the hall, and into the bathroom.
Kunikida crawls into bed, feeling like he's been hit by a bus by the days events, and ends up half asleep by the time he feels Dazai crawling into bed next to him.
he expects to see bandages peeking from the borrowed nightshirt, to watch Dazai shield himself from the world, from his partner's touch, with a swarm of blankets, for Dazai to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for him to fall asleep first.
but tonight's different, so different.
Dazai's skin is bare where the shirt doesn't cover, his scars on display, each and every one of them, the burns, the cuts, the bullet wounds, the ones Kunikida has never one been able to decipher the story of. they're all bared to him, with no visible hesitation on Dazai's end.
when his partner climbs into bed he neglects the pile of blankets laid out for him, the pillows too. instead he lifts the comforter that's draped over the entirety of the bed, Kunikida included, sliding beneath it like it's natural to him, like he'd done it every night for months, years even.
he looks at Kunikida for a moment, silently asking for permission, which Kunikida cannot give fast enough, and then Dazai's in his arms, his own wrapped around his neck, nothing between them but the clothes on their backs.
Dazai pulls away, just a bit, Kunikida almost cries out, almost pulls him back in, but knows better. he lets dazai go, but he never leaves. he's moved just far back enough so they could both look each other in the face.
"I missed you," he spoke softly, his hands shifting to hold the blonde's face.
"I missed you too,"
there's a moment of silence.
"I love you." the words are hesitant, skittish even, like he's unsure of how Kunikida would take it.
"I love you too," he replies without a second thought. he loves his partner, he loves him, more than he knows what to do with, so much it drives him mad and makes him ache.
Dazai nods. he's thinking, Kunikida can see it on his face, his mind is going a million miles a second. worry flashes on Dazai's face, and Kunikida panics, goes to pull away, goes to give Dazai space, even if his own skin burns at the thought of parting with Dazai's.
but Dazai doesn't let him, he clings to him, "Don't go, please don't go, please," he begs.
his voice is desperate, so Kunikida doesn't. he watches his partners face twist and turn, watches as fear spreads across his brow and tears gather in his eyes, and he doesn't know what to do because this has never happened.
but than Dazai leans in, slowly, tugging Kunikida closer so they can meet in the middle. Kunikida feels his partners lips on his. he kisses him back. he can't decide if that was a foolish decision or not. It's soft, softer than either of them knew they were capable of, it's gentle and earnest and good.
Dazai stops after a moment, lingers in Kunikida's space before looking him in the eye once more, he doesn't speak, they don't need to. Dazai looks at him, tears running down his face, but he's smiling, he's ok. his thumbs wipe away tears Kunikida hadn't realized he'd shed. they're ok.
"I love you," Dazai mutter's again, speaking again before the other man can answer "Kunikida?"
"yes, Dazai?"
"don't go."
"I won't."
"promise?"
"I promise." its a foolish thing to say, but Dazai needs to hear it, hell, he needs to hear it, "I'm not going anywhere, so long as you promise me the same."
he hesitates, his eyes avoid Kunikida's for a moment, before returning from their shared gaze, "I'll try, I promise, I'll really try this time"
Kunikida nods, slowly moving to kiss Dazai's forehead, the brunette leans into it.
"I know you will," he whispers into Dazai's skin, "and I'll always be here when it's too hard to manage on your own."
there's silence again, but it doesn't feel wrong or heavy, its soft and warm and it feels right.
"I love you," Kunikida finally returns.
there's more silence, Dazai just looks at him, just watches, fingers playing with Kunikida's hair and drifting over his face until something clicks into place in the other man's mind, something nobody but Dazai could ever understand.
he leans in once more to kiss his cheek before he settles against Kunikida's chest, letting out a pleased huff as he curls himself into a ball, "goodnight," he muttered, almost instantly going still with sleep.
"goodnight," Kunikida replied, knowing Dazai wasn't going to hear him, pressing his own goodnight kiss to the top of Dazai's head before burying his face in the other man's hair (Dazai doesn't smell like his shampoo anymore. it makes something in him cringe. he tries and fails to ignore it).
it takes Kunikida a while to fall asleep, he's too busy running the night over and over and over again in his mind. he holds Dazai close and lets his fingers trace over scars, feeling over his too-thin frame, feeling each bone beneath his skin. there's so many thoughts rushing through his mind, to many fears, worries, anxieties, what ifs. what if I hurt him? what if I break him? what if I ruin this?
his thoughts are only stopped when Dazai gently nudges his head into his jaw, hands pulling Kunikida's off of him, holding them gently in his own (he should have known sleep wouldn't come that easy to Dazai).
he takes a deep breath, steadying himself and his mind, his partner's hands squeeze his gently, good, they seem to say, and sleep finally starts to pull at him once more.
he lets it happen, let's his eyes close and his mind go blank, knowing Dazai is safe, he's safe in his arms, he won't be taken away again. he sleeps knowing Dazai loves him, that he kissed him, that tomorrow they'll wake up like this, and maybe, just fucking maybe they can finally have this one happy ending.
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quinn-pop · 7 months
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mtdd week day 3 - caring (pt 2)
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just another night (and it's ours)
part 1
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summertimemusician · 7 months
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Linktober Day 7
Sky(loft)
*throws rose* For the First lovers.
Soft and sweet drabble with just the barest hints of tragedy, and more set on Skyloft than anything but I'd say it counts.
This chapter was brought to you by me getting emotional about the First Hero and his fate again due to the rain, the fact I believe all Links deserve to have love and appreciation but specially him. And the fact I think it's an absolute CRIME that we don't get anything more on him and that he and Sky don't get to have what Time and Twilight have, no I'm not bitter Nintendo I just want to talk, y'all can't just keep giving us like four Links before the actual heroes and then expect us NOT to want to elaborate with the crumbs we are given. If you ask me First and Sky deserve to interact and for First to have closure.
Anyway, as always can be read as romantic or platonic, up to y'all, and can be read in or outside and LU context, I just use Sky and First for simplicities sake but if you don't gel with LU then feel free to interpret this as something else, this is all highly self indulgent before I pass the heck out lol
If there was any place in Sky’s Hyrule that you could confidently say you adored with all of your heart and soul, Skyloft would be the most likely pick.
Even so high above it all in a way that would have you catastrophizing had you think too hard about what could happen if anyone ever accidentally fell from the isle even with all of the knights trained to not allow that to happen, you’d be lying if you said that it’s a wondrous mix of empyreal beauty and the comfort of safety and the wonder of touching the sky, a true breath taking haven that could soften even the hardest of hearts with time. Fitting of the warmth of the reincarnated goddess in Sun and the vast nature of Sky’s kindness, for all you knew he could be as frigid as the title of Godslayer demanded.
Looking at the way First let himself be tugged along the isle as soon as they’ve arrived in Sky’s land in a tour just reinforced that notion, you couldn’t help but chuckle a little. First was one of the harder Links to read, even more so than Time or Warriors, but looking at the way the stars of his azure eyes brightened with the fire of life hearing Sky talk about life in his home and about the many people made you feel so, so warm, like finding a nice sunny spot for a afternoon nap.
What could you say? First was such a wondrous person, calm and charming and perfectly polite and oh so kind in the way you knew all of your boys were. If there ever was someone who embodied chivalry and the ideal side of knighthood, he’d probably be the one to come to the forefront of your mind, and you’ve been insatiable for his happiness ever since.
When he first arrived to the Chain, he was as cold as the howling blizzard winds, heart a cold fort left in ruin and remade as best as a single man could for the sake of remaining kind, to do the right thing no matter what, it was a sentiment you knew far too well in your other boys, but specially so in First, who tried so, so hard to distance himself from getting attached. But who you knew loved the sight of the sky, as cold and numb it was in it’s distance, whom cared so so much he would driven himself into an early grave just to make the Surface a safer for the people who’d shunned him, whom after a long, long period of adjustment and effort from the Chain, allowed you to hold him close as he shaked from nightmares at night, allowing you to chase away memories of being held up by cold chains until the impression of them became one with his skin and subconscious, of being entombed and imprisoned in uncaring stone and iron to starve alone, being bitten at by hungry, crawling rats all because he wished to keep his people safe, made sure he could tell that your presence was tangible and real through telling stories from your world and singing him into dreams even through the fortress’s that was his stubborness. Trying your best to make lilies bloom on what looked like a most hopeless winter.
The day he actually chuckled and smiled, safe and healthy and alive in the presence of the Chain felt like the biggest victory you’d ever had.
He deserved to know love and to be loved as much as any of your boys, something real and tangible and that was actually properly reciprocated rather than used to justify an end. So seeing him being able to visit Skyloft with his descendant with a whispering, hidden smile was more than enough for you. And you can’t blame Sky for being equally animated about it, bless his heart, always wanting his people to be happy, always so, so kind, wanting to bring some solace to the older hero but being carefully attentive so his mood was still good
After all they went through they deserved it.
“Oh! There you are, I was just about to show First to the waterfall, want to come with?”, Sky snaps you out from your thoughts, touching your shoulder with a gentle smile.
“Unless something is ailing you, you did look quite deeply in though.”, added First, soft as the warm breeze on the isle in the sky.
You shake your head, smiling as you take First’s offered arm, an instinctive motion when he wished to be close but wasn’t quite ready for any other touch yet, and Sky’s hand in yours, which he swings with a hum, ears twitching, how precious. “Not at all, lead the way.”
As Sky leads you along, and you catch the ghost of a smile in First’s otherwise stern countenance and you take in the warmth of the late afternoon sun in Skyloft and the soft, eternal spring breeze. You think there’s quite a bit you’d give to keep witnessing these moments indeed.
The road to recovery was long and arduous, but you’d be there, and you knew the Chain would do their best to be there too.
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hcdragonwrites · 8 months
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Epilogue ( @journey-to-the-au Fic)
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This is what happens at the end of Tea trouble. It’s just short but it’s because I wanted to write fluff and cuddles and warmth.
The sun sank slowly into the sea, painting that great swath of liquid to fire. Willow felt the soft weariness sneak into her face as finally, finally her family mounted their heavenly steeds and kept back into the sky. The stars were beginning to appear in the darkening night. Gold, wood, water and fire. They marked the sky with their light as she waved her sisters goodbye.
From the mouth of babes came a second peace, a second chance. Lychee had offered the peach and Winter had taken a bite from it. An exchange and a wave of apologies. Willow had spent that time swapping tales and trading secrets of her home. Of her mountain. With her sisters. They listened attentively. They touched her hand- sought comfort and reassurance they had not lost her forever in their callous remarks. Willow reassured, reaffirmed and rebounded with each of her sisters.
She was exhausted. Willow sighed, itching her scalp. Her hairpins still bothered her, and her clothes felt too heavy. She wanted nothing more then to sleep for a fortnight. Anger was an emotion Willow rarely dove into, rarely utilized and unleashed. Calm rage? Yes. Anger that blinds like this one did ? No. It left her feeling achy and tired and o so sensitive to her skin.
Willow sighed. She was so thankful to the fruit troop, to Pear and Apple, Pomelo and Mulberry. And Lychee. The bravest little mischief maker ever. The first to offer a olive branch to her sisters and to forgive them. No one will talk that way to them ever again.
For now as the sun cast itself into the sea Willow felt her final strength ebb and fade with its light. She took a step back to rebalance herself —
Great large furred arms swung her up and over broad shoulders. She squealed in surprise as Wukong raised her up, growing in size himself.
“WILLOW!” He practically roared as the rest of the mountain followed suit. Thousands of the troop came racing forward, pressing close and reaching up to her from the spot on Wukongs shoulders. The rest of them were crowing and hollering and screaming. Calling her name.
“Gather the softest pillows and blankets ! The night will hold for us all- set the guards to chasing any beasts out of the groves. Light the fire pits! And everyone GATHER YOUR FAVORITE FRUIT!” Willow heard the roar of the crowd as they thundered off. Hammocks were pulled between trees, bundles of blankets and pillows and downy things were dragged and set down in the field. Monkeys lit the fire pits that lined the clearing, the great orange light casting dancing shadows as the sun continued its decent. Willow saw the troop laugh and chortle as they brought fruits out. A veritable second feast of food. Kiwis, grapes, oranges, watermelons, melons and nectarines.
Wukong kept Willow on his shoulders. Willow was too tired to ask why or deny the outward pouring of love from her earthen family. This was just the way they heaped support and love onto her. A veritable jungle of nests and hammocks, of blanketed caves and soft spots to lay soon covered the grass all around.
To tangle and tug and touch was the Monkey way of showing love. Willow sighed, laying against her husbands very soft and large head.
“What did I do ? It was all my fault.”
“Hush you I won’t hear you taking the blame for others ever again.” Wukong admonished. Several of the troop had gathered nearby, dragging a forest of bedding and plush to make nests and enjoy the night. Wukong set himself down in the thick of the troop, taking Willow up off his shoulders and into his lap. His tail coiled around her a hand against her middle. The giant monkey practically swamped her as he chirped and cooed, crooned and kissed her temples and nose.
“Wukong don’t swallow her!” Ba admonished. Willow peered from between the fur of Wukongs neck. She felt like a chick beneath a mother hen, completely covered and warm. She saw Ba setting up a little nest beside them. Beng was busy swinging Pomelo and Mulberry about-throwing them into pillows that bounced them slightly in the air.
“Save some for the rest of us please.” Ba snorted. Lychee was seated on Chestnuts shoulders talking his mothers ear off about his day and how he and his friends had gotten Little Weaver Girl to braid them flower crowns. He still wore his on his brow, eyes bright. They two set their bedding and nesting material down beside them.
“Are we all sleeping out beneath the stars ?” Willow asked. Wukong didn’t say yes with words. He was too overcome with an emotion, a puff of pride that expanded his chest. Here was his Willow Tree. The strong women who had been betrothed to him but had chosen him- heart and soul. Willow who had turned Huaguoshan into a protected area. Willow who had stalwartly sat beside him when he had been burning and boiling and close to madness inside that bronze prison. Willow who had bravely offered herself to the Imposter to save the rest of his family. And it had been Willow again who had chosen his people and family, his friends and loved ones, and had brought to heel celestial who thought they could talk down to him and what was his.
Whatever I did - whatever luck shot through my sky and made my stone sentient - I am glad it made me in time to be with her.
“Yes princess.” He softly whispered to her. “You defended all of us yet again. You brilliant warrior.” For she was a warrior. Not of blades or fists or claws of teeth. Words were her weapon and she used them brilliantly. More accurate then an arrows fall, she pierced Huaguoshan enemies with no bloodshed.
If I had met her when I was seeking my enlightenment … before I sought Heavens recognition… he wondered. Would his life have gone on a entirely new path? Wukong mussed her hair with his teeth, nibbling until she tapped his jaw in play.
His friends settled about them and the rest of the troop began to visit Willow, offering food and comfort. The little bundle of baby fruits ran across the clearing. They had been hero’s and they didn’t even know it.
Wukong lay curled over and around Willow like some large languid cat, tail tucked possessively about her. He became larger still, letting the little fruits climb onto his back in their play. Rin Rin came forward and Wukong allowed her to take Willows hair down, to groom and to ease her scalp.
Rin Rin heard the story as Wukong, Ba, Liu and Beng recounted it. They were now all here against Wukongs side, grooming and offering fruits or each other, to Willow. The love was a warm glow in the night , a glow that came from within and rivaled that of the dying sunlight. Ba kept off his pranks and offered Willow sour green grapes- and his deepest vows of loyalty. Wukong snorted happily, a large hand gently scratching along Willows back. Beng checked their little word warrior over and then gave her a single hardy shake. Ma was blubbering with Rin Rin who simply held on and brushed Willows hair out. Liu bowed and offered his own vows of loyalty- setting Ba to trying to outdo him.
Wukong waited till the stars were bright in the sky, the moon rising now to cast her silver light to whisper and speak praise and words of love. He wanted to drown her in the emotion that beat in his chest. It was a glow as steady as the sun and as wild as the world. It was not the same love Rin Rin or Liu or Ba or Chestnut Or Beng Or Ma experienced.
Forever and always. I will See her days filled with joy and peace. I will topple the very pillars that hold this world up to give her that. Wukong watched her burrow into his side, fingers curled in his fur. He looked to the sky, to the Heavens. To beyond that- to the cosmic sphere of reality. The universe beyond the Heavens.
“Thank you for making her. She’s perfect.” Words failed. Perfect was so silly of a word. Willow was more then perfect. She was victorious, stalwart, kind, compassionate, a stone to rest his back against and the shade that hid him from the burning sun.
“I will keep you. Forever. Until the very definition of eternity crumbles. Thank you Willow, for filling my days with your love.”
Wukong kissed her temple and pulled her into his warmth, pulling several of his with her. Tails and hands, feet and limbs all intercrossed and overlapped. They were tangled, intertwined like the roots of a tree. Grounding the willow tree they all loved to their earth, to their mountain.
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thefanciestborrower · 9 months
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Nightmare Cure
A short and sweet little drabble featuring my favorite lego duo Jay and Cole engaging in some vorish shenanigans
Written for vore day 2023 :]
Contains soft, safe vore and some goofy banter
     Jay groaned, turning to flop on his back and stare at the slats supporting the bunk above his for what felt like the hundredth time. He’d thought sleeping would have gotten easier now that it had been so long since everything had happened, and truthfully, he supposed being able to close his eyes for any length of time without being assaulted by nightmares was technically an improvement, but he just couldn’t seem to fall properly asleep no matter what he did. Every time he started to finally reach that deep, restful part of sleep the nightmares would start. He hadn’t had a good night’s rest in... gosh...weeks? Months maybe? Visions of restless nights spent in a splintering box, endless games played just to watch him suffer, Nya lying still as death in his arms, a vicious hook digging into... Jay winced, rubbing his eye to rid himself of the phantom pain and bloody memory. If it could even be called a memory at this point since, technically speaking, none of that had ever happened in the first place. 
     He huffed, grabbing his pillow and smothering his face with it. Maybe if he passed out that would count as sleeping and he’d finally get some rest. After about five minutes of trying and failing to suffocate himself with his pillow Jay threw it aside and went back to staring at the slats above him, listening to the quiet snores of his brothers. It wasn’t fair! Sure he knew they had no memory of the event so he couldn’t fault them for sleeping so soundly, but it still felt like a slight. Heck, as far as he knew even Nya was having an easier time than he was, and she remembered everything! If only he could just close his eyes for more than two seconds and still feel safe! He just wanted to rest without feeling like Nadakan would reappear to snatch him away. But the Bounty wasn’t secure anymore. Nowhere was. Nowhere, except… Well it couldn’t hurt to ask right? Steeling himself against the cold he slipped out of bed and padded over to Cole’s bed, careful not to wake the others. Gosh, the last thing he wanted was to be caught asking for this.
     Jay hesitated for a moment, shuffling from foot to foot on the cold wooden floor as he stared at the form of his sleeping friend. He knew Cole wouldn’t mind, he never did, but the request still felt selfish and awkward in his mind. Like he was taking advantage of his friend or something. It was a stupid thought, and he shook his head to clear it. He did this all the time during the day so it should be no different at night right? Right. Steeling himself, Jay reached out to shake the earth ninja awake.
     “Cole.” Jay hissed, prodding his friend in the shoulder. Nothing. Cole barely shifted in his sleep, much to Jay’s irritation. “Cole!” He tried again, jabbing a little harder this time. “Come on boulder brain, wake up.”
     Cole always had been the soundest sleeper of all his brothers, so Jay was unsurprised that his efforts had yet to do anything other than make Cole groan in his sleep, but it was still a little frustrating. Well, if Cole wouldn’t wake up, he could at least opt for his plan B. Sure sleeping next to Cole wouldn’t be as nice as sleeping in him, but it would still be much better than his own bed and he had done it before anyways. Jay hated to admit all that five in the morning Wu loves subjecting them all to was really paying off as he crept under Cole’s blanket, silent and undetected. None of their beds were all that big, just barely enough to fit one person really, but Jay was quite a bit smaller than the average person. A fact which normally aggravated him, but always seemed to come in handy for midnight escapades like this one. It only took a minute for him to get settled against Cole’s chest, finally feeling safe. He sighed as he snuggled down and briefly glanced up at his friend’s face, only to go stiff. Cole’s eyes were open and staring down at him in thinly veiled amusement. Jay went crimson. 
     “Oh, so now you wake up.” He huffed, scooting away from Cole in the limited space he had on the small bed and shooting him an offended glare. He wasn’t actually mad, just embarrassed he’d been caught. Embarrassment that was only made worse as Cole proceeded to laugh at him. Laugh! Well fine then, he didn’t want Cole’s help anyways! Jay rolled over and sat up, resigned to spending another restless night in his own fighting off nightmares, when Cole stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.  
     “Jay wait,” Cole said, his voice soft, if tinged with amusement. “You don’t have to leave; you know I don’t mind sharing.”
     Jay turned to glare at Cole, though the sharp expression softened once he saw the sincerity in his friend’s eyes. Still, he made no move to lay back down. “No no it’s fine I just uh…got a little cold is all but I’m all good now! See? Just gonna head back to my own bed now don’t mind me.” Despite the confident swagger Jay was always carful to layer into his voice his words still shook and stuck in his throat, and he knew Cole would be able to tell so it was best to leave before-
     Cole’s hand grabbed his where it still rested on the bed and Jay froze. “If you’re really that cold, you’re more than welcome to stay zaptrap.”
     Jay blinked. Cole knew he was lying, the way he annunciated ‘cold’ made that clear as day, and yet, he had made no effort to pry into his reasons for doing so. Usually Cole was the first one to poke holes in his lies so the fact that he was going along with things just this once felt…nice. He didn’t want to talk, and Cole knew that, so he’d tried to lighten the mood with a playful insult, and it worked. Jay cracked a characteristically crooked smile and rolled his eyes, trying so hard to appear nonchalant when he was really very grateful.
     “Fine fine I’ll stay, but only if I get to pick where I sleep.”  Jay quipped back. “I’m feeling a little like getting my own private room tonight.” He jabbed softly at Cole’s stomach where his shirt had ridden up in the night and had the great pleasure of seeing his friend’s face turn pink, though his undoubtably looked the same if the burning in his ears was any indication. 
     “Well someone’s feeling demanding.” Cole snorted, sitting up and stretching with a yawn—not that Jay noticed the yawn since he was very pointedly looking anywhere but Cole’s mouth—before reaching around the lightning ninja to grab a single leaf from the bonsai situated neatly on his nightstand. Jay felt a shiver of anticipation run down his spine. He took the leaf from Cole without hesitation and crunched it between his teeth, shuddering at the bitter and overly herbal taste. Sure they’d usually brew the leaves into a proper tea before doing anything like this, but it would still work regardless, and Jay didn’t have the patience to brew a cup of tea right now anyways. The effect was instant. One second the bed was feeling rather cramped with the two ninjas on it, and the next, it looked as though Jay had disappeared. 
     Of course, he hadn’t really disappeared, and Jay couldn’t hold back a little yelp as Cole reached down to pick him up off the mattress, holding him in hands nearly as large as he was. With as often as they used this tea, you’d really think he’d be used to being picked up by now, but the feeling of vertigo never really went away. Still, he was anything but scared as Cole lifted him to his face.
     “Well look at that! And here I was thinking you couldn’t get any shorter.” Cole laughed, poking Jay in the chest with a finger that was promptly swatted away. 
     “Oh ha ha, you’re a real comedian bolder brain.” Jay shot back without missing a beat. “How long did it take you to come up with that one, a whole five seconds?”
     “Six actually!”
     Jay sighed, rolling his eyes as Cole grinned at him. Why he’d chosen such an annoying best friend was beyond him, but then again you don’t really choose best friends do you. They kinda just show up and you end up stuck with them whether you like it or not. For what it was worth, Jay really was rather fond of Cole. He’d rather die than admit that of course, but it was true. 
     Realizing Cole hadn’t moved in a few seconds and was just sort of staring at him, Jay decided to take matters into his own hands. He leaned forwards, planting his hands on Cole’s bottom lip. “Alright are you just gonna keep looking or am I actually going to get the room I requested.” The night air wasn’t cold, but it was chilly and in the wake of his unsettling dreams the air felt icy to Jay.
     Cole didn’t even bother trying to respond. The moment Jay seemed to be leaning his full weight on his lip Cole opened his mouth and nudged him forward, sending the lightning ninja tumbling in with a shriek and landing face first on his tongue. Jay spluttered indignantly. The change in temperature was incredible compared to the cold still encasing his hips and legs, and the tongue under him so soft and yielding he might have fallen asleep instantly had he not been so mad. However Jay was more than used to those things and they could stand to be ignored in favor of yelling at his best friend for shoving him face first into a puddle of spit. 
     “Gross Cole!” Jay whined, propping himself up on his elbows while his legs flailed outside. “You could have warned me first!” Yes, he had asked for this, but he still liked being difficult to get down on principle. Not that Cole ever seemed to choke around him the way Kai or Lloyd would, and Zane didn’t count because he didn’t have a gag reflex, but still. Course, he always went down easy for Nya, but that was because she was the love of his life and therefor shouldn’t count either. Cole, unrepentant for his actions, responded to Jay’s protests by promptly licking him full up the torso, dousing him instantly in buckets of saliva. Jay spluttered but knew better than to open his mouth now.
     Never one to play with his food for long, Cole quickly slurped Jay’s legs up while simultaneously starting to swallow his torso, a sensation Jay really would never get used to. Being swallowed felt a lot like being squeezed out of a toothpaste tube, if a toothpaste tube was alive and warm and full of slime that is. His legs quickly followed the rest of him down Cole’s throat, and as a series of soft swallows pushed him deeper, he couldn’t help but relax completely. Somehow Cole just felt so…safe. Safer than the bounty ever had, and somehow even safer than the rest of his brothers. Sure he loved them all with his whole heart, but Cole was like a living fortress. An immovable mountain of earth and muscle with the softest heart who could protect them all against anything. 
    After one final swallow Jay slipped down into Cole’s stomach, surprised to find it was nearly empty. When it came to Cole his stomach almost always was full of something, but as Jay stretched and made himself comfortable, he decided it was the middle of the night and dinner didn’t tend to stick around as long as he did. Flopped over in a shallow puddle of chyme Jay felt himself fading fast, his lack of sleep finally catching up with him as Cole’s stomach kneaded and churned around him. One of the walls suddenly pushed in more than the others and Jay found himself momentarily pinned as Cole felt around for him. Not that he minded, he rather enjoyed being squished. 
     “Comfy in there sparky?”
     “Yeah, thanks dirtclod.” Jay yawned, burying his face in the walls as he drifted off to sleep. “Wake me before everyone else so I can dry off alright? I don’t want Wu to yell at me for leaving puddles in the hall again.” 
     Cole laughed, his soft voice buzzing through the walls. “No promises bluebird. Just get some sleep alright? I’ll see you in the morning.”
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