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nyxthejinx · 1 year

Note

Heya!

I just saw your open for request post and want to commission an Cyno x gn!reader, please? :) a fluffy and spicy drabble would be lovely. Maybe smth like.. the reader is good friends with Cyno and Tighnari but the reader went on a journey thru teyvat and met the Aether (traveler) on their way and since then they traveled together and been thru much so they have a connection ofc and then when the reader and Aether visit sumeru and they meet Cyno - he will get all jealous? Cause he sees how close they are and he fears that he missed his chance with the reader? But obvsly its not like that and yeah. A lil bit of making out at the end, please? cause Cyno needs to let out some steam after his jealously :^)

Thank you for doing requests btw!

FIRST. It took ages but I was able to sell my soul in exchange for inspiration only recently, I'm so sorry. SECOND thank YOU for asking, I wasn't sure about this until the 3am among us potion made it work. THIRD beautiful pfp, akaza bb fr i love him a normal amount I promise. FOURTH it's 5 am, literally I'm not kidding, I tried to proofread and all that but I don't even know what's my name anymore so I'm sorry for typos and shit. FIFTH I hope It makes sense, enjoy 💀

𝐓𝐖: Fluff and obviously spice (making out, vague allusions to the dirty deeds ;) ), use of petnames (dear, love), lemme know if I missed something.

𝐅𝐭.: Cyno, Aether (but he's your homie) - GN!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k

𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨: Rendezvous - Little Mix (god this song is such a banger)

Cyno fears nothing.

"Cyno, this is Aether."

Cyno fears one thing.

He'd felt so happy after reading your last letter. You said you'd be back in a few days with a special surprise, but honest to Archons the fact you'd be coming back to him - for him, he’d wanted to say, but not dared to- was enough of a present.

He surely wasn't expecting that this "surprise" would be none other than the Traveler who's saved Sumeru, though. A charming blondie who drifts a bit too close to you, in Cyno's opinion.

"We met in Liyue, he's amazing." You smile, squeezing the blond's shoulder. "He's a well known traveler across Teyvat, even in regions he has yet to visit!"

"I just help those who need it, not that much of a big deal."

Aether blushes and rubs his neck. Aether blushes. And you're touching him in a way that only close friends do.

It's fine, Cyno wants to think. You're allowed to do whatever you want in your life, he sure as hell won't stand in your way. He already stepped aside back in the days, as you excitedly told him how one of his worst fears came true you were leaving for adventure.

Everything to make you happy.

But his mixed feelings would always get in the way and unleash endless internal conflicts. It wasn't simply about not having you around, it was some kind of longing sitting inside his chest and screaming at you not to go.

It was the distance that made him realise: he was, and still is, far too in love for his own good.

And Aether could get in the way of that.

"We meet again, Traveller." The General nods, pushing down such shameful thoughts. "I'm glad to see you are both fairing well."

"It's all thanks to [Name], actually." Aether nudges you in the ribs. "They're really helpful, no matter the task."

You smirk. "Oh, what an honour. The traveller complementing me, a common, mortal nobody."

"Hey, I'm not that annoying!"

"Maybe. But you sure snore at night. That is annoying."

"Wh-! I don't. I know for a fact-"

No, you don't sound like close friends. You sound like a married couple. What just happened in this handful of months? Did Cyno hesitate too long and lost his chance? Now that he had decided to expose his deepest feelings?

"You guys! Paimon is starving here."

Paimon's shrill voice cuts short the bicker, as the Matra's jaw clenches. Good time, credits to Paimon, but seeing the two of you stroll towards the tavern didn't ease the knot in his chest the slightest.

Your laughter wasn't addressed to him nor to his uncanny jokes. He wasn't the one making you smile.

He was the moon and he'd just been eclipsed by the Traveller's brightest light.

Dinner was... Gut wrenching, to say the least.

You'd known Cyno long enough to tell apart his feelings even as he wears that stoic facade of his. While Paimon and the Traveller didn't have a single clue about the situation, you could feel his dry gaze burning holes on both of your figures, as if the sun had ascended back to the skies and everything around had turned desert.

He was feeling something you'd never quite seen within him.

It took you a bit too long to realise that the fair, lawful General Mahamatra was jealous, of all things.

He was so subtle with it, carefully hid his resentment in his voice and choice of words, in his gestures and mannerisms. But worst of all he didn't propose a single joke during the meal, not even when you laid the chance on a silver platter for him.

That had your mind reeling for the rest of your time together, and even afterwards, as you waved goodnight to Aether and Paimon. As you walked these streets you still know by heart with your dearest friend by your side.

As you choked on the thick air surrounding the two of you.

Maybe you should've left Aether out of it, for the first day, at least. Cyno hadn't seen you in so long, perhaps he didn't like the way Aether inadvertently hogged your attention the entire time when all he wanted was to hear about your adventures.

Yeah, you'd been an idiot for that one.

But, you still had an ace up your sleeve. Quite literally. One that would grant you his forgiveness and hopefully help you say the words to him.

Because of course, it took you less than a week far from him to realise you were smitten for this dad-jokes-spitting being.

You patted your side as you approached Razan Garden in all its glory, and sighed at the feeling of the rectangular box still inside. You could do it, you had to! It took you months of preparation, you wouldn't let it go to waste.

"[Name]." Cyno's voice was soft, as if to match the atmosphere lingering in the marble gazebo. He'd stopped a couple steps ahead of you, but didn't turn to meet your eyes. "My congratulations and best wishes."

You alt abruptly at that. Where the hell is it coming from?

"Uh, thank you?" You quirk a brow. "Did I do something special without knowing?"

He chuckles under his breath. Yes, you are special and he's grateful a being so perfect can exist in this world and is part of his life. But he would never tell you that.

He turns instead. His eyes rich with emotion, gentler. "I'm beyond glad that you found the right person out there, [Name]."

Oh. Oh.

"I only ever hoped for your happiness and well-being, during this period of time."

"Cyno, wait a sec-"

He takes a step forward. "If I had to voice my honest thoughts... I must admit I couldn't find peace of mind knowing you would've been out there alone."

"Cyno-"

"But I see you're perfectly capable of handling your own," the man sighs, shakes his head. A small smile curves his lips. "Just like you've always done."

"Oi-"

And then he's placing loose hands on your shoulders, as if he's in some kind of automatic mode and has to finish the speech at all costs.

For a moment you think he's gone absolutely senile. "Still, I'm relieved you have someone who can watch your back, now. He's a kind-hearted person, level headed, the best you could wish for-"

"Archons' fucking sake, Cyno! Will you hear me out a damn second?"

Cyno almost jumps back, taken out of his weird reverie, but you're quick to trap his face between your hands. You're close, closer than you'd wanted to, unfocused in your frustrated fervor. So much his breath warms the apple of your cheek, as it wasn't burning already.

You take a breath and force more words out before you can cower away from it. "I get where you're coming from, I neglected you today and acted like a shitty friend. And I'm sorry for that."

You lower your gaze to the ground. Now or never. "But it's you, okay? It's always been you! I could travel across all Teyvat and even Celestia, but it's you and just you. So drop that thing you're on about please."

That was disgustingly corny. But hopefully did the trick, you guess.

A beat passes. Then two. You don't see his face, you don't have the courage to take a look at the mess you've made. Him being jealous didn't mean he liked you, not necessarily. Maybe you should've given him the TCG deck and call it a night.

Another beat goes by.

"So... You and Aether are not...?"

He's gonna be the death of you.

You groan, a guttural sound that shouts exasperation from the deepest parts of your chest. All rationality goes to hell as you drag him closer and slam your lips together.

You're kissing him. Archons you're kissing him-

There's no time for Cyno to react. You're pulling away in a frenzy, hoping the ground will open for the Abyss to swallow you right now. You kissed one of your friends only to prove that you're single, and in fact attracted to them. Could it be worse than that? More humiliating and disrespectful to him?

"I'm so sorry!" You wave your hands around. "I shouldn't have without your permission! Are you okay?"

You search his expression for any sign of discomfort; he looks absolutely flabbergasted, but somehow weirdly composed like a bronze statue. His lips -god you'd just kissed them- are parted in the slightest, his eyes wide and yet still. The calm before the storm.

He's showing yet another sentiment you've never really seen him wear.

"Again." Cyno says.

You blink. "Uh?"

You feel his hand slither behind you and circle your waist, as he pushes your body closer. His skin is running hot like the desert's sands and you curse at his choice, or better lack of clothes.

His silver hair falls like a curtain, his eyes sharp. Dangerous, even, if you're not careful enough.

"Please, do it again. I think I've just seen the gates of Celestia." He mutters close to your lips.

That sounds more like him. You can't help but snort at his choice of words, shuddering all the same. The implications of said words dig a flaming hole in your chest.

"How can you be so smart, but dum dum at the same time?" You whisper, one hand traveling to the back of his neck, the other busying itself with stray locks of hair.

And you dip in for another kiss. One you sigh into, one that can be called kiss, actually. It's slower, but full all the same, scorching hot, pushed by feelings that were repressed for too long.

Cyno locks his free hand at your nape, never possessive, although firm. Small sounds bubble in the back of his throat when you bite at his lower lip, then backs just enough to mutter a couple words.

"Can you really blame me? It feels like a dream coming true." He pecks your lips, then presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes. "I was scared you'd chosen him."

"So, all those pretty words from before?" You exhale a breathy laugh, cradling his jaw.

"I'd give away everything I have and am if it meant you'd be happy. I could only wish you the best and support you." Cyno smiles, pouting after the next words leave his mouth. "But it doesn't mean I would be fully content with the outcome."

Your brain has turned to mush. This man is too dangerous for this world, a hazard for you and your poor little heart that feels like exploding. It's a threat to your common sense and rationality. But most of all, it's damaging your brakes.

What he's telling you should not be legal.

"Archons, come here." And you kiss, and kiss, kiss again and again. You map each other's bodies with your hands as if it was the last time you'd be seeing each other. You press your mouths, clatter your teeth, intertwine your tongues.

You're straight up devouring in the dead silence of the night, in a public space. But as indecent the sounds you're both making are, it feels as if the world around blurred and blended into nothingness.

You've found yourself with your back to a wall, somehow, a couple buttons loose, skin hit by the cold air of the night. You -surely more clothed than Cyno- are an absolute mess, whereas his appearance doesn't falter much even at your hands' mercy.

It's unfair, he's unfair. He has no right to be this damn perfect even in the face of chaos.

"Not here, Cy." You manage to utter. "Let's go home."

His hand stops halfway up your shirt and he detaches from your neck with a small grunt, red splotches forming already thanks to his work. He doesn't sound pleased with your choice, but wordlessly complies, knocking you off your feet and picking you up so easily it's unfair.

And embarrassing.

You deadpan. "Seriously?"

He finds your eyes, suddenly composed as if nothing happened. "You seemed quite unstable on your legs, dear."

You're audibly gasping at that, whacking his chest and glaring daggers. "You!"

"Let's continue it home, now."

Cyno is really going to be the death of you, in many ways you'd never even considered.

It's almost dawn when you finally let yourselves snuggle up to each other in the peace of your home. More like his home, since yours needs more than a bit of cleaning after months of disuse, but he's made it clear already: everything that's his is also yours.

Cyno traces patterns on the bare skin of your arm, as you card through the knots on the back of his head, formed after... Recent activity. He seems too lost in your touch to even be awake, when his fingers stop.

"What was the surprise, in the end? Was it the confession?"

Your hands still, your face tightening at the question. When did you even... Oh, right.

"Would you be satisfied if I said yes?"

He pinches you.

"Owie!"

"You should know that what has been of this night matters more than anything, to me. Of course I would be satisfied." Cyno raises a thin brow, as his hand starts to descend agonizingly slow, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. "Was I not clear enough about my feelings? Perhaps you need a reminder-"

"Whoa, hold your horses, General." You chuckle, planting a kiss on his forehead before leaning over to your bedside table, where your bag had been thrown previously. "There was no way I'd come back empty handed after all these months, yanno?"

You pull out the wrapped box, place it in his hands. Cyno stares at it quizzically, but opens the packaging with care after you nudge him in the side.

Oh, his expression is so, so priceless. Cute, too cute, so cute you could die right now on the spot for excess of sugar in your blood. He looks like a kid who's just received the toy he oh so wanted and ranted about.

"It's not just any deck," You explain. "It's a deck made of cards I've gathered around from different regions. Some were more challenging to get, but I've been playing with you for a long time, haven't I? Of course I'd win."

Meanwhile Cyno takes the liberty to browse its contents, and just like you said, they're not from Sumeru. He's barely ever seen them, some are literally unknown, and he's ecstatic at the sight. How long did it take? How much effort?

"This is…" there's no right term to describe it. "Wonderful. You are wonderful, [Name]."

He goes for a hug and you feel like your bodies fit perfectly in each other's arms, as if it was meant to be. Right now, all that matters is this. And it will always be for all you care.

You smile into his shoulder, smooch the base of his neck. "Is it too early to say 'I love you?'."

"I would actually say we're late, Love."

"I love you, then, you Dum-Dum."

"I love you."

"..."

"You are like my asthma. You just take my breath away."

You make sure Cyno slams his head as you throw him off the bed.

DON'T copy/repost my work. REBLOG instead! ©nyxthejinx

#Genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #Cyno x reader #cyno #genshin Cyno #genshin impact #gn reader #Genshin drabble #genshin fluff #Genshin Impact smut #cyno smut #Genshin smut #| Genshin Impact 🌓 |#| Nyx Writes 🌑 |

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mosaickiwi · 5 months

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(Please forgive any mistakes) If it's permissible, is it okay to ask for a drabble about celebrating the birthday of an MC with severe anxiety, clinginess, nervousness about attention and fear of abandonment? (REDACTED: *talks several million times about how he loves, appreciates and cares for MC and how he will never leave them* MC: really? I don't annoying you? Aren't you tired of me with my desire to hug for several hours in a row every day? You're not just putting up with me, are you?)

(excuse me, please)

(late) HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! Hope you like it~ Thanks for being my first request <3

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~Anxious, Clingy, Nervous Angel~

“You did all this for me?”

[REDACTED] looked up at you for a moment with a gentle smile. He easily lifted a large box from the trunk of their Corvette, muscles flexing under dark sleeves as he answered, “There's nothing I wouldn't do f’you.”

As you turned and looked back out over the quiet evening waters of Lake Bluemoss, you still couldn’t understand it. Pale fairy lights strung back and forth in the trees along its lakeside, the white projector screen perched at the shore, the picnic blanket littered with cushions right in front of it, and a large hammock hanging off to the side seemed to let his words ring true.

“Really?” you asked again, rooted in place from when you first got out of the car. The paper bag of take out in your hands was warm, steam rising to your already heated face.

“Absolutely,” came his reassuring voice from behind you. “Happy birthday, Angel.” They snuck a kiss on your cheek as they walked by, smiling at the way you somehow blushed even deeper before he turned to walk into the clearing.

Nervously, you trailed after him. As he settled on the blanket and began taking out a few items in the box, you mumbled quietly to yourself in disbelief. “I thought you’d be tired of me by now.”

“You’d have a million more birthdays before there’s even a chance of that happening. N’ it still wouldn’t,” he said with a laugh. They carefully pulled out a small projector, a speaker, and a decorated cake box. A small peek over his shoulder alerted you to the several wrapped gifts left inside the box.

You eyed the spot next to him on the blanket for a few minutes while he fiddled with the devices and his phone. Instead, you took a seat on a cushion farther away and placed the takeout bag down. As you began emptying the bag, you could feel their eyes on you. All of a sudden you felt the cushion being pulled along the blanket, taking you and the plastic container in your hands with it.

“What’d y’sit over there for?” he innocently asked, though the playful look in his eyes didn’t escape your notice. The cushion stopped moving just as suddenly as it started.

You bit your lip before trying to answer, “Oh, I just thought—” The cushion moved again.

“Thought what?” It stopped once more.

“I thought—” you paused as they pulled your cushion the tiniest bit closer yet again.

“Yeah?” he teased. You kept quiet until the dark-haired man had dragged you all the way to their side, practically into their lap. “Just looked like y’wanted to sit here, love.” [REDACTED] took the takeout container from you and set it to the side.

You looked up at him worriedly. “You’re fine with it?”

They pulled you into a tight hug and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “‘Course. I wanna be this close t’you at every possible second. That’s never gonna change.” He seemed to relax once you finally wrapped your arms around him in return. You both lapsed into a short silence, their fingers drawing light circles on your shoulder before he spoke again, “Ready to pick a movie? We’ve got a while before your birthday’s over. But we can stay out here ‘long as y’want. I promise."

#14 days with you #14dwy #14dwy redacted #momo reqs #hehehe :3c

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meguwumibear · 1 year

Text

Give Us Each Day

pairing: wolfwood x reader word count: 1,300

This is just a short little drabble I wrote because I literally cannot stop thinking about Nicholas D. Wolfwood and wanted to explore his character a bit. Ignore the pacing and any errors/typos lol I don’t think there are any spoilers about anything in this, but i do briefly touch on Wolfwood’s past and his connection to the Eye of Michael.

The thing about people is they aren’t capable of change.

Wolfwood has seen enough of No Man’s Land and its citizens to understand this. It’s a dog eat dog, big fish eat little fish world out there. Humans are lost causes. Especially adults. They sin and they sin and they sin.

Maybe children are exempt from this. Maybe not. He tries not to think too hard about his own childhood, about what he did and did not have.

He did not have parents. Or, rather, he had no relationship with them. He understands that for him to have been born, one of the planet’s many deadbeat duds must have knocked someone up. Jesus himself was half flesh and blood on Mary’s side. No one can escape a mother’s womb. So, yeah, okay, someone conceived and gave birth to him, but that’s about all his parents are to him. A sperm donor and an incubator. Nothing more.

What he did have was siblings. Lots of them. Brothers and sisters from December and neighboring towns. He was the eldest of all the children at the orphanage. He did what he could to look out for the others, sleeping in their beds with them when they had nightmares, teaching them how to whistle, kissing their fucking booboos. For a while, Wolfwood thinks that he was born to be a brother. And maybe he was. Maybe on a different planet, in a different universe, the ships don’t crash and a brother is all he ever has to be.

On this planet though, he becomes something else entirely. An orphan. A priest. A punisher.

Wolfwood is only human after all, despite everything, including all the fucking drugs the doctor pumped him full of. He forgets sometimes just how young he really is. So many of his formative years passed him in an instance. He just grew and grew and grew into the monster man he is today.

A man made monster. A monster made man. Or are those two things one and the same?

He gets confused sometimes. Can’t understand the difference. Perhaps a monster is a type of man or a man a type of monster. They’re related somehow. They must be. He knows this because he is both. Or at least both of those two creatures live symbiotically inside him.

That’s why the Eye of Michael sends him on these types of missions; that’s why they sent him on this mission: he is a monstrosity and a mortal. The best person for this particular job. To guide and protect Knives’ precious baby brother until Vash is ripe for the taking. Knives says they call his brother Vash the Humanoid Typhoon, but to Wolfwood he’s just an ignorant lamb inching closer to slaughter.

The Eye may call him the Punisher, but this job makes him feel more like a shepherd.

He hasn’t found the Typhoon yet. There are too many leads to follow. Towns are filled with unfounded rumors and listless gossip. No one seems to know what Vash even looks like. Some people think he’s twelve feet tall. Other people think he has a mohawk.

Wolfwood knows this all to be false because he knows exactly what Vash looks like. He’s seen him—or rather he’s seen his monozygotic twin. Vash will look exactly like Knives in another man’s clothes. He’s been preparing himself for the sight.

With no end to this wild goose chase in sight, Wolfwood stops at a saloon. The townsfolk here seem to think that Vash passed through two nights ago, but the place is in too good of shape for that to be true. Good shape in No Man’s Land is relative of course, but there’s no way a typhoon hit this city. All the buildings are still standing, crooked and cracked from the dry desert air.

He’s a heavy weight. He thinks it has something to do with the drug they shoot him up with. It helps his cells heal or regenerate or some shit. It takes more liquor than it should to get him drunk which means blacking out is a luxury he can’t afford. He’s five beers deep before he finally starts to feel a little buzzed.

Days he’s more man than monster, he plays a little game with himself. He finds someone who looks like they could be his mother or father and makes up a story about their lives after they abandoned him. He imagines they get rich selling water. He imagines they lost everything in a drought. He wonders if it was worth it. He supposes life’s always easier with one less mouth to feed.

Tonight he feels a bit more monster than man. The hunt is starting to get to him. He’s down to his last cigarette and if he doesn’t find Vash soon Knives will inevitably send him on a job he’ll hate more than this one. The waiting makes him feel itchy. Or maybe that’s just the nicotine withdraw.

“Need a light?”

He hasn’t lit the cigarette yet. Just has it tucked between his lips. He’s been chewing on the tip of it a bit—a bad habit he developed once he started smoking, but hey it kept him away from his fingernails.

“Please,” he says. He’s got his own lighter tucked away in his jacket pocket. It’s unclear to him which part of him makes him lie. Could be the man, could be the monster. In his experience, they both get quite lonely.

You strike up a match and hold it out for him. He leans in, cups a hand around the flame and inhales. The acrid taste of something burned and bitter fills his lungs. This has always felt right to him. The burning. Fire is just as cleansing as water.

“You a drifter?”

“What gave me away?” he asks.

You smile as you grab his empty bottles. “You’re a priest, right? Town priest skipped out ages ago. Said the land was forsaken and that nothing holy could grow here. Interesting last words considering he was the one doing the all forsaking. There’s holiness here. In the sand and sky and people.”

Wolfwood slides the cigarette out from between his lips and exhales a bit of smoke.

“What gave me away,” he asks again, flicking soot onto the table.

You shoot him a look, eyebrows raised. “Who else would carry around a cross like that?”

He hums. “Didn’t see a church on my way in.”

You’re smiling again. “You’re sitting in it. After the father skipped out it was converted to this saloon. People can take communion any time now. Not just during Sunday prayer.”

Someone at the back of the bar calls your name, yells something to you about doing your job, so you finish clearing away his table with a roll of your eyes.

A few minutes later, you bring him a beer that he didn’t ask for and certainly isn’t going to pay for.

“You devout? You looking for me to say some kind of prayer?”

You shake your head and laugh. “Oh no, I’m not a believer. Just doing my job. Gotta keep my patrons happy. Drink up.”

He wraps his hand around the bottle. It’s warm. Condensation has gathered on it’s slick surface. He swipes at it with a thumb. “I think I’ve had my fair share of alcohol. Was thinking of graduating to something headier.”

“Oh,” you say, resting your elbows against the table. “And just what were you thinking of graduating to?”

Wolfwood feels the smirk form on his face, wide and toothy and dangerous. You’re a distraction from his mission, but he can’t ignore the yearnings of the man and monster inside of him. Right now their desires align. Right now they’re hungry. Right now they want.

“You.”

#wolfwood x reader #nicholas wolfwood x reader #nicholas d wolfwood x reader #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun x reader #trigun stampede x reader #trigun fic #trigun stampede fic

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tuulikannel · 7 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

So I already got this twice so I guess I should try to get an answer out ^^;; It's... really a tough task though, but here we go! I can’t really pick a clear favorite of them all, so they’re just in random order. (Or actually, I guess they're in the order in which they've last been updated/posted.)

1. Caught Between, my Hikaru no Go fic where Sai's a real kid with dreams of turning go pro, an intersex condition, and not... the greatest parents in the world, I guess. (His mom has grown on me though.) I've talked about this fic a lot before, so I'll just say that I'm so glad I finally started posting it and that I've managed to nearly reach the end - still need to wrap things up, but at Sai's finally where he wants to be in live, so in that regard, all's fine.

2. blind alley, Assassination Classroom fic which, as usual for me, is basically about Shuu's relationship with his dad. The summary is rather short: "One day, Gakushuu decides to end it all. Just, all does not end that easily." I've said it before, I don't even know why I like this fic so much. Maybe I'm just a sucker for sad things? I don't think I've ever said anything about the title, have I? Cause this is a rare case where I didn't have to struggle to come up with a title only to end up with something mediocre. I was originally going to name this Dead End, cause stupid puns & Shuu being in a sense stuck in one, but then realized that blind alley refers to the same thing, plus it has the word "blind" in it... and you could say Shuu is blind to the truth for a good while there. (why I decided not to capitalize it, I don't know. Sometimes things just look better like that to me.)

3. oneironautics, AssClass & The Sandman crossover (no knowledge of Sandman required.) Again, Shuu and his dad are in the spotlight. It's just that I like Gakushuu, I found Gakuhou simply... intriguing. What's going on his brain? How did he really go so crazy? I've never felt like Ikeda's death would have been quite enough for that. They hadn't even been in touch for years! So, yeah, I guess one goal for me in this fic was to create him one potential background where all the problems have their roots. Also, writing dreams is fun. ^^

4. Ok, those first three were clear, but now it's getting hard. I've two random Hikaru no Go fics in mind here... maybe I'll pick the one that showcases my fic-naming abilities, It’s the Zombie Apocalypse! XD Its birth was absolute randomness, once upon a time in the hikago community on Dreamwidth people were playing Let’s Five on Hikago Day. Someone asked who'd be the five characters who'd survive the zombie apocalypse, and reading the answers I was attacked by a rabid plotbunny. This fic... it was just so fun to write. And I like how it's got a true ending and a bad ending (the reader's choice determines which you get.) (And, dammit, I'll mention the other fic I was just considering too: Chika-go, the Hikago & Dresden Filess crossover. Another fic that was really fun to write. And it has my first ever battle scenes. XD Also, I like the title for various reasons. ^^)

5. Then, finally: The End of Silence (The All Paths Lead to God of Go Remix), yet one more Hikago fic. This is perhaps a bit surprising choice, but I can’t help it… there’s something about this little fic I really like. It’s a remix, as you see (tho in all honesty it’s more like a sequel than a real remix, I feel), of Flonnebonne’s drabble The Silent Path where Akari, not Hikaru, was the one to end up with Sai. I had always wanted to write about Akari more, but somehow never had any inspiration. This (though I'm sure it's not exactly what anyone expects XD) fixed that.

#I feel like The House should have been mentioned in this too...#assassination classroom #hikaru no go #my fics #asks

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e-m-p-error · 4 months

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˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚Winter Countdown To The New Year Challenge Day 30˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ - Valentino

30. Write a drabble/short fic in which your muse does something cozy during a snowstorm.

Under a cut for length!

---

“Mmm, Voxxy, it's fine!” Valentino laughed jovially, sitting on his couch with both of his long legs folded to the side. Most of his weight was on his hip and side that leaned against the arm of the couch as he looked up at the huge flatscreen on the wall.

“Bunny...” Vox warned, his eyes narrowing a little bit, “You know Daddy already told you 'n—'“

”Don't!“ There was an odd plea in Valentino's voice as he cried out, shaking his head. His upper right hand flailed a little out in front of him, ”It's just one! I have plenty more to open on Sinsmas!“

”And if we're snowed in until Sinsmas you'll run out. It's only the fifteenth.“

”You can get me more presents, then!“

”...Bunny.“ There was a crackly sigh in Vox's words, and Valentino huffed with a pout forming on his lips.

”what. I just want to open one little present.“ Today. Tomorrow they'd see where he'd be. Vox supposed this was a little bit his fault for leaving Valentino's gifts for him at his house.

”And what happens when you want to open one tomorrow?“

”I open on—“

”No.“

”Daddy.“

”If I let you open one tonight, you will not open anymore until Sinsmas.“

”Sinsmas Eve.“

”What? Val, I just—”

“I get to open one on Sinsmas Eve every year. This one is just early!” Shaking the small box by his head only earned Valentino a gruff sigh from Vox. This man was going to kill Vox someday, but the wry smile on his lips told Val he didn't mind it.

“Fine. But this is it, Val. If I have to replace more than this one present, you're in trouble. Do you understand, Bunny?”

Val sighed, shifting a little, ashing his cigarette in the crystal ashtray nearest him. Taking a drag as he thought it over, he finally blew a few heart-shaped smoke circles before turning his head back to look at Vox.

“Okay. Yeah, sure. I'll be in trouble, yeah. You can't stay mad at me.”

“Maybe not, but I can put you in your place if I have to.”

“I know, I know.” Tugging the brilliant neon blue bow from the box, Valentino tore into the paper immediately like a kid on Christmas. What he'd heard in the box, and the shape of it, suggested it was a jewelry box. Most likely another fancy necklace just for him! Vox knew him so well.

Popping it open, he gasped at the sight of the beautiful golden-weaved necklace with its intricate design and brilliant gems. Dotted with brilliant blue sapphires in Vox's own colors, and bright red rubies, the whole thing was an ostentatious show of Vox's genuine love and affection for his moth.

“Oh, Destello!” Valentino crooned, and Vox melted a little at the sight of the happy moth turning into a happy puddle on the couch, “It's beautiful!”

“I wish I could put it on you. It's going to look beautiful.”

“It was expensive?”

“The most expensive piece you've got right now. For now.” It was a promise for later that kept that warm smile on Vox’s face.

That made Valentino squeal, kicking his feet in excitement.

“I won't wear it until you can put it on me!” He promised, delicately touching the largest red ruby in the shape of a heart at the center, “Then we can go out.”

“I'll take you out on the town any night you waant, Bunny, you know that. Daddy loves you.” His breath caught in his throat, but he knew it to be true. Valentino didn’t even hesitate anymore.

“I love you, too, Daddy~” Valentino's purr colored his words as he leaned forward with a happy smile and gentle sigh.

#HEADCANONS ➽➽➽#MY WRITING ➽➽➽#And If You Get In My Face Then You’ll Get A Taste Even God Would Run Son (ναℓєитιиσ)#And When His Edges Soften His Body Is My Coffin (Valentino ♡ Vox)

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arlecchno · 1 year

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IM SO GLAD YOURE ALSO LOVING SUMMERS FIC IM LIKE ACTUALLY SO IN LOVE WITH IT (insert me going batshit insane) alsooo do look forward to more stupid banter in the middle of supposedly serious situations , they are the best and there are more . stan mcs little water creations tbh

bleh , honestly all my other writing works are old and i think pretty shitty at this point but i can link you to some if you really want (or i could write you a short story / drabble , i feel like thatd be less embarrassing on my part lmao , lmk if you want that) about my games though ... 1 2 3(WIP) the first two are well over a year old now , plus primarily unedited , so dont mind any possible grammar mistakes or generally terrible story flow (i swear ive gotten better since these 😰) and the third was also created last year (for a school project) , im slooowly chipping away at finishing the code haha ...

I ACTUALLY COMMENT ON MY OWN DOCS AS WELL !!! there arent much of them because .. well i havent wrote much outside of my private dms LOL

i also think it is insanely fun to comment on my own work

aand ive contacted my friends (aka my two and only true loves /p /hj) about the kinnie thing .. and one of them sent me this to fill out

youre not wrong actually haha , am i that easy to read ?

im an ambivert , i dont like seeking out social interaction irl unless its one of my close friends or im just that bored , but i do get really loud / energetic when i am comfortable (i think you can tell that by how much goddamn energy i put into these asks) but my "social battery" still drains relatively fast i cant handle people very well lmao honestly , my and cynos reasoning for making our terrible jokes align a bit , although most people (apart from my irl friends apparently ???) dont find me intimidating , my main motivation when i slip in puns is to get people to laugh at how terrible they are , because im well aware theyre pretty bad (or all my friends just have the same broken sense of humor i do) . but yeah , i guess now theres two people on my genshin kin list now why do i kin both of the artificial humans in the game -

lets play a game where we ask eachother random questions , so its easier to end things off lol , got a window in your room ? if so , rate the view it has !

- jellyfish

yes the summers fic is so good thank you very much for recommending me it 😖🫶

AND YOOO THOSE GAMES ARE CUTE HAHA i liked nel and akira!!! also impressive how you did 2/3 of them in scratch,, i've had very little experience with it from like a few years back when i took a computing class and damn was it hard as hell 😵‍💫😵‍💫 so kudos to you man

glad i'm not the only one who comments on my own fics on docs LMAO and like you said, it's insanely fun!!!

the way that you're technically all of the above in the bingo 😭😭😭 and that drawing is sooo pretty!£8483£!!£! is that you or an oc of yours? (either way i've been eyeing it ever since i started typing here, hehe)

sooo i basically predicted what you're like irl?

i think for the most part it's because i'm a bit similar to you in some sort of ways, i'm only ever close with my closest friends and can get tired by interacting with people sometimes 😞 but the downside is that everyone finds me scary HAHA 😭😭 my friends had told me a bunch of times on how intimidating i look, when i really just have a normal expression on my face... apparently they said i always look like i have murder on my mind 🚶‍♀️

you now have another addition to the kin list, congrats 🤗

GREAT GAME!!! i do have a window in my room but it doesn't really have a great view... i'm currently living in a shitty apartment for the time being and the only thing i see from the window of my room is my neighbour's unit from my apartment complex 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ so i'd probably give it a 3/10 T-T

now, a question for you! what's the most silliest thing that you currently own? (it can be a purchased item, a gift you got, etc)

hope you're having a great day jellyfish ^^

#h answers #jellyfish <3

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bridgyrose · 3 years

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You knew this was coming. Horror/Angst Prompt: 235, Rosebird.

(Was wondering when someone would use this. Guess it's time to hurt people)

235: “I miss you… I really miss you. I wish I could have saved you.”

Summer: *sitting at the edge of a cliff, sighing* I… I should've been there to help you. To keep you safe.

Summer: *pulling out the shattered remains of her weapon, a gift from her lover* I… I miss you. I miss you soo much… I should've been there to save you. To keep you from falling to the dark.

Summer: *looking up to the sky, the veil parting enough to watch Raven talk with Cinder* Raven, my love. Im… Im so sorry I failed you. I told you I'd stay with you forever and now we're a world apart. I tried so hard…

Summer: *reaching out to the image of Raven she saw, her own hand bloodied* Please keep yourself safe.

Summer: *feeling a wind pick up, watching her body turn to rose petals as they flew off in the wind* And please keep our child safe.

#rwby #skits #summer rose #rosebird rwby #rosebird #angst drabble #yeah its a bit short of a true drabble #a final goodbye from Summer to Raven #angst

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writingfics-passingtime · 2 years

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Sleepover (Alibi Drabbles #3)

TASM!Peter x female reader fluff

This is the third in a short series of drabbles based on my fic, The Perfect Alibi

Word count: 3000 exactly !!!

CWs: mentions of sex, otherwise SFW

💜 thank you to the amazing @raylan-c for making headers for this drabble series 💜

Statistically, cold and wet weather deterred crime. You didn’t actually look this up to confirm it until you’d heard the anecdotes from Peter, who’d told you first-hand that nothing stops a petty thief like rain or sleet. Surprisingly, it was true. The thunderstorm that’d been raging in New York City for the past four days kept Spider-Man mostly grounded. Good thing, considering Peter had been looking a little worn out and probably needed a bit of time to rest.

You two went about your normal routine of studying, eating, and occasionally hanging out with friends together, but it was so weird to see him say goodnight and then not go out the window in his blue and red webbed suit.

The inches upon inches of rainfall ended up being a convenient thing in more ways than one, since your roommate Olivia ended up staying in the room for two nights in a row. Her girlfriend was out of town and bug-bombing her apartment while she was away, so Liv ended up finally using the accomodation she paid for semester after semester.

That first night was pretty fun, actually. You two got along well enough but just didn’t spend a lot of time together, and you ended up unexpectedly staying up until three in the morning laughing and joking and catching up.

The second night was a bit different. Not necessarily bad, but… well, Peter knocked on your door at 10:52pm.

“What’s up?” You cracked the door just enough that he could see Liv was on her bed watching some YouTube video with her headphones in. He winced, scratched the back of his head, looked over his shoulder and then back to you.

“Jeremy’s put a sock on the door.”

“Uh oh. Wait… is that what I’m hearing above me?!”

“Maybe,” he grimaced. “Mind if I crash on your floor?”

“I’m sure Liv would be cool with that,” you tilted your head to invite him in, then shut the door.

Your roommate looked up. “Hey, Peter.”

“Hey, Liv. Sorry, my uh-… Jeremy, is, um-”

“His roommate’s having sex. Is it cool if Peter crashes on the floor?”

She paused, then looked up at the ceiling. “So that’s what that noise was… should’ve guessed,” she shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t care,” she smiled, then laughed a bit. “But you don’t have to take the floor. You guys have been dating for almost a year. It’s not like you haven’t christened her bed a thousand times over-”

“Ho-kay!” You clapped and blushed before clearing your throat and refusing to look Peter in the eye. “I’m ready for bed.”

“I can see that,” Peter’s voice with a cheeky, teasing edge told you from behind. “Cute panda pyjamas.”

“Shut up about the pandas.”

Once you’d directed Peter to the mouthwash in the bathroom and given some track pants and a T-shirt of his that you had stashed for his returns from patrol, you went over and pulled back the covers. Strangely enough, your heart was pounding just a little bit.

“Thanks for being cool about this,” you smiled gratefully to Liv, who shrugged and smiled back.

“Of course. I know you’d do the same. Just control yourself tonight, huh?” She grinned and you threw a throw pillow at her, allowing it to fulfil its true purpose. She smirked, tossed it back and then put in her white noise earbuds that she needed to sleep.

When Peter emerged from the bathroom, he put his clothes in your hamper from pure instinct and then walked over to where you’d slipped between the sheets of your twin bed. You smiled apologetically at him, but he just grinned back since he’d seen your shy blush. So instead, you rolled your eyes and scooted more towards the wall.

“No funny business,” you said sternly, just loud enough for Liv to hear. You know, to keep up the charade.

Unless you count that time Peter stayed with you all night when you were near-inconsolable, he’d never actually spent the night in the same bed as you. Once or twice, when Jeremy put a sock on the door and it was still there when Peter returned from Spider Duties, Peter had snuck back into your room and slept on top of Liv’s bed. Even then, you only knew about those time because he’d told you the next day.

He slipped into bed next to you and the resulting seconds were you two frantically trying to get comfortable, while trying to not show how frantic you were, as if you’d done this a hundred times before. But the bed was so small and Peter so lanky that you nearly fell into awkward giggles as you smushed yourself more into the wall to give him some space. He turned on his side, away from you, but then turned back to face you. He mouthed “Turn around.”

You furrowed your brow but did as he suggested and turned on your side to face the wall. No sooner had you done that, did his arm slide over your waist and pull. Your eyes widened as you slid the few inches across the mattress and your back came to a gentle rest against Peter’s firm and muscular chest. You couldn’t deny it was infinitely more comfortable than trying to give him space.

“Is this okay?” He whispered. You swallowed hard, and nodded. It didn’t have to be weird… right? You two held hands all the time. He’d sometimes kiss you on the side of the head. It never felt awkward or forced or-… yeah. It always felt comfortable. You smiled, but your heart beat a little faster. Which made your cheeks heat up, knowing Peter could hear it. Again, his spider-senses were good, because he somehow knew better than to tease you for it at this point in time.

You heard Liv reach over and turn off the lamp, and then it was dark and silent.

Snuggling a bit more comfortably into Peter, you let out a relived sigh that this all seemed to be working out. Peter, understanding your breath, gave you a little squeeze and then relaxed down into the mattress. It was kind of nice feeling him relax cause it meant he’d been a bit nervous too. That somehow made it better. Or perhaps it would become something to overthink.

“Are you sure this is okay?” His whisper was bated and concerned.

You nodded and whispered back, “Is it okay with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

It went silent for several long seconds and you felt a small amount of tension still there, so you decided to tease him a bit to make him feel more comfortable.

“You’d better not snore.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” he teased right back. You scoffed in a whisper.

“I do not snore.”

“Like a chainsaw.”

“Liar!” You whispered louder.

His chest shook with some subdued whispered chuckles. “I’m not lying. You ever heard a Harley engine revving?”

You pulled your foot forward, and then shunted it back into his lower shin. He responded by swiftly hooking his ankles around your own shins to trap them in place. “Kicking me won’t make you sound any less like a lawnmower.”

“Ugh!” You grunted and pulled on your legs, freeing one of them, while you slapped once at his forearm.

“What’s wrong?” He teased. “A little sensitive about sawing logs?”

“I’m warning you,” you licked your lips and blushed harder, trying to come up with some sort of witty comeback.

“You’re like a sleeping dragon. With a blocked snout.”

“I’ll make you pay,” you seethed, squirming a bit in his hold to free your other foot and elbow him lightly in the stomach.

“No need to get violent. Hey, should I call you Snoozy? Like one of the seven dwarfs?”

“I’ll take Snoozy over Dumpy,” you shot back, then elbowed him again. He responded by scoffing and prodding his fingers in where they lay at your side. It was soft, so you squirmed, but it was just enough to make his point, so you softly groaned, “You never fight fair.”

“And you never fight very hard.” You could hear the smirking grin on his words, and you scoffed.

“It probably doesn’t feel hard to a guy who can stop a bus with his hands,” you hissed. “And you never let me get revenge.” You turned back around and slumped into the sheets. “It’s not fair.”

Peter chuckled and relaxed himself back into the bed. You bit your lip to stop from smiling too wide as you felt him release more tension against you, against the mattress and the pillow, and release the way he always held himself enough to start drifting off to sleep.

If there’d been a time to overthink the comfort you drew from each other, and the nervousness you both held at this predicament, it hadn’t been that night; you fell asleep too quickly. By the time you awoke in the morning, Peter’s arm was still around you but you’d turned yourself in your sleep to be facing him. You registered that, with a drop of your stomach, before you’d opened your eyes - which is probably the reason you didn’t let out a huge gasp when you opened your eyes to see your face inches from his.

Fighting the urge to hold your breath, or jump out of bed, or shove him away, or all three, you peered over to see Liv’s bed empty and made, her workout bag gone, and the clock tell you she’d most likely left for lacrosse practise that started in five minutes. It was just before seven in the morning, so you didn’t want to wake Peter just yet.

It felt weird, though. Almost dishonest, to stay like this when he was asleep and you were awake. As well as you’d gotten to know him over the last year, something in you still didn’t know if he’d have done this if you both hadn’t been backed into a corner by an unwitting Liv. Strangely, you didn’t know if you’d have done it either. Or if you would’ve. Yeah, you’d definitely be overthinking this later.

So you decided to wake him up.

But... just as you held your breath and were about to move your hand to shove at his shoulder, you saw the perfect opportunity. The opportunity for revenge.

The place where your arm was bent in front of you, between your chest and Peter’s, was the ideal position to attack; one swift move, one half-a-foot distance, and you could jam your fingers right into the slightly-exposed crease under Peter’s arm. His t-shirt wouldn’t provide much protection, and his spider-senses weren’t active when he was asleep… were they? He’d probably - or, definitely - get you back... hell, it was totally worth it.

As you flattened your hand out to ready your jab, Peter sniffed and shifted ever so slightly. You froze. He let out a deep breath through his nose. His breathing remained steady. It was still fine.

Before you gave yourself room to doubt or chicken out, you shot your hand upward to dig your wiggling fingers deep into the softest space underneath his arm. His reaction was hampered by him being roused from a supposedly deep sleep, though instant nonetheless.

His bicep clamped down against his upper ribs, trapping your hand in place as you kept wriggling, then deciding to brave shifting your body to free your other arm to claw against the front of his stomach. He burst into laughter, his knees knocked yours as he instinctively folded in on himself. You laughed along, spidering your fingers all along the front of his shirt as he began making moves to fight you off. Peter’s laughter and your advantage of surprise hindered his ability to catch your hands, so he ducked his head and started shifting backwards. When it began to look like he might fall off the bed, you relented and quickly got to your knees, holding your hands out to start reasoning as to why he shouldn’t counter-attack.

“You deserved some payback after all this time,” you started as he started catching his breath, letting out residual laughs. “You were one-hundred percent owed everything you got, and more, so you should be happy I stopped when I did.”

He looked up at you with an endeared, and somewhat goofy, smile plastered on his face. You, with your outstretched hands that would do nothing to ward him off. Him, with his still-sleepy eyes sparkling at you. Peter just laughed once or twice, sniffed again, then asked, “Do you feel better now?”

You squinted and lowered your hands a bit, feeling your brow lower in confusion. Did he…? “Wait, you…” You let out a breath and dropped your hands, a wry smile pulling at your cheeks. “You let me do that?”

He shrugged. “You were so excited to try,” he laughed. “I couldn’t take that away from you.”

“But- you- but-” You sighed again, the pushed at his knee. “No, I got you,” you said defiantly. “You can’t take this victory from me. You were asleep.”

“My senses still work through my sleep.”

“But-”

“Take the win.”

“No!” You huffed indignantly. “I got you. I can beat you,” you insisted, surging forward with your hands aimed for his sides. He caught your wrists with ease and gave you a half-amused, half-pitiful glance.

“Try that again, and I will retaliate.”

“That’s not fahair!” You whined and pulled your wrists away but he held on with a cheeky grin, keeping them suspended in place and not budging a single inch. Just to make his point that he was far stronger and far more agile that you could ever hope to outplay. “Fine,” you sighed and gave him a look. He released your wrists and leaned over to pick up his phone.

“I got video evidence that you snore.”

“Peter!” You surged forwards again, reaching for the phone to prevent him from mortally embarrassing you, falling over him as you tried to navigate and swipe as he held it out of reach.

“I know what you’re thinking and don’t you da-HARE!” He warned, then gritted his teeth as you tickled your fingers under his outstretched arm. “That’s it.”

You squeaked as he dropped his phone on the table and turned his full attention to subduing his insubordinate bunk-mate, making quick work of pulling you down and settling himself to be sitting over your stomach with your arms firmly pinned to your sides underneath him. As much as you wiggled your hands, there was no hope to reach anything to grab or tickle or shove to get him off of you.

“First, you’re gonna listen to your snoring,” he told you with a mock-scolding look on his face, unlocking his phone then looking back down at where you’d given up struggling. “Then, I’m gonna get you back.”

“Isn’t the video payback enough?” You groaned as he placed the phone by your ear and you shut your eyes tight.

You let out several embarrassed whines and laughs, shaking your head as you listened to the video. Something about Peter’s sparkling eyes and smile, when you’d open your eyes to pout at him, made the whole thing okay. Sure, it was mortifying, but not in the way that you couldn’t laugh at yourself. Because Peter wasn’t laughing at you - he was laughing with you. He laughed with you throughout the minute or two of footage, and then with you when he reached behind himself to knead his fingers against one of your hips.

His spider-senses were good, so he’d managed to put a pillow in front of your face before you let rip a scream of laughter that would’ve woken the entire dorm if unimpeded. Luckily for your sanity, and for your airways, Peter only engaged in a few seconds of payback for your payback, before removing the pillow and laughing with you at your giggly pleas and apologies.

Then, he laughed with you as he swung his leg off and fell back to the mattress beside you. “Thanks for letting me stay here,” he turned his head to face you. “I hope it wasn’t too weird.”

“It wasn’t weird,” you rushed to assure him. “I just didn’t want you to feel weird.”

“I didn’t,” he said softly, still looking at you, you still looking at him. He smiled a bit, which made you look at his lips, but then quickly look away because that wasn’t something you needed to think about. After a few more moments, Peter sat up and turned his back to release several cracking pops from his spine, then planting his feet on the floor and stretching some more. “Wanna grab lunch before Math?”

“Yeah,” you pulled the covers back over yourself and turned to your side. “I’m gonna sleep for a bit longer.”

“Cool,” he slowly cracked the door and listened for any noise he may have missed. Sensing it was clear, he looked back at you and grinned. “See you soon, Snoozy.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, and Peter made a swift exit before you could come up with any sort of rebuttal. After setting your alarm for an hour from then, you snuggled back into the sheets. The bed was still holding his warmth, gifting it back to you until you’d used it all up.

Even though it’s what you were used to, the bed without Peter felt strange. Empty, almost, as you started drifting back to sleep. Or maybe now was the time for overthinking. Time to mull over the quickening of your heart as he pulled you against his chest, or the way he smiled at you when he let you make him giggle like a schoolgirl, or the way his lips looked up close.

The residual tiredness of your late-night catchup with Liv the previous day got the better of your mind, sending you back into a peaceful slumber. Perhaps you’d overthink it another day.

#Alibi!Peter #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter parker #Peter Parker x reader #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x you #marvel fluff #tickle fic #tasm!peter #ticklish!peter #marvel tickle fluff #sfw tickles #alibi drabbles #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter fluff #fake dating

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tennessoui · 3 years

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18 obikin!! Amnesia fics are super fun 🍆

18. One of them wakes up with amnesia (Option A because two people sent in this prompt number and I liked both ideas I saw for it enough to not want to pick) this involves an Obi-Wan that got deaged as well as lost his memories so he's Phantom Menace Obi-Wan. no i will not be explaining. hand wavey drabble fic writing.

The man has not stopped staring, but something in his intense gaze makes Obi-Wan feel safe. Almost. Well. On edge, yes, but. Protected. He has the strange feeling that he’d rather be under this man’s stare than anywhere else in the entire galaxy.

But he knows he’s never seen this man before in his life, the same way that he knows he’s twenty-five and that Qui-Gon Jinn is his Master, that he’s a Jedi knight-in-training, that he hates teas with mint leaves in them, that he’ll never say no to a drink with Quinlan, that--well.

He supposes none of that stuff could be true anymore. Vokra Che, who’s a grown and certified healer master now, had told him what had happened. An older version of himself had touched something he wasn’t supposed to. The closest translation they could find to the runes on the object was that it would transform the user back to their most balanced state. Obi-Wan’s had, apparently, been at the age of twenty-five. He hadn’t recognized the name Anakin Skywalker. He had never been to Naboo.

He throws the rest of his drink back and waves to the bartender to pour him another. He’d gone straight here from the Halls of Healing. He’d had a shadow the entire way, but the man has yet to try to talk to him at all. It’s infuriating.

His Padawan braid swings into his field of vision for a second. He tosses it over his shoulder. He’d been told. Qui-Gon had died. Obi-Wan wants to not think about it at all.

There’s a brush of a Force presence that’s both familiar and completely foreign next to him. The man has finally moved to his side. Obi-Wan’s jaw ticks at his continued reticence, the way he’s observing him but not talking to him. It just simply won’t do, but Obi-Wan isn’t feeling his kindest. He doesn’t want whatever this man is offering him with his silent, dour stares and his suffocating Force signature that keeps trying to tangle itself with Obi-Wan’s own. It’s rude is what it is.

He waves down the bartender and orders a drink for the man. “If you got mint, put it in,” he tells the woman who raises an eyebrow but shrugs, one pair of her arms busy with the drink. When she gives it to him he slides it to the man next to him without even looking at him.

“What--” the man asks. “I don’t--”

“You do tonight,” Obi-Wan says bracingly, throwing back half of his own drink. “We’ve both just lost our Masters, haven’t we?”

The man beside him flinches as if Obi-Wan had skewered him with his lightsaber.

“You are him, aren’t you?” Obi-Wan lolls his head to the side to look at the man threw half-closed eyes. “My padawan.”

“Anakin,” the man says so quietly it’s almost lost to the noise of the bar. “I’m Anakin Skywalker, yeah.”

Obi-Wan takes a drink reflexively, humming in disbelief. “You don’t look like it,” he says consideringly. At Anakin’s confused look, he elaborates. “You don’t look like you could have ever been a Padawan.”

The man pulls himself up, face darkening at the perceived slight. It’s almost too easy to rile him up, but now that he has, Obi-Wan finds he has no interest in fighting this man. Quite the opposite, really. That’s...something. He can’t tell if that emotion comes from him now or the older version of him.

Either way, Obi-Wan has no desire to stand in the way of whatever storm this Anakin is building up in his head, so he turns to face him completely and pushes both hands into his blond hair, raking down the scalp gently before collecting the strands into a poor imitation of the Padawan ponytail. “That’s better, I suppose. The hair threw me off.” He lets go slowly, making sure to tug at one of the strands at the last second.

Anakin has a very strange look on his face, but he’s definitely not angry anymore. He’s even shielding much more tightly now. Obi-Wan smirks into his glass as he takes a sip. He definitely remembers that trick.

“Do you know who cut it?” he asks, catching sight of the end of his braid again. The drinks are going to his head much more quickly than he had intended. Must be all the trauma his body has gone through in the past few days. “My braid.”

“I.” Anakin stutters, caught off guard. “You did.”

Obi-Wan feels like laughing but also a bit like crying. There’s a terrifying emotion rearing its head in his chest. It threatens to swallow him whole. “Well, I suppose I never liked to stand on ceremony.”

“You cut your braid in the fresher and then called me in and braided mine,” Anakin says distantly, as if caught up in the memory. “You wouldn’t let me hold it. I thought you were so mean. But I understood at my Knighting Ceremony. It was a part of me in my hand, a...starmap of all the places I’d been and the things I’d learned during my training. And there was only one person I wanted to give it to in the whole galaxy.”

“Did you?” He asks, taking a sip to hide how important the question is, how devastating the answer could be.

“Well. Yeah. But I guess I don’t know if you kept it,” Anakin cuts his eyes away from Obi-Wan’s and runs his fingers up the long stem of his drink.

Obi-Wan chokes on a laugh. “He definitely did.”

The other man’s face settles into a frown. “You don’t know that. You’re not him.”

“I’m enough of him. I’ve got--some feelings. In my head. Impressions.”

“Of me?”

“Of how he felt about you.”

Anakin’s eyes widen and then narrow with a sudden intensity that makes Obi-Wan want to shiver. It’s like being in the eye of a storm. His hold on the delicate glass in his hand becomes dangerously tight as he leans forward into Obi-Wan’s space, as if he can’t get close enough to him.

“What do you feel when you look at me?” he asks almost breathlessly. Obi-Wan blinks, trying to figure out if he’s being seduced or not. It’s sort of working. It’s all that focus, directly on him. Obi-Wan wouldn’t mind if that’s how the night ended. But sleeping with his former padawan who he can’t remember right now doesn’t seem like the best decision he could make.

But Anakin had liked it when Obi-Wan tugged at his hair. He’d arched closer to him. And now, the distance between them has been eaten away until they’re almost pressed chest to shoulder.

“Safe,” he decides to say, even though the word feels too small. “Sad,” which is mostly true but also an oversimplification. It’s a sort of nostalgia mixed with sadness, mixed with acceptance and resignation. “Warm,” because even after being denied entry to Obi-Wan’s mind, Anakin’s force presence has curled around Obi-Wan’s like some sort of krayt dragon, content to wait and guard and treasure. He leans forward, just until his mouth brushes against the skin of Anakin’s ear. “Coveted.”

Anakin definitely shifts at that, and when Obi-Wan pulls back enough to see his face, his pupils are blown wide.

Swallowing a grin, Obi-Wan swallows the rest of his drink in one go. “Drink up,” he tells Anakin in his most demanding tone, reaching into his pockets to pull out his older self’s credits to settle the tab. “I want to go.”

Anakin obeys immediately, making a face at the taste.

They’re out in the street within a few minutes, Anakin smacking his lips as if still trying to rid himself of the flavor. “I just don’t know why you had to order me that,” he complains, falling into step on Obi-Wan’s right.

Obi-Wan pauses and leans against the very unsanitary wall of the building, spreading his legs wide enough so that Anakin can come in between them. The man doesn’t seem to notice anything different, just steps a bit closer as a crowd of loud party-goers makes their way past them.

“I wanted to see if I liked mint,” Obi-Wan shrugs, raising his hand to rest on the skin of Anakin’s neck. He can feel the way his pulse is beating incredibly fast.

“Why would my drink help you with--”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. He commends his older self for being able to teach this idiot anything, even though he seems to have skipped over important lessons like Recognizing When You’re Being Flirted With.

Before Anakin can finish the thought, Obi-Wan twists his other hand in Anakin’s robes and pulls him forward until their lips are a hair’s breadth apart. “May I kiss you?” he asks because it’s only polite to.

Anakin’s eyes widen and then fall shut as he gives a little nod, finally stepping forward until their bodies are pressed completely together.

At least someone, although he doubts it was the older Obi-Wan, taught Anakin how to kiss. Obi-Wan’s toes curl in his boots as Anakin takes control of the action, moving his hands so one’s pressing against the wall behind them and one’s running up his scalp. Obi-Wan takes his time licking into Anakin’s mouth, allowing Anakin to explore him in return. One of them moans, which seems like as good a time as any to break the kiss.

“Well?” Anakin pants, diving in to place a short kiss onto Obi-Wan’s lips. “What do you think?”

The short answer is that Obi-Wan isn’t. He noses back towards Anakin’s mouth hopefully, sliding his hand down from his neck to rest on his hip.

“About mint,” Anakin elaborates when Obi-Wan doesn’t respond immediately.

“Inconclusive. Need more data,” Obi-Wan tries to kiss him but Anakin’s smiling too hard.

“Then next time you can get the awful drink, and you can get me the Alderaan Sunset,” Anakin is complaining, but he’s laughing too and that’s nice. Obi-Wan thinks that making Anakin Skywalker laugh is one of the best feelings in the galaxy, and he thinks his older self would agree, if the warmth sparking up in his very soul means anything at all.

#asks #my fics #writing #tarantasina #i'm sure eventually they get obi-wan back to normal and he's just sooooo embarrassed that he got drunk and decided to seduce anakin #but like it worked out #anakin makes fun of him too until obi-wan remembers that he kissed back #prompt fill

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kneeeklaus · 3 years

Text

Decadence - Klaus Mikaelson

General Info:

TW: Swearing

Type: Fluff, innocent confession

Summary: At the Mikaelson’s Ball, you accidentally make a comment about Klaus while Rebekah’s around, she figures out you have a crush, and plays the part of a double agent wing-woman.

*I’m pretty sure I wrote this gender neutral

Another day, another fancy event to attend. Mystic Falls was kind of just like that. One might assume that after a while, these formal events may start to get boring, and while that’s generally true, tonight’s event was an exception. The Mikaelson’s Ball.

You knew the Mikaelson family to be quite flamboyant in taste, and so, you assumed they’d spare no expense. So neither did you. You had picked the most decadent of outfits, one that suited your features and fiery personality. You had to admit, you really liked one upping other people, so you went all out.

The outfit was not expensive per say, but carefully crafted, and with no detail spared. As soon as you’d heard of the occasion, you’d started sifting through ideas in your head about what you wanted to wear. The result of your blood, sweat, and tears certainly justified your effort.

You looked amazing. You were well aware of that. When you entered the Mikaelson mansion, in all its’ newly renovated glory, you could tell that many people noticed you. It wasn’t one of those movie moments where time stopped for a moment and all eyes were on you - that would be cliche. But you were perceptive enough to notice the volume in the room lower as you entered.

And soon you were aware that you knew barely half of these people, and not even a tenth of them well. You noticed a beautiful head of blonde hair skate by in between the gaps of heads, and you intrinsically knew it was Rebekah. You followed behind her as she made her way to a small seating area on the second floor.

She whipped her head around at you, she could sense your presence. “Oh, you’re here. No wonder it got so quiet.”

“You noticed that too?” You asked.

“I’m very perceptive. Moving on, you look bloody gorgeous. I’m jealous.” Rebekah whined, crossing her arms and throwing herself back into a leather chair. Her perfect posture slumped.

“Yeah, but you’ve been gorgeous for over a thousand years. I age. I think we can call it even.” You explained. Rebekah snorted and shifted in her seat.

“Very true. How have you been?” She asked thoughtfully.

“Since last night? Probably about the same as the last time I answered that question.” You said, sarcasm lacing your lips.

“Very witty, you are. But truthfully, a human’s condition can change very rapidly in the span of a few hours. You’re my favorite human, I try to check in on you often. And honestly, good things don’t really come to those associated with the Mikaelson name.” She drabbled, her expression growing bleak.

“How sentimental.” You smiled. “Luckily for you, I’m not superstitious.”

You looked around the room as Rebekah got up from her chair and joined you at the balcony’s railing, you both silently observed the guests below. In reality though, Rebekah was droning on about how old these events get sometimes, but you didn’t hear a word she said because Klaus caught your eye.

He looked so good in a suit, and it was a sight you didn’t see all that often. You took your time to appreciate it. His shoulders were wide, and he looked tall, especially when standing next to Elijah. His arms looked slender and long. The white on white on black suit ironically suited him. He looked so extravagant, with his hair parted and pulled away from his face, exposing his beautiful bone structure. The slight shadow of his facial hair made you weak. Everything about him made you weak. He looked so unbelievably good, but your gaze wondered to his lips. “He has such pretty, pink lips.”

And suddenly, you realized that you had accidentally said that last bit out loud. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you finally pulled your eyes away from Klaus to glance at Rebekah’s reaction. Her mouth was slightly agape, and her eyebrows were dipped in confusion. You didn’t know what to say, you were completely speechless.

“Y/N, do you have a crush on my brother, Nik?” She asked, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“What? No!” You said, panicked. And then you realized how stupid that sounded, and also that if you didn’t admit that you liked Klaus, she might think it was Elijah you fancied. “Okay, so maybe I’m slightly fond of Klaus. It’s really not that big of a deal, he’s just charming, okay?”

“Y/N, you zoned out, didn’t hear a word I said, and mumbled something about how pretty you think his lips are.” She raised her eyebrows “You’ve been caught red handed.”

“Look, Rebekah, I always intended to keep it to myself. I’m just attracted to him, that’s all, I’m sorry.”

“What on earth are you apologizing for? Finally, Klaus has a suitor that I actually like!” She said, quite excited.

“Shh, don’t say that out loud, what if he’s listening in? Oh god, I’m doomed. I’m done and-” You paused “Did you just call me a suitor? What makes me a suitor, I don’t have a chance in hell with him.”

“You have a better chance than you think you do, sisterly intuition. Now, come on.” She said as she took your hand and dragged you down the stairs with her.

“What are you doing, Rebekah?” You asked, but there was no answer, only a content smile lingering on her lips. “Rebekah, I think this is a really bad idea.”

But she paid you no mind, she was hellbent on making this happen. Soon, you approached the bar, where Elijah and Klaus were standing.

“Elijah! I think I may have spotted one Katerina Petrova. Do-” He cut her off by immediately walking away, towards the entrance of the mansion. “You stay here, I’m going to go deal with that.” And with that, she was gone.

But more importantly, you were left alone with Klaus Mikaelson. “Fancy a drink, love?” He asked.

You weren’t twenty one yet, but you answered “Yes” without much hesitation.

“What’ll it be then?” He quizzed you.

You really didn’t know much about alcohol, in fact, you were more of a weed person. And so you ordered a manhattan, without really knowing what it was. A short while after, it was served to you, but you took one sip and decided that was enough. The look on your face said it all.

“Would you fancy something a little sweeter?” He asked, taking a step closer to you. You nodded curtly.

He delicately took your hand, and led you away from the party to a dimly lit room, decorated as decadently as the rest of the house. There was wine lining most of the walls, which Klaus appeared to be scouring.

“Ah, there it is. A 1789 Botryis Nobel Rot.” He muttered under his breath as he pulled the wine bottle out of its’ sheath.

“I’m going to be honest, I don’t know anything about wine, but if you say it’s good, then I’ll trust you on that. Although, the 1789 part does make it sound lethal.” You explained, trying your very best to be charming.

He laughed. He laughed, at a joke you made. You couldn’t even recall the last time you’d seen him smile. An asymmetrical grin took its place on your face as you relished in the moment.

He poured two glasses and handed one to you “You do look absolutely gorgeous, might I add.” As he handed off the glass to you, his fingers lingered there, tangled with yours. You smiled and looked down, trying to hide your rosy cheeks which were betraying you.

“Oh, well, uh, thanks. And you as well. I mean-” You stuttered, tripping over your words “You don’t look gorgeous, I mean you do! But there’s a better word for that, I think. Handsome, maybe?” You really wished you could crawl into a hole, and never come out after that. How would you ever come back from that?

And then he said “Sweetheart, am I making you nervous?” And if you weren’t so god damn stubborn, you probably would’ve fainted before he even finished that sentence.

“You? Oh no, it’s- it’s the wine.”

“But you haven’t even taken a sip yet?” He questioned.

“No, I- I mean I’m still afraid this could kill me. I mean it’s way older than I am.” You elaborated.

“Love, I promise that won’t kill you.” He chuckled. And there it was, that cheeky grin that made you go weak in the knees. You nodded and took a seat on a nearby ottoman. He sat down right next to you. He watched you carefully as you took a sip, and adored seeing your expression light up.

“Oh! It’s sweet, I wasn’t expecting that.” You said, delighted. But what you really weren’t expecting was how your knees would graze his from time to time as you sat together.

“Well, it’s a dessert wine, I hoped you’d like it.” He grinned.

“What have you done with Klaus Mikaelson?”

“What ever do you mean?” He asked.

“Klaus Mikaelson doesn’t smile this much, I know him better than that.” You claimed, sipping on your wine “And he certainly doesn’t go out of his way to serve guests dessert wine.”

He shrugged “Klaus Mikaelson also would’ve gone after Katherine, had she been here.”

You had been found out. And part of you wanted never to show your face around Klaus ever again, but a part of you was intrigued. “Well it wasn’t me who said she was around, was it?”

“Don’t be daft, now, I would’ve known if Katherine was within a hundred mile radius of this town.” He said “Now why don’t you tell me why Rebekah was in such a hurry to lure Elijah away?”

“How would I know? I’m not Rebekah. Why don’t you just go and ask her?” You stalled.

“Well, the thing is, love. I don’t really need to ask her, I did actually happen to overhear bits and pieces of your conversation, and by bits and pieces, I mean all of it.” He admitted.

You audibly gasped, and set your glass down before standing up. “So you’ve just been chatting with me, knowing this incriminating information? Was this all just an elaborate plan for some shitty practical joke? Oh god, I’m such an idiot.” You sighed, hiding your eyes with your hand out of embarrassment.

“No!” He exclaimed “No, that’s not what this is at all. I simply thought you looked beautiful tonight, and well, you deserve to have some fun.”

“So you threw me a pity party?” You laughed uncomfortably.

“Wrong again, are you always this paranoid?” He said as he stood up, towering over you.

“Then what?”

“Oh come on, Y/N, you’re a beautiful girl, I just though-”

You cut him off “So you brought me here to flirt with me?”

“No, well, yes, actually. I thought that’s what you wanted? Don’t you like me?” He asked sheepishly.

“Well, obviously, Sherlock Holmes.”

“Then I don’t see the problem here? Have women always been this confusing?” He asked rhetorically.

“Probably.” You shrugged. By this point you were half convinced you were being tricked, and half teasing him.

“Well, I um, I like you too. I have ever since I met you.” He admitted. “Rebekah figured it out a while ago, but I never thought you’d feel the same. I don’t exactly have a good reputation.”

“Klaus, there’s nothing wrong with you that can’t be fixed. You’re only the bad guy because you insist on playing the role.” You explained “Besides, everyone knows power corrupts good men, isn’t that like, Newton’s third law, or something?”

“Not quite...” He said. He wasn’t even looking at you anymore, he was looking through you. “I’m sorry, can I just-” Without warning, he pulled you in by your hand and pressed his lips to yours. You melted into his touch, your fingers instinctively making their way to the hair on the back of his neck. His hands pulled you in at the waist now. He pulled away, and his forehead rested on yours.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Klaus?”

“I’ve never really done the whole relationship thing. Honestly, until I met you I was convinced I had no emotions at all. But for the first time, I want to, I want you. Please be patient with me.” He said, your foreheads still touching, his eyes still closed.

You were stunned, your cheeks went bright pink, realizing how close you were to him. “Okay” you said quietly, before wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around your torso, and lifted you slightly off the ground. For once, things may have been looking up.

**I may or may not do a part 2 to this because I have a good plot idea, stay tuned

#Klaus #niklaus imagine #klaus imagine #klaus x y/n #klaus x reader #Klaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #niklaus x reader #niklaus oneshot #klaus oneshot #the originals #rebekah #rebekah mikaelson #elijah #elijah mikaelson #tvd #oneshots #fanfiction #imagines

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curly-bangtan · 4 years

Text

Heatwave Anniversary Drabble: i miss u like ... a lot (M)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- read first! but this drabble can be read alone

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: One night until Taehyung is back from his boys’ trip but you miss him too much.

Genre: fluff, smut, kinda crack?, boyfriend/established relationship au

Warnings: unprotected sex (oc on contraception so don’t u do it), teasing over the phone, riding and grinding, just kinda vanilla i-missed-u-so-much sex, a particular selca

Word count: 5k

A/N: It was Heatwave’s one year anniversay on the 17th so I decided to write a quick(?) drabble for this. I fully intended on posting this on time, but wanted to change up some stuff so only managed to finish this now. Happy birthday to my first fic and forver my baby!

MOSTLY UNEDITED

The absolute one thing you hate most about your boyfriend being away from you is your boyfriend being away from you.

You have never been the clingy needy type, that is more his role in this relationship, nor are you really one to show affection. In fact, you would hate for that false image to be perceived of you because all that sappy shit makes you want to throw up your dinner. But one thing you’ve learnt since Taehyung had gone away on a week-long boys’ trip down by the coast is how cold the house feels in his absence, despite being in the middle of a sizzling summer.

Everything is so eerily quiet without his random outbursts into song and fits of laughter. Having spent 3 years living together, you have gotten so used to his constant presence that you had even caught yourself several times calling out for him only to remember that he isn’t here. Waking up without his arm draped around your waist, slided up your top at some point during the night, impacts you more than you’d like to admit.

Are you glad that he’s having a great time with his friends by the beach, relaxing all day and drinking all night? Of course. Are you having a great time all by yourself over here in the absence of your boyfriend? Certainly not.

Though, of course, this isn’t something you would confess to out loud, especially to him. He doesn’t need to know how often the thought: ugh fuck, I miss Tete is crossing your mind, lest you want him to rub his smugness in your face.

It isn’t just that. Your relationship hasn’t been without its tests in the course of its years and things have only finally stabilised. It’s not that you don’t trust Taehyung to be with his ladish friends for seven days, shirtless dusk till dawn, intoxicated to the point where he calls you thinking that you’re the pizza delivery guy but…

A hammered Taehyung at a beach full of girls who are no doubt thirsting over him leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You trust him to be loyal to his core, but you don’t trust anyone else to keep their hands from copping a feel. No matter how you look at it, you would just so much rather he be at home with you right now.

You have endured this for six days. Six full days without Taehyung. Six full days with no sex, no tummy kisses, no clammy hand holding even though you’re only to get groceries. Just one more night and this torture will fucking be over, praise the lord. But you also don’t know how much more you can hold back that I miss you text because you’re combusting from the need to see him again.

It’s almost 4am. Your sleep schedule is fucked and it’s really his fault.

The bright screen of your phone offers the only luminescence at this hour. Your messages from him in the past week have not been shy of your daily dose of Taehyung - clips of the beach (always mischievously caption with something along the lines of “thinking of Mykonos ;D” where you went on your first holiday together), selfies that you dwell way too long staring at because you miss that face buried in your neck, drunk videos of the antics him and the boys get up to that you’ll definitely chastise him for when he comes back yet can’t help but laugh at. You find yourself scrolling through them every single night.

Your personal favourite: a pouty selfie he sent you after he dropped his ice cream, the picture you always go back to and the one you’re staring at right now. His hair is frizzy from the sea, lips jutted out childishly and cheeks puffy. Your chest constricts, fuck...

Just one more night, you remind yourself. And then he’s back and all yours again.

Then suddenly, the phone in your hand vibrates, short and abrupt. The bar slides down from the top of your screen reading New Message from Tete. Surprised, you scramble to open it, maybe a bit too desperately for you to be proud of.

04:11

Tete: bby

You blink at those three letters, lips pressed together because your heart is cinching.

Tete: ur prob aslep rn but

Tete: i missu

Tete: <334

The typos indicate that he is wasted, and you take a guess that he has just returned from their last night out of the holiday. The corners of your lips turn up knowing that he is thinking of you right now.

You: no im awake

Your fingers are itching to reply with i miss u too, and it takes all your willpower and stubbornness to stay true to your steadfast self. There is just something so unpleasantly moist about these kinds of texts, something that makes you cringe and gag when you read them. You refuse to be one of those people. A heart is all that you allow yourself to reply.

You: <3

You: r u drunk?

Tete: drunk in love

Tete: yes

A giggle escapes you at his god awful cheesiness - drunk, sober alike. Insufferable. But probably Taehyung’s most endearing quality.

You: did u have fun!!

Tete: yeah

Tete: but i miss u

Tete: more than i had fun

God, you feel like a teenager again, suddenly overcome with this gushing urge to roll over and scream into your pillow. You’re glad he’s merely texting this to you right now because if he had said this to you face to face, your skin would most definitely stain scarlet from neck to hairline, scalding to the touch. Even months into officially being his girlfriend, these curveballs of overwhelming affection throw you off guard.

Again, the compulsion to tell him you miss him too yanks at your heartstrings. You truly don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to say how you feel, let yourself be soft and vulnerable. You know it’s one of your flaws so it’s something that you’re working on, but you can’t say you’ve made much progress.

But just as you decide that maybe you should take the plunge, suck it up and just text him those three words, he sends you a picture.

Tete:

No, not just a picture. A selfie, of him in bed, shirtless under the covers. “Oh, fuck…”

Hand clasped over your mouth to prevent any sound from involuntarily escaping, it takes a moment for your breath to return to you and for you to stop gawking. At this hour… Really? Is he seriously doing this to you right now?

His sleepy eyes. His messy curls. And his fucking nose mole.

The undoing of your existence.

Tete: this boy misses u :]

You: bruh

You: bruhhhhhhh

You: taehyung

Tete: oui my lady :))

You: 👁👄👁

You: can u not do this to my heart

You: y did u send me this </333

You: what was the reason

Tete: coz i miss u

Tete: do u like it

Tete: :D

‘Do u like it’... Actually, you have tears in your eyes, albeit mostly due to staring at a screen for too long so late at night, but it’s certainly contributed by this selfie. You tell yourself you’re acting out because it’s been six days since you last saw him. Perhaps Taehyung Withdrawal Symptoms is the explanation behind why you want to print and frame this picture because that is definitely not a normal reaction to a picture. But this is a masterpiece.

You: taehyung my soul left my body

You: like i could weep

You: u look so soft and fluffy

You: :’(

Tete: lollll

Tete: simp

This boy has some nerve?! Simp! He called you a simp?! Laughing like a maniac, you can’t even pretend to be mad at him, not after this picture he sent anyway. So you guess you are a simp. This selfie is your kryptonite.

Tete: jkjkkkkk

You: hahahaha

You: y r u doing this to me

You: its 4am

You: u can’t send me this rn

You: i won’t be able to sleep

Tete: o yeah how come ur still up?

Tete: go to sleepppp

You: can’t sleep

Tete: aw no whyyy

Because you miss him that’s why.

You miss Kim Taehyung. You miss Tete. You miss your boyfriend, your best friend, your other half. You miss his touch, his smile, his wide eyes when he’s confused. You miss his morning snuggles and late night kisses. You miss the way he hugs you from behind as you prepare your meals. You miss the wandering hands that he can’t help when you’re out in public. You miss playing PUBG together until the sun comes out then both sleeping past noon. You miss taking baths together where bubbles would get into your mouth as your kisses get heated.

You just miss him.

It’s only been six days and you’re in this state. What has he done to you?

Fingers hovering over the keyboard, you let out a great sigh and deflate. No other reason offers itself for you to be awake at this hour; he knows you cherish sleep above anything. Teeth digging into your lip, you inhale long and hard, then exhale the gust of your cowardice. It’s not that deep, stupid. Fuck it.

You: coz

You: i miss u

You: like … a lot

You: 🙄

It’s final - you guess you’ve become a mushy wet sap. Truly it is embarrassing how big of a step this is for you; but the sense of pride and accomplishment feels oddly validating. Baby steps. The eye-rolling emoji right after is subconscious because you could only betray the core of your character that much. Forgo it and taehyung might not believe that it’s you.

Tete: omg

Tete: :D

Tete: rrly?

You: *blank kissy emoji*

Tete: wow

Tete: u actually don’t know how hard i’m smiling rn

You: simp

Tete: ofc that’s my middle name

Tete: i miss u a lot too

Tete: like a lotttttt

Tete: i’ll show u how much when i’m back

Ah… Of course, the Taehyung specialty - smothering you with his affection. You freeze at the thought of his wildfire kisses and head between your thighs. Nothing screams of how much you’ve missed each other more than a good dicking down, climax after climax until you’re both panting messes of sweat and entangled limbs. The anticipation makes you squirm under the sheets, legs pressing together.

You: pls do

You: i need u

It’s uncertain what spirit has possessed you at this ungodly hour for these words to come out of you. There’s an instant flash of ickiness, but you let the self-cringing simmer and dissipate into the realisation that this is okay, this is normal. Taehyung’s your boyfriend, couples text like this. You need to grow some.

Tete: fuck baby

Tete: i’m so not used to u texting like this, it's driving me crazy

You: crazy how *cat smirk*

If you weren’t smiling before, you’re definitely grinning like an idiot now. His reaction is predictable, yet oddly still, an incredible wave of satisfaction hits you. And because you want to savour this moment, maybe give him a taste of his own medicine, you send him a picture of yourself.

Camisole strap slid off your shoulder, hair splayed out, bottom lip deep red from biting down on it too much. Just to return the favour.

Tete: y/n

Tete: call me now

-Incoming call from Tete-

Laughing to yourself, you wait a good few seconds before picking up to prolong his torture. “Yes, Taehyung?” You put your thumb between your teeth to suppress the laughter.

“Fuck.” Against the silence of the night, the low rasp of his voice permeating into you from the speaker of your phone sends tingles up your toes. You’ve fucking missed his voice more than you thought. “Y/N… You can’t do this to me.”

“I told you, I miss you. Like… a lot.” The saccharine tone in your reply is foreign to your own ears, but you like the sound of it and the deep rumble it elicits from your boyfriend.

“How much?” Taehyung eggs you on. His words are barely slurred, so you gather that he has sobered up at least for the most part by now. Yet there is still a slowness to it that suggests

“Hmm, like… I touched myself every night at the thought of you a lot.”

A sharp inhale. Then silence. But you know better so you give him a moment to gather himself.

“You shouldn’t be putting that image in my head.” Exasperation is evident in his voice, desperate and yearning. You can imagine him now, one hand on his phone, the other sliding over his pants that are getting a bit too tight for comfort. Your breath hitches.

“Then you shouldn’t have sent me that picture, Taehyung…”

“You said it was soft and fluffy. What you sent me back was not soft and fluffy.”

“Just because it’s soft doesn’t mean it doesn’t turn me on. You do things to me… okay?” Heat trapped beneath the skin of your cheeks, your grip on the phone against your ear slackening as your thighs rub together.

“Fuck, I’m getting hard, baby…” Nothing gets him going more than the knowledge that he turns you on, it’s his weakness but somewhat his strength.

“That’s… unfortunate. Are you going to do something about it?”

His gulp is audible even over the phone. “Uh…” A sigh. “Um. Maybe. Thoughts are being thought.”

“What kind of thoughts? Thoughts about me touching myself and moaning your name? Thoughts about how much I wish my fingers were your cock thrusting so deep into me that I feel it in my guts? Or are you thinking about what you’ll do to me when you’re back tomorrow? Fucking my mouth until I’m crying or filling me up with your cum first?” Your hips buckle at the filth leaving your mouth. This is more like you; you haven’t abandoned your nature after all.

“Oh, fuckkkk.” His moan resonates into your skull, not quite as if he’s here with you but good enough to fill your desire. “Y/N… I need you so badly.” Breath ragged, you hear movement of his sheets in the background as he adjusts into a more comfortable position.

“Are you stroking your cock right now?” A warm slick oozes out of your own entrance. There’s something about Taehyung masturbating to you that elevates you to a different kind of high.

“What do you think, baby?” As you listen closely, you hear the slow rhythm of his pumping, and your fingers ache to pleasure yourself. ‘The things I’ll fucking do to you when I’m back.”

“Mmm, but it’s late, Taehyung, why don’t we go to sleep.”

“Wait, what?” The stroking stops instantly and surprise in his voice releases a smug satisfaction into your veins. The equivalent of pouring a bucket of ice water over his head right now. Teasing is an old undying habit, what can you say? “You wanna end the call now?”

“Yeah, we should sleep, babe.” Grin unsuppressed, you turn over onto your side, probably a bit too pleased with yourself at your success. Taehyung is an easy victim always.

“What the fuckkk?” Your boyfriend groans. “You’re seriously going to tease me this hard then leave me high and dry?” When you offer no more response than a sly chuckle, he add, “You’re so evil.”

“Save it for tomorrow, Taehyung. Think about it, we’re one sleep away from seeing each other again.”

“Fuck, I know. But you just got me so fucking horny, bruhhh. I thought we were gonna have phone sex.” You are still laughing at his whining, basking in the victory you’re holding over him.

“Taehyung, save it for the real sex.” The idea of phone sex crossed your mind several times to be honest, but you really want to collect every single drop of desire and longing and unleash it tomorrow. Raw and pent up. Nothing to dampen the fire.

A sigh of defeat down the line. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know?” You know. “How am I supposed to sleep now though? I’m so rock hard that it hurts.”

“You can figure that out yourself, big guy.” Your cheeks ache from smiling for too long; they often do during calls with him. “One sleep away, okay?”

“Ugh, fine, you demon. I can’t believe you sometimes.” He lets out another sigh. Your heart skips at the anticipation of how he will punish you for this. “Good night, I miss you.”

“Good night, I miss you more.” There’s a sudden change of tone with these words. Because you truly mean it. Sex and physical intimacy aside, you really just missed his voice, his banter.

You fall asleep almost immediately.

You don’t think you’ve heard a sweeter sound than the keys rattling at the door the next day. Practically leaping off the couch where you had been awaiting him in your Taeyhyung-less boredom, you run to the door.

As it swings open, heat courses to your chest when your eyes land on his, so full of comfort. Your boyfriend is home. Handsome as ever, much more tanned than your memory of him and much more attractive. White t-shirt and loose black shorts, a mundane outfit that only he could make look exceptional.

And as much as you want to sprint up and throw yourself onto him, your feet stay planted on the floor.

“Hey.” You barely breathe out.

Stay calm and composed, you tell yourself. It was only one week without him, it’s not like he’s returning from war.

But Taehyung doesn’t even reply, because in two long strides he is standing before you, bags tossed to the side, a sign of their insignificance in the presence of you. His arms find their home circled around you, face buried in your hair before you can utter another word. You don’t hesitate to return his embrace, holding his waist as you let yourself fall into his chest. He smells like what summer should, the ocean, sweat and young love; his familiar musk greeting you as if he never left.

Your lips meet his, strong and full of intent. He’s so unexpectedly soft when he kisses back, a timeless romantic dance like he is saviour your taste on his tongue.

With your weight leaning on him, he slowly topples back, stepping hastily until your bodies land on the couch. You fit your legs on either side of him as you burrow your nose in his neck and breathe him in, memorise him. In nothing but a large shirt, your bare thighs are exposed for his roaming.

When you pull away and face each other, you are struck by his beauty. His skin is sun-kissed and glowing, hair an effortlessly beautiful mess, the slightest hint of a stubble peeking through below his nose. Your heart belongs to him forever, you know it without a doubt.

“You smell so good. I missed you so much, baby.” And his voice… That deep baritone honey that you have taken for granted all this time - music to your ears.

“Imissedyoutoo…” You mumble, shy under his undivided attention and mercilessly unbroken eye contact.

With your chests pressed together, his chuckle rumbles into you. “What was that?”

“I missed you too… I guess.” Face flaming, you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye at your admittance, fingers twirling around his curls to preoccupy yourself.

But he cups your chin and turns your face to him, forehead pressing up to yours until your noses are touching, breaths mixing. “That’s not what you said last night.” Taehyung smirks, hands sliding down to your waist, the material of your shirt bunching up in his hands. “Do I need to remind you?”

“No…” You find yourself unable to keep your eyes open, your core pulsing mercilessly as you grind onto him. “How are you already hard, Taehyung…” And though you mean to scold him, it comes out breathless.

Lips hovering, he traces the edge of your jaw, tingling the sensitive little hairs on its way to your ear. When he reaches the shell of your ear, warm breath infiltrating so relentlessly into you, you almost lose yourself right there on his lap. “Don’t you know how much I love you?” He whispers.

“Show me.” Is all you make out.

His hands are already beneath your shirt before you even notice, palms kneading into your breasts as he takes your nipples between his two fingers and rolls. As he kisses you again, the same tenderness exchanges between your lips. It’s a different kind of desperation to be so slow and gentle, one that means so much more than sex, one that’s telling of how much you truly missed each other. Your hips roll with a mind of their own over him. One hand of his comes down to your ass, guiding the waves of your rocking. And each time his stiff clothed member digs into your clit, you whimper into his mouth.

Carefully, Taehyung rolls you over onto your back, sucking your bottom lip to keep the seal from breaking. He pulls away when he’s on top of you, and a string of glistening saliva bridges between your mouths. “Foreplay or no? Tell me what you want?” Compliant as ever.

“I need you to fill me up right now. Anything else can wait.” You watch the devotion ignite in his eyes. His fingers are in a hurry as they pull your panties off, knees spreading your legs open as he kneels between your gaping entrance. He tugs his shirt off from the collar, such smoothness in his action that your insides coil up. His newly-bronzed rich skin revealed, you can’t help but reach up and run your hands down from chest to navel, revelling in his blemishless ridges.

A low sound reverberates from the back of Taehyung’s throat as your touch travels down to unbutton his shorts. They fall loose. His hard throbbing members springs free, a glistening bead oozing from his slit. “You didn’t wear boxers?”

When you glance up, you notice his sheepish grin. He presses his mouth onto yours, still smiling, guiding you back onto your back. “I just couldn’t wait.” Taehyung whispers. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, especially since last night… Ah, fuck.” Another deep groan erupts from him as you reach down and slather that bead of precum all over his tip. His head falls onto your neck, writhing under your merciless stroking.

His tip brushing against your clit, your toes curls at the teasing of your weakness, hips jolting up involuntarily and perhaps a bit too violently. You’re so embarrassingly sensitive after this many days without Taehyung, and he notices from your breathless reaction. Smirking, he takes his shaft in his hand and runs his stiff head over your clit mercilessly. And as you roll your head back helplessly, he nibbles onto your exposed neck, faint stubble grazing your skin.

“Quit the teasing…” You whine, unable to withstand the build up of twisting pressure begging to be fulfilled between your legs. “Just put-”

Taehyung pushes himself into you so abruptly that you yelp. And there it is, that mind-melting stretch of your walls that you’ve so much missed. “Fuck, Taehyung…” Your entire core feels ablaze, so numbing that your nails dig into the leather of the couch before they find grip on his arms.

“Like that, baby?” His voice his strained, as if he’s struggling not to lose his mind as well.

Nodding because you can’t make out a word as he slowly pulls out, you grab his face and pull him up to meet your lips. You whimper into him mouth when he rams into you again, hitting your walls in full force, no mercy. His kiss doesn’t lose its sincerity despite the juxtaposition of his vigorous thrusts, though you can’t say that he is quite as gentle with as before. You pinch his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it as your fingers get lost in his hair.

After seven days of deprevation of his cock, your cunt is leaking with the fluid of your arousal, aiding in the ease of each plunge. You feel the stiffness of his ridges pulling you open as he slides in and out of you. “Fuck…” He pants, mouth hovering over yours.

“Let me get on top.” Taehyung’s eyes flash at your suggestion, instantly rolling onto his back. He slips out during the switch of position and the wetness of your cunt is assailed by a sudden rush of cool air.

You swing your leg over and mount him, watching him watch you pump his dick, your own liquid slathered over him sticky in your hand. Letting his member fall against his abdomen, you grind over him between your folds, hands splayed out over his chest. The friction created each time your clit would slide over the thin pinch of skin where his tip unfolded into his shaft has Taehyung a groaning mess.

He looks remarkable under you.

You push his sweat-dampened curls out of his forehead, eyes half closed in euphoria, half watching you roll your cunt so lewdly over his length. You know you could make him cum like this if you continue. But you want him to cum inside you first, you want to feel that thick hot spurt of his desire shoot again and again into you until his cock is twitching.

So slowly, lubricated by your wetness, you sink inch by inch down until the skin of your ass meets his thighs. This angle fuck with your mind; you think you feel him at your cervix. Then your hips start to do what they know best, pounding over him with a rhythm that you’re proud of.

Taehyung grabs hold of your waist, your breasts, fury in his eyes as he watches you ride him with such determination. “I love you so much.” He heaves between heavy breaths.

“I love you, I missed you more than you could imagine.” You huff, thumb running over his red swollen lips.

“I love when you admit it.” He sits up and takes the swell of your breast in his mouth, making his way to your nipples where his tongue relentlessly flickers over.

Your thighs are starting to burn, core aching because his cock is thrusting up into you so deep that you feel it in your guts. The signs are appearing - your vision is going hazy, walls squeezing tightly around him, tangle upon tangles knoting in your stomach. His are too - his head is slumped against your chest, arms crossed behind your back as he holds you close to him, whole body starting to tense as he begins to curse.

Pace quickening, you don’t let the tire of your muscles stop you from your chase. The slap of your skins ringing in your ears, you keep riding, cunt swallowing his cock whole each bounce. Taehyung breaks first. “Fuck!” He calls out into your neck. His cum squirts into you, pulse after pulse, your boyfriend’s hips jolting each thrust.

“I’m so close, babe, keep going for me.” You plead, knowing how sensitive he is right after his climax. He nods wordlessly, face still buried in you hair. The lubrication of his cum abolishes any resistance, letting you slide over him easier than sitting down. And not five thrusts later, your own coil snaps. You through your head back at the wave of pleasure that drowns you, your entire core on fire as your moans echo through the room. It takes maybe twenty seconds for your walls to stop throbbing and for the orgasm to slowly die down.

Taehyung is already growing limp inside you after his orgasm. “Thank you.” You whisper against his forehead while you dismount. His cum flows out of your slit and down the insides of your thighs, but he refuses to let go of you.

When he looks up, you are struck by an overwhelming sensationf of adoration. His long dark curls fall slightly over his eyes, in disarray but just the way you like it. His eyes are so full of genuine love and gratitude of having you that you can’t help but capture him with your lips. “No, thank you.” He mumbles against you, falling back onto the couch with you in his embrace.

After a long kiss of after-sex affection, you pull away before it leads to a second round. “I want you to know that I really missed you a lot. I can’t even call you a big baby anymore because I stared at all the pictures you sent me every night till the sun came out.”

Taehyung’s boyish smile melts your heart. You’ve missed him way too much. His smile, his goofy comments, his tender kisses. “My heart… is squeezing…” If his smile doesn’t tell how smitten he is, his eyes definitely do. “I missed you so much too. All the boys made fun of me for being such a wettie ‘coz I couldn’t shut up about you.” The thought is so endearing that you can’t help but hide your face.

“So how was your trip? Plenty of hot girls drooling after you?” Trick question of course, you know that for a fact already.

“Haha, it was good, fun. Bet you couldn’t sleep ‘coz you were trembling from jealousy.” Scoffing you land a smack on his chest. “But nah, no hot girls. Nowadays there’s only one hot girl in my eyes.”

Your own lips spread like a cheshire cat. “Shut up, cutie.”

“Rachel McAdams.”

“Let go of me. Don’t even touch me.”

A/N: Moral of the story, never sit on their couch if you’re a guest at the Heatwave house.

24/08/20

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binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

in my arms | jisung x reader |

Pairing: self insert, female reader x han jisung

Genre: fluff n smut

Warnings: switch!reader, switch!jisung, established relationship, explicit language, oral (m&f giving and receiving), teasing, body praise, pretty dang fluffy ngl, cum swallowing, back scratching

Word count: 2.3k

this drabble is inspired by jisung’s most recent vlog where he was just chillin’ and being so soft and cozy I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it huhu I hope that you enjoy my first post ever ♡

“You’re not falling asleep are you?” You gently nudge jisung’s head where it was resting on your shoulder. You didn’t have the heart to tell him, but you had spent the last 20 minutes or so trying to ignore the pins and needles that the weight gave your arm.

“--nO!” He squeaked, then rather sleepily rose his head leaving you to try to shake your arm back to life in the least conspicuous way possible.

“I though you said that this was your favorite movie?” You brushed a few rogue strands of his warm brown hair out of his eyes, letting your fingers linger for a moment to savor its addictive softness.

Jisung pouted while he fixed his baggy white tee collar which had fallen under his collarbones. His eyes didn’t catch you sneaking a peak.

“I wouldn’t sleep through my favorite movie.”

“Really?” You cocked an eyebrow up with a growing smile, meeting his eyes which had become as baggy as his shirt.

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m pretty sure that I know every line from that movie; I used to watch it all the time growing up.”

You chuckled a little at his oh-so-common habit of forgetting the little things. “I’m pretty sure you have told me that before.”

“And I told you how I wanted to learn the piano song as well? And--”

“--and it was too hard for you to learn?” You snickered, “You’ve told me that as well. Someone’s sleepy brain needs to get some rest...can you put the laptop over on the desk for me real quick?”

“Sure.” He nodded, and tore off the fluffy down comforter off of the two of you. You had wished that he had given a warning considering the sudden blast of cold air that met your bare legs when he did so. At the same time, you could never stay mad at him for long, not when he looked like that.

Jisung looked perfectly cuddly in that moment--even more so than usual. His long white tee made it look like he wasn’t wearing his boxers at all, and his hair was perfectly tussled into an adorable looking mess from resting on you. You looked down to his legs and all you wanted was to have them entangled with yours. He turned to return back to bed when you noticed that the little mole on his right collarbone had made an appearance. You made a note to give it a kiss as soon as you got the chance.

As soon as Jisung was back in the bed where it was all toasty, everything felt right again. “Reach the light?

“M’kay.” You answered to twist the switch.

Once all of the lights were off, the two of you sunk into each other, completely wrapped up as close as you possibly could be, skin on skin, the softness of fabric; you could feel him gently breathing from where he had pulled your head into his chest.

He sighed deeply, exhaling. You were half expecting him to concede and tell you that he really was feeling tired, when he whispered the exact opposite. “Well now that I’m awake I can’t fall back asleep.”

“But I thought you said you weren’t sleeping...?” You let out a breathy laugh which made him draw you in closer.

“Shhhh.” He hushed. Jisung then took his hands to the back of your head where he began to play with your hair, massaging your scalp slightly. The sensation was amazingly relaxing and you started to feel your own eyes grow heavy...

You whispered into the dark room, “Mmm that feels so nice.”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I...heh...don’t get mad at me for this one but...I’m kind of...you know...”

You pulled your head back, knowing exactly what he meant.

“Right now?”

“...yeah.”

“Is there like a reason, or something? I mean, I wasn’t really doing anything--”

“--There doesn’t need to be a reason...honestly.” Even in the dark of the room you could feel his little nervous smile. “But I mean, we’re in bed, and I’ve got you: so soft and warm all around me, in my arms...are you surprised? You just do that to me.” Jisung’s hand migrated over to rest on your cheek, carefully caressing it with his thumb.

The more that he talked about it, the more you lost yourself in him...as usual. He really had an effect on you as well. You suddenly became even more aware of your legs intertwined and the pressure it created.

“We don’t have to, or-or we could keep it short, I know that you have work tomorrow.”

“Are you trying to convince me to mess around with you right now?” You asked with a creeping smirk in the corner of your mouth.

Jisung shied his head away slightly. “Kind of.”

Upon his words you felt it. Down where you had nearly straddled your legs around him, he was growing harder and you could feel him lightly throbbing. It was a lot to show just for talking.

His breaths quickened and he pulled your head in closer to his, ghosting his lips over yours letting his hot breath tickle your skin. You knew that he was aching to touch you, and you, him.

Jisung whispered on your lips, “Do you want to?”

Your response was quickly given to him when you crashed your lips into his, and he returned with so much hunger, you could have thought that he hadn’t been kissed in months--but of course that wasn’t true. The truth was you could never keep your lips off of him. He knew what it was like and how diligent you could be, making sure that he was covered in them, nothing untouched, and it drove him crazy.

You swung your leg over his hip, and pulled him into you with your thigh as he grabbed a huge handful of your skin to steady himself. His fingernails dug into you with a delightful sting, and you kept working on his mouth, dragging your lips over his both slow and fast, whatever he wanted, it was what you did. Your tongues met in the middle of the heat and slicked over each other with a taste that sent you reeling. Jisung moved his hands to your back where they snuck up your shirt and he traced gentle lines all over. To sweeten it all, you grinded down into his lap, seeking a sensation that your now soaked underwear craved.

“--fuck.” Jisung gasped into your mouth.

He hastily tugged your shirt to the side, lending eager hands to fondle your breasts while his lips never left yours. He had decided to slow down his pace a little bit as he ran over your mouth more, being careful like he didn’t want to scare you. His fingers started to twist your nipples lightly and they quickly hardened. Below your hips, your whole core started to whine with desire for the warmth of his mouth to give it attention. Jisung pinched your bud just right, and it sent you gasping for air against him.

“You like that?” He jested for a second, even you could still see his bright smile in the darkness of the room.

You nodded quickly, hoping he would keep going if you said less.

“God.” He marveled at you for a minute. “You’re just so--”

“--Are you about to say something cheesy Han Jisung?” You lifted your arms to trace the outlines of his shoulder blades behind him, giggling.

“You’re everything.” He leaned down to plant a kiss on your forehead before letting his hands get back to work. He buried his head into your neck, fluttering kisses everywhere that he could only pausing to suck lightly. “You’re...my...everything.” He got out between kisses.

“You’re my...Jisung...” You tugged at his back while he kept flicking your sensitive buds between his fingers. When he was doing so you couldn’t keep your thoughts straight. You wanted so badly to tell him a million words and more about how he was your whole world too, but all you could manage was, “Please...more.”

“You want more baby?”

“Ye--”

He swooped down to bring his mouth to your hard bud, twisting his tongue around it while he cupped it too. With his tongue flat he looked up to you with his gorgeous brown eyes. From how good he was at just this, you could feel yourself getting closer by the second. Your legs crossed tightly to try and relieve some of the pressure. You scraped your nails up his back, getting impatient and eliciting a low groan from him.

“I’m ready.” You prompted and he immediately knew what you wanted, you didn’t even have to say a word.

Jisung cascaded kisses down your stomach, giving some well planned ones to your waist when he got there to give special attention the the stretch marks there. Ever since you had mentioned not liking them, he couldn’t keep his lips off them.

“Gorgeous.” He calmly said, and settled between your thighs.

Your body jerked when he took his thumb to lightly rub circles into your clit, bringing little moans and gasps from your lips. Jisung mischievously snickered to himself over the power that he held over you. He would stop rubbing every few seconds just to hear you whine. At last he pulled your underwear from your legs and you felt the touch of his fingers directly on your clit; he used his other hand to pull your leg back, digging into it like before and it made your whole body shiver. At this point, you had absolutely no control over the sounds coming from your mouth. Wherever he touched, you felt electric.

He darted his pointed tongue around your clit in circles, then would switch to lapping at it agonizingly slow. Over time, your whimpers became more and more desperate.

“Do you wanna cum?” He asked with cockiness laced in his voice.

Your thighs had began to shake without warning. “Ye-yes.”

“Then do it. Cum for me.” Jisung commanded, returning back to his work.

Your mind went completely blank once your orgasm hit you hard. It came it waves, and it only made you shake harder.

After a little chuckle in spite of himself, he brought himself back up to give you more kisses, holding your face is his hands once again.

You came down, feeling more energized than before, and even more desperate to do one thing.

“Your turn.” You commanded of him now, shoving him to his back, leaving a surprised look on his adorably squirrel-like face.

You hastily pulled his shirt up to ravage his chest with your mouth, dragging your burning lips all over the skin and tasting every bit of him that you could. From the sensation he appeared to melt into the bed, taking in shaky inhales while he tangled his fingers in your hair. Just a bit farther down, he was still throbbing under his boxers.

“You ready?” You quickly asked, and he nodded back, teeth catching his bottom lip.

He helped you snag off his boxers, revealing his dripping member pink and ready. You thought to yourself how it just was just so fucking cute when he was excited like that. Instinctually your mouth started to gather with saliva. You decided to use your hand first, pumping it slow and hard, just as you knew that he liked it.

“oh shit--” He moaned out. The words got caught a little in his throat, and that only made him sound even more heavenly.

His eyes were closed, but yours were drawn to him as you kept going. Watching him like this made you feel a surge of confidence that was like a drug. You could do this to him.

“m-more.”

“Look who is asking for more now?” You grinned.

“Y/n. please. You’re driving me fucking crazy.” His grip tightened on your head.

“You want it like this?”

Without a warning you brought your mouth down to the tip and started licking around it in long strokes and bringing it in just slightly, you didn’t want him feeling all of you just yet.

“oh god.”

“Feels good?”

“Yes. Fuck yes. Just--keep going.”

You teased him for just a little longer than you usually did, just to see what would happen. Of course you should have expected, the longer you waited, the more of a mess he became.

“Y/n, fuck, please.”

You finally caved. “Well since you asked so nicely.”

You brought your head all the way down, taking him completely in and squeezing with your hand just as hard. You hollowed your throat down to take in as much of him as you could without gagging: over the past few months you had perfected it.

“shit-I’m close.” Jisung hissed and buckled his hips.

You took his announcement as an indicator to speed up, so you did. Jisung’s moans and frustrated sighs fueled you further with how beautiful and downright erotic as they sounded. When he came it was unreal, his breaths were so fast one after the other it was almost like he was suffocating with his own pleasure. You held him firmly in your mouth as he finished throbbing, not sacrificing one drop.

As soon as he had a moment to breathe, he pulled you back into his arms and attacked you with kisses all over your face, it didn’t matter where; he was smiling through every one of them. He would pull back then to admire you one more time and your hair which was now in knots thanks to his grip from before.

“that was...”

“Amazing?”

“Yes.” He grinned and gave you a peck to your forehead. “And now I’m tired. I guess we succeeded in more ways than one.”

The two of you put your clothes back on from the light of phone flashlights then crawled back in, sweeping the comforter over top of you once again.

“Jisung?” you nuzzled into him, inhaling his comforting scent all around you.

“Mmm?”

“You’re my everything too.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #jisung x reader #jisung x y/n #han smut #han jisung smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids drabble #kpop smut #kpop imagine #kpop drabble #i hope that it was a fun time hehe #my first post ever uwu #switch reader #switch jisung #i LIVE for switch Jisung

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renegade-skywalker · 3 years

Text

I've been in a writing rut lately but apparently just thinking of Atton and the Jedi Exile usually means I end up with some sort of drabble so here we are:

---

In all her time on the Ebon Hawk so far, this was the first time Eden found herself in the cockpit alone. Still reeling from her conversation with G0-T0, all she could do was pace, her arms knit tightly across her chest. She wanted to fix something, put her hands to use. But she couldn’t. She had to wait for Atton. She had to clear the air. It was fixing something, in a way, something she didn’t realize needed to be done if she wanted to move forward until now.

It wasn’t as if Eden had gotten along with everyone who, for one reason or another, had decided to join her ramshackle crew. She was still hesitant to even call them her crew even if it was clear that they looked to her for direction. But not being on good terms with Atton didn’t feel right, not when he’d been there from the beginning. She had met Kreia first, yes, but Kreia wasn’t the first person she’d felt at ease around. Atton was the first person she’d shared a drink with, the first person she’d shared grievances with and swapped stories. He was the first person she told a joke to, the first person she’d been proud to make smile even if it was for a stupid reason.

That smile. Atton’s smile wasn’t an easy one. When he’d been had, either placed at the butt end of a joke or beaten at cards, his entire face would split into a momentary exasperated grin before it was gone in an instant, as if he knew he couldn’t stop the expression from taking over his face so the least he could do was expel it as soon as possible. A moment later he would bite his lip or suck in a breath, gritting his teeth before uttering a comeback. Anything to rein in his muscles and relax his expression lest they betray him any further. But when Eden had caught his eye on G0-T0’s yacht, the man had truly smiled. A small smile, but an earnest one. His face had paused upon seeing her - surprised, his eyes going wide, his mouth slack - before easing into a smile that met his eyes, crinkling in the corners as the evidence of his being glad to see her again made itself evident in his expression. Even thinking of it now gave Eden pause. Especially after their last conversation...

When her restraints had been deactivated and Mical and Bao rushed in to meet her, Eden was expecting that to be all for her daring rescue. Mical and Bao made an obvious team the more she thought about it, both stoic and calm but blessed with brawn, each of them bookends from her past as a Jedi returned to help her face history as it reared its ugly head. But as they led her out of the holding cell, she saw Atton, bashfully waiting at the end of the hall by the security console, as if he’d been shy to see her, unsure if she would be happy to see him.

When their eyes met, it was as if their last conversation had dissolved completely, only leaving room for what Eden had felt for Atton before his big reveal… and while Atton’s relieved smile still sent goosebumps across her skin at the memory, she could not forget the heated words they exchanged over the refugee causeway.

“Surprised to see you here, of all places,” a voice laughed unsurely at her back. Eden paused, still facing the marbled white-blue of hyperspace as she registered Atton’s voice as he eased into the room.

“Hard to rest when your entire worldview has just been shattered,” Eden laughed hollowly.

While G0-T0’s predictions still echoed in her mind, it wasn’t his predictions that were weighing on her in the moment.

“Sure, yeah,” Atton shrugged. She could feel him fidget behind her, unsure whether to approach her or take a seat, though to Eden’s dismay he did the latter.

Eden bit her lip, unsure of why she was disappointed, keen on staring at the unending void of hyperspace than facing Atton.

“What did G0-T0 say? Whatever it was, it has you spooked.”

Eden shook her head, annoyed with how well he knew her despite the unwitting comfort that came along with it.

“Oh, you’ll like this one,” Eden laughed darkly after gathering her wits, “First thing he said was about how the Jedi/Sith conflict was tiring.”

Eden pointed at Atton, making light of the situation as well as where they’d left things off. But it was also the first time she’d truly looked at him since her rescue, and just like it had been then, Atton allowed himself to dissolve into a smile, only this time it was a dark smirk to match her snark.

“He’s got a point, I admit,” Atton said, his gaze eventually landing on hers, stilling Eden in her tracks. “What else?”

Eden could see the ghost of the smile Atton had granted her on G0-T0’s yacht flicker across his face with his response, still glad to see her in one piece. Part of her wanted to pause and soak in the sight of him, unsure if she was ready to admit that she was glad to see him again too, and that things felt normal for lack of a better word despite how they’d left things off.

“He said that he’d been running statistics on galaxy-wide events for decades, and, long story short, according to his calculations he expects the Republic to be attacked by some unknown force within the standard year.”

“Does he mean the Sith?” Atton asked almost immediately. “It can’t be a coincidence that the Sith reveal themselves after, what, five years? Six? After Malak, there was no evidence they even still existed.”

The Sith. Eden could tell how eager Atton was to say the word, as if enunciating it exorcised him of the weight of their previous conversation, but in lieu of pointing it out she shook her head.

“I don’t think so. He didn’t disclose as much, but I have a feeling his criticism of the Jedi and the Sith is more an implication of an outside force as the likely culprit. As if this decades-long battle over light and dark is just a distraction for what's yet to come. Or… maybe it’s the reason Revan left?”

“Maybe both. What if she’s the real threat? She declares herself Darth Revan to reign over the Republic only to find her right-hand man has plans of betraying her. Maybe getting captured and turned by the Jedi was all an act, a kill-two-mynocks-with-one-frag-mine sorta thing,” Atton offered. “Revan must have left for a reason. Maybe it was so that we wouldn’t suspect her of pulling something else.”

“Possibly,” Eden sighed in half-agreement, unwilling to unpack all of the distrust she still carried for her old mentor. “Who knows? And at this point it’s hard to care when there is a very real threat tailing us, even if the two are linked somehow.”

“Yeah,” Atton huffed a laugh, “A distraction, maybe.”

Eden wanted to explore this further, knowing that she and Atton were certainly onto something, but she also wanted to bookmark the remainder of this conversation for later. Part of her wanted to relish in the fact that they were dishing out details, alone. As they often did. Even as Eden accrued more unwitting followers, the only person she ever really conferred with about their next moves was Atton. Unless Kreia approached her first. But when it was up to Eden, Atton was usually the first person she would come to with a problem. It was partly out of habit, especially since Kreia was so closed-off early on in their time together, but it was also partly out of something Eden didn’t quite know how to categorize yet.

“Well, whatever happens,” Atton began before pausing, his expression faltering only for a moment as Eden met his gaze again, “I’m with you. No matter what.”

Atton’s eyes were wide and earnest, the greener parts now clear in the otherwise grey-brown of his irises. Eden stilled, just as she had when he’d disarmed her with that sincere smile he’d flashed upon her rescue aboard G0-T0’s ship. Eden’s eyes scanned his, savoring the solemnity of the moment, knowing it meant something but afraid to admit what.

“Good,” she responded, her voice quiet but calm, the corners of her lips curling upward ever so slightly as she registered the relief that crossed Atton’s face.

Eden stood, slowly, and approached Atton at the pilot’s chair, a hand reaching for his and squeezing. Atton froze, his eyes going wider if possible as he looked from their linked hands back up at Eden, the confusion clear in his eyes.

“We’ll start training tomorrow,” Eden said with a gentle laugh. “Just you and me.”

Eden let go, her hand suddenly cold and wanting in the absence of Atton’s touch. She’d never once done that, but all the times she’d thought of it flashed in her mind’s eye at the realization, as if only now admitting the thought had occurred to her at all. But instead of dismissing it, as she must have so many times, she let the thought stay.

“Uh, yeah,” Atton replied after a flustered moment, meeting her eyes again just as she made to leave, “Count me in.”

“Good,” Eden said again, this time relishing in it while also trying to mask the reassurance it gave her -- how true the word sounded, how utterly calming it felt to say and mean it.

“Good,” Atton echoed, a goofy half-grin taking over his face before he coughed purposefully and turned back in the pilot’s chair. Eden didn’t turn away until she saw the last of Atton’s silhouette painted against the white-blue of hyperspace, feeling better than she had in a while.

#atton x exile #atton rand #the jedi exile #kotor #kotor 2 #fan fic #my writing #star wars #ugh every time I post something I forget how to tag

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writer-ish · 3 years

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grace (Mason x f!Detective)

Some of you may know my new co-obsession (along with @playchoices) is @seraphinitegames‘ The Wayhaven Chronicles and one (1) grumpy Greek vampire in particular.

Anyway, this little drabble was in my head after completing the Book 3 Demo for the millionth time and now you all need to be subjected to it as well. Enjoy? (Takes place sometime after Book 2, but before “that scene” in Book 3)

tags: @utterlyinevitable , @ethansramsey , @otherworldlypresents , @aworldoffandoms , @raleighcarrera , @ejunkiet , @starrystarrytrouble , @terrm9 (reply or dm for add/removal!)

grace

Pairing: Mason x f!Detective (Grace Bennett) Length: 3.2k words | Rating: T (Language) Summary: A detective and a vampire try not to catch feelings for one another OR denial is not just a river in Egypt.

“It only ever works if one of you cares more than the other.”

It was something Tina had said once, in a rare, cynical moment, fresh off a break up.

The two of them had gone out for drinks post-patrol one night and, as the evening wore on, Tina’s mood had descended in direct correlation with the growing number of empty glasses around them. Still, it hadn’t been until the cigarettes came out that Grace had really known they were in trouble.

“Trust me, Gracie.” Her friend had punctuated her words with haphazard gestures, cigarette wobbling precariously between two fingers, a fine dusting of ash drifting down to the table. Taking a drag, she’d released a thick plume of smoke from her mouth and nostrils before continuing.

“There’s no such thing as equal when it comes to love. There is always the giver and the receiver. The one who cares more. Who loves more. And—”

At this, she’d pointed the glowing ember at the end of her cigarette right in Constable Grace Bennett’s face.

“—You better hope it’s them and not you.”

Former Constable, now Detective Grace Bennett hadn’t thought about those words much in the subsequent years. Relationships weren’t really her forte, after all. There had been the disastrous two years in college with Bobby — in hindsight, one could hardly attribute “love” to anything that had happened between them — and, more recently, a few first dates that sometimes turned into second dates before fizzling out completely.

Hardly the stuff of romance novels.

So it was unfortunate that Tina’s old advice had chosen to rear its ugly head in her mind now, of all times, when Grace had found herself in a—situation where love was the absolute last thing she wanted to consider.

It wasn’t that she didn’t care about Mason. Of course she did.

What else would you call almost incurring the wrath of an entire civilization of ancient Estonian mirror creatures at the expense of saving his miserable life?

It was just that things were...

Complicated.

Leaning against her beat-up silver hatchback, she willed the pounding of her heart to settle as the night spring air enveloped her in its cool breeze. She took deep and even breaths in and out of her nostrils, contemplating just how complicated things were, exactly.

First of all, wasn’t dating a colleague generally frowned upon?

Grace had never broken that rule in all her years on the force and she hadn’t had any intention of doing it as a detective, either, never mind as part of her mother’s top secret supernatural government agency.

Not only that, but what if said colleague had also made it abundantly clear, in more ways than one, that they weren’t looking for anything exclusive or serious in any capacity?

Had, in fact, made it a point to preface almost every sexual encounter with some variation of those very words?

And to even further complicate matters, what if said commitment-phobe colleague also happened to be supernatural themselves? More specifically, a vampire who was a few years shy of his centennial?

What then?

And yet — bear with her, here — let’s say, said commitment-phobe centenarian vampire colleague also looked at her as though she were the only human on this planet that he gave a damn about, the only one who could make his smile curl up on both sides, the only one who warmed those steel-grey eyes into molten embers, the one who—

Her train of thought cut off abruptly as she heard the doors open to the police station. There was a thick fog cutting the night air, the warmth of the day lazily giving way to the coolness of the night, imparting an almost dream-like quality onto an otherwise ordinary parking lot.

Grace waited, peering through the haze, until the object of her musings appeared. His unruly dark waves swung around his cheeks, just barely brushing his collarbone as he stalked towards her, hands buried deep in his pockets. His shoulders were hunched up close to his ears, which she knew was scant protection from the cold he must be feeling.

Her heart inadvertently gave a little pang at the thought and she could’ve sworn she saw his gaze narrow slightly as it happened.

She continued to take him in while she could, eyes lingering on the crystal around his neck that seemed to glow from within, a warm cerulean pulsation, before drifting over his leather jacket, burgundy henley, and worn-in jeans, half-tucked into his partially laced boots.

“Thanks for waiting,” was the first thing he said once he was in ear-shot.

Any passer-by might have thought he was sincere: Thanks for waiting for me by the car. For not leaving when you could have. Thanks for offering me a ride.

Grace, however, understood the sarcastic undercurrent of his words. Thanks for leaving me in there to deal with your mother and the rest of the agents. Nate’s disapproving glances and Felix’s gleeful ones. Thanks for ditching me.

There was never any true bite to his words, though, not anymore—even the borderline derisive ones. Instead, he stopped about a foot in front of her and straightened, his full lips quirked slightly, an unlit cigarette dangling between them. She had to crane her neck to look up at him and his grin grew wider.

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” he murmured, taking the cigarette out of his mouth.

She cleared her throat, unable to stop the blush from creeping up her neck.

Even after all they’d been through — all they’d done — she still couldn’t prevent the slow crawl of heat that always seemed to accompany his presence.

“Yeah,” she said gruffly, turning to open her door and hoping maybe this time he hadn’t noticed.

One glance at the way he rolled his lips, hiding an ever-growing smirk as he rounded the back bumper of her car to go to the passenger side, told her that there was no chance she had been that lucky.

They got in quietly and she started the ignition — on the third try, ignoring his snort and slow headshake — before they were off.

“You know,” she said after a beat, even though she kicked herself for always being the one to break the silence, “I don’t think I need a babysitter anymore. Things seem quiet now.”

Mason scoffed.

“Things are never quiet,” he replied bluntly. “There’s just the hurricane or the eye of the storm.”

She felt his eyes on her after a moment and she held her breath, waiting for him to continue.

“Why? Getting sick of my company, sweetheart?”

“No!” she blurted out quickly—too quickly. “It’s not that, it’s just—I mean, I feel bad for you, to be honest. I’m sure there’s other things you’d rather be doing—”

“There’s nothing — and no one — else I’d rather be doing right now.” He’d said the words casually enough, as though completely unaware of the tumult they would cause within her system, his head still tilted languidly against the headrest of her passenger seat as he watched her.

“Well—” She fumbled for words. “That’s—I’m glad.” Nice one.

He chuckled low in his throat. “What is it about you being flustered that just gets me going?” He shook his head. “I’ll never know.”

She couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped her. “I hate it,” she admitted. “You make me feel like my brain is constantly short-circuiting.”

“I’ll take that compliment.”

She took her eyes off the road briefly to look over at him. Sure enough, he was still staring right at her with a little smile quirking the side of his mouth up. She couldn’t help the return smile that she felt crinkling up the corners of her eyes.

His face changed slightly, smile dropping.

“Jesus, sweetheart, keep smiling at me like that and you might need to pull over.” He fiddled with a fresh cigarette before popping it in his mouth. She waited a beat, but the lighter never came out.

“We’re here anyway,” she said, pulling into her apartment complex and finding a spot easily. “You’ve officially completed your chaperone duty.” She hazarded a glance over at him. “Did you…” She cleared her throat. Be bold, Gracie.

He’d already turned his whole body in his seat, one hand braced on the dash, the other elbow digging in beside his headrest. He watched her carefully, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Did I?” He pretended to mull over the incomplete question. “The answer is most likely yes, I have.”

He leaned closer until she could feel the warmth of his breath swirling in the space between them. No longer imbued with the scent of burning tobacco, instead it had a sweetness to it, a freshness that reminded her of an unopened pack of cigarettes before they had been tainted by a flame.

“I have, I would have, and I certainly will again,” he continued, leaning forward even closer.

Grace bit her bottom lip and his eyes shot down to it immediately, seemingly transfixed by her tooth caught in the flushed redness of her mouth.

“Finish the sentence, detective,” he murmured, eyes still fixed on her, the cool grey seeming to emanate with a glow all its own.

“Did you want to come in?” she breathed, her own eyes darting down to his mouth in return.

His hand cupped the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her dark hair as he pulled her towards him.

“Always,” he said against her lips before capturing them with his.

Grace felt herself drowning in the moment, the same rushing vortex of emotion she felt every time they kissed. She’d thought it would get easier — that it had to — that it wouldn’t feel so all-consuming, so vital each time.

But as his lips slid over hers, tongue stroking and tasting and always drawing more and more from her, as she carded her fingers through the tempting obsidian waves of his hair and tugged him closer still, the desire to devour him too persistent to ignore—

She knew she was in deep. Too deep. She cared—too much. And there would be no getting out this time — at least not with all her vital parts attached.

* * *

Mason never thought he would like anything more than fucking.

It was intrinsic to his very being, the combustive need for release at all times — not just sexually, but entwined within his very existence. A need to be released from the hold of his senses, from the overpowering strain of existence—the sounds, the smells, the sights. All of it.

His desire to remove himself from the harshness of reality was a constant endeavour — and sex just happened to be the easiest and most pleasurable way to do it.

But he had to hand it to his little detective.

The sex was good, that was for sure. No doubt about it.

But the kissing—

In his almost one hundred years on this planet — at least the ones he could recall — he couldn’t remember ever being this affected by goddamn kissing of all things.

It had to be the little noises she made. Murmurs and moans against his mouth that he wasn’t even sure she was fully aware she was doing.

Or the way she pulled at him, drawing him closer each time so she could press her body against his, feel the length of her torso flush with the entirety of his.

She reminded him of a little burrowing creature, nuzzling at his jaw and neck, gripping the collar of his shirt, squirming to get under, over, inside him.

He squeezed her tightly — moderating the full extent of his strength, obviously, but still forcing her to emit a small breathless gasp at the feeling — and pulled her across the console towards him.

“Settle,” he murmured against her ear, dragging her fully into his lap. It was an effort — her legs kicked the dashboard, the radio, and the glove box before she could tuck them under herself as she buried a giggle into his shoulder.

“This car is not made for that sort of lateral movement,” she informed him, shifting to try and get comfortable.

“Oof,” he grunted as her knee hit his midsection. “God, you’re heavy.” It was patently untrue, but he knew he’d get some sass back for a comment like that and he found himself eagerly anticipating it.

She didn’t disappoint. Leaning back, she braced her hands on his shoulders, a lock of dark hair obscuring half of one of her hazel eyes. A street lamp illuminated her cheeky, exasperated grin as she tilted her head and regarded him.

“Is that so?” She wiggled around purposefully and he groaned in unspent desire as her perfectly round bottom found all the right places in his lap. “Would you care to file a complaint?”

“Christ, no,” he muttered, pulling her towards him once more. “Let’s get out of this aluminum death trap and go upstairs.”

Kicking his door open despite her protests to be careful, he tightened his hold on her and lifted them both out of the car, bracing his legs on the pavement as he stood.

He knew she was anticipating that he would release her, drop her to her feet and continue forwards to her apartment, likely with her trailing behind — his long strides swallowing up the pavement much easier than her shorter ones — but he found himself enjoying the steady, rapid beat of her heart against his shoulder, the comforting heft of her in his arms. He found himself hardpressed to let her go.

So he didn’t.

“Mason!”

She let out a gasp that dissolved into a laugh as he hefted her higher up and over his shoulder, unable to stop himself from giving her ass a playful slap as he carried her to her door. She kicked her legs ineffectually, thumped his back lightly with her palms as she squirmed. He only held her tighter against him.

“Stop moving, detective,” he ground out, the cigarette dropping out of his mouth as he turned his head to bite whatever part of her was closest to his cheek.

She yelped as his teeth made contact with the side of her upper thigh, hard enough that she’d be able to feel it through her jeans.

“Keep it up and it’ll be harder next time,” he promised, carrying her effortlessly up her steps. He paused at her front door. “Keys?”

“They’re in my pocket,” she grumbled and he made a big show of patting her bottom — both sides, thoroughly — before pulling them out of the pocket with the obvious protrusion and unlocking her door.

He let them in and kicked the door shut behind him, then took two strides into the small space and deposited her unceremoniously on the couch.

“Geez,” she spluttered, moving her hair out of her face. “What are my neighbours going to think?”

“Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but with the noises you’ve been making lately, they’ve already drawn their own conclusions,” he drawled, crossing his arms and regarding her with a half smirk.

She just shook her head at him, her eyes glittering with mirth—and something else, something less easy to discern or define.

Before he could decipher it further, she threw him off with another question:

“What’s gotten into you tonight?”

Her tone could have been accusatory in nature, but instead there was only a mild sense of awe and a greater sense of amusement. Regardless, it still took him aback.

What, exactly, did she mean by that?

He admitted to himself that there had been a certain feeling of—levity, about him tonight. An air of calmness, of — dare he say — happiness, at the thought of walking out of that station and seeing her waiting for him. Of knowing that he got to go home with her. To hold her. To taste her. To fuck her.

And then to leave her.

“Into me?” He regarded her warily, before moderating his reaction and his tone. “I’m more concerned with getting into you tonight, detective.”

“I have a name,” she retorted, sitting up and smoothing her shirt out. “You haven’t used it once since we left the station.”

Yeah, she had a name. He knew she had a fucking name. Grace. How ironic.

“Call me Gracie,” she’d said to them once and he’d almost puked.

What in the everloving fuck was someone like him doing with someone called Grace? “Grace” meant kindness. Charity. Good will. “Grace” meant mercy.

Mason had never had, nor had he ever wanted, anything to do with mercy.

And this girl—woman in front of him tonight, was the embodiment of her name. Everything kind. Everything compassionate. Everything merciful.

He crossed his hands behind his back so he wouldn’t have to look at them.

“Are we doing introductions again?” he snapped and then immediately regretted it when he saw the stricken look on her face.

All of a sudden, everything felt too overwhelming, his senses in overdrive as he lost his grip on her presence, her heartbeat. Instead, he felt a tidal wave of unwelcome sensations: the smell of the toast she’d made that morning, some flowers she had in a vase that were on the cusp of dying, the light he’d turned on when they walked in shining right in his eyes, the conversation and heavy footsteps of the people in the apartment above them—

Compulsively, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, placing it between his lips, ready to light it.

Her eyes followed him, watching him closely. He didn’t know if she realized that something had changed in his demeanour or not, but her gaze on him made him itchy, too, in a different way.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he bit down hard on the cigarette, crushing the filter.

“Should I leave?” he muttered, feeling his shoulders hunch. Knowing he looked and sounded petulant and hating himself for it, but being unable to moderate his emotions enough to lift up the necessary shields.

She continued to regard him silently, those all-knowing hazel eyes, wise beyond their years, stripping him down to his scars — external and internal.

He suppressed a shudder.

“I’m going to shower,” she said eventually, “and wash off the grime of the day.” She gestured around the apartment. “Feel free to stay and get comfortable.” Then, she swallowed hard and met his eyes briefly, before looking away and shrugging. “Or go. It’s up to you.” She walked towards the bathroom, tossing her jacket on a chair as she went. “I’ll be a few minutes.”

The bathroom door closed — and locked, decisively.

It would be so easy to just bounce. Two steps to the door and then minutes before he could make it back to the warehouse. To his own bed. To the rest of his unit. Where things were easy and no one would ask questions. He could even go to a bar. Find another warm and willing body to lie with. One with a sensible and meaningless name, like Michael or Jennifer, whose eyes would be as empty as their head and who would smell all wrong and who he’d leave behind without looking back even once, because he didn’t give a shit about them.

It would be so easy.

So fucking easy.

Mason heard the shower turn on.

He thought about how she’d feel when she came out of that shower — thought, too, about her skin flushed and damp, only a towel wrapped around her, just because he couldn’t help himself — knowing that she’d given him an opportunity to stay and he’d chosen to go.

He found himself caring, for the first time, about how his actions might affect another person’s feelings.

He looked at the front door. Then he looked at the couch.

And he sat down.

Thanks for reading! I have a smutty part two planned, let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in. 😅

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #twc mason #mason x detective #agent mason #twc fanfic #twc fanfiction #twc mason fanfic #specialist agent mason #agent m #played it fast and loose with the blog tags #if you really wish you weren’t tagged #plleeease let me know #❤️❤️#not choices

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lordtraco-fanfics · 3 years

Text

Aromantic Inosuke and Bisexual Disaster Zenitsu AND They/Them Demi Tanjiro Drabble PART TWO HERE YOU GO

Also on AO3

"Monitsu."

"Boar."

The two stared intensely at one another, both knowing this to be true despite the boar mask hiding Inosuke's gaze from sight. Neither one backed down or moved from their spot in the Butterfly Manor's backyard.

"You said you'd talk to them."

"I said I would. I never promised when." Zenitsu said, keeping his voice even. He blinked, slow and deliberate, keeping himself still as if any movement would imply wrongdoing.

"You've been avoiding them. Don't pretend you haven't."

Zenitsu let his gaze fall to the side, hearing that triumphant noise thrum in tune with his boyfriend's heartbeat. It was quickly smothered by rising anger, though. Dammit.

"Gonpachiro opened up about liking you and suddenly you're too busy for meals? Do you think they're an idiot?"

"Of course not!" Zenitsu grumbled low.

"Then talk to them!"

"I can't!" Zenitsu made fists at his sides, staring daggers at the ground beside him. He closed his eyes and let the tears building in them stream down his face. "I'm going to mess it up!"

"Mess what up?" came another voice that made Zenitsu freeze in place.

"I'll be over there." Inosuke said, patting Tanjiro on the back as he passed to go continue some training. Zenitsu didn't look his way, hurt from Inosuke's mild betrayal that led to him having to talk this out now.

"Zenitsu, if this is about what I asked Inosuke… I really didn't mean to impose." Tanjiro said, gently. Their voice was full of that beautiful sound that made Zenitsu's heart soar. Their presence made him feel safe and welcome even now.

The sheer amount that he loved Tanjiro scared Zenitsu.

"You're not, I just…" Zenitsu let his arms sway lightly, relishing the sound of his haori brushing against his shirt for comfort. He hoped it wasn't perceptible, but knowing Tanjiro, he was probably already an open book. "I just… I'm scared."

"You're not alone there, Zenitsu. It's scary to be vulnerable with your emotions in this way. I'm kind of in awe of how often you used to do it!"

Zenitsu slowly moved his left arm to grip his right sleeve, pinching at the fabric to make more of that familiar sound. With his arm crossed over his body almost like a hug and acting as the tiniest of barriers, he braved a glance at Tanjiro through his tears.

The sun brought out the redder shades cascading through their hair so beautifully. Their face, so soft and kind, looked at him with nothing but patience and care. Those eyes were trained on him but didn't linger. Unlike Inosuke, who would lock gazes with him with an unrelenting intensity, Tanjiro let their gaze softly wander from forehead to shoulder, sometimes to his arms.

It was nice to have the reprieve. Zenitsu felt a bit less self-conscious about wiping away his tears with the knowledge he wasn't breaking some sudden staring contest. Yet another way Tanjiro made him feel safe.

Gripping his sleeve tight, he tried to speak. "I. I love Inosuke. I also love you. He said he wouldn't be jealous, but I'm still scared. I've…"

He cut himself off, looking to Tanjiro. They smiled encouragingly, a small blush blessing their face with more beautiful reds.

"I've begged girls to date or marry me before, but that was just begging to not be left alone. Like, fully alone." Zenitsu sighed, letting his gaze slide off of Tanjiro's face. Guilt creeping into his soul. Was it greedy to want more of Tanjiro? "You and Inosuke and Nezuko are my home. I don't, well, shouldn't feel like I'm going to be left behind anymore. And that should be enough, but my heart wants more and-"

Zenitsu felt a hand softly cover his that had been gripping yellow fabric tight to the point of trembling. Another calloused hand found its way to his cheek and wiped away the many tears he hadn't noticed forming and blurring his whole vision.

"Zenitsu. It's alright to want something that's offered."

"I don't know what's offered. I assumed and got told my kisses were slimy. I don't want to assume anything anymore." Zenitsu said, feeling bad for his choice of wording. He held no grudge against Inosuke, but it still stung.

Tanjiro just laughed, earning a yelp and glare from Zenitsu. "Sorry, sorry, I'm just pretty sure deep kisses are supposed to be slimy? That's how mouths work."

"Well. Yeah." Zenitsu pouted a little, but it was hard to while his cheek was cradled so carefully and so (dare he say?) lovingly.

"May I kiss you and find out?"

Fear shot through Zenitsu like ice to his spine and he instinctively listened for another sound not too far away. His gaze shot to Inosuke, who somehow felt it and returned the look.

"Yes you can kiss them, Idiot!" Inosuke yelled, letting go of the ropes holding the huge boulders that were hung over the tree so he could put his hands on his hips.

Zenitsu flinched even before hearing the loud rumble to come from those rocks hitting the ground. He tried to cover his ears, but got beaten to it.

Warm, strong hands cupped his ears as the ground shook. Zenitsu could still hear it, but a familiar heartbeat kept his knees from giving out in his panic.

Safe-ty. Pro-tect. Cared-for. Tha-Thump. The double beats of Tanjiro's pulse hummed like a soothing mantra straight into his ears. He could listen to the sound forever.

"Kiss, please?" He asked softly, opening his eyes and being blessed with the sight of Tanjiro's sweet smile.

Sliding their hands down from his ears, Tanjiro slowly came to cup Zenitsu's cheeks. They seemed to scan him for any sign of hesitation before pulling him forward.

The kiss was tender, even if it was a bit short. They pressed their foreheads together afterwards and Zenitsu made a point to peck Tanjiro's nose with a tiny laugh at how red it made them.

"So you're alright with kisses?" Zenitsu asked.

"More than alright." Tanjiro rubbed both thumbs along Zenitsu's cheekbones slowly. The touch was almost scratchy with the lack of smoothness in their skin, but the sensation mixed with the almost imperceptible sound had Zenitsu melting.

Inosuke's familiar sound came closer and in the bliss of the touch, Zenitsu couldn't muster his usual insecurities. A familiar arm snuck under his arms and a hand went to card through his hair.

Predictably, Zenitsu slumped forward, his body supported by Inosuke, and his head supported by Tanjiro.

"So this is his off button. Use it wisely or he'll yell real loud." Inosuke said, massaging Zenitsu's scalp as he smiled proudly at Tanjiro.

"Oh, I'll definitely keep that in mind." Tanjiro said playfully, laughing affectionately as Zenitsu seemed to drift off to sleep in pure bliss right before their eyes.

"He's also most ticklish around the neck." Inosuke continued, "And sometimes when he's overthinking, nothing will help. You can always tag me in if you need."

Tanjiro smiled in gratitude. Inosuke wasn't one to share most anything, but with Zenitsu he seemed eager to! His smell was one of genuine joy, and had been since the moment he'd approached.

"Are there any rules you'd like to set, Inosuke?"

"Yes! I get first dibs at cuddles if I feel bad, but you're always welcome to join. Also if anything is bothering you, say it."

"Got it." Tanjiro suddenly had an armful of sleeping Zenitsu as Inosuke pulled his arm away. They had to readjust to properly support him, but smelling that rare scent of calm contentment from Zenitsu made their heart warm. Holding him this close was wonderful.

"Just be you, you make everyone happy, Kentaro." Inosuke ruffled their hair affectionately.

Whatever that made Inosuke and Tanjiro to each other, who knew. But they both cherished Zenitsu in their own ways and were more than content to combine their efforts. The three of them were happy together, that's all that mattered.

...

"WHO SAID YOU COULD TELL TANJIRO I'M TICKLISH YOU DAMN BOAR!?"

Being happy together and winning at tickle fights. That's all that mattered.

#aromantic Inosuke #bisexual zenitsu #they/them tanjiro #kny fanfic #demon slayer fanfic #can be read alone but is better with context #I'm doing it. I'm tagging it.#qpr inotanzen

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