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tickle-bugs · 3 years

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Patience (and Silence) is a Virtue

Summary: In his commitment to restlessness, Anakin discovers something about Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan can't let him get away with that, of course.

Anon: Hi I don't know if you're taking prompts at the moment but would you consider writing a fic where Obi wan is tickling anakin, maybe where it's during the clone wars and anakin is being restless and teasing Obi wan so he decides to put him in his place?? Or something obviously if you're not taking prompts don't worry! But if you're that would be really cute

Do not tag this as ship. Don't do it.

Anakin had a critical inability to stay still, Obi-Wan noticed. He had become calmer and more focused under his wing, sure, but he was restless to his very core. Other Jedi masters would certainly have found his fidgeting to be a nuisance, something to be expunged--Obi-Wan saw it as human. For the things they’d seen and had to do, a little humanity was very welcome.

Except now, of course.

Anakin paced past Obi-Wan for nearly the twentieth time this hour--he’d been doing laps around the room at a speed that’d put any trooper to shame. Obi-Wan’s attempts at meditation had given him some measure of calm, but inner peace was hard to find with your protégé stomping past you every moment.

“We are wasting time.”

“There’s nothing to be done but wait,” Obi-Wan murmured, unwilling to release his patterned breathing.

“I can’t just sit around.” Anakin switched directions, pacing the other way.

“You are far too eager, Anakin.” Obi-Wan shifted slightly, but did not rise.

“And you are far too boring!” He snapped, but it held no real venom. Obi-Wan sighed deeply, dropping his head, and the relaxation promptly left his bones. He stood, brushing himself off, and Anakin watched him tensely.

“Perhaps a bit of sparring would do you some good.” Obi-Wan drew his lightsaber and beckoned him closer, already assuming a combat position. Anakin drew his, twirling it idly, and they circled each other.

For all of Anakin’s restlessness, he paid rapt attention in the field. Obi-Wan could see the gears turning in his head as they circled one another, waiting for Anakin to inevitably make the first move.

They exchanged a flurry of blows, sending blue sparks flying into the air around them. One of the strikes set Obi-Wan unexpectedly off-balance and Anakin used the opportunity to press his advantage, crowding in closer to force a surrender. Obi-Wan smirked--he could never resist playing dirty when an opportunity arose--and squeezed Anakin’s side. He yelped, lightsaber flying into the air, and Obi-Wan caught it, sheathed it, and clipped it to his belt. He tried not to look too amused at Anakin’s pinkened face.

“Do you yield?”

“Never.” Anakin smirked, rushing forward. He swung at Obi-Wan and he simply leaned to avoid it, hands tucked primly behind his back. A mistimed strike gave him an opening--he sidestepped and shoved Anakin forward and away.

“Your impatience will cost you if you aren’t careful. Again.” Obi-Wan readied himself as Anakin charged. Of course, he could never make things easy, but if he moved a tad slower to let Anakin get a few hits in? Ah, who’s to say.

Anakin locked Obi-Wan’s arm behind his back and started twisting out another forced surrender. It would’ve worked too, if Anakin’s stance didn’t leave his free hand wide open. Another lesson for another day, perhaps.

Obi-Wan reached back and grabbed at Anakin’s side, but he didn’t let up this time. He felt Anakin’s forehead smack into his back and heard the faint laughter floating up, but it took quite a few stubborn seconds for Anakin to actually let go.

“Excellent work.” Obi-Wan held out the captive lightsaber. Anakin took it gratefully.

“You absolutely cheated.” The silly smile on his face was contagious.

“I prefer calling it ‘alternative strategy’. Either way, you did well.” Obi-Wan squeezed his shoulder.

“Thank you, Master.”

“Of course. Now, for my sanity, I implore you to clear your mind. I’m not sure how much more pacing I can take.” Obi-Wan took a seat on the ground, and when his padawan didn’t move, he patted the space next to him until Anakin followed suit.

He could sense Anakin’s mind slowing beside him, falling deeper into the tides of the Force, and the comfort of it enveloped him. Obi-Wan allowed himself to drift inwards. His spirit floated away from his physical form and deeper into his psyche, deeper into peace. Tension left him in droves. He inhaled.

The air punched out of him, though, when Anakin started poking his upper ribs. He tried not to startle so visibly, but it was a little late for that.

“Are you trying to accomplish anything in particular?” He cleared his throat. Anakin could smell weakness, he was certain of it.

“Juuust testing a theory.” Anakin’s prodding fingers marched down his ribs and his fingers twitched minutely.

“You will not find what you’re seeking.” Obi-Wan’s voice strained against his better intentions. It took all of his strength not to move and a little more to appear calm.

“Are you sure?” Anakin reached Obi-Wan’s sides and didn’t let up. He exhaled a little too hard. He couldn’t allow himself even a smile—Anakin would never let him live it down.

“Of course, I’m—“

A lone giggle shattered their dialogue.

“Woah.” Anakin beamed, slow and steady. The dangerous sparkle in his eye was about one of the only things that could make Obi-Wan nervous.

“Anakin, I’m warning you—“ He didn’t get to finish. Anakin’s hands darted through the various folds and layers of his robes, seeking easier purchase, and found a delightful (read: terrible) spot around his waistline that pulled snickers from him like fresh taffy. He folded forward, falling into fuller laughter at curious scribbles upon his stomach, and Anakin gasped in wonder.

This was so alien to him, a relic of a life long gone. He found himself trying and failing to break up a cage match between his human instincts and his Jedi ones. Had what little shred of pride he had not been at stake, he would’ve fallen over under Anakin’s absurdly nimble hands.

“This is the best day of my life.” Anakin laughed, letting his fingers slip beneath Obi-Wan’s arms, and the subsequent bark of laughter surprised them both.

It’s about to be your last. Though he couldn’t possibly stay mad at the way Anakin was lit up. Perhaps it would be alright to let him win. Just once in a while.

Not today, though.

“I wish you hadn’t done that.” He hit Anakin with a gentle pulse of the Force, enough to push him back. Anakin’s face settled into playful terror in real time and he fled, making a hopeless dash for the door. Obi-Wan watched him run--he’d gotten faster lately--before grabbing him by the belt with the Force and throwing him back across the room. He caught Anakin bodily in his arms.

“No, wait—“

“Consider this a lesson in patience, ambition, and sensitivity. Especially the latter.” Obi-Wan locked his arms around Anakin’s waist and lifted him clear off the ground, burying his fingers into as much torso as he could. He burst into squeaky laughter, rife with voice cracks, and threw his head back, narrowly avoiding cracking open Obi-Wan’s nose.

“Oh, looks like you may have a thing or two to teach me!” Obi-Wan grabbed handfuls of Anakin’s sides and he snorted around his next bout of laughter.

“Obi-Wan pleahahase!”

“You know I am not a stickler for rules, but do remember your manners. You could get in some nasty trouble.” He swept Anakin’s feet out from under him, still tickling, and lowered him to the ground, taking great care to avoid the flailing limbs.

“I’m gonna die!” Anakin fruitlessly scrabbled at Obi-Wan’s torso to get the upper hand. Obi-Wan hooked his arm around Anakin’s and pulled it up, exposing the perfect landing strip for pinching fingers.

“Nonsense. You’re so close to being free! Wiggle out from my grip there—oh, you’ve made it worse. Hm.” Obi-Wan clawed at Anakin’s stomach with two hands and an iron grip. Anakin tried to pry the evil hands away, but his strength and coordination had evacuated long ago.

He swung his legs back and forth, kicking wildly, and Obi-Wan was proud of the little momentum he had. It was a clever idea--using momentum to break free of the hold. A fruitless idea, but a clever one nonetheless. Obi-Wan crossed his arms over Anakin’s torso, burying his hands beneath his arms, and the resulting shriek had Obi-Wan chuckling.

“This is wonderfully endearing, Anakin, but not at all effective.” On the next swing, Obi-Wan caught Anakin’s knee and wormed his fingers behind it. Anakin threw his head back and cackled wildly, all bright smiles and nose-scrunched laughter, and Obi-Wan had no qualms with admitting how much the sight lifted his spirits.

“I see the problem. You’re laughing too hard to focus.”

“You thihink?” Anakin squinted at him.

“I do. Try laughing less and see where that gets you.” Obi-Wan rained a hail of pinches down upon his hips and the fight was lost. Anakin made a noise like a ship’s hyperdrive starting up and flailed hard—he caught Obi-Wan in the chest with a stray punch. An endless stream of high-pitched, hysterical giggles bubbled out of Anakin and he did his best to muffle them, but Obi-Wan’s fingers on his neck ensured that he couldn’t.

“You’re turning rather red. Is something the matter?” Gloating was unbecoming, sure, but the two of them had always done things a bit differently. Besides, this was beyond endearing. He’d earned a little teasing.

“I give!” Anakin yelped, scrunching as much as possible. Obi-Wan’s fingers slowed.

“Good. You seemed intent on passing out.” Obi-Wan poked his stomach and Anakin snickered.

“One day,” Anakin wheezed, “I am going to destroy you.”

“I would love to see you try.” Obi-Wan extended a hand towards Anakin, glowing with pride, and he took it.

Did Anakin’s promise send a minute shiver up his spine? Perhaps, but he was never one to turn down an entertaining fight.

#my fics #star wars #ticklish!obi wan #ticklish!anakin #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #i dont like this one all that much but im gonna give it a sequel! i think it's gonna be cute :)

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ticklishfiend · 3 years

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Cool Beans (My Hero Academia)

Pairings : Lee!Ojiro / Ler!Bakusquad (minor lee!bkg, ler!kiri with kiribaku!!!)

A/N : aaa this was a rlly cute prompt, tysm anon! took me a while to write this considering i wasn't really sure how to write for ojiro's character haha. i also don't think the toe bean thing is canon whatsoever but guess what, neither is kiribaku and u dont see me shutting up abt them do u? either way, hope u guys enjoy this!! much love <333

Summary : Denki decides to invite Ojiro to one of the Bakusquad's weekly sleepovers, and once they both arrive, is shocked to find that Ojiro has...toe beans? No way he can't investigate those! (even if they do turn out to be a bit sensitive...)

Word Count : 3651

⚠️quick heads up!! i had to add some lines after the "keep reading" so tumblr wouldn't mess up the writing! pls ignore them, they have nothing to do with the actual story!⚠️

REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!!! MWAH <333

. . .

“Here, just glue that last paper down and we should be done!” Denki clapped his hands together with a wide smile, his tongue poking out of his teeth in excitement as Ojiro pasted the last picture onto their poster board for the night.

The pair had been working on a group project together for the past two days, and after hours of pretty heavy research and planning, they were finally finished, and Denki could not be more thrilled to not have to work anymore tonight. He’s had a good time with Ojiro the past two days, though, and wasn’t really ready to just part ways with him just yet. He’d never really hung out with the guy much before this, and as it turns out they got along much better than he would’ve initially guessed. No way Denki was just gonna give up the chances of a new good friend.

///

“So that’s it, right? We didn’t, like, forget a chunk did we?” Ojiro asked cautiously, knowing Denki was one to often forget important details like that. The electric teen sat in genuine thought for a moment, before popping his mouth with a smile.

“Nope! We’re all good, man,” Denki stood from his spot on the floor, moving the poster over to another side of the room and picking up his bookbag, turning back around to face Ojiro who was busy putting stuff away in his drawers. “Hey, um, me and a couple others are having a sleepover in the common room tonight. Would you wanna join us? I’ve kinda enjoyed hanging out with you these past few days so I think it’d be pretty fun if you went!”

Ojiro looked at him with an almost shocked expression on his face for a moment, eyebrows raised and mouth just slightly agape. “O-Oh, um...sure!” He looked towards his bedroom door a little warily and almost like he was confused, looking back to Denki with a thumb pointed towards the door. “Is it happening, like, now, or…?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah Bakugou and Kirishima already finished their project so they’re probably down there right now, but you can just come down whenever you feel like it! I’ve gotta grab a few pillows and my blanket first but I’ll be down there in just a minute.”

“Alright then, um...I guess I’ll meet you there?”

“Sure thing, man! I’ll tell the others you’ll be coming,” Denki gave Ojiro a big thumbs up before practically bouncing his way out the door and towards his own room to grab his stuff. This was definitely gonna be a fun night.

…

It took a while for Ojiro to get his stuff together for the night, wanting to make sure he had everything so he wouldn’t have to walk back to his room in the middle of the night and risk waking any of the light-sleepers of the dorm. But, once he was sure he had everything and had hyped himself up enough to do it, he finally made his way out of his bedroom, walking towards the common area with his pillow and blanket in hand.

Upon entry, Denki’s whole little friend group was sat lounging around the common areas. Bakugou and Kirishima were cuddled together under the same blanket at the corner of one of the couches, while Mina was on the opposing side of the same couch under her own pink and purple blanket. Sero sat on his own little chair, while Denki sat on the floor on top of an orange bean bag someone must have brought from their own room. Ojiro took a deep breath in before marching his way towards them, waving his arm that held his pillow under the armpit.

“Hey guys!” Ojiro greeted with a smile, all the teens turning around to face him with smiles of their own (well, all except for Bakugou, but Ojiro took no offense to that).

“Ayyye, it’s the Tailster!” Sero chuckled from his spot on the chair, giving Ojiro a little nod in welcome. Denki hopped off his beanbag excitedly, speeding his way behind Sero’s chair to grab a purple bean bag he must’ve brought just for Ojiro’s company. He plopped it right down next to his orange one, showing it off with pride.

“Jirou let me borrow this tonight! I invited her over too but apparently she had plans with Momo,” Denki rolled his eyes playfully with a grin, pretending to gag with a finger in his mouth.

“Booooo, love sucks!” Sero heckled with his hands cupping around his mouth, chuckling when Bakugou threw a throw pillow at him from his spot cuddled up against Kirishima.

Ojiro giggled at their playfulness, sitting his pillow down beside his beanbag before sitting himself down on it comfortably. “Thanks for inviting me, you guys, seriously.”

“Babes, of course!” Mina exclaimed from her spot behind Ojiro on the couch. “We love having you around, Oji!”

“Yeah man, what she said!” Kirishima spoke up, pointing at Mina in agreement. “You’re a super manly dude, Ojiro. We were so excited when Denki told us you said you’d come!”

“Dude, even Bakugou was psyched,” Sero smirked, pointing his thumb at a now seething Bakugou.

“I was not PSYCHED you Spider-Man wannabe! He’s just less annoying than any of you bastards; thought it’d be a nice change of pace for once,” Bakugou rolled his eyes, slumping into Kirishima’s chest with his arms crossed like a pouting toddler. Kirishima just giggled at his boyfriend’s little temper tantrum, scratching at his scalp just the way he knew the blonde loved (which immediately calmed him down from any previous rage he felt towards the, quote, “Spider-Man Wannabe”).

Denki threw himself onto the bean bag next to Ojiro, TV remote in hand as he grinned up towards the tailed hero-in-training. “It’s a Disney movie night; got any suggestions as our guest of honor?”

Ojiro sat in thought for a minute, scratching at his chin as he scanned through all the past Disney films he’d watched over the years through his head. “Hm...Wreck It Ralph?”

“Oh FUCK yeah, this guy’s coming to every movie night from here on out!” Bakugou exclaimed, the compliment making Ojiro feel a little sheepish as he chuckled shyly. The others nodded in agreement, Denki getting the movie ready on the TV from his position propped up on the beanbag.

Once the movie had started, Ojiro decided he wanted to make himself a little more cozy now that he felt more comfortable around the group of other teens. He laid his pillow down on the floor, lounging back against the beanbag and propping up his feet on the soft cushion. Denki glanced over towards Ojiro when he noticed the movement, his eyes naturally gazing towards the boy’s now propped up feet. Denki gasped in excitement when he saw something he had never noticed before on the boy.

“Dude! You’ve got little toe beans!” The electric blonde pointed eagerly down at Ojiro’s feet, the tailed teen blushing slightly at the attention. Denki scooted in closer to his feet, looking intently at the little pink buds on his soles and toes. “No way, this is so cool! Can I touch them?”

“U-Uh, sure, just be gentle please,” Ojiro scratched at his neck sheepishly, unable to keep down the blush pushing at his cheeks and ears from the attention.

Sero suddenly hopped down from his spot on his chair, plopping down next to Denki to get a look at Ojiro’s feet as well. “Yup. Tailster’s got beans.”

Ojiro chuckled at the nickname before flinching when he felt a single finger touch down on the pink pad right under his toes. Denki used the pads of his fingers to idly trace and feel around the flesh, and Ojiro couldn’t help the way his toes tried to instinctively curl up at the sensation.

“They’re so soft, I could do this forever,” Denki sighed, continuing to brush little shapes into the pads. Ojiro gasped with a small jerk when he felt a nail accidentally scrape against the skin, and Denki instinctively pulled his hand back in shock. “Oh, dude, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

Ojiro shook his head immediately. “No, you didn’t hurt me, it’s okay! It’s just...the uh, the ‘beans’ are a little...um…sensitive.”

Ojiro could see Sero raise an eyebrow at the word, a small grin appearing on his face as he nudged Denki in the shoulder with his elbow. “I think what Oji’s tryna say is, his beans are ticklish.” Sero glanced at the embarrassed Ojiro, Denki following suit with a large grin plastered on his face.

“Aww, that’s so cute! Kaminari, tickle his beans!” Mina giggled from her spot on the couch, Bakugou rolling his eyes at their silliness. The angry blonde pointed an accusatory finger towards Ojiro, the tailed boy’s eyes a little wide at the intimidation.

“Don’t be fuckin’ loud, Tail, I’m tryna watch the movie you picked out,” Bakugou grumbled, dropping his arm and pushing himself further into Kirishima’s chest as the red-head played with his hair soothingly.

Before Ojiro could respond, he yipped when he felt two teasing nails scratch slowly along the padding on his feet, his leg jerking back only to be stopped by Denki grabbing his ankle and holding the appendage in place.

“Ah ah ah, no getting away now, Oji! I wanna test this out a little more,” Denki chuckled, scribbling his two fingers into the bean. Ojiro gasped, quickly clamping his hands onto his mouth to muffle any giggles that threatened to burst out. Denki continued his slow, ticklish touches while looking over towards Sero. “Sero, get the other foot for me.”

“With pleasure~,” Sero chuckled, gently grabbing Ojiro’s other ankle and scribbling his fingers along the pad on his arch. Finally, Ojiro’s dam broke, muffled giggles being heard from behind his palms as he squirmed in his beanbag.

“Guhuhuys! Nohoho!” He giggled, gently pulling at his trapped feet to no avail. He really didn’t want to kick them, and was almost a little glad they were holding him by his ankles to prevent it, but at the same time it tickled so so badly and he didn’t know how much longer he could take it before he was gonna start to scream laugh.

“Does it really tickle?” Denki asked honestly, but the question only made Ojiro blush even harder behind his hands, the electric teen unintentionally teasing him beyond belief. “I’m gonna go faster, okay? I wanna test and see if it tickles more like that.”

Ojiro nodded shyly, before shrieking at the feeling of three fingers scribbling even faster along the pads of his foot, Sero’s hand still scribbling rather slowly on his other foot, but oh so teasingly.

“GYAHAHA! Kaminahahari! Guhuhuys! It tihihickles!” Ojiro cackled, keeping one hand over his mouth while the other went to grip at the side of his bean bag for support.

“Get his toes ones, you idiots. The toes always tickle worse,” Bakugou called from the couch, Kirishima giggling beside him.

“Yeah, you would know, wouldn’t you Bakugou?” Kirishima teased, pinching Bakugou’s side under the blanket and causing the blonde to yelp before hitting the redhead in the chest playfully with a frown.

Denki heard Bakugou loud and clear, moving his fingers up to scribble along the pads covering Ojiro’s toes. The poor tailed boy squealed, his kicking and thrashing getting a little more aggressive as Sero also moved upwards to mimic Denki’s tickling.

“NAHAHA! STHAHAHAP! IT TICKLES SOHOHO MUHUHUCH WOHOHORSE!” Ojiro cackled, both of his hands shooting down to clutch at his tummy that was convulsing from laughter. “PLEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAHAN’T TAHAHAKE IT!”

“Oh c’moooon Oji! You’re a hero in training! I’d think you could handle a couple bean-tickles!” Sero teased, switching to pinch at the pad with his finger and thumb. Ojiro screamed through his giggle fit, making Bakugou groan and grab the remote to turn on the subtitles.

“NOHOHO! NOHOHO PIHIHINCHING! PLEHEHEASE!” Ojiro pleaded, his eyes squeezed so tightly shut that he could see little colorful fireworks in the darkness of his eyelids. Kaminari just giggled, pinching at the boy’s big toe despite his desperate pleas.

“You’re really ticklish, man! Is it like this everywhere or just your beans?” Denki raised an eyebrow before glancing over towards his three friends on the couch. Mina squealed excitedly, knowing exactly what the blonde was implying, while Bakugou just groaned into Kirishima’s chest.

“I don't wanna moveeeee,” Bakugou whined, making Kirishima just roll his eyes with a smile. Kirishima pinched Bakugou’s side again without stopping this time, making Bakugou jerk with a few choked giggles. “N-Nohoho! Kihihiri!”

“I’ll just tickle you ‘til you help us tickle Ojiro, Kats,” Kirishima teased into the blonde's ear, who promptly scrunched up his shoulder and batted at the boy’s face.

“Fihihihine! I’ll hehehelp! Just quhuhuit!” he giggled, huffing when Kirishima finally relented. They both moved from their cozy spot on the couch, the three of them getting down on the floor next to Ojiro. Denki and Sero had momentarily stopped their tickling at this point to give the boy a breather, but still held onto his ankles firmly as to not let him escape just yet.

“Guys, w-wait, hold on-” Ojiro pleaded with a blush before being hushed by Mina.

“Sorry, Oji, but this is a tickle-friendly group! Might have to get used to it if you wanna spend more time with us!” Mina giggled, plopping down on his right side while Bakugou took his right. Kirishima sat behind him, quickly hooking his arms under Ojiro’s and pulling him back some to give the others access to his torso.

“Which we definitely want you to do! You’re super fun, Ojiro, and we wanna keep spending time with you!” Kirishima smiled, though Ojiro couldn’t exactly see it as Kirishima was behind his head. “And hey, if you really really need us to stop, our safeword is ‘koala’!”

“I came up with that one,” Denki chuckled proudly, holding a hand to his chest.

“That’s...that’s really nice of you guys to say,” Ojiro smiled with flushed cheeks, sighing before bringing his head up to face them. “Alright, I’m ready. Someone should probably sit on my tail, though; I’m really ticklish and sometimes it goes a little out of control.”

“No problem, buddy! Bakugou; tail,” Kirshima pointed with his finger extended towards Bakugou, who just rolled his eyes and plopped down on his tail. “Comfy?”

“Y-Yeah, just hurry up, I’m not sure I can take waiting any longeR-HRG! HEHEHEHAHAHA! NAHAHAHA GAHAHAD!” Ojiro cackled wildy as all the teens around him dug into his sensitive body. Mina scribbled her finger in the hollow on his right armpit, while Bakugou took a much rougher approach, digging his fingers into the grooves of Ojiro’s ribs and vibrating mercilessly. Denki and Sero continued their incessant assault upon his so-called “toe beans,” scribbling wildly with their fingernails and leaving Ojiro an absolute mess underneath them. Kirishima got a little bored just being Ojiro’s physical captor, and took to blowing teasing air along the backs of Ojiro’s ears, which resulted in him scrunching up his neck with high-pitched squeals.

“Aww, he’s so ticklish!” Mina cooed, massaging circles with her thumb into Ojiro’s armpit, making the teen jerk and writhe under her assault with vicious cackles.

“It’s fucking hilarious, he’s losing his goddamn mind,” Bakugou chuckled, moving his fingers down to pinch along Ojiro’s sides right above his hips. Ojiro screamed, thrashing under their hold with desperate cackles and pleas.

“NAHAHAHA! BAHAHAHKUGOGOGOU! NAHAT THEHEHERE!” Ojiro’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut, his body trying desperately to wiggle away from those torturous fingers that refused to relent on his sensitive sides.

“Aww, someone’s got really ticklish sides!” Denki teased, pinching at Ojiro’s big toe pad while having to hold on to his ankle for dear life so he didn’t kick it out of his pin.

“PLEHEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAHAN’T!!” he bursted, his body trying to curl in on itself from the ticklish sensations. “I’LL DOHOHO ANYTHIHIHING!”

“Looks like we’ve got a beggar,” Sero chuckled, scratching relentlessly at those little beans. “Tell you what, Oji; promise to come to our next sleepover and you’ve got a deal.”

“I PROHOHOMISE! I PROHOMISE JUHUHUST PLEHEHEHASE! NO MOHOHORE TIHIHICKLES!” Ojiro begged through his giggling mirth. Those fingers against his sides just would not let up, as Bakugou was quite the mean tickler he’d come to find out, and he really didn’t know how much longer he could stand it. It was incessant, it was torturous, it was...it was so much fun.

“Oh yeah? You wanna bring us some snacks too?” Bakugou added, one hand continuing it’s deathly ticklish attack on the boy’s sides, while the other took to scribbling along Ojiro’s stomach and pinching at the pudge when he felt absolutely necessary.

“YEHEHES! ANYTHIHIHING!”

“Hmmm...what snacks do you guys like for a movie?” Denki asked, as if he wasn’t in the middle of pinching and scribbling at his friend’s sensitive feet and making the boy thrash and cackle cries of mirth underneath him. “I could probably go for some sour gummy worms. Sero?”

“Oh, definitely some Reeses Pieces. Goes great with popcorn,” Sero grinned, looking calmly towards Bakugou who was very evilly grinning while squeezing torturously along Ojiro’s sides. “Bakugou?”

“Hot Cheetos, easy. Forget those next time and this will look like child’s play in comparison,” Bakugou chuckled lowly, Denki raising an eyebrow at him.

“Dude...this is child’s play. We’re literally having a tickle fight right now,” Denki grinned, the background melody of Ojiro’s desperate cackles making him giggle from the contagion.

“SHUT UP, SPARKY!” Bakugou yelled, which only made him drill even harder into the boy’s sensitive flesh.

“NAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHASE STAHAHAHP! ANYTHING YOHOHU WAHAHAHNT! I CAN’T TAHAHAHAKE IHIHIT!”

“Alright, alright, just two more snacks for you to jot on your mental list and you’ll be good to go!” Kirishima hyped the cackling boy underneath him, but looked to his friends to mentally tell them, ‘give the boy a second to breathe.’ They all slowed their tickling down some, still not relenting fully, but instead reducing Ojiro to a pile of happy, giddy giggles instead of the desperate cackling cries he had just seconds before. Kirishima smiled at the adorable sound. “I’ll take...hmm...I’ll take some jerky! Mina?”

Mina stopped her assault on the boy entirely, Ojiro opening a tear-filled eye to glance at her through his giggles. “I’m more of a fruit girl, so I’ll have to go with…” Mina grinned, pulling up Ojiro’s shirt to reveal his bare tummy, her face leaning down close enough where the boy could feel her breath brush against the skin, sending goosebumps across the expanse. He sucked in his stomach much to no avail. Mina smirked evilly up at Ojiro, his eyes now wide and his mouth still spilling giggle after giggle from the slowly tickling fingers along his side and feet. “...raspberries.”

Ojiro’s eyes widened. “No! Nonono, not thahahat! Wahahait, Mina pleheh-EHEASE! GYAHAHA STAHAHAP! NAHAHAHA!” Ojiro cackled and kicked as he felt Mina place teasing raspberry after teasing raspberry along his bare and ticklish tummy, He wiggled and squirmed to no avail until Mina finally let up, sitting up and back against her hands on the floor with her own little giggle.

Everyone finally stopped their tickling, letting go of the boy’s limbs and backing off to let him breathe. Denki chuckled at Ojiro’s heaving breaths and residual giggles, patting his calf in comfort. “You okay, Oji?”

Ojiro just nodded with a giggle, holding up a big thumbs up. “Yuhup, all good here.”

Kirishima smiled widely, clapping his hands together once before patting Ojiro on the shoulder in support, shaking the boy around a little. “You did great, man! Way better than I could ever handle a good tickling!” the redhead chuckled.

“Yeah, man, you were a total champ,” Sero grinned, holding up two thumbs up to the tailed boy who just smiled back at him.

“I’ll go grab you some water from the kitchen, cutie! Get comfy on the couch, I’ll take the beanbag,” Mina ruffled his hair as she stood from her spot on the floor, skipping her way to the kitchen to grab him a glass of water. He watched her leave, seeing Bakugou stand up from the corner of his eye. The explosive teen just plopped back down on his spot on the couch like nothing had happened, unpausing the movie and making grabby hands towards Kirishima. The redhead just chuckled and obeyed the boy, getting up and throwing himself on the couch to cuddle Bakugou back under their shared blanket.

Denki just rolled his eyes at the gross lovey-dovey display, standing up and offering a hand to Ojiro. “Seriously, man, you’re getting that other spot on the couch after all that. Waaay comfier than this old beanbag,” Denki smiled as Ojiro took Denki’s hand, letting out a huff of air as he pulled Ojiro off the floor. Ojiro plopped himself down on the couch tiredly, letting out a small ‘oof!’ when Sero threw his pillow at him before laying his blanket down on top of him.

“Get comfy, we sleep in here,” Sero smiled before walking back towards his own seat. Mina finally made it back from the kitchen, handing Ojiro the glass of water with a smile.

Ojiro just sat there, almost dumbfounded for a moment at their kindness. “Um...thanks, guys. You’re all like...super duper nice.”

“Aww, babes!” Mina pouted happily, her hands shooting to her chest over the spot that contained her swelling heart. “You’re such a sweetheart, of course we’d be nice to you!”

“Can you guys shut the fuck up already? Shit, I’m tryna watch the goddamn movie,” bakugou grumbled, pouting like a child against Kirishima’s chest.

Ojiro really couldn’t have asked for a better group of friends, and he was so happy they felt the same way about him.

. . .

A/N : aaa i hope u enjoyed that!! if u did, pls consider reblogging, it helps my fic to reach more ppl!! much love to u all, mwah!! <33

#tickle fic #my fic #tickling #tickle community #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #anime tickles #anime tickling #katsuki bakugou #kirishima eijrio #denki kaminari #sero hanta #mina ashido #ojiro mashirao #bakuquad #mha tickles #mha tickling

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arknights-imagines · 3 years

Note

henlo!! could i request a mountain/doc imagine where an unexpected attack is launched upon the doctor and mountain quickly goes to protect them? if possible, could fluff be incorporated into this too?

..man, the line where mountain says; “rest assured, im here to protect you” had me turning into a small blob…

Hiya anon!! 🥳 Tysm for this request, it's so sweet sgshsgsh!! 🥺💕

Sbjshsjs Mountain is a great character!! Aaa he really grew on me while I was writing this, I'll happy write for him again!! 👉👈 and yes, some of his voice lines are so gentle and sweet sgshsgsh!! 🥺😭 I can definitely see why you transformed into a blob because of them lolol

I incorporated the voice line you mentioned into the writing piece just because it fit so well! 🙏 This is my first time writing for Mountain so I hope I handled his character okay 🥺👉👈

Tysm and please enjoy!! 🥳 Hopefully I did Mountain justice sbjshsjs 🌸

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Safe Haven

Imagine format; mixed perspectives (written in second person!)

Contains: Mountain, gender-neutral Doctor as the reader, brief mentions of explosions and injuries, fear, slight violence, very vague spoilers for Episode 8 regarding the Reunion, implied established relationship (Sort of? It's up to the reader!), and a fluffy ending at the end!! 🥺

Word count: 1.8k!

--------------------

You weren't prepared. How could you have been? It all happened in mere seconds.

A small groan left your lips as you regained consciousness, ‘What...happened?’; you recalled being distubed by yelling while you were reviewing a battle formation, sitting around idly and waiting for Amiya to brief you on the squad’s next steps. Before you could investigate, a massive, ear-splitting explosion erupted in the center of the camp, tossing you backwards into crates of cargo - the bomb might as well have gone off inside of your head, because it shook you so much that every thought in your brain had scattered.

How they found the small Rhodes Island camp that had been set up, you didn’t know; you didn't even know who ‘they’ were. But that was irrelevant, first priority was figuring out what had happened and evacuating.

Considering the pain that was throbbing through your body, you were in no state to move, and you were most definitely in no state to think critically, but you forced your mind to gather itself regardless - now was no time to start floundering.

As you sat with your back against what was probably one of the crates you had been thrown into, your vision came into focus; your eyes flicked around in an attempt to get a better grip on your surroundings. There was billowing, thick smoke coming from farther away and the camp tents you could see were collapsed, flapping limply in the wind - you didn't see any Rhodes Island Operators or staff nearby.

Your eyes grew wide when they caught view of your arm; most of it was being pinned under a cargo crate, one too heavy for you to pull your arm from under it. Unfortunately, before you could even begin looking for a way to free your limb from its trap, the sound of nearing footsteps and voices sent a frisson of cold shock through your body: “Did you find them yet?” There was a beat of silence before a second voice answered, confused, “Find who?” An aggravated groan came from the first speaker, “Who else; the one called the Doctor! One of you better find them now, or this’ll all be for nothing!”

For a moment, your heart stopped in your chest - these people were looking for you, and there was clear malice in their intent. Panic began making your heart palpitate and your stomach feel heavy; you were in no condition to fight, with your arm stuck you couldn’t run, and the only thing keeping you hidden was a few crates of cargo.

One of the voices from before caused your shaky breaths to halt; “Did you check over there?” There was a pause, then another voice replied, “Those cargo crates? No…” They trailed off - when you began hearing footsteps nearing, tendrils of heavy dread constricted your chest. You screwed your eyes shut, bracing for a hit, a yell, or whatever came next.

You heard the crate in front of you scrape the ground; even with your eyelids shut tight and your limbs - apart from your trapped arm - pulled inward you could still feel a menacing aura hang over you when the crate was pulled aside. You had been found.

Your assailant took in a sharp intake of breath before spitting their words out, “There you are. Trying to hide, are yo- UGH!!” Their pained yell caused you to jolt, as if ice water had been poured over your form, and finally your eyes snapped open. Your assailant had been slammed into the ground, and when your gaze looked up - your widened eyes came upon a familiar, imposing figure of white and black.

“Mountain?” Your call of his name came out as a gasp, filled with uneven amounts of fear, confusion and relief. Over your assailant he stood tall and threatening. His ears perked up at the sound of your voice, and when he met your eyes his own softened by a hair. The Feline must've only read the fear in your voice, because his next words tried to bring you ease, despite being a stark contrast to his following actions - “Doctor, calm yourself. I’m right here; rest assured, I’m here to protect you.” He then returned his attention to your disoriented assailant; with a yank of their ankle and a harsh blow to the face by Mountain, they were no longer a threat.

The Guard Operator was crouched before you seconds after, hands surprisingly gentle when they came to rest on your shoulders, “They’ve been dealt with. Now breathe, Doctor.” His tone was firm and steady - you followed his instructions and let the tension release from your body. Eyes carefully scanning over your form, Mountain took note of your trapped arm before you could point it out yourself. Carefully, he lifted the crate and laid your arm in your lap; you were bleeding, but thankfully the pain wasn’t unbearable.

As the Feline helped you to your feet, he spoke again, “Are you hurt anywhere else?” You shook your head, “N-No, I don't think so…” A nod came from him in reply, “You need to stay alert, there's still more of them searching for you.”

Expression now less panicked and full of thankfulness, you looked up at him, “Thank you Mountain, thank you. I was worried that no one was coming-” “I owe my life to you, I would never leave you to fend for yourself.” The sincerity in his voice caused your heart to warm - unfortunately the sensation was ephemeral, cut short by the distant pounding footsteps and shouting racing closer. The people after you were clearly persistent.

Firm but gentle, Mountain pushed you behind him before standing in front of you protectively. He looked towards the direction of the clamor, then spoke to you quietly from over his shoulder, “Doctor, stay close and follow my lead. I’ll protect you.” At those words, the icey fear in your body melted; it was as if you had been standing in a bitter Kjerag snowstorm and the Feline had come to wrap you in a soft, warm blanket.

Your assailants approached fast; they had you and Mountain surrounded within moments. Like a fire, his aura roared with intensity - though it intimidated your attackers all you felt was safety. The Feline’s tone of voice didn't waver once as he addressed the crowd around both you and himself, “If you want them, you’re going to have to get through me.” Finally, he readied his fists,

“Bring it on, you scoundrels!”

…

“You’re awake. Don’t be afraid, I’m right here.”

Rather than jolting awake, a certain Feline’s voice gently coaxed you into consciousness. Eyelids fluttering open, you mumbled Mountain’s name softly; your head rested in his lap and his coat was draped over your body, acting as a blanket. Your gaze scanned around a little more - the wound on your arm was now dressed with bandages, and you were no longer at the Rhodes Island campsite, but it didn't look like you were back at the landship either.

Before you could ask, the Guard Operator spoke first, “Amiya had called in air support to transport everyone away from danger just after the explosion. We and the rest who were stationed at the camp are flying back to Rhodes Island as I speak.” He paused, and you let out an audible sigh of relief, “The attackers fled, and they were quite uncoordinated. It’s unlikely that they’ll pursue you again. This is simply a guess but… I assume they must’ve been whatever is left of the Reunion.”

Understanding, you nodded a little. A comfortable silence soon embraced the both of you; you lost yourself in thought and Mountain’s eyes looked down towards his lap, studying your facial features gently. Your voice was gentle when it broke the quietness - “Mountain? Thank you again, for protecting me back at the camp. I mean it.”

The Feline tilted his head to the side and lifted a brow up, “You’re thanking me again? I can't tell if you’re being sincere or repetitive.” Absent-mindedly, his palm hovered where your arm was draped over the middle of your torso, “Don’t worry. Protecting you is… important to me. You are important to me.” He hesitated for a moment, but then his larger hand came to rest upon yours, “I may not have the power to save you from all harm, but I will keep fighting so I may become strong enough to face any threat that crosses you.”

His words were so honest - you could tell from the expression on his face that he was a little uncertain, however. The last thing Mountain wanted to do was scare you, but he was also intent on being his truest around you. The Feline sighed a little, “So there you have it. If that makes you afraid in any way, I-”

He stopped short when you lifted your head from his lap and sat up; before the Feline could even ask, you had sat yourself comfortably in his lap then met his gaze with sincerity in your eyes, “Anthony.” His real name from your lips was not entirely unfamiliar, but it still caused suripse to paint his face. Now that his rapt attention was on you, you went on, “You’ve never scared me, not at all. I know you see your true nature to be violence but… you make me feel safe. You’re my safe haven.”

Perhaps that was nonsensical. To most, and even Mountain himself, he embodied anything but safety. When faced with opponents, he always lived up to his name - immovable, towering, strong. However, as fierce as this mountain was, he never frightened you; he kept you from harm, he stood between you and danger without any hesitancy. For you, nowhere else felt safer than his side.

Your gaze never left Mountain’s once - you watched as eyes widened at your words, then filled with warmth. He was quiet for a moment, then - “You… you’re an interesting one, huh?” He exhaled, “I want to reprimand you for being so carelessly trusting, but I can't bring myself to.” You grinned softly, and the Feline mirrored it. “But… if that’s indeed how you feel, then I’ll keep going further. Thank you, Doctor.”

You were quick to shake your head; shifting closer, you let your head rest on his shoulder before you replied, “No need to thank me, Anthony. I should be the one thanking you.” Your words were repetitive again, but Mountain felt his grin widen at them regardless.

You two were only just escaping danger, and yet there was not an ounce of tension or worry in the air around you. He was marvelled; you were causing a smile to come to his face and warmth to bloom within his chest, simply by allowing him to hold you. With you in his lap and your head on his shoulder, Mountain felt embraced by warmth, by safety.

It was there, with his arms wrapped protectively around your body that he decided:

He was perfectly okay with being your safe haven for however long you wished - because you were slowly becoming his.

#I had I Bet On Losing Dogs by Mitski on loop while I was writing this sgsjbshs 👉👈#arknights #arknights imagines #arknights mountain #arknights x reader #mountain arknights #arknights imagine #arknights fanfic #arknights fanfics #arknights writing #imagine #imagines #writing #anthony simon

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shysneeze · 4 years

Text

i’m in love with you (george weasley x fem!reader)

I’m in Love With You

Post War George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Request: Okay idk if you’d be up to it but I’m currently obsessed w the song Please Notice by Christian Leave and so I was thinking a George weasley x reader fic inspired by/based off of/same kinda vibe imagine. Do you understand that lol I feel like I said it in a confusing way, crossing my fingers that you’re pickin up what I’m putting down. Lol ily bye. ~ anon

Warning: angsty (but fluff I promise this time), self-doubt etc...

Authors note: this is a cliché, but it’s one you can pry from my cold dead hands

George has never been a huge fan of silence, it’s not something he’s ever been used to, growing up in a house full of the constant noise of familial ruckus, and so weekends without Fred such as this are something that’s always made him feel ever so slightly uneasy, listening only to the repetitive patter of rain on the windows and static whirring of a record he’s gotten too distracted to flip spinning idly in the corner.

The creak of his bedroom door opening is a welcome sound, followed by the gentle shuffle of light footsteps along the corridor before she appears before him, a much healthier and warmer version of herself, nothing like the teary-eyed (Y/N) (Y/L/N) he pulled from his doorstep and out of the rain only ten minutes previous.

“Hey.” She gives a sheepish wave.

Years as best friends should prepare him for the sight of her in his clothes, borrowed jumpers and stolen socks such a pivotal part of their friendship back in Hogwarts that he shouldn’t be startled by how gorgeous she looks in them, but he always is.

“Hey.” He manages a kind smile. “Any warmer?”

The subtle drop of her gaze to the floor warns him that she’s about to tell him a white-lie and his eyes cling to the way her hands still tremble with the cold. Then, just as he’s predicted, she gives him an unconvincing ‘yep’.

It wasn’t how he was expecting his evening to go, he’d already surrender himself to an evening spent on the couch listening to his favourite songs when there was a knock on his door. The time and weather instantly led him to the assumption of bad news, and for all the outlandish theories and anxious assumptions he concocted on his way to the door, none involved his rain-soaked best friend shivering on his door step.

A sputtered apology was all she managed before he pulled her into his flat in a protective panic, fetching her a towel instantly and setting out a change of clothes with no request of an explanation for her visit, promising himself only to ask once he’s sure she doesn’t have hypothermia.

He’s still not one hundred percent on that part, giving her a knowing look as he crosses the space between them to push a cup of warm tea between her frozen fingers. Her shoulders slump in relief at the heat finding her hands, giving him a sheepish, but grateful smile.

“Now I’m warmer.” She assures honestly. “Thank you, Georgie.”

“Figured that might help.” He smiles gently. “Livingroom?”

She nods, mimicking his steps subconsciously as he follows him to from the kitchen to the sofa in the living room, pulling her knees up to her chest and cradling the mug on top of them as he takes a seat on the opposite end of the worn sofa with his legs stretched out across the cushions

She twiddles with the handle of her mug atop her knees, deep in thought as the room falls into silence. Silence with her is the only type George has ever found comforting, the reminder of afternoons spent in the Gryffindor common room, listening only the sound her flipping pages of her book and the crackling of the fire.

“Fred’s out?”

“A ‘couples weekend away’.” George nods. “Him and Angelina are somewhere up north for the anniversary of the first time they ate ice cream together or something daft like that.”

She chuckles softly, her smile summoning one similar to George’s lips. There is always a certain amount of pride in cheering her up, he’s realised, in bringing a smile to cheeks moments ago stained by tears.

“I’m happy for them though.” She adds softly, a sombre sound to her voice that has him on edge. “They’re a cute couple.”

“Insufferable at times.” George says. “But yes, cute.”

She exhales a quiet sigh, dropping her head tiredly to the cushion beside.

“I got stood up… again.”

He drops his shoulder in a display of sympathy, pushing down the initial aggressive protectiveness that dares him to ask for the name and address of the person stupid enough to ever hurt her. It’s clear from the forlorn look in her eyes that she needs someone to listen to her, not to avenge her.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” He says. “Whoever they were, they were an idiot.”

“Thanks, Georgie.” She says softly. “I just really needed a friend tonight so thank you.”

He tries to ignore how the word stings, ‘friend’. It’s a sting he’s been trying to ignore for years, it should be second nature by now, but it still stirs that feeling he hates, the one that makes him feel ungrateful, because being her friend should be enough.

He hates that it never has been.

It was what he assumed was a harmless crush at first, back at Hogwarts, one he was sure he would grow out of, no matter how many times Fred tried to tell him otherwise. Much to his dismay, Fred was right, and every year it got harder and harder to ignore, even after school.

By now, the word ‘crush’ doesn’t seem to cut it, too childish to possibly explain the irresistible torture that is his love for (Y/N) (Y/L/N). He’s not sure there is a word to describe such a feeling, the way it fills his heart with warmth but aches at the same time, an ache he’d happily experience forever just to be near her.

Now he pushes that sting deep down where he can barely notice it in order to deal with the issue at hand, the girl sat across from him with sad eyes and fallen smile.

“You can rant to me.” He assures. “I don’t mind.”

She takes a moment to give in to his offer encouraged by the sincerity in his warm brown eyes from across the sofa and the nudge to her feet from his. Biting her lip nervously and with a deep breath, she begins to explain.

“I’m not saying he was the love of my life or anything.” She disclaims. “It was only our second date, but it still hurt when he just... didn’t show up.”

“I can imagine.”

“I was just sat in that restaurant staring at the door waiting for this guy I knew deep down wasn’t going to show.” She explains. “He could have just called; told me he wasn’t interested, and it would have been less embarrassing.”

“Guys are idiots, Love.” George says. “Take it from a professional.”

She rolls her eyes lightly at the comment, ready to scold his self-deprecation when she seems to lose the momentum as quickly as she found it, instead sinking further back against the arm of the sofa with a huffed out breath.

“Is there something about me that people think doesn’t deserve an explanation?” Her voice wobbles. “Aren’t I worth that much?”

His heart breaks into what he’s sure are thousands of little pieces, his breath catching in his throat at the tears that spring to her eyes. He pulls his legs back and shuffles towards her end of the sofa as she hides her face behind her knees.

Gentle tugging the tea from her fingers, he places it on the coffee table before pushing her knees down, guiding her legs across his lap, squeezing her knee to urge her to look up and meet his eyes. She sniffles softly as she lifts her head, gulping at the softness in his warm brown eyes.

“You are worth so much more.” He explains. “I’m so sorry they made you feel like you weren’t.”

“I guess I just feel… unlovable.” She confesses.

Frustration forces itself out of his lungs in a long sigh, startling her slightly. It almost hurts to listen to her talk about herself, ‘unlovable’, as if he isn’t sat in front of her, undoubtedly in love with her. It’s not the first time he’s wished she would notice, where life would be so much easier if she could just look at him and see instantly how in love with her he is.

If only she could see how he blushes when he makes her laugh, how even in crowded rooms, he has only eyes for her and how, sometimes, despite his best efforts, he can’t help but fumble over his words when she talks to him.

“You’re not.” He shakes his head slowly. “Trust me.”

It’s a miniscule confession, one he doubts she’s going to pick up on until he can see something flicker across her eyes, realisation perhaps. It fades as quickly as it appeared, as though in only a millisecond she considered and dismissed the notion.

However, George has taken the first steps down a dangerous path, there is no going back no matter how fast the beating of his nervous heart.

“You’re the amazing, (Y/N).” He continues. “I hate that other people can’t see that, but I do.”

“George-“

“I’m in love with you, (Y/N).”

“George please…” She exhales shakily, desperately. “Please don’t tell me this if you don’t mean it, if you’re just trying to cheer me up- please, George.”

“I do mean it, (Y/N).” He assures frantically. “Merlin, (Y/N), I love everything about you, the way you sing under your breath when you think no one’s listening, how you mimic the facial expressions of the characters in books without even noticing you’re doing it, how you get the hiccups when you laugh too much- blood hell, (Y/N), you’re laugh is the most gorgeous sound in the world.”

He’s in love with every single one of her quirks and habits; the lucky penny she’s taken to every single one of his quidditch matches, the pressed flowers she uses as bookmarks, and her pockets that are always full of plasters and healing cream… He could get carried away with listing them all, he has to restrain himself from doing so, bringing himself back with a sigh.

“I’m in love with you, (Y/N).” He repeats in confirmation. “And I can’t stand to hear you doubt yourself over and over because of some idiots who don’t know how lucky they are to even be considered by you.”

The tears that trickle down her cheeks fill him instantly with panic, sure he’s ruined it all as she wipes frantically at her eyes. The room fills with silence again, though George can only hear the thumping of his own heart in his ears, drowning out the rain and the record still spinning pointlessly in the corner of the room.

He’s done exactly what he was afraid of; he’s let his feeling pull apart the friendship that should have been enough for him. This hurts more than the ache of loving her ever has, the wretched torture of rejection.

“I shouldn’t-“ He mumbles. “I shouldn’t have done that-“

“Do you know how often I have imagined you saying those words to me?”

Her voice is cracked, much how it was when he first opened the door to her this evening, with disbelieving edge to her voice. The pain in his chest untwists itself slowly, replaying the words over and over in his head, until he’s sure he’s imagined it.

“What?”

“I love you, George.” She confesses. “Every disastrous date I’ve ever been on has been in an attempt to pretend I don’t. but I do, I really do.”

“You love me?”

The words feel foreign in his mind, he’s never allowed himself to imagine it before, that she could ever possibly love him back. Yet here she is, sat on his couch and wearing his clothes, tell him that she does.

“Yes, George.” She gasps incredulously. “I do, and only in my daydreams have you ever loved me back.”

Warmth fills him slowly, then rushes in all at once as the words finally sink in and he’s able to convince himself he isn’t stuck in some daydream of his own. His grin spreads slowly up his cheeks, contagious as it is soon mimicked on her own teary cheeks.

“You love me.”

“Yes.” She lets out a breathy laugh.

“Bloody hell.”

Her head tips back in a hysterical burst of laughter.

“You can’t just say ‘Bloody hell’ after I’ve confessed my undying love!”

“You cried when I confessed mine!” He retorts, chest vibrating with a laugh of his own. “This is surreal.”

Laughter fading to a grin, she looks at him with a new found light, a twinkle he’s very quickly added to the never ending list of thing he loves about her.

“I can’t believe you love me.” She says softly.

He does something he’s only ever dreamt of before, reaching out with one hand and cupping her cheek, grazing his thumb gently over the map of stains from what he knows now, were happy tears. He can feel her skin warm beneath his touch and tries his best not to smirk, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“This can’t be real.” He whispers.

“I know.” She smiles softly in agreement. “It’s all too perfect.”

“Is it immoral for me to kiss you after you’ve just been stood up?”

She snorts quietly at the question, shaking her head in reassurance and curling her finger around a handful of his jumper, pulling him closer.

“I think I was meant to be stood up.” She admits. “As cliché as it might sound, it led me here.”

“You’re right.” He mumbles, lips inches from hers. “That is very soppy.”

“Oh, shut up and kiss me.”

He’s tugged into her lips in less than a second. It’s better than he’s ever allowed himself to imagine during those lonely evenings spent staring at his ceiling, it’s everything to him. She moves her lips with his eagerly, as if she would be happy to the spend the rest of her life with him in this moment.

She’s perfect, it’s a fact he’s known since they were seventeen, but never has it been more true than this moment, tangled together in a kiss they’ve both been longing for in secret for far too long. All this time he’s not been the only one with what felt like an unattainable crush, no the only one suffering the ache of a heart in love.

“You’re amazing.” He exhales against her lips, eliciting one of those gorgeous laughs. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Georgie.”

“I’d listen to you say that all day.”

“Who’s the soppy one now?”

“Hm, just don’t tell Fred.”

authors note; v v rushed, if i didnt put it out though, I would spend all week on it and I have a mountain of uni work to do so meh, also drinking game: drink every time unless ur underage pls they confess their love... can you tell i’m super impressed by myself this time?

#george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george x reader #george imagine #fred and george #george weasley

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djarrex · 3 years

Text

Hi everyone, just wanted to address what happened last night along with some other things from before that all tie in together.

There’s multiple parts to the following post - please make sure you read all of it if you’re gonna take the time to even start.

It was midnight and y'all were still jumping in on anon and telling me how I'm awful for not commenting, owning up, or taking responsibility - I should have been in bed. I have a life and job outside this app; and with the several of you in my inbox and it being too late at night to address each, I’m gonna do it now. I can’t not say something about all of this. I just can’t keep quiet and ignore the problem - it’s not fair to you all. Deleting one post already has you guys even more riled up and all I wanted to do was offer something better than a “half-hearted apology” (it was very late at night when I wrote that very short apology, and wanted a redo tbh).

I really didn't want to make a long post like this. I reached out to a select few on here because I care about them (there's more of you, but like I said, it was at the time after midnight and I was fucking exhausted). but I was being demanded for accountability. So here I am.

Allow me to be real with you all, if that's ok. If it's not, well, idk. First I wanna address all you anons, who, instead of speaking to me one on one about all this, want to criticize me and shame me and my writing when truthfully it feels like you haven't even read more than a handful of my work. I didn’t realize that I write the clones all the same way? That I always make them super aggressive and uncaring and dom? “you write every single clone as so dominant instead as unique individual men with their own personalities” Interesting. See, that right there tells me you haven't read nearly enough of my stuff for me to believe that's true. That's one accusation I absolutely will not back you on because I know it’s inaccurate - saying how I group the clones into some overly-aggressive, and uncaring category - that I always write all of them as mean in bed because they're men of color. And hey, if I do write rough smut - which yeah, it's out there and I write it, as do a lot of you - there are warnings at the beginning, aftercare, dialogue, reader sharing their feelings, and most importantly... consent between the two. That’s what warnings are for, so that you know what you’re going to be reading. That’s why I, as we all do, appreciate warnings listed at the tops of fics; honestly, write them sub or dom or switch or however you want but don’t come at me like that. I’m sorry if I'm coming across as rude because I'm usually not, I’m one of the nicest people you’ll meet, but I will not stand idly by while you chastise my writing (writing that is pretty much the same type of stuff a lot of you write & rb with the same characters) that you haven’t read enough of to back such claims.

Next: Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart,

I get it. Really, I do. I fully understand the problem of whitewashing in SW along with almost everywhere else, and I do not agree with it. It's a huge problem, and it needs to be rectified. Now just because I don't speak publicly about it and opt out of publicly shaming TBB, doesn't mean that I agree with what’s going on. Not everyone is comfortable with sharing their opinions on a subject, no matter what that subject is or which side they're on. You live and you learn when it comes to that.

It has never been my intention to fetishize POC in my writing, which btw, the same people who are saying that it is my intention are the ones claiming I portray all of the clones as the same, aggressive men, lacking their individuality. It’s a claim that is simply not true, and I know I have followers on here to back me up on that. I know what I've written; how about you check it out and tell me that you don't see the words "soft" or "fluff" or "cuddling" or “gentle” or “tender” within my work linked in my ML. Clone character being a good partner and father? Tender love making? Holding each others faces in their hands? “We/you survived” sex? Taking care of their partner? Saying “I love you” to one another? Confirming the safe word and going slow at first? Oh my - riveting and harsh stuff - totally unacceptable.

Now: My admittedly problematic writings of Rex + Zygerria,

I went into writing that rp fic totally unaware and unknowing of the true implications. For that, I sincerely apologize. When I posted the NSFW alphabet, that’s when I was called out on that rp fic - not when I first posted it. Which the timeline doesn’t matter, I know that, but it concerns me a little bit that no one spoke up about it sooner - letting me dig myself deeper into a hole that I didn’t realize I was inside of in the first place. I've apologized once, and I know that doesn't negate what happened; I acknowledged my mistake back then, but I suppose that wasn’t good enough. I had asked you, anon, to message me to give me guidance, to teach me on what to do about the fic - you stayed hidden. Well, respectfully, what the fuck? I know we're all adults but don't lecture me and avoid me when I’d literally reached out for guidance on how to properly rectify the issue. I fixed my wording in some of my fics (the things I’ve caught upon rereading them) because I recognized and more importantly learned about and from my mistakes along with the unintentional negative implications of how I wrote those characters. Some of y'all wanna tell me that I "haven't learned"? Who are you, my personal blog police? My professor? My life coach? Are you even my friend? If I'm wrong and haven't learned, then fucking educate me. I worked hard on that rp fic, just like I do with a majority of what I write, but it doesn’t matter because I will delete it knowing that it’s harmful to others and I apologize for inadvertently romanticizing slavery with what I wrote - it was unintentional, and I’m truly sorry to those who have been hurt by it. I know it’s wrong, and there’s no proper excuse for it. Can’t go back in time, but consider it gone now.

Since that first wakeup call, I’ve been working hard to ensure I avoid using certain words and ideas when describing the clones in my fics. If there’s still something you see that isn’t correct or is inappropriate, please tell me! Don’t hold it in but then jump on the “attack M” bandwagon. Private message me, or come peacefully off or on anon, there will be no hard feelings. I don’t mind being corrected when I make a mistake - that’s just part of life, we all make mistakes and we live and learn from them. Making mistakes doesn’t = scumbag human. When you hold your breath and choose not to take the time to guide me, and if I appear to still be making the same mistakes, well, idk. I’m telling you right now that I do not mind if you message me with the good intention of pushing me in the right direction. When you come at me with hostility on anon, well, no thank you. To the anons that came without rage: thank you! I read what you wrote, and I have a better understanding as to how my writing had hurt the lovely followers of mine, and tried to address as much as possible in this post. See, angry mob anons? It costs zero credits to be kind and offer up your thoughts and advice with a good heart. I’m not going to hate you or block you if you try to correct me. I don’t block unless you’re a snoopin’ minor. Just don’t hold a knife to my throat.

Now: Why did I delete the tags and then my response to that anon ask?

Simply put: I felt awful. Deleting it doesn’t immediately mean I’m hiding from it and ignoring the issue. I wanted to come up with a better apology, explanation, whatever you wanna call it, because my followers deserve that. The ones who enjoy my work, the ones who interact, the ones who I call my friends, the ones who know that I’m a good person. Didn’t want to leave the tags/post floating around all night, giving more people time to sharpen their pitchforks and join the mob while I attempted to sleep. Trust me, I know saying that I had no ill intentions when tagging that post doesn’t make it better nor does it make it go away. I’m just trying to show you my point of view, that I knew immediately how I should not have tagged it that way, so that’s why I deleted them. I corrected my mistake. But y’all are too fucking quick I swear.

One more thing:

I know some of you who had called me out with the passive-aggressive inbox messages are still following me, and for what? You don’t like what I post, which is why one would follow another in the first place, so why bother sticking around? Do you feel like you need to police my blog? You want to be there the literal minute I make a mistake? I’m gonna turn off anon for a bit, so if you wanna discuss, message me. Just know that if you’re going to come at me with knives out, I probably won’t reply to you.

To conclude:

I’m sorry. Truly sorry for the entire Rex + Zygerria outfit + slaver ordeal with both the fic from a while ago and then the tags from last night. We can’t go back in time; the only option is to correct past mistakes that are able to be corrected, and then move on with new knowledge that’ll aid in me working even harder to ensure my writing isn’t inappropriate or offensive, and doesn’t hurt my followers nor the characters I write for. I’m still going to write self-indulgent filth and fluff, post-order 66 Rex, and other misc shit. I enjoy writing fanfic, as I know a lot of you enjoy reading what I write and love to talk to me about it. I hope that this didn’t come off as me being a bitch, because I’m really not. I enjoy interacting with the handful of people on here that I’d call my friends, and I love reading your reactions and tags to my fics when you’re excited and/or horny (LOL). It’s just after lunch time where I’m at, so I hope you have a great rest of the day/night/morning whatever for wherever you are.

#long post #m personal

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writefightandflightclub · 4 years

Note

Can I request a short little blurb of reader sitting in Santi's lap? Just something soft and sweet... I lovw your writing!!!

Thanks, Anon! You asked and I did my best to deliver! I wrote this quickly and I haven’t read it through as I have no patience (and also need to go to sleep shortly), so I hope it’s ok!

Summary: soft, fluffy blurb, about sitting in Santi’s lap and getting all the love in the world

Warnings: none, I don’t think.

GIF by @winterswake

Killing me softly

You are pacing. Pacing up and down the living room floor, mumbling to yourself.

“Baby, stop,” Santi begs from his perch on the couch. “Take a minute to destress, please?”

You cast a helpless glance towards him as you absent-mindedly chew on a fingernail, but even the steadiness of his gaze alone helps you to still, his big, brown eyes trained on you with nothing but love.

“You’re frazzled. But tomorrow is gonna go fine. Now come and sit on my lap and let me help you unwind, Princesa.”

You consider protesting, but he taps his palms on his firm thighs and your words die in your throat. There’s no world in which you can resist those thighs, in any context. And he knows it, too.

“That’s not fair, Garcia. You know all my weaknesses.”

“Is that such a bad thing? If it helps you relax I’m gonna use every weapon in my arsenal. I know my shit about weapons, baby, and I’m not afraid to use them.”

He taps his full thighs again and leans back into the sofa cushions, making his lap look as comfortable and appealing as possible, which, let’s be honest, isn’t hard to do.

“Fine,” you concede, gravitating towards him and sitting down sidewards on his lap, still a little tense and unyielding. Santi will soon fix that. He hooks one arm under both your legs and draws your knees up towards him, resting your feet on the couch. Then, he tugs your head gently down to nestle it into his chest.

Once you are curled into him and adequately settled atop his sturdy thighs, he wraps one arm between your legs, tugging the closest one into him, and the other hand winds through your hair as he rests his cheek against the top of your head.

You sigh contentedly as you relax into his embrace, your elbows folded and one palm pressing against his warm chest, his soft t-shirt beneath your fingertips, the fabric thin enough to feel his body heat through. Your hand idly wanders to the neck and to the sleeve of his t-shirt, your fingers playing at the hems where you seek out his smooth skin, just to have the feel of him under your hand.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Santi reassures, still softly stroking your hair, and the deep vibration of his voice reverberates from his chest where your head rests. You close your eyes at the reassuring sound, and, as you both still, the steady, sophorific sound of Santi’s heartbeat filters into the shell of your ear, just as the smell of him filters in with your breath. You remain there, head rising and falling with his chest as he breathes deeply.

Why didn’t you do this earlier, exactly? In no time at all, you can feel the tension begin to ebb away from your taut muscles. You can feel the coherent, racing worries slip away until your mind is simply full of him. Of feelings and sensations rather than words or tangible thoughts.

“Better, mi alma?” Santi asks in a gentle, soothing voice.

“Yes,” you concede, despite your usual stubborness and reluctance to admit he is right; even though sometimes, Santi knows what you need better than you do yourself.

After a few moments, Santi unwraps his right hand from around your thigh and clasps your hand delicately in his, bringing it to his lips to plant slow, gentle kisses over each of your knuckles in turn.

“I got you,” he repeats, and he wraps his left arm around you, slowly leaning you back so you can rest your head against the arm of the sofa. This allows you to look into each other’s eyes, and Santi’s eyes melt as he gazed down at you and tips your chin up ever so delicately with his index finger. His eyes say everything there are no words to vocalise, then his touch says the rest as he gently caresses your cheek and jaw with the pad of his thumb.

Then, he simply tugs you in close to him again, until you are surrounded in his sturdy circumference, the mass of him warm and strong and all around you.

Your worries have entirely melted away. In fact, you are overcome by something else entirely, and Santi, whose eyes are sweeping over your face and scanning for any sign of stress that he might eliminate, notices instantly that tears begin to ball in your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey. No,” he soothes. “What is it? Don’t be sad.”

You sniff as the tears spill from your cheeks, spurred on through the softness in his eyes and voice alone. He really does love you, doesn’t he?

“Princesa, what is it?”

“Y-you’ll think I’m r-ridiculous,” you push out, feeling a little silly for getting so upset, but Santi does everything to put you at ease, reaching up to brush away your tears with the sweep of his rough finger.

“No,” he promises. “What is it?”

“I’m h-happy. This is m-my happy place, Santiago Garcia. Right here in your lap. I just love you so m-much I want to cry. I’m such a sap for you, you shithead.”

Santi’s eyes search yours and you could swear he even tears up too. He’s softer than a lot of his acquaintances and maybe even friends would ever dare to guess, this man.

“Cariño, you have no idea how happy you make me. Snuggling you on my lap? Este es mi cielo.”

You reach your hand up to press your palm to his cheek, the familiar brush of his stubble greeting you. His words inspire a fresh batch of happy tears to spill from your cheeks.

“Honey, you should really have these thighs and that silver tongue of yours seized. They’re lethal weapons, I swear. You’re killing me here.”

“Killing you softly?” Santi asks with a gently amused smirk.

Still, he tugs you close and holds you in his arms until your tears subside and until he’s sure that you feel entirely content. As he hugs you tightly, he continues to reassure you that he’s got you. And that he never wants to let you go.

What’s more, you believe him, and suddenly nothing else in the world matters, except being here with the man who is your happy place; with the man who makes you happier than you could ever have imagined being.

#santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia #pope x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #santi blurb #luna answers

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fonulyn · 3 years

Note

If you're taking prompts, would your write something like, Leon came back from a mission all beat up. He and Piers have a few days off together. Piers says they should spend the first day in bed and be shmoopy and cuddle.

schmoopy cuddles oh my god ;;;;;;;; thank you anon 💖

A sharp jab of pain jolted Leon awake and for a second he was confused about what was going on, before his mind actually caught up and he realized that he’d busted at leas one rib the previous day. He’d gotten thrown into a wall - surprise! - by something that resembled the El Gigante he remembered all too well from Spain, and by now he felt every single one of the numerous bruises.

Slowly Leon took a deep breath, pressing his face into the pillow on Piers’ side of the bed, and eventually the pain faded to a dull throb. Briefly he considered painkillers, but he was so warm and cozy in the nest of blankets that he didn’t really want to move an inch. Maybe he could fall back asleep if he kept on breathing slowly, focusing on the familiar scent.

Until a voice suddenly startled him. “Oh, you’re awake.”

Leon turned his head enough to open one eye and peek at Piers, who was standing right next to the bed. He was wearing sweats and the green t-shirt that was so old and worn so soft that it was both their favorite, his hair sticking up to all possible directions, and he looked like he’d just gotten out of bed. Which was... confusing. “Shouldn’t you be...” he trailed off because honestly he did remember Piers had been supposed to be on some kind of a mission but for the life of him he couldn’t place where exactly. He blamed the persistent headache.

“Called Chris,“ Piers said, holding out a glass of water and two painkillers. He waited patiently for Leon to shift so he could grab the pills first and pop them in his mouth, and then handed him the water to down them. “He told me to sit this one out and make sure you won’t, and I quote, break anything more because you’re a stubborn asshole who doesn’t know he should be in bed.“

Leon snorted. “Remind me to tell him to go screw himself,” he muttered, but he couldn’t help but grin at that. He’d been friends with Chris for two decades, and they knew each other more than well.

“No,“ Piers argued, grinning at Leon. “I will remind you to thank him for getting me three whole days off to spend pampering you.“

Immediately Leon perked up, regretting it a second later as he moved too fast for his bruises to be happy about it. “For real?” he asked, a little breathless even as he otherwise managed to hold back most signs of pain.

“For real,“ Piers confirmed. He lifted the covers and slid back in bed, settling comfortably on his back so that Leon could slot right against his side, to basically use him as a body pillow. Without hesitation Leon wrapped an arm around Piers’ middle, pressed his nose into his neck, and pushed one leg between Piers’.

In turn Piers hooked an arm around Leon, too, and slid his palm onto the back of Leon’s head. He carded his fingers into Leon’s hair, smiling as Leon let out a content sigh. “So,” he started, idly drawing circles onto Leon’s scalp. “You feel like sleeping some more?”

“No,“ Leon answered, voice muffled from where he’d buried his face against Piers’ shoulder. The shirt was so nicely soft and Piers was so warm, and Leon could’ve sworn that this was even better than the painkillers. “But I don’t think I can do any of the things I want to do,“ he went on with a huff of a laugh, "it almost doesn’t hurt if I stay completely still.”

The noise Piers made was something between amused and exasperated. “I can’t believe you.“ He twisted Leon’s hair into his fingers, giving it a playful tug. “Get your mind out of the gutter for five minutes.“

“Hey,” Leon drawled, grinning as he tilted his head and placed his chin on Piers’ chest, looking up at him. “It’s not my fault. You know, I have this really pretty boyfriend. He’s young and hot and I kind of really like him a lot. So it’s kinda hard to keep my hands off him.“

Piers rolled his eyes. “You charmer,” he griped, unable to stop himself from smiling. He craned his neck to press a soft kiss onto Leon’s lips, and didn’t even resist when Leon eagerly went for another, a little deeper one right after. That was as far as they got, though, before Piers pulled back and arched an eyebrow. “You’re wasting your breath, though. No sex until your ribs heal.”

“C’mon,” Leon groaned, “it can take up to six weeks.“

“Alright alright,“ Piers relented, “no sex until you’re honestly feeling better. And don’t even try to lie, I’ll know.“

Smiling, Leon settled right back against Piers as comfortably as he could. The painkillers were kicking in properly, the shared warmth made him relax even further, and on second thoughts he probably could fall asleep right here if he stayed still for a moment longer. “You know,” he muttered, the smile audible in his voice. "I feel better already.”

Piers only pressed a kiss onto his temple.

#piers nivans #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #nivannedy #piers/leon #my fics #my nivannedy fics #theo i'm sorry leon's not a lil spoon in this :'D #in the next one then :'D #but it's cuddlyyyyy #soft babies ;;#they make me happy #Anonymous #ask and i shall answer #replies #chatty chat chat

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foramomentonly · 4 years

Text

Stoner Malex Ficlet--12/12

Author’s Note:. Third of a collection of ficlets within the Stoner Malex AU, each one based on a promo photo from Vlambase IG. The title of each ficlet will be the date the picture that inspired it was posted.

For my sweet anon, who had a bad day.

Inspo photo

Read on AO3

They head straight to Michael’s room at the Evans house after school, a rarity considering Alex normally has a shift at the Emporium or works relief for Arturo at the Crashdown on weekday afternoons. But the museum is closed for fumigation and Rosa is more reliable than ever thanks to rehab and, Alex suspects, the alluring distraction of Isobel Evans. And so, just as Michael is sweet talking his truck’s ancient engine into turning over in the student lot, eager to run out the tedious hours between final bell and Alex’s inevitable appearance at his door, he hears a heavy thunk behind him and a moment later Alex wrenches open the passenger side door and hauls himself inside, grinning casually and setting his heavy boot on the dash like Michael secretly hates, murmuring, “Take me for a ride, sweetheart?”

But why drive out to the desert to shiver in the harsh wind that blows over the wide, open expanse, the cold metal of Michael’s truck bed an unwelcome shock to their bare skin as they fool around, when they have the option of an empty house, a soft bed, and Michael’s stash at their disposal? So “take me for a ride” turns quickly into “take me home,” and they end up sprawled across Michael’s messy bed, Alex propped up against a pillow at the foot, Michael lounging against the headboard, both in sweatshirts to fight off the chill coming from the patio door, wide open to let the smoke and the stench out.

“I’m soooo hungry,” Michael groans into his sleeve, arm thrown across his face, but instead of sympathy he gets Alex’s bare foot creeping up his side, toes wiggling under his sweatshirt to dig playfully into his ribs. Alex had learned Michael is ticklish on this same cramped bed under very different circumstances the week before. Since that discovery, he’s been relentless.

“Stop!” Michael laughs breathlessly, reaching out and capturing Alex’s foot, holding it captive against his stomach. "I'm too high and too hungry for that right now."

“So get up, then,” Alex laughs, crosses his arms behind his head and makes no move to pull his foot back. “And get me some water, I’m thirsty as fuck.”

“But I don’t want to,” Michael whines, and though his eyes are hazy and heavy lidded, they soften when he looks at Alex spread out across his bed, the length of his body pressed against Michael's with a hand wrapped loose around his calf, and adds softly, “It’s so cozy here.”

“Then I guess you aren’t eating,” Alex shrugs, and though his returning smile is something private and warm, he’s clearly unmoved by Michael’s plight.

“You could get it for me,” Michael purrs, rubbing Alex’s in step idly with his thumb and smiling suggestively down his own body. ”I’ll trade you a blow job for a frozen burrito.”

Alex snorts.

“Like I’m not probably getting one today anyway,” he laughs, and Michael grins, digs hard into Alex’s arch with his fingers and bites his lip when Alex groans softly.

“You have a point,” he replies lazily, and begins working Alex’s foot, sore from a day trapped in heavy, constricting boots, with both hands.

“You trying to butter me up, Guerin?” Alex breathes, burrowing into his pillow, eyes slipping closed.

“Yup,” Michael answers with an exaggerated pop of his lips, and suddenly he’s rolling to a stand, turning Alex sideways across the bed by his ankle as he grunts in protest and pulling Alex gently up by his wrists. He leans in close, nose brushing Alex’s, and whispers against his lips, “If I have to go all the way to the kitchen, I’m taking you with me.”

In the bright, open plan kitchen and formal living room space, Michael heads straight for the pantry, cursing the time it would take to heat up anything from the freezer. He dumps the entire contents of the snack shelf on the large, central island and pulls a glass out of the dishwasher below, handing it over to Alex and pointing to the fridge.

“There’s filtered water in there,” he says, and rips open a container of Pringles, shoving a thick stack into his mouth and moaning loud as the salt hits his tongue. He's sorting one-handed through the rest of the haul spilled out artlessly across the counter when he hears Alex wail dramatically behind him.

“Noooooo!” Alex cries as he pulls out the empty Brita pitcher from the fridge, waving it in Michael's direction. “How could you do this to me?!”

“Uh-oh,” Michael says, searching the room with wide, wild eyes for a solution. He looks out the sliding glass doors, so large they take up half the back wall, and he lets out a sudden crow of triumph as he takes in the spacious green of the backyard. He turns and grins slowly over his shoulder at Alex.

“I got it, baby. Come on.”

Alex follows Michael through the living room and out the sliding doors into the yard, neither bothering with shoes; the grass tickles Alex's toes and he giggles, cheeks warming in embarrassment, but the next moment Michael trips over a twig and makes a show of taking Alex's hand to guide him over the "treacherous pass," and it's becoming clear to them both that underneath the combat boots and the snark, the irreverent beanie and the burnout persona, they are two boys falling in love for the first time. And they're really, really high.

"Do you guys have a cooler out here or something?" Alex asks, looking around the small section of the yard Michael's led him to. It's surprisingly unpolished, mostly out of the living room's line of sight; sparse, boasting only a thin tree and overgrown brush along the property line.

Michael grins and bends over, picking up a thin hose and holding it loosely at his waist, an arc of water spurting from the nozzle after only a moment of Michael seeming to glare at it in concentration. Alex steps back to avoid the spray.

"How'd you do that?" he asks.

Michael pauses, stares a beat at Alex, then the hose, and back again.

"Timer!" he finally exclaims, and Alex shrugs.

Michael grins again, biting his lip, and gestures with his empty hand to the free-flowing stream.

"Go on," he says excitedly, and Alex would think he's fucking with him if Michael didn't look so proud. Taking in the full image of Michael holding an inescapably suggestive object, shooting a steam stream of liquid no less, at hip level and encouraging his boyfriend to lean in for a taste, Alex's shoulders shake with laughter, even more so when Michael leans into it, jutting his hips out and lowering the hose another half inch.

"Come on," Michael says, voice uneven as he begins to lose his own composure. "Like you weren't probably gonna be doing this today anyway."

Alex snorts at his own words echoing back at him, but he bends his knees, folding in half and resting his palms atop his thighs for balance. He opens his mouth comically wide, his tongue flat as he extends it towards the stream of water. He's still laughing, nose scrunched and eyebrows high, and Michael mimes anticipation, jaw dropping open and lips pulling into an exaggerated O, tears bright in the corners of his unfocused eyes from laughter.

Alex is about to drink in earnest, his laughter turning into hoarse barks in his dry throat, when they hear a low voice behind them.

“You know water comes out of all the faucets, right?” Isobel says, arms crossed and hip cocked. She’d be the perfect picture of condemnation if she weren’t biting her lip to stop the spread of a broad smile across her face.

Alex and Michael lock eyes, twin looks of disbelief and amusement on their faces, and they collapse onto the rough ground in breathless laughter, Michael snorting into Alex's shoulder as Alex lies flat on his back, fist in his mouth to preserve what dignity he might still have as tears stream down his temples and his entire core shakes.

Isobel rolls her eyes and turns back toward the house.

"I think I liked it better when you two were sneaking around," she mutters under her breath.

Their shrieks and snorts finally dying out, Michael props himself up on an elbow over Alex's chest, a soft, dopey smile on his lips, and Alex lifts his hand to run his fingertips softly across Michael's cheekbone and into his hair, pushing an unruly curl out of his eyes.

Almost in unison, they breathe, "I didn't."

#malex fic #malex #stoner malex au #alex manes #michael guerin #cw: weed #roswell new mexico #roswell nm fic #my fic

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gameimagines · 5 years

Note

Need some requests? How about some reader getting stuck in a closed place at night for our boys raihan, milo and léon then?

Requested by: this lovely anon

Fandom: Pokémon SWSH

Notes: oOOOO I LIKE THIS. Thanks for the request! Lots of blushing ahead. Not proofread, we die like men here

Raihan

“Just make yourself at home,” the dragon type gym leader told you as he opened the front door. You nodded quickly and silently prayed Raihan couldn’t tell just how excited you were. But to be fair, how could you not be?

You arrived at Hammerlocke around 2:41 am. The decision to trek through the Wild Area was a good call for training your team, but once you had to find a place to stay, you began to regret your choice. Between the holidays and the upcoming challenges at the residential gym, the Hammerlocke was packed. Every hotel, inn, and motel in the city was out of rooms. By sheer luck, Raihan caught you sulk out of another overcrowded hotel.

At first, he jokingly berated you for not letting him know you were coming to his home town. But after seeing how exhausted you were, he let you off the hook. Few questions about your sleeping arrangements and insistence that you were not camping outside the city later...and you found yourself crossing the threshold into Raihan’s home.

Located in the upper half of Hammerlocke near the stadium, Raihan’s loft was huge and well furnished. You supposed being the final gym leader must pay well. There were photos of Raihan with Leon and the league, pictures of his Pokémon, and a few abstract paintings. To the right of his living room you could see a personal gym.

“Not too shabby, huh?” Raihan grinned. You quickly nodded, this place put your humble home to shame. The dragon tamer slung an arm over your shoulders. “Come on, I’ve got a guest bedroom over here.”

The guest bedroom was spotless, it almost looked like no one had ever slept in it. “You don’t have to do that. I can crash on the couch,” you suggested. The polite offer fell on deaf ears. “Can’t do that, love. You’re my guest. Besides, you’ll get cold in there.” Raihan countered.

Little did the two of you know that you were going to get cold anyway. Whether Raihan had intentionally turned the air down or the AC automatically kicked on was unbeknownst to you. But two hours later, you found yourself standing outside Raihan’s door, fighting off shivers and internally debating if it was rude to wake him up for another blanket. You raised your hand to knock, but before you could follow through, the door opened. “What’s up?” Raihan stifled a yawn and gave you a sleepy smile.

You met his tired gaze with wide eyes, “Oh! Sorry, did I wake you?” Maybe he heard your footsteps? Did you shut your door too loud? “Nah,” Raihan shook his head, “I’ve been awake. Saw your shadow through the door crack, do you need something?” Ah. So it wasn’t a sixth sense.

“Yeah, actually. Sorry. Do you have any extra blankets? I’m a little chilly.” A few seconds passed after your request. Raihan opened his mouth, closed it, and then turned on his heel. For a second you were almost worried you offended him. Thankfully, his lanky figure returned out of the darkness a moment later with a blue blank in hand. “Here you go. I hope it’s enough, it’s all I got.” Raihan held the plush comforter out to you. You tried to push the blanket back into his hands, “No, no. I can’t take your only blanket. I’ll be fine.”

Raihan snorted. “You’re too polite, you know?” He put one of hands over yours. His palm was radiated heat. It felt warm and secure, you wouldn’t mind using Raihan as a blanket. “You feel that? I’m basically a fire type. I’ll be just fine without it.” His lips curled up in a boyish grin while his eyes looked to the side, “you’d probably be even warmer if you slept in my bed with me.” Raihan hoped he sounded nonchalant and teasing, he hoped that his voice didn’t let on how much he wanted to sleep curled up next to you.

Your response came out before you could stop yourself, “If you’re offering, I’d love that.” Shoot. Why did you say that!? If only your cursed tongue would wait for your brain to decide what to say. You were ready to dash out of the loft when Raihan spoke. “Alright, come on in then,” he led the way into his bedroom, tossed the blanket back over the sheets and laid back in bed. It felt like your heart would explode, but you followed suit. Even though you faced away from him, you could feel his residual heat beside you.

Once you got settled, Raihan slung an arm over your waist. He was ecstatic you accepted his offer. He’d have to take you out for breakfast in the morning and finally confess. “Good night, Y/N.”

Milo

Luck was really not on your side today. You were treking through the Wild Area in search of Larvitars. After hours of fruitless searching, you cursed the rare Pokémon and began to set up camp for the night. Before you could finally settle down though, you needed to toss the tarp over your tent. The overgrown plains were filled with the harmonious sounds of Pokémon chatter and your disgruntled swears.

You cursed your fortune, the wilderness, and even the heavens above. Sitting happily on your tarp was a mischievous looking Salandit. “Shoo!Get away!” You tried to usher the wild Pokémon away, your hands flicked forward in a “go on” motion. The Salandit flicked its tongue in response. You briefly considered sending out your water type, but that idea risked soaking the tarp. A loud groan echoed from you as you tossed out your Espeon.

The psychic type looked as exhausted as you felt, you murmured a quick apology to your Espeon before refocusing your attention to that pesky Salandit. “Swift,” you half-heartedly commanded. Your loyal (but unenthusiastic) partner complied; luminescent stars flickered into existence and quickly knocked the wild Salandit off the tarp and back into the tall grass. Finally! You were free to rest! ...or so you thought. Unfortunately, the tall grass rustled, parted, and three Salandits charged you. So much for not calling out your water type.

After about fifteen minutes, everything within a 100 foot radius was soaked. The instigator tarp, the tent, and the terrain were drenched. Your Lapras did it’s best to aim away from the campsite, but the Salandits seemed to multiply. After five charged the Lapras, well, it was hard to focus on keeping the ground dry. At least you came out relatively unscathed. Although, it was hard to look at the positive when you had no idea how you would sleep tonight.

“Y/N?” A kind voice pulled you out of your pessimistic thoughts. You whipped your head around to find the source and caught sight of Milo a few yards out. “What’s going on here?” He inquired.

“I...” another sigh escaped you, “I don’t really want to talk about it, Milo.” Once the gym leader stepped closer to your muddy campsite you were able to make out a small, sympathetic frown on his face. You idly thought it didn’t suit his soft features. Because of your reluctance he didn’t prod further, but you were certain he could guess once you returned your Lapras to it’s pokeball.

He laid a firm yet gentle palm on your shoulder and used his free hand to point back to the shadowy figure of a campsite not too far off. “You’re more than welcome to camp with me.” If you squinted you may have caught the faint blush across his cheeks. Milo hoped you didn’t misconstrue his offer to be something risqué. Not that he didn’t find you beautiful! He certainly did but his affections were pure, almost reverent. You were beautiful, strong, and wonderful to be around. He just wanted to help you, not take advantage of your situation.

Knowing Milo, you knew he wasn’t up to anything. “I’d like that,” you smiled back at him. Milo led you to his campsite. His Eldegoss chirped happily at the both of you as Milo flipped out a tent flap. “The tent’s got a lot of room. I’ll stay outside in the hammock, get me if you need anything.” He tried to move way but you snatched his elbow. It was your turn to blush.

“Seems like there’s more than enough room for the both of us. Keep me warm, would ya?” You gave him a shy smile. Milo audibly gulped but a soft grin that rivaled your own soon appeared on his face. He nodded, afraid his voice would betray how enthusiastic he was.

The two of you nestled into the tent. The interior certainly was spacious; you could probably fit another person inside. However, it wasn’t every day you got to camp with the grass type heartthrob, so you couldn’t waste the opportunity to get closer. “Do you mind if I curl up beside you?” You murmured. “Not at all,” Milo answered a bit too quickly.

Snuggled up beside him, you could hear Milo’s heart pound. Milo was too much of a gentleman (or perhaps too nervous) to throw an arm around your waist unprompted. So you took the initiative to place a hand against his broad chest. Although the ground beneath you was hard, sleeping next to Milo felt comfortable. Milo watched in silent adoration as sleep overtook you.

“Good night, little sunflower.” He whispered into your hair.

Maybe luck was on your side after all.

Leon

For a five star resort, this was a rookie mistake. The Budew Drop Inn had double booked your room. At first, you weren’t bothered by this information; you figured it would be a ‘first come, first serve’ situation and you had booked the suite weeks in advance. However, the attendant at the front desk informed you that the room would be rented out to someone who made reservations after you. Why? Because the second guest was none other than the undefeated champion of Galar - Leon.

The employee then remorsefully related that there were no available rooms but that you would be refunded in full. You had half a heart to protest the priority being clearly based on status, but as a gym challenger it probably wouldn’t go over well if you were caught causing a scene in public. Instead, you quietly collected your bags and began to sulk out of the Motosoke establishment. You were halfway out the door when a familiar voice called out to you. “Y/N!”

Across the foyer stood Leon, one of his arms raised in an attempt to wave you over. You grumbled to yourself as you walked back inside to the Champion. If it wasn’t for him, you’d already be in bed. However, deep down you knew Leon had nothing to do with the sleeping arrangements and if he knew he’d find somewhere else to stay. So when he asked you what you were doing here, you left out that the suite you reserved was given to him. In fact, you also would have neglected to mention you needed to find a place to stay for the night if you’d known Leon was going to suggest you stay the night with him.

That’s how you were found standing awkwardly in Cubchoo print pajamas at the foot of a king sized bed. The two of your debated sleeping arrangements, Leon insisted you take the bed, but finally came to the agreement that you’d both share the bed so the other one didn’t have to crash on the couch. Leon gave a small smile at your hesitance. You radiated nervousness, a deep blush stained over your cheeks. Leon was already situated under the covers, he was admiring your adorable outfit but ready for you to lay next to him so he could get some sleep. “I’m fine sleeping somewhere else,” he once again offered, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you quickly countered and climbed into bed to prove your claim. He may not believe you, but you honestly weren’t uncomfortable. This experience just didn’t feel real. You, like many others, had quite the crush on Leon. He was kind, charismatic and brave. You couldn’t believe your luck that you got to spend the night with him. Maybe, you wondered, it would be wrong of you to share the same bed with someone you thought of romantically while his intentions were platonic.

Or at least, you assumed his offer was common courtesy. Once you got settled in, Leon turned off the bedside lamp. The bed was toasty, in no small part thanks to Leon warming up the bed. “Y/N?” Leon murmured. “Is it alright if I move closer?” You could almost hear the grin on his face.

“Yeah,” you responded, “that’s fine with me.” You heard the blankets rustle and felt Leon curl up behind you. One of his arms moved over your waist and held your hand. When you stiffened up, Leon let out a quiet chuckle. “Relax,” he whispered. His breath beating against the back of your head. You nearly elbowed him for teasing you like this, how long was he aware of the effect he had on you?

Minutes passed and you had almost fallen asleep when Leon spoke again. “In the morning, would you go out with me for coffee?” He was cruel. How could you sleep now when in the morning you had date plans?

“Gladly.”

#fanfic #imagines #reader insert #scenarios #headcanon #pokemon #pkmn #pkmn swsh #pokemon sword and shield #leon x reader #milo x reader #raihan x reader #leon imagine #raihan imagine #milo imagine #pokemon milo #pokemon leon #galar #fluff

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bestillmyslashyheart · 4 years

Note

Hi same anon as before. Thanks I just wanted to check because quite often people forget to take the message off! Yeah, no, I get that feeling entirely! I just wondered if you were taken with the idea - in any scenario you want - can we please just see Alex actually say something to M*ria? I just want him to actually say what he wants for a change rather than being so damn polite!!

“Alex!” Alex stared at his car sitting two steps away and seriously considered getting in it. “Alex!” Maria yelled again. A car honk as she darted across the street. Alex turned just before she reached him. He stepped neatly out of her grasping hand.

“Hey.”

Maria’s brow furrowed. “Hey,’ she echoed. “Where have you been? i haven’t seen you in weeks.”

Alex shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”

“Okay...” Maria looked at him oddly. “Are you okay? It’s not like you to just disappear like this.” It was exactly like him, Alex thought idly. He’d developed a bad habit of leaving a situation if it made him uncomfortable, something he knew Michael was well aware of. The fact that Maria wasn’t almost made him sad. Almost.

Alex didn’t say anything, just waited for Maria to get the point.

Maria hesitated. “Alex? Are we okay?”

“No.” He shook his head. “We’re not.”

Maria looked taken aback. “Why not? What’s wrong?”

Alex almost laughed. “Why’d you kiss me that night Maria?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure which part of that was confusing.”

Maria looked around them. It was early afternoon and the sidewalk was decently full without being crowded. Still, it probably wasn’t the best place to have this conversation but Alex wasn’t in the mood to prolong it so he had no intentions of leaving. Maria stepped to the side and reached for his arm but Alex evaded her touch. Maria’s hand hung awkwardly in the air. She stared between it and him for a moment before stepping in close. Strangers stepped around them, blissfully ignorant of the tension in the air.

“Alex. We’d had a rough day. I wanted to comfort you, to make sure you were okay.”

Alex nodded slowly. “So on the same day when I told you that being with women made me feel wrong you decided that the only way to comfort me was to kiss me and then sleep with me.” He felt his body go cold as he remembered the feel of her touch on his bare skin. It had been weeks since that night and it still made his skin crawl.

“Alex,” Maria shook her head. “You’re making it sound like something bad.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “I fail to see how it was something good.”

Maria looked wounded. “It was beautiful,” she protested.

“Well,” Alex manfully did not scoff. “I’m glad you thought so. And Michael said he felt loved so good for him.”

“And you?” Maria sounded defiant. “You seemed to enjoy yourself.”

Alex tried to resist. He didn’t want to completely destory his relationship with Maria, but- “As long as I was touching Michael sure,” he agreed. “Or did you think it was you that made me enjoy it?” He cocked his head. Maria flushed and glanced away. Her shoulders were tense. “Tell me something, at which point did you forget that I’m gay? That of the two other people involved, I only wanted to be with one of you. And it wasn’t you.”

“So you manipulated me to sleep with my boyfriend?” Maria glared.

“If anyone manipulated anyone, it wasn’t me,” Alex countered. “I stayed because I didn’t want to be alone and because the two people I wanted to be with were already there. You were the one who turned it into sex. That’s not what I wanted.”

“You said you didn’t want to leave,” Maria accused.

“I didn’t,” Alex agreed. “And I could have left. I thought about it, I don’t even know how many times I thought about it, but didn’t. And that’s on me. But the fact that I even had to think about it is on you. I never would have even considered it and I know Michael wouldn’t have-”

“No?” Maria scoffed. “You think he didn’t like it?”

“I didn’t say he didn’t like it, I said he wouldn’t have considered it. He made it very clear that he and I were done, that he didn’t want to have sex with me ever again,” Maria fidgeted, “and besides, he knows I’m very gay so no, that never would have happened if you hadn’t initiated it. It’s on you, Maria. And I’m glad you and he both enjoyed it but I didn’t. And you and I are not okay.”

“Alex-”

“I’ve got a lot to do today,” Alex cut her off. He made it one step to his car before he felt her hand on his arm. Alex flinched and ripped it away. The motion caused him to stumble back the last step until he hit the side of the car.

“Alex?” Maria was frozen, her hand hovering over his arm but thankfully not touching him. “What-”

“Don’t touch me.” Alex closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was only his arm but it reminded him of how her hand had dragged down the length of his thigh. He hadn’t taken his pants off, hadn’t been willing to even consider taking his prosthetic off, but he’d shoved his jeans down far enough for her to touch him far more intimately than he was retroactively comfortable with and the memory burned him. “Just- don’t.”

Maria didn’t listen. She took another step towards him, her hand now even closer. “Alex, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” She reached for his shoulder and Alex had to force himself not to react. She wasn’t a threat and it wouldn’t do to treat her like one, especially in the middle of town.

“Alex?” A new voice called. Maria’s hand froze as she turned towards it and Alex felt his shoulders slump just a little. “Maria what the hell?”

“Something’s wrong,” Maria replied. “He’s not okay.”

“Clearly. So back the hell off.” Michael glared at her for a beat before remembering that he was supposed to be in love with her and his gaze softened. Maria didn’t move, though. Alex stayed pressed flat against his car until Michael grabbed Maria’s arm gently and firmly pulled her a step back. “If he’s not okay, don’t crowd him like that. He doesn’t like to be touched.” Alex would really like it if they didn’t talk about him like he wasn’t there but he was too busy taking deep breaths and thanking Michael for his timely appearance to care too much.

“He’s-” Maria started.

“He’s leaving,” Alex snapped. He forced the door open into Michael and slipped inside, shutting the door firmly behind him. Maria started to say something but between the window, the engine, and his music, he didn’t hear her. With a nod of thanks to Michael, Alex pulled out into traffic, the happy couple in his wake.

---

Michael hasn’t sought Alex out in weeks but after the scene with Maria that afternoon, Alex couldn’t quite say he was surprised to open his door at 1am to see the man standing on his porch.

“Guerin.”

“Are you okay?” Michael didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Maria said you blamed her for forcing you into...” he couldn’t even say it.

Alex leaned against the door frame. “I told her we weren’t okay and that that night made me uncomfortable. I also pointed out that if it hadn’t been for her, neither you or I would have ever considered doing such a thing.” Michael looked away. “Am I wrong?” Michael didn’t look at him. “Michael you made it clear that you didn’t want to sleep with me anymore. If Maria hadn’t suggested it, would the idea of a threesome with the two of us have ever occurred to you?”

The corner of his lip quirked upwards. “Maybe in fantasy,” he admitted. “But she’s a woman and you’re gay so no the idea of us actually doing that? No it wouldn’t have occurred to me.”

Alex nodded but didn’t say anything.

“Are we okay Alex?”

Alex leaned his head against the door frame. “Would it matter if we weren’t?”

Michael flinched like Alex had hit him. “Are we not?”

Alex sighed and straightened. “Guerin, for months you have been telling me that we’re nothing and I have tried to be there for you as much as I can but you don’t need me, you’ve got Maria and Max is back,” Alex shook his head with a tiny huff of a laugh, “you don’t need me. And you’ve made it clear you don’t want me. So would it really matter if we weren’t okay? Would it change anything?”

“Yes,” Michael said immediately. “I want us to be okay, Alex.”

Alex considered that. “Then we’re okay.”

Michael blinked. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“But,” Michael looked bewildered. He seemed to struggled with his words for a ling while before Alex took pity on him.

“It’s late. I was heading to bed.” He stepped back out of the way of the door and started to close it. “Good night, Guerin.”

Michael’s hand shot out to stop the door. “You left.”

Alex eased the door open wider and raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“That morning. You got up and you left. I didn’t ask you to leave, I didn’t wa-”

Alex ignored the cut off word. If Michael couldn’t say it, it didn’t matter. “What did you expect me to do? Round 2?”

“No!” Michael denied. He hesitated. “Why’d you leave?”

“Again,” Alex said slowly, “what did you expect?” Michael looked away. “Were you expecting Maria to leave? Because she clearly did not have any intentions of going anywhere. She looked quite comfortable in your bed.”

Michael closed his eyes briefly. “Why do you always leave?”

Something broke inside Alex. “Why do you always push me? You push and you push and you push,” Alex’s voice cracked a little. “And then when I do walk away you never ask me to stay. Not once in ten years have you ever asked me to stay or to come back, Michael. I left, yeah, because we both have issues and you push people away to test them, but I kept coming back. And every single time it was because I wanted to. Not because you asked me to, because you never asked.” He huffed. “How much do you think I can take? Ten years and you never once said you wanted me here. You say things like you don’t look away and we’re cosmic but you don’t ask me to stay. You don’t tell me you want me here. You don’t stop me when I leave or come after me.” Alex shook his head. “You push people to test see how much they care about you. I just wanted you to say it. Just once. Just- ask me to stay or care enough to come after me when I leave. But you don’t. And I have finally started to accept that.” He grabbed the door. “So yeah, Guerin, I left that morning. And you let me. So we’re okay, but we’re not friends and we’re definitely not anything else.” He started to close it. “Go home.”

He shut the door before Michael could reply. There was a moment’s pause and then a thump on the other side. Alex sighed and braced his back against the door.

“Alex?” Michael’s voice was tiny and faint. Alex didn’t say anything. “You joined the Air Force. I can’t compete with the US government no matter how much I wanted you to stay. Asking felt cruel. And I didn’t want to ask only to watch you leave anyway.”

Alex closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry for that night. I’m sorry for ruining things for you and Maria. I’m sorry we’re not friends.” Michael paused. Alex heard him inhale sharply, the stillness of the night letting even the smallest sounds carry. “I know you Alex,” he spoke louder now. “You’re planning to leave.” Alex glanced at the transfer paperwork sitting on the counter. “Don’t. Stay here. Please.”

Alex dropped his head against the door and closed his eyes. There was shifting on the other side and then the lock turned. Alex locked it again quickly.

“Alex,” Michael said plaintively. “Please don’t go. I want-” He stopped.

There was silence until Alex heard the sound of Michael’s truck turning on. He waited until it faded into the night to open his eyes.

The paperwork stared accusingly back.

Alex scooped it up and looked it over before carefully printing and signing his name.

#malex fic #rnm #my fic #anti malexa #anti maria deluca #anti 2x06 #roswell fic #Anonymous

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gisachi · 4 years

Note

Can you do number 30?

Thank you for patiently waiting! Before I start, I need to mention that this is a completely self indulgent drabble, heavily inspired by one of @detectivegeekshin‘s ShinRan doodles. This one. Damn I really really loved it, literally how can a doodle make my heart thump so fast!! So I hope you don’t mind me making a fic out of it!🥴❤️ And for Anon, forgive me if this kinda feels all over the place because halfway through I kinda did some paragraph vomit and derailed...lmao but I hope this still suits your taste, somehow! 😉

30. Weak, sweaty kisses because it’s unbearably hot. (1,726 words)

Shinichi and Ran have a super secret routine after class.

After Shinichi’s return for good, everyone could’ve correctly guessed that the two would be back to being inseparable like bread and butter, so wherever Ran goes, Shinichi goes, except in the bathroom or in club activities.

No one ever questions this, understanding how much time they need together now that they’re making up for what they lost, not to mention how all their classmates find these two incredibly adorable together that they will deliberately go out their way just to see them both being happy spending time in each other’s company.

Which pretty much makes everything nice and convenient for them and their secret routine.

Because no one - absolutely no one - must know about it.

It all started three weeks ago when Shinichi accompanied her to the filthy storage room to return some cleaning equipment after her Tuesday cleaning duty. Idly, he dusted the back of her uniform just below her nape, noticing unnecessary cobwebs that might have clung to the fabric when she moved some big boxes away.

Nothing harmless about doing that, given that the public is a witness of how comfortable they are being innocently touchy with each other. But both realized touches like that translated differently when it’s just the two of them alone. As normal as how he intended it to be, somehow at that moment the sensation of his deft hands grazing her warm back made their breath hitch, throat dry, chest tighten with an overwhelming emotion they couldn’t quite silence at will.

Like any other curious teenage couple, there’s something about being physically close to each other that compels them to just...be closer, as if the knowledge that they’re already in each other’s personal space isn’t enough. Yes, there’s nothing implicative of her boyfriend stroking her back to clean some dirt away. But his hand rested there longer than it should have, and she heard his slow, steady breathing—or hers, she wasn’t so sure—amidst the thick silence of the dim room, nothing but the passage of light from the half-opened door as source of illumination. Instinctively, she turned around and it hit her that they were sharing the same space, same air, same look…

There was barely light but she clearly saw the dangerous glint in his dark irises, longing getting the best of him. He didn’t say anything, but his message came through loud and clear.

All she knew afterwards was the mention of her name escaping his and her hand pulling his tie and his hand on her waist and mouth over her lips and—

Thus the birth of their super secret routine. Just like that.

Ran is no stranger to stories like this. She’s already in high school, and she knows things like this happen to couples their age. As a matter of fact, she does hear stories from Sonoko about sneaky couples going for it on campus and finishing undetected. But never did she expect that they will be one of the guilty ones. She’s always trusted their self-control, believing they’re mature enough to at least keep their hands to themselves until they’re in the privacy of his own house (not in her house where holding hands isn’t even an option, unless they want to give her father a heart attack). But voila, all that is gone, simply because there’s something thrilling about stealing kisses in public that makes her not want to stop.

“Hide your lips, Ran. They’re swollen,” Shinichi warned and teased the first time after they emerged from the storage room, acting all calm and collected as if he wasn’t on high adrenaline tasting her mouth minutes ago.

“Mou, Shinichi! Don’t come with me anymore!” Ran replied, face turning red immediately after recounting how shameless they’d been in there.

But Shinichi would still come, and Ran would let him, and then they’d do it again—

—And still do it, three weeks later.

In terms of intensity, she doesn’t consider them on any high scale; what they do is a lot more innocent compared to what she imagines other more daring couples do. That’s how she knows that they still have their self-control in check. Nothing but kisses, lots of them. No hands under clothes. She isn’t ready for the next step yet and Shinichi knows it from the fact that getting her face to tone down the red takes even longer than the deed itself. Likewise for Shinichi, but months of practice allow him to perfect his poker face that could rival some magician thief the moment they step out the storage room.

Today though, Ran feels a little braver. While she’s pinned between him and a dusty cabinet, she forcibly yanks his tie so it gets a little looser, almost dangling from his neck. That’s the first time she hears him gasp audibly; before, it’s just her. She feels proud of what she’s done, and returns her lips to his.

But then they hear faint footsteps approaching and Ran instantly regrets why, of all days, she has to do the yanking that day where it’ll make it harder for him to hide any evidence of impropriety.

“Caught you!” a shrill voice exclaims, booming in the room like a megaphone.

Sonoko.

Of course, it has to be Sonoko.

The only one who’s brave enough to get in the way of their alone time, just so she can tease them about it later.

Ran should’ve known.

Fortunately, Shinichi has known.

Otherwise, Ran won’t have found herself getting dragged by him inside that old cramped cabinet she was leaning onto seconds ago.

It takes a while before she fully grasps the situation they’re currently in.

Sonoko’s in the storage room, her expectant voice telling enough to let them know that she knows they are in there, while she and Shinichi hide from her in some very narrow cabinet, with little to no air circulating and with space so tight even liquid water cannot seep in.

They wait impatiently for Sonoko to leave. She must leave now, or else Ran’s going to lose her mind over how incredibly intimate and embarrassing their position right now is. Her body literally squeezes his, her hands blocking her chest, while his right hand, for lack of a better space to place it on, grips her waist.

She isn’t sure if it’s her whole body shaking or just her rapid heartbeat vibrating at an outrageous rate that can shatter glass. It’s really warm yet she feels cold sweat dripping down her neck and temple, and Shinichi must be feeling the same too because she hears him curse under his breath, his palm on her waist rubbing it over the fabric of her uniform as if wiping it off of sweat. She sees nothing in the dark despite her eyes wide open, but she can sense his head facing the side, probably due to the cramped space, and she’s close to his ear so she whispers as quietly as she can, “How did she know we’re in here?”

“Beats me. But I figure this is bound to happen,” he shrugs inwardly.

The more they wait, the more the air expands. They hear shuffling sounds outside indicating that their friend hasn’t left yet. As if the heat and tension aren’t enough to kill them, he attempts to start a conversation.

“Seriously, yanking my tie?” He mutters, more air than voice.

“W-Well if I had known I shouldn’t have d-done that!”

“Shh.”

His grip on her waist tightens as the shuffling sound gets closer to them. She doesn’t know how much air she’s holding until she senses his head slowly, soundlessly turning to her. In that instant, every fine hair on her neck tingles to his breathing, and she’s sure he’s wearing a smirk as reckless words roll out from him,

“Wanna be daring?”

His left hand springs out from where it rests behind her, successful in finding her lips in the dark, tracing before parting them slightly, and before Ran can even tell what’s going on, she feels something warm and moist press against them. Weak, tentative, cautious at first. Firm, thorough, unrelenting the second.

Only then does she realize he is kissing her, right then and there.

All while their friend is literally inches away, looking for them.

Oh, her nerves.

Oh, the thrill.

She crumples his uniform under her sweaty hands and hums, his mouth absorbing her nervous plea. Her world zeroes in on his lips kissing her, and everything around her spins and spins like she’s spiraling into some black hole, dragging Shinichi along whom she feels smiling through his goddamn arrogant mouth. What if Sonoko suddenly opens the cabinet and catches them red-handed? Does he have an excuse? Will she think of an excuse? Can they think of an excuse?

They can’t. They’re much too busy indulging themselves.

Perhaps too busy that they fail to notice the shuffling noise disappear little by little. Only when Ran claws on his shirt to ask to breathe for air do they realize that the sound is completely gone and Sonoko has already left.

“Shinichi! What was that for!” Ran half shouts, breathless as they push themselves out the cabinet, her joints and muscles aching all over.

“You didn’t like it?” Shinichi chuckles, mischief in his tone brutally evident, and Ran turns vermillion red.

“Sh-shut up!“

“I’m saying you did tug my tie so hard,” he fixes his tie while Ran hurriedly flattens her hair into something presentable, “and if Sonoko sees us like this she definitely won’t shut up about it.”

She agrees. She doesn’t even want to think about Sonoko’s incessant teasing once she finds out she and Shinichi have this kind of arrangement after class.

“You did something daring today so might as well be daring too.”

With one final touch, Shinichi swipes his lower lip with his thumb, eyeing her playfully while he smirks in satisfaction, before walking to the door. “Let’s go, before she gets even more suspicious.”

Damn. She’s doomed. He knows she’s going to want more of those next time. Every session just keeps getting dangerously better and better.

As they exited the storage room, the only thing in Ran’s mind is how much she cannot wait for the day of Shinichi’s cleaning duty. This guy better prepare himself for her payback.

#shinran #fanfic #kiss prompts #this self indulgent fic went longer than expected #no regrets tho hehe #hope you like it Anon!

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twiceblackvelvet · 5 years

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Can I request Twice Mina honeymoon with her fem idol gf in Hawaii?? Fluff with smut?👀

A/N; sorry for the wait, i hope you enjoy anon. thanks for the request!

Blistering heat settles itself throughout every bone in your body and radiates throughout the entire hotel room. The sun’s glowing beams bursting through the balcony window to illuminate your figure alongside another. Another whose own brightness could easily rival that of the rays threatening to shade both of your skin to a deep and bruising red.

If you had to describe the perfect day, nothing would come close to the experience you’re currently living out. The secluded area surrounded by palm trees with a backdrop of the Pacific Ocean could not be any more fitting for a honeymoon where escaping is the first thing on the agenda.

From a very early age, you’d dreamt about finally getting to walk down the aisle towards someone waiting at the altar, all eyes focused on how breathtaking you both look and to feel overwhelming adoration for the person you’re about to spend the rest of your life with.

Now that the moment is complete, with all of the things you imagined and more happening, you can’t help but focus on the said person you promised forever to just a few short hours ago.

Whoever you ask will gladly tell you that the idol world is intense and full of pressure. Yet, no one could predict you’d find solace in the arms of another navigating through those same struggles. Someone who was so terrified at first to even begin a relationship yet has now become your wife. Pinching your own skin several times throughout the day has put a stop to any doubts that all of this is just a fantasy you’ve dreamt up.

Mina is effortlessly beautiful no matter the place, time or reason. Yet, seeing her in all white with tear-brimmed eyes and a smile wider than the very ocean you find yourself staring out upon from the balcony, you’ve never felt more in love and content.

Whilst the wedding had been organized by the two of you alongside an event planner. The honeymoon was left entirely down to Mina as she vowed to make it the most special getaway to finish off what turned out to be just as she predicted, a perfect wedding filled with emotion. Your cheeks can still feel the outlines of the floods of tears you let out upon seeing Mina ready to commit the rest of her life and love to you.

Hawaii has always held a special place in her heart. There’s a calmness to the tiny island that no other place on Earth holds according to her. Something you’ve never fully understood until now since it’s a tourist hotspot. But as the waves slowly roll in and out, couples idly pass by the beach and the sun causes the sand to glisten, you get why Mina loves it here.

Arms slowly circle around your waist as she presses the front of her body to your back. Gentle kisses placed on your shoulder blades as you sway back and forth within her embrace.

“It’s perfect here Mina.” You practically whisper, not wishing to disturb the peacefulness surrounding you both even slightly.

“Just like you.” One last gentle kiss reaches your neck as she drags your body back through the balcony doors and crashing the two of you back down onto the bed.

A minute passes with the two of you just holding each other close and looking into one another’s eyes softly, full of love. Your fingers intertwined as she idly rubs her thumb across the side of your face.

The sheets still tangled from the two of you sleeping off the jetlag as soon as you entered the room, suitcases and bags scatter the floor not yet opened. Mina’s body shifts first to hover above your own as her stare remains intense. Her nose almost brushes softly against your own until she finally leans in to capture your lips with hers.

No matter how many times you feel her soft, plump lips against your own, it always manages to drive you insane. She’s addictive and tastes like champagne as her tongue requests access to your own. It’s unclear whether your stomach or your heart is the one doing somersaults from Mina being so filled with passion and lust but your body is ready to reciprocate it all.

Her teeth drag along your lower lip as she hurriedly removes your shirt almost ripping it in the process. Your hands are quick to catch up with where your new wife is trying to get to as they roam her own body and undo the button on her shorts. She stands on the bed, eyes remaining on your own from above as she steps out of them and throws her vest over her head.

“Take those off.” She demands and motions towards your jeans. Without hesitation, you move your body to sit up and remove them for her viewing pleasure. A slow roll of her tongue across her mouth as she practically salivates at the sight of your thighs. She slowly kneels back to eye level with your own body as her hands push your shoulders back into the mattress. Her legs straddle your waist as she places lazy kisses to your cheek, down to your neck and to coat your collarbones.

“This next.” She pulls back the left strap of your bra and lets it snap against your skin as you once again comply immediately.

Her eyes turn dark at your obedience to her every command as she lowers her body to places kisses across your chest. Her movements to anyone else would be considered antagonizing and slow, but you know better that she prefers to take her time to love every single body part equally rather than rush the experience of making love to each other.

Her tongue draws circles around your nipple, suckling and biting lightly to allow you to release sharp moans that she’s fallen in love with listening to. In fact, if someone were to ask her, she has no idea if hearing you say “I do” or letting yourself go to pleasure like this is more pleasing to her ears which are currently burning red.

A warm hand gropes your tongue-less breast and applies pressure as she moves her body lower down your stomach. As she reaches your pelvis, her teeth pull on the underwear blocking her path until she raises her head and removes her hand from your chest. Despite the warmth outside, losing her touch makes your body shiver.

“Now this.” Before she’s even finished speaking you’re entirely bare for her eyes only and they refuse to look at anything but your own, only drifting to your naked form once she’s ready to continue.

Confidence is not an easy thing to gain, and yet, Mina’s eyes wandering across your sun-kissed skin brings about a sense of freedom to just be in this moment, deeply in love with someone so passionate about giving you every bit of pleasure you desire.

“Beautiful” She whispers before tugging your chin upward to press a rough kiss to your lips. Her fingers slowly running down the expanse of your neck, chest and resting firmly on your hipbone. “How would you like me, Mrs. Myoui?”

Her flirtatious tone as well as finally being addressed by your new family name is enough to drive you insane, and yet you manage somehow to stop yourself from releasing a gleeful yelp.

You can feel her body tense with anticipation as she awaits instruction on how you’d like to finally consummate your marriage. Her lips curl into a smirk as she slowly begins to suck at the pulse point on your neck.

A shudder of pleasure and low whine makes Mina relax, satisfied that she’s warming you up to whichever main prize you’re craving from her.

“I just want you inside of me, now.”

Without hesitating for a second longer, her hands begin to lightly claw down your body once more. Her lips following as she places light kisses to your naval, inner thighs and already dripping core. She inserts two of her fingers first into her own mouth and then allows them to steadily find their way inside of you.

Her fingers rest there for a second as her face twists with uncertainty.

“Talk to me, tell me what you want, tell me how badly you need this.” She demands once more. You try your hardest to gain any form of friction, however, her free hand forces your hips down into the mattress as she once again repeats her request. “Tell me, or I’ll make you wait and beg for it all week, you know better than to act up like this.”

She’s right, you do. Yet, you can’t help but try to push your luck with her every single time. Now is not the time to rebel, however, as your body is practically begging for her to get to work and bring about your release.

“I want you to fuck me, Mina. I need you to fuck me, please.”

Her fingers curl against your walls as your breath hitches in your throat at finally being able to feel her working her fingers back and forth inside of you. A thumb quickly joins to draw slow circles against your clit. You desperately cling to the messy bedsheets as her tongue sucks on the inside of your thigh, nibbling every now and then.

Everything about Mina is intoxicating and carnal. Passion emanates from her very being and creates a bubble of ecstasy that only the two of you exist within. Both of your eyes remain trained with each other. Her seductive brown orbs filled with lust awaiting to watch your body squirm with pleasure as she begins to pick up the pace, hungry to give and hear your climax.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” She purrs and moves her red lips to replace her thumb positioned on your clit. Your head rolling back to break the eye-contact finally as she laps at your juices, her tongue pressing harder every time and flicking around in circles wildly.

Your body jerks at the increased pressure and speed as you let out a low groan, wrapping one of your legs over Mina’s shoulder.

“Mina,” your voice husky and stuttering. “Mina, I’m gon- Fuck,”

You crumble and dissolves into pleasure as your orgasm courses throughout your entire body, leg shaking against the side of Mina’s head still firmly attached to your entrance as she laps up all of your juices and allows her fingers to slow to a stop.

As your body begins to tense, she raises her head from between your legs and removes her two fingers. Her tongue suckling on her digits to make sure she’s tasted every part of you possible.

Before your brain can register anything other than the pulsation from where her fingers were previously positioned, Mina is straddling you once more. Grabbing your hands and placing them onto her hips as she begins to grind herself down onto your thigh positioned between her legs.

“Come on, baby. Help a girl out.” She breathes out.

Almost on instinct, your body jolts forward to press light kisses against her breasts still covered by a black lace bra. Your hands are slow to help rock her hips back and forth, still overwhelmed with pleasure. However, her pace is quick by itself as she throws her arms around your neck and teeth gnaw lightly on your ear.

You can feel her wet slit squelching against your thigh as she gives up on biting and nuzzles her head into your neck. Moaning breathlessly against your hair as she edges closer to coming undone from simply pressing herself against you.

Mina has always had a thing for your legs, but this is the first time she’s attempted something like this. Her hands would always linger towards them and she’s developed a bit of a kink for placing small bites to the skin on the inside of them. Even going as far as seeing how low she can place the marks without anyone realizing what they are from.

Quite frankly, you can’t think of a better time or way to introduce new things to your relationship than your honeymoon and you’re more than happy to indulge her, forcing her hips down further and shaking your leg against her core.

“Yes, baby, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.” she whimpers and repeats several times over before her body flops beside your own to the mattress.

Your eyes once again find her own as they flutter open and shut several times. A small smile graces her lips as she crawls to clean up your slick coated thigh with her tongue and using one of her fingers to gesture some of her juices towards your own mouth, which you accept not-so gracefully.

“Thank you. I’ve wanted to do that for so long now.” She lays flat on her back and tugs at your arm to join her. “I love you.”

“I love you too, but we really must discuss this thing with my thighs.” You chuckle at your own words as she covers her face with embarrassment.

“Sure, but later. We aren’t finished here.”

Your bodies continue to entwine themselves in a web of sensuality as the sun begins to set. Hawaii is a special place for Mina before today, but now, it means so much more to have you here in her arms as you both begin your married life fulfilling desires and having your confessions of undying love and pleasure washed away with the ocean.

#twice #kpop #kpop scenarios #girl group scenarios #twice mina #myoui mina #twice scenarios #twice reactions #twice imagines #mina #girl group imagines #girl group reactions #kpop imagines #smut #twice smut #mina smut

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shnuggletea · 4 years

Photo

I got this amazing review that really inspired me. I was just going to write a nice little bow on the end of this. But they really showed me the potential as well as showed me there were a lot of strings still left to tie up! I really hate they left it as a guest, I want to give them credit. So, dear anon, this chapter is for you! Thank you for your review and I’ll be answering all your questions in this chapter and ones to come!

I hope this is funny in places. I thought it was lol. Anyway, here is a Prequel chapter showing you were the boys came from a little bit more. I might show more later, a sister story was requested. Idk if I’ll get to all that. Maybe next year for sins week, we’ll see.

Keeping with ‘tradition’ I wrote this today! So many other things I should be working on but what am I gonna do yeah? Maybe more reviews on this will make me write more lol. Yes, this is rushed but I wanted consistency and also, I wanted to get it to you all. It’s also in third person because it’s all past tense to when the original story began. It just felt right to me. I hope you like it anon and if I didn’t answer a question, no worries, I’m getting to it!!

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Nominated for best comedy for Feudal Connections Fourth Quarter 2020!!!

“A story has no beginning or end: arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead.” ― Graham Greene, The End of the Affair

Miroku

The water crashed against the cave's opening, waking him from what was, otherwise, a delightful sleep. It had been centuries of the same, crawling into his cave as early as his body would allow all so he could drift off into a world of 'make-believe'.

He knew it was more than that; that it was more than just his wishful thinking. It was the same scenery most nights but he relished slipping into his unconsciousness each and every night. It made the days drag on so long now.

Pulling himself out and into the open, he glanced up towards the high cliff above. It had been so long since the Monk Miroku and the children had come to the edge to learn and play. Many years, in fact, but he had long ago lost count of all that. So he was surprised when a young girl sat close to the edge. He climbed up the side to get a better look and listen.

"Oh god… please…." she cried. He wished he could comfort the girl but what could he do with his tentacles? "Please… I love him so much. Help him to love me in return or… let me move on…"

Her eyes danced to the water below, the deadly waves hitting the rocks hard for emphasis. This girl wanted to end her life over love? Was it truly that great? It was hard for him to imagine love being that powerful but he only had his dreams to go off of.

The girl sat for a few more moments, sobbing before slowly pushing off the ground. She stood, looking over the edge and he feared she would run over it, ending her life and suffering the easy way.

"Christine!" The girl spun, and his demon hearing allowed him to hear the hitch in her throat. A boy, who looked the same age, bounded up to her. "What are you doing here?"

She shook her head and looked away, "I could ask you the same thing?"

"I'm looking for you!"

The squid demon took in their appearances for the first time. Their clothes were strange. The girl wore pants and not a skirt. And the boy wore a small shirt with words printed on it. It had been a long time since he had come up from the cave but he was delighted to see the clothing matched the girl in his dreams. Made it seem less crazy and also… meant the time was near.

The girl pressed her face into her palms and sobbed. "I'm sorry. I.. I want to be… happy for you but I just can't…"

There was nothing else said, the boy stomping up to the girl and wrapping his hold around her hard. A few moments passed with them like that and then, the boy whispered, "Let's be happy together then?"

The girl tried to pull away to see or fight, the demon wasn't sure, but the boy refused to let her go, no matter what she did. "You… you were with her! I saw you! You love her!"

"No, I don't."

This was the boy she was pining for and now that he was here for her, she fought against him hard? Pushing and hitting? The boy didn't let go and the squid was close to stepping in. The girl may have wanted the boy but she wanted him to let go now! Just as he pushed off the rock he had camouflaged himself to, the boy pulled the girl back and she jumped up to kiss him. The squid watched on in awe, completely confused about what was going on.

The girl, Christine, wanted this boy so much, she considered ending her life when he wasn't in it. Then, when he comes for her, she tries to push him away? All ending with the two of them intimately pressed together? The squid made his leave when the two started taking off clothing, slinking back down to the water. But the scene never left his brain, not as he caught his dinner or swam back to his cave.

Is that how women were now? Wearing pants and pretending to want one thing when they really wanted the other?

The question was still buzzing in his brain when he laid down, safe from the current and crushing waves deep in his dark home. He had barely closed his eyes when he saw her, his sweet girl. She had stopped being sweet long ago, now bitter and scorned. He longed for her, just like Christine did for that boy. Only difference was, Christine wanted to die for the boy while the squid wanted to live for Sango. It pained him to watch over the years as she was used and abused by men. He would never do that to her.

Now he watched as she left a place full of tables and white cloth. She looked amazing even if the dress wasn't what he was used to. He could tell, she was trying hard, the curls dying in her hair proof. He knew her better than anyone, Sango was trying to look really nice even though she was gorgeous no matter what she did.

Sango returned to her home, sitting beside her friend. He liked Kagome. She was smart and strong, he could see it through Sango's eyes sometimes. The dreams varied from him watching to him seeing. Tonight, he watched. But he could still see the disappointment and heartbreak on his dear Sango's face. He would never do that to her.

That was when he saw the book.

Every demon knew of witches and their abilities. What humans called witches, demons called dark Priestesses. But it was the same, good or bad, their witches were our Priestesses. In fact, Sango's dear friend Kagome had a little Priestess in her. It was one of the reasons she searched books like the one Sango held now and why the squid liked her so much. Deep down, the squid demon always knew Kagome would be the one to bring him to his mate.

Right there, in Sango's hands, was exactly how he could be with her. Years, he had spent alone and then the dreams came of Sango. He, at first, felt the dreams of her were enough. But as she grew into a woman and started seeing other men, he needed to be by her side. He didn't fault her for having a love life. For being with other men. But he didn't like the men she chose, breaking her and making her sullen. Those men were ruining his mate.

Sango shed a few tears he wished he could brush away for her and flipped through the book. More than ever, he wished he could affect these dreams. Be heard or seen or something.

Sango was nearing the right page and had turned from truly reading to glancing idly. If he didn't do something, she was going to miss the spell that would bring them together. Christine, the girl on the cliff, came to his mind. So the squid knelt down next to his love, silently prayed to the above, then whispered.

"I can be yours, Sango. Just read the next page."

It was all he could do. And he knew this already, his dreams may have given him a human body but they didn't allow him to do anything human. Like touch or smell his mate.

If Sango skipped over the page, the one with the incantation for a mate, he was going to lose his mind. He might actually throw himself off the cliff! But that wouldn't kill him, he already tried back before Sango was alive.

He watched with bated breath as her fingers gripped the frail paper, pulling it up and over, revealing the page he had been waiting years for her to see and discover. Not moving an inch, not even breathing if that was really a thing in this dream state, he listened. Sango didn't push on past the page like she had the others. Instead, she read. Intently.

Her breath caught, just like Christine's on the cliff, and Sango read over the words again and again and again. So he leaned into her ear again and whispered. "This is it. This is what you've been searching for."

Reaching out, he pretended to brush her hair out of her face, holding his hand off her skin just enough for it to seem real. If he actually tried to touch her, his hand would go through her like the illusion it all was. But with this page in her hold, it wouldn't be long now. Sango would show this to Kagome and the two of them would be compelled by fate to enact it.

It was only a matter of time, and for the first time, he didn't detest the thought of the ticking clock.

oOo

Naraku

"Ah… ah… oh Naraku…. AH!"

Naraku didn't stop his rough thrusts into the girl under him until he came, just as she had. He made sure to pull out but didn't hesitate to get his cum all over her sheets. He didn't want the attachment to this woman, like a bastard child, but he did want to mark his territory. Naraku would never see this woman again but she would think of him long after.

She was cooing on the bed behind him as he got to his feet and to his clothes. "That was… amazing…"

The woman was drunk, what did she know? He had gotten his release, that was all he cared about. It wasn't amazing in the least but it would do for now.

Naraku already had his slacks on his hips when she caught on to his hurried movements. "Wait… you're not staying?"

Glancing back, he caught the genuine disappointment on the woman's face and he huffed. "As… Lovely as this was, it was far from the best for me."

"Excuse me?"

Releasing a frustrated sigh, Naraku turned back to the woman. "Look, I've already forgotten your name. You're not the one I really want and that's a good thing for you. You got to have a nice evening and great sex. I, however, just got to cum on your sheets."

"You're an asshole!"

Turning, he went for the door, "yes, I know."

The truly important thing about all of this was keeping himself awake. The last thing he wanted was to sleep lately. His nightmares were the worst. All he ever dreamed of lately was his mate fucking other men. Who wanted to sleep while that was going on in their head?

Now out on the small and empty street of the tiny town, he lived in, Naraku stretched his human arms over his head high and shook the fatigue out of his bones the best he could. He had been up for… fifty-one hours now? He really wasn't counting. That was one thing he lost when he gave up his demon body for a human one, he tired.

He did love sex though, and the human women made it so easy for him. Practically threw themselves at him. The Priestess that gave him this body included.

Pausing for a moment, he drew a hand through his golden locks to straighten them and rubbed some of the sleep out of his bright blue eyes. Sometimes he missed his darker coloring but beggars couldn't be choosy. And this body was nice, slender and strong. It would do, it got him what he wanted. Fucking the Priestess hadn't been planned but when she offered him his immortality with his human body, he banged the old hag, giving her his 'virginity' as she put it.

So really, although not how he saw himself, this body was perfect. Except for the hunger and need for rest.

This was the first time he had pushed his body so long so hard ever and the sidewalk was starting to sway beneath him. It made his stomach turn, all of it reminding him of when he first moved his soul into this body. It hadn't been that long ago and the memory of it was still fresh. Just like a nightmare, he found himself fighting the feeling. He didn't want to go anywhere, not into another body, and not to sleep. The last thing he wanted was to ever see his damn mate.

Now he was running. Down the street and stumbling as he did. Where could he go? Back to the woman he just left? He doubted he could talk her into another round after how he treated her. It wouldn't be the first time he weaved his honeyed words and twisted his lips into a devilish smile to get his way. But he didn't have the energy. It was draining from him fast.

The last thing he did was fall. It was into an alley that was at least clean. A homeless man hovered over him, asking him if he was alright but his mouth refused to move to answer. That was it until he found himself standing in a strange place with two strange men.

They were naked but so was he. Searching his body, he found his skin was no longer pale and instead of olive. Then, a dark lock fell over his shoulder and into his view. Touching the foreign strand, it felt coarse and textured. His hair had been short to his scalp and soft. Not to mention light blonde. Now his hair was mahogany brown.

Looking around, Naraku decided he had to be in an apartment. It looked similar to the one he left moments ago. Wait.. had it been moments? It was nearly dawn when he stepped back on the street but now the sun was setting.

Stomping around the couch and the other fools taking in the place, Naraku found a clock on the stove. It read seven but he had to guess that it meant seven pm. Next, he found a bathroom. Inspecting himself in the mirror, he couldn't complain. This was body was more aligned with what he expected the first time he was given a human form. The old Priestess had given him a body that matched her fantasies. Not his.

The two fools were still looking around the place. Naraku looked at the two of them. One had white hair and dog ears while the other had dark features, like him, but a strange-looking penis. Naraku only had his to compare and he was flawless. The poor fellow had a gnarly looking dick.

Not Naraku's problem though.

"They did it." The odd cock fellow whispered. "They actually did it! We're here!"

"The hell are you talking about?"

The strange penis man looked at him with a grin. "Our mates; they summoned us."

The man with the ears made a strange yipping sound and went to the door. Then he just stood there, silent and happily waiting. Naraku, on the other hand, was seething. "Why the hell would they do that?!"

"Because they wanted us?" Odd cock answered. "Just as we wanted them."

"I didn't want my mate. I didn't want any of this!"

"You didn't want to be human?" The one by the door asked, cocking his ears to the sides.

"I already was human! I had a life, one I enjoyed. Now I'm stuck here in this body with a slut for a mate!"

"You can't blame your mate for what they did before they knew you…" Weird prick started.

Naraku cut him off, "I can and I will. I'm going to fuck my mate and move on. Then she'll move on as that is what she does."

"You know her better than anyone, do you really think that's true?"

Naraku glared at the one with ears. He was still by the door, acting like a dog. Perhaps that's where the ears came from? Being a dog first while Naraku was human had made his transformation seamless while these two still had animal features. Must have been a weak spell or Priestess. Or one that wasn't dark, it was a spell for a Dark Priestess to do, not a good one.

But the dog was perceptive, even for a mutt. Naraku did know his mate well. All about her past. How her father left her and her mother beat her for it. None of it was ever Kikyo's fault but she took the blame anyway. And then she tried to replace her family with anyone willing. They never lived up to her standards as far as a lover. Kikyo had many missteps with her friends throughout the years but had finally made some good ones.

Whether they had anything to do with him in this damn body now, Naraku didn't know. But Kikyo would have told them for sure, she trusted those two more than anyone.

But none of that mattered. "Look, pup, I had a life and a body. An immortal one. And now I'm stuck in this one. It will age and I will die thanks to my damn mate. Nothing she can do will make up for that."

It was clear on their faces that they didn't agree with him but they remained silent about it. All that was left was to wait. Their mates would enter and he could take his away to show her what she'd been missing. Then never see her again.

These fools. They wanted to be tied to their mates and this life.

Naraku had something to lose, something he did lose. While these two freaks didn't know what they were missing. The one with the funky johnson was going to find out soon. No way his mate would accept that messed up schlong inside her. The guy was going to die a virgin. Some life.

The mutt started going nuts so Naraku had to assume that meant their mates were there. Chunky phallus took a deep breath to steady himself while the puppy scratched at the door. The first one to enter, the dog jumped on. Naraku recognized her from his dreams, a close friend to his mate, Kagome was more than just another woman. That much was clear to Naraku and to peculiar peter as they both slightly bowed to the woman on instinct. He couldn't control it and Kagome didn't even notice. Too distracted by her new pet.

When his mate entered, he felt light-headed. Never had a woman affected him as Kikyo did and he hated it. Her eyes went to him and she offered him a coy smile. So he smiled back, knowing just what she wanted from him. He would supply it in spades but she wouldn't be satisfied by another ever again.

That was his revenge for taking him away from his perfect body and shoving him into a mortal one.

oOo

Inuyasha

He took careful steps, the pads of his paws pressing into the pavement and stinging slightly from the heat of it. Inuyasha hated the crowded city life but he had no choice. This was where he was needed.

Inuyasha was behind his prey, and they were yet to take notice. He was an excellent hunter, it was how he found her so far from his and her home. Would she recognize him? Would she be scared? It was far from the first time he had found her and approached but it had been a few years.

Creeping up, he watched her bend over to pick something off the ground. Studying her hindquarters, head to stop himself from mounting her. But he did stick his muzzle against it, feeling the plushness of it against his nose.

She shrieked and turned, ready to swat. But all of her anger melted away when she took sight of him. "Awwweee, hello there, Puppy."

Getting down on one knee, she held out a hand for him to smell but he knew her scent better than anything. Inuyasha quickly licked her fingers before she could pull away, getting a sweet giggle out of her.

"Where did you come from? Are you lost?"

He was right where he was supposed to be, pushing headfirst into her arms. Inuyasha was a little too eager and she fell to the ground from her perch, onto her lovely ass.

"Whoa, I like you too."

Kagome was laughing, letting him lick her just as she always did. But he pulled back to let her return the affection, scratching him behind his ears. She sighed softly, happy, and he wished more than anything to always make her feel this way. But he couldn't, not in this form. Inuyasha was pretty sure she would freak if she knew the truth about him. He was a dog demon.

Thanks to his human mother and the curse put upon half-demon children, Inuyasha got to spend the first five years of his life in a human body, only to be forced into a dog form for the rest of it. That way, he knew what he lost and had no way to fix it. Oh, how Inuyasha's mother had wept.

Even knowing he was hurting himself and his mate, he just couldn't stay away from Kagome.

The last time he saw her, she was just becoming an adult. And she was crying. Over some asshole that broke her heart. It tore at him greatly, never wanting to share his mate with anyone, but it wasn't her fault. It was all Inuyasha's.

Now, she looked better. Older and happier. But there was still an underlying sadness to her. He could see and smell it. And he could see it in his dreams, how she often cried when she was alone. It broke him even more to see it. So he pushed deeper into her and Kagome wrapped her arms around him fully, allowing him to nuzzle her neck.

"You remind me of a dog I once knew. But, he would be long dead now." No, he wasn't, I'm right here in front of you. "He was gorgeous, just like you."

Only Kagome ever made him feel like this. Like he wasn't a monster. He licked her ear tenderly as a reward for her kindness. She repaid him with another giggle.

When she pulled back from him, a sad look on her face, he knew what she was going to say. "I wish I could take you home with me. But my place doesn't allow dogs." Just as he thought; she was going to leave him soon. "I have a few minutes right now if you want to take a walk with me?"

He wagged his tail so hard, it might fall off. Kagome laughed brightly and got to her feet. People passed them, giving her strange looks, but Kagome ignored them as usual. Never had she ever made him feel lesser. It was one of the many things he loved about her.

Kagome sat on a bench in the park she led him to. Inuyasha recognized the place as Kagome visited it often. To relax and think. He had watched her for hours over the years, never being too far from her if he could help it.

Hopping up, he joined her on the bench and sat in her lap as much as he could. Her laughter returned, welcoming him even as he overwhelmed her with his size. They soon fell into a comfortable silence, Kagome running her fingers through his mane in a tantalizing and relaxing manner. If he were ever to die, this was where he wanted to be when he did.

The more time that passed, the more fear crept up into his belly that she would soon leave him. Or that he would leave her, unable to stay with her like this for very long. It killed him but it was how it had to be. Until the curse of his form was broken, he could never be with a human for long. They always met misfortune. Kagome was different but he didn't dare chance it.

She sighed and he knew this would have to end soon. Her fingers were tracing around his ears so things were about to get dangerous if he didn't leave soon. For both of them.

"The last time I saw that dog you remind me of… I was such a mess. I should have taken him in and I always regretted it. But, stupid me, thought that he would be a replacement. You see… my boyfriend had just… dumped me." What she meant was, she found out he was seeing another woman at the same time and Kagome left him, but she was trying to save face in front of Inuyasha. Kagome didn't know he was the same dog and her mate, and that he knew all. "I didn't want to take the responsibility lightly or on a whim. But I wish I had, he was so sweet. Just like you." She found his chin and scratched, making his foot dance. "I feel like… dogs like you are always around when I need them the most. You've always been there for me haven't you?" It was as if, Kagome looked into his soul through his eyes, looking for the answer he couldn't answer. "What if… I just snuck you into my place? You could live with me for as long as you like. I would take really good care of you, I promise."

His heart leapt in excitement no matter how much Inuyasha told it to calm down. He couldn't live with Kagome no matter how much he wanted to. More than anything, he wanted to tell her this. Tell her he loved her and wanted to be with her but that he couldn't. He couldn't risk giving her his curse. And that he would always want more. Inuyasha was sure he could never live with Kagome while she loved other men.

Inuyasha would risk that to be with her forever though.

As it were, the worst that would happen is he would outlive her. He would have to watch her age while he never so much as shred a fang. That would be the worst curse of all.

She carefully pushed him back and got to her feet. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Kagome ran, skipping as she fled. Inuyasha watched her as long as he could before leaving the bench and the woman he loved behind. A few feet away, he watched from the cover of some trees as she returned. His heart fell with hers, watching her slump with a sob to the bench they had shared.

Reaching into her bag, the plastic one she had returned with, he caught sight of the red collar in her hands. Running her fingers over it, Kagome took another moment to mourn and then left. While he would never stop mourning.

#inuyasha fandom #inuyasha fanfiction #sinfully human #inuyasha sins #inukag #miroku x sango #kikyo x naraku #prequel #explaining some things #thank you anon #tell me to write more folks

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stilloutofmyvulcanmind · 4 years

Text

May Flowers Challenge Day 16

Prompts: “I brought you your coffee” + “Can I borrow that book of yours?” requested by Anon

Pairing: H.R x Reader

Word count: 960

Warnings: None

Half asleep at your desk, you reached out in search of the mug of coffee you’d brought down to the lab with you. After nearly two days of no sleep, it was about the only thing pulling you through another all-nighter for the Team. Hand closing around its goal, you raised the trademark S.T.A.R Labs adorned mug to your lips. Empty. Of course it was.

You could go and get yourself another you thought, but the trudge from the lab to the break room felt like miles away, and at this point, you weren’t entirely sure if you should be trusted around boiling water anyway.

Sheer force of will was going to have to keep you up then.

Reading through some of the test numbers that came up on the computer screen, you didn't notice someone coming in behind you.

"I brought you your coffee," H.R said, setting a fresh mug down next to you, "just how you like it."

In your sleep-deprived state you couldn't even muster up the energy to act on your surprise. Instead, you grabbed the mug and took a long sip, reveling in the warmth. With a groan, you smiled up at him. "This is perfect, thank you."

H.R returned the smile, placing a hand over his heart and doing a small bow. "Couldn't let you go without, not when you're working so hard."

"How'd you know I was out?"

"I got to learn how often everyone needs their coffee on an all-nighter. B.A is every hour. San Francisco every two." H.R sat on the chair next to your own, twirling a drumstick between his fingers before pointing it in your direction, "And you, you're every ninety minutes. You didn't come and get some yourself, so I thought I'd do the honors."

"You're a lifesaver. I don't know what I'd do without you."

H.R laughed, "Oh, you, Y/N, you're capable of anything. You don't need me or anyone."

"I'd rather not find out. I like having you around, and besides, no one else gets my coffee just right."

"Despite popular belief, I do have some talents."

"I think you have quite a few. One just has to look close enough." Before anything else could be said, the computer beeped, alerting you to some new results. Frowning as you read them, you scrubbed a hand over your eyes before looking back to H.R. "These are more complicated than I thought. I'll definitely be here the rest of the night, so you might as well get some rest."

H.R shook his head, "If you're awake, I'm awake. Who else will keep your mug full?"

"Thank you." Taking another sip, you sighed, "Y'know, I miss being able to drink coffee just because I enjoy it, and not because I need it."

Twirling the drumstick, H.R looked at you a moment. "It's settled then! I'm gonna whisk you away on a coffee date! Saturday?"

Nodding, the smile crept back onto your face. "Saturday."

"Wait, so the whole thing takes place in space?!"

"Yeah!" H.R laughed, picking up the book that sat on the table and glancing over the back cover, "Where is it in yours?"

"Lurking in the sewers of a small town! Like a normal demonic, child-killing clown!"

"Yeah, yeah that makes more sense."

Throwing your head back in laughter, you clutched at your ribs. In the last twenty minutes, H.R had made you laugh so hard they ached now. You were on the promised coffee date, and after the week you'd had, the new frothy monstrosity Jitters was serving along with H.R's company was exactly what you needed.

H.R held up your copy, "Can I borrow this book of yours?"

"Of course, as long as you tell me more about the differences. Your Earth is so-"

"Weird?"

"Fascinating."

"That's one way to put it." After taking a sip of his coffee, H.R twirled the mug around on the table. "I prefer this Earth."

"Yeah?"

"It has things impossible to find on mine."

"The coffee really swings Earth-1 that much in our favor, huh?"

H.R chuckled and nodded, "The coffee is one thing. But there is also more than that. I found a home too."

You smiled warmly at him, "I'm happy you found a place you love."

"That's the thing; I always thought home had to be a place. Since coming here I've learned that it doesn't. It can be who you surround yourself with too."

"Yeah, yeah it can. You'll always have a home on the Team."

H.R smiled, turning his attention to idly flicking through the pages of the book. "I love you all, but my home, my home is with just one person."

There was a slight twinge of disappointment in your belly but you pushed it down. No matter what, you always wanted him to be happy. "That person is very lucky."

"I'm not sure you'll think that once you find out who it is."

"Who?"

Suddenly H.R looked back up, piercing blue eyes meeting your own, "You."

You looked at him a moment, letting the information sink in. "I revise what I said. I'm not just lucky, I'm the luckiest person on any Earth."

The grin was back, and you weren't sure you'd ever seen him so happy. "You're one of a kind, Y/N. Since I've been here you've been my light, my muse, the one person I want to give my heart to."

"Pretty sure that's the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me."

"Give me the chance and I'll say it to you every day."

Blushing, you nodded. "I can't think of anything better."

"Neither can I."

Like what you read? Consider buying me a coffee! (I’ll love you forever!)

#May Flowers Challenge #H.R Wells x reader #hr wells x reader #h.r. wells #HR Wells #harrison wells x reader #dc imagine #The Flash #harrison wells imagine #harrison wells

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cinnaminsvga · 5 years

Text

💋 | tlhc!yoongi

the sleep deprived series (n.): drabbles that i write when i’m sad and tired

→ tlhc!yoongi ft. jungkook | 3.5K words → a/n: this was written after an anon sent me a REALLY angsty idea for tlhc and i haven’t stopped thinking about it since. also, this takes place after namjin’s wedding but before yoongi and y/n get together (in this drabble, they’re “dating” but i say that loosely because... well. they’re fucking yoongi and y/n so OFC they’re stupidly, emotionally constipated). anyway... here’s This!! rip!!

Yoongi knows he’s being childish when he leaves your shared apartment with a large pout on his face. He knows that if he just tried a little harder, he could’ve convinced you to let him stay at home instead of going to some godforsaken bachelor party. He hasn’t been to a party involving body shots and strippers since he graduated from university, and he isn’t exactly keen on returning to that particular scene either. He has always been a more wine and dine type of guy, and everyone is aware of this.

It’s a well-known fact amongst his circle of friends that Min Yoongi isn’t keen on attending most types of social gatherings. Birthdays, weddings, anniversaries, casual get-togethers… It didn’t matter what the occasion is because Yoongi is certainly going to hate every second of it. It didn’t even matter if the party was being hosted by a long-time friend; after all, sitting in a room filled with half-strangers and estranged friends isn’t exactly what Yoongi would consider a “fun time.”

It doesn’t stop people from inviting him out of courtesy, though.

Most of the time, Yoongi is able to grit through the pain of human interaction as long as you tagged along with him. You’re kind of like Yoongi’s walking meat shield when it comes to parties, though you aren’t exactly fond of his analogy when he had explained himself to you. Nevertheless, you always did understand him better than anyone else, always being his savior from awkward small talk by redirecting the conversation away from him. Or, you would quietly tug him outside to the backyard so that the two of you could pet the party owner’s dog or something.

Truly, what would he have done without you?

“I still don’t understand why you expect me to go to this party alone. You’re practically feeding me to the sharks,” Yoongi whines, not at all immaturely. He can hear your exasperated sigh through his phone speakers, though he imagines that you hadn’t been aiming to conceal your ire in the first place.

“Yoonie, it’s Jungkook’s bachelor party. You heard what that dweeb said: ‘No girls allowed’ or some shit. Like some sort of toddler. I’m surprised he even asked you to attend.”

“Are you implying that I should be barred entry because of my feminine hips?” Yoongi asks, hopeful. “Cause honestly, I was only kinda offended when Jungkook said I had twink-sized proportions, so I mean…”

You scoff, though Yoongi can imagine you shaking your head with tired fondness. AKA, your default mood towards him on most days. Yoongi doubts that fondness is going to help him convince you to let him get the fuck out of this party, though. “Save it. You’re going to that party or else.”

Yoongi sniffs, offended. “Honestly, you should be the one going instead of me. I’m not as close to that pussyboi as you are.”

“Hey, only I’m allowed to call him that,” you chide. “Besides, you already left the house. I don’t understand why you’re calling me in the first place. It’s almost 8PM and you should be at the restaurant by now.”

It’s true. Yoongi is literally already in front of the restaurant where they all agreed to meet before heading out to the “main event,” or whatever the hell that means. It could only end badly; after all, Park Jimin had been the one to organize this shitshow of a bachelor party. Things will not go in Yoongi’s favor tonight if Jimin can help it.

“I’m only here because you threatened to disfigure Kobe Bryant-sunbaenim! That bobblehead is limited edition!” Yoongi has the strongest urge to stomp his feet, though he restrains himself only so that the hostess by the entrance of the restaurant won’t call the manager on him (again.) He is nearing his 30’s for fuck’s sake! Then again, Seokjin is a year older than him and if Yoongi’s future is anything like his, he shudders to think what might become of him.

“Yoonie,” you say, voice steely and quiet. Uh oh. You’re getting genuinely angry by now, and Yoongi knows he’s pushing your buttons to their limits. However, he wouldn’t be doing it otherwise if he really didn’t want to go to this party. He hates disappointing you, but nothing on this planet could ever make him want to go through those mahogany doors and face that bucktoothed loser with stars in his googly eyes.

Yoongi sighs, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly. “I know, I know. I’m being childish. It’s just a party and I should just endure it. Although, I’m not promising that I’ll even try to pretend that I’m enjoying it. That’s beyond my paygrade, I’m afraid,” Yoongi says, picking his hangnails as he gazes at the entrance of the restaurant. The hostess’ left eyebrow twitches slightly, a forced customer service smile on her lips. Yoongi feels a sudden sense of strong camaraderie with this stranger.

“I was just gonna say that if you really can’t stand the party, then I’m allowing you an out. If you can stay there for at least two hours, then you can leave once you’ve––“

You hardly get to finish your sentence when Yoongi cuts you off, a strangled sob of relief escaping his throat. “Oh, thank you, my goddess! You are truly the apple of my eye; I shalt never speak ill of you no longer! You are heaven incarnate, my fair and beautiful mistress, the sun who has chased away the darkness––“

“Shut the fuck up, court jester,” you say, endearment dripping like honey off of your words. But Yoongi is already smiling ear to ear, hopelessly warm for some reason. If Hoseok had been around, he would have gagged at the sight of the two of you.

We’re so whipped, Yoongi thinks idly to himself.

“Now go say hello to Jungkook for me, will you? And please, if either he or Jimin do anything stupid or illegal, try to hold them back a little, okay?”

“Nope, I don’t think so,” Yoongi says, before promptly hanging up. Before he pockets his phone, he texts a short “ily” just in case he actually might have pissed you off. Either way, that will be a problem for future Yoongi to figure out.

Just as he ended the calls, a muffled crash and what sounds like a hyena being forced down a trash compactor from inside the restaurant echoes ominously through the open streets. Yoongi and the hostess hardly flinch at the cacophany, both of them staring glassily at the smoggy South Korean sky with quiet acquiescence.

“Fuck me,” Yoongi says. “Fuck me, indeed.”

*.*.*.*.*

The party is as terrible as Yoongi had imagined. Scratch that––Yoongi doesn’t think his imagination is capable of conjuring such a nightmarish scene. He’s pretty sure at least 99% of the inhabitants of this strip club were doing something slightly to moderately illegal. Case in point:

“Jeon Jungkook, I don’t think you should be doing that,” Yoongi yells over the discordant noise that the DJ is trying to pass off as “music.” Jungkook pauses in his ministrations to turn to face Yoongi, which is a feat in itself, as it appears that Jungkook’s eyes were facing opposite directions. Yoongi chooses to maintain eye contact with his left one.

“Whaaa? Why not, coconut?” Jungkook giggles at his little rhyme at the end, but his laughter sounds garbled, probably hindered by the amount of saliva pooling inside his mouth.

Yoongi points at his hands. “Jungkook. I’m pretty sure that is not salt that you are pouring over your fries.”

It takes a few moments for Jungkook to register anything that Yoongi had said. In fact, Yoongi doesn’t think he registers them at all; Yoongi has to forcefully take away the soiled plate of “mystery powder fries” away from him before Jungkook even realizes anything is going on.

“Heeeey, getchur own food, boomer!” Jungkook whines, making grabby hands at the plate before flopping pathetically onto Yoongi’s lap. Yoongi, ever the gentleman, pushes the younger off until he tumbles off the side of the booth and into a mysterious puddle spilled by one of the scantily clad “mechanics.” Jungkook, to his credit, gets up back onto his seat with some semblance of grace (which is to say, he managed to get his ass onto the couch without any additional injury.)

“I can’t believe I’m literally at a glorified children’s party. And I thought babysitting Namjoon’s little demon was bad enough,” Yoongi groans, grimacing in disgust at the mystery liquid from the floor oozes gently down the side of Jungkook’s face. “Dude. Wipe your fucking face.”

Jungkook, known laundry-fanatic and clean freak extraordinaire, promptly takes off his pristine white shirt and uses it to dab his face away. After which, he throws it somewhere behind him, right into a circle of twinks who proceed to fight over who gets to keep it. “Better,” he mutters, same dopey smile on his face.

“Just 1 hour, 18 minutes and 34 seconds left, Yoongi… I can do this,” Yoongi says through clenched teeth. He takes a deep breath, counts to ten, tries to remember what his therapist told him to do when he’s slowly losing his grip on reality. Then, Jungkook throws up all over his new leather shoes.

“Hyung,” Jungkook mutters sleepily, head lolling like he’s about to drop dead in a second. He grins dopily at Yoongi, a string of saliva dripping down the side of his cheek. “I think I’m sick.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” And so, like the kind person that he is, he drags Jungkook by the armpits, dodging sweaty strippers and drunken guests alike as he tows the younger to the nearby restroom. Yoongi contemplates bringing Jungkook to Jimin to take care of him instead, but that idea is completely dashed the moment he sees the latter drinking shots as if it were water. The risk of having two people vomit on his shoes in one night would have been extremely high, and Yoongi isn’t an idiot. So he takes the idiot draped across his back to the toilet himself.

The restroom is empty when they arrive. When Yoongi slams the door shut, it becomes shockingly quiet as the noise from outside gets dulled to a soft throb. Yoongi immediately dumps Jungkook against one of the chipped porcelain sinks, grimacing slightly when the younger causes the sink to groan precariously from his weight.

“Hyungie,” Jungkook warbles. The sweat on his brow has made his bangs stick to his forehead in strange patterns, and Yoongi imagines he could rearrange his hair to spell out “SHITHEAD” if he so desired.

“What.” Yoongi grabs a handful of paper towels and proceeds to try (and fail) to clean the carnage on his shoes. Meanwhile, Jungkook just stands there quietly, spit long since dried on his face, adding to the sheen already there. The quietness of the restroom is both jarring and awkward compared to the insanity just behind the door, and Yoongi finds himself preferring to look at his black-turned-brown shoes instead of the boy standing just to his right.

“I think I overdid it,” Jungkook admits after a while. Yoongi chances a glance upwards before looking back down at the floor, uncomfortable when he sees the surprisingly sober face of a man who had just finished drinking ten tequila shots.

“You think?” Yoongi snorts, rolling his eyes. He inches forward towards the sink, gently nudging Jungkook out of the way to wash his hands. Jungkook has still yet made a move towards the faucet himself, but Yoongi isn’t about to offer to clean him up either. He’s already a Samaritan for bringing him to the restroom; he’s used up all his empathy points for today.

“Y/N and Tae always say that I have severely low impulse control.”

True to form, Yoongi’s traitorous ears perk up at the mention of your name, and he finally makes full eye contact with Jungkook through the mirror. “It took two people and ten tequila shots to figure it out? Geez. No wonder you almost didn’t graduate kindergarten.”

“Hey, I told you that in confidence,” Jungkook pouts.

“Not my problem,” Yoongi retorts, indifferent. Yoongi stares at him for a moment. “Jesus. You look like a fucking mess. You sure you’re getting married next week?”

“I’m pretty sure, unless Taehyung changes his mind,” Jungkook shrugs. Well, that was certainly not quite the answer Yoongi was expecting. Yoongi must not have been quick enough to hide his surprise because Jungkook laughs coldly, the sound mirthless and paper-thin––not at all like the ridiculously mirthful manchild he’s always known him to be.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet?” Yoongi had meant to say it like a joke, but his harsh tone doesn’t escape his own ears. God, he wishes he was better at this, but sue him for lacking practice at consoling other human beings.

Luckily, Jungkook takes it in stride, shrugging his shoulders. “Not really. More like… I’m in disbelief? That he’d actually… after all this time…”

Yoongi doesn’t reply at first. For as long as Yoongi has known him, the elder has never quite connected with Jungkook, for whatever reason. Hearing him speak so candidly about his feelings like this is new territory for Yoongi, and it’s strangely making him nervous. He feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention as he is faced with a side of Jungkook that Yoongi didn’t think he was capable of having. Sure, you’ve told him vaguely about the problems that Jungkook has asked advice about, but never has Yoongi ever thought that he’d be doing the same. The two of them just weren’t… like that.

“I’m sure Taehyung likes––no, loves you. A lot. Anyone with eyes can see that he absolutely adores you,” Yoongi says after a while, coughing awkwardly into his fist. God, he sucks at this. Where are you when he needs you? You always knew what to say in moments like this.

Jungkook laughs again, and it’s just as discordant as the first. He shakes his head, empty smile on his lips. “It’s not that. I don’t doubt him in the slightest. It’s more like… I’m doubting myself.”

Now that catches Yoongi’s attention. Self-doubt, loneliness, fear: if Yoongi had to be an expert on anything, it would be for those three. He… he gets it. “Jungkook, if this is about feeling like you don’t deserve him, then you’re dead wrong. You’re allowed to be loved, Jungkook. Believe me, I know more than anyone what denial feels like. The two of you aren’t going to crash and burn, okay? You’ll be fine.”

Jungkook smiles wryly at that. “Thanks. But it’s not… it’s not that.” Jungkook pauses, and it looks like the words get caught in his throat. He opens his mouth, closes it. Grimaces like he’s swallowed something bitter. He takes a deep breath, looking as uncomfortable as Yoongi feels. “Yoongi-hyung, I have a confession to make.”

Now Yoongi’s confused. “What?”

“I haven’t been… candid. With you. About…” Jungkook takes another shaky breath. “About me and Y/N.”

Yoongi’s blood runs cold. He feels the sweat start to form across his palms, and he clenches them into fists to stop them from shaking. He can almost sense the disaster before it even hits, feels the floor swimming underneath his feet, waiting to devour him whole.

“What?” Yoongi repeats.

“I’ve been thinking about it, recently. It’s been years since I last even remembered it, but then it started plaguing my dreams, and it’s… It’s ruining me. I need––I need to come clean or else I might die with regret,” Jungkook says. Yoongi still doesn’t understand what he means; Jungkook is just saying words without saying anything at all, and it’s making the wait even more terrible.

“Kook, just spit it out already.”

“Hyung, I beg of you. Please don’t think badly of me but…” Jungkook slumps to the floor just then, both the sink and his legs unable to keep him up any longer. Against his will, Yoongi tumbles with him, compelled to follow him down.

“What? What? What?”

“I kissed her,” Jungkook murmurs, voice low. Whispered like a secret. Because it is a secret, even though it isn’t any longer. Not when the words have crawled out his mouth and into Yoongi’s ears, making its way to his brain where it refuses to be understood, to be processed.

“What?” Yoongi can’t seem to remember how to breathe, much less how to speak. He can’t say anything else except, “What?”

“N-not recently. A long time ago,” Jungkook hurries, fear crossing his face when he realizes how he must have sounded. “I would never cheat on––Y/N would never cheat on you––“

His words do nothing to quell the thunderous beating in Yoongi’s chest. He can only stare as the younger jumbles over his words, fat tears starting to dribble out of his eyes like waterfalls. Why is he crying? This is so wrong.

“We––when you broke her heart, all those years ago. Before she ran away to Daegu––“

Yoongi remembers. Of course he does. He doesn’t think he can ever forget.

“––she was so so sad, and it fucking hurt. It hurt seeing her like that, you know? I… I hated you for it. So much, hyung,” Jungkook sobs, hiding behind his hands. He wipes at his face, smearing his sweat, tears, and vomit with shaky movements. “And then she kissed me but it was a mistake because she was heartbroken and she just wanted to feel––to feel something? I don’t know… And then I pushed her away––“

“You pushed her away?” Yoongi interrupts, uncharacteristically calm. He thinks like he should be screaming, maybe. Or feel jealous, even. But then again, this had happened years ago, when you and he hadn’t even been… anything, at the time. Hell, he has no right to be hurt by this. He shouldn’t even be allowed to resent Jungkook for it. Shouldn’t have to feel like he won’t be able to forgive Jungkook. So then why is he..?

Jungkook nods. “I-I did, but that’s not… the whole thing. For a while, I thought that maybe…” He curls into himself, bowing his head in shame. Yoongi doesn’t need to hear the rest to know what he was about to say.

“You used to love her, didn’t you?”

Jungkook nods again, ashamed. Disgusted with himself. “Pathetic, right?”

But the thing is, Yoongi already knew this. You’ve told him about Jungkook’s misplaced affections for you; it had happened during a stressful time for the both of you, and you had assured Jungkook that his feelings were just a figment of his imagination. You believed that Jungkook had just been lonely, desperate for someone to cling onto especially after all that drama between Taehyung and Hoseok at the time.

“She kept telling me that I wasn’t in love with her. And for a while, I believed her. But then, when she was about to leave for America, we… we kissed again. Just to… I wanted to make sure,” Jungkook slams his fist onto the dirty restroom floor, clawing at the tiles like an animal in pain. It’s getting harder for Yoongi to understand Jungkook through his sobs, but he is afraid of even moving lest Jungkook stops speaking. It’s like watching a car crash––no matter how much Yoongi is afraid, he can’t look away.

“When we kissed the second time... She laughed. I laughed. ‘No spark,’ was what she said. I agreed because I had no other choice but to,” Jungkook admits. He exhales like his chest has been ripped open, like he’s drowning. Yoongi feels the same way.

“It would be unfair if I said anything. To her, to you, to Taehyung… but most of all, to myself. Because it would never work. It’s not… I’m not...” Jungkook coughs, trailing off. He hacks his lungs out, forehead banging against his knees from the force. He heaves for air once, twice. Then, silence.

“Jungkook?” Yoongi whispers, momentarily stunned. When the younger doesn’t reply, he nudges his shoulder. No movement. Yoongi tilts his head upwards, only to find Jungkook’s eyelids already closed and breathing steadily through his nose. The bastard had finally passed out.

“Jesus,” Yoongi sighs, letting go of the younger and letting him crumple to the floor. Yoongi contemplates passing out as well. “Jesus,” Yoongi repeats.

He sits there in silence for a while, accompanied only by his thoughts and the muffled sounds of the party outside. He doesn’t know how long he sits there for, only thinks to leave the restroom when a young couple (Jungkook’s college friends) burst in while making out, both incognizant of the odd pair slumped on the floor.

Yoongi leaves Jungkook there, but not before sending a short text to Jimin to go check on Jungkook, and sending another one to Taehyung for good measure. Yoongi rushes out of the club without looking back, feeling slightly more empty than he had before the night started.

You don’t comment when Yoongi comes back home earlier than expected. You don’t even scold him for breaking his side in the agreement. Wrapped up in blankets in front of the TV, you wordlessly open up your cocoon to let him slither in beside you, allowing him to wrap his cold feet against your legs. You don’t even complain when he falls asleep without another word, just gently caressing his hair as he descends into fitful dreams. He doesn’t bring up the party the next day, and neither do you.

The following week, the two of you attend Taehyung and Jungkook’s wedding.

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