#unknown fluff

[promisingyounglady]

accident. | JP x Reader

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Wife!Reader

SYNOPSIS: we all make accidents. javier forgetting to pick you up at the train station was an accident. you forgetting to bring an umbrella was an accident. throwing a knife at your husband? you’re going to have prove that one was an accident to him.

WC: 3.6k

WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, mentions of weapons and knives, reader throws a knife at javier *just read you’ll find out*, implied age gap, established relationship, javier is a bit older than reader, domestic au, slight dom!javi, mentions of food and cooking, profanity, bratty!reader, reader is mean but javier can be meaner, floor sex, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, handcuffs, cum eating, brief oral (f recieving), slight non-con, rough sex, praise, degradation, post-sex sweetness, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE: obsessed and mentally ill. so here’s slightly dom!javi with a ton of angst

A headache ensues in Javier’s mind.

He tries to combat it with the clouds of smoke rising through the air, the comfortable scent of tobacco and cigarettes filling his nose as he takes a drag from the stick perched in between his blistered fingers, this inhale, longer than the last.

Today had been shit. It really had. All day he had been cooped up in the office with stacks of paperwork almost taller than himself, tossed onto him and Murphy's desk by the higher ups, a high demand for deadlines with their patience being low.

Javier had been sitting in his office for almost seven hours straight, looking at papers with tiny writing and filing reports with pen until sensitive pink blisters formed around a hand that should’ve been driving and carrying a gun today, out in the field on a mission another team had instead been tasked with.

He’s getting old for this stuff, and he knows its true when he feels a strain in his back from shifting in his seat.

Maybe that’s why they shoved the paperwork in the old man’s hands.

Javier leans forward, grabbing his almost empty pack of cigarettes from his desk, deciding a fourth one was necessary for tonight.

“Javier,” a voice calls for him, looking up when he sees the new secretary holding the phone facing her chest. “You’ve got a call”

“From who” he says gruffly, brows furrowed. He lights the cigarette with his lighter, tossing it onto his desk and taking another puff.

“It’s your wife,” The secretary states. “she’s asking what you want for dinner.”

Javier stops in the middle of flicking the ashes, letting the cigarette sit warm in his fingers when he turns his head so he could see her correctly.

Your sweet voice calls out through the receiver, a chill running down Javier's spine when he makes out that it really is you.

“Yeah, Sherry, it’s fine if he’s busy, just let him know I called. Tell him dinner’ll be late tonight, at around 10.” you piped up sweetly, saying goodbye to your husband's secretary before hanging up the call.

She leaves after telling him what he already heard, but Javier is quick to immediately put out the burning cigarette and quickly grab his coat, making his way out the office.

“Peña, Where are you going? We only got a few more stacks left” Murphy calls out, hair in a mess from the many stressful tugs and his own cigarette nestled in between his fingers.

“my wife.” Javier replies, suddenly not liking the bitter taste in his mouth.

“It’s raining outside, you’re gonna get drenched” the blonde tells him, shaking his head as he took a drag from his own cancer stick.

Javier stops in his tracks, looking outside the window to see his partner was right. It was pouring out there, hardly able to even make out the cars in the parking lot.

Him getting wet was the least of his worries. It was you, he was thinking of.

“Fucking hell.”

_

You set the receiver down on the living room table. The ticking of the clock resonating in the silent house before a sigh finally escaping your lips.

Droplets of rain water cloud your vision, cheeks pink from the cold as water dripped onto your wooden floorboards.

Fists clench and unclench around the handle of the umbrella given to you by an old lady at the train station.

“A girl like yourself shouldn’t be alone in the rain, mija” she insisted, letting you take her frilly umbrella as her son would pick her up shortly.

Javier was supposed to pick you up too.

But after forty minutes of standing out in the rainy weather under a flimsy roof as you waited for his truck to pick you up, you disappointedly caught a taxi and drove home by yourself

You were returning from your visit to your sick grandmother. You were her only granddaughter who she called the week prior, telling you how she missed you and wanted you to visit.

Javier insisted you went, not wanting to hold you back and assured he would come to pick you up at the station after the weekend spent with her.

What a fucking liar, you thought to yourself.

You quickly undressed your wet clothes, the outcome of having to have walked in rain to find an available taxi this evening.

You're curious to see the look on Javier’s face when you make him beg on his knees and ask for forgiveness. Maybe you wouldn’t even kiss him tonight, thinking in silence as you prepared for dinner.

You definitely weren’t trying to think about what an excellent opportunity this was to be a brat.

—

Javier parks into his quiet drive way exactly thirty minutes before 10. That’s thirty minutes of trying to get on your good graces and pray that he wouldn’t be sleeping outside tonight.

When he opens the door to the house, his heart beats fast. Prepared to see you ready to lash out at him, he’s instead surprised with the aromas of spices and your homemade cooking wafting to his nose, unconsciously realizing that he skipped lunch today from how caught up he was with work.

Picking up your wet jacket from the floor, Javier slots his keys and sunglasses in the bowl by the entrance, hanging his own jacket as well before he makes his way quietly to the glowing kitchen.

The stovepot is on a low boil, and he sees you in a long t-shirt, one that you made sure wasn’t his. Your hair is damp, probably from a shower as you swiftly work your hands away in prepping the vegetables.

Javier mumbles quietly in a gruff voice. “You, uh, left your coat on the floor.”

Thwack.

An aggressive chop at the carrots replaces your words, each cut piercing louder like a gunshot ringing in his ears.

“Hermosa, I am so sorry.“ Javier begins sighing because he knows he fucked up real bad this time.

Thwack. You moved onto the chicken meat.

“There’s no excuse baby, I wasn’t keeping track after being cooped up in the office today.” he sighs, brows furrowing as big brown eyes stared into your back.

Thwack. Thwack.

The DEA agent flinches at the sound of the raw chicken being butchered by your swift, angry hands. You’re not facing Javier directly and yet he can already see your glaring eyes. He sighs, not wanting to fight you. He tries to lighten the mood, voice soft as he comments.

“Qué te ha hecho ese pobre pollo”

You don’t reply, let alone acknowledge your husband, continuing to brutally dice the chicken on the cutting board before turning around to wash your hands.

Javier watches you swiftly work in your kitchen, feeling sorry as he still watches you prepare dinner for the two of you after such a long train ride.

He moves forward, rolling his sleeves as he tries to help you . “Querida, I’ll help with the pot-”

The clang of the knife hitting the cutting board echoes in the kitchen, finally looking up to face your husband. Javier leans back, resting against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and gun holsters unremoved after coming home.

You try to ignore how tired he genuinely looks, reminding yourself you were just the same when standing all alone for that one hour.

“Y’know what Javier?” You begin, eyes watering and nose twitching in anger. Javier stays silent, staring at you with sincerity.

“Fuck you” you spit, pointing an accusing finger at the man. “fuck you and your fucking DEA work, Javier”

“Mi-”

“I had to wait forty minutes outside in rainy weather, trying to see if every car passing by would be yours.” you said, voice breaking towards the end. You felt uncomfortable waiting by yourself.

Javier shuts his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he tries to calm you down. He draws your name out in a firm but gentle tone.

You ignore him, replacing his words with your attitude. “You always do this!” you exclaim, voice rising.

“Leaving your wife and family second while you think it’s cool to go and chase criminals while risking your goddamn life.” You mutter, glaring at your husband.

“I didn’t want to leave you at the station all alone, honey. I’ve been sitting at my desk since afternoon drowning in paperwork the higher-ups dumped on us” he presses, eyes sincere but patience wearing thin.

You scoff, shaking your head. “So even stupid paperwork makes you forget your wife.”

Javier pinches his nose bridge, his head pounding as he tries to communicate with you.

You go back to cutting your vegetables, mumbling under your breath. “Who the fuck in Bogotá is giving you credit for slaving away all day trying to catch Escobar, hm?”

The words pierce through Javier’s heart.

Your eyes light up in fake sarcasm. “Oh, I bet it’s the fact that you’re too busy being a fucking doormat to all the younger agents at work aren’t you? What, Murphy said he can’t do his share of the work so he gave you his leftovers?” You spit.

“Hey," Javier snapped, gruffly and darkly. He looked at you, eyes narrowed and dark. "Stop it. I've told you."

Anger gets the best of you as you turn to the cutting board. Grabbing the first thing you saw.

A carrot piece shoots in his way. Javier flinches, the food hitting his chest. Your husband stands there, stunned at his wife’s childish behavior.

“Go fuck yourself, Peña” you say menacingly.

“We don’t throw food in this house, mama” he barks, hands on the hips of his belt, gun and badge tucked in his back. He would never use them on you.

A celery stick slaps Javier in the face this time, making his patience hanging on by a thread even thinner.

Maybe he could whip out the handcuffs.

“Dont you fucking call me that!” you said spitefully, throwing anything and everything you could at the man who dodged your attacks.

“Querida!” Javier raises his voice at you, a growl in his words.

You felt the cold, hard material in your hands for a split second before you’re throwing it at him, almost wondering yourself why you were getting so angry at Javier.

You didn’t want to fight this bad, but at the same time you were sick of watching him work himself to death, forgetting about you. This wasn’t the first time he did something like this.

But you already crossed that line. You both stand in silence, holding your breath as you realized what you threw.

Now it was your turn to fuck things up.

Javier’s lip snarls and his mustache is in a scary frown when he shifts his head.

Only a few inches beside his face lands a dull potato knife, wedged in the kitchen cupboards above. It wouldn’t have worked on anything since it was unsharpened and unused, but the tremendous force you had thrown it with allowed it to have been lodged in the wood.

You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth.

You both watch Javier slowly raise his hand, pulling the knife inches beside his head with ease before tossing it into the sink. The clatter of the metal blade hitting the sink rings in the kitchen. A swarm of guilt fills your chest as you stand still in fear.

“Javi… I-I’m so sorry” you say, heart beating against your chest, cautiously awaiting a reaction from him.

Javier dusts off the carrot peels on his shoulder, watching as his jaw tenses but shoulders relax.

“Come here.” he all but says quietly. You see Javier reaching for his back pocket, taking out his gun and badge and placing it on the counter.

That wasn’t what scared you.

What scared you was then seeing Javier pull out the silver handcuffs lodged in his back pocket. Your eyes widened at the sight of him playing around with them.

“Javi, I’ll go get the-“

“Come. Here.” Javier cuts you off, staring at you with dark eyes.

You swiftly shake your head, refusing to go. “It was an accident!” You exclaimed, dashing out the kitchen as you tried to escape Javier who was hot on your heels.

“Honey.” he says in a not so endearing way, a warning edge to his voice.

Tears littered your cheeks, knowing that you pushed Javier’s limits and that he would really punish you for how bratty you had been tonight.

You gasp, running up the stairs before strong arms encaged your frame, desperately trying to escape before shrieking in surprise as Javier hoisted you over his shoulder, a loud and painful smack being brought down to your ass by his strong hands. You grimaced, helplessly being brought to the kitchen in swift strides.

”It was an accident, I’m sorry, I was just so angry!” You wailed, groaning as your back hit the carpeted floors of your living room. Your vision was hazy, the dizziness getting to you as you saw Javier leave the room into the kitchen, and come back a few moments later. This time, he was unbuttoning his shirt, his forest of chest hair and strong muscles peeking through.

Javier took a deep breath, eying the way your t-shirt had hiked all the way up so your panties were showing. Your hair spread around your head like a halo, and he noticed how you clenched your thighs together in vulnerability.

“Some accidents need to be punished, baby” he muttered darkly.

You sobbed softly, nose red as you turned your head to the side, looking away from Javi’s menacing look. He didn’t mind, he knew once he was done messing with you, you would be clawing at his chest, begging him to fuck you properly while looking into his eyes. Javier leans down at your level, crawling on your body so he was on top and you were trapped on the bottom. He rips your t-shirt off of you, leaving you in your bare state with panties flimsy enough he could rip them with his teeth. Not today though, he had other things in mind.

He coos at your weak state, dropping his head so he could press a kiss to your sensitive neck, giving a small nip that made you yelp. Two large hands come to play with your nipples, pulling each one hard in between his fingers as you moaned hysterically.

“What did I say about being fucking mean?” He says roughly. He inhales your scent, smelling a sweet sense of fear.

“Carino,” a warm voice calls out, you can feel the grin spreading on Javier’s face. You cry in a mix of pain and pleasure when he flips you on your tummy, cheek pressing against the rough carpet material as Javier slots his hard member encased in his jeans, right by the curve of your ass.

“Answer me, mama”

A clinking of metal makes you cry out in protest. No, you wanted to say, feeling Javier cuff you behind your back like you were one of his petty drug thiefs. But a slap to your ass cheek makes you gasp, eyes shutting as Javier pulls your panties off.

”Being mean gets me punished” you responded softly, a pool of desire aching in your folds as you almost tutted your ass up to show him you were ready. ���I’m sorry, Javier” you sniffled quietly, hoping he would hear.

Javier laughs, cocking his head to the side as one hand groped the flesh of your bum, and the other undid his belt buckle. The sound makes your mouth water, wondering if he’ll let you suck him off too for forgiveness.

“So you do know how to be nice?” He groans, giving you no time before his hard members penetrates your entrance, head turning back and eyes rolling when you clenched around his dick so well. “Javier!” You screamed, eyes rolling back in pleasure from the strong stretch.

Your arms ached, desperate for release so you could brace yourself against the floor for every hard thrust your husband would give you.

“Listen carefully, querida” he moans into your ear, humping you as you moaned loudly. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fill you up, alright?” When there was no answer, he slapped your cheek again, this time echoing throughout the living room and leaving a red splotch on your ass. “Answer me.” He growled, patience growing thin from your pathetic wailing.

You grit your teeth, hating the fact that you were supposed to be mad at Javier for forgetting about you, and yet here you were receiving back shots with a stinging red ass.

”Yes, Javier” you said back, feeling his girth stretch your walls.

”Good. And once I’m done fucking my pretty wife, you’re gonna suck me off like you mean it. That sounds good mi amor?”

You nodded in return, eyes shut and panting like a slut from the feeling of Javier slowing down his thrusts, deepening every stroke.

“Yes, Javier” you repeated.

He smiled, kissing your neck sweetly, contrasting his hip movements. “Thank you, mama” he replied, cherishing your sweet moans and gasps as he went at a deeper, harder pace.

It’s delirious, the whole situation. You feel as though you’re on cloud nine with the way Javier is so possessive of you, caging you like a butterfly in his garden with the apple of desire.

You felt sinful. You felt glorious. You needed his release to fill you up so badly.

“Javi…” you muttered, tits starting to get carpet burn from being fucked against the ground.

“I know mama, you’re doing so good for me. Taking your lesson so well” he groans, sweat beading at his forehead.

You were aching and begging for orgasm, but feeling Javier rut into you so passionately made it all worth it. It dissolved any anger, any resentment from earlier because you knew how good he could take care of you.

“You’re so fucking mean sometimes, you know that?” he tells you, brows furrowed and concentrated on fucking the daylights out of you. You could feel the handprints marking your hips, wondering how many of Javier’s marks would be on you tomorrow morning.

“I know” you sigh, feeling a slap come down on your ass as you groan louder.

“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, you know that too?” you pant, squirming under your cuffs. Javier shudders, your walls sucking him a little too well.

“I know.” He says back gruffly.

Javier feels the knot untying in his stomach, too late to tell you verbally as you felt his warm seed leak inside, cumming first.

“Merida”

You were also close, loving how despite already coming, Javier was fucking you so that you could cum too.

”I’m gonna” you pant, forgetting to finish your words as you felt hot liquid threatening to spill from every stroke he made in your hole.

Javier whispers, pressing ticklish kisses from his mustache to your bare shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby, you know what to do” he muttered, both of you groaning loudly as both your releases became mixed inside you.

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you scream, hair a mess and pussy aching.

You feel dizzy, used but happy, shivering as a large sludge of your cum spills out and drips down your thigh to the carpet.

Javier is quick to lap you up with his tongue, slotting his face in your ass as he filthily cleans you up.

“Can you get these off me, please?” you ask him meekly, relishing the feeling of your sensitive wrists when they touch the cool air.

Your husband presses a kiss to each one, marking your ass and shoulders with playful hickeys and bruises.

You both catch your breath for a moment, Javier turning you over so you were facing the ceiling, your sensitive tits perking up.

It’s all so sudden but before you two realize it, you’re latching onto each other immediately, hungrily sharing a kiss as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Hermosa,” he tries to begin, before being shushed by you, pulling him back in to lovingly kiss your husband.

Sure, rough sex was great, but god did you love just kissing Javier absentmindedly. You had to touch each other, kiss each other, that was how you two made up.

“Lo siento, hermosa” he sighs, wanting to get lost in your embrace. You smile, knowing that Javier is sincere. “Me too.” You reply, voices hushed as it was now later in the night, the neighbors probably aware of what had happened next door. A moment passes.

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to suck you off?” you asked innocently, gazing up at Javier as your head rested on his chest.

He grins, softly whispering a later as he played with your hair, cock soft against his thigh as your leg nudges it playfully.

He growls, nipping your ear. “Behave” he says firmly, cheeks rosy. This time you listen.

“Who picked you up today then if I didn’t come?” Javi asks, reaching over to wrap a blanket around you two near the fireplace.

You smile, knowing that you can’t always listen to Javier’s warnings. “Just some cute young taxi driver. Asked me for my number y’know” you grinned.

Javier looks down, eyes darkening as he mutters softly. “Unless you’re gonna be a brat again, you better watch yourself” he reaches for your mound, cupping you softly so you moan in pleasure, still sensitive from the previous activities. He hoists you above his stomach, feeling your nails scratch his pudge and bend down as you give him a kiss. “I’m just messing with you” you giggle, a familiar feeling coming back when his bare cock is nestled by your thighs. “He was old. A grandpapi” you said, feeling his hands roam the flesh of your ass.

You press a hand against Javier’s chest, giggling as you peck his jawline. He rolls his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist instinctively.

“I missed you.” he mutters, feeling you up.

You smile, remembering how warm it is on top of your husband before you shut your eyes softly.“Me too.”

You look up, apologizing to him. “Sorry for almost stabbing you with that knife”

You feel the vibrations and sounds of a loud chuckle, Javier holding on to you. “It was an accident” you mumble, circling shapes on his skin. He knows.

You make up for it by leaning in, pressing kisses under the shell of his ear. Whispering how you’ll let him stuff his cock in your mouth again to get even.

Fuck it, he thinks. He’d let you kill him anyday.

[tteokdoroki]

JOCK BOYFRIEND YUUJI 🫂🫂🫂 i'm very quiet at uni and work so ive definitely heard the things said about reader in your yuuji fic. sometimes i feel like i'm not at the age that i can be shy anymore but it's not really something you can change so quickly. he's so so sweet and reassuring i'd definitely cry.

ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #2. shyness.

no because i’ve definitely felt this myself. i’m super introverted and find it hard to speak up in conversations - but i think yuuji would always be interested in what you had to say?

like if you were in large group settings and people were talking about a topic you’re super passionate about - he’d recognise that instantly, just by looking at you and the way you wiggle a little in your seat, and then he’d find a way to segway you into the conversation :(

like “oh, my girlfriend loves that show. don’t you, babe?” or “she’s super into that, knows everything about it! ain’t that right gorgeous?”

and itadori is always so reassuring, always giving you a squeeze if you feel to nervous to talk — whether it’s your hand or an arm around your shoulders. he never leaves your side during big socialising events, is always quick to pick up your emotions and whether your overwhelmed or not. yuuji is so so proud whenever you do manage to speak up or end up having a good time, pressing kisses to your forehead while praising you for doing so well <3

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[thisonelikesaliens]

jt620123 ig 05.20.24

writer/producer of the show posted a 520 (i love you) special that was pure domestic fluff with Qian and Yuan babysitting their niece. big disclaimer again, not a writer but tried my best to translate the joy i got from this piece and hoped i managed to spread some of that joy to this fandom

Not yet a year old, here Xiao Xiao Bao was again at her uncles' place. Xiao Bao had become a fairly well-known celebrity in the Asian entertainment world, and San Pang would be following her whenever she had to travel for work, which meant her brothers were on for babysitting duty.

Wei Qian never thought his sister's career would take off after getting married and having a child. These days, not many female celebrities would so openly talk about their partners and children, and perhaps it was exactly because of the way Xiao Bao set herself apart from the industry norms that she garnered so much support.

Wei Qian put down the magazine after reading the exclusive interview of Xiao Bao and her family (that he noted did not include her brothers). He picked up Xiao Xiao Bao who was happily entertaining herself and complained to her about her mom.

"That interview about your mom's family should've included your uncles, right? We're way more good-looking than your dad! Here, let me see…it's a good thing you look like your mom instead of your dad."

As if to show that she did not appreciate the disrespect towards her parents, Xiao Xiao Bao began to cry.

Wei Qian tried to pacify her but her cries became louder, so he picked her up and went to prepare formula, but Xiao Xiao Bao was still crying and wouldn't take the bottle.

Utterly defeated, Wei Qian had to ask for help.

"XIAO YUAN, HOW MUCH LONGER IS YOUR CONFERENCE CALL?"

Wei Qian put the bottle on the table and decided to check Xiao Xiao Bao's diaper.

"Sorry, give me a moment. I'll call you back soon." Wei Zhi Yuan ended his call and came downstairs.

As soon as Wei Zhi Yuan appeared, Wei Qian passed a still wailing Xiao Xiao Bao over to him.

"She's not taking the bottle, I think she needs a diaper change."

Yuan checked the time, checked the diaper, then picked up the bottle to check the temperature.

"It's too hot, run it under cold water for 30 seconds." Wei Zhi Yuan instructed as he handed the bottle to Wei Qian.

Wei Qian took the bottle and went into the kitchen, grumbling under his breath about the trials and tribulations of babysitting.

Wei Zhi Yuan sat down with Xiao Xiao Bao on his lap, wiped her tears and rocked her back and forth while humming. Xiao Xiao Bao's cries turned to sniffling and eventually stopped completely, then she grabbed Wei Zhi Yuan's finger and started to put it in her mouth.

"I'm so sorry, your little uncle lost track of time, you must be hungry! Don't be mad at your aunt, he can't even take care of himself…"

"Who did you call 'aunt'?" Wei Qian said menacingly while thrusting the bottle in Yuan's face. Realizing his mistake, Yuan took the bottle and corrected, "I'm the little uncle in charge of changing diapers~you're the best BIG UNCLE in the world in charge of feeding her~"

Pacified, Wei Qian sat down next to Wei Zhi Yuan and watched him feed their niece.

"I fed Xiao Bao like this when I was a kid too, and now I can't believe I'm watching you feed her and San Pang's daughter…"

That made Wei Zhi Yuan chuckle. Wei Qian yawned, then leaned on Yuan's arm, playing absently with Xiao Xiao Bao's little feet.

After Xiao Xiao Bao finished the bottle, Wei Zhi Yuan leaned forward to put the bottle back on the table and noticed that Wei Qian had already fallen asleep, his head sliding down and nesting comfortably on his lap.

Wei Zhi Yuan burped Xiao Xiao Bao while watching Wei Qian fondly, then bent down to press a kiss on Wei Qian's forehead.

"No matter who you are, from now on we will never be apart as long as we live."

[imwritingforfun]

Unknown streamers be like part two:

Midnight fans: how does it feel to be voted the most popular streamer?

Gn Y/n: as someone who didn't really like to stream I wear the fucking badge of honor

Midnight fans: what about the rumors that you are dating gojo satoru?

Gn Y/n: who tf said that!?!

[fandomnerd9602]

Korg: and that is how a Kronan is made

Valkyrie: (upset) fascinating

Korg: what’s wrong?

Valkyrie: I wish I could hold hands with the one I love but I don’t think they’re interested

Y/N: how wouldn’t want you? You’re amazing. This persons an idiot for not liking you

Valkyrie: well I wouldn’t call them an idiot. They’re pretty smart

Y/N: then just tell them how you feel

Valkyrie: Y/N I love you

Y/N: yeah tell them like that

Korg: if I could I would face palm right now

For @konstantin609

[unknown-lab]

What is Love?

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Cheating

Have you ever once in your life, regardless if you're single or in a relationship, wondered... What love is? How do you get it? What should you do to maintain the love you're having for another person? Throughout my experience, there's one thing for sure.

Love is something that fades easily, only when you're with the wrong person.

The night of our 5th Anniversary.

Food? Done. Table? Well-prepared. Candles? All up. Dress? Gorgeous. Lights? Perfect. Everything, every single detail was not left out. Time was tick-tocking as I was admiring what I had done for the past 5 hours. For him, for us. The only flaw I'm having right now is the empty spot in front of me. It should be occupied 1 hour ago.

I waited

And waited

And waited...

Ah... It's 10 pm now. The candles are all out. The room darkened, and there were only 2 dim lights on top of me. He's a busy man, I guess he'd forgotten about this already. Alright then, there's no sign of his return, I might as well start cleaning up. Although I haven't touched anything on the table, I don't feel hungry. Maybe because I don't have the every to be hungry now.

Front door opens

I was already done with the cleaning. I turned to him, and our eyes met. He looks tired too. I don't want to stress him out further, so I just gave him a smile and turned away, walking toward our bed. It's like he could read my mind, he didn't say anything, he just went into the bathroom and took a shower.

He lies down next to me, both of us turning to the opposite side. He's still next to me, and he smells nice. The scent is different from the shampoo we have in our bathroom. I wonder where did he get it from. I was deep in thought until he broke the silence.

"Sign the papers tomorrow."

Hmm? What papers? Never mind, I'll just ask him tomorrow. I don't know why, I feel more tired than usual tonight.

Oh.

Wow.

This escalated... rather quickly... Dazai. Well, I did expect this to happen sooner or later. I was reading through the divorce papers, making nothing is missed out. Everything right now was peaceful. No quarrels, no fights, just two grown adults doing what adults should be doing.

"I was with her last night. I had been by her side for about half a year, and we're planning to make that official. Hopefully, you would understand." He broke the silence, once again. There weren't any expectations heard from his monotone voice. It's like this is just a procedure to him.

Obviously, I kept quiet. I didn't raise my head to look at him, just the files. They are the only thing I have now. I signed the papers and passed them to him. I went to pack my belongings, making sure to bring everything I had with me. While he's just there, sitting on the couch texting her.

Everything is now at the doorstep, ready to go. For the first time in so long, he showed kindness. He put my luggage into the boot. For a split second, seeing him in his suit made my heart skip a beat. How long has he not worn that? It was the one I bought for him on our 1st anniversary. And I know for sure, it's his favourite.

"You can go now, I'll deal with the papers myself. Nothing will go wrong." This is more of an assurance to himself than to me.

"Did you know what day was yesterday?" I looked at him, unfiltered words just came out of my mouth.

"Yeah. It was our 5th Anniversary." He said nonchalantly.

Out of all the things I've thought of, this was the last of all that I could possibly expect. I was expecting a no, regardless he was lying or not. The fact that he knew everything, he knew I was waiting for him, he knew he had to come back, he knew it was our anniversary. This is the trigger that is preparing to fire.

"Then why were you absent?"

"She said wanted me to stay with her."

I could imagine the girl in her sweet voice, holding his hand or hugging him tightly. Begging him to stay with her, just to ruin our moment.

Bravo. Tears formed at the corner of my eyes, slowly rolling down my cheek. Through the blurry vision, I saw a young man in his favourite suit, running towards me. He hugged me and said:

"It's alright, I'd do anything if it's for you."

[silverislander]

day 9: rivalry

vi steps back, trying not to pant too hard and wiping her forehead with her forearm. the scoreboard lights up with her name, and she turns to grin at caitlyn.

"how's that for excellent?" she wiggles her eyebrows.

caitlyn is still staring, blush a little too strong for someone who had just been standing there watching vi box for the last couple minutes. vi is finding out today just how much she likes that look on her.

"yes, i- um. excellent is a good word for it."

vi laughs, which makes caitlyn laugh, too, and they're both standing a little too close together, both a little breathless. forget the scoreboard, this is all the reward vi needs.

just being here feels like the real victory. it had taken weeks for caitlyn to earn the whole gang's trust enough to be invited to the arcade, plus nearly a month to convince grayson to let her leave the bar at all while she talked with vander. vi's been planning almost that entire time, making sure the arcade is actually kind of clean (mylo had made fun of her all the way), bribing powder to fix the machines, practicing on the bag to make sure she didn't make a fool of herself when she finally got to show off to caitlyn; it's gonna be perfect.

even better: she's finally engineered her and her girlfriend of one week some time away from their guardians, and they hadn't suspected a thing. the fact that this could be called their first real date makes vi simultaneously terrified, proud and excited, although she'd never admit it. the fact that she thinks she's finally going to get to kiss caitlyn tonight, prissy topside parents and overprotective bartenders aside, feels just the same.

and then powder asked to tag along and threw a wrench right in her perfect plans.

vi's not really sure why she asked to come. powder had made no secret of her disdain for caitlyn, and vi thought she'd made it pretty clear what kind of outing this was going to be. whatever the reason, powder had piped up to add that she wanted to come to the arcade too. mylo had been all too happy to push off his "babysitting" responsibilities, vander had been a bit too pleased that vi wasn't heading off alone, and that was that: it wasn't going to be caitlyn and vi, it was caitlyn and vi and powder.

whatever. vi loves her sister- she wouldn't have been able to say no to her anyways.

"you guys aren't going to kiss, are you?"

vi grits her teeth and reminds herself of just how much she loves her sister.

"did you win, pow?"

the original plan had involved getting caitlyn to shoot for her first, coming up with some kind of witty compliment, then going for the boxing machine because she knows she looks cool when she fights. after that, presumably, the universe would conspire to make things work out, vi would ask to kiss her goodnight before chivalrously walking her back, caitlyn would say of course, vi in that pretty voice of hers and boom, fireworks, dramatic music, they kiss and everything is great. because it's vi's life and something has to go wrong, though, the second she'd very suavely mentioned that caitlyn would be so good at the shooting game, powder had begun an aggressive campaign to hog it for the foreseeable future.

"i didn't." she's lying- vi saw the board light up, first place, same as always. "can i try again? i think i'll get it next time, so-"

"maybe we can let caitlyn try for a round?" vi tries her best to not sound like she's pleading.

"but-"

"please?"

"it's okay, vi." caitlyn smiles, and- whoa, okay, she's holding vi's hand. is her hand sweaty? her hand is definitely so sweaty. she kind of wants to die. "if powder doesn't want me taking anyone's place on the board, i completely understand."

vi's brain still isn't fully back. "but- powder's the only one on the board?"

caitlyn just shrugs and begins to gently tug her away, still smiling. powder, though, looks shocked, and then makes a face that always worries vi: she looks determined.

"you can use it."

"thank you," vi mutters in relief.

"only if you and i go head to head, though."

there's the catch.

"sorry?" caitlyn turns back to face her again, the smile gone from her face.

"i want to play against you. you're really good, right?" powder grabs one of the pistols and almost slaps it into caitlyn's free hand. "i'd love some real competition."

"powder-"

"you're on."

vi looks to caitlyn. her mouth is set the same way it is when she argues with grayson to let her stay in the bar for another hour, her head high.

whatever. the night's already gone down the tubes, and she'll still get to see caitlyn shoot. might as well let powder have some fun, too.

powder, who is not really giving off i am having fun vibes, grins with maybe a little too much teeth, starts the machine and raises her gun. next to her, caitlyn takes aim, her hands steady and eyes sharp.

it's practically a neon blur to vi. she's not sure she's ever seen the targets move this fast, let alone this many shots being fired off at once. she tries her best to keep an eye on the score, and it's close all the way up through.

she'd be lying if she said her attention wasn't too focused on her girl, though. caitlyn is in her element, calm as anything, aiming and firing and reloading like it's as easy as breathing, like there's nobody else in the room. a strand of her hair has come untucked from her ponytail, and vi wants to brush it back for her.

the bell rings, though, and the moment is over. vi checks the point total- twenty-five in the difference, someone had missed a single target- at the exact same time the bell rings.

CAIT lights up the first-place spot.

now it's vi's turn to make the same face caitlyn had earlier: jaw dropped, flushed, openly staring. "cupcake, that was..."

caitlyn blows off the muzzle of the gun and sets it down on the counter. she turns to vi, fucking winks- vi thinks yeah, she's definitely going to die tonight- and then turns to powder, holding out her hand.

"good game," she says.

powder glares, and it takes a second too long, but she does shake caitlyn's hand, and only a little too hard, too. vi is proud.

and then she says, "good game, cupcake," with the biggest, smuggest shit-eating smile. vi lunges for her with the fullest intent of dragging her out of the room and putting her in time-out, but she's too fast, and she races away into some corner or side room on her own, cackling the whole way.

vi just closes her eyes and sighs. "i am so sorry-"

caitlyn's lips are on hers before she can even finish.

fuck it, maybe tonight is perfect after all.

[thegirlwiththeblush]

It Ain't the Being Alone

Rose Tyler, Thirteenth Doctor, Tenth Doctor

Word Count: 1.57k

Fandom: Doctor Who

Song Inspiration: Unknown / Nth by Hozier

Summary: Rose Tyler runs into a couple of strangers who don't really feel like strangers.

a/n: I hope people who need closure from the Doctor and Rose find this fic; I wrote this because I would've loved to see the dynamic between Thirteen and Rose, so hopefully people enjoy my spin on it! Special thanks to my dearest @vorsdany of course for proofreading and being so generous with her encouragement!

Rose Tyler often felt like she was being watched. It wasn’t the typical feeling; it wasn’t anxiety-inducing, nor was she on her guard. It felt as if the stories from her childhood of fairy godmothers and angels watching over you were true; she felt almost protected or safeguarded. Only, she couldn’t pinpoint the source of the feeling.  

 Maybe it was the tall, gallant-looking man wearing a fez and bow tie visiting Henrik’s when she was on shift, flashing her a bright smile in passing that she felt deep in her soul. Perhaps it was the grey gentleman in the velvet waistcoat who passed her as she boarded the bus across town one day, his scowling demeanour fading when she turned toward him.  

 It could’ve been the man she ran into after leaving her mother on her way home on New Year’s, hiding in the shadows and groaning oddly. 

 “You alright, mate?” she’d asked. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself as the snow caught in her golden hair. 

 “Yeah,” he replied, not meeting her gaze.  

 “Too much to drink?” 

 He took a moment to catch his breath, before standing to his full height. In the poor lighting of the alley, she could just make out his umber trench coat and navy suit underneath. He appeared to be wearing a pair of maroon Converse high-tops; an interesting fashion choice, she thought. “Something like that.” His dark eyes settled on hers, and even in the darkness, she could sense some kind of affliction deep in them, something other than intoxication.  

 She smiled softly at him anyway. “Maybe it’s time you went home,” she suggested amiably, no ill intent in her words. 

 “Yeah,” he agreed. His eyes never left hers. 

 “Anyway,” she grinned, bending her knees and leaning forward in a friendly gesture, “happy new year!” 

 “And you.” 

 She took her leave, her scarf swaying around her legs as she began sauntering home, frowning curiously as she pondered the encounter.  

 “What year is this?” 

 She spun back round before fully processing his question. A chuckle bubbled up in her chest and she couldn’t help but let it out as she asked, “Blimey, how much have you had?”  

 He made a strangled, throaty sound, shaking his head slightly, as if to confirm that he’d had, in fact, quite a lot. Her smile faded slightly in concern. “2005, January the 1st,” she said. 

 “2005,” he repeated breathlessly, and she nodded, blinking rapidly. “Tell you what,” he continued, “I bet you’re gonna have a really great year.” 

 Her smile reappeared. “Yeah?” She couldn’t believe she was taking a random drunkard in the street seriously, but there was something incredibly inviting and reassuring about him. The grin he gave her in return, although somewhat rueful for some reason, warmed her to her core, and she looked away shyly, before turning to him once more. “See ya!” With that, she bounded across the street to her home, only looking back once she’d made it inside. He still stood there staunchly, as if frozen to the pavement. She tried to put him out of her mind as she made her way upstairs to her apartment. 

 Ever since that night, the feeling had only intensified, and while she didn’t mind it that much, it was almost impossible to ignore. 

 One day, she’d run off to Potters Field Park, flustered and bothered after a disagreement with Mickey. She couldn’t go home just yet, or her mum would end up complaining about something or other, like her favourite show not being on the telly, or Jimbo not answering her calls. Not that she minded, she just wasn’t in the headspace to be dealing with that right now.  

 She found herself a park bench facing Tower Bridge, the dew from the grass permeating through her sneakers and the cold air seeping into her bones. She sighed as she sat back and regarded the bright, cloudless sky and the world before her blankly. In her zoned-out state, she barely noticed the blonde, wiry woman approaching her softly and slowly.  

 “Hello,” she began, startling Rose out of her daze. “Mind if I sit here?” A thick Yorkshire accent imbued her words with a gentle excitement; Rose couldn’t help but think she must be a long way from home.  

 “Yes, of course,” she replied, scooting over to make more room for her. The woman’s long, periwinkle trench coat splayed out across the bench, and she scrambled not to let it encroach on Rose’s personal space. Tucking it underneath her, she made herself comfortable, sitting on her hands and drawing her mouth into a tight, straight line. They sat like this for a moment, in uneasy silence while Rose wondered why she couldn’t have found her own park bench, before she finally spoke.  

 “I wonder if I could ask you something,” she said, turning to Rose with her eyebrows furrowed. “Some advice, I suppose.” 

 Rose raised an eyebrow quizzically. “You’re asking a stranger in London for advice?”  

 “There’s something about you that makes me feel like we’re not really strangers.”  

 Rose was about to scoff at this, but she hesitated, staring back at the mysterious woman. She couldn’t help but feel as if... she was right. She couldn’t put a finger on why, but she couldn’t argue her bizarre point.  

 “Go on, then,” she finally agreed.  

 “I lost someone,” the woman continued, “many years ago. Many, many years ago.” 

 “Blimey, you don’t look like you’ve lived ‘many, many years.’” 

 The woman grinned. “Thank you. My skincare routine is out of this world.” She suppressed a giggle, as if she’d told a hilarious inside joke, and Rose blinked several times, but disregarded it.  

 Shifting awkwardly on the bench, she went on. “I can’t seem to get over it, no matter where I go or how much time passes. I can’t stop myself from going to see her, even just to know she’s okay, or to see that beautiful smile again.” She beamed proudly. “Her smile is one of the most precious things on this amazing planet.” 

 “Ah, so she’s still alive?” Rose clarified. She was struggling to keep up. 

 The woman scrunched her nose. “Well, sort of. Not really, but in a way. It depends.” 

 Rose was beginning to accept that this person was not entirely sane; how in the world did someone’s existence depend on anything? Nevertheless, shaking her head in bewilderment, she asked, “And what advice did you want to ask?” 

 The woman had been distracted by a small, round house sparrow, hopping through the grass in search of scraps, all alone. “Now I’m not sure,” she admitted, still staring at the lone bird. “I suppose just... what to do. How do I keep going with this grief weighing me down?”  

 A twinge of pity pricked Rose’s heart. “This girl really meant a lot to you,” she murmured the obvious. 

 “She was like an angel to me,” the woman concurred, biting her lip and turning her head as the sparrow bounced its way over to them.  

 “How long has it been since you last saw her?” 

 “Ah, now there’s a very difficult question to answer,” the woman laughed as she looked up, but when she met Rose’s exasperated gaze, she cleared her throat and corrected herself, looking away ashamedly. “Quite recently, actually.” 

“Don’t you think, maybe,” Rose suggested, sighing and wondering once again why she was having such a deep conversation with a stranger, “that to get over her, you need to stop seeing her? Unless you’re visiting her grave, I’m still not quite clear on whether she’s alive or not.” 

 “Let’s just go with alive.” 

 “Well, alright.” 

 The woman seemed uncomfortable from being confronted with this point. She mulled it over, grabbing an item from her pocket and rotating it between her fingers. Rose could not discern its purpose or even shape; it appeared to be a distorted shaft of metal, with a glowing amber core running through it, reaching a glowing head at one end. “I suppose you’re right,” she murmured.  

 “I know it can be hard, the loneliness and missing them and what you had,” Rose sympathised. 

 The woman’s face contorted in deliberation. She allowed herself a moment to arrange her thoughts before responding. “I don’t think it’s the being alone that’s worst. It’s more, the being unknown.” Zoning out, she pressed a small button on the hunk of metal, producing a buzzing and whirring sound that startled Rose. “Sometimes I think there are some people who are better unknown.” 

 Rose wondered whether she meant the girl she so dearly missed, or perhaps, herself.  

 The woman stood up abruptly, shoving the metallic item back inside her coat and smoothing the fabric. “Well, I shouldn’t bother you any longer,” she announced, beaming warmly at Rose. “Thank you for your help.” 

 Staring back dazedly, Rose shrugged. “It’s no problem. I hope you are, er, able to find your peace.”  

 The woman’s expression turned rueful. “Thank you,” she replied. “Me too.” 

 As she sauntered away, Rose called after her, “Wait!” 

 She turned back with a small smile and eyebrows raised, almost as if she’d hoped Rose would call her back. 

 “You never told me your name,” Rose said. 

 The woman’s smile grew into a cheeky grin, and she raised one finger to her lips. “Spoilers,” she said. With that, she turned away again and strode off, leaving Rose utterly baffled and ready to go home for a very long nap. 

[skyeconch]

Gojo Satoru, sitting in their lap : Pay attention to me!

Y/N-Chan : We were just making out two seconds ago.

Gojo Satoru, grins : I don’t see your point. 😸

[tteokdoroki]

ideal valentines gift would be a stuffed plushie ♡ can I swipe sweet on megumi ! ೀ

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. swipe sweet: mailbox.

about. boom, it’s a match! for your first valentines day apart; you send a piece of yourself back home to your boyfriend, megumi ( 0.8K ).

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters aged up to 20s, college!au long distance relationships, established relationships, afab!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event !

“did you get it?” 

“get what?” 

“my gift! that’s why i called you dummy,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. megumi can’t help but smile to himself, basking in the impatience that coats your dulcet voice as rattles down the line. “i want you to open it while we’re on the phone together.” 

a box had arrived for megumi fushiguro this morning, february fourteenth, at the precise time of eight am. the time he usually wakes up to start his day. gojo had brought him the box with a teasing smile, graciously reminding his junior of the note on top — written by your hand with a glitter pen and stuck to the box with pink washi tape. 

‘do not open until tonight.’ it had read. 

with the distance between you both, tonight would mean the morning for you — and though it wasn’t ideal, it was the only way yourself and megumi would be able to spend Valentine’s Day together. you were studying abroad for a year, leaving your boyfriend behind and despite the tears and shifty internet connection — you’d made it work so far. 

just that this year, you wouldn’t be there in person to give your broody, moody boyfriend his valentine. 

so you settle with an early-morning-late-night phone call, where you can listen to megumi open your present to him after escaping the clutches of gojo for the day. 

“you’re sweet, you know that?” megumi tells you, quiet but earnest, tucking the phone between his shoulder and his ear to keep it steady. his large hands and slender fingers dance over the taped edge of the cardboard box at the centre of his bed  — finding that little uptick of plastic to rip at and pull the whole thing open. “what is it?” 

you scoff on the other end, the sound sends shivers down megumi’s spine. he misses you. “just open it dummy, then you’ll find out.” 

pushing his tongue into his cheek, he laughs airly into the phone and your heart rate quickens in response. “watch your mouth,” the man warns you softly, with no malice or trace of a threat in his voice. your giggling overlays the sound of tearing cardboard and rustling packing paper. 

“or what? we both know that if i go quiet you’ll miss me way too much, megs.” 

“don’t get ahead of yourself —“ megumi’s end of the line goes quiet. a comfortable static crackling through your speakers as you busy yourself with other things, waiting for his reaction to your special shipment from abroad. “i thought we said no gifts.” he deflects, bringing a fond smile to your face. as stoic as he may sound, the dark haired man is grateful that you’re not with him in person. that way you can’t see the way his face crumples and his lips fight to twitch with emotion. fushiguro isn’t the type of person to admit that he misses someone, especially you. “you didn’t have to…” 

but oh does he miss you. that sense of longing hits him with the force of a tsunami, causing his knees to buckle and for him to forcefully sit down on the edge of the bed. megumi thumbs your gift to him — the very first stuffed animal he’d ever won you on one of your very first dates at the beginning of your relationship. 

it’s white fluffy ears and red checked bow tie carry your scent, as if you’d held the bear tight before sending it across oceans to fushiguro. his heart lurches at the memory of you packing the little bear to take with you because you would miss your boyfriend and his closeness.

now he’s the one missing you, and that special bear has made it back to him. 

“i didn’t,” you hum at the same time that megumi lays back on his bed — holding the soft toy to his chest. your voice stays low, uses gentle affectionate tones and he feels as though you’re right there with him. whispering your love into his ear while you jay beside him. “but i’ve been gone for half a year, so i figured you’d hold onto the little guy for me for the other half. you know, until i get back and you don’t have to miss me anymore.” 

“you’re full of yourself,” fushiguro states, nose tucked into the white fluffy fur of your teddy bear. he inhales the scent of your sugary perfume and relaxes. “‘m pretty sure you miss me more than i miss you…but, uh, thank you.” 

“thank you, megs, for waiting for me.” 

megumi closes his eyes and pictures the day you get back, and the day that he can finally return the plushie to you. “there’s not long now,” he rasps just before the clock strikes midnight for him. “happy valentine’s day, baby. i…i love you.” 

“happy valentine’s.” comes your doting whisper. “i love you right back.” 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[the-mandawhor1an]

6 months later...

TLDR: it's Zaddy's and my RP 'anniversary'; artworks; Wolke being emotional about her Tumblr experience; and a fluffy one shot/drabble at the end of the WAY TOO LONG POST

I've alluded to it before, I've commissioned some artwork of the two lovebirbs and they just so happened to get finished this week. Huge thanks to @kenobiwanx for making the two come alive 😭 I can NOT stop staring at them.

LOOK AT THEM 😭😭😭

Yes these are spoilers for upcoming events but I just 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

@zaddymandalorian Überraschung!

Back to the actual point *wipes tears off her face*

Let's set the scene...

My dearest Zaddy and I reconnected in November of 2023 as I had been on a work trip at that time and I needed someone to talk to. We'd been talking on and off for the last months, mostly smalltalk and sometimes me complaining about stuff. Worth mentioning is also that I sent her my Maia fanfic back in June. First person to read it besides myself. I've known Zaddy since spring of 2016 ish (which also means I've known her longer than my husband – fun fact) so I felt comfortable with her reading my extremely self-indulgent shit. Everyone needs friends like that ♥

We mused about the roleplays we lost to forum admins being ruthless in their inactive-thread-deletion efforts every 4 months. We had barely started a Witcher RP and I'm sure it would've been awesome if we had continued. We literally stopped 7 ish posts in so nothing had happened really. – Why was it inactive? Well I took a 14 month roleplay hiatus due to me being chronically fatigued. The joys of working a stressful job and being severly anemic. Oops.

I tested the waters and made an offhand comment about maybe giving in and asking her to plot something with me.

This is a very convincing re-enactment of what happened: (translated because we're German potaters)

Well... and that's when the fun began

I, being a total Pedro fangirlie, asked if we wanted to just take the synopsis of my fic and run with that. She agreed, I was happy, she was happy.

So it's been 6 months.

OH. MY. GOD.

I did not think I had it in me to be consistently posting daily for 6 months. We've laughed, we've cried, we've lost sleep over it. We've grinned into our phone screens like maniacs at work and luckily no one asked

And now, 260k words later, I'm still in love with the babies. In fact I'd say I love the little blorbs even more now. Maia has a face, she has outfits (multiple!) she has a family and a story (that's only about 1/3 written so whew we might make it to a million)

Of course I also love Zaddy very much (and I will keep lovebombing your ass, bitch 🖤💜)

You know what, fuck it, I'm mentioning more people. Buckle up! Wolke spreads some love!

@immarocketman for being the first person on Tumblr that I kind of clicked with because we share a love for Pedro and the color purple 💜

@roughdaysandart for 1) allowing me insight in her creative process making a Fanfic comic and b) doodling Maia basically as soon as she made an appearance in text form 💜

The moots: @thefrogdalorian @djarins-cyare @djarins-wife @pedroswife69 for interacting with me, commenting on my posts and being real cute in general 💜

Everyone that ever interacted with me on here has been nothing but friendly, I feel extremely welcome over here. Everyone who liked/reblogged or commented on my posts, thank you so much. 💕💕💕💕💕💕

Now that the sappy whining is over, who wants to read something actually interesting?

In spirit of me being overbearingly loving, I've typed up a bit of fluff from the lovesick fools™ of Clan Mudhorn. Unbeta'd.

It was early in the morning, the sun barely over the horizon and engulfing the room in warm orange light, when Din awoke, a soft and warm body nestled into his side. She let out the softest little hum when he buried his face in her hair, wrapping his arms around her to hold her close.

"Sleep," he purred into her hair, placing a kiss on her forehead when her face turned towards him. Again, with a quiet hum, she buried her face in the crook of his neck. "How am I supposed to sleep when my husband has his hands all over me?"

"I'm sorry," he apologized and gently stroked her hair. "Why are you awake anyway?" she asked, finally raising her head so her sleepy, green eyes looked into his. "Hey mesh'la," he greeted her with a smile, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. "I don't know. I guess the sun woke me up, it's too bright in here." He sighed. "I miss the hut on Nevarro, it was always dark in there." "Come on, it's not that bad here. We needed more space anyway."

She pulled away from him, rolling over so she was on her stomach, hugging the pillow underneath her to get a better look at her everything. "Is the sun too strong, my warrior king?" a grin crept onto her lips as her eyes blinked slowly. Clearly this was way too early for her liking. To be fair, last night went on for longer than anticipated. "Are the little troublemakers awake yet?" She raised her head and turned to face the door. For now it seemed peaceful and quiet in the adjacent rooms.

Knowing well she would rise from the bed to check if he didn't stop her, Din hoisted himself over her body, practically pressing her into the mattress with his body weight. "You're not getting up to check on the kids now, cyar'ika," he muttered, peppering kisses along her shoulder. A chuckle escaped her lips as she rotated her head so she could see him in her peripheral.

She was so glad the mattress was soft enough to just give in under the weight, forming a perfectly human-shaped dent to make way for her body. "Whatever you say, great Mand'alor." For just a second she could feel him grind his pelvis into her butt.

He kept on pressing kisses on her neck, her shoulders, slowly crawling down her spine, kissing every little scar he found on his descent. "You really have to stop saying it like that." "Like what?" "With the bedroom-voice." He stopped to crawl back up to her head and leaned forward, giving her the chance to look into his face. His eyes were darkened, one of his eyebrows twitching upward.

"You're insatiable," she laughed, shaking her head. He slowly lifted off of her, immediately wrapped both arms around her and pulled her onto his chest. "That's your fault, my love." His voice was warm and silky, the vibration in his chest making her shudder. "My fault?" "You're just too beautiful so I can't keep my eyes or my hands off of you for long." "Di'kut" "Gar di'kut, forever." "Forever is a long time," she said softly and ran her fingers through his hair.

"And I'll be happy to spend every minute with you. I love you so much" he took her hand in his and softly kissed her knuckles. She sighed and watched him kiss every finger, eyeing her intently. She was mesmerized by his eyes, almost hypnotized by the dark brown, with the orange light surrounding them it reminded her of embers, glowing and warm.

Forever was a long time and although it didn't feel like it, time was progressing, evident by the threads of silver that sparkled in his dark brown curls. And although she felt like she herself was showing signs of ageing, he always told her she was as beautiful as the day he met her. "I love you more, mesh'la," she replied and rested her hand on his cheek.

"You and the kids are everything to me. I would die for you," he mused, closing his eyes as her finger brushed over his beard toward his lips. Her movements halted and the dark brown eyes reopened, scanning her features for signs of her sudden stop. The small crease on her forehead was enough for him to know exactly what was troubling her.

"Look at me," he pleaded with her, cupping her cheek in one of his hands now. "I know that look on your face. I would doesn't mean I will. Stop thinking about it. I'm here and so are you." Her hand slowly retreated to rest atop of his, thumb brushing over his warm and tanned skin. "Thanks to you, I am. You've saved my life once, I hope you don't have to do it a second time." She smiled warmly and nestled her face further into his hand.

Din grumbled and pulled her face closer, peppering it with kisses wherever he could reach. "I've saved your life twice. But it doesn't matter, you've given me more than I could ever imagine. I have a family now. And the most amazing wife in the galaxy." "I love you." "Until the end of space and time."

Both flinched when they heard a noise outside the bedroom. Instantly both heads were turned to the door, listening for more noises. One of the kids must've woken up, maybe their voices were too loud.

"Any guesses?" Din asked his wife, once again burying his face in her hair. "My gut tells me it's your mini-version," she suapected, turning her head to kiss him gently. "Your gut? Or your Jedi magic?"

Din rose from the bed, stretching his muscles in the morning sun, stared at by his better half. "And you say I'm insatiable." A sly grin appeared on his lips as he put on a shirt, his shoulders and bicep stretching the fabric just enough to make her hum. "The faster you check on the troublemakers the sooner you can come back to bed. Hurry, I'm not done with you."

She didn't have to tell him twice.

Translations:

mesh'la - beautiful

cyar'ika - darling

di'kut - idiot

gar di'kut - your idiot

[unknownspecies]

[Not Shy]

[Mikey x f!Reader]

There were people who were considered shy, socially anxious, or even easily flustered. You were often mistaken for these traits, but you never thought yourself to be any of them. You were just… quiet. You never spoke, and when you did, it was usually no more than just a few words. 

Despite being visualized as an emotionally constipated girl, You really had an active social life, always hanging out with friends or playing on your sports team. You were a kind girl as well, never refusing to help out others when needed. 

However, you also knew that because of your quietness, no one really sought you out other than your close friends. Which kind of sucked, but you were fine being by yourself sometimes just as much as you liked being with other people, so it didn’t bother you that much. 

What you didn’t know was that there was someone whose eye you caught: A well known boy in the school named Mikey. Everyone knew about him, how he was a well known martial artist and how he would “claim” friends even in other schools and force them to hang out with him. Despite some rumors of him forcing friendship onto others, most knew that he was just an idiot who was trying to get to know as many people as possible. 

The reason why Mikey never really approached you, though, was because he was intimidated by you. What you weren’t aware of was that your quietness gave you an intimidating demeanor. The way you held yourself with confidence, the way you stayed quiet and listened, and the way you seemed to stare into people’s souls and analyze them was what scared him. Well… he wouldn’t consider himself “scared,” but rather… nervous. 

Luckily for him, luck came on his side. After a few months of simply observing you, you were paired up with him, and his best friend, for a science project. 

Mikey was excited to say the least. He finally got to interact with the quiet girl that he never really knew much about, and he knew about everyone. 

You sat down in one of the chairs of the three tables that were moved together. Mikey’s leg was bouncing on his feet, contemplating on what to say. “So…” He scratched the back of his neck, “I’m Mikey, but I guess you already knew that.” He mumbled the last comment. 

You smiled and nodded. You looked at the worksheet for the project outline in front of you and slid it towards Mikey and your other partner, Draken, tapping at the “Project Topic” section with your pencil while giving them a questioning look. 

Mikey straightened up, happy that he was saved by his awkwardness by the need to get this assignment done. I guess school is good for one thing. Draken decided to take the lead in the conversation, after internally cackling at Mikey’s flustered attitude. 

He leaned back, “We should do something simple, that doesn’t require much work yet gives us a good grade.” 

You tilted your head for a moment, mentally searching for topics you three could do. Mikey internally swooned, thinking that the small gesture was so cute. Wait… where did that thought come from? He shook his head, he barely even knew you and he was getting these weird ideas already. Though he wouldn’t hesitate to admit that you were pretty.

Mikey and Draken watched as you lit up and scribbled something on the paper. After a few moments, You slid the paper towards them and they read what you had written. 

How effective different cooling sleeves 

are at keeping water bottles cold.

They all looked at each other. You looked at them with an expectant look on your face. Oh how expressive you were despite speaking no words, it’s like he knew what you were saying. 

Draken nodded, “Seems simple enough. I have a beer can cooler and another thicker one back at home. I think Mikey has one as well.” He turned to his friend, “The pink one with the Hello Ki–” Mikey threw his hands onto his friends loud mouth. 

“No no! It’s not mine! It's my sister’s!” Draken pushed his hand aside. “No, it’s yours. Emma gave it to you for your birth–” Mikey shushed him loudly again. If he could kill his friend that moment he would’ve. 

You watched them with mirth in your eyes and laid your hand on Draken’s arm that was resting on the table. When their attention went to you, you nodded, and smiled. And it was at that moment that Mikey realized that you were far more than the pretty he had viewed you two minutes ago. You seemed to radiate light out of your skin and that was the moment Mikey decided to win your heart. 

Two weeks passed as they did the project. They all decided to do it at your house because it was the best option out of those three. It would’ve been Mikey’s house, but Mikey insisted that the three have it at your place because of some reason where “you have the best fridge model out of all three of us.” He didn’t know what fridge model you had, he didn’t even know fridges had models, but you didn’t care enough to question him further, and simply agreed. (This totally wasn’t a plot to get closer to you and to prevent you from meeting his sister.)

Mikey considered this time to be the best of his life. They really spent a majority of the two weeks chilling together, as they had finished the project within two days. (It was really sticking water in the fridge then checking the temperature when they were put outside with the three different cooler wraps.) 

Draken, God bless his soul, easily figured out Mikey’s small infatuation with you and proposed the idea of hanging out with you more often. You accepted, of course, happy to make new friends. And maybe, just maybe, you had also gotten a small attachment to the short blonde who, unknowingly to you, started to think the world of you. 

~~~

It all started a month later. you were close to both Mikey and Draken, and hung out with them often enough. You still hadn’t spoken much. They had heard your voice a few times already (Mikey almost fainted the first time, and the second, and the third.), but it still wasn’t common, even the average quiet person spoke a thousand times more than you. 

Draken watched as your crushes grew on each other and internally laughed, reminiscing on when he had his own crush on Emma and asked her out. Emma eventually figured out what was happening (read: Draken couldn’t hold the gossip in and spilled) and encouraged Mikey to confess to you as soon as possible.

Mikey actually decided to take the advice, and bought a small bouquet of flowers and a packet of dorayaki to confess to you when school ended. 

But God decided to take away whatever luck He had bestowed upon him. 

Right as he was about to walk up to you in dismissal, he saw a scene that made him wish he could spoon his eyes out. 

It was a boy, about your age, walking up behind you with an affectionate smile on his face. He tapped you on the shoulder and when you turned around, you squealed and jumped on him to hug him. 

The stupid, ugly, dumb haircut boy laughed and spun you around before pecking you on the top of your head and ruffling your hair. He saw as you looked up at him with a sparkle in your eye, and then you spoke. You were talking to him?! Just who was this boy? Mikey was itching to grab him by the shoulder and beat him up for taking his crush away from him. You were his, not this random stranger’s. But he stayed his hand, deciding that if you spoke to this guy and not Mikey, then obviously… he didn’t even want to finish the thought, but it came crawling out anyways. …obviously you didn’t like him like you did this boy. 

How dare he? How dare this random stranger take you away from him and kiss you on your head, defiling your hair, and walking away with you. 

The flowers fell from his hand as Draken came up behind him. Mikey frowned, sadly mumbling, “I guess she doesn’t like me then…” His best friend looked at him, it was unusual. Draken didn’t like seeing Mikey sad like this. Although he never showed it, it broke his heart to see his best friend crumble. 

It was strange, Draken thought, on how friendly you acted with the guy. Yet the affection you seemed to show this stranger was different from the affection you seemed to show Mikey. Almost like he was a close friend rather than a romantic partner. He decided to investigate. 

One week later, Draken had pulled you to the side. That one week was hell, for all you, Mikey, and Draken. 

Mikey avoided you like the plague. Thinking that the less he saw his crush, the less he would feel heartbroken. He really did like you, and it shattered his heart to see you talking to someone else. You never spoke to Mikey. It was always short answers, if there were any at all. Yeah, you always interacted with him. You laughed at him (he loved that sound), you touched him when you wanted to hug him (or smack him), you spoke through your expressions to him. Yet you never verbally spoke to him. 

You, on the other hand, were confused. Why was Mikey avoiding you? Have you done something wrong? You realized that you didn’t hang out with him this week, but you were too busy hanging out with others. But still, even when you had plans to go out with other friends, or preferred to stay home alone and have some time for yourself, Mikey never gave you an attitude like this. You yourself became upset as well. You had really liked him, and was hoping to confess to him soon… 

And Draken? Draken was wondering how to get information out of you. He was really overthinking the whole thing when a simple question would’ve fixed everything. He asked his friends in other schools about this newcomer in their lives and found out an interesting thing. Apparently he visited you often, which didn’t make the situation any better in the slightest. But the thing is that those friends claimed that he did not have a girlfriend whatsoever, which confused him greatly. 

In the end, he decided that talking to you directly was best to clear up the situation. If you were dating this guy, then what’s done is done. The best thing he would do is to help Mikey move on. But…if by chance you weren’t dating him, and he was just a close friend, then he would be more than happy to tell Mikey that you were free to date him as soon as possible. 

During lunch, he pulled you to the side. 

“Hey, I have a question to ask you.” He stared down at you, a stern look in his eyes. 

Your own widened, wondering what warranted this curt behavior from Draken. You kept staring at him, waiting for him to continue. 

Draken huffed, “The guy that you left with last week, who was he?”

You tilted your head in confusion, processing the question before it hit you. 

“My cousin.” Draken blinked. “We grew up together, so he likes to visit sometimes…” You replied quietly, staring at him as you watched the gears turn in his. 

Draken threw his head back and groaned. No wonder things weren’t adding up. This guy was your cousin, not just some rando. Not to mention he seemed like a brother to you. He rubbed his eyes, he was such an idiot. He should’ve pieced this together long ago. 

You stared up at him inquisitively, waiting for him to explain. “Um, both Mikey and I thought… that… uh… you and your cousin were dating.” Draken mumbled the last statement so softly you could barely hear it. 

…

What?

Mikey thought you were dating someone? You internally groaned. That’s why he’s been avoiding you. You thought that the way he’s been acting a month before the whole incident meant that he liked you back, and you were hoping that you hadn’t been reading too much into it. But with Draken’s unspoken confirmation you felt elated. 

You immediately turned and ran towards where you last saw Mikey: behind the school building eating his lunch. Draken stayed behind, letting you take care of the situation from here on out. 

When you saw Mikey, he was picking at his food with a sad frown on his face. He looked up at the sound, and his frown deepened when he saw that it was you. 

“Oh now you’re here? Don’t you have your boyfriend to go bother?” He hated the words he said, but it was the truth, wasn’t it?

You huffed at his pouting and bent down in front of him, hand resting on your knees as you stared into his eyes. He looked away. Mikey was too intimidated by your stare, too flustered at your beautiful eyes, too sad that you weren’t his. 

You grabbed his face with your hands and made him face you. Mikey blushed, you were so gentle, he could barely feel the pressure your hands were putting on his cheeks. 

You opened and closed your mouth like a fish, searching for the most effective way to say what you wanted to say for the past month. 

“He’s my cousin.” He stared at you in shock, barely digesting the words because he was too busy appreciating the tone of your voice. When he did process the message, though, he dropped the bit of food in his hand. 

You touched your forehead to his, “I like you, Mikey.” And he swore that he was hallucinating. You liked him? What? Since when? How did he not know this? Why was he so stupid? He should’ve just asked you. You should’ve just told him. Does Draken know? What is going on?

You giggled softly at his reaction before kissing him. You pulled away too soon for Mikey’s liking, and got up. 

Smiling at him, you said, “Let’s go to class, then get some ice cream after… We’ll let Draken pay.” You outstretched your hand, smiling wider when he took it and got up. 

Mikey then gave the biggest, toothiest grin ever. “Yeah!" He laughed loudly, "I was craving ice cream too. But…” He stared at you in the eyes, not looking away.

You looked at him in silence, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

“I’d like for it to just be me and you, please.”

[princessofxianle]

Hey remember this post???

I wanna hold on tighter thats just the way I'm wired: Chapter 1

🏹Feng Xin/reader🏹

🔞MDNI | 2.8k | fluff & eventual smut | read on ao3 | No one fucking look at me

Summary:

“Tell me everything,” he pleaded. There had never been an intimidating aura in his gaze, but his reaction to the boldness of his own words seemed to startle himself into fearing he might’ve been too forward, “Please.”

You did not answer in words. With him, you knew you didn’t need to.

You just took a step forward.

Your unfocused gaze locked forward in line with the chest of the taller man, your free arm reaching toward him, your mind screaming for your body to be embraced.

And embrace you he would. Whenever you so much as whispered for it.

or

Sometimes Feng Xin is just the only person you want to see after a long day. Luckily he really can't get enough of you.

...

You fumbled with your keys while standing outside your own apartment door. The exhaustion from your day had caught up with you as you struggled to even open the deadbolt on the door.

Eventually you made your way inside. Your apartment was simple but comforting. A wood wick candle was lit on the counter. The scent of juniper and spruce washed over you. It wrapped you in its scented tendrils, and heavily filled your lungs like a weighted blanket. A good weight. A secure weight.

And then your gaze landed on the person lounging on the couch. He hadn’t turned around yet to acknowledge your arrival, so you caught a glimpse of his profile. The sunlight leaking through the curtains caught the tips of his eyelashes and shimmered as he looked up and turned to welcome you home.

His eyes seemed to smile more than his lips as he greeted you.

His singular dimple appeared deeply on his left cheek. He didn’t have one on the right. And the shadow of that dimple made his face soft and perfect. You wanted to poke that little spot on his cheek.

Usually, it would make him laugh. To you that was a sound more beautiful than music. And then he would playfully tell you that you were silly for finding something so mundane still so adorable.

Then, when you would blush out of embarrassment for being called out, and he’d break out into an even stronger fit of laughter.

The skin between his thick eyebrows would crease above the bridge of a strong nose, nostrils subtly flaring with every gasp of breath between laughs. His eyes would smile upside down and close so tightly that small beads of tears would squeeze their way to the outer corners of his eyes like a single drop of morning dew on a small branch of apple blossoms.

Sometimes you would gently wipe away those happy tears with the soft pad of your thumb. But he would catch your hand instead, and kiss your palm, never breaking eye contact, and pulling you in with his gaze alone, like the attraction between two opposite poles.

It wasn’t a daunting gaze. It was magnetic. You couldn’t help but be drawn toward him. He was the direction in which the compass of your heart pointed. The North to your South. With one you must always have the other.

And then he’d smile.

Just like he was now.

The flex of his mild and strong jawline complimented his upturned lips.

The cut of his jaw wasn’t sharp like a knife. But rather bold like the rounded end of a stone hammer. Weathered and experienced. But far from showing any sign of decay.

His cheeks blushed as they swelled above his smile, plumping his prominent and round cheekbones. It was just like how he’d smile after kissing your hand. Except this time without the brief playful flick of a pink tongue peeking out at the corner of his lips.

Right now, there was no playful smirk.

Right now, Feng Xin just turned and smiled at you in the most genuine way a man ever could.

The most genuine way a god ever could.

Suddenly the sunlight streaming in from outside through the curtains was blocked by a cloud, and the two golden brown eyes that were smiling at you widened in cautious surprise, before he spoke.

“Meimei…” his voice trailed off, rumbling soft and low. Like the distant roll of thunder in the minutes before a storm threatened to pass over, warning the birds that something was wrong.

You were drawn from your wide-eyed and exhaustion driven trance at the sudden change in his expression. It was subtle. Only you would notice the slight tension in his jaw. You could feel the faint grind of his teeth in his mouth as he gnawed on the inside of his cheek. Something he only did when he was concerned.

He never really was able to hide that feeling very well.

Worry.

It was written everywhere across his facial features. The tightness of his jaw, to the wrinkle above his nose, to the darkness of his eyes.

Brown eyes so dark you were lost in them for a moment.

Yet before falling into them, you retracted the reach of your gaze from the man on the couch and shot it down toward the floor, keeping your eyes hidden under suddenly lowered lashes.

He noticed immediately.

You closed the door and wordlessly walked to put your things away, intentionally preventing your gaze from crossing his. After your key had finally been put away, a hand reached into your line of sight.

Not touching just…

Offering.

You had no choice but to look at him now. Frankly, you didn’t even know why you were acting this way. The person you loved most stood steps away from you. The calming touch of his skin mere inches from your own.

The intensity shown in his eyes wasn’t aggressive or even determined. It was soft. Welcoming. As if he had you tethered by an elastic band.

But, driven by habit, you resisted. Distance increasing but tension rising. You felt the space between you tighten. But when you had stretched the elastic band to its maximum, you could not fight the unbearable force it had on you anymore.

And you let go.

Everything you had been keeping tightly sealed away broke through the vault in your mind and flooded your heart.

Your eyes watered. Subtly. Enough that a fine glimmering line along your bottom lashes obstructed your vision, but no tears fell from them.

The hand he had extended toward you did not bother to stop or delay any more once he saw your face change in that moment.

The fingers of his left hand traced down from your temple and a thumb landed on your cheek. His right traced along your arm, fingers lightly grazing your skin in question.

You leaned a little toward the sensation involuntarily in answer. The warm palm of his hand made full contact and sparked on your skin at the touch. Like the clack of two magnets.

The hand on your cheek wandered until his thumb reached your lower lashes. He slowly ran the outer pad of his thumb across your damp lashes. At the wet feeling on his sensitive fingers, a faint hitch of breath stumbled from his diaphragm.

“Tell me everything,” he pleaded. There had never been an intimidating aura in his gaze, but his reaction to the boldness of his own words seemed to startle himself into fearing he might’ve been too forward, “Please.”

You did not answer in words. With him, you knew you didn’t need to.

You just took a step forward.

Your unfocused gaze locked forward in line with the chest of the taller man, your free arm reaching toward him, your mind screaming for your body to be embraced.

And embrace you he would. Whenever you so much as whispered for it.

The inaudible scream laced in the desperate reach of your arm was too heart wrenching for him to even attempt to ignore.

Swiftly his position shifted, and he swept you up into his arms, one arm supporting your knees, and the other hugging your shoulders. He nestled his face into the crook of your neck to breathe deeply, calming himself in the familiar scent of your perfume.

“What do you need?” he murmured into your neck. His voice cracked at those words, as if he couldn’t decide whether or not anything louder than a whisper would startle you. His voice was soaked in helplessness, even if it was the person in his arms, you, who was the source of that helpless feeling.

You really didn’t know how to respond to his question.

You lifted your head off him prompting him to lift his as well. You felt an expression appear on your face, and by his reaction it was likely a complicated one. He looked back at you wearing a half smile, softly upturned eyebrows, and glossy caramel milk chocolate eyes.

The concern in his gaze threatened to melt you. Yet still, your pride got the better of you. Even if you were being embarrassingly held in his arms, you convinced yourself you would remain solid.

But you leaned forward anyway. And understanding, he did the same.

Your foreheads met, like you wanted to communicate your unspoken words directly into his mind without the need for hard-to-find and difficult words.

The touch was a gentle reminder of his closeness to you and your trust in him.

For the moment, he held you there, in his arms, breathing.

He waited for your breathing to calm. Initially short and shallow, your breaths slowed and evened out as your body recognized you were safe.

You didn’t realize how much more relaxed you had become until you felt the deep rumble of a suppressed laugh against your face.

Your eyes had fallen closed, and you had subconsciously drawn closer to him, one breath away from your nose grazing his own. If you had done it on purpose, it almost would’ve been a taunt. But he laughed, knowing this wasn’t the case.

“Come with me.” He teased, you felt his breath against your lips, the touch of them however ghosting you entirely.

The phrase implied a question, but he had no intention of actually letting you go.

And you had no intention of leaving.

So, you let him carry you.

He turned his head in the direction of the couch. The warmth of his face left yours feeling cold when he turned away and as he started carrying you. He held you tight as he sat you down with him, placing you sideways in his lap and protecting your head as if he was holding a precious newborn.

Upon feeling the side of the couch at your back, the distance between you and him became unbearable, despite still being in his arms. You leaned toward him and adjusted yourself to wrap your arms under his shoulders and around his chest. Your cheek rested against his sternum.

You wanted to feel the thump of his heartbeat and steady cadence of his breathing. Wanted to take those rhythms and place them within your heart. Unfortunately, this was only the closest you could get.

He responded in kind, wrapping his own arms around you. His grasp was strong. Grounding. Not tight or restrictive. One arm crossing and protecting your back while the other held the back of your head.

You felt so very safe.

You had never felt so safe.

Feng Xin was the one person who could make you feel…

Safe.

He squeezed you against his chest. You squeezed back. It had been such a long day. Just holding onto the man in your arms comforted a place in your soul that had been feeling tension and discomfort for so long.

In response to your strengthened hug, he started gently running his fingers along your back, starting at the vertebrae below your neck and dragging a light touch in circles around each segment of your spine. One, two, three circles with his fingers before he’d move on to the next section and start the circles again.

You shuddered the moment his fingertips reached squarely between your shoulder blades, flexing them together and burying your face deeper into his chest with your eyes shut tight. He promptly removed his fingertips and replaced the teasing ticklish touch of his finger circles with a flat firm hand gently massaging the drawn muscles in your back, gingerly untying the knot in between your shoulder blades until they loosened again.

When you finally relaxed, you realized even being held like this, even intertwined like this, was still not close enough.

Your hands fell to fidget with the bottom hem of his shirt, rolling the soft fabric between your fingers.

His hands were still on your back and in your hair. But not wildly. There was only just enough movement to let you know he was still there. It suggested nothing more.

Seconds passed and you fought against every muscle in your body that was screaming at you to stay in his arms, to stay safe, and you instead lifted yourself from his embrace.

His arms fell away to allow you the freedom to move. You hated how cold you felt without him. You settled down again in his lap, now facing him with your legs on either side of his. Your hands found their way to his hair, tied up into a bun with only his long bangs framing his beautiful face.

Your hands held the back of his neck as you looked across his face, your gaze switching between both of his golden eyes. Each of your fingers sprawled out and cradled the space between the nape of his neck and the spot just behind his ears. Your finger pads ran up and down between the strands of his tied-up hair to massage his scalp. Your thumbs rested in front of his ears toying with the strands of hair that framed his face.

He simply stared back at you, his eyes hazy with bewilderment. You noticed his concern was still present in the slight crease between his brows.

You wanted that concern to disappear.

Feng Xin dared not to move as you placed your lips on his brow, the spot just above the bridge of his nose, and lightly kissed. Still holding his head and playing with his hair but now also urging his concern to go away.

Just as slowly as you leaned in to kiss him, you then drew back, admiring your work on the way. Settling yourself back in his lap and smiling sweetly now that the crease had melted away.

The bit of Feng Xin’s gaze that had held his cold concern now housed a new contrasting emotion. One that was a lot warmer. And it seemed to be growing throughout his face. The crease that had been between his eyes had been swapped out for a budding warmth in his features.

You were about to drop both of your hands from his neck when Feng Xin reached up to stop one of them from moving. He intertwined his fingers with yours and pressed his cheek into your palm, closing his eyes.

Hot.

His cheek burned.

Like the scorching sun at the height of summer. Not enough to hurt at first. But dare to stay exposed too much longer and your skin might bubble. Skin cooked raw to the touch.

Too much longer like this and he’d turn you to ash.

Feng Xin hastily shifted his upper body forward, leaning in tauntingly close as he stood to pick you up. Momentum from his movement drew your face toward his and you let it.

His strong hands supported you, gripping tenderly under your thighs as you succumbed to the tingling burn on your skin.

And you kissed him. Sudden and chaste, yet lingering.

He kissed back. Brief but hungry. He only allowed himself to bite your lip for a moment before reluctantly pulling away and meeting your gaze.

You hooked your feet behind his lower back as both reassurance and to steady yourself. In response, Feng Xin carefully and eagerly carried you to your room, and laid you down on your back underneath himself. His one arm gingerly lowered you while the other supported himself above your shoulder and past your ear.

You noticed his fluid movement pause at the sight of you. Your hair draped around your head like a crown as you gazed back at him. You ran your fingers through your own hair to test your theory, and it earned you an open-mouthed gasp from him.

Quiet, but undeniably real.

You drew that same hand away from your hair and ghosted your skin along the back of his neck, twisting the short wisps of hair at his nape around your fingers. When your hand did eventually settle on his neck, that slightest bit of applied force seemed to crumble him, and he dropped his face toward yours, using your hand to guide his way.

And he kissed you again. And again, and again.

There was palpable pressure this time. And much more greed.

Like if he didn’t kiss you just right or if he didn’t kiss you just enough that, for some reason, he thought he would never again get the chance.

Like it was the last and only thing he had ever wanted to do. And, gods be damned, he was going to do it right.

...

| Next Chapter | -> lmk if you'd like more...

[imwritingforfun]

Help guys 😭

If you guys are going to be rude to me just because I'm asking a question are you guys okay? 💀

I saw this person charging people if they want to make a request then they have to pay

And I found that really interesting because I never once ever saw someone charging people for a request

So I commented "not to sound rude but I find this very interesting" because I mean it was

Tell me why this cunt decided to argue with me like I offended them somehow 💀

I'm sorry that your broke ass can't find a job so you have to charge people to make a request with your corny ass writing!

Anyway that's all :) next chapter coming soon I promise!!

[password-door-lock]

Birthday Gift

Unknown x Reader and Saeyoung x Reader; angst set after Saeyoung's BSE 1; 4k words Rating: mature Content warnings: manipulation, kidnapping, referenced abuse, possessive behavior, power dynamics

He’s not stupid. He knows that this image was intended to hurt him, to mock him, to ruin his birthday— as if it wasn’t already ruined by the knowledge that his little brother was kidnapped and brainwashed by a cult which happened to be run by one of the two people in whom Saeyoung chose to invest his trust. As if it wasn’t already ruined by the fact that his friends— not his friends, the members of the RFA; they were never his friends; they never even knew his real name— have been forced into a 24/7 limbo game of press conferences and public schedules, a never-ending publicity stunt to call attention to the disappearance of one of their members. As if it wasn’t already ruined by the fact that you were ripped away from him, violently and brutally, by someone who boasted a willingness to hurt you if it meant harming Saeyoung. As if it wasn’t already ruined by every decision that Saeyoung has made in his entire worthless life. Maybe he doesn’t even deserve to have a birthday in the first place— he wonders, and not for the first time, if things would all have been better if he were never born.

Or:

Unknown sends his brother a little birthday gift.

Read it on Ao3!

[liv45no]

Eddie: *trying to fix something*

Eddie: could you give me a hand?

Richie: sure.

Richie: *grabs Eddie’s hand and holds it*

Eddie: you’re cute but that’s not what I meant.