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#kiss drabbles
tulgeywould · 2 years
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dimitri + kiss for the ask game
Dimitri + Final/Goodbye (bad end)
He was across the battlefield when it happened. Dimitri heard the cry for healers before he turned to see what the commotion was, and what he witnessed made his blood run cold. Nicolas had fallen, blood cascading from their wounds in an endless pool that made him feel sick. He didn't know he had it in him to feel ill at the sight of blood anymore. 
The enemies separating the two were nothing but obstacles in Dimitri's way, his grip on Areadbhar never loosening until he was at Nicolas' fallen body. The healers were too far away, they wouldn't be able to get there in time. Dimitri suddenly wished he knew even an inkling of magic, solely to save his lover right here and now. Nicolas was still conscious, although barely. They stared up at Dimitri's form as he held them in his arms. They were faintly aware of the blood on his armor. Their blood. They had lost so much of it, maybe that was why they were beginning to see spots in their vision. It certainly wasn't normal.
The King of Faerghus had not openly cried since the death of his family, but the sobs that wracked through his shoulders could not be ignored. Nicolas tried to wipe away his tears, to insist it would be okay. Hushed promises that this was only one path, and that this pain was only temporary. It was too real to Dimitri. His partner's ramblings of time fell to deaf ears, and he could only cry as he held them close. The last thing he felt was the brush of their lips on his cheek. A soft kiss, a goodbye as Nicolas went limp in Dimitri's arms. 
In that moment, he felt his heart shatter. Nothing would be able to save him like they had, and everything he had done in this war was for naught. The king was slaughtered, only to bring forth the boar covered in blood.
That was when Byleth set back time, determined to try again.
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laurasimonsdaughter · 4 months
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Picture this: Dragons using their caves to age cheese. Dragon Cheesemakers!!
The dragon coiled his enormous body, completely blocking the entrance of the tunnel that lead to the caves.
“No,” he snarled, smoke pluming from his nose.
The cheesemonger pinched the bridge of her own nose. “Look, I explained this to you at the start,” she tried once more. “I make cheese.”
“Yes,” the agreed, nodding his scaly head.
“Then I bring the cheese here.”
“Yes.”
“Then you store all the cheese in your cave, keeping it at the perfect temperature and humidity.”
“Yes.” He sounded particularly proud of this part.
“And then when the cheese has ripened,” she concluded. “I come to pick the cheese up again.”
A thunderous scowl clouded his maw. “No.”
“But that’s how it works!” she cried in exasperation. “I make the cheese, you store the cheese, I sell the cheese, I make more cheese!” She peered up at him. “You do realise I cannot bring you new cheese until I have sold this cheese.”
The dragon considered this for a moment. “Ah, but what if—” he began. “What if you go and make more cheese. And bring me the cheese. And I put it in my cave, with the rest of the hoard. And then I keep it there forever.”
“No,” she said flatly.
It was remarkable how much a dragon could look like it had just swallowed a lemon.
“You can’t keep cheese forever,” she insisted. “It will spoil and go bad!”
“You said it would get better and better!” the dragon roared indignantly. “And I take good care of them! With the air flow and the humidity and the temperature!”
“And that is great,” she said, trying to smile through her frustration. “But when a cheese is ripe, it’s ripe! Then you should not be kept anymore, it should be eaten.”
The dragon scraped it’s formidable claws against the stony ground and sulked.
“Look…” The cheese mongering business did not tend to require a lot of sweet-talking, but she was making an effort. “I’m sure the cheeses that aged in your cave are the best cheeses people have ever tasted. When they find out how delicious they are they will want us to make loads more. Maybe several caves’ worth!”
The reptilian eyes stared at her with disgruntled, reluctant interest. “Several caves?”
“If we’re lucky! And I could make so much cheese that I could bring you new cheese as soon as I pick up the aged cheese. Your cave would never even be empty!”
This seemed to strike a chord. The dragon lifted his head a little.
“And that would really be much better for the rest of your hoard,” she continued with fresh inspiration. “Because if you leave cheese too long, it might go bad and spoil the cheeses next to it too!”
A nervous ripple went through the beast’s scaly body, but he clearly was not convinced just yet. “But what sort of a hoard is it if I have to give it away,” he complained.
“Well! Cheese is not just any old hoard! It’s a developing creation! And you will have a hoard that is constantly developing too. Constantly changing, but, if we do this right, never shrinking.”
The dragon looked at her solemnly, wavering with uncertainty. Perhaps she shouldn’t hold it against the poor thing, it must be a difficult concept to wrap his head around.
“And I will tell you what,” she said encouragingly. “If business is good, I can start investing in some really good crumbly cheeses. You can keep those in your cave for five whole years!”
“That is quite a long time for humans, is it not?” he said, sounding a little more cheerful.
“Very long. Especially when it comes to cheese. Cheeses that have been aged that long are very expensive.”
In retrospect, she should perhaps have led with that. Gourmand or not, a dragon was still a dragon after all. A glittering, toothy grin appeared on her recalcitrant business partner’s shout and he moved just enough for her to move past him into the mountain.
“Tell me more about this expensive cheese that crumbles.”
She hid a smirk. “If you help me carry some of the current ones out, it would be my pleasure.”
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he’s staring.
in the corner of your eye lies a silhouette, a blur of black hair and sharp facial features. awfully hard not to notice, when he’s standing so close to you — gazing at you so intently. waiting for you to say something.
(resisting the urge to look at him directly is a struggle.)
a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, something giddy and sweet flooding your veins. he’s just standing there. all while you tap at the keys of your laptop, trying to focus on your work. in vain.
because, inevitably, the rubber band of your patience snaps — and you can do nothing but give in to the temptation. feeling him shift from foot to foot, silent as a mouse. you turn your head.
suguru looks meek.
there he stands, tired eyes trailing over your facial features, before falling down to the floor. something about it makes you want to coo — almost like he’s a little flustered. fidgeting with his hands, wringing his long fingers together, so patiently waiting for your attention to fall on him. 
you swear you see the ghost of a pout slip into the curve of his lips. wearing a comfortable sweater, oversized and fluffy, framed by the obsidian of his hair; cascading down his shoulders like a black river. let loose, free to fall as it please, a signature sign that he’s tired.
and as soon as your eyes meet his, a certain something blossoms within the scope of his iris. peeling at the corners, slipping into the amber and cedar, an emotion you can’t quite place. would it be too tacky to call it love?
a giggle slips from your lips, dancing on the tip of your tongue. it’s soft, a little teasing, but who could blame you when he looks so cute? suguru, with his tall stature and broad shoulders, sharp eyes and intimidating presence, staring meekly in your direction. as if too embarrassed to ask for something, curling into himself.
”hey there,” you exhale, something amused laced into the vowels. ”everything okay?”
he averts his gaze. enamored with the smile on your face, the crinkle of your eyes, the melodic lilt of your sweet laughter. like peach blossoms and duvet covers, too soft for him to handle. far too sweet, the mere sight of you, all cozied up on the couch; legs crossed and laptop balanced on your thigh. 
(suguru wishes he could take its place.)
a tilt of your head beckons him to speak, and he can’t help but notice the remnants of something teasing in the gesture. he feels a little out of his element, almost shy, and it’s discomforting — but he’s just so tired. much too plagued by the need to be close to you.
he can live with a little teasing, if it’s you, only if it’s you. 
”what’re you working on?” he asks, delicate, soft voice flowing from his lips like melted honey. there’s a raspy tilt to it, a little scratchy. you smile, gaze drawn towards the screen in front of you.
”nothing much, just some essay. i’m almost finished.” a low sigh, as you lazily scroll through the text. suguru hums. when you look over at him, the smile on your face grows just a tad softer. ”did you need something?”
suguru stills. blinking drowsily, slow and awfully endearing, a flutter of his black lashes. absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of his puffy sleeve. the silence lingers, a contemplation etched onto his features, until he clears his throat — still unable to look at you properly. 
(there’s only one thing he wants. needs. asking for it is just a little bit tough, though.)
patiently waiting, you begin to study his expression. second nature, to tuck his features in between your ribs, smoothe along the contours you’ve come to love so dearly. memorizing every dip and birthmark.
there’s a barely noticeable flush to his cheeks, a crimson smear that starts at his ears and only ever nips along his cheekbones, but it’s enough to let you know that he’s embarrassed. more than enough, seeing as his gaze won’t even land on you, seeing the fatigue beneath his eyes, the crease between his brows. something that sticks to his skin and drags him down. 
he has been a little stressed, lately. more so than usual. and you’ve noticed, of course you have — worriedly waiting for him to approach you, to let you help. winters are never very kind to him. 
he’s gorgeous, though, even like this. especially like this. sleepy, just a little unkempt, in his natural state. bare, somehow. like he just woke up, like the morning sun is kissing up his collarbone and he just made a cute little sleepy noise that you’re going to tease him for over breakfast. like he’s unguarded, at peace, safe in your arms.
it makes your heart soften considerably. crumbling at the corners, a pang of lovesick ache tugging at your fragile heartstrings.
and finally, you speak up. urging him to continue, gently, not wanting to rush him. ”well?” 
suguru gnaws at the flesh of his bottom lip, just a little chapped. his tongue flits out to lick along the dry skin, and he does a little cough under his breath. you’re patient, waiting for him to speak, but it’s tough when all you want is to tug him close.
(you have an idea of what he’s going to ask you, what it is he wants. because you know him — and you want it too.)
”… can,” he starts, tentative. slow, as if he’s trying to swallow the embarrassment, gulp down the nervous flutter of his heartbeat. then he continues. ”i get a hug?”
finally, he looks at you; and your heart ricochets in your chest. amber eyes boring into yours, deep and warm, soft around the edges. kind of shy. 
a sharp intake of breath. you can’t help the grin that crawls up to your lips, and you can’t help the words that spill from them. ”gosh, you’re so cute.”
suguru turns away, with what you’re almost sure is a low grumble — buzzing in his throat, like a dragonfly itching to break out. he really does look meek, a little needy, so cute you’re afraid your lungs might collapse. when a chuckle pushes past your lips, the red tint on his neck and ears only seems to exacerbate. 
with swift movements, you close your laptop, plopping it down on the table in front of you. not wanting to waste any time, a little afraid that he’ll change his mind. ”of course you can,” you assure him, a soft lull of your tongue.
leaning back, you rest your head against a pile of cushiony pillows, melting into the couch beneath you. extending your arms; beckoning him close, into your embrace. the smile you grace him with is a little teasing, but mostly soft, inviting.
and suguru can’t resist it.
he still seems a little flustered, as he crawls along the couch, to take his rightful place in your arms. flopping down on top of you with a huff, like a big dog, cheek squished against your chest — eager to listen to the echo of your heartbeat. steady and soothing, a lullaby to his muddled mind.
a long, satisfied sigh escapes him, muffled into the fabric of your shirt. he wraps his arms around you, nuzzling a little further into your touch. slowly melting.
ah, he’s just too much. try as you might, you don’t fully manage to stifle the coo that laces the tip of your tongue. just admiring him, in the dim lighting of the room, all sleepy and content. that palpable fatigue, slowly dissipating. a soft groan slips from his lips when your hand goes to card through his hair, softly, nails raking over his scalp.
”my big baby,” you murmur, planting a kiss on the top of his head. suguru wants to grumble, protest a bit, but all he can do is soak in the words, the skip of his heartbeat that follows. ”everything okay?”
he nods. groggy, cheek against your soft chest. no longer able to hide his neediness, to muster the strenght, thoroughly soothed by the warmth that seeps from your body. from your veins to his. and he sighs, barely above a whisper. ”jus’ missed you.”
he must notice it, you think — the rapid rhythm of your heartbeat, something erratic in the decisive thumps of blood. a little louder than they should be. 
but if he does, he doesn’t mention it. only shifting a little in your arms, nuzzling further into your chest, relishing in the sensation of your hand in between his messy locks. so cozy. 
”i missed you too,” you echo, unable to fight off the sappy grin on your lips. so much affection in every caress, every soft glance. eager to be let out. ”’m sorry if i’ve been neglecting you.” 
suguru shakes his head — brushing off your guilt. always so willing to put your peace of mind before his. it only weakens you further, thoughts fuzzy with the image of him, the love that clouds your vision. how to properly convey it in words. 
”i’m always so proud of you,” you exhale, a little shaky. so earnest that you falter. a loud mantra of your heartbeat filling your ears, so much fondness stuffed inside your chest. ”working so hard. love you so, so much, honey.”
this time, it’s suguru’s heart that stutters and flails. reduced to a desperate instinct, something intimate and bare. the term of endearment slips off your tongue like it was always meant to be there, like that’s where it belongs, coupled with the soft sensation of your fingers ghosting over his skin. brushing away his bangs to smear a kiss against his forehead.
”i’m never gonna let you go,” you promise, unable to control the affection smeared into your voice. like you’d explode if you didn’t speak it out loud. ”my angel.”
”okay — that’s,” suguru croaks, before you can continue. exasperated, deeply embarrassed. at this point, he’s sure his face must be red, and he’s sure you can see it. despite his attempts to hide away in the crook of your neck. ”that’s enough.”
laughter bubbles up in your throat, sweet like osmanthus and whipped cream. giddy and teasing, in equal measure, sending a jolt of fondness running through his veins. ”are you embarrassed?”
”no,” he scoffs, too quickly. you both know he’s lying. it’s a rare treat, seeing him this flustered — how could you resist the urge to tease him a bit? 
”then why d’you want me to stop?” you grin, searching for his gaze. but suguru refuses to look at you.
”it’s just…” he mumbles, a string of tiny words. gnawing at his bottom lip. ”a little much, don’t you think?”
”i mean it, though.”
suguru groans, and a bout of giggles pushes past your lips. the smile on your face is starting to make your cheeks hurt, an achy kind of joy. yeah — suguru is just far too cute. he’s cute, and pretty, and beautiful, and gorgeous. how could you keep yourself away?
reaching for a strand of his hair, you let it fall between your fingers. smooth and silky, brushing against your skin, soft and familiar. memories bloom from your fingertips, seeping into your subconscious; the first time he let you touch his hair, that content purr in his throat, the time you braided it as the world fell asleep around you. he takes good care of it, always has. attentive and delicate, almost as lovingly as he handles you.
a great surge of affection sprouts in between your ribs, spreading throughout every cell of your body, wholly engulfing you. it’s too much to bear.
a blissful sigh. you tilt your head, softly, a bleeding tenderness to every word you speak. and you do, with a sincerity to your voice that he’s never been able to handle. “is it really so strange if i want to give the love of my life some affection?” 
— and suguru’s resolve crumbles into dust. 
”… you’re,” he tries, a shiver of his weak voice. under normal circumstances, he could think of a suave reply, something to get the upper hand; but today, suguru happens to be very tired, and you seem awfully set on making him melt through the couch. ”— awful. you know that?”
his heart aches, when the bitter words make you giggle. a little sleepy. it makes him want to tuck you into his chest, hide you away inside his ribcage. kiss you breathless.
”so mean,” you pout, entirely fabricated. a heavy amusement lays thick on your tongue. “i’m professing my undying love for you here, y’know?”
”that’s exactly what i mean,” he sighs, unable to repress the slight smile on his lips. a little tug, that says more than his words ever could.
the laughter in your throat lingers, for a bit, until the intimacy of the moment softens you up. something tender and genuine in the depths of your eyes. ”i mean it, though. i’m not just teasing you.” 
your hand goes to cup his face, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. and then you’re leaning in, to press your lips against his forehead — pulling away with a drawn out mwah, a soft grin, a little boyish. terribly cute. 
”i really do love you,” you profess, a whisper. he believes you. “i love everything about you.”
a moment passes. the soft ticking of the clock fills the space between your words, and the scent of leftover curry and brewed coffee simmers in the faraway kitchen. wafting out into the living room. 
suguru places his hand over yours. a rough palm, always so gentle with you, slipping down to your wrist so he can hoist himself up. 
you blink. 
before you know it, he’s pressed his lips to yours, slow and methodical. tender, tender, tender. always. he sighs into the kiss, content, and your heartbeat quickens — he tastes like honey and rain.
when he pulls away, he’s smiling. a little lovesick.
”i love you too,” he hums, a soft purr that trails down your spine. he delights in the way you finally blush, cheeks warm beneath his heavy hands. ”so, so much.”
all you can do is stare, entirely transfixed. 
then you’re averting your gaze, and he’s stifling a soft bout of laughter, and something warm and wonderful blooms in the nearly non-existent space between you. his cheek finds itself pressed against your chest, again, allowing the soft and rapid thumping of your heartbeat to carry him away.
an anchor for him to hold on to, his lighthouse at the end of a murky ocean. it’s always, always there — that soft mantra of thump, thump, thump.
(he can’t tell you how many times it’s saved him.)
”… you can’t do stuff like that when my guard is down,” you murmur, after a moment. sheepish. ”what if my heart explodes?” 
suguru only chuckles, sleepy and raspy, the same as ever. he turns his head to press a kiss against the fabric of your shirt, right above your heart, a kind of cheeky, soft apology that you know he doesn’t actually mean. 
(he could never feel sorry for telling you how much he loves you; no matter how flustered you get.)
and, at last, suguru thinks the fatigue clinging to his soul may have slipped off entirely. substantially. soothed by your presence, your very being. 
it’s embarrassing, being so very doted on, being so painfully unaccustomed to it. but suguru could never hate it. he could never hate a single thing you do to him, grant him with, from your soft touches and cheeky kisses to the burnt pancakes you worked so hard on. 
he’d rather die than deny you. 
so he has no choice but to bask in it; the feeling of your hands in his hair, nails on his scalp, breath against his skin. the change you’ve brought into his life. bringing with you the fading scent of peach blossoms and chewing gum, sweetness and softness. happy dreams.
yeah, that’s right. he has no choice but to melt into your touch, nuzzle into your chest, fall asleep to the sound of your heartbeat. 
no choice at all.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 4 months
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katsuki still apologizes to you the same way he used to when you were kids.
he always makes a face whenever he knows he’s gone too far or when he’s done something he knows he shouldn’t have, his eyebrows are furrowed and his little chubby face contorts into a sad little pout. he tries to look tough but he can already feel guilty tears in his eyes so he looks away from you, little hands balled into fists at his sides and his head hangs low so you can’t see his red face through his bangs.
usually, he tries making it up to you by showing you something he thinks you’ll like or something he finds cool, and sometimes he’ll even let you hold his precious all might card, but only when he knows he really messed up. he’ll stiffly pet your head as an apology for pulling at your hair a little too hard earlier and if you ask him to he’ll kiss the pain away from when you scrapped your knee because he accidentally shoved you a little harder than he meant to when he was chasing you around.
but when you’re mad at him because he’s been really mean, in ways he knows his shiny holographic all might card won’t fix, he opts to simply sit next to you. with a little pout on his face and with his cheeks turning red, he’ll shove his head into your shoulder. he holds onto you tightly so he’s sure you won’t be able to escape him or his apology. you squirm around a little bit but he doesn’t let you go. you stop moving around but you still huff at him, calling him a big meanie. all he does in response is shoving his head against your shoulder and he mutters out a little "m’sorry." against it.
he hears you shuffle to look at him and he looks up at you, his eyebrows are still furrowed and his cheeks are so red because he’s really not used to apologizing and he doesn’t like to, but he does for you. and even at the tender age of seven, you really can’t stay mad at him when he looks like that, so you forgive him and you’ve already forgotten what you were even mad about when he grins at you boyishly, already back to his usual self as he drags you off to your next adventure who knows where, but even at the tender age of seven, you knew you’d follow him to the ends of the earth as long as he led the way.
he’s changed so much and not at all at the same time. he hates it whenever you get mad at him and he still does everything and anything to get your attention when you are. and just like before, whenever he hurts you in ways he knows his actions can’t fix, he opts to come up behind you and wrap his arms around your middle loosely, giving you the option to break out of his hold if you wanted to. his hold on you slowly tightens when you make no move to, his head is shoved into the crook of your neck and his chest is pressed flush against your back,“ i’m sorry.” he whispers.
it wouldn’t mean much if it came from anyone else but this is katsuki. you’ve known him for as long as you can remember, you know how he is : he’s unruly, headstrong and so stubborn it drives you crazy sometimes. but he casts all of that—all of him aside for you.
“i’m sorry.” he says again, his voice is low and a little shaky.“ shouldn’t have said all that to you. that wasn’t…cool” he fumbles around for the right words to say and you have to hold back a laugh as he does so, but you can tell he’s trying.“never wanna make ya mad at me..” he finishes quietly. he’s fiddling around with the ends of your shirt waiting for your response. then he hears you shuffle around to peek at him and he looks up at you.
he really hasn’t changed. he’s still got the same little frown, the same little crease between his brows and the same rosy cheeks. sure his features are less rounded, his cheeks are definitely less chubby, he’s gotten taller but he’s still your same katsuki who’s a little rough and a big meanie sometimes, but who also always makes sure to apologize to you when he knows he’s hurt you because that’s the last thing he wants.
you grant him a tiny smile. his eyes light up and he stands a little straighter and after a second he’s on you, pressing kisses all over your cheek, grinning boyishly at you and you still want to follow him to the ends of the world as long as he’s leading the way.
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jinxlixir · 5 months
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moments between us
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characters: wanderer, childe, neuvillette
synopsis: it seems you've accidentally pavlov'ed your lover
a/n: childes part is related to this fic, wanderers part is related to this fic - but both can be understood without them! oh and childes part is a little suggestive (what came over me oml), also i hope google translate did not fail me in childes part
in case you don’t know pavlov, google can explain better than i can… but basically its just conditioning to connect one event to another
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wanderer
the kitchen is quiet this morning. in the air wafts a distinct sweet scent, while two figures occupy the space. you flip the pancakes as carefully as you can - with a second body clinging tightly to yours. it certainly is overbearing the way two hands tightly clutch against your waist, pressing your body as close as it can to the other. normally, you prepare two separate dishes for breakfast, one of them catering to the bitter taste buds of the man intruding living with you. yet a thought slowly creeps into your mind - a hypothesis that you have been wondering about for a while.
“do you want to try this?” you lift up a spoonful of the padisarah pudding you were eating, hovering close to the lips of the man sitting in front of you. he jerks back, a scornful expression eyes the pudding in front of him as if it were a spoonful of shit.
“no. why would you even suggest that.” you don't think twice before enjoying the rejected pudding yourself.
“you were just looking at me intensely.” your words are muffled. “just assumed you probably wanted something.” he mutters something incoherent under his breath, glaring at the cup in your hands. you could probably guess what he wanted based on his bitter expression and the places where his gaze would land, but why would you miss out on the chance to see him sulking like a child?
you scoop another chunk of the pudding.
“say ahh~” “did you not hear m-!!”
with a fell swoop, you shove the spoon between his lips before yours followed, slotting against his for a second before you pulled away cheekily.
“so.. how was it?”
“...it was good.”
so far, it's worked with mint jelly, dango, and sakura mochi.
you hum lightly, “say ahh~” lifting up a piece of the food you had just made towards your shoulder, where wanderer currently rests his head. you feel him part away from your shoulder to scrutinize the dish, before slowly biting down on the fork. your body twists slightly to observe his expression; to see how he struggles to mask his disgust at the sweet flavor, but the slight twitch of his eye and scrunch of his nose reveals his distaste. even so, he finishes swallowing the pancake, and peers down at you, visibly eager for something he’s become accustomed to receiving after tasting your food. a teasing smile spreads on your lips when you twist yourself back towards the pan, moving to plate the food. his hold on you tightens.
“it’s really good.” his face presses closer to your neck, craning to be closer to your face. you know he doesn’t genuinely think so, but still couldn’t help but give in (it’s hard to resist a face like his unfortunately) you press your lips against his, sliding your arms around his neck. he leans in closer, sliding his hand to hold your neck, while the other pulls your hand to hold him tighter.
when you pull apart, a satisfied smirk is all you see on his face, before he twists you back into your original position. it seems another dish has proven your hypothesis once more.
neuvillette
“monsieur neuvillette, here are new reports that need your approval as soon as possible.” you trek up to his desk and set down the new pile of documents on an empty corner of his desk (which was difficult since it was covered with piles of papers). he wearily smiles at you, brimming with exhaustion from the hours of work he has done. “should i assist you with the state of your desk right now?”
“if you could, thank you so much.” a silence falls between you two while you swiftly move to arrange the papers cluttering around his desk, ordering them in a method that you knew he preferred. his pen scratches against paper rapidly, paper rustling and sliding in a rhythm. you turn your attention to the small drawer beside his desk, clearing and stacking more relevant documents on top. your last stack sits closer to neuvillette, so you lift one hand in his direction, facing upwards, while your other one works to push the sheets into a neater stack.
your next words fail to be expressed before you’re immediately stumped when you feel a hand rest in yours, instead of the smooth feel of paper.
“?? neuvillette?? is everything alright?” you’re met with quite the sight - the iudex of fontaine covering his face with his free hand, yet still unable to cover the elongated tips of his ears, gleaming with red.
“...was this not what you were asking?”
“..no, my dear.. the papers. i was asking for the papers near you.” watching the realization flood through his expression, you immediately rush to take your words back. “-but this is also pleasant!! i would much rather hold your hands than a stack of boring reports!!”
it seems that your lover became used to recognizing this certain gesture for something else.
“what is this?” neuvillette stares at your arm extended in his direction, unsure what to place in your hand.
“i want to hold your hand!” you interlace your fingers between his and beam with satisfaction. later neuvillette learns to recognize this gesture, always moving to place his hands in yours when you’ve extended yours.
sedene ignores the fact that one of neuvillette’s hands is occupied while he finishes the rest of his paperwork.
childe
“ajax! can you help me grab that up there?”
“thank you.” a kiss is left on his cheek.
.
“ajax! this jar is stuck, can you open it for me?”
“thank you!” a kiss is left on his forehead.
.
“ajax! can you help me chop these carrots?”
“thank you, Дорогой.” a kiss is left on his nose.
.
lately, childe has developed a new quirk. he’s become increasingly attentive towards your actions, eager to jump in to help you even with the simplest tasks (if you didn’t stop him soon, he might do your whole morning routine on you while you don’t lift a single finger). you’re certain you know the cause of this, a realization you noticed after you found yourself with a lack of chores since childe would do them all, stopping in front of you to show his handiwork, radiating with eagerness (you keep rewarding him with what he wants… it’s really difficult not to when he’s like that).
tonight, childe has a formal event to make an appearance for, with you in attendance as his partner. the silk dress drapes over your figure, the fabric flowing and hugging every curve softly. you eye the zipper on the small of your back through the mirror, before settling at the vanity instead. childe is bound to walk in soon enough.
right on time, he steps into the bedroom, his eyes melting at the prettiest sight he’s blessed with every day. “Дорогой, can you help me zip up this dress?” he’s quick to rush to your side, kneeling to settle at your height, grasping at the clasp of the zipper. “up ajax, not down.” you can feel his playful pout behind you while you smudge out your bold lip color. the silk tightens around your torso, and a soft kiss is pressed against the nape of your neck when it reaches the top.
“you’re so pretty.” his words muffled against your burning skin, his eyes boring into yours through the mirror. a hum echoes through the room, before you slide around to face him and tug at his open collar. your lip brushes against his collarbone, leaving a wake of kisses up the side of his neck. when you pull away, childe is in a daze, his consciousness clearly gone from the room. a satisfied smirk pulls against your cheeks.
“thank you!” a wipe is tossed in his direction. “hurry up or we’ll be late!”
(you’ll find yourself mortified when childe decides to proudly wear the lip marks around the event, his hold tight against your waist to show who had done this).
(he also had to beg for weeks for a single kiss after he cleaned the whole house twice, when usually it would take a simple, smaller task).
(he’s learned his lesson).
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jelluf1sh · 8 days
Text
what's on my mind ? going on a date to the arcade with teen!gojo. feeling his soft hand in yours as he drags you along, the patterned carpeted floor beneath your feet as you follow behind him, laughing, "slow down, 'toru, we have all day!" only for it to fall on deaf ears because gojo has always loved the arcade. thinking about the way he challenges you to games he knows you're bad at, his dimples creasing into his cheeks and his eyebrows quirked in satisfaction as he watches you sulk and pout and whine about him being unfair or "cheating" when you inevitably lose. thinking about the way he makes up for teasing you by winning you that plushie you'd been eyeing from the claw machine (even if it took him some frustration and roughly 15 dollars), your mood immediately improved as you follow him around with it in your arms. his arms around your waist and his chin on your shoulder as he whispers, "go, baby!" or, "there y'go," or "attagirl," into your ear as you [try to] focus on a game of your choosing. it's a day for you two, in your own little bubble, just two dumb teenagers in love. the way he smiles? only for you. the way he pouts when you win? only 'cause you look so cute when you beat him, even if you are rubbing it in his face. the way his lashes flutter against his cheeks when he pulls you into a sweet kiss ("your reward for winning," as he put it)? only because it's your lips he's kissing. thinking about the sparkle in his pretty eyes when you win him a keychain as a thanks at the end of it all, and the way you catch the little cat figure dangling from his schoolbag the very next day. ♡
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fanaticsnail · 17 days
Text
Kiss their cheek
Masterlist Here
Word Count: 220-650 for each character
Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Law, Kid
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Synopsis: It was a simple reaction, an impulse you felt organic and out of your control. Their cheek was right there, and the swell in your chest and spike of adrenaline prompted you to lunge forward and capture their cheek beneath your lips. How do they react to such a soft touch? Do they shy away, or do they respond in kind?
Notes: I have hit a follower milestone and I am freaking out about it. I don't normally post about the follower count, but this is simply too incredible to not mark the occasion for. To distract myself from the sheer number of you that found my writing good enough to follow, I have a little drabble for you to enjoy for my favorites. To quote the goodest and bestest boy there ever was: “Thank you for loving me.” I love you all too. All 1,200+ of you.
Themes: cheek kisses, feelings, monster trio, supernova trio, crewmate!reader, unrequited love, confessions of love, no prior romantic relationship, gn!reader, pure fluff, A little OOC while I'm still learning about a couple of the blorbos.
Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @cinnbar-bun
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Blackleg Sanji
“Dinner was beautiful as always, Sanji,” you cooed at him, swooping forward and collecting his smooth cheek beneath your lips in a small kiss, “Well done, Chef.” Holding his cheek in contact with your lips for a few moments longer before pulling away with a broad smile. 
“You’re most welcome, love,” he returned your affectionate demonstration, his lips finding your cheek and grazing your flesh with his lips. 
Both of you reacted as if this touch was not uncommon, not something out of the ordinary in the slightest. This was the first time you had given him this small gesture, demonstrating your appreciation for his hard work with something as simple as a small kiss. 
The fact that this kiss was so freely given to him had Sanji’s heart catch in his throat, his pulse rapidly beating and elevating the flow of his adrenaline through his veins. His family of origin comes from a culture that kisses on the cheeks to greet and farewell friends, acquaintances and even enemies. Why did this kiss feel so perfect against his skin? 
He would do anything to feel your lips on him again, often giving you preferential treatment in the hopes your lips would find his skin once more. Should he gather up the courage to turn his head, claiming your lips within his own, would you turn away? He hoped you wouldn’t. 
Roronoa Zoro
His mind could not comprehend the moment that just befell him. 
It was a simple night of comradery and relaxation. The air felt alight with joyful merriment: Brook playing music, Sanji ensuring each of you had an adequate meal. It felt light: nothing plaguing, hunting, seeking, nor fighting. It was simple, and that is what it felt. 
It being a simple and small kiss against his right cheek.
In all the realms of intimacy and subtle touches, Zoro was inexperienced in receiving and reciprocating. Zoro was, for lack of a better word, a virgin to such an expression of unbridled affection. 
“You are an excellent first-mate, Zoro,” you laughed up at him, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, “A noble knight and fearless protector.”
Zoro’s head couldn’t produce a single thought to form a string of a sentence. He had not felt this way, the ignition of a small swell of passion to not involve swordsmanship, ever before. 
“Th-Thanks, I guess?” he grunted, his brows arching at you. You giggled, patting him on the shoulder and offering him a warm smile. 
“You’re welcome, soldier,” you cooed up at him before turning on your heel, following the gentle rise in rhythm with your hips, dancing along to Brook’s playing. He followed your movement with a keen eye, more enthusiastic about your gentle sway and soft laughter than he was moments prior. 
Monkey D Luffy
“Oh, Captain!” you smiled at him, hooking your arm over his shoulder and drawing him close to your face, “Your cheeks are so cute. I could just-,” you halted your words, lunging forward and peppering his tanned cheeks with several fluttered kisses, humming throughout each press. 
“Oi, oi, Docinho,” he chuckled, swatting at your hands and writhing within your arms, “Stop that. I am a hardened criminal. I am a captain! You’re not meant to think I’m cute, you’re meant to dote on me and offer me tribute of your loyalty!” You giggled, allowing him to swipe your body away from his. 
His eyes darted away from yours, his lips curved in a soft pout with his brows furrowing in a deep frown. For a moment, you thought you truly offended him by your lips finding his skin. Your eyes widened, your hands shaking defensively to desperately retract your affectionate touch.
“I’m sorry, Captain. I didn’t mean to-,” you were silenced by several inexperienced kisses littering your cheeks, nose and forehead. The cheeky chuckle that followed each of the small pecks only prompted your mind to chase your heart with its rapidity. He placed his hands over your shoulders, laughing whole-heartedly at your frazzlement. 
“If this is the way you’re offering me tribute as a wonderful captain,” he hummed thoughtfully, “Perhaps I’m not so bad at the job after all.” 
Trafalgar D Water-Law
“You work too hard,” you sigh against his cheek, pulling away from his cool flesh and raking your eyes over his face, “You deserve to take a break some time.” You watched the small hue of pink rise to dust over his cheeks, his hair at the nape of his neck standing alert and rigid. 
Unsure what exactly prompted you to seek out your captain’s cheek with your lips, you were regretting the small brush of your lips over his smooth skin the instant you drew yourself away. Watching as Law inhaled a deep breath through his nose, he exhaled a lengthy breath through his lips: following the small gesture with a soft hum. 
“Just know that you’re appreciated, Sir,” you reiterated your stance, ensuring you held your eyes against his to reinforce your seriousness, “I-... We appreciate you, Captain. We love you, and want to help you achieve your goals. Just-... Just know that, okay?” 
Yellow eyes followed your exit, watching every step that you took and hearing the hollow floor ricochet the reverberating tap of your boot heel. His haunted gaze held firm to your retreat, silence growing heavy at the closure of his office door. 
He could not stop thinking about the kiss all day. The way your lips felt against his cheek, the way he felt the small elevation of your smile - the way his heart swelled in his chest, and the way his breath caught in his throat. He wanted to know what it meant. He needed to know if you were being friendly and supportive, or if you wanted more. 
Lips over his cheek, the catching over the words “I appreciate you” with your reassurances that he is loved and worthy of devotion, inhibited him from welcoming slumber for several days. In the hopes of providing him encouragement and loyalty to soothe his rapidly sporadic mind, you aided in him in only finding restlessness. 
Growling at his own racing emotions, he hastily drew up the transponder snail and dialed your personal shell. He awaited the annoying hum, the crackle of the receiver halting as you picked up the call. 
“C-Captain?” your groggy voice called over the snail, “Cap, it’s nearly five in the morning. I clocked off the overnight shift and only just got to sleep-.”
“-Do you love me?” he quickly spurted the words before he could stop them. 
Your mind did not have the capacity to mask your words, given your groggy sleep deprivation. Yawning your answer into the transponder, Law’s heart raced at hearing your words.
“Of course I love you. We all love you,” you confirmed, rolling your neck and taking a moment to collect yourself, “You’re my captain. I pledged my allegiance to follow you, sir. What are you calling me at-?”
“-No,” Law’s voice crackled over the receiver, his tone immediately waking you of your prior tired state, “I need to know what it meant. I need to know what it meant. Why did you kiss me?”
“What?” you began, shaking your head and brows beginning to knit in confusion, “I don’t understand what you’re-.”
“-Why would you kiss me knowing your lips would haunt me? Knowing that that kiss you gave would scorch and mark my heart?” his voice rose as his temper boiled over the edge. “You know I closed myself off to this bullshit. You know what giving me a small amount of your affection would do to me. Why would you-?”
“-Because I love you, Law,” you uttered in a low voice. You flung your legs over the bed, feet finding your sleep shoes beneath your mattress. Your confession hung heavy in the air, your heart and mind fully awake and comprehending your every waking minute. Silence was heavy and swollen with tension, your mind racing over all the possible retorts Law could throw at you. 
Dismissal, execution, exile, abandonment: these were the responses you deduced to be the most appropriate response. In its stead, you were greeted with a small huffed chuckle and a low rumbled retort.
“Come to my office,” he hummed into the receiver, “Show me more. I-I-...” the transponder crackled as Law found his words, “...-I need more.”
Eustass Kid
“In some cultures, it’s seen as a sign of respect,” you nodded your head, bowing your down to him, “It’s an extension of submission and admission to serve beneath a mighty ruler. Hands are the most common to touch, but kissing a cheek is the most intimate expression of-.”
“-Fine, you can kiss me,” the gruff rumble of Eustass Kid’s voice dismissively crackled. He rolled his eyes, turning his cheek away from you to hide the bite of his lip to stifle his rising blush. 
Affectionate touches was not something Kid, nor his crew, were very experienced in receiving. When he offered you the chance of joining his crew to achieve his goals, Eustass Kid did not expect you to dote and coddle each of his crewmen into submission beneath your affectionate touches. As the last member of his crew to be a recipient of your gentle touch, he truly did not comprehend why his heart was beating with anxious rapidity. 
“Only if you’re sure-,” you began, halted by a harsh bark from your captain.
“-I said it was fine, didn’t I?” his gruff voice cut through the air. While his head was still turned from you, he stretched out his right hand to await a small touch from your lips. 
But his cheek was right there. You couldn’t help but spring at the opportunity to rise up to Eustass Kid’s seated position on the wooden bench aboard the deck. He was ripe for doting and peppering a flurry of kisses all over his face, but you held yourself back from such an expression of unbridled affection. You opted to start slow.
Gently touching his shoulders, you stooped down and pressed a sweet and intentional kiss atop the apple of his cheek. You felt his breath catch in his throat, an unintentional whimper halting in his nose at the soft expression of your admiration.
As you pulled away from him, your upper left arm was caught by the wide and firm grasp of the captain of the Victoria-Punk. His face was still turned away from you, but the crimson hue of his pale face gave away the elevation of his heartbeat. 
“I’m sorry, Captain. I should’ve just gone for the hand-,” you began, attempting to tug away from his grip and apologize properly to him. 
“C-Can I-...” he grunted out a gruff cough, continuing to hold his face away from yours, “...Can I have another one?”
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angelltheninth · 15 days
Note
Oh! Kiss 32: jumping into your lovers arms with Nightwing pretty please!
Jumping, kising, kicking my feet for him!
Pairing: Dick Grayson/Nightwing x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, reunion kisses, Reader being lifted up, lovestruck Nightwing
A/N: Been reading the latest Nightwing run, crazy shit is going down. Yo-ho-ho.
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32. Jumping into your lover's arms
The long night of jumping from rooftops didn't stop Nightwing from sneaking his way through your shared flat and welcoming you with open arms as soon as the bedroom door opened. "Someone's missed me."
"It's been a good few hours Dick, of course I missed you." You jumped to him, arms and legs ready to lock around his body.
"Oof. Hold o- ow shit..." Your boyfriend overestimated himself, his back colliding with the doorframe. "Gonna feel that one tomorrow." He groaned.
You felt sorry for him, seeing the way his lips pressed tight together. "Should I take it easy on you then? If you're hurt I don't wanna make it worse." Dick worked hard to keep the people safe, you would keep him safe in return.
"Actually, I was thinking I could take this costume off and... you could kiss it better for me." Even under his mask you could see his eyebrows wiggle as his mouth formed a cheeky grin. "It would really make me feel better."
"Then let's start here." First were his lips, where you payed special attention to the upper one. He tasted metallic, but didn't hold back, his arms bracing around your thighs and bringing you to the bed where he placed you down gently.
"Might need to help me take it off." Nightwing teased.
His mask was the first to go, you needed to see those beautiful blue eyes of his darken.
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hyperrbolic-orange · 8 months
Text
Eddie leaned against the counter at the back of the Palace Arcade, staring fixedly at the phone. The phone sat silently, unringing. Mocking him.  
“Time?” Eddie asked, already knowing the answer. It was going to be the same answer he’d gotten the last three times he asked.  
On the other side of the counter, leaning against it with a tired expression, Steve let out a long-suffering sigh. “Two minutes after the last time you asked me,” Steve drawled.  
“Hmm, definitely feels like more than two minutes this time,” Eddie muttered. He eyed the phone, which held up the middle finger and cussed him out. Well, no, it didn’t do that. It just sat there, being a normal phone.  
But it felt like it was doing that. In reality, the phone did nothing. In his mind, it taunted him with cruel and increasingly vulgar language. Eddie’s eyes narrowed.  
“It’s broken, man, I’m calling it.” Eddie straightened up, reeling back from the counter. He gestured at the phone. “No one’s calling because no one can.”  
“It wasn’t broken when we tested it two hours ago, remember?” Steve pointed out. 
“Well, alright, then I’m going to fucking break it.” Eddie barred his teeth at the phone, daring it to continue its silent existence. It did, because again, it was just a normal phone and cared not for his threats.  
Another tired sigh from Steve. Eddie ignored him; the guy had known what he was getting into when he’d offered to keep Eddie company while he waited. They’d been friends for a year now, plenty of time for Harrington to figure out that he was nuts and stop returning his calls.  
The fact that he kept coming around, hanging out with him, inviting him to movies with him and Robin proved it. Steve could bitch and sigh all he wanted, but he was in this. He wanted the phone to ring almost as much as Eddie.  
It would have been weird, their friendship, in any other universe. But that was the thing about Hawkins. You didn’t survive the absolute shitshow that was the Upside Down and not get a little bonded to the guy that carried your almost-lifeless body out of hell.  
Besides, they’d been in the hospital together for months, with very little to do but talk. So they’d gotten to know each other, and each had grudgingly accepted that maybe all the shit they’d thought about the other had been BS.  
Steve came around the other side of the counter now, ignoring Eddie’s insistence that it was employees only, which was rude. What was the fun of working at a place like the Palace if he couldn’t enforce arbitrary rules on all his friends?  
“You are not going to break the phone,” Steve said, putting two hands on Eddie’s shoulders. He looked him in the eyes, shook him a bit. “You need the phone.”  
Eddie glared at Steve, who had just become a collaborator of his greatest enemy and clearly lying about being his friend at all. “Why?”  
“Because that’s where you told Hopper to call you. You can’t break the phone.”  
“It insulted my mother, Steve. It needs to die.”  
“No, it didn’t,” Steve said, so evenly and reasonably, like he was just certain the phone was not making crude insinuations about acts it had performed with his mother the previous night. Jerk.  
Steve dropped his hands from Eddie’s shoulders, turning as someone approached the counter. Eddie glared, annoyed at the customer walking up to them. Part of the appeal of hiding at the back counter was that it was so out of the way that most people never noticed it. It was just the phone and an old, defunct cash register back there.  
The prizes were all at a booth closer to the centre of the arcade now, and Eddie had a belt with change and tokens in it, so there was no need for him to be stuck back there at all. Certainly no reason for any customers to approach.  
Unless they needed tokens and were wondering why he wasn’t walking around the floor, like he was supposed to be. Customers were inconsiderate like that.  
“Hey there, Mr. Wheeler,” Steve said, greeting the customer with a small smile.  
Right, the guy did look familiar. He’d seen him picking Mike and the other kids up before, from the Arcade or Steve’s apartment, when everyone hung out there.  
Ted Wheeler was a tired-looking, bespectacled man in his late 30s or early 40s, who seemed to give off the air of someone much older and much more exhausted with humanity. “Hmm,” he said, by way of greeting.  
“I um, have been sent to get more tokens,” Mr. Wheeler said in a flat voice. He held out a handful of change, which Eddie took. He counted it out quickly, then gave the appropriate amount of tokens back. “Thanks.”  
He pocketed the tokens, then glanced at Steve. “Do you have the time?”  
“Yeah, it’s a quarter after three,” Steve said, automatically. Eddie grinned, and Steve shot him a glare, annoyed at having been tricked into revealing the exact time to him.  
“Hmm,” Mr. Wheeler said again. “I was supposed to pick the kids up at three,” he said, looking sour. “Do either of you happen to know why Mike keeps shooing me away, and every single one of them refuses to look away from that game?”  
“Uh, yeah,” Steve said, exchanging a look with Eddie. “Max is trying to beat the high score on DIGDUG again. She had the most points before, but with everything that happened last year...” He shrugged. It seemed pretty obvious why Max hadn’t exactly been able to maintain her high score last year. “So she’s trying to beat it again, and she’s close.”  
“Ah,” Mr. Wheeler said. “Well, at least it’s something important,” he drawled.  
“Yup,” Steve agreed, pointedly ignoring Mr. Wheeler’s sarcasm.  
“You know, after everything she’s been through, I think it’s great to see her getting back to her old self,” Eddie agreed. “Life’s been a shitshow for the kid, right?”  
Steve nodded. They both looked at Ted, who glared at them. He had no response to that, and they both knew it. Yes, he had to wait for Max and everyone else to play a video game. No, no one was going to be on his side about being annoyed about that.  
Max had spent her fair share of time in the hospital with the two of them, and if she decided her new hobby was going around beating the crap out of old ladies, Steve and Eddie would have her back on that too.  
“I thought you worked at the video store,” Ted said, changing the subject. He didn’t seem eager to head back to the cheering kids hovering around Max at the DIGDUG cabinet.  
“I do,” Steve said. “I’m just keeping Eddie company while he waits.”  
“Waits?”  
Steve nodded. “Hopper’s calling soon.”  
Eddie snorted. “No, he’s not. He's never calling, because he’s a lying liar who hates me and wants me to suffer in an eternity of torment.”  
Ted raised his eyebrows; Steve just shrugged.  
“What’s he calling about?”  
“Whether or not I’m a murderer,” Eddie said glumly. He balled his hand into a fist and nervously pressed it against his mouth. “He was talking to the DA today about getting the charges dropped.”  
Eddie hated this. Hated waiting, hated that his fate was so utterly out of his own hands. Hated that he was still dealing with this shit a fucking year later. But the town had been in so much chaos after the defeat of the Upside Down and Vecna’s death that it had taken almost six months for anyone to remember about Eddie.  
But they had remembered eventually, and Hopper had delivered the news that he’d been officially charged in the death of Chrissy Cunningham while Eddie had still been recovering from his wounds at home.  
It was a bullshit charge, Hopper said. They’d drop it easily, he’d said. The coroner's report clearly indicated that no external force had touched Chrissy. It was a seizure of some kind, most likely. The reports for the other three victims said the same thing, and no one could place Eddie anywhere near those.  
Jason’s half-mad, unofficial testimony that he’d used black magic to kill Patrick notwithstanding.  
Hopper would get the charges thrown out with no further action. He’d promised.  
That was six months ago. The legal system moved at a snail's pace, and it was slowly eating away at whatever was left of Eddie’s sanity.  
But today was the day. He'd find out that the charges were either dropped... or when his arraignment would be.  
“It’s gonna be okay,” Steve said quietly. “He’ll call.”  
Eddie just sort of groaned in response. He was staring at the phone again, willing it to either ring or spontaneously combust. It did neither.  
“Right,” Ted said, shifting awkwardly. “Well, uh... good luck with that...” he muttered. “I’m gonna...” He turned and walked away, likely heading back to his son and the screaming group of his friends.  
“What if they didn’t drop them?” Eddie muttered. “I mean, like actually, what the fuck am I gonna do? I can’t afford a lawyer... not a decent one.”  
“It’ll be okay, Eddie—” Steve started.  
“You can’t promise that!” Eddie snapped. He didn’t mean to yell at Steve, but he was freaking out, and he couldn’t yell at anyone he actually wanted to yell at. Fucking Jason Carver... Vecna... they were all goddamned dead. Which at this moment felt very rude. He wished they were back, so he could kill them himself. Earn the title of murderer that had already been handed to him.  
No, he didn’t wish that. Especially not about Vecna.  
But he was freaking out.  
“Look at me, man,” Eddie said. “ Every jury in the world would convict me. Hell, I was almost a victim of vigilante mob justice! They didn’t even have evidence or the kind of fancy speeches that lawyers will have if this goes to trial.” Eddie shook his head miserably. “Maybe I can strike a deal, plead guilty, get a reduced sentence...”  
“Eddie...”  
The phone rang. Eddie yelped. “Shit shit shit, what do I do?” he looked at Steve, terrified. “What do I do?”  
“Answer it, asshole!”  
Eddie grabbed the phone. “HelloPalaceArcadeEddieSpeaking.”   
It was Hopper. He spoke quickly. Eddie listened. He held his breath. Next to him, Steve moved in close, listening to what Hopper was saying. He said a lot of things that were having a not-easy time sticking in Eddie’s mind. He heard things like lack of evidence and inexcusable modern witch hunt. None of it made sense. Was Hopper even speaking English? Did Eddie speak English? 
What were words?   
But he saw the look on Steve’s face, and slowly the words began to sort themselves out. Steve looked happy.   
“ The case against you has been thrown out,” Hopper had said. Whatever the fuck else he’d said, he’d definitely said that.  
“So, wait... so I’m not a murderer?” Eddie asked. “I’m not being charged; I’m not... going to jail?” 
“Nope,” Hopper said. “You’re a free man, Eddie Munson.”  
Eddie blinked. He stared down at the receiver in his hand. Words were failing him again. Fortunately, Steve picked up the slack. He took the phone from Eddie and thanked Hopper for everything, explained that Eddie was just malfunctioning at the moment. Hopper invited them over for dinner with him, Joyce and the rest of his family later in the week, and Steve agreed for both of them. Then he hung up the phone and looked at Eddie.  
“Eddie,” Steve said, a hand back on his shoulder, shaking him. “Eddie, did you hear him?”  
Eddie nodded. He looked at Steve, his heartbeat picking up erratically in his chest.  
“Did he say—”  
“He did, he fucking said it—”  
“It’s okay? It’s fucking okay?”  
“Yes,” Steve practically shouted, shaking him again. He jumped up a little, getting excited. “You’re fucking free, charges dropped!”   
“Holy shit, holy shit,” Eddie said, the truth finally hitting him. He wasn’t going to jail, didn’t have to go through a trial. He wasn’t a murderer, he was cleared. He felt dizzy and put a hand on Steve’s chest to steady himself. Steve was still shaking him, talking excitedly, saying they had to call Wayne, had to call Robin, had to tell everyone—  
“I’m fucking free, I’m fucking free,” Eddie babbled. Steve’s excitement was making him giddy, and he shook Steve back, clasping his arms.  
“You’re fucking free,” Steve agreed.  
Happiness, relief, exhaustion and the desire to cry like a little bitty baby all welled up in Eddie’s chest. The nightmare was over, after so fucking long. It was more than a weight off his shoulders, he was weightlessness itself, floating and untethered.  
He teetered deliriously on his feet, still clutching Steve like he might actually drift away if he let go of him. Steve’s face was close to his, and they were holding onto each other, elated and ecstatic. And then Steve’s hands were on his face, holding him, and Steve’s mouth was against his, kissing him.  
And Eddie was so relieved, so happy, so free that he didn’t even realize. Steve was kissing him, and he was kissing Steve back, and everything was fan-fucking-tastic.   
The sound of a throat being cleared brought him back down to reality.  
Steve backed away, blinking and dazed. Eddie looked at him. They both turned and looked at Ted Wheeler, who had wandered back over.  
“Umm... good news?” Ted asked. His face was neutral and expressionless, as usual. 
Eddie cleared his throat. “Charges dropped,” he said gruffly.  
“That’s great,” Ted said mildly. “I wanted to ask if you knew when the kids might be done... I can just go home and come back, if it’s going to be an hour or more?”  
“Uh...” Steve said. “Probably, yeah.”  
Eddie nodded in agreement. “DIGDUG can be challenging.”  
“Right,” Ted said. He looked at them. They looked back. Several long moments passed.  
“That wasn’t what you think,” Steve blurted.  
Ted was silent.  
“It was an accident,” Eddie added. Steve nodded quickly. “We didn’t—we weren’t—we just got caught up in the moment, was all.”  
“Yeah, it was just, lots of emotions, uh... emotional... caught up,” Steve said, somewhat nonsensically. He crossed his arms, sticking his hands under his armpits. “An accident.”  
“Right,” Ted said, a note of disbelief in his otherwise bored tone. “I’m heading out, tell the kids to call me when they’re done... Digdugging.” He walked off, leaving the two of them standing there, staring.  
Neither of them said anything for a while. Eventually, Eddie found his voice. “Can we kill him?”  
“Eddie!”  
“What? He thinks he knows something—which he doesn’t, because there’s nothing to know because it was an accident—but still.”  
“You just got murderer charges dropped, there’s no way you’re going to commit an actual murder.”   
“Well, why not?” Eddie challenged. “Why not? I spent a year being called a murderer for something I didn’t even do! I think I should get to do a little actual murder,” he said. “As a treat.”  
Steve glared, and Eddie threw up his hands. “You’re so goddamned unreasonable, Steven!”  
“Look, it was an accident,” Steve said. “It’s not a big deal.” 
“I don’t think Mr. Wheeler believes that.”  
“Well, screw him, it was an accident. We know it was.” 
“Of course,” Eddie agreed. “I wasn’t even thinking about it. It just happened.”  
“Exactly, me too. It would have been totally different if we’d been thinking about it.”  
“Right. On-purpose kisses are completely different from accidental ones,” Eddie said. Steve nodded.  
A few more moments passed quietly. Eddie thought back a few minutes, to when Steve’s mouth had been on his. It had been an accident. But did that mean it was a mistake? If he was being honest... no. Not for him, at least.  
It had been nice, kissing Steve.  
Eddie cleared his throat and glanced over at Steve. “Um, I know how we can prove it was an accident,” he said casually. Steve raised an eyebrow. “If we go into the backroom and kiss on purpose, we’ll be able to see. Y’know, how different it is.”  
Steve nodded slowly, apparently turning this information over in his mind. Eddie watched him carefully, looking for some sign of disgust or disinterest. “That’s smart,” Steve said. Eddie let out a relieved breath. “We can like, uh, compare,” he said.  
“And then we’ll have proof,” Eddie said. “And that’ll show him.”  
“Show who?”  
“Mr. Wheeler.”  
“Right,” Steve said. “Him. Yeah, that’s a good plan. Good idea.”  
“The only kind I have,” Eddie said, grinning.  
Steve snorted. “A second ago, you were planning on killing Mike’s dad.”  
“Sorry, can’t hear you, heading to the back room already,” Eddie said, moving out from behind the counter. He walked in the direction of the back room, and glanced over his shoulder. “You coming?”  
Steve nodded and raced forward, a big smile on his face.  
Two hours later, when Ted Wheeler arrived (once again) at the arcade to collect his kid (and his kid's friends), Steve and Eddie were still nowhere to be seen. He sighed tiredly. “An accident...” he muttered. “Right.” 
--- Based on the First Kiss prompt from @dwobbitfromtheshire
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calumfmu · 28 days
Text
spread thin
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Summary: You and Steve have been best friends for the entirety of your lives, always platonic and nothing more. As graduation approaches, you find yourself wishing that something would come out of this decades-long relationship. During a recurring Friday movie night, you confess your feelings to him, not realizing the man had felt the same way the entire time.
cw: 18+, mdni, smut, fem!reader, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie
2.9k+ words
The boy in front of you was beautiful. He was everything that you had pictured in a man, yet nothing of the sort that you imagined yourself to be with. He was handsome, charismatic, funny-- every good thing that could come with a boy.
But he wasn't yours.
Steve was everything and everyones before the label of yours could be applied.
"yn?"
His voice sounded throughout the fluorescent room, it's white walls allowing you to be caught in the midst of your thoughts. You met his eyes, his dark brown searching for clarification in the color of your own.
"Sorry, just..." your hands tightened around the broom, glancing down at the foot of tile you hadn't realized you were sweeping repeatedly for the last ten minutes. "A lot on my mind, graduation and all."
He stood there for a second, nodding as his hands graced the cash register in front of him. He had a hint of something on his face, something you couldn't recognize from his normal expressions. He suddenly shrugged, shaking his head to himself as he paid attention to the machine.
"Well... I'm just about done here," he supplied before closing the drawer. "Whenever you're done, I was thinking that we could head to mine? Movie night, drinks?"
You nodded, smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. This was normal between the two of you. You have been best friends since kindergarten, it was always SteveandYn and YnandSteve.
He smiled back at you, walking around the corner.
"Well, let's get out of here, then." He took the broom from your hands, placing it in its respective supply closet. "I found a copy of that new horror movie on VHS, and you're going to love it."
As you two closed up shop, you made your way through the mall. His car was parked in the back of the lot, giving you ample time to think of what had been plaguing your mind lately. These feelings for Steve hadn't came out of nowhere, they had been building for the last couple of years as he became more popular. King Steve as they called him. You held back the eye roll of the remark, knowing that people didn't understand the true character of the man.
Calling him something like that only emphasized his woman-user ways, but did not touch on the sweetness he had to him. He was painted as a player, someone that did not care about women. Deep down, you knew that wasn't true.
His shoulder bumped into yours, shaking you of your thoughts. Steve opened the passenger door, holding his hand out as he did a faux bow.
"M'lady."
Giggling, you rolled your eyes and settled in the car as he made his way over to the driver's seat. As he got situated and started the vehicle, he glanced over at you.
"What's going on? You've been so... distant lately."
Sighing, you turned your head towards the window.
"'S nothing, Steve."
He pulled out into the main road, leaving the mall further and further into the distance. "You've been so weird, it can't be nothing."
"I'm fine." You smiled through your teeth, covering the true gnawing at your heart that plagues you. He spared a glance in your direction, huffing as he knew you were lying.
"Sure."
The rest of the car ride was quiet, only the sounds of the radio quietly buzzing some song in the background. Steve tapped his fingers to the beat as you focused on the drive in front of you, cars passing as he made his way to his house. With every block, the dim street lights hit your face, exposing more and more of the true emotional state that you were in. It was becoming too much to hide now.
You hadn't noticed as he pulled into his driveway, a dark house with no one home in front of it. Your passenger door suddenly opening startled you.
"Jesus, Steve," you mumbled, getting out as you smoothed down your work uniform. "Give a girl a warning, yeah?"
"Oh, quiet. 'S not like you would've heard it anyways," he had a grumpiness to his voice, something that only confused you even more. What was wrong with him?
You followed him through the front door, lights turning on as he made his way to the kitchen. A beer was placed in your hand, and you looked down to inspect it. The cheap kind, PBR. So it was going to be one of those nights.
Steve loosened the collar of his uniform, letting it hang open as he cracked open his own drink. He was still staring at you, as you leaned against the counter.
"You're really not going to tell me?" His brown eyes were huge at this point, his bottom lip jutting out as he pouted in your direction. "Please, yn?"
You took a swig, grimacing at the bitter taste of the beverage.
"'M just stressed about graduation," you answered, twirling your drink around as you focused on the exposed part of his chest. A tuft of hair poked out there, you imagined what it would feel like between your fingers.
"What about it?"
You broke the focus, walking closer to him so you could take a seat on the counter beside him. He turned his body towards you, forearms leaning on the white tile as he looked up into your eyes. This angle allowed you to see into the deep brown of his irises, the overhead light hitting in a way that made your breath catch in your throat. They were the same eyes you remember from childhood, his long lashes that framed them always so right.
You took another sip of the drink in your hand, thumb playing with the tab at the top of the aluminum. His hand reached out, touching the top of your thigh where your navy blue shorts ended.
Nervousness settled over you as his thumb began to rub small circles on the exposed skin.
"Come on, you could tell me. Anything, remember?"
The look in his eyes and his begging was hard to resist. You had always told Steve your secrets, your worries, no matter how ridiculous they seemed to be.
You sighed, ready to let this burden off of your chest. Now or never, yn, what's the worst that could happen?
"I'm just worried about what's coming next," you said, finishing off your drink this time. The empty can hit the tile next to you, ringing throughout the kitchen. "Things changing, people growing, leaving."
His brow furrowed, confusion crossing hit features. He stood up, settling in closer to you. His eye level was right below yours this time. You could smell his cologne mixed in with the faint smell of ice cream. So enticing, yet you had to ignore it.
"Are you talking about us?" His hand left your thigh, moving to place his hands on either side of your waist. His waist sat in front of your crossed knees, body leaning slightly as he looked into your eyes. Heat settled into your core, your body reacting to the proximity of him between your legs. "You know, nothing's ever going to change between us. We've always been best friends, always will be."
And there it is. The pit of your stomach gnawing as that realization settled over you. Best friends.
A familiar sting hit your eyes as you began to blink it away. You thought you were being inconspicuous, but he noticed.
"Hey, hey, hey." His voice was a whisper now as he stepped closer, pushing your thighs apart. His hand reached up to touch the side of your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye.
Concern was etched all over his features. He searched your eyes for an explanation, his calloused hands rubbing over the delicate skin of your face. He was so close now, you could lean in and kiss him. Feel the true pout of his lips against yours.
"...Steve," you muttered, shaking your head. "I was just hoping tha- you know, what, nevermind."
He was patient, waiting for your words to come out as the two of you sat in silence. Your mind was racing, thoughts of King Steve with a million other girls floating around. Why tell him when he can whoever? You've been friends for years, why would he want to hear this now when there has been years where something could have happened.
"Tell me."
You sighed, taking a deep breath as you closed your eyes. It was easier to think with them shut, the beautiful boy in front of you no longer being a distraction.
"I was hoping things would stay the same between us," you blurted out. Your heart was racing, word vomit on the tip of your tongue. "Things would stay the same in college, but I know they won't because you're going to be focused on the next interesting person, the next beautiful girl who's not me and is so much better than me."
He didn't answer, but you felt his hand leave the side of your face. The pit at the bottom of your stomach growing more. You kept your eyes closed, finding comfort in the darkness.
You chose to continue, "I just hear everyone talking about King Steve this and King Steve that, and I just can't help but think about how much worse it will be once you're no longer forced to be friends with me."
Suddenly, you felt a mouth on yours, slightly chapped lips brushing against yours quickly. Your eyes flew open, staring at the boy in front of you.
Steve had a smile on his face, eyes drifting over your shocked face. Your mouth opened and close as you find yourself at a loss of words. You found the words, a single syllable escaping your lips before he shushed you.
His hand returned to his cheek as his lips found yours again, moving with a fever that was missing previously. He seemed more urgent, needy in this moment as his hands began to explore your body.
Before you knew it, your legs were opening wider, inviting his body even closer to your core. You felt drunk, despite the single drink running through your veins. It was intoxicating, feeling his mouth against yours and his fingers in your hair.
Is this real life? You couldn't help but think you were imagining it all.
Steve breaks the kiss, fingers dancing at the bottom of your shirt, threatening to lift the hem there.
"Can I-?" He began to lift it as you nodded vehemently, lifting your arms. It came off your frame, exposing you in your white bra. The cool air hit your body, quickly replaced with the heat of his body.
His lips finds your jaw, slopping making his way down your neck. Pants escape your mouth, your vision becoming blurred as his fingers find your waistline. His thumb dipped into the band of your pants, teasing to expose your edge of your panties.
"S-steve, please."
All you saw was a flash of his hair as you were pushed back slightly, the pants beginning to slip down your hips. You adjusted the way you were sitting, allowing Steve the ease to free you of the restriction. He leaned down slightly, placing sloppy, open mouth kisses to your chest bone, hands returning to their residence of your hips.
You placed a hand in his hair, pulling him back up to meet your lips. He smiled through the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip. Your legs wrapped around his waist, bringing him even closer as you felt his bulge rub against your heat.
You muttered a fuck as he began to rub against you, cock hard against the restriction of his own pants.
"Want more, baby?" He whispered, hand coming up to grab at your breast, squeezing in all the right places. You threw your head back in ecstacy, hips shooting up to rub against him even further. Your hands found his own waistline, pulling as you struggled to get them off.
"Patience now, my love."
His sweet words made you ache even more, grinding your heat against the shape of his cock. The free hand remaining on your hip moved, brushing over the wet spot you were making in your panties. A small shout escaped you, nerves throbbing at the feeling of his thumb brushing against your clit over the thin cloth.
You looked at him, all his glory as he stared hungrily down at your panties. This thumb was brushing over your clit through your underwear, watching as the wet spot increased.
"Is it that, baby," he breathed, glancing up at your spent face. Nodding, you spread your legs further, mewling as his index finger dipped them to the side. He brushed over your fluttering hole, paying attention to the way you arched your back.
Eyes closing involuntarily, your breath hitched as you felt his two of his fingers playing at your entrance. Your thoughts jumbled, focusing only on the feeling of his digits slowly pushing in. You mewled, white heat crossing over your body as they pushed in further, beginning to slowly pumping in and out of you.
"Fuck Steve, m-more." You couldn't hold back anymore, your hand reached up to grab his at your breast. Blinking your eyes slowly, you stared into his hooded ones, watching as he removed himself from you. He fumbled at his waistline, pushing his pants low enough to free his cock, swollen and dripping with need.
You reached out to it, pulling him closer. Your lips met again, a desperate connection of the moment as his fingers rake through your hair. He tasted like spearmint and the remnants of his beer, breath heavy against yours as his cock rubbed against your center.
He pushed your white panties to the side, his cock in hand as it rubbed against your wet entrance. You couldn't get enough, arching your hips so you could feel him closer, hard and firm.
He guided himself within you, stretching you wide. You couldn't tell if it was him or you at this point, throbbing with desperation as your hips bucked wanting to feel him closer.
Steve stopped at the hilt, hips flush against yours as your legs locked behind his thighs.
"Good?" He asked, breath heavy at this point and words incoherent. He went back and forth between squeezing his eyes shut and trying to stare into yours. Your tightness throbbed around him, clouding his thoughts with the feeling of wanting to take you fast and rough.
"Yes, baby, more."
You pulled him even closer to you, the hook of your ankle rubbing against his pants bunched up at his thigh. Only now did you realize, he was still wearing his uniform, wrinkled and bunched up, exposing only his groin and the bottom of his stomach. The desperation of this moment fueling him to see you in your glory, wanting to have access to you as fast as possible. You watched as he reared his hips back only to push into you once more, slowly but feverish in their movement.
He began to roll his hips, urging moans and pants out of your mouth. He kisses them away, swallowing them as you become louder with each thrust of his hips. The pleasure fills your body, drawing you closer and closer towards that breaking point as his hips continue.
His hands are at your hips, fingers gripping your ass as you sit on the counter, sliding back and forth with each movement he makes. His nails leave little half moon marks as his knuckles grow white, fucking into you relentlessly.
Ah, fuck and yes, baby and you like that escapes his mouth, mouth agape as he watches you unfold in his grasp.
You're almost pissed off at him, at yourself, for not doing this sooner. But the thought escapes your mind, the feeling of euphoria dripping over you as he brushes over something deep inside you. Shock waves took over you as a white heat came over you, exploding and tingling throughout your spine.
Your mind was clouded as you rode through the shock waves, pulsing around him as he thrusted deeper, closer towards his own peak. A low, guttural noise escaped him as you felt him release deep inside. His chest heaves as he rides through it, burying his face into your shoulder. A bite mark was left in its place, the feeling of stickiness between your thighs as he slowly pulled out of you, leaving you with a small moan.
He brushed over your slit one more time, over stimulation coursing through you with a small yelp.
Steve's face was buried into your shoulder, nipping and kissing at the bitten skin there as the two of you struggled to catch your breath. His skin was slightly damp from the high, his chest rising and falling against yours.
"Can I tell you something, yn?" His voice was in a whisper.
You nodded, losing all words. He chuckled, leaning his head back so he could look you in your eyes.
"I knew you felt that way," he supplied, coy smile on his face. Your eyes widened as you hit his chest, laugh erupting out of him. "I felt the same."
"Steve!"
"I was just waiting for you to make the first move. I can't be King Steve when I'm with you."
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deancaskiss · 5 months
Text
cas is the one to lean in for a kiss; soft and tender and sweet against dean’s lips. but when he goes to pull away, something yanks at dean’s heartstrings. he grabs at cas, holding him steady so they’re breathing each others air. he’s not ready for the kiss to end. “one more,” dean murmurs against cas’ mouth, stealing another kiss. “one more,” he repeats a few seconds later, making cas smile against his lips. “one more, one more, one more.” and cas pulls dean closer, keeping his mouth against dean’s as he murmurs back, “you can have as many kisses as you want, dean. forever.” this time, cas kisses him deep and slow, as if there was no rush and nothing else in the world except them with their lips pressed together. “one more,” dean whispers, and cas kisses him again.
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tulgeywould · 2 years
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50 for bruce
Bruce Wayne + #50: Goodnight Kiss
The sun threatening over the horizon was Bruce's sign to head back to the tower, but he waited until the signal was turned off before changing into some baggier clothing. Helmet on, he slung his leg over his motorcycle and began the familiar journey back home. Alfred was sure to be waiting on him, as well as… Nicolas.
The involvement of someone other than his family butler was odd to him, but not unwelcome. Nico was intelligent, and helpful to aspects of life that he and Alfred weren't knowledgeable on. There was also something comforting, knowing there was another living being who knew of his life as Bruce Wayne and as The Batman.
The world around him turned into white noise as he drove home, and he didn't truly regain focus on his surroundings until he was in the garage, pushing down the kickstand and removing his helmet. The "bat cave" was quiet, and Bruce went through the routines. He wiped off the makeup around his eyes, his contacts, and his backpack and heavy jacket rested next to the elevator as he headed up. Alfred would get at him for not putting things away properly, but he couldn't help himself. Bruce was… excited to return to Nico, who was no doubt waiting for him upstairs. They kept themselves up just to wish him a good night, to pet his hair until he fell asleep beside them. The thought made his cheeks warm.
The rooms were quiet as he made his way through his home, and he was pleasantly surprised as he entered his bedroom. There they were, laying across his bed as they focused on something that was on their phone. He wondered if it was news of his escapades, or something involving either of their respective businesses.
He took some clothes waiting for him at the entrance of his bedroom, changing out of his "drifter" outfit while they were not looking. He was left in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. Bruce made his way across the room with soft steps, the only sound the creaking of the mattress as he knelt down on it. Nico's head turned towards him, and they smiled sweetly. His heart thumped in his chest, face already warming simply at how those red eyes looked at him.
Nico hadn't been paying attention to the world around them until the bed moved, and they were happy to see Bruce was home relatively unscathed. Setting their phone down, they leaned up quickly to examine his arms or face for any forming bruises.
"How was tonight?" They murmured, voice soft. They hadn't slept, not yet. They wanted to wait until Bruce returned, to be lulled to sleep by the stories he had to tell.
"Nothing special. Your average vandals, thieves… Showing up is enough to take care of them." Bruce's voice was tired, and Nico raised a hand to his cheek. They could feel his stubble, rubbing their thumb over his skin.
The two of them allowed the silence to continue as they looked at each other, their nightly ritual of intimacy as they simply enjoyed the other's presence. Bruce was not a talkative man, and while Nico could be chatty, the early hours of the morning were a time where they appreciated the silence.
The smaller of the two smiled, and moved back to allow Bruce to lay beside them. "Well, now… You're home. You should sleep."
"Alfred will want to discuss," Bruce began, even though he did truly want to do nothing but stay next to them. Nico hushed him, getting themselves comfortable.
"I asked already. There's nothing dire on the schedule. We can sleep."
Bruce felt his eyelids getting heavier by the second, tempted by the darkness of the room and the warmth of his partner's body. They were so soft against him. Without attempting to resist the urge, he reached his arm across their form and pulled Nico close until the two were flush against one another. They made a noise in response, but did nothing but nuzzle back. It made him want to smile. How in the world had he ended up with such a lovely person, snuggled up next to him in bed?
Before he allowed himself to be enticed by the notion of sleep, Bruce leaned over their body. Nico looked up at him, their eyes as tired as he felt. Yet they were smiling, cheeks pink. He couldn't help himself as he ducked his head, kissing them gently. He could feel their hands on his chest as they kissed back, their lips as plush and nice as he expected.
The kiss lasted a few moments, the only sounds in the room the brief respites for when the two of them needed air. Bruce wished he could lay there and kiss Nico all day, without any other cares in the world.
Only when the two decided that they had enough of each other did they lay back down, both now underneath the silk covers of the bed. Nico was cuddled up against his chest, and Bruce wrapped his arms around them. He fell asleep to the quiet sounds of their breathing.
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etherealyoungk · 7 months
Text
━☆ first kiss with seventeen: wonwoo
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♡ first kiss with seventeen series ♡ masterlist ♡
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paring: wonwoo x reader
warnings: kissing, fluff
wordcount: 1.1k
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you've always been a romantic. okay, maybe a hopeless romantic. and reading all the romance books that you did definitely did not help at all. in fact, it made you even more hopeless.
and with all the kiss scenes you read, it only made you wonder what it would be like to kiss wonwoo. you and him had taken things slow and you were more than happy. but once in a while the thought of wanting to kiss wonwoo, a real kiss crept up into your mind. you'd made up countless scenarios in your head about it and just thinking about it made you want to kick your feet in the air and punch a pillow. so how exactly did you end up being pinned to the wall by wonwoo?
it's only when you come back to your room after having to go receive a parcel that you find the book that you were reading in wonwoo's hands. normally you wouldn't mind but you had stopped midway during a kiss scene, and somehow the thought of wonwoo reading that made you shy for no reason. you observe wonwoo as he reads the words on the pages and he looks up, noticing you. “i didn’t realize kisses in books were so dreamy”, he says as he hands the book over to you when you step closer to him.
“yeah, they kinda are. some of them are really cute and sweet”, you say, trying not to sound like a hopeless romantic as you tell wonwoo. “some are really really cute”, you emphasize, sitting down, thinking about all the cute kiss scenes you’ve practically engraved in your mind. “do you want to recreate it?”, he asks, without skipping a beat, making you blink up at him, processing what he just said.
“what?”, you ask again and he pushes his glasses up his nose bashfully before repeating, “do you want to recreate it, the kiss scene?”.
you blink up at him like a deer caught in headlights and the thought of it makes you smile but you try to hold it in. but wonwoo doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth lift up.
“love?”, he prompts again tilting his head to the side as he observes you.
“really?”, you finally ask softly as you stand up. and he nods. “tell me baby, anything you want”, he encourages, noticing how shy you’ve suddenly gotten.  so wonwoo decides to take matters into his own hands.
wonwoo reaches out his hand and takes the book from your hands, opening the page to the kiss scene he read earlier. his brows are slightly furrowed as he reads the scene and then looks back up at you. he puts the book back down on the bed before walking over to the door. “what are you-“, you don’t finis your sentence as wonwoo proceeds to lean against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.
“hi”, he says, saying the same line the character in the book had said. you let out a soft laugh as you walk closer to wonwoo, standing in front of him. “hi”, you say and he smiles sweetly back at you. he moves off the doorframe and steps closer to you, reaching out as his arms caress your waist, gently pulling you closer towards him. and before you know it, wonwoo spins you around and pinned against the wall.
“wonwoo”, is all you can mumble as you look at him, before breaking eye contact and looking down, getting flustered. he was so close, so so close that you were pretty sure wonwoo could hear how fast your heart was beating right now. his thumb brushes against your chin as he tilts your head up to look at him. “you’re making me nervous”, you mumble in a whisper as your hands lay loosely around his neck. his hand moves up to cup your cheek as his thumb gently caresses your cheek softly looking at you, never once breaking eye contact, which was making you even more nervous.
“am i doing okay as the role of a book boyfriend so far?”, he asks and you almost chuckle at his questions. “y-yeah you’re doing exceptionally well”, you reply softly, getting distracted by the sight of his lips that are so so close.
“someone’s getting impatient i see”, he teases you, when he sees where your gaze is, making you bite your lip and give him a small glare, which makes him chuckle.
he leans in and your eyes flutter shut, and you’re waiting in anticipation but it’s only when you peek one eye open that you see wonwoo is looking at you with a stupid silly smile on his face.
“wonwoo!”, you whine, protesting. “baby, you’re so cute right now”, is all he tells before pecking your cheek. “i'm just doing what i read, trying to act out a book boyfriend now and you’re going to get mad at me?”, he asks playfully.
“but that wasn’t in the scene, you’re just being a tease”, you complain and the sound of his chuckle is like music to your ears, you can’t even be mad anymore.
he kisses your cheek again and looks at you before finally closing the gap between your lips as he kisses you. it’s a gentle, soft kiss and he pulls away a little too soon for your liking, making you pout in confusion.
“that wasn’t a kiss”, you tell and he just looks at you. “care to show me how a kiss is then?”, he asks softly, whispering against your lips and that’s all you need to pull wonwoo forward by the collar of his shirt and kiss him again. he slowly moves his lips against yours and if wonwoo wasn’t holding you, you’re sure that you’d melt in his arms right that moment. his hand encircles your waist tighter, pulling you closer as he kisses you a little deeper, with a dizzying passion.  his lips were soft against yours and when you pull away, you were breathing a bit hard, trying to catch your breath as you look at wonwoo, who was still so close to you, his nose brushing against yours.
“so", he starts. "how would you rate me on a scale of one to ten for being a book boyfriend”, he asks, making you smile as you lean your head back against the wall, looking up at him.
“eleven out of ten, you make the perfect book boyfriend….and the best part? you’re all mine”, you tell and he grins, leaning in to capture your lips once again.
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taglist: @daisycheols @naaaaafla @joshuaahong @slytherinshua @fairyhaos @rubywonu @wqnwoos @wheeboo @icyminghao @kyeomyun @minhui896 @gam3bo1z @graybaeismytae @musingsofananxiouspotato @thehao8 @cheiyoma @keiyx @novalpha @fallingforshua29 @txtandroll @nishloves @kokoiinuts @writingsbybirdie @hauvits @jennimisu @dahliatopia @prpldahy @ryujineebae @onedumbho3 @weird-bookworm @yo-wassup-boi @idubiluv and @odxrilove - tysm for beta reading this for me <3
drop an ask or comment if you want to be added to the taglist for this series!
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omi-boshi · 19 days
Text
"What are you doing?" Kiyoomi asks from his place on the bed, wary.
His arms part as he makes space for you to wiggle your way onto his chest. He breathes a laugh at your antics, watches as you take his face between the palm of your hands. The grin that tugs on your lips is a little lopsided, a little cheeky.
The bright red of your lips catches the light and it is the last thing he sees before you begin your assault.
Kiss. On his lips.
Kiss. Right cheek.
Kiss. Left cheek.
Kiss. Tip of his nose.
Kiss. The moles on his forehead.
By the tenth kiss, he is roaring in laughter. The kind of laugh that you've only ever heard when he's with you. It's loud, it shakes his entire being, jostling your body that lies on top of his if not for the arms he has wrapped around you to keep you in place.
It's a little ugly, a little silly the way he snorts in between laughs, but it is offset by the unbridled joy so clear to your ears. The kisses you leave by the corner of his eyes are distorted by the way they're crinkled in laughter. From there, his grin is a permanent fixture as you continue to fill every gap on his face and neck with kisses.
As the tint on your lips slowly fades, his laughter does too, mellowing down into a dopey little smile, eyes bright. You pull back to admire your handiwork, your smile just as dazed.
One arm unravels from your waist to cradle one of your hands still cupping his cheeks. He nuzzles into the touch, eyes tracing over your features, gaze so warm you feel it on your skin. It moves you to lean in once more, to kiss him on the lips.
Longer this time.
And Kiyoomi is more than eager to reciprocate. It's heavier, wetter. More breaths, gasps, and the occasional bites. There is an attempt at deepening the kiss further; Kiyoomi's tongue tracing the seam of your lips. But the giddiness that thrums through him pulls his grin wider. Every time your teeth clash, it makes you laugh into his mouth. It is in truly vain that you try to kiss properly.
When you finally pull away, it is to Kiyoomi mirroring you and cupping your cheeks with both hands.
"What was that for?" He is breathless as he asks. The look on his face no less lovestruck than it was before. The tint on his lips was the most smeared compared to all other kiss marks on his face. It makes you giggle, amused.
"I just wanted to kiss you, is all." You kiss the palm of his left hand to emphasize. "And I wanted to try out the lipstick I bought today." You nod towards the tube sitting innocently on your nightstand.
Kiyoomi shakes his head, chuckling to himself.
He hugs you to his chest, rolling you onto your back, placing himself on top of you. He reaches for the tube of lipstick, smile growing mischievous.
"Guess it's time to return the favor."
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lueurjun · 9 months
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ੰ first kiss with enha | ꒰ heeseung , jay ꒱
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enhypen reaction—there comes a time in a lot of relationships where the next step is taken, and here’s how the nerve-racking first kiss experience went for you and your mans.
version two: jake and sunghoon.
. . . . . . . ꒰ HEESEUNG ꒱ ,,
he’s a feral boy
we’ve all seen that man flirt and hip thrust HE IS FERAL
so naturally you’d assume he’d be laid back and confident about the whole thing
but when it comes to you, he’s a pile of blushy mush that just cannot comprehend the fact that he’s even managed to bag you
in his eyes, you’re out of his league
bc you’re a gorgeous gemstone! have faith in yourself bby ur wonderful
and without realizing, you actually intimidate him a little
bc ur just so goddamn perfect
an angel if you will
so the idea of kissing you just seems… scary
because what if he doesn’t live up to your expectations and you decide to leave him?
he is terrified of disappointing you so it actually takes him a while to gain the courage
which panics you because why in the world is this man not givin u a big ol’ smooch?
does he not want to kiss you?
omg does he think your breath stinks and is revolted by you?
you’re both massively overthinking it
lil silly billys
and none of you want to bring it up because how do you approach that conversation?
like you can’t just ask him ‘oh yeah, hee, how come you don’t want to kiss me? are my lips crusty? does the idea of locking lips physically repulse you?’
anyways you’re a couple months in
and things are getting serious so he can’t be that sickened by you
and you haven’t run for the hills yet so you clearly don’t want anyone else
finally. he’s had enough
this man is tired of staring at your lips imagining them on his own
HE IS YOUR MANS HE DESERVES SOME SUGAR
to be honest at this point you’ve given up hope on him kissing you, and you’re much too nervous to make the first move
so you just kinda go with the flow
which naturally means that the last thing you were expecting when sliding your cute lil self into his car
was for him to lean over, cup your face and plant one tasty smooch on those lips of yours
you literally froze for like two seconds but once realisation settled in, you kissed that man back in milliseconds
heaven. cloud nine. neither of you wanted to pull away
unfortunately, you had no other choice
so taken aback by the sudden kiss the only thing you could think to do was share a giggle before you held up a bag full of treats for your date
gosh ur both so awkwardly adorable i can’t
“i got us snacks for the car ride! but you taste better.”
you’re so cute stop the little blush on your face after saying the cutest yet lamest thing ever
heeseung cannot resist tugging you back in for another little lip tasting sesh after that because you are the cutest thing to ever exist
he is an absolute simp for you AS HE SHOULD BE
. . . . . . . ꒰ JAY ꒱ ,,
despite being the perfect man material, he isn’t the most experienced when it comes to relationships
like he’s had a partner before, but it was never serious so the milestones just weren’t that important to him
but it’s different with you
don’t roll your eyes at me
idc if that’s cliché okay. it’s jay. you allow it. lose the ‘tude baby cakes i know you rolled your eyes
anyways:)
everything that didn’t seem so important in his last relationship suddenly seemed a thousand times more nerve wracking this time
because losing you is on the line and jay knows that he doesn’t ever want that to happen
suddenly he wants everything to be perfect because you deserve the world and nothing less
hahahahasleepingontheroadtonight
jay absolutely refuses to give you a shitty first kiss
it has to be romantic. and it has to be amazing and if you don’t like it then he will slide down the wall
clutching honey to his chest
sobbing
same tho that’s a mood
anyways yeah he wants to make sure that you get the most romantic kiss ever
meanwhile you’re not too fussed because it’s jay and no matter what, kissing him would be a dream
unless he’s like a really bad kisser but he’s perfect so he’s not
he’s taking his time to prepare everything
like he plans a candle lit dinner, rose petals, the finest food
the whole shebang
lemme be you for one day i beg
but two days before the dinner is set to take place
YES HE HAS A FULL SCHEDULE
the two of you are hanging out like normal and the vibes are immaculate
and you both want to kiss each other
the timing just seems right
but jay, the little dum dum, is fighting with himself
because does he really want all of his hardwork to go to waste?
you’re both leaning in but smoke is practically pumping from his head due to how fast his mind is racing
seconds away from those luscious lips
HE PULLS AWAY
absolute dummy
you’re hurt and embarrassed obviously
bc you just got flat out rejected and that’s just horrifying but it’s fine it happens to us all babe
and jay is panicking because well… you look like you’re going to start sobbing
“is there something wrong with me?”
the crack in your voice. the pain in your eyes. THE QUESTION ALONE
oh dear jay feels like he’s going to throw up
this is NOT how he wanted any of this to go
you start packing up your things to leave which is fair because you’re embarrassed
and jay is trying to figure out what to say or do
and then he just decides to be honest because honesty is the best policy
so you’re about to step out of the door when he gently grabs your arm
“look i’m sorry. i really really really wanted to kiss you… it’s just… i have been planning a perfect dinner for weeks so it would be perfect. i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, i just wanted it to be perfect for you.”
i’d fold honestly
i have no shame
and neither do you apparently because you can’t help but crack a perfect little smile
“so do i have to wait for this dinner or can i kiss you now?”
BOLD
you’re an icon
jay just kinda smiles sheepishly
and then he caresses your neck and tugs you into one of the softest, most amazing kisses you have ever had
firework inducing even, toe curling, heart thumping-
sorry i’ll stop
the point is, the kiss is AMAZING
maybe you didn’t need a fancy candlelit dinner to make it perfect after all
perhaps, all you needed was each other
i’m legit sobbing someone pls send help
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
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steve pov
He felt the pull at the same point every night.
As soon as he'd managed to get himself into the shower, he thought about him.
He looked at his bottle of shampoo and thought about how it wasn't next to Steve's.
He looked at the body wash he shared with the guys and wondered if he would ever get to steal from Steve's body wash again.
As Eddie got into bed, he listened to the guys sitting at the front of the shitty tour bus they could barely afford joking around, planning their futures as rock stars.
He tried to think like them, tried to think about the future he always wanted. He was so close. They were so close.
They were recording their second album. Their first was barely professional, barely even got produced, but this one. This one would change everything for them.
The more time they spent recording it, the more Eddie realized he didn't want to be singing into a microphone if Steve wasn't there watching him with that look.
The look that said 'I want you to kiss me until we can't breathe when you get off stage' and 'I know every song is about me already, but let me help you write a million more' and 'I love you, I love you, I love you.'
The look that was fading from his memory with every passing day.
If he could go back to the conversation that led to this, he wouldn't have it at all. He'd stay with Steve, he'd tell the guys he needed some more time, maybe they could just go on a state-wide tour of some bars and see what happens. Maybe Steve would warm up to the idea of leaving.
Or maybe they were meant to share this distance, to grow apart like this, to yearn for each other in ways they didn't even when Eddie was almost dead on the ground of another universe and Steve was begging any god that would listen to just 'save him, take me, he can't die.'
And maybe tomorrow Eddie would call him. Maybe tomorrow he would ask if Steve wanted to come to a show.
Maybe tomorrow he could find a way to get that face looking at him from the front row or backstage again.
Maybe tomorrow he would get to admit to Steve that his dream doesn't mean shit if he isn't under the same lights as him.
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