#drabble fic

[vamp-stamp-fics]

Jet hates his face. He can't stand to look at it. He always looks away from mirrors when he's in the bathroom or ignores his reflection completely whenever he walks past water.

He doesn't believe he's ugly, no far from it. Jet knows he's not from the way girls smile shyly whenever he talks to them. The way they giggle with flustered faces whenever they're in his presence. Smellerbee always rolls her eyes whenever he indulges a little in flirting with girls whenever they pass in a town.

No, Jet hates his face because he looks just like his mother.

His beautiful, caring mother. The one that would always kiss him goodnight after telling him stories of spirits or star-crossed lovers. She was a hopeless romantic jet remembers that. His mother who would coddle him and rock her in his lap after he came home crying, another one of the village boys picking on him for how small he was. Jet used to be quite scrawny and weak if his freedom fighters could believe that.

His mother, the one that protected him from the seething hot flames the best she could the day the fire nation came to their village. while his father did his best to hold the soldiers off. And when he failed to do so, held jet tight to her as she told him to run as far as he could and to never look back. Even promising him she'd be right behind him.

He didn't keep the promise of not looking back as Jet heard the wailing screams of his mother dying. Tears blurring his view of her as the last thing he saw of her was her eyes. Only to see her killer on a Komodo Rhino in front of him with a hatred he'd never seen before.

So now jet covers mirrors. And if he can't do that, he breaks them. Letting the glass shatter as his fist covers in blood. Not only does jet hate that he looks like his mother, but he has the same hatred in his eyes as her killer. Hatred for the fire nation and what it did to him, to his own people and others.

And the thought of the only reminisce jet has left of his mother being tarnished by seeing her face with hatred in her eyes, would kill him sooner than what was to become of him in ba sing se.

#felt like making an angsty drabble about jet sorry yall 😐 #drabble #drabble fic #jet #jet atla #jet avatar #atla #atla fanfic #atla fic #netflix avatar #netflix atla #netflix avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender #avatar: tla #fic drabble #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics #smellerbee #longshot #longshot atla #atla zuko #atla toph #atla aang #katara atla #atla sokka #jet x reader #jetko #jetara

[kleem-o]

Choose me her : Gojo x reader

a/n: ok i keep seeing gojo (basically jjk) everywhere and i noticed i haven't written any angst yet so here y'all go <;33

"oh come on Y/N, you're being ridiculous!!"

Were you though? Was it so wrong for you to feel jealous, upset, betrayed when his "girl best friend" was all over him? And he let her be? It has always been like this, way before you and Gojo started dating, he was already "close" with the woman you wished to be would go away. You tried so hard to stop the disgusting green envy, the feeling of your heart dropping to your stomach, the feeling of starless lonely nights. But you just can't. Several times Gojo would tell you it was nothing, several times he said he would always choose you over her. Why should he have to choose in the first place? Why was she an option? You finally had enough earlier this day when you saw her all over your man, hugging his chest while laughing at some stupid joke your boyfriend made, at a little get together you, Gojo, and some of his friends had. You always felt left out. As if you were just some bystander, watching him have the time of his life, without you. But you fought, you fought hard. You tried so many times to get along with everyone, to get along with her. And many times you failed. It was as if there was some barrier you couldn't cross, a special bond that "best friends" had. When you and Gojo finally arrived at your little apartment, you decided to confront him about it.

"Is it so hard to just tell her to know her boundaries- our boundaries?! You know damn well what you and her are doing!"

"What the hell are you talking about?? She's my best friend of course we're close, look baby I know you think there's something more, but there really isn't! You're just overthinkin-"

"Don't you dare Gojo Satoru... Don't turn this on me! Stop acting like I'm the crazy one when you guys are borderline cheating!!" Your vision was starting to blur with tears, years of frustration finally coming out. You felt small, a small voice in your head questioning you was this really something worth fighting about, what if you really are overreacting? But an even bigger voice tells you that enough is enough.

"Okay look, you're just tired okay? We can talk about this tomorro-"

"I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS TOMORROW, WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS NOW!! I spent YEARS putting up with this Satoru, YEARS!! And you can't even spend a bit of your time to talk about this right now!??"

"Look this isn't getting us anywhere, we're both tired. I'll listen to you tomorrow, let's just" you flinched away from his touch when he tried to pull you to go to the bedroom. He looked shock, only proving that he didn't know how hurt you were, how small you felt, how unimportant you felt. "Do you like her?" You were now crying, your voice shaking, though you try your best to hide how weak you felt right now, you tried your best to preserve what little pride you had. "What the fuck?? How many times do I have to tell you I DON'T. She's just a friend!"

"You're always with her!! And the way she's literally all over you??"

"That's how we've always been! Y/N, I knew her way before I knew you-"

"So what??? That gives her a pass to act like your girlfriend??"

"She's not acting like my girlfriend, god Y/N, we've been together for years, you still don't trust me??"

"Stop gaslighting me!!"

"I'M NOT!! I'm literally just telling you, this. is. insane. We've been through this a million fucking times, and maybe if you just listened, and trusted me, this fight wouldn't happen."

Your eyes widened as you couldn't believe what you were hearing. This is crazy. Every moment that goes by feels like daggers to your heart, every breath you take feels sharp, it feels like you could fall anytime now. "Is it that hard to just listen to me? Is it that hard to respect me?" You wiped the tears falling on your cheeks, you refuse to let him see you like this, you refused to bow, just like how you were doing all these time. Gojo brought his hand to his face as he let out a frustrated sigh.

"You're the one not listening. How am I supposed to avoid her when she's one of my best friends?? Aren't you asking for too much? I love you but I can't be friends with anyone else? Isn't this too much?"

"Friends don't act like that. I bet if someone was acting like that to me, you'd be upset too, but noo I wouldn't dare try to hurt you the way you hurt me." You were starting to shake with frustration? Anger? As your tears continued to fall. He took your arm to try and hug you "Come on Y/N, we can talk about this in the morning"

"friends don't act like that, why don't you choose her as your girlfriend instead"

"Yeah, WELL MAYBE I WOULD'VE BEEN BETTER OFF WITH HER THAN YOU"

Gojo shouted as his patience ran out, feeling nothing but frustration, why couldn't you get it? He loved you not her. Did you not trust him? But just as quickly as those words left his mouth, he realized how contradicting it was. Gojo felt nauseous as panic made his heart feel like it was running a marathon. Regret was evident in his eyes, while resolution was evident in yours. You had enough. The room was silent for what felt like an eternity, none of you moved, it felt like something was gonna swallow you both whole if you moved, like nothing could ever fix the damage done. You felt empty, relieved in a weird way, now you know how he really felt. The relief of your paranoia being justified outweighed the pain of being disregarded. But Gojo was the complete opposite, he's so scared. He couldn't lose you, he really did love you, so so much. He knew he fucked up but he'd do anything to fix it, he'd even stop talking to his girl best friend, even block any girl for you. He had to fix this. "Baby-"Just as he was about to reach out to you, you quickly left the apartment. Just like that. No words, no goodbyes, just shattered feelings but a head held high, you refuse to be stepped on any longer.

As you exited the apartment, Gojo was left all alone, and the apartment filled with loving memories of you and him felt suffocating. And maybe, for the first time in a poetic fucked up way, he knew how you felt, small.

Part 2 here

a/n: could y'all tell this was a bit from experience? lol

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk anime #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #jjk angst #angst #drabble fic #drabbles #gojo drabbles #gojo imagine #x reader

[honestsycrets]

Miguel does the latine mom thing where they put their lips to your forehead to check if you have a fever or not

❛ sy | drabble below. yeah, he's totally not murmuring sana, sana colita de rana. mention of chronic illness, sickness.

Miguel woke from his short-lived nap with a start, his heart strumming, constricting his breath in his chest. His sheets were laden with sweat, crumpled up over his body. Not from his preferred night of your body against his, fingers laced together, his name beating off your lips.

You slept last night. Longer than you had before, longer than you usually did. He forgot-- sometimes, the delicate nature of your existence. Your tomorrow would be better.

"Miggy, her internal temp--"

Shh, cállate. Miguel hisses over his shoulder. She would wake you up. Lyla's eyes pop wide behind her love-tinted glasses. The gentle rise and drop of your chest doesn't go unnoticed. He settles his broad forearm down, minding the splay of your hair, pulling himself free. The pads of his fingers traced your cool skin, slightly sticky to the touch. The fever-- he tests, gliding his full lips over your relaxed forehead in something of a kiss. A test.

Lyla quirked her head.

"...is normal. Por fin." Miguel finishes, settling his head back on the fluffy pillow, his arm migrating to your slight waist, pulling it against his muscular chest. His eyelids finally-- finally drew to a peaceful close. He could finally sleep.

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara drabble #atsv imagine #atsv imagines #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #drabble fic #across the spiderverse imagines #across the spiderverse drabble

[abbonation]

Oh hey

Just thinking about how different young Joel and old Joel would fuck. Like say you somehow both survive and meet again down the line, the first thing you notice is how dark his eyes are now. Gone are the honeyed irises you once knew.

And how he treats you during sex? What was once, “Jesus baby, you’re takin’ it so good f’me,” while his hands glide up and down your hips;

Is now, “You lay there and take it, y’here me? Just be nice and don’t move.” And his callused palms reach under you to sharply pinch at your nipples, rubbing down your belly to your clit.

Where he used to enjoy getting his cock sucked, live for it, even- he now wanted, no needed, to lick you, please you. He’d spend all the spare time he had trying to wedge a finger between your labia, flicking that thick finger over your hole and fucking you as he licks over your clit.

Of course, as you dig deep and find Joel again down under all those layers, he comes back around. Thaws out. And he finds joy in things like getting head again, in feeling pleasure just because it’s nice- not to cover the pain and end his suffering for even just a few minutes.

You lay him down on his bed in his house in Jackson, and take your time- because you can. You ghost over his dark red tip with the end of your tongue, down the deep brown of his length and over his heavy balls. He groans for you, Jesus baby, and it’s been far too long since you heard that utterance from him. With a twist of your fist he’s spilling into the back of your throat, humping into your mouth just like before. But you can’t seem to be mad that it’s now.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #Joel miller x reader smut #Joel miller Drabble #Drabble fic

[kipsels]

Curiosity Killed the Cat

Dan Heng x Stelle

-

“Can I touch them?”

Dan Heng blinks, his head slowly turning to peer over his shoulder. Stelle stares at him from across the room, her tawny eyes directed to the top of his head.

Of course. Only Stelle could ask a question like that so guilessly. No comprehension of social faux pas or the idea of personal space. 

He knows exactly what she’s asking, and yet some part of him wants to push a few buttons, pull a few strings. 

“Touch what?” He needles.

It’s her turn to blink, and her focus finally breaks so that she’s actually looking at his face and not up at his new appendages. 

“Your horns,” She gestures up towards them with a sweep of her arm, “Can I touch them?”

His first instinct is to tell her no. 

It’s an invasion of his privacy, something that he has always worked so diligently to protect. But Dan Heng knows her request does not come from a place of malicious intent. Like everything else she has faced, Stelle was trying to understand things in her own way. 

He sees the way her lips purse as her eyes flit back and forth, taking in the markings beneath his eyes, the pointed tips of his ears. She doesn’t look wary of him, but there’s something in the way she holds herself that tells him she’s still coming to terms with this new reality. 

Still the same, and yet so different.

“Fine.”

She smiles, and Dan Heng ignores the way it makes the weight in his chest feel just a little lighter. 

His horns are not free of sensation, though it’s not quite the same as the feeling of someone touching his skin. The pressure is there, but it’s indistinct- he can feel her fingers tracing along their shape, but he does not know where she starts to where she ends. 

Instead, he focuses on the warmth. The warmth of her hands as they explore with childlike wonder, the warmth of her body as she takes another step in. The warmth that brings a pink flush to her cheeks, that turns the air between them humid as her mouth falls open, her breath fanning over the skin of his neck. 

He’s so distracted he almost misses her words.

“It’s so strange… It feels like I’m touching something wet, but not?” She tries to explain, and she pulls one hand back to look down at her dry palm. “It’s like your horns are made of solid water, but they’re warm instead of cold.”

Dan Heng huffs at her statement. She’s been spending too much time with March.

“Not what you were expecting?” He asks. 

“I was expecting you to tell me to piss off, so I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

“I almost did tell you to piss off.”

“Well,” She returns his gaze, and the world seems to fall quiet around them, “I’m glad you didn’t.”

Dan Heng feels the words at the tip of his tongue, wants to plead with her, I’m still me, I’m still Dan Heng, when he feels it–

The fingers she kept on his left horn suddenly squeeze tight, and fire licks down his spine, straightening his posture and forcing his teeth to grit.

“Oh! Did that hurt? You’ve gone all flushed–” Stelle tears her hand away in shock. 

His pale complexion turns plum as Stelle apologises profusely, embarrassment mixing with the burning sensation low in his gut.

“I-it’s fine, you didn’t know,” Dan Heng doesn’t think to correct her, too shocked because he’d had no idea either. 

Oh, this was bad news. Bad bad news. 

“Your eyes are glowing.”

Fuck. 

“Maybe I should–” She gestures towards the door. 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” 

“Okay.” Stelle backs away, and Dan Heng’s heart races as he notices her own face bloom red, “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Stelle doesn’t turn away until she slips through the door, and Dan Heng is certain he hasn’t taken a single breath until it closes behind her. 

In the silence that follows, Dan Heng raises quivering hands up to his horns, fingers cautiously tracing over their smooth, branching forms. He swallows heavily before he gives them a squeeze, morbid curiosity getting the better of him. 

Nothing. No heat, no…pleasure. Nothing. 

With a grimace, Dan Heng decides to take a leaf out of Stelle’s book as he plays dumb and blames it on the stellaron. It's easier than facing the truth.

He's always been pretty good at running away from his problems, anyway.

-Fin-

#drabble fic #danstelle #dan heng #hsr dan heng #stelle #hsr stelle #hsr #honkai star rail #cross posted onto twitter

[morinuu]

so what if kyouya doesn't like you? so what if he looks at your commoner clothes with absolute disgust? so what if he calls you 'the second honour student' when referring to you in the third person, not even bothering to call you by name?

so what if he glares his unbelievably hot eyes at you and clicks his tongue in annoyance the moment he enters the classroom every day and sees you?

so what if he turns down your requests for his services, claiming he 'doesn't want you going into debt' when you both know that's a huge, fat lie?

he doesn't care for commoners. not one bit.

"he avoids you like the plague, are you sure you want to do this?" your friend's voice echoes in your head and you wish for nothing more than to tell her to shut up. you know haruhi just wants to help you, you know the last thing she wants is for you to embarrass yourself, but you're desperate.

your sweaty hand grabs the handle of the pink door and forcefully opens the entry to the club, which is unusually empty. but you knew this beforehand.

you knew it would be empty, nobody would be there - save kyouya. the dark prince.

the man you can't resist.

the same one who enters your dreams to firstly kiss you goodnight, and then to also fuck you silly in the host club's changing rooms.

not that you've ever been in them - you've never had the chance to stay in the club for more than 10 minutes, since you're inevitably kicked out from your lack of funds - you just imagine based on haruhi's description.

"miss l/n? our club is closed for the rest of the day. please return to your previous engagement." he warns in that strict voice of his, not even bothering to talk to your face. no 'hello, are you lost?' or 'can i help you?' uttered, like with other girls.

he feeds you nothing. he kicks you out yet again.

"actually, i'm here for-"

"goodbye, miss l/n." he walks to you and stands over you, putting his hands on your shoulders to slightly push you just a step back and shuts the doors closed.

he was rude. he didn't even give you a chance to speak. he broke etiquette.

anyone else would see this as simple, flat rejection. but you? no.

so what if he doesn't like you? he just touched your shoulders, didn't he?

#ohshc #ohshc x reader #ohshc kyoya #kyouya #kyouya ootori #kyoya ootori #ohshc fanfic #ohshc imagines #i want him so bad #ohshc headcanons #drabble #drabble fic

[f1-birb]

100% inspired by the tags @nyoomfruits left on my post comparing Oscar's lando.jpg debut to the newest pic of him

Lando takes a lot of photos.

A lot.

The ones he wants to delete are easier, occasionally he's a little hasty and he has to dig them out of the recycling bin, but for the most part they're obvious to him. Too dark, too blurry, too artsy, not artsy enough, a fingertip obscuring a corner of the picture. They're easy.

It's hard to choose the ones he wants to keep to himself, to have and hold close, to be selfish with. It's a lot harder to choose the ones he wants to post, to release into the public eye, to put under scrutiny.

Then there are the photos like this one.

He wouldn't say it's one of his best, it may not even make his top ten, but it's easily one of his favourites. Simple, soft, something so obvious and blatant and yet unspoken.

Lando brushes his thumb across the screen, feels the way the corners of his mouth tick up like a mirror image, knows if anyone was to look at him they'd see the same softness in his eyes that sits behind Oscar's in the photo.

He remembers taking it, walking to the back of the garages and snapping photos, the lights, the boards, the wall of headphones. He remembers following after Oscar, calling his name just loudly enough to get his attention.

And then Oscar had turned. He'd turned, all flushed cheeks and warm eyes, a look more and more common since they became teammates and Lando's heart says, "Oh."

Because Oscar looks at him like that a lot, he realises. That's Oscar's default now. He's taken back to the first - and only - time Oscar has featured on lando.jpg, how the pose was stiffer, less comfortable, more telling of a brand new partnership. This look? It couldn't be more opposite and Lando's heart again says, "Oh."

He adds it to his newest post without even thinking, swipes across filters, something about the black and white screaming something without words. Then he puts it first, for everyone to see, to profess what he now knows and hopes he'll receive in return if he can bring himself to ask for it.

He hits post, watches as the circle completes itself to upload it, and he smiles at the photo he wants everyone to see, even if they don't see what he does.

#drabble fic #landoscar #lando/oscar #the pic wouldn't leave me alone #(and yes i edited the pic a little bit it needed to have more pining) #birb writes

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Eleven: Spencer Reid + Humiliation

The shirts that you wore to work were always work appropriate. Nothing show off to much skin, or anyting that would make anyone stare at you for too long.

Yet the idea of breaking a few rules to see how your boyfriend would react had you pushing away the work appropraite shirts, and skirts. Instead looking for something shorter, and more revealing.

A shirt that you wore to dinner with Reid that was one of your favorite. You slipped on, and grabbed a shorter black skirt. You aren't sure where the idea for teasing Specner came from it was just there.

Maybe it was the sexy dream, or the naughty thought you had of him when you were both at work. Sure you guys haven't been together for a long time, but you just wanted to see how he would react.

You slipped into work, earlier then anyone else. Putting your things away at your desk, and getting on with paper work. Reid was normally the second to be at work after you. Hotch already having made it to work. "Hey honey." Reid whispered into your ear. The rest of the team not yet knowing that you two were dating.

I nuzzled into him, as he kissed the cusp of your ear. When you turned around to catch his eye, they were huge and staring right down at your cleavage. All on the view for anyone to see. He swallowed hard, "Y/n, is that um… this is… you look good today." Reid mouth not really working.

You winked, and "Oh thank you sweetie." Then got back to work. You could feel Reid staring at you for a little bit longer. Then he was gone, and at his desk.

Your team members came in a constant flow. JJ, Emily, Garcia, Rossi, and Derek. You caught everyone attention. JJ, Emily, and Garcia surrounding you at your desk. "You got a hot date after work?" Emily asked. You rolled your eyes, "Oh I know… she's trying to make someone jealous." JJ whispered. Your cheeks went hot with embrassement. "Lookin' good Y/n." Derek said as he passed. All three looked at me.

"Derek?" All questioned, but I could feel the heat radiating off of Reid. "We've got a case, met in the conference room in ten." The girls and I continued to talk, but the sound of heavy steps and growling from being me caught my attention.

"Reid? Is everythign alright?" I asked innocently, his jaw sharp and warning eyes. "Yup, everything is just fine." "What's up with him?Emily asked as we all watched him walk towards the conference room.

From that point on the four of you walk towards the conference room. You always sat next to Reid, but today you deciced that you would rather sit across from him. Derek was next to Reid, Rossi next to Derek, Hotch next Rossi, Hotch was next to me. JJ was on the other side of me, Garcia sat next to her, and Emily was to the other side of Reid.

I stared willingfully at Reid the entire time. Shifting myself every so often so that my breasts would bluge out of the restricting fabric catching the staring eye of Reid. And as he tried desperatly to not look at me directly. I played footies with him underneath the table.

My heels slipping off my stocking covered feet, and up his slack covered legs. The further my feets inched up his thighs the harder his face got to covering up the hot blush that hit his cheeks all at once.

The further i went up his thigh, the tighter the fabric of his slacks got. The direct eye contact was hard to keep when Reid kept looking down in his lap. His hands shifted down under the table. "Are you alright Specner?" Hotch asked from next to me. I didn't stop not even has his eyes begged me to. "Yeah he is looking at flush, are you sick?" I asked. His hand landed on my ankle squeezzing tightly.

Clearing his thoart, "Yeah I'm fine just a little hot in here is all." He muttered, Garcia was almost done anyways. "Okay, just. Y/n do you mind checking him out before we get ready to leave." "No probelm Hotch." I said sweetly. Garcia was done in a matter of moments, and stocking covered feet were back in their heels.

I waited for everyone to exist the conference room. "Are you feeling alright?" I asked sweetly, walking over to his seat. "Oh, don't even start with that shit honey. You knew exactly what you were doing. Getting me all rallied up in front of everyone else with that fucking shirt, and your sweet little movement." He said in a hushed voice.

"What are you gonna do about it baby?" You hushed back to him. "You'll have to wait for that later." He said tapping your ass as he got up and existed the conference room.

Completed on: 07/01/23

Posted on: 10/11/23

Kinktober 23- @lanad3lreyscokewhor3 @homelanderscumdump @hummusxx@chvnsdimple @vvitzvafflezvv @lokisivy @claud-blood0703 @iliketoreads-stuff @all-that-glitters-is-treasure@clearscissorsbonkgiant-blog @lxonix--ac @piecesofx @mortallyswimmingpainter @playwithfire99 @fucak @everythingneytiri @lovetheos @xxxxxoseungxoooo @durazopato @hotpead42069 @oddseabiscuit @capoda @witching-hour @viviwows @lover103 @alexlovesfiction @katiecat10 @electricfans @jianasmind @max-505 @powerbun21o @the-horny-simp @missy420-0 @jaq-dav @arescosplays

Criminal Minds Master List // Kinkotber '23

#fluff #fem reader #female reader #requests are open #open requests #requests open #criminal minds headcanons #criminal minds reid #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #criminal minds smut #smut smut smut #smut drabble #drabble fic #drabble #criminal minds drabble #reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid imagine

[big-boah-2]

He'd wear 38"x32" Levi's, the dark blue 514 ones. White tees and flannel and work boots. He'd work in construction or park rangering or something, and when he comes home at the end of the day, and you hug him, your fingertips barely touch behind his back. It's those kind of hugs where you do a squish and you can feel like soft yet firm comfort between your arms. Warmth. He would grumble about how he stinks and needs a shower, but he always smells good for some reason. Like him and the outdoors, balanced perfectly. And once you've held him long enough, he kisses your forehead and tells you how much he appreciates everything you do, even though he's out there doing hard labor. You'd kiss him back, savoring the feeling of his full lips between yours, then you'd shower together. Just like every night, you enjoy a damn good meal and dessert, doing whatever makes you happy and relaxed after, until you both hit the hay that night. Because he's just a good, honest, hard-working guy. And you're an amazing, beautiful, and caring companion.

#rdr2 #rdr2 imagines #is this x reader? #yeah #arthur morgan x reader #minific #red dead redemption 2 #red dead #rdr2 posting #big boah arthur morgan #arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur #gn!reader #writing #idk where this came from #chubby arthur morgan #rdr2 modern au #rdr2 drabble #drabble fic

[taste-of-the-divine]

short comfort fic: reader(m/f/enby) x hades | fluff, morning cuddles, sleepy kisses

Scene: You wake up to him watching you sleep under his covers, but it turns out something is on Zagreus's mind.

No Spoilers (because I haven't finished the game yet lmfao)

For a place in the depths of hell, it's sort of ridiculous to wake up to streaming light. But you do anyway, stirring in the warmth of silk sheets as your eyes crack open to see dimly lit candles placed in the crooks and crannies of the room.

"Morning, sleepyhead," a gravelly voice whispers from behind you. You turn over to see Zagreus' elbows on a pillow as he shifts his weight to accommodate your new position facing him. He holds his chin in the palm of one hand, head tilted to the side as a strand of black hovers on his eyebrow. The trademark curl of his lips linger, but through your sleepy haze it takes a moment before you register that it's somewhat of a frown. "Zagreus?" you call tentatively, voice soft. "Something wrong?"

His shoulders stiffen slightly, eyes drifting to the space on the bed between the two of you. His hand free hand reaches for your fingertips, holding onto just two and running his thumb along your skin.

"Nothing much, don't worry yourself," he offers, giving a kiss to the back of your hand to satiate you. But to his dismay, you press on, shifting to your elbows so that your faces are closer.

His eyes looked wearier than usual, like he hadn't gotten much sleep. You kiss him lightly on the cheek and he lets out a sigh. The tension in his shoulders faded a little, too.

"If you won't tell me, I'll worry more," you whisper into his ear before pulling back and looking at him. He cups your face with his hand, brushing a thumb over your cheekbones before returning his own kiss to the warmth of your forehead. He's silent for a few heartbeats.

Then, he says softly, "What if you wanted to leave?"

Your face scrunches in confusion. "What do you mean? Like, leave you?"

He's hesitant, his cheek twitching for just a second before answering. "Leave here. You might not want to stay in hell with me forever, right?" Zagreus throws his head back in a scoff, before he looks down to his fingers still holding yours. "Of course you wouldn't."

You watch him sit and squirm in his seat on the bed, anticipating your answer. It takes a moment for the underlying message of his words to click for you, but when they do, you decide it's better to respond to those instead. You reach out to brush the strand of hair on his eyebrow, noticing that his eyes lock onto your parted lips while you're doing so. "I will follow you no matter where you are or where you go, Zagreus," you say. "As long as I can wake up to you like this every morning, I wouldn't want it any differently."

Zagreus's eyes widen for a moment before going soft with a look you've seen a million times. The sort that hitches your breath and makes you remember why you fell in love with him in the first place.

"I love you," he whispers so softly into the flesh of your lips, before grabbing your waist and pulling you into his lap to kiss you until you want to breathe nothing but him.

#hades fic #hades #zagreus fic #zagreus #hades supergiant #fanfic #fanfiction #hades fanfic #zagreus x reader #comfort fic #drabble fic #drabble #zagreus drabble

[undermine-the-instinct]

Title: Across the Ballroom

Part of the Prince!Al Haitham reader poll I did. Witch reader won and is canon, and Noble reader came in last at 7.5%.

Noble | Head advisor | Civilian | Royalty |Librarian | Witch (canon)

Not proofread, I just wanna get this out there.

Wc: 2k Warnings: Talks of arranged marriage(??)

☆ ° ◇ °☆ ° ◇ ° ☆ ° ◇ ° ☆

"Well met. Prince Al Haitham of the Sumerian Kingdom." The prince bowed and you return his greetings, subtly trying to check him out.

You suppose the rumors are true, he really is quite handsome. You've never quite seen such intense eyes, or such an impressive build from a prince who was not a warrior (and thus a meathead). 

He does not seem to be cursed either. There are no marks or outward tellings of a curse or spell, and you wonder if it's just his insanely good looks at play here.

If he is cursed, it's hidden especially well.

You're curious, and he seems intelligent, so you hope to speak to him more as this night goes by. 

Unfortunately, that's not the case.

The other nobles and royals are swarming him, like bees to honey. All high class elite, you cam never hope to breach or approach. Once he finishes talking with one lady another shows up batting her eyelashes, or another prince puts a hand to his shoulder, elbow.

You have enough people in your day to day life touching you and demanding your attention, your time, your skills, so you're not sure how he does it, how he does not shake off their holds or keeps such a stoic face.

He just seems…unbothered. Like they were all blades of grass he couldn't be bothered to sweep away. Like a puppet, he goes through the motions, says the right lines, makes the right gestures and gives the right amount of attention. It's…scary, how he can do that. Shut down everything else off but the necessary, or maybe this really is how he is. Doesn't seem like much of a person, to you. 

But beyond being scary, it's boring. It seems the rumors really have painted him as a dreamboat, when he's really not anything interesting. What a disappointment.

His eyes suddenly cut towards you, like he heard your thoughts. You, out of anyone in the room. And, oh, not so composed then. There is an anger there, in his eyes, and a challenge, and you do not rise to meet it. It does not entice you. You return to your champagne glass, stick to your little corner of the ballroom.

You're going to mind your business, and enjoy your time here. Your father pulled some strings to get you to such a high class ball, so above your station. You're wearing your most expensive outfit and jewelry yet, and the food looks amazing.

You'd have better luck talking to the people here. Making acquaintanceships, and networking, than trying to woo the prince. You're ordinary (no you're not, but you're trying to be), so you doubt you'll catch his eye.

You forget you're a witch (no you're not, you just know some things). You really shouldn't tempt fate.

Because Gods and Stars above, the Crown Prince is walking towards you.

"Your Grace." The room goes silent, and you turn fully to see the crown prince behind you, holding out his arm. Goodness, he's not going to ask…in front of all these people?

"A new song is about to start. May I have this dance?" You'd rather magick a hole in your hand that lets out hornets, but alas. Who are you to deny the crown prince? You take his hand.

He's not wearing gloves. His calluses aren't fully formed, like he doesn't use them for work often, but he has little indents on his index and thumb. They are so imperceptible that you wouldn't have noticed them if you didn't have the same thing, from years of holding a wand, or a quill.

Both of you are silent and stone faced as you take your positions on the dance floor. You suppose you don't make a very pleasant looking pair. There is a sizable clear space around you two that the other dancers leave, and you do not pretend to not notice the stares you are getting. 

"Tell me," he begins, as the music starts, "what brought you here?"

"Me, Your Highness?" You move with him, smooth, graceful. 

"It is the beginning of the social season, Your Highness. It's more strange if I am not here." 

"Forgive me, you don't seem like you very much want to be here." 

"I could say the same for you, Your Highness." You are awarded with a slight, dry chuckle as you move along the dance floor.

"Oh, so you noticed?"

"...I do not mean to be rude, Your Highness." Cats and dragons know that your mother and your father would kill you if you were to get on the bad side of the prince. 

"You are not. To be honest, I grow weary over droll conversation about the same things, over and over. But my Father made me swear to be on my best behavior. So what can I do?"

A chuckle escapes your lips.

"Even at our age, we are still held to the whims of our parents."

"But of course. I adhere to it though."

"Blink twice if you're being held hostage, Your Highness." He looks at you, and you think your joke was not very well received, until he very obviously blinks twice. You chuckle.

Okay, this is going good. Much better than you thought you would have, when his eyes cut across the room.

Almost like he was searching for something, a lifejacket to hold onto.

"Pardon me, Your Highness, for this question but…why did you approach me for a dance?"

"Hm? Because I wished to. Nothing more or less." And put all this pressure on you? With the wide space you've been given, the stares, you've never put this much thought into making sure your steps are absolutely perfect. You can't make a fool of yourself here, you will not.

"I've never met you before. We have no history."

"No…?" You draw out the word.

"And yet you don't seem infatuated with me."

A million thoughts flood through your head, and a thousand emotions, but you decide to wait until he clarifies. 

Even if a hot bolt of incredulity (rage) shot through you.

"Haven't you noticed there's mainly women at this ball? They are all hoping to win me over so I could make one of them my wife. Not much different for the other nobles either. 

I've never seen you at none of these events, and I recognize plenty of the people here. You must be here for the same thing as they. Though I don't see you making much of an effort."

You want to scoff, and it's getting incredibly hard to keep being polite."Would you believe me if I said I was not attracted to you, or wished to court you? At all?"

"I'd be highly skeptical, and hopeful. What a relief that would be. Even so, that wouldn't explain why you look so upset to be here."

Was your face that telling? No, you're pretty sure he just has a crazy intuition. 

Alright, how can you say this without being too rude, or look like you're scheming…

"Well, I very much don't appreciate my Father sending me here to try and seduce you, Your Highness." There goes any tact. 

"Oh? Is that what you were sent for?" He sounds like he is just humoring you, and you try not to wince. You hope you aren't digging your own grave. He looks down at you, assessing, and he doesn't look impressed. Your anger flares.

"You don't seem to be doing a very good job. By choice, I presume?"

"Of course. You don't seem very enthused either, with all these suitors being thrown at you. Why add on when I don't even want to?"

He twirls you, away from him. You pivot on your heel and twirl back into his arms.

"No, I don't appreciate it. And I'm feeling desperate, so let's cut the small talk and make a temporary deal."

A what? The sudden topic change sounds so sudden, and gives you whiplash, but…you're bored.

 "Pardon me, Your Highness?"

"You are pardoned. Quickly now, the dance is almost over."

True, the tempo was reaching its crescendo, and then it's end, you nod at the prince.

"Let me hear, before I agree." After the words leave your mouth he pulls you so much closer, and you don't think you misheard the room gasp when he leans closer to whisper in your ear.

"I pretend to entertain you, and be enamored, and you follow suit. That way I won't have to deal with these lovelorn fools and you…"

"And I…?" You try not to sound breathless.

"Have something to report back to your Father." A huff of breath escapes your lips before you catch it, and you shake your head with a smile.

"I thought you were good at negotiations, Your Highness. I don't need to report back to my Father on anything. And I don't think I'd want the attention I'd get, plenty of folks here are already sure to gossip on this, alone." With your hand still in his, you gesture between the two of you. The prince's expression doesn't change.

"I understand your Father is in a bit of a bind, and you are of eligible age and stature, and, forgive me, breeding, for marriage. It's why you were sent to such a high class ball, in the hopes of meeting and wooing me." You purse your lips, not wanting to affirm his thoughts. 

"I'm a capable person. Even if in the worst, absolute case scenario, my family falls into ruin, somehow, I could make a name selling spells and such. I'm talented enough to bring us back to high society"

"Oh, a witch? You seem very confident in your abilities."

"Of course, I'm very capable and I am self taught."

"Tell me witch, am I cursed? Spellcasted, hexed? Or could you curse me to never find love?" Is he joking? His face is set like stone but his voice carries some mirth when you frown at him.

"I couldn't detect anything then or now. And I could curse you, but then my family would really fall into notoriety and we don't need that." He chuckles, so he was joking. 

Good.

"Even just this you could report back, and I'm sure it would do much to delay your Father's attempts to marry you off. I need an appropriate excuse, not exactly a proper one, to escape these suitors. So what say you?" 

The dance is nearly finished now, and you can already see said suitors waiting at the outskirts, waiting for their turn, or to question you. You frown at the prince, having come to a realization.

"Even if I refuse, you have made it so I'll gain some notoriety just from your actions here alone. You've pressured me."

Al Haitham looks at you. And strangely enough, he smiles. Those eyes of his are really…something. The music stops and you both still, but he still doesn't let you go as you look about, as whispers start to rise.

"To make negotiations, preferably in my favor, I need to create a situation where the other party is more inclined to meet my demands." He releases you save one hand, and lowers himself down to kiss it. The room definitely explodes into gasps, and your eyes blow open.

"I'm sure you'll be able to find me if you take up my offer."

You hiss, annoyed. "I'll put a spell on you, prince."

"I don't care. As long as it gets these people away from me," he mutters under his breath, that pleasant smile slipping ever so slightly.

He bows and slowly turns away, as if longing to stay with you.

"Till our next dance, Your Grace. I do hope you bless me with more of your time." And he walks away. You only have a moment to glare and curse him in your mind before a group of ladies descend upon you, hungry for all the gossip.

That swine. 

Tagging @escapeis !!!

#my stuff #my writing #Prince!Al Haitham #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #al haitham #genshin al haitham #reader insert #drabble fic #poll results #Noble!Reader #Witch!reader #Al Haitham x reader #al haitham x reader #genshin alhaitham #al haitham x you #al haitham x y/n #genshin al haitham x reader #genshin imapct

[kleem-o]

Choose me her: Gojo x reader

part 2

a/n: since y'all really like the first one i'll give it to u guys since i love y'all. warning! theres smut here. here's part 1

"I-I can't, I fucking lover her"

Gojo hunches over as he vomits on a nearby bush in the park. "You're pathetic" Nanami sighs frustrated, as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Come on man, you can't keep being like this." Geto says as he pats Gojo's back. It has been weeks since you and Gojo fought, and Gojo did not hear a single word from you. You blocked him on all social media accounts, even Facebook. So what did he do? He drank and drank. He would often call up the boys to go get a drink at a pub, and the few first times Nanami and Geto were okay with it, they were comforting their friend after all, but after the 10nth time, it became ridiculous. "I-ugh I gotta call her." Gojo was a mess. He was loudly crying like a little kid, longing for you. He took out his phone, and upon turning it on it was already at your contact. "Man-tsk! come on stop it!" Geto took the phone away from Gojo, hoping to stop whatever mess he'll make that would make matters worse. He took a glance at Gojo's phone and the sight was..

Wed, June 14 at 9:13 PM Hi baby I'm very very sorry. Please believe me I really didn't mean what I said Y/N. Can you please come home? Can we please talk? I'm sorry baby I really am. I love you.

Wed, June 14 at 10:02 PM Y/N?

Wed, June 14 at 10:25 PM Y/N baby its getting real late now. Where are you? I'll come pick you up. Please answer baby its not safe out. I love you.

Wed, June 14 10:46 PM Y/N please pick up the phone, where are you?? Are you okay?? Please answer babe

Wed, June 15 1:09 AM Hii baby I heard from Shoko you were at your parents' house. Lets talk soon okay? Goodnight. Sweetdreams. I love you.

Before Geto could read more of the endless messages of 'I love yous' and 'I'm sorry' and 'Come home', Gojo snatched his phone back and immediately called you. Of course only for it to be added to the countless missed calls he made. This made the man cry harder as his two friends helplessly watched. "Why don't you just go to her house then?" Nanami pointedly asked. "Obviously I already thought of that! I did and when I went there she wasn't there anymore, so I went to her apartment, but I think she told the landlady not to let me in the building.." Gojo kept his head down, too ashamed at everything that happened. All of this was his fault after all. If he listened to you none of this would have happened. "Okay, look. Drinking to kill your liver isn't helping anyone, you don't even like alcohol! Go talk to her. Stay in front of her building or something! We'll try our best to help you-" "We??" "-yes, WE will help you" Geto looked at Nanami with a furrowed brow, there was no way he was letting Nanami escape. "But for now, lets just go home. You're too wasted to talk to anyone anyway." Nanami says. The two drove Gojo home.

Gojo's apartment was silent, too silent. He misses the way you would greet him when he got home, the way you would kiss him. He misses hugging you from behind as you cook, and he misses how you would bite his arm as he does the dishes. He misses all the silly things, all the things that reminded him of you. As he got to his bed he knew that a killer headache would welcome him in the morning, and you weren't there to cuddle it all away. He thinks of you as he lies down on the cold big, was the bed always this big, bed. He hugs the pillow that you always used, and closed his eyes wishing it was you.

Gojo woke up to the smell of bacons. He blinked then quickly ran to the kitchen "Y/N?!" He was shocked to see not you, but his best friend? What was she doing here? "Oh! You're awake, here I made us breakfast." She says as she sets the bacon down on the table. "Umm.. What are you doing here?" Gojo remained standing away from her as she says "Well I heard that you got crazy wasted last night, so I came here! Not even a thank you??" She giggles but Gojo remained serious as he rubs the back of his neck "Look, Y/N and I got in a fight and- I think we should establish some boundaries." The girl looked at him shocked, like she was offended "Satoru I am your best friend. Who cares what that bitch thinks?? You guys are bound to break up anyway, besides" She went closer to Gojo and hugged his arm "you got me anyway" Gojo's blood ran cold. He was beyond disgusted not just by what she was saying, but by the fact that he never knew how she felt and that you were right. Gojo immediately threw her arm off in anger. He couldn't believe this. He felt betrayed. And oh how he wishes he could turn back time, he really fucked up this time. "What the fuck?? First of all fuck you for calling my girlfriend a bitch. Who the fuck do you think you are?? You think you're special?? Well you're not. Don't even think to compare yourself with Y/N. I don't fucking like you and I don't want to ever see you again" The girl ran out of his apartment crying in embarrassment. Gojo had to talk to you.

He drove fast to your apartment. And as if luck was on his side today, he saw you just about to enter the building. He quickly ran to you, catching your wrist gently. "Wait! Y/N." You looked at him as he tried to catch his breath. "Please, can we talk?"

You led him to your apartment, and as soon as the door closed, he hugged you tightly from behind "Please Y/N- I'm so sorry for everything that happened. It was entirely my fault and you were right, I was being an asshole for not listening to you. I'm sorry I made you feel that way, there's no excuse for what I did. But I promise I'll change, I- I'll never make the same mistakes again! I know this might be a lot but I hope you can give me another chance-" You burst out giggling "Satoru! Wait I- haha! stop! I'm ticklish!!" Gojo was so confused as to why you were laughing but then he realized he was subconsciously rubbing your sides, something that was so natural to the both of you "Oh! I'm sorry baby."

You and Gojo had a long serious talk that day, about how you felt, how sorry he was, and how he'll change for the better. It was a day full of crying, and to your surprise Gojo was crying even more than you, that you had to wipe his tears while he rests his head on your chest like a little puppy. Gojo made it a point for you to tell him everything, all the frustrations you had, and things you wished were better. You both established that communication is key.

"Are we okay now baby?"

"Hmmm.. I don't know... I think you're missing something though.."

"Okay just tell me babe, hm?"

"I didn't get any kisses"

The moment you said that Gojo's heart felt very warm, he felt home. He immediately tackled you on the couch with kisses on your cheek, neck, and lips. Your apartment was now filled with giggles, chuckles, and relief. You both had pizza delivered to your apartment, and after eating dinner you both are cuddled in your bed, him spooning you, arms wrapped around your waist, while you and him watch random tiktok videos on your phone. It was comforting. A few giggles here and there. Your back was against his chest and you shifted a bit to get more comfortable, unbeknownst to you, you rubbed your ass snug against his length.

Gojo noticed this, and now he was super aware of his surroundings. You smelled so good, just freshly out of the shower, you were so soft his hands began rubbing at your sides, up and down getting dangerously low to your ass, and high to your breast. He was getting hard, and subconsciously humping our ass. "I can feel you, you know" Gojo was taken aback, maybe this was too soon after your fight. "Oh sorry I-" He was cut off by your lips on his. He licked your bottom lip, asking for access in which you opened your mouth and deepened the kiss. His tongue caressed yours, as spit began dripping on both of your chins. The make out was getting too heated, and although he was a bit embarrassed by being hard rock just by a kiss, he got on top of you as he started to dry hump you. You felt him smirk in the kiss as he felt your pussy getting wet. He pulled away from the kiss, a line of saliva connecting the both of you "My pretty baby getting so wet for me, so good for me" He removed your top and circled your nipple with his tongue before sucking it gently, rolling it in between his lips. You were mewling and Gojo felt your hips grinding, your pussy hungry for relief. He removed your shorts as he sucked on your nipple, and traced your slit with his fingers, teasing you "Fuck you're so wet baby, such a good slut for me, yeah?" You were now moaning, wanting more of his touch "Ye-Yes please baby I want-I need it please. I missed you."

"I missed you too" Gojo rubbed fast circles on your clit, making your back arch and mouth turn into an "o", Gojo swore you looked like a goddess. He went down on you getting a good look at your pussy, how wet- how delicious it was. He licked up and down your slit, making you squirm so much that he had to hold your legs around his head. He licked your throbbing clit before taking it in and sucking and gently nibbling on it, making you scream in pleasure "Ah-! B-baby, right there-fuck! Feels so good baby!" Gojo kept licking and sucking your clit as his finger entered you. You let out a gasp as you moan when he rubbed your sweet spot, adding another finger in to give you more pleasure. "Baby-'Toru wait! I-I'm close! ah- nng! I'm cumming I'm cumming I'm cummin-!" You arched your back as you spasmed, your orgasm bringing you to heaven as you grind, fucking yourself on his tongue. Gojo felt like cumming seeing you like that, he could tell that his boxer was stained with his precum. He hurriedly removed his clothes, wanting to enter you now. His big cock hit his tummy as he removed his pants, head red and twitching dripping with precum. You spread your legs wider for him, arms reaching out as you say "Daddy please fuck me."

Gojo lost control and had only one thought, he wanted to cum in you. You both gasp as he pushed his cock in your pussy, walls hugging his cock tightly. He thrusted, hips bucking wildly as you moan out in pleasure, eyes rolling at the back of your head while your tongue lolled out your mouth. Gojo felt his cock twitching at the sight of your fucked out face, though he wasn't any better. His eyes were also rolling at the back of his head at the feeling of your wet tight hole. The bed was creaking and hitting the wall with how fast his pace was, but neither of you care. All you and Gojo could think about was each other in this moment. He kissed and sucked on your neck as you grip on his hair, legs locking on his hips. The lewd wet sound of skin slapping made you both feel very hot. "A-aah! D-daddy I'm I- ahh-! Baby p-please" "I know baby I-fuck-I know baby. Cum for me, cum for daddy, yeah?" He slipped his hands between the two of you and began to rub your clit fast. This pushed you over the edge and you came hard. Walls tightening and throbbing, Gojo was close to cumming too as he felt his balls rise. " I'm cumming baby- Fuck! I'm cumming-take it- take it all!" He raised your legs close to your chest, bending you as his cock hardened even more and twitched, letting out ropes of cum in your pussy. Gojo groaned as he came, eyes rolled to the back of his head while he let out breathy moans. He lay on top of you as he finished, both of you trying to catch your breath. He kissed you on the lips as you played with his hair. You both knew you had to clean up, you were both covered in sweat and slick, and so was the bed sheets. But you were both too tired to move, you guys had tomorrow after all right? With this comforting thought you both drift off to sleep, with Gojo's arms wrapped around your waist as he nuzzles your neck, and your hand resting on his hand while the other on his back.

You both slept peacefully, feeling content, complete.

a/n: hope y'all enjoyed i wasn't really planning on doing this but i had fun lol

@porridgesblog @remniriis

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo imagine #x reader #smut #drabble fic #gojo drabbles #drabbles #jjk x you #jjk imagines

[minim236]

🌊okay but i wrote a little thingy where nothing is wrong and paul teaches chani how to swim

#dune #dune part 2 #paul x chani #chani x paul #fluff #so fluffy #nothing is wrong #drabble fic #dune fic #paul atreides #chani kynes

[dianadeadwing]

After the amazing and fun art storm of roudiseweek here’s a sappy courtship Boblin drabble fic I wrote back when I was really in the boblin feels.

Warning for fragmentary sentence construction.

Word count: 2,147

Tw: vague mentions of Bob’s mom’s death / fear of losing loved ones

--

He doesn't tell his Dad. He doesn't want to hear about all the things that could go wrong. All the things that he did wrong. Right now meeting Linda sits like this perfect little crystalline moment in his head. Almost as if he'd watched it in a movie and everything that had happened had just enfolded completely separate from any action Bob could have taken.

Not for the first time Bob thinks about how significant days start the same as any other. It's not like the movies with a sense of overwhelming dread and dramatic dips in the music. The day starts with tooth brushing and burnt coffee and too bright incandescent lighting. It starts feeling normal and just...

--

Once when he was twelve sitting on the bench after school. He remembered thinking that his dad was late. Later than usual. Because he was often late. There was so much going on. Mom in the hospital, and Dad trying to balance that and the restaurant. Sometimes Bob just thought it'd be better if he walked home to make it easier on both of them. But his Dad always showed up eventually, stubbornly, pretending everything was normal.

So he waited.

And waited.

This time until dark.

---

"So Bobby," Linda chirps, her soft fingers trailing along the hair on his arm. And Bob thinks about how no one has really called him that since--

"I--" It comes out his mouth without warning. Stupid. Stupid. "Do you really mean--? Do you really want--" And, God, he wishes he could be confident and assured but this has to be a mistake.

Linda, vibrant, firework, sparkler, Linda can't be looking at him with eyes all lidded and that smile and she can't why would she--

"Want to buy me a drink?" Linda answers in all the confidence he lacks. Her eyes glitter in the dimly lit bar, eyelashes lowered looking at him like he matters at least a little bit. "I definitely, want you to buy me a drink."

And her smile is wow. Wow. Wow. wow.

"Um," He must have been staring for a moment too long. Linda doesn't seem to mind the attention but her friend giggles lightly into her own beverage. "What would you like?"

He's helpless, stupid, starstruck by her.

"Mmm..." Linda pretends to think and there's so much mirth behind her eyes as they meet his own, "Something this big," She moves her hands about a foot apart, winking one eye to make really sure of the distance, "And full of alcohol!"

"Yeah," He says immediately and turns to flag down a waiter. He can't think of a single drink that exists on the planet so he just tells the waiter to keep it coming on him. Linda giggles.

"So Bobby," she starts, and he's too caught up in her to notice the large glittering engagement ring on her finger, "What is it you do for a living?"

And that, that he can answer, so with a big smile, a true honest to god smile he meets her eyes and says, "I cook."

--

And miracle of miracle he sees her again. and again. And again. Every time he thinks this surely must be the end. Someone like her so full of life and laughter must be fed up with someone like him. But she isn't she keeps coming back. She keeps laughing at his dumb jokes. And he tells her about all of the things he hopes for and all of the things he's afraid of and he swears she listens.

--

It hits him one day. They are sitting in a drive in snuggled up close movie theater watching something about robots and Linda hums under her breath while periodically kissing him under his ear before turning away pretending she hadn't done a thing.

He never asks her what she wants out of life. He's talked at length about his own dreams of starting a restaurant. Of making all of these interesting and flavorful burgers. Of washing his own dishes and locking the door with his own key. He's never asked her what she wants. What she dreams about her life looking like. And that's important if they are doing to be-- If they will be-- If all this is to keep going forward.

"Lin," He starts. But Linda is a firework, glittering and explosive so she derails him.

"What, Bobby? Can't focus on the movie?" Linda laughs and her eyes are lit up from from explosion on the screen he definitely hadn't been paying attention to.

"I--" Bring it back, this is important he tells himself, "Linda? What do you want? I mean? In the future? I want my restaurant but what..." He gestures vaguely, "What's your dream."

And Linda just smiles at him big and bright, like he's being a little bit dumb and he probably is, he usually is, but he can't really think of why this time.

"It's not a thing." She says still smiling like she's in on a joke he's not even close to getting, "I just want to be happy."

---

Happy.

He can't remember the last time he was really and truly happy. And then there she is. And he can't help but feel every piece of himself light up every time she so much as looks in his direction. He's working as a grill cook at some random dive to pay the rent and singing at the top of his lungs. So much when he finally quiets down there's actually applause. Wolf whistles.

At the end of his shift a coworker whispers "Must be some girl you've got."

And Bob can't help the sappy smile on his face, "She is."

---

And the first time she stays over at his little studio apartment he spends way too much time cleaning and trying to make everything perfect. He lights candles. He plays music really low and even gets her flowers. He has to make everything perfect. He has to convince her to see past every little glaring flaw and stay with him regardless.

Bob feels selfish and arrogant but he can't help it. He's somehow tricked her into being with him this long if he can just keep it going possibly forever then he never has to go back.

It's funny how before didn't feel so bad but the thought of going back to life before Linda makes him feel like death now. There is no going back. He can't. He knows what it's like to love someone.

---

And of course, she's bright and funny and a million miles ahead of him. The moment she enters his apartment and sees all the silly little candles she blows one out. Makes a little wish under her breath and turns to him with a big smile.

"I love you," She says before he can even say hello.

And instead of being cool and composed and acting like he's been there before he wraps her up in his arms to keep her from seeing how close to crying he is.

"I love you too," He whispers into her shoulder and hopes she can hear him over the sappy jazz he is playing.

---

And he just can't. Every day feels like he's getting closer and closer to the sun. He feels its warmth deeper and deeper in his skin, his bones, his soul. And he can't lose her. He can't.

But he could.

---

"Pop," Bob says. He's picking at a little crusted-on stain on the countertop of his father's diner. He can't look at him for this. He doesn't want to see what's there. He's afraid of it.

"What?" His father responds tersely, "You've been wound up since you got here. Just spit it out."

To his credit, Bob doesn't even bristle at his tone. He's too in his head.

"I want you to meet someone." And it's surprising how easily the words come out of his mouth. It's the truth but it's also. It's something else.

"Oh," His father responds. And it's uncharacteristically silent in the once bustling diner. It's after closing usually there's the sound of dishes hitting together rags on counter tops. But now nothing.

"Linda." And in spite of his own nerves, he looks up to see his father. He thought he'd be embarrassed or ashamed or something but all he is... "I-- she's my girlfriend," He smiles without meaning to, " I care about her a lot."

He didn't know what he expected but the smile on his father's face is big and genuine and not even a little bit bitter.

"I'd love to meet her." He says.

---

And they get along like. Well, people that get along really well. Linda's very good at stuff like that. Walking into a room and making everyone comfortable and at ease.

The first time she meets Big Bob she wraps him up in a hug that leaves little Bob and his father surprised.

"How are you, Big Bob," She says, laughter in her voice acting like old friends, "Hah, love the mustache. I see where Bobby gets his lip wig from."

How can she do that? Enter a room of strangers and be totally at ease? Bob had been so nervous to have Linda meet his father. He'd been so nervous about so many things and then comes Linda showing him that he had nothing to be nervous about after all.

Bob finds himself elated to see the smile lit up on his father's face.

–

Linda gets them drink for drink into the night. There may have been some singing and dancing on tables. He doesn't even notice when his father leaves them to their own devices.

--

"Linda's a great girl." Big Bob says the next morning over coffee.

"I love her," Bob says in return and he hadn't intended to say anything of the sort it just comes spilling out of him unwilling to be unheard.

Neither of them says anything after that. It's just morning sounds of doors opening and garbage trucks. But Bob can see the sad little smile on his father's face.

--

"I was twelve," Bob tells her one night, they are half naked snuggled up in bed together in that sweet place between sleep and wakefulness, "When she died."

"Your mom," Linda says calmly, because she's good at these things but he feels the ways her shoulders square up under his bare fingers.

"Yeah," It squeaks out, "And um, Dad was never the same. I was never..."

Linda props her chin up on his chest and Bob feels himself drawn into her as he always is. Her eyes are always laughing but with something else brewing beneath. "Tell me about her."

And he can't help but laugh. Like, it's so easy. Like it's not daggers. Like it's not a reminder of all he lost.

But still, "She was happy. We were happy." he leaves out and then we weren't.

---

Linda has sort of moved into his apartment. From the moment he met her honestly. She's terrible at keeping track of her things. Something of hers is always lingering around his apartment. At least he assumed she always was forgetting things but maybe she was just always leaving open a reason to come back.

He realizes after what had to have been a least a month that she hasn't left. Every morning she's giggling at him over coffee, wiping leftover food from his mustache kissing his cheeks, nose, and eyebrows before he heads off to work, straightening the collar on his shirt.

Every night he lays in a bed that smells like her. Hears her chattering away in another room or grinning at him while talking on the phone. She's so beautiful it hurts. And he can't go back to before. He absolutely cannot imagine being without her. He doesn't know who he even used to be.

--

It's not a big affair. He wishes he'd thought about it more. Been able to plan things and give her something special. But they are just ending the day together wrapped in each other's arms on the couch. Linda is telling some good-natured story about something that happened at her day job. her whole face lighting up and bearing down in anger at the appropriate moment. And he kisses her before she finishes a sentence.

"Bobby," she snorts undignified and he loves he loves her so much he's shaking with it, "Were you even listening?"

"No." He blurts of and she gives him a half-hearted little slap feigning offense.

"Last time I--"

"Marry me." Bob blurts out. Pulls back, "I mean, will you--"

And she's just laughing so hard there are little tears in her reddened eyes, "Absolutely."

And then Bob can't stop laughing with her.

And it's like hitting rewind on a cassette tape, a VHS. Back to the start, one, two, three. Only this time he hopes for a better ending.

#bob's burgers #boblin #bob belcher #linda belcher #txt #fanfiction #I wrote this in the middle of the night #high and listening to ceilings on repeat #there’s some inconsistencies with canon I think #bobs living arrangements and such #but it’s supposed to be about the vibes #drabble fic

[kipsels]

Peek-A-Boo

Dan Heng x Stelle

Dan Heng was convinced that Stelle was messing with him.

The first time had been in those fraught moments in Scalegorge Waterscape, when relief had sunk in to meet with a maelstrom of other emotions. He’d found himself gathered into three pairs of arms.

March and Stelle, even Mr Yang.

His body had just relaxed when he had felt it. A wayward hand in the centre of his back, meeting his bare skin. Stelle’s fingers curled in towards her palm, catching the lattice of the lotus design on his back between her knuckles. He had flinched against the contact, yet he could feel the way she held on tight, like she was latching on to whatever she could.

Dan Heng had brushed it aside.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Stelle to sling her arm around his neck, or to bump shoulders with him as they walked. She hugged people freely (well, maybe not as freely as March, but she was certainly up there on the physical affection scale).

But then it continued.

Whenever Stelle caught him in his high elder garb, it was like her fingers sought out whatever strip of flesh she could find. Pressed against his spine, tracing along his naked shoulder. Poking the tips of his pointed ears just to make them wiggle and flick in response.

He tried to accept her curiosity. It was understandable, really, and while he preferred to keep his personal space to himself, he gave everyone a little leeway as they navigated this new normal. He’d even let her touch his horns when she’d asked.

But now, now he was certain that she was just teasing him.

Taunting him.

Because right now, her hand was pressed to the centre of his chest, palm flat and fingers flexed wide enough to burrow beneath the edges of silk.

The tip of her middle finger finds the divot between his collarbones, lightly pressing down and he almost can’t take it anymore–

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Huh?”

“Aren’t you cold?” Stelle repeats, as if she takes his stupor for deaf ears. “You’re Vidyadhara.”

And now she’s pointing out the obvious.

“I– What?”

“So aren’t you cold blooded? Since you’re a dragon? Reptilian? How do you manage having so many peek-a-boo holes in your clothes without freezing to death?”

Dan Heng can barely process her words. What was she implying? That all the touching, all the teasing she had ruthlessly inflicted upon him was because she was worried he was cold?

“Oh, I can feel your heart- It’s racing.”

He barely holds himself together when her hand moves, seeking out the planes of his chest, digging beneath silk for more. But something inside of him snaps the moment her nails lightly rake across his skin, sparks of electricity racing through his body, launching him forward.

Between one breath and the next, he pins her to the ground, their fall cushioned by the mess of his bedsheets. Stelle lets out a grunt as she lands, her grey hair framing her face like a feathery halo. His heart patters away inside the confines of his chest, and he doesn’t know where to look. Where not to look.

Because she looks so pretty beneath him.

“...Dan Heng?” Stelle’s eyes are wide as she stares up at him, her lips softly parted.

He can’t help but follow the slow creep of her blush as it travels from the apples of her cheeks to her chin, down the gentle slope of her neck.

“Dan Heng?”

This close and he can smell her sweet scent, how it lightly perfumes the air between them.

It calls to him, because she smells like home. He wants to bury himself in that scent until it covers his own skin, wants to cover her in his scent too.

He wants to make sure that the lingering scents of March and Welt and Himeko and Jing Yuan are gone, gonegonegone.

“Dan Heng, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomf–”

“Shut up.”

He ducks his head, closing the distance between them until her lips are against his and he gets his first taste of her.

He feels the rush of air against him as she gasps in surprise, and he uses the weakness in her defences to devour her.

His tongue curls around hers, savouring her sweet flavour. Drinks it all in as he smothers her soft little whimpers with a passion he did not know he possessed.

Something inside of him begs for more, wants him to take and take when she turns supple and pliant beneath him. But the rational part of him pulls back, letting them both finally breathe.

“Dan Heng?” She asks again, her tawny eyes hazy.

He watches the way her tongue traces her lower lip, flushed and swollen from his kiss. His heart is gripped by unwarranted jealousy when she pulls it between her teeth, teasing the strip of flesh in the same way he wants to tease it.

“Yeah?” He says when he finally finds his voice.

“What was that?”

“I think that’s what people call a kiss.”

“No– I mean… You’re not mad?”

Stelle’s hand reaches up to cup his cheek, pushing lengths of black hair behind his ear. Dan Heng has to stop himself from sinking into her embrace.

“No. Not mad.”

“So you’re… good?”

“Yeah. I’m good. You?”

“I’m good,” She repeats, cheeks pink, “Very good. Great, even.”

He doesn’t fight the smile that curls the corner of his lips.

“Good.”

- Fin -

#drabble fic #danstelle #dan heng #hsr dan heng #stelle #hsr stelle #hsr #honkai star rail #cross posted onto twitter #happy imbibitor lunae day!

[sonsofichor]

The Mark of Wolves - Red Rising fic

Synopsis

All my people sing of are memories. And so I will remember this death. It will burden me as it does not burden my fellow students—I must not let that change. I must not become like them. I’ll remember that every sin, every death, every sacrifice, is for freedom.

But Darrow forgets. He forgets everything. Red, Gold, the mines, the Sons of Ares, his mission, his family, his purpose, his dreams, his past. Eo. So what does Darrow become?

Drabble I: Darrow

He tells me his name is Cassius. Cassius au Bellona.

“Cassius,” I repeat, hoping that at least the taste of his name would bring me some familiarity. It doesn’t.

“Do you remember me?”

I study him—his golden curls, his shining eyes, the cleft in his chin. He’s a boy on the cusp of adulthood, a young man of infinite beauty. He’s not someone you can easily forget. And yet, the sight of him sparks nothing. “Should I?”

He flinches. I didn’t mean to hurt him. You shouldn’t hurt young, beautiful things. He waves away my hesitant apology and calls me Darrow. Darrow au Andromedus. It leaves me indifferent.

I sit cross-legged with my back against the wall. Cassius mirrors my position across from me, and next to him is a slight long-haired boy who’s kept silent until now. He leans forward. “I’m Roque au Fabii,” he says and when that, too, gets nothing from my side, he asks, “What about your family? Your parents? Your home?”

I frown in concentration.

Cassius perks up. “You’re from Yorkton. Your mother’s name was Lexus, I believe.”

I shrug.

"And your father... Your father's name, I mean..." Trailing off, he turns to Roque for help, but all Roque does is shake his head. It’s clear none here knows me all that well.

Roque sighs, “It seems you’ve lost your memories.”

I feel lost.

I woke up surrounded by forgotten faces and with no idea who I am or who I’m supposed to be. Questions tumble through my brain, the next one louder than the one before.

They try to explain the situation succinctly.

It’s our third day at the Institute on Mars,

So, I’m trapped in the savage wilderness, where society has been reduced to young Golds giving in to their primal instincts, and I don't even know what Gold is supposed to mean.

“I do wonder sometimes,” Roque begins after Cassius has recovered, “as to the purpose of all this. How can this be the most efficient method of testing our merit, of making us into beings who can rule the Society?”

“And do you ever come to a conclusion?” Cassius asks.

“They have us here because this valley was humanity before Gold ruled. Fractured. Disunited even in our very own tribe. They want us to go through the process that our forefathers went through. Step by step, this game will evolve to teach us new lessons. Hierarchies within the game will develop. We’ll have Reds, Golds, Coppers.”

“Pinks?” Cassius asks hopefully.

“I … don’t know about Pinks,” Roque says. The idea of a Gold being a Pink offends him. I don’t know enough to form an opinion. “But … the rest is simple. This is a microcosm of the Solar System.”

Roque notices my blank look. “Darrow… do you know what the Society is? The colors?”

I shake my head. “What’s a Pink?”

Roque snorts.

Cassius buries his face in his hands.

…

Roque is finishing his summary of  the Red class when he’s interrupted by two pairs of voices and pounding feet. The girls have returned.

“Has he woken up?” is the first question the shorter girl asks as she steps through the doorway.

The lean, long-limbed girl that follows closely behind her, whistles. “Wow, that looks gorydamn nasty!”

She means the wound on the side of my head—a horizontal, freshly stitched and swollen scar. Nine stitches. Cassius is in the middle of cleaning it with salt water.

I stare at them, suddenly conscious of the fact that I’m wearing nothing but my underwear under the light blanket. Cassius said they’d washed them and hung them to dry in the sun outside.

"What?" asks the lean girl.

"What?" I say.

"What?" she repeats.

Cassius lifts his eyes to heaven. "Great ancestors, spare me."

"He doesn't remember you, Quinn. Or anyone, for that matter." Roque clears his throat. “We believe he suffers from amnesia.”

“Believe?” Cassius gives a harsh laugh. “He doesn’t recall his mother from Jove. It’s a fact, my goodman.”

Quinn gapes. "Nothing?"

"Not a gorydamn truth," Cassius says. I admire how his hands stay steady and gentle despite his heated tone. "We just had to explain to him what the Society is."

Quinn gapes some more.

The short-haired girl brings me a cup of water. “Little sips,” she advises, smiling kindly. She introduces herself as Lea.

“We were deciding who was right to lead us. The discussion quickly devolved into . Titus waited until we had our backs turned.” He nearly growls. “The coward.”

“What happened exactly,” I ask him, “Cassius?” But he remains tight-lipped, the anger obvious in the way he works his jaw. He finishes putting the bandages in place, squeezes the back of my neck and leaves the room. 

We stare after him.

“Did I do something?”

Lea shakes her head. “You should eat your berries, Darrow. You need the energy.” 

After some hesitation, I fall upon them. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.

Quinn takes over. “We were leaving. Titus grabbed the standard and attacked. Caught you—” she points at my temple, the wet spot underneath the bandages, “Right there.”

“I saw it all happen. Titus was aiming for Cassius,” sweet-featured Lea adds, “You saved him, Darrow. You pushed him out of the way, left yourself open. That’s how Titus got you.” She shivers. “Your blood splattered all over us. It was everywhere. We thought you’d died.”

“It was chaos,” Quinn agrees, her gaze faraway. “We fought like hell. Cassius threw himself at Titus with a roar. I grabbed a chair and started swinging at anyone who came close. Got Vixu-something in the chest. He was down for the count after that. Lea did the maddest thing. She hit and bit Titus’s hand until he dropped the banner.” She laughs when Lea blushes. “By then, you’d recovered enough for us to retreat. Roque knew a shortcut through the empty stables. Cassius’d left Titus’s face a gory mess and we covered our retreat.”

“I can’t believe I forgot the standard,” Lea groans, hiding her face in her hands. 

“At least you remembered to grab us some grub instead. I carried that chair out of the gorydamn castle!”

They devolve into giggles.

Roque finishes quietly. “You passed out after a mile. Cassius carried you the rest of the way here. You were unconscious for twenty-seven hours. The rest is history.”

It’s strange how that sentence is true, especially for me. My history boils down to the past hours spent in their company. Anything before that is an empty void.

Cassius walks back in and throws a pile of damp black and gold fatigues on my lap. He seems in an even worse mood than before, although none of his ire is directed at us. “Darrow, get ready, my goodman. Proctor Mars wants a word with you.”

#red rising fic #red rising fanfic #darrow au andromedus #cassius au bellona #lea #roque au fabii #quinn #also known as Cassius's no good very bad time #lea becomes a momma bear #roque is the philosophical nurse #quinn for little sister of the year #darrow's just lost and confused and everyone finds him adorable #red rising #drabble fic #until i've written enough to put them into decent-sized chapters