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#to step on the toes of those who feel hurt makes no sense to me when there is a clear and easy way to avoid it

madohomurat · 1 year

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the pro bi lesbian arguments all boil down to one of these statements

i do not personally believe that these identities are lesbiphobic, biphobic, or transphobic and those who say that they are, are delusional and need to get over it (touch grass, etc.)

i do not personally believe that these identities are lesbiphobic, biphobic, or transphobic, and those who say that they are, are only doing so because they want to tear the community apart

regardless of lesbiphobia, biphobia, or transphobia, we should turn a blind eye to it because i personally fail to see how and why these identities can invalidate someone

regardless of lesbiphobia, biphobia, or transphobia, we should turn a blind eye because theres other things that are more important

there is no such thing as an LGBTQ identity that is harmful or invalidating towards other LGBTQ identities

and i see very blatant flaws in all of these basic conclusions. like, no matter how hard i try, and trust me, i have tried very hard, i simply cannot see how any of these conclusions are just or good in nature or "good faith"

#discourse bullshit sorry #like for real im deadass open to the words of someone who feels that its detrimental for lesbians to be vocal about lesbiphobia #100% full transparency here i have TRIED so hard to consider the other side of this argument #it always seems to demonize or belittle those who feel invalidated and i cant in good conscience ever think thats okay and fine #to step on the toes of those who feel hurt makes no sense to me when there is a clear and easy way to avoid it #solidarity would be to call yourself bi sapphic instead of bi lesbian #because even if you dont understand why- you still care about the feelings and concerns of other LGBTQ peop

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gentlyweeps-world · 3 months

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summer fling

summary: a summer fling turns into more after lance tells the truth.

pairing: lance stroll x reader

warnings: none

genre: fluff!!

notes: I’ve been on a lance kick recently!! sorry for the infrequent uploads, I’ve been very busy recently. send in any requests 🫶

words: 1.1k

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

You had met Lance at a fancy restaurant during yours- and coincidentally his summer break. You didn't know who he was, all you knew was that he was hot and sweet, a perfect combination for a summer fling!

“So where are you from?” Lance had asked, some fancy drink in his hand as he stood by you at your table, “Why do you want to know? For all I know you could be a secret killer..” You had replied with a grin, wanting to keep him on his toes.

“Aww..c’mon, I just want to get to know you..” He responded with a smile, not sensing any harm in your words, or rather any resentment.

“Fine..you can sit down and get to know me…”

That had been maybe a week ago, know you and Lance text, call and hang out frequently, you didn't mind it. You quite liked him actually, but it was supposed to be a summer fling, not a full fledged romance, but hey…maybe it wouldn't hurt.

You still didn't know much about him, he said he didn't have social media so you didn't bother trying to dig up anything, not really caring that much about it, but you did know he had money.

“Okay, no! Thats so ugly!” You say with a giggle as you lay on Lances chest, him scrolling through some cars he liked, Lance let out a fake offended gasp, “That is not ugly!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night….” You respond with a smile. "Don't make fun of my car choices." He replied, his tone clearly playful- he didn't actually care.

You laid there, resting your head on his chest as your fingers intertwined with his, your thumb stroking his hand. You looked up at him, watching his mouth form words as he scrolled through his camera roll.

You looked away, not wanting him to notice you looking. Your thoughts were scattered, you had no idea what you wanted from him. You had grown close, closer than you had ever thought. But for what?

I mean you didn’t even know what he did for a living, he never brought up that kind of stuff. Should you ask? No..no don’t ruin the mood.

So you didn’t ask, you just went on with how things were not asking any questions, not wanting to ruin anything.

But he had stopped texting or calling frequently, even hanging out, it was weird. Maybe he was hiding something from you?

But one night you had gotten a text, two tickets to a Canadian Grand Prix? Formula One? You had heard of it, but didn’t really care.

Then your phone popped up with a face time request from Lance.

“Hey uhm- what’s up with the tickets?” You ask, confusion evident in your face and words.

"Oh those?" Lance looked away from the camera for a second, he was trying to hide the genuine excitement from his face. It was quite hard.

"I thought it would be nice to take a trip over to the race, you don't have to go with but if you want to-" He stopped himself, he was being too desperate.

"It's not a big deal.." It was clear he wanted you to say yes, very desperately.

“No..no it’s okay! It sounds fun, I’ll make sure I can go..but why Formula One?” You ask, feeling like he was hiding something.

He was shocked for a second, how had you not made the connection? He had been so subtle about his passion for cars, he figured it to be clear.

“I uhm- I work in Formula One..kind of..” He says, clearly avoiding the topic. “Oh okay that’s cool..well I’m sure it’ll be fun..” You say with a smile, not wanting to press into the topic.

Lance sighs in relief, you didn’t press him on this topic. It was something he wanted to keep to himself for the time being, just until he felt comfortable with you.

But you weren’t just some summer fling anymore, he had developed genuine feelings towards you.

“Wow..okay this is fancy..” You say, stepping onto a jet that’ll take you to the Grand Prix.

"Yeah, it is.." He was more used to seeing this sort of environment, but for you it was probably quite impressive.

“Lance- why are there so many people..” You whisper out, clutching his hand as you two are ushered out of the airport, people shouting for his autograph on hats- or asking for a picture.

“I’ll tell you once we get to the hotel..” He says with a sigh and small smile, squeezing your hand.

You first thought that maybe he was a very rich well-known bachelor- although that wouldn’t have made sense.

You were nervous, anxious. What was he going to tell you?

“I’m a formula one driver for Aston Martin..and my father owns the team..” Lance says, looking up at you from his spot on the bed, nervously fidgeting with his fingers.

Well that was certainly not what you were expecting.

Your eyes widen at that statement, you didn't really want to believe it, but the pieces all fit together. The jet ride, the crowd of people, the way everyone was taking pictures of him.

"You- your dad owns the team?" You ask cautiously. What did this mean for you? Were you considered a "trophy" to him? Your mind was racing- you didn't know how to feel.

"Y-yeah.." He responds nervously, you could tell he was worried about your reaction. He had always expected that reaction with anyone he told the truth.

You weren't expected to understand or want to be around that. He didn't blame you. You were different.

"I understand if you want to leave or-" His voice trails off, he's waiting for you to speak up.

“No! No..it’s okay, just a lot to take in, yknow? You could’ve told me..” You say with a chuckle, walking over to him, standing between his legs.

His eyes widened at the suddenness of this encounter. You were standing between his legs, he had expected you to run off, not this.

"I wanted to, but I felt it wasn't right- especially not until I knew how you felt." He said softly, not really letting his eyes wander.

There was a soft smile on his face.

“Right..just don’t do that again..” You say with a giggle, reaching for one of his hands to lace your fingers together.

“And just know it’s not “daddy’s money’” Lance says, looking up at you.

You nod your head, giving him a small smile.

Now you know why he didn’t want to tell you.

“So..I guess we’re official, huh?” Lance says with a chuckle, you smile softly at him. “I guess so..”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

radio 🪩: don’t be afraid to send in requests or ask to be added to the taglist!! I hope it was good :))

permanent taglist: @cixrosie @amajixi @i-wish-this-was-me @nelly187 @hannahwsworld @sltwins @itsprashimusic

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igotanidea · 3 months

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Dirty work: Jason Todd x reader

A/N: I am a firm believer that even in his post-patrol haze and surge of energy all Jason Todd needs from his beloved princess are hugs, not fucks and i will die on this hill.

***

The adrenaline was still fuzzing in his system, even after hours and hours of his night job in Gotham. It was stressful and hitting on all his sensitive spots hidden so deep under the surface. Muscles moving in the trained motion he practised milion times before, each instinct spurred on by imagination running wild.

Hurt, scared, innocent kids, left to tend to themselves on the streets.

Ordinary citizens exposed to the aftermath of whatever drama and destruction the mobs and gangs decided to wage that night.

Terror on the street on women who were working the night shift, trying to make a living, make ends meet.

And the same shit going on over and over again every fucking night, because fucking someone had a fucking moral code. Because fucking someone refused to put an end to something terrible, too afraid to stain his fucking soul.

Red Hood didn't have a soul to save anymore.

Not after everything that happened in his life.

Dirty wokrk, but someone had to do it.

One life taken, dozens of other's saved. Felt like constantly being at war and the heat of the fight made it so much easier to forget about the sacrifices made along the way.

Red Hood was strong, tough and ready to take on the hardest responsiblity of cleaning Gotham of scumbags and crimnals.

But after?

Once the first rays of a morning sun loomed on the horizon, Jason knew it was time to go home. Take off the mask. Became an ordinary man once more.

Hoping, wishing and praying she wouldn't kick him out again this time. That she would take him, despite the blood on his hands, the injuries on his body and deep scars on his soul.

Not a Red Hood anymore.

Jason Todd. Human. Man. Boyfiend.

The energy was still high when he climbed to the apartment and stood on the wooden floor, carefullly avoiding that one screetching floarboard, almost stepping on his toes to not wake her.

"Jason."

Years of vigilantism and dealing with shit.

Hightened instincts and senses.

And yet, Y'N's voice in the morning, in the empty, quiet apartment made him jump from surprise, causing her to giggle, causing the surprise to give way to a wave of warm feelings.

"Morning, sunshine."

"Depends. Did you bring me breakfast?" she teased

"Since when do you eat breakfast?"

"It doesn't matter if I do!" she got out of the bed, yawning widely, rubbing her eyes and stepping closer to him, taking his helmet off, mindful of the explosived installed there (biting her tongue to not say something about using a protection that was simultaniously life threatening) "You are supposed to preach me about not eating healthy and feeding me with the best groceries. Croissaints, fancy salads, low fat cheese. All that stuff!"

"Are you for real?" he frowned in confusion upon her words. What was going on here?

"Nah, I'm joking cause I can tell that under all this pose you're tired. Though maybe a bit of laugh would do you good. Even if it;s at my expense" she smiled cupping his cheek and meeting his eyes "What do you need? hugs, kisses, cuddles? Or somehing more intense?" that was an obvious hint she was willing to help if he needed some action to blow off some steam.

"Can you just be with me? I just need your presence next to me. Knowing this is all real and I won't wake up alone again." hearing those words coming from Jason was the biggest leap of faith. He was not the one to admit to feeling tired or that something was weighting on his conscience once out of the mask. Never in the million years. But with her - it was simpler, easier, knowing she would just listen and observe rather than fill the silence with silly questions and talking and preaching and lamenting about his behaviour.

"I'm here. I promise, it's all real. You're not alone." She nodded calmly.

Jason produced the tiniest smile and let her guide him to the warm bed with the soft sheets smelling like her, with her arms wrapped around him like a soft cocoon.

And it was just fine.

No need to talk or to explain or to fight anymore.

Getting rid of this feeling that nothing made sense, his efforts were futile and no one would ever understand him.

Finally, a little bit of peace and maybe - just maybe - the tiniest amount of happiness brought by the steady beating of her heart in his ear and the gentle movement of her fingers in his hair.

True meaning of intimacy between two people.

Bonding for life.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff

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jinwoosungs · 6 days

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{ 176 }

marked by you.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

warnings: yet another late night thirst post; minors don’t interact.

by choosing to interact with this 18+ content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings.

anonymous said: Reader who frets about the scratch marks that she creates on Jinwoo's back and keeps apologizing for it x Jinwoo who loves it. Too bad he heals quickly. Oh, what shall he do? Guess he has to take em again on bed n rail em hard so he can get those marks again 😼

when you and jinwoo got ready for bed that night, you were simply brushing your teeth as jinwoo got out of the showers. as you rinsed your mouth before drying it with a towel, your eyes trail over to your lover, only for your gaze to go wide upon seeing what looked like deep red claw marks against his back.

you were flustered now, heart pounding as you could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks in response. softly calling out his name, you step closer to him, gently tracing at the prominent marks with your fingertips.

feeling jinwoo stiffen from beneath your soft touch, a tiny gasp of pain was heard, filling you with a deep sense of guilt.

“honey? what is it? what are you looking at?”

you didn’t answer him, choosing instead to place kisses against his back where your deep scratches were seen. letting out a sigh, you lean closer to his broad back before pressing even more kisses against those painful marks.

“i’m sorry, for hurting you.” only when you gently lick away at them did jinwoo lose his absolute mind. feeling your tongue innocently tracing at those angry red marks- the memory of them being caused by your nails raking down his back with each and every one of his thrusts makes jinwoo lose all sense of his inhibitions.

silently, jinwoo purposefully drops the damp towel from his waist, making you gasp when he suddenly faces you, trapping you against the bathroom sink. a devious smirk paints his handsome features as he teasingly rubs his erection across your inner thighs. groaning at the silky feel of them, he continues to further harden his cock for you, basking in your breathy moans as your arms automatically came up to wrap around his neck.

“my sweet and darling treasure, always so considerate of me.” jinwoo’s voice darkens just the tiniest bit, leaning in to bite down against the shell of your ear while whispering hedonistic phrases to you.

“the way you rake your nails down my back is actually one of my greatest treasures. whenever i catch a glimpse of them, i get so hard, remembering just how deep i got inside of you- so deep that it made your toes curl and your hands claw against my back…”

“ah…!” you feel him move aside your panties with one hand, massaging his cock beneath your soaking core as he collected your arousal with his velvety cock, sliding the tip of it in and out of your slickness as he purposely drove you crazy for him.

you were dimly aware of the faint, golden glow that surrounds jinwoo, eyes becoming dilated as he peered down at you. “oh…? would you look at that. i’m all healed-“

“i guess this means i just have to get new marks from you now.”

without giving you a warning, jinwoo shoves his cock deep inside of you, making you see stars as your walls cling tightly to him in a vice grip. while jinwoo fucked you against the bathroom sink, you were slowly losing bits and pieces of your sanity. your hands were already reaching toward his muscled back, clinging to him as you curled your nails against his skin.

“fuck.” he lets out a harsh whisper of your name, sliding his cock all the way out of your soaked core before shoving himself back in, purposely rubbing against your swollen bundle of nerves in the process. pretty droplets of tears were felt settled against your eyelashes as you fought to even think straight.

when you nearly fell to the ground, jinwoo keeps you steady by placing both hands possessively over your waist, bouncing you up and down his cock with a feral grunt. with this new angle, you could feel how deep he was hitting that special spot inside of you, making you cry out as you locked your legs around his waist, climaxing immediately around him. jinwoo could feel your juices staining at his cock, making him lose all coherent thought while continuing to ram himself in and out of you.

“that’s it, fuck, that’s it…!” jinwoo watches with wide eyes, seeing the familiar clear fluid travel down the length of his erection before burying himself inside of your sweet cunt, his cock pulsating as he released everything he had inside of you.

a choked moan was heard coming from your perfectly parted lips, your nails once more latching on to his skin for support, nearly drawing blood in the process as jinwoo let out a loud groan. he weakly thrusts in and out of you, making sure that he had completely emptied himself before resting his head on your damp shoulder.

you were breathing heavily now, slowly smoothing the palm of your hand down his back, feeling the imprint of your deep scratches against his skin. “oh…oh!”

your gasp turns into a surprise one when you feel your lover growing inside of you, filling you once more as he meets your gaze with his own. an expression of lust and adoration overtakes jinwoo’s handsome features when he suddenly carries you, bringing your back against the bathroom wall. with a pant, jinwoo continues stroking his cock in and out of you as you let out even more cries of his name in response.

“hn, i’m still not quite satisfied with the marks you’ve given me. how about we spend the whole night like this and you can mark me as much as you want?”

you let out a weak moan and attempt to glare at him, but the way your gummy walls seemed to tighten around him lets him know just how eager you were to do just that.

a.n. - i’m thirsty. all of my jinwoo readers are thirsty. so i did something about it. 🫠🫠🫠🫠

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#solo leveling smut #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x you #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #.stories

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shadowdaddies · 3 months

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I have a request! Reader accidentally hurts themself in an embarrassing way and Rhys/cass/az(idc which one) sees the injury(bruise, cut, etc) and freaks out asking “who did this??” And reader has to awkwardly admit that they did it.

Idk if that makes sense but I thought it was a cute idea for a drabble and I really like your writing 🥰 Feel free to make any changes!

thank you love!💜 I went with Cassian for this one, as a clumsy person myself this resonated with me lol

Falling for You

Cassian x Reader fluff

warnings: mentions of injury, a bit suggestive

Lunging towards Cassian, you swung your sword in an arc, only for the wooden practice blade to hit the training mat. Cassian’s foot swiped your ankle, knocking you flat on your back as his own weapon found your throat.

With a teasing click of his tongue, your mate smirked down at you. “I believe you yield, my love.”

Scowling, you swatted the wooden blade away, standing up to stalk over to the weapons rack, shoving your tools inside. Warm hands wrapped around your waist, Cassian smirking as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

“Come now, sweetheart. Don’t be a sore loser,” he purred.

With mock offense, you turned to face your mate, poking him in the ribs. “I’ll be sore if I want to be,” you retorted.

Mischief danced in hazel eyes as Cassian pulled you impossibly close, fingers tilting your chin so your nose brushed his. “Mm, but what if I offer you a massage, maybe a bath to help with that soreness?”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, the scent of your arousal instant at his rough voice. A dark chuckle left your mate’s lips, the general giving no warning before he tossed you over his shoulder.

“Cassian!” you yelled, swatting at him with a giggle while he carried you towards your bedroom. Your only response was a light smack on your ass, drawing another gasp as you settled in his hold.

Carrying you into the bathroom, Cassian set you down on the tile floor, directing you to undress while he moved to turn on the bath water.

You shucked off your boots, peeling your pants and shirt off when you looked up to see Cassian staring at you, horror etched on his features. Frantically looking over your body, your eyes found Cassian’s. “What? What is it?” you questioned.

Your mate visibly swallowed, his voice thick as he gestured weakly to your leg. “Did I... did I do that?” he muttered, silver lining his eyes that bored into your skin.

You looked down to where he was pointing, finding a bruise you knew all too well, the blackish-purple skin marring a large part of your upper thigh.

Embarrassment flooded over you, blush rising to your cheeks as you scrambled for words. You had hoped the injury would heal in time for Cassian to never know, but the way that he was looking at you right now, you needed to tell him.

Sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “No, Cass, you didn’t do that...” you whispered. The moment those words left your lips, his demeanor changed.

The Lord of Bloodshed stood before you, eyes alight with fury. “Who did this to you? I will make them wish they were never born,” he growled, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his misplaced wrath.

“Calm down, love. No one else did this to me. I did it myself... on accident,” you muttered, lips pursed as you avoided eye contact.

Arching a questioning brow, Cassian’s hand gripped your chin, turning you to face him. “What happened, sweetheart?” he questioned, voice soft with concern.

You paced the bathroom, stopping at the tub where you dipped your toe into the warm water. With a smirk, you stepped into the small pool. “It doesn’t really matter,” you hummed, sending a playful splash towards Cassian. “Why don’t you come join me in the bath?” you purred, arching your chest above the water in an attempt to distract him.

Your mate smirked, and you knew that you had caught him as he removed his leathers, stepping into the tub with you. Wading to where you sat, Cassian’s broad hands found your waist, his neck dipping to your shoulder.

Warm lips found your sweet spot, sucking softly on the sensitive skin there as you sighed, rolling your hips against him. Suddenly he stilled his movements, lips moving against your neck. “Where did you get that bruise from, love?”

An exaggerated sigh escaped you. “Don’t laugh at me,” you muttered, gaze turning stern when Cassian pulled back, looking at you with a bemused expression.

“Nyx tied my shoelaces together,” you pouted, arms crossing over your chest. “And I didn’t realize it, so when I tried to walk, I tripped.” With a huff, you glanced to Cassian, the male biting his lip hard to keep from laughing.

His joy and amusement spread through the bond, forcing a smile of your own at his happiness. A small laugh escaped you at the ridiculousness of the situation, Cassian bursting with booming laughter shortly after.

Your stomach hurt, tears in your eyes from how hard you both laughed, gasping for air as you finally settled down. Cassian moved to the edge of the tub, pulling you in his lap and pressed a kiss to your hair.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

Leaning up, you pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I love you too,” you murmured.

“Maybe we can buy you some button up shoes, something child-proof” Cassian mused, earning an elbow to the stomach as you giggled in his arms.

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moremaybank · 10 months

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UR BEST FRIEND — s.c

pairing sarah cameron x fem!reader

summary sarah's dating john b, but also happens to be in love with you; john b's best friend. (based on the song "ur best friend" by kiana ledé feat. kehlani)

warnings oral sex (fem. receiving), fingering, choking, spitting, scissoring, language, cheating (sarah on john b — oops), kinda toxic and a lil angsty with a fluffy ending

author's note the "ur" is intentional! song linked here ♡︎ please listen to it, it's one of my faves of all time and you def won't regret it

sarah masterlist

we ain’t felt like us in a minute

whole damn time i knew i shouldn’t have did it

might’ve got too excited, i’ll admit it

almost called your name when he was in it

Sarah finds that she can’t cum unless she pictures that it’s you who’s making her do so. It’s not like the sex with John B is bad. It isn’t. It’s a shame what she’s doing to him, convincing him that she’s head over heels and insatiable when it comes to the love and touches he provides her with as if she doesn’t feel those very things for his best friend. But she can’t bear to hurt him. She cares about him deeply, and there is a connection there.

Still, ever since you came around and intertwined your life with hers deeper than she’s ever imagined, she’s been missing that spark with her boyfriend. The spark that makes her knees weak and makes her stomach do flips. The spark that ignites a flutter in her core, that makes her soak through her panties in anticipation of the pleasure that will soon fill every molecule of her being.

The spark that only lights because of you.

She opens her eyes, and she’s almost disappointed when her eyes land on John B’s and not yours. Your soft skin isn’t pressing against hers. Your kiss-swollen lips aren’t the ones melting into her own like silk. The moans of ecstasy aren’t emitting from your sweet mouth.

All Sarah wants is you, and she has you. But not right now, and not in the way she truly longs for.

ooh, it’s wrong, but you make me feel right

textin’ your phone while right beside him

wish it was anyone besides him

It’s date night for Sarah and John B, the two of them on the couch in the chateau as they watch a movie.

Sarah scrolls mindlessly through her phone, her feet propped on John B’s lap while he dozes off. The main characters in the movie are slowly becoming intimate, their kisses growing deeper and sloppier as they begin to remove each other’s clothing and profess their love in a toe-curling fashion.

Sarah’s thighs squeeze together as she tries to quell the ache but also provide a small sense of friction to her throbbing clit. She’s crazy. John B’s right there. She could take care of things right now, and find her release with the help of her boyfriend. But she isn’t thinking about him.

She’s thinking about you.

She whips out her phone once more, opening her messages and clicking on your shared chat.

i miss you :(( please tell me you get off work soon

Her eyes flit up to the top left corner of her screen, noticing that the time is now nine o’clock on the dot. Once her eyes return to your messages, she sees that you’re typing. Anticipation and excitement roll through her as she awaits your response.

just finished baby. meet me at mine in a half hour?

Sarah grins as she types out her response.

you can bet on it <3

i was with my man last night

and i just realized what i felt that night wasn’t wrong

thought about you in the whole car ride, like

i hate that you ain’t your best friend (x2)

“God, I missed you,” you mumble against Sarah’s wet lips.

The minute she stepped inside your house, you pulled her in for a kiss and wouldn’t dare let her go until you got a little fill of what you’d been waiting all day for. Then, before you both knew it, you were piled into your shower with your naked bodies pressed together as one.

Your lips trail down her neck as your hands move to massage her breasts. You pinch her nipples and she sighs as she leans against the wall. Her back arches and she pushes herself further into your hold.

“I missed you more. Haven’t even gotten off properly since the last time I was with you.”

“Yeah?” You ask, leaving more open-mouthed kisses on her skin while you slowly sink to your knees. “I can fix that for you if you’d like.”

She nods, her eyes screwing shut when she feels your thumb swipe over her clit ever so lightly. “Yes. Yes, please.”

You grin, “So pretty when you beg for me, baby.”

Your hand hooks under the back of her knee and you pull her leg over your shoulder, opening her core up to you. Your hands then move to cup her ass, and you force her cunt onto your tongue. Her hips buck when your tongue graces through her folds, licking and sucking at anywhere you can reach. You flick stripes onto her, taking your time and teasing her as you ghost around her most sensitive bud. You can taste her arousal as it seeps out of her more and more, and you savour it as if you’ll never get another chance to do so.

“You taste so good,” you murmur. You slip a finger into her slowly, pulling back to watch her face contort in pleasure. “You’re so tight too. Barely giving my finger a chance to move, baby.”

Returning your mouth to her, you trace the outline of her clit and feel her buck her hips into you when you start to suck on it. You pull away to speak as you add another finger. They hook up into her g-spot, curling and probing it as your eyes lock with hers.

“That’s it. Ride my face. Use me just how you like,” you encourage, sticking your tongue back out for her use. Her hands slip into your hair as she obeys you, holding your head in place and riding your tongue with need.

Her moans grow louder, and you shake your head back and forth when her motions falter, helping her reach her high. Your face is practically buried in her when you flick her clit just right and press the special spot inside her simultaneously, causing her to fall apart. She releases your head, twisting and pulling at her nipples as she rides out her orgasm. She shivers, nearly losing her balance if it weren’t for your hold on her.

“I love watching you cum,” you speak, slowly slipping your cum-coated fingers out of her hole and rising back onto your feet. Your other hand grabs her face as you push your fingers into her mouth, letting her taste herself. “You look so pretty, like an angel.”

hey, he had the courage to step up ‘n pull up

six speed like

puttin’ so much work, just to make it work

and he’s almost perfect, and that’s why it hurts

and he calls me family, that’s what make it worse

You’d harboured feelings for Sarah long before she was even on John B’s radar. Truthfully, you didn’t think she would ever be into you, and so you never made a move. But the guilt bubbled inside you so powerfully whenever you saw the two of them together. It also didn’t help that he’d come to you for everything, especially when he was in dire need of help. You suffered through hearing about their first date, the first time they slept together, and everything in between.

You envied him. If only you’d had the courage the way he did, maybe you’d be in his position. Getting to call Sarah yours in public. Kissing the life out of her whenever you saw her, no matter who was around or watching. Being the only one who got to touch her and make her cum in the heavenly way she did so.

It isn’t fair. Lusting and pining after your best friend’s girlfriend. John B’s always been there for you, without fail, and he’s one of the most important people in your life. But you can’t help your feelings, they’re uncontrollable. And though you wanted Sarah first, you couldn’t just turn off what you felt for her in the blink of an eye.

“You good?” Kie asks as you watch John B pull Sarah into his hold, seeing the two of them giggle and beam at each other.

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Why?”

“Maybe because you’re giving John B and Sarah the death stare.”

Your head snaps away, your eyes finding Kie’s immediately as you try to play it off.

“Nah, it’s not…it’s not like that. I just zoned out. I got a lot going on.”

“Whatever you say,” she hums, taking a swig of her beer.

Your eyes move back onto the couple for a few seconds, and Sarah happens to catch your eye. She gives you a saddened look, mouthing an I’m sorry to you form across the way. You nod in response, giving her a half-hearted smile before getting up to get another drink.

There was no way you could stomach the sight of them sober.

it’s wrong but i make you feel right

you textin’ my phone while right beside him

wish it was anyone besides him

“Oh my god, yes!” Sarah exclaims. “Please don’t stop. Please.”

You continue rolling your hips, rutting your clit against Sarah’s as you ride her pussy. You’re clutching onto her left leg, adorning the skin of her calf and knee with kisses. Her pleas rile you up further, and your left hand grabs her by the throat.

“Open wide for me,” you command with a stern voice, squeezing your hand slightly.

Sarah listens, always one to follow your orders. Her tongue sticks out as she stretches her mouth open for you. You lean down, spitting into it and letting your grip on her tighten as you ride her harder.

“Now swallow.”

Sarah does as you say, showing you the proof when her mouth opens up to you again.

“Such a good slut for me, hm? You’d let me do anything I wanted, wouldn’t you?” Your fingers stuff into her mouth, nearly gagging her as you begin to swivel your hips in a circle and throw your head back as the pit in your core tightens. It starts to build, tighter and tighter as you’re on the brink of your release. “Shit, I’m gonna cum.”

You retract your fingers from her mouth and they find purchase in her hair as you pull her head up to your chest. Sarah sticks out her tongue, slithering it against one of your nipples as her eyes lock on yours. Her hot breath against your flesh makes you shiver as it breezes over your wet bud. You cry out when you cum with Sarah right behind you as her head falls back against her pillow.

“Yes, fuck!”

You nearly collapse on top of her, your lips finding hers and capturing them in a greedy kiss. You lick into her mouth, tasting her as your chest heaves. When you pull away, her eyes are dancing with mischief.

“Wanna go again?”

Before you can respond, her phone dings, notifying you both that someone has texted her. The hand she has on your hip squeezes it in comfort as she reaches over and grabs it. Her smile fades, and your brow raises.

“Who is it?”

She gulps, “It’s John B. He…He needs me. Something went down between him and JJ.”

“Right, yeah,” you say, climbing off of her slowly. “I’ll just go then.”

“Y/N,” she speaks, her voice in a pleading tone. “You know that’s not what I want. But he’s my boyfriend. I’m supposed to be there for him.”

“Yeah, I know. I don’t need you to remind me that you aren’t mine.” The bitterness seeps from your voice as you get dressed. “I’m just getting tired of being your secret.”

“Y/N, please. I’ll tell him. You just gotta give me time.”

“I have given you time! It’s been months, Sarah. And I know it isn’t easy for you, but, fuck, it’s not easy for me either. He’s my best friend.” Your movements come to a stop, and you find her eyes. “Maybe…maybe we should just end this. We both know that you won’t walk away from him, and I’m not gonna stick around and get hurt by you even more than I already have.”

Pain flashes across Sarah’s face and she gets out of bed. Her hands find your face when she reaches you, urging you to look at her again.

“Don’t. Don’t leave me.”

She pulls you in for a kiss, soft and head-spinning as her lips brush against yours. You try to resist, but you can’t help it. You melt into her and grant her access when her tongue swipes against your bottom lip.

You’re stuck. You’re in deep. Too deep.

you was with your man last night

and you just realized what you felt that night wasn’t wrong

thought me on your whole car ride, like

i hate that you ain’t your best friend (x2)

The drive home from Sarah’s is a mopey one. Void by The Neighbourhood buzzes through the speakers of your car, contributing to your sulking. Part of you wonders if she feels the same way you do. Far past hurt because you can’t be together. Envious when she sees someone else’s hands on you at a party, like she wants to rip them away from you and pull you into her own arms instead. Dying to kiss you when she catches your eye in public.

Part of you thinks that she’s just into you for the sex. That the reason she won’t leave John B is because she’s getting the best of both worlds. A relationship with someone who dotes on you without ever wavering, and great, passionate sex with someone she considers to be her current fixation.

But you can’t be more wrong.

Meanwhile, on Sarah’s ride over to John B’s, all she can think about is ending things with him. It’s horrible timing, but the longer she waits, the worse it becomes. She’s hurting badly. She wants to be with you. More than she’s ever wanted anything in her life. The way she loves you is tearing her up inside because she’ll never be able to truly bare her soul to you if she’s still in her relationship.

Another thing weighing on her mind is how close she came to losing you today. Hearing how wounded you were by the fact that she didn’t really and truly belong to you, that you’re constantly forced to watch the girl you love with your best friend. She’s always so wrapped up in her guilt toward John B that she failed to notice that the guilt and pain were taking its toll on you too.

So she has to buck up. If she doesn’t, then she’ll lose you for good.

i always knew from the beginning

the whole damn time, it’s you that i was feelin’

seems like things are better when forbidden

and that’s why i hate that

i hate that you ain’t your best friend

The next day, you’re still in a grumpy mood. You showered last night upon coming home, and you’ve been glued to your bed ever since. You roll your eyes as Jenny from Gossip Girl whines to her father Rufus about quitting school, and suddenly, you hear a knock on your front door. You let out a groan, dramatically rolling out of bed and making your way down to tell whoever’s choosing to bother you right now to fuck off. But when you open the door, you come face to face with the girl you love.

There she is, standing in the pouring rain, her clothes wholly drenched and her hair sticking to the sides of her face.

“Sarah? Come inside, you’re going to get pneumonia,” you say. Your fingers circle her wrist and you tug her into your warm home. Your hands rub her arms up and down as you try to warm her up. You can practically hear her teeth chattering as her cold body trembles. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I needed to talk to you,” she murmurs.

“And you couldn’t have called me? The roads are crazy, and this storm is supposed to be the worst one of the year.”

“I love you.”

Sarah blurts it out so fast that you think you’re dreaming.

“I— What?”

She tucks a wet clump of strands behind her ear, before grabbing both of your hands into hers. Her thumbs run over your knuckles as she searches for the courage to look at you again.

“You’re the reason I was with John B in the first place. I…I wanted to be close to you, anyway I could, because I thought that you were never going to make your move. You could never say how you felt about me, and then John B did, and I figured…this would be the only way to stay close to you. But I love you, Y/N. Not him.”

Your eyes are welling with tears, and you smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she confirms, her own lips curling up as she watches your eyes sparkle. “It was never him. It was always you.”

You use your intertwined hands to pull her closer. “You better kiss me, then.”

And she does.

sarah tag list (join here!): @maybanksbabe @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @urbestieboo @surftrips

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johnwickb1tsch · 16 days

Text

break me, softly

When your ex Jack Traven pays you a late night visit after a tough case, you can’t turn him away. Jack Traven x Fem!Reader ficlet

warnings: smut. angst. brief mention of hostage situation/death. slight inebriation. fluff. ❤❤❤

For @treedaddymcpuffpuff who whispered in my ear "hey you should watch Speed" and sent me down this rabbit hole (i luv u girl, you're our Keanuverse Guide & Tastemaker!) 😘😘😘 and @scarlettspectra who requested some fluff fic 😘😘😘.

It’s late at night, when you hear the soft knock on your apartment door. Usually, you wouldn’t dream of answering such a thing–a woman living alone, in this city? You’re not looking to get murdered. But something, some feeling from deep in your gut, pulls you out of bed. You walk on bare feet in just your nightie and look through the peephole. Nothing.

You know it’s probably a bad idea, but that uneasiness nags at you still. Not that you’re in danger. That someone needs you. You have a sense about that, after so many years as a nurse. Or maybe, you just always have.

You undo the deadbolts and stick your head out, to see the tall figure of a man retreating down the hall.

You would know that backside anywhere. Those broad shoulders, that trim waist, those long legs…and by the way he’s walking, you can tell he’s a little drunk.

“Jack?”

He freezes in his tracks, clearly debating with himself. Probably wondering what the fuck he’s doing here, and if you’ll tell him to go to hell, after the way he pushed you away three months ago after dating for two whole years.

He turns to face you slowly. You can say a lot of things about Officer Jack Traven–but never that he’s a coward.

“Hey, y/n.”

It’s the first time you’ve seen him, since the day he shattered your world when he broke things off with you. It feels about precisely like being punched in the gut. He’s still so handsome it hurts; those soulful dark eyes, cheekbones to make a fashion model weep, a manly-man’s jawline softened by such a full, sweet mouth. Immediately, upon looking at that face you still love so well, you know something is wrong.

“Are you ok?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then closes it. Takes a deep breath, tries again. Nothing. It’s as good as a five page report, to you. To you, who knows his every gesture, his every tell. For all it’s worth, now.

You already knew, in the back of your mind, that you were still in love with this man. It was like a fine buzzing in your heart you’d managed to push into the background of your day to day. But seeing him again makes it all surge up with a vengeance. You know that being near him again will be like feeding your heart through a paper shredder–slowly. You also know that something terrible must have happened at his work, for him to show up here like this, and so you open the door wider, laying your heart on the sacrificial altar, the way you always do.

“Come on,” you say gently, waving him in. “I’ll take care of you.”

He gives so much of himself, always trying to help everyone else in this big, mean, city. You know he forgets to leave a little fuel in the tank for himself. It’s maybe something the two of you have in common.

You watch as he fights a war within himself, teetering on the balls of his feet, undecided between staying or leaving. In the end, he takes a step towards you, then another. You try not to read too much into that. He’s just here because he’s drunk and feeling vulnerable. It doesn’t really have anything to do with you.

You’re not really sure how this will go. Probably he’ll just come sit on your couch with a beer–you still have his favorite in the fridge–and talk a little. Not about what’s actually bothering him. No, heaven forbid. But circular small talk, to get his mind off the bad thing. It’s something you’ve done a thousand times before.

And yet, when you are standing toe to toe, and he has to crane his neck to look down at you–there’s a dark fire in his eyes, and with a little thrill you feel the urge to flee before his big hands engulf the sides of your face, and his mouth is on yours.

Oh. That’s what you’re doing.

You can’t say you forgot what it’s like to kiss Jack Traven–but maybe the intensity of the memory had faded a little, if for anything out of pure self defense. How could a woman keep her sanity, if she remembered how good he was, if she knew she’d never taste him again? You stand on tiptoe to throw your arms around his neck as he devours you, and he easily picks you up with an arm around your waist, walking the two of you back into your apartment and slamming the door shut with his booted heel.

This. This had never been a problem for the two of you. Passion. It was everything else that got in the way. Most of all, his dangerous job, which though it wore on you, you had never complained about. But he’d seen the way you worried about him, the way it absolutely chewed on your nerves when there was a situation on the news and you didn’t know if he would be coming home that night. You’d been willing to weather that storm for him, but the guilt of demanding that of you ate at his conscience.

He’d broken things off with you, in your own hospital, after he’d taken a bullet in the chest and you didn’t leave his side or really even sleep until he came to. I can’t ask you to keep doing this for me. You deserve better.

You’d protested, of course, but he’d made up his mind.

Until now, apparently, where he is walking you backwards towards your bedroom, half carrying you in the ardor of his embrace. You recognize this need for life-affirming intimacy. You’d gotten to know it well, over the years, and you surrender to the storm, letting him take what he needs. Letting him fist the fabric of your cotton nightie in his big hands, drawing it up over your head before falling on you again, pushing your panties down the curves of your bottom and your thighs.

You always marveled that despite his strength and the things he knows how to do with those hands, he never ever hurt you, not even when he was like this, desperate for your softness, frantic to lose himself inside the momentary bliss your body could bring. He barely has the patience to let you pull off his white t-shirt, or to enjoy the swathes of toned flesh beneath. His belt is flung forgotten to the floor from the moment you pull it from its loops and he picks you up by your thighs, walking you the rest of the way to the bed. Boots are kicked away as his mouth is attached to yours, pants and boxers shed with a sharp push.

You might have been embarrassed, by how ready you are for him, how sopping fucking wet you were for him from the moment you saw him, if you could have formed a coherent thought as his thick tip kisses your entrance, before he absolutely plunges himself inside you. The delicious shock of it steals the breath from you, your soul escaping with a moan, only to be reclaimed with his mouth on yours. He takes you like the ocean, relentless and rolling, filling you with every thrust. It’s gratifying, the animalistic sounds of abandon he makes as he fucks you. If you didn’t know any better–you might have swore you were making love, despite his hedonistic frenzy.

The same way you knew something was wrong in the first second of seeing him in the hallway, you know he’s close to finishing already, his breathing frantic in the bend of your neck, his grip just this side of bruising. He seems to remember that he’s done very little to see to your pleasure, amidst the haze of chasing his own gratification. He sits up on trembling elbows, making to reach between you. “Fuck. I’m sorry, baby. You feel so good.” Maybe it’s ridiculous, that it brings tears to your eyes to hear the endearment. You find you don’t even want to cum, as much as you just want to make this haunted man feel better.

“It’s ok,” you pant in answer, catching his hand to place it on your breast. “Cum for me, Jack. I know you need it.”

He buries his face in the bend of your neck; you’re not sure if the sound he makes is a moan or a sob, as he thrusts as deep as he can inside you, bathing your cervix with the hot flood of his seed. He continues to hold on to you as though you are the last sane thing on this earth, and you let him, your legs still wrapped around his narrow hips, your hands smoothing across the muscles of his broad shoulders.

Only much, much later, does it seem to dawn on him what he’s done–and maybe just who he did it with. He draws back to look at you with concern written in those big brown puppy eyes, smoothing your hair away from your face. You can’t help but close your own lids; jesus, how you missed his touch. You feel utterly breakable in that moment, but he’s the one who needs healing right now, so you get your shit together, gather it all back up tight and shove it down in your lockbox of a heart.

Before he can apologize or say something stupid, you pull him down to rest on your breast, the way you’ve done a hundred times before. Surely the muscle memory of it is as comforting for him as the act in the moment itself. “It’s ok, Jack. Just rest. I’ve got you.”

He sags against you, curling that powerful body around yours–and falls asleep.

You were right, of course. Your heart feels exactly like it’s been fed through a grinder, as you hold this beautiful manchild in your arms, your thighs deliciously sticky with his cum. A part of you hopes that he’ll just sneak out in the morning without waking you. It would almost hurt less, than any excuse he’ll have to offer you, when the sun comes streaming through your window.

***

But when next you wake, it’s not to the sun, or the shift of weight on the mattress while a large man tries to slip out without a sound. It’s to wet kisses upon your neck, and an agonizingly gentle touch sliding down your torso, tracing the ladder of your ribcage and the swell of your belly, before making his way up again.

“You know,” he says softly against your cheek, “you really shouldn’t open the door to anyone in the middle of the night.”

You wonder if he can see you rolling your eyes in the dark. But then his lips touch yours, and the urge to argue with him for argument’s sake dissipates into thin air. Instead you opt for honesty, the spell of intimacy not yet broken in the shadows of what must be early early morning.

“I think…I knew it was you.”

He lets out a shuddering sigh, kissing your jaw, then lower.

“Baby…” It feels so good, to hear him say it like that against your skin. You can almost forget it isn’t true anymore. You’re not his baby. You’re not his anything, even though he’s here in your bed, and his big hand is sliding down your belly again, his fingers combing through your curls. “Let me touch you?”

You really should say no.

“You don’t have to.”

He ducks to suck the soft skin of your breast lightly, then kisses it to soothe the burn. That luscious mouth…god it curls your toes. “I want to. I promise you.”

There’s so much you want to ask him. Things like why? And I thought you didn’t love me anymore? You’ve since reasoned that it’s the only way he could truly bear to break things off, the way he did. You certainly hadn’t had the strength to give him up, no matter what the stress of his occupation wreaked on you.

You don’t have the strength to say no. You do manage not to beg, like the needy little thing you are, with his big body curled over yours. You’ve always felt like nothing could touch you, with him by your side. As it turned out the only thing that could hurt you all along, was him.

You nod your assent before catching his mouth, sliding your tongue against his as his thick fingers explore your puffy slit, still wet from both of your juices. He makes a sound in the back of his throat that lifts every hair on your body, a delicious shudder running through your spine. His strong fingers circle your aching clit, just the way he knows drives you wild. Not too hard, not too soft. Fuck, this man has your number still.

You haven’t been with anyone, since the last time you were with him, despite your well-meaning girlfriends dragging you out to bars and trying to get you to forget this man who left your heart shredded like bomb shrapnel. Because deep down, you knew, you just knew this man ruined you, utterly fucking ruined you for anyone else. Who the fuck could compare? Not some asshole hoping for a one night stand down at TJ’s, that was for sure.

You realize you have tears running down your cheeks, you don’t know how it’s possible for it to be so good and hurt so much all at the same time.

Unfortunately when he moves to kiss your cheek, he notices. “Hey, hey,” he says, his hand stilling between your legs, making your hips writhe with frustration. “You ok?”

“No,” you answer honestly, reaching for him. He has you cradled in those big arms, and you can feel his manhood so firm and silky smooth against your hip. You are not ok, without him inside you right now. “Will you make love to me again?”

He pays you a ghost of that usual blinding smile, a thing a woman would sell her soul for, and it just breaks your heart all over again.

He never really answers you with words. The two of you move with pure magnetism, your leg hooking over his hip, pulling him close, inviting him inside. Without a condom, again, you think as he settles between your thighs, sinking inside you so smoothly. Maybe not smart, even though you're on birth control, but it’s the way you’re meant to be together, raw and no barriers between you. As usual, he fucks you and makes love to you all at the same time, looking into your soul while he does it, and it’s the best thing you’ve ever known. This time you cum together, and maybe it’s a little pathetic, the way you cling to each other in the darkness of your bedroom, like you really can stave off the misery of the outside world with this bit of human intimacy, your bodies inextricably entwined.

You fall asleep together, this time with your head on his chest, and as you drift you decide you’ll wake up and make him breakfast, and you won’t ask him any painful questions about what this means or if he wants you back, or if this is just a comfort fuck and you won’t see him again until the weight of the world gets too much–or maybe never, because this man is bound to find someone to settle down with. Someone he can’t bring himself to let go, the way he did you.

So you are so surprised, when you wake up, and you smell eggs and bacon and something sweet cooking. You stumble into the kitchen to find him in his blue plaid boxers, flipping a pancake, singing under his breath to R.E.M. on the radio playing low. He’s so beautiful it hurts, and it’s like your heart is gripped in an unforgiving fist.

He turns to see you in the doorway and offers you a smile. It’s still not quite the usual 100 watt Jack Traven special–he’s not feeling well enough for that. This man hides nothing, he’s so true, he wears it all on his sleeve for you. You love that so much about him, and it hurts like a knife between the ribs.

“Hey.”

“Hungry?”

“Yeah.”

You shouldn’t feel so shy about walking into your own kitchen.

But you aren’t sure where you stand. Do you kiss him, hug him, the way you want to, the way you used to? Or are you operating under one-night-stand-protocol? Play it cool, act like you barely even like the guy? It’s so fucked up, and you never wanted to be in this position again.

Sensing your hesitance, he crosses the floor to you, engulfing the side of your face in his big hand as he kisses you good morning, like nothing ever changed. “Hey,” he says again, his forehead pressed to yours.

“Jack.”

“Yeah, baby.”

You told yourself you weren’t going to ask painful questions. Remember? Remember that? So you just sigh, and close your eyes, and absorb this moment for what it is. “Do you feel better?” you ask. Another important question.

“Yes and no.”

You sigh again through your nose. The corners of his mouth twitch, because he knows you so well, and that one little gesture conveys a novel to him too.

“Thank you,” he says, for last night, and whatever else, you don’t really know.

“Any time.” You mean it, when you say it.

“Yeah?” There is a hint of his usual sparkle in his eyes as he asks this. And a part of you wants to pick a fight, to say I’m not the one who left. But maybe you have grown up a little, because you bite your tongue for now.

“Yeah.” You reach up to touch his hair, the soft spikes of his buzzcut like velvet beneath your fingers. You know he would have beautiful hair if he grew it out. You’d seen his high-school pictures. He had the potential for hair to make a grown woman weep.

Later, with your mouth full of pancake, you ask gently, “Do you want to talk about it?”

He flexes his jaw, looking out the window. He always bottled things up, before. He didn’t want to burden you with the hard things he saw at work. You didn’t want him to carry it alone. Usually you had to pry it out of him, because of course he refused to see the shrink at work.

You realize you are gobsmack surprised when he actually volunteers, “We had a hostage situation. A woman…died. The bank robber shot her. It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. It was the criminal’s fault. He brought a gun to a bank with the intention to steal money by any means necessary. You did your best.”

Once upon a time, he would have argued with you on that too. His jaw clenches as he thinks about it, argues with you in his mind, at least.

But this time in the end, he closes his eyes, nods. Reaches for your hand across the table. You take it, holding on to him. Those warm, strong fingers wrapped around yours feel like home, and you try not to start crying because you’ve missed him so much.

“Y/n…?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. For pushing you away.”

Once upon a time, you would have said something inane, like that’s ok. You’ve grown as a person too, and this time, you nod, because he does owe you an apology. “Thanks for that.”

“I know…I don’t deserve it. But maybe…if you’d let me…I could make it up to you?”

You close your eyes at hearing that, light headed. You might have fallen out of your chair, if not for his hand anchoring you.

“I would like that,” you admit, giving yourself points for not sounding too pathetic, and crawling across the table through the breakfast dishes to sit in his lap.

Then, he does flash you the 1000 watt Jack Traven smile, and the circuits in your brain melt.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you big idiot.” You’re really not sure if he pulls you, or if you get up and walk, but you find yourself in his lap with your lips on his, his strong arms wrapped around you and his lips on yours. He rocks you like a child, smiling against your mouth between stealing kisses.

“I love you.”

You feel as though the desert of your heart has suddenly undergone a superbloom, the ferocity of your love making you lightheaded.

“Jack…”

“Yeah?” He really is smiling now, in between kissing you, cute little snatches of sweetness all over your face. With hands on his cheeks you catch his lips, smiling against his mouth after a long smooch.

“I love you too. But if you ever break up with me for any reason other than you don’t love me anymore, I might maim you.”

This wins you that radiant smile that curls your toes again. “So much for the Florence Nightingale oath.”

“Leave her out of it, this is between you and me.” He chuckles, and squeezes you again in his big arms.

“Alright. Consider me warned.”

“Good.”

His big hand runs up your thigh, that dark sparkle in his eyes that never fails to take your breath away. “I feel like I should start that making up I have to do here.” Suddenly you find yourself seated on your kitchen table, Jack smiling up at you from between your legs. He reaches for the syrup, and you can’t help but throw your head back with laughter, certain he’s teasing you. “You are going to make such a mess!”

“Honey, you’re the one going to be making the mess.” He has the nerve to smirk up at you before stealing your panties, and smearing syrup up your thighs.

#jack traven #jack traven x you #jack traven x y/n #jack traven x reader #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #speed #keanuverse #speed 1994

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ofstarsandvibranium · 11 months

Text

My You-niverse: Marc Spector & Steven Grant

Fandom: Oscar Isaac

Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader

Summary: You and America get stuck portal jumping until you reach your universe again. In the meantime, you meet various versions of your husband.

A/N: the last chapter is finally here! thanks to all of you who enjoyed this series!

Series Masterlist

When you wake up, you're at the Sanctum. You know from how the room is decorated. Your body feels heavy, like it's made of lead. You wiggle your fingers and toes, trying to bring some circulation back. With a groan, you're slowly pushing yourself up into a sitting position.

You look to your left and see Marc resting his head on the bed. You're sure his neck and back are probably hurting from the position. His snores make you smile and you decide not to wake him.

Slowly and cautiously, you drag yourself out of bed. You stagger a bit, nearly falling to your knees, but you catch yourself on the bed.

The movement of the mattress wakes Marc up. His head shooting up and his eyes rapidly blinking. When he looks at the empty bed and then you standing beside it, he's on his feet.

"Shit, baby, what're you doin' outta bed?" he rushes around the bed to your side, holding you up at the waist.

You shake your head, "Marc, I'm fine. I-I need to use the bathroom."

"Could've woken me," he mumbles in disapproval as he guides you to the attached bathroom.

"Didn't wanna wake you. Seemed like you needed the sleep. Speaking of, how long have I been out."

"About a week."

"What?!" You look at him in shock.

"Strange says all of the multiverse hopping took a toll on you mentally and physically. We've been keeping an eye out on you. Strange has been a lot of help."

"And America? How is she?"

"She's been visiting you every day after her lessons with Wong. Other than that, she's still doing her thing."

You nod in approval, "Good. I'm glad she's moving on."

Marc proceeds to stay in the bathroom with you as you do your business. He keeps a careful eye on you, leaning against the sink, arms crossed over his chest, with a stern look on his face.

When you finish up and begin washing your hands, arms wrap around your waste and Steven's voice fills your ears, "How are you doing, lovey?"

You softly smile at him through the mirror's reflection, "I'm good." you dry your hands and turn to him, "How are you?"

"I've been worried sick for the entire week, but I'm glad to see you're okay," he cups your face and places a gentle kiss to your lips, "Do you remember anything?"

Blue. Laurent. Nathan. Bud. Santi. Richard. Leto. Poe.

You nod, "Yeah. I remember everything. I remember them all."

"Is that a good thing?" Steven asks, pure curiosity on his face.

"I-I'm not sure. I-I feel kind of...sad? I feel like I've lost someone and I have this sense of yearning but...but they're not mine to yearn for."

Steven looks at you in a way that you know he understands what you mean and yet he's not mad at you, "It's okay, Y/N. You're here. And those versions of us, they have you too. We're all okay, lovey. We'll all be okay." he pulls you into a hug, a hand cradling your head as it rests against him.

You let out a deep breath of relief as you let yourself melt into Steven's warmth.

_________________________________

"Y/N!" America cries out as she throws herself at you and you catch her in your arms, "I'm so glad you're awake!"

You chuckle at the young teen, "Hey, America. How are you?"

"I've been good. Definitely getting better at honing in on my powers! Wanna see?"

Marc steps in, "I think it's too soon for that, kid."

"Right. Got it. Sorry." she looks at you guiltily and deflates a bit.

"Next time. I'll be at full strength and fully ready to take on the multiverse this time." you nudge her and give her a smirk, letting her know that you two were okay.

It's been two days since you've woken up. Each day, a bit of your strength comes back. Eventually, you'll be good as new. Marc and Steven has been great at helping you get back to it. You see the love and devotion in their eyes, and you're forever grateful that, whether it's in this universe or the next, you'll always be loved by some version of them.

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #marvel #marvel au #lani writes

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unreliablesnake · 10 months

Text

Goodbye (Vincent de Gramont x reader)

Note: A follow-up drabble for this.

For all you knew, Vincent hadn’t signed the papers before you left him for good. You could only hope he would come to his senses and do it before your lawyer arrived the next day, but either way, you knew he would do it once he accepted you weren't coming back.

You were heading to your seat in first class, already sipping a glass of champagne like you always did during these flights. But today you truly needed some alcohol. Yes, it was you who left him, but it still hurt to know it was over. You wanted to make it work, you truly did your best to accept him with every flaw of his, but you reached a dead end with him.

While the other passengers began to arrive, you pulled out your ebook reader and dived into the book you had begun to read a few days ago. It was a romance novel, although there were comedic elements that made it truly entertaining. It was nice to get lost in a world where a relationship was working and everyone was happy.

One of the flight attendants suddenly began to explain that there will be an unexpected delay, but you didn't make much of it until it was announced that the flight was cancelled and everybody had to get off of the plane. A mechanical issue, they said. But you had a bad feeling, that maybe it wasn't entirely true.

A man your age you had met on the plane kept you company as you made your way back, but you choked on your carefree laughter when your eyes landed on Vincent. You should have known, the whole last minute mechanical failure was so fake in retrospect. They would have known sooner, not two minutes before take off.

“Who is he?” he demanded, his eyes fixed on the poor guy on your side. “I thought you said you weren't seeing anyone.”

“I'm not seeing anyone, we only met on the plane.”

The man next to you shifted uncomfortably before saying, “I'll leave you two alone.”

“Thanks. Good luck with the wedding,” you told him with a warm smile, even waving as he walked away.

Your back was to your dear husband, and you were thinking about leaving him there. You didn't want to talk to him. There was absolutely nothing to talk about. Well, except for two things–the cancelled flight and the divorce papers.

With a sigh, you turned around and gave him a tired look. “Did you have anything to do with the cancellation of my flight?” you asked as you stepped a little closer.

“I can't just let you go like this, I had to do something,” was all he said, as if it was perfectly normal. “I won't sign those papers either. I love you. I don't want you to leave me.”

“Vincent, it's over. I don't want anything from you anymore.”

He bit on his lower lip before putting his hands on his hips and turning away for a moment. You could tell it truly hurt him. That wasn't your intention, you always hoped he would take it well. But he clearly didn't. All of a sudden you felt guilty for doing this to him.

But no, you couldn't give in. You couldn't let him manipulate you and make you stay somehow. The only direction you were willing to go from this airport was New York. Or hell, any other city in the States as long as you could leave. Paris was beautiful, but it wasn't your home anymore.

“Just one more night,” he suddenly said. “Stay for one more night and think it through.”

With a sigh, you put your hand on his arm as you stepped closer. “I'm not going anywhere with you. I loved you, I truly did, but it's over. Sign the papers. Please,” you asked him.

Silence fell between you, but you could tell he was about to say something. He probably wanted to object, but he didn't speak up because he now knew you wouldn't stay. But then he took a deep breath and said, “If you ever change your mind, if you want to come back, I'm here. I'll be waiting.”

Smiling at the thought, you stood on your toes and softly kissed him. “You deserve someone who loves you. I'm not that person anymore.”

“I'll miss you, love” he told you as he pulled you into a tight hug.

#marquis de gramont x reader #vincent de gramont x reader #marquis vincent de gramont x reader #vincent de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont #marquis de gramont #john wick 4 #jw4

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silversweetpea · 2 years

Text

A Promise Made

word count: 1543

Summary: It dawns on him, in that moment, that you are much more fragile than he had expected. And equally so that this revelation unsettles him.

Warnings: Offscreen injury mentions, Reader gets lightheaded and slightly dizzy from blood loss.

Author’s Note: It is four am and I would like to imagine a bit of a protective situation as a bedtime story thanks. Also I’m not sure how I feel about this writing because I’m worried that the style is too similar to other writings i’ve done but again, it’s four am, I don’t know if I can trust my own opinions here.

❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿

Dream was a difficult man shaped amalgamation to read, but that never stopped you from trying. Telling the difference between jaw clench of amusement and jaw clench of anger never got easier in the months since Johanna had called in an old favor for some help and you had met him, but you had a feeling you knew what emotion it was that darkened his gaze in this moment.

“I’m fine.” You said again, and you had to commend yourself on keeping the shake from your voice. The nightmare hadn’t seriously hurt you, part of you wondered if it would have though had Dream not found you when he did. Splitting up had seemed like a good idea at the time, it had made more sense to cover more ground, ask more people who they may or may not know the locations of. Even nightmares had friends, after all.

Dream hadn’t moved an inch in the chair beside your bed since you woke swaddle in the comforters. You didn’t know the details of what had happened after you passed out, there was just a vague memory of fear and then safety.

“Dream-” His gaze didn’t move from the bandages across your chest. A precaution, nothing more, but the wrappings were large enough to peek up under the collar of your shirt. There was a thought that maybe he hadn’t heard you that was gone as quick as it came when he spoke.

“When you are healed, I will have Mathew escort you home. Your assistance is no longer required.” The safety you had felt was a distant memory replaced with a chill.

“Excuse me?”

“I will find the rogue nightmare on my own.” Dream stood, eyes snapping shut. There was something in his features, or maybe the way that he held himself, that made your entire being bristle.

“The whole reason you asked Johanna for help was because you couldn’t.” Your body ached ever so slightly as you forced yourself into a sitting position. The sound of the bed creaking seemed to startle him, those eyes you had such complicated feelings for finally meeting yours. “This is ridiculous I’ve been more than helpful in this whole ordeal and you’re going to just send me home because of a scratch?”

“(y/n),” He took a step closer to the bed, hand reaching up as if to usher you back down to rest. A motion that never quite finished as his hand hovered in the space between you. It took you only another second to force yourself to your feet and enter his personal space.

“No, I want to see this through. I told you I would help and I’m going to.” You had never thought of the king of dreams and nightmares as a particularly intimidating person. Sure, he was brooding, but in a wet cat sort of way. Tall and lanky and dark, yet never scary, not when you had seen him so gentle with his friends.

“I do not want your help, nor do I need it any longer.” The words that should sting instead make you scoff. You were nearly toe to toe with him now, the hand that had hovered so noncommittedly in the air still airborne.

“And why’s that? Did you suddenly find her while I was passed out here?” It occurred to you for the first time that Dream was taller than he had ever been. He seemed to tower over you. It was harder to ignore the chill you felt this time than when you had been wrapped in blankets. “Or maybe the asshole that tried to kill me had a bit more information than I thought and you know exactly where she is now?”

“This is not up for discussion.” His narrowed gaze draws out a scoff.

“You’re being ridiculous. You can choose not to work with me but I’m going to help you.” The room spins ever so slightly as you turn to leave the room. You weren’t sure where you were going to go yet but you were sure you would figure it out as you went. The library maybe? Lucienne was busy but she knew more about the kingdom than anyone right now.

You had barely made it to the door before you could feel the soft pressure of a hand around your wrist.

“It would help me more,” Dream’s voice was soft and strained. As if the things he was saying pained him to put to words. “to know that you are safe.”

The room spins slightly harder and it occurs to you that maybe the nightmare had gouged you a bit more than you thought. The turn to face him is slower than any you have ever made and behind you you can glimpse the window. It isn’t quite raining out but the sky is unnaturally dark, clouds swirling like the stars in his eyes.

“What?” You can’t remember if blood loss can cause you to mishear people. You don’t want to risk embarrassing yourself even if it’s not.

“I could not protect you in my realm. How can I trust in my ability to do the same outside of it?” The silence feels deafening, like a creature with its own presence trying to pry the two of you apart. You try not to focus on its weight, however, instead distinctly aware of the fact that Dream is still holding your wrist. His touch is cooler than you had thought it would be but not quite unpleasant. In fact its quite the opposite.

“And you think sending me away will keep me safer than if I stayed with a literal king of dreams and nightmares? Really?” Your voice tremors and your skin feels electric from the contact. You want to rip your hand from his grasp and take his hand in both of your own at the same time. “Do you know how many beings out there would love to catch me alone right now?”

“You will not be alone, you will have Constantine.” Dream’s voice was barely more than a whisper. You wouldn’t think his lips had moved at all had you not been watching his face so carefully.

"You’re being an idiot,” The clouds are darker now, you hadn’t thought it possible but the sky seems to be absorbing the light that tries to warm it.

“You need to rest.” For the first time since you met Dream seems to be genuine in asking instead of assuming you will follow through with what he says. It almost makes up for the way that his eyes flit to your point of connection and slowly releases his grasp.

“Do you promise to be here when I wake up?” The bedroom is suffocatingly small in this moment, not helped by the waves of nausea rushing over your person.

“Why must you be so obstinate?” For what is meant to be an insult, Dream’s gaze and and tone are softer than one would expect. Or maybe not. For all the times the two of you have bickered you’re not sure you can remember ever hearing any sort of heat in his words towards you.

“Its the only way I can get you to notice me.” Usually your remark would earn you a slight smile, maybe a particularly strong exhale if Dream is particularly amused. Now though, you see only concern.

“I notice you regardless of your temperament.” You’re not even aware you’re reaching out until the man startles ever so slightly. Heaviness weighs upon your body and your grip tightens just barely. Just enough to try and pull him back from the way his thoughts visibly surround him.

“Dream,” Blue eyes search your own but you’re not sure what he’s looking for. His height is returning to that which you’re familiar with and its strange to see. To watch him shrink and soften before you all the while holding his hand in your grasp. Even as Dream nods, a just barely there movement you’re not even sure of at first, you think that he looks better this way. Familiar is good on him. So is Kind.

It’s easier to lean into him than you had thought it would be. The hand you insist on holding begins to gently steer you both back towards the bed, his free hand circling to hover over your lower back.

“Rest, we can continue this conversation when you awaken.” You’re scared to loose contact with him in case your...whatever Dream is at this point, will slip away in a moments notice. Even as he convinces you to sit you’re not entirely convinced that he’s not just waiting for a moment to usher you back to the waking.

“Do you promise?” Its your turn to whisper as you allow him to help you back to bed. For a heart stopping moment he stands at your bedside and you think he’s leaving.

And then, the chair is pulled closer to the bed, enough so that his knees touch the side of the mattress when he sits.

“I give you my word.” Dream’s voice is warm and soothing as hot chocolate on a winter night and from the window behind you you notice sunlight begin to filter through the window.

#Dream x reader #Morpheus x reader #Dream x you #Morpheus x you #Dream of the endless x reader #Dream of the endless x you #Morpheus fluff #Dream fluff #Dream of the endless fluff #Morpheus headcanons #Dream headcanons #Dream of the endless headcanons #Morpheus imagine #Dream imagine #Dream of the endless imagine

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kanene-yaaay · 30 days

Text

Warm, Soft and all the other things that I can only be with you

Kanene's notes: Ok, I just had NO IDEA that I would come to like Jiang Cheng as much as I do when I first watched mdzs. Maybe I should've realized when his first apparition is LITERALLY coming right when Jin Ling is being defeated by Wei Wuxian and calls him saying that >:[[ his jiujiu will kill him and aaaaaa Wei Wuxian asks who his uncle is and then KJHGFDEFGH JIANG CHENG LITERALLY APPEARS FROM NOTHING SAYING "I'm his uncle. Any last words?" BRUHH. He just breaks me. aughhh ALL OF THEM MAKE ME GO INSANE!!!

Anyway this story isn't about any of this. It's about Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen being absurdly in love and playful and cute and silly <3 All the thanks and applause and hugs for @squeaky-n-blushy for spending literally HOURS screaming about mdzs+tickle scenarios with lil ol me because it helped me so much to brainstorm kjhgfdfghjk

Warnings: This is a bit of more intense story than the usual that I write, so be warned. There's angst and lots of fluff. Also a suggestive joke (LOOKING AT YOU WEI WUXIAN) and some making out in the fic but it's really not the main focus here and a quick thing. Lots of teases, tickles, kisses and more teases. Especially about losing control. Romantic setting. Around 13.000 words. Mainly Ler!Jiang Cheng and Lee!Lan Xichen.

[~*~]

Jiang Cheng was not jealous.

He was fine. Great, even.

He was just... curious.

There were a plentiful of words that could be used to describe Wei Wuxian.

Insufferable. (Strong). Troublesome. (Joyful). Annoying. (Smart). Stupid. (Traitor). Stubborn. (Sacrificial). Careless. (Mischievous). Impulsive. (Brillant). (Genius). (Caring). (Important). (Family). (Stupid). (Stupid). (Stupid).

(Brother).

And, if needed, Jiang Cheng had all of those and much more that he used on a regular basis every time they got stuck in one of their usual bickering matches, both of them still learning how to tip toe the lines between hurt and healing, family and enemies.

It was hard. Confusing. Good. Exhausting. Raw. They would fight and punch each other across the bonds during a heated match - that were actually growing less and less frequent, thankfully - or extend an olive branch in each other’s direction and not comment on how small it looked in the ocean between them.

But both of them grew up in the Lotus Pier and no water body could ever scare them. Bandages and cuts decorating their hands as they kept building the bridges and boats to forgive and find each other someday.

Day after day.

Jiang Cheng shook his head, dissipating those overly sensitive thoughts. All of that was irrelevant and not at all where he wanted to get. Unfortunately, by doing so there wasn’t anything else left to distract him from the little lightheaded, annoyed (flustered) feeling that was taking over all his senses after what happened.

(What just happened?)

He clenched his jaw and huffed, still confused, still annoyed. His steps sounded firm and clear as he kept his determined stride to the room he already knew so well, not even glancing at the young cultivators that knew better than to interrupt him when he looked like this, even if they seemed much more relaxed with his presence at the Cloud Recess after seeing it so often.

Never, ever Jiang Cheng could describe Wei Wuxian, the Patriarch Yilling, one of the most feared cultivators across all the sects, the black spot in Lan Quiren's golden record, the most irresponsible uncle and brother this world had ever seen, as embarrassed.

The scene had hit him like a brick and Jiang Cheng didn’t even mean to see it in the first place! He could pretty much actually go on with the rest of his entire life without ever picturing for a single second what Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan liked to do in their freetime together.

Nowadays, however, both of them spend more time over each other than away, absolutely shamelessly, with no care about who was watching or where they were. With Wei Wuxian drapping himself over his husband's lap during dinners and conferences and Lan Zhan spending every night when the other is away in a hunt or a visit to the Yunmeng sect playing his guqin melancholically through the night and the early hours of the morning to express his deep feeling of longing and pining.

(Thanks everything that Jiang Cheng was never actually there to witness the last one, being an information that Lan Huan shared with him recently with an amused smile on his lips. Because he was pretty sure that if he was living in Gusu Lan and had to endure their constant show of unyielding affection for each other he would end up breaking that damn instrument into pieces.)

So, it was no surprise that Jiang Cheng was forced to witness his brother’s love life first hand again. Because he had been a fool who accepted to have a tea over Wei Wuxian’s house and even more of a fool to believe that his brother, the very one who called him in the first place, would be actually prepared to receive him on the time he himself choose and perhaps be there to show him at least a hint of respect and hospitality that the leader of Yunmeng Jiang Sect deserved and open that goddamn door at once!

(And, yes, maybe he was still jittery about Wei Wuxian’s death. Maybe when he heard the cultivator of resentful energy shout - even though loud noises are forbidden in the Cloud Recess - and the sound of something heavy falling following suit his mind got somehow clogged and his knocking louder and more incisive the longer no one answered him. Maybe he forgot for a moment that they were in the Gusu Lan Sect and, for the first time in a long while, it was only him and Wei Wuxian against the world again. This time he would not run the fuck away.)

However, when the door opened - a better description would be “was forcefully ripped away from his path, but that was irrelevant - the scene that greeted him had absolutely nothing to do with blood or pain or any kind of danger.

(Not one that Wei Wuxian wasn’t more than used with, at least.)

“What” his voice trembled, no longer with a jittery feeling, but with a barely concealed annoyance. The electricity cracking from Zidian danced now in his arm for an entire different reason than getting ready for a fight. “Is happening here?”

Wei Wuxian squealed on the floor, squirming on the ground like a worm on a rainy day as his husband’s hands danced dedicatedly on his torso at a tickly pace.

“Punishment.” Lan Zhan answered, stoic and direct as ever, totally impassive under Cheng’s blasting glare. Especially because he didn't see it, not even bothering to look up from his position, gaze clued on Wei Wuxian’s face almost hypnotized, as if it was the only image that could ever matter in the world.

(Urgh.)

“A-Cheng!”

It was ridiculous, really, how only that (and who knew he still had in him to call Jiang Cheng in such an affectionate form) was enough to make his eyes immediately snap into Wei Wuxian’s direction, something relaxing in him when he acknowledged the usual playful tune he already knew too well.

“What.”

“Hehehelp me!”

Jiang Cheng could feel an artery pulsating in his forehead, they both falling easily in their usual push and dance. “Stop being dramatic, he is barely touching you. Get up and use your hands!”

“No, I can't!” His whine was quickly taken over by more giggles, his entire body contorting in protest at the playful attack as he kept his dramatic wailing. “I will rip Lan Zhan's forehead ribbon! Please, A-Cheng!”

Jiang Cheng almost had a whiplash at how quickly his head turned to look at Lan Zhan’s naked forehead and then at Wei Wuxian's hands, seeing that they were in fact bonded by the delicate, white band that the Lan Sect was known for.

The forehead ribbon. A sacred symbol of resilience and restraint, an extension of yourself that could only be touched and freed by your close family and your significant other, being used as an illusion of a bondage in a meaningless punishment of a childish game.

Lan Zhan’s expression continued just the same as it always did, impassive and serious. Yet, he managed to look extremely smug all the same. He was fully aware of the trap he just put his husband into, knowing Wei Wuxian would rather endure far worse tortures than tickling instead of giving the ribbon left in his care a single strain or tear.

Shameless.

He scoffed.

(Jiang Cheng ignored how he himself felt when Lan Huan let him touch his own forehead ribbon. He took the ends of the white fabric and freely gave them to Jiang Cheng in one of their quiet evenings, only so they could be woven into the braids of the Yumneng Sect he was occupied in replicating, eyes focused and movements certain as he styled the other’s long, beautiful black hair. How soft and small it felt in his palms. The meaning of that act. How reverent and careful Jiang Cheng was during the entire process, holding the white fabric into his calloused hands while his fingertips and soul trembled with emotion.)

And then those two were just playing around with theirs. They really have no shame!

“Always asking me to clean up your messes, fight for this one yourself! Don’t you remember that you called me here to have tea in the first place? Have you really lost all the sense of respect?”

Wei Wuxian only giggled harder. Whether it was because he always thought it was fun how upright Jiang Cheng was about both of their reputations and how easy it had always been to rile him up about it or because Lan Zhan now changed his absolute nonsense of a tickle attack to focus on his sides, it was uncertain.

“Don’t be so grumpy, A-Cheng!” He squeaked loudly when Lan Zhan tweaked his lowest rib (of course he discovered about that specially ticklish spot, Wei Wuxian had always been so obvious about it, crackling and squirming like crazy when Jiang Cheng did no much than just glaze over it). It didn’t take long before the new sound was completely engulfed by a new round of even more uncontrollable snickers, his legs kicking desperately with energy. “Your face will get stuck in a frown forever! Like a sour plum!”

And, of course he would use his every ounce of oxygen to tease him. Jiang Cheng opened his mouth to replicate.

“Mn.” Lan Zhan interrupted. (Was that an agreement?!) “You’re early.”

The leader from the Yumeng sect crossed his arms defensively, refusing to look too much into the meaning of the other’s words. Another scowl formed in his face. “Of course I am early. Like an actual adult that has more responsibilities and matters to attend to than to get into childish games like tickle fights.”

If that could even be considered a tickle fight at all. It was nothing like the wars he and Wei Wuxian used to get when they were kids, far away from their parents and with too much energy, time and laughter to spare. More often than not they would be rolling on the soft soil or giving the other a surprise ambush in the middle of the piers, squeezing, digging and tickling anywhere they could reach. Teasing, taunting and threatening each other with every sound and laughter. Using all the tricks and pages on the book to get the upper hand for at least a few giddy, breathless seconds. Big smiles, warm hearts and adrenaline running freely in their bones for hours with no end until they both laid exhaustively on the ground, accidentally rolled into one of the lakes or Shiejie came to call them for dinner.

Jiang Cheng watched as the delicate hands rested on the other’s sides and continued to softly scribble non stop on the lowest ribs over and over again, taking turns before quickening their pace and making We Wuxian trash from a side to another with a high pitched ‘eee’ sound until it slowed the rhythm to a light plucking of strings, lightly pressing each spot and barely vibrating there before jumping away.

“Not a tickle fight.” The Lan enlightened. “Punishment.”

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! No! Please, have mercy. Take pity on your poor husband!”

It was like Jiang Cheng couldn’t pry his eyes away, watching as Lan Wangji calmly run the tip of his fingers up and down the others’ ticklish sides, repeating the cycle for a couple more of times, like a boat letting itself being dragged by the slow pace of the river in a calm day, completely unfazed by his husband’s increasing maddened snickers, his tune starting to border on hysterical.

For a moment, the fingers curled into claws and Jiang Cheng thought that he would actually use an efficient, honest and true tickle attack, finally kneading on the skin and letting the crackles and squeals fill the air with their cacophony.

His hopes, however, seemed unfounded when the Lan just continued his soft touches, now using more of his nails to create an unbearable, ticklish feeling than only his fingertips and successfully pull more squeals and squeaks with such a move.

(And, if his own ticklish sides tingled in sympathy that was literally nobody's business and a secret that will die and be buried with him.)

Jiang Cheng finally snapped.

“That is not even the proper way you do it!” He did not get close and demonstrated his point, of course. Because he… (surely wouldn’t be welcomed to) he wasn’t a kid anymore and knew he was right.

Yet, his hands still gesticulated around, antsy.

(Wanting to grab, wanting to dig, wanting to squeeze, to attack and win and listen and never let go again. To feel the taste of the victory of a brawl that is meaningless and only in playful fun, again. To hear screams of laughter and not of fear, to perform with the crackles and shrieks and giggles as the only instrument he was ever actually skilled. An especial melody of affection that needed no words and even he could learn how to play.)

Jiang Cheng pushed those thoughts deep down and continued.

“You’re not even giving any attention to his hips! It’s his most ticklish, weak, defenseless and easy spot ever!” He ignored the protesting, giggly shout from Wei Wuxian and continued, forcing himself to focus on his words and not on the natural answering smirk trying to take over the corner of his lips. “You just need to knead there for a few minutes and then he will be gone. Besides, when you add raspberries to it he’ll laughs so much that you will actually be able to shut him up for once. That is a proper tickle attack. With this, you’re just being lazy!”

Purposely, he pointed to Lan Zhan’s administrations that now consisted in sweetly rubbing his thumbs on Wei Ying’s highest ribs, happily following his torso as it shook with the barely concealed chuckles and tried to wiggle away from the touch. A lazy job indeed. “You’re barely even touching him at all! That is not even tickling!”

“Oh, it tickles!” Wei Wuxian whined, words were almost completely lost with how much he was giggling. His arms trembled with the force to not slam down when Lan Zhan used a single finger to calmly poke and scratch his armpits, more than unfazed at both of the Yunmeng siblings' outburst.

Actually, if Jiang Cheng squinted his eyes, he could actually imagine a challenging glint when those golden eyes quickly stared at him for a second.

“It really tickles! It tickles so, so much!”

For a flash Jiang Cheng saw himself marching determinately at him, sitting on the ground and then diving to dig on Wei Wuxian’s hips non stop. Remind him what is actually a tickle attack so he would actually agree with his point and not poke fun at him just this once. Use the techniques that he took years to perfect and his muscles still remembered perfectly even when his mind refused to. Watch as that smug air in Lan Wangji changed to surprise when he got Wei Wuxian to really laugh and show all of them how right he was.

He crossed his arms even tighter around himself, growling harder and looking in another direction. His feet continued locked on the ground.

Unfortunately, Lan Zhang took the silence as an opportunity.

“Wei Ying is very cute and beautiful like this. Red and happy.”

“Lan Zhan! Warnings! You can’t say things like that without warning me first.”

Jiang Cheng stopped right in his tracks and slowly turned to look at Wei Wuxian, time slowing as he realized what Lan Wangji had just said, barely processing the rest of their conversation.

“Besides, I can think of something else that makes me very red and happy- Lan Zhan, no!”

“Shameless.”

“Husband, please, you’re killing meee!”

“Wei Ying.”

“Wait, wait, not there!”

It was true.

Jiang Cheng's eyes widened, but the image in front of him didn’t change. The other was right.

Wei Wuxian was blushing in embarrassment.

The color was not a fruit of his loud, unrestrained laughter, because for the last minutes all he did was giggle and snicker non stop, with plenty of oxygen and teases filling his lungs. It was not the result of any kind of flirt because Wei Wuxian took those as a challenge that he knew he would always win. It was not a make up he tried with Shijie. A natural consequence of spending an entire day under the sun training with his sword. It was nothing else. No other explanation besides the fact that, after thirty years, Jiang Cheng finally saw his brother get flustered.

Embarrassed.

Shy, even.

For the second time in his life, Jiang Cheng found Lan Wangji leaving him without words.

With a whoosh, he was out of the room.

[~*~]

“Good afternoon, Jiang Cheng.”

As it always did, a pleasant shiver ran on his body when Lan Xichen called him. All of his previous thoughts disappearing immediately from his head, his usual frown naturally losing the heat and annoyance as he looked at the other.

Lan Huan looked as ethereal and beautiful as ever, the white robes and blue hues pooling like waves at his feet and around his straight posture as he wrote on his desk, probably answering letters from other sects and solving administration matters. His hair was slightly messed and he was only in his inner robes, completely comfortable and domestic, not batting a single eye when Jiang Wanyin barged right in.

Even after being together so long, the scene still looked gorgeous as it always did. Like it came right out a scenery painted in a fan that you hid in your robes and carried close to your heart. A picture drawn straight from the purest jade. He had seen it plenty of times before and hoped to continue to do so for much more.

It left Jiang Cheng breathless.

“I see you’re back early.”

And just like that, his breath and frown were back again. The one in purple robes scoffed and closed the door. He headed to the bed, sitting there with a grunt.

“Not in the mood to watch Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji declare their undying love for each other for the hundredth time of the day.”

Lan Huan chuckled. It rang sweet like the bells the Yunmeng sect used to expurge curses and clean the mind. “I see. Perhaps it’s time to start closing your eyes, then?”

But the light tease didn’t actually register for him, because for a moment he looked at the other and another scene appeared in his mind as a flash.

Lan Xichen’s smile growing bigger, wobbling at the corners as his controlled chuckles were transformed into bubbly giggles and loud snickers, his entire face covered by a layer of red that spread in a beautiful hue from his cheeks to the tip of his ears, his eyes - teary and brilliant and so full of love and feelings - watching him in excitement, protests that held no true meaning falling freely from his lips and locking Jiang Cheng’s gaze forever on him with how melodious it was.

As it was usual, his body and mouth were already acting even before his own mind catched up with it.

“I want to try something new.” He listened his own voice saying. Steps steady and determined carried him to the sect leader Lan and pulled him to his feet, basically dragging him back to his bed.

Lan Xichen didn’t yelp, but let out a tiny surprised sound when Jiang Cheng shoved (much gentler than anyone could ever believe him of being) him on the mattress, quickly straddling him and sitting on his thighs, storming gray eyes looking at him intensely, watching his every twitch and expression in search for any kind of discomfort.

Of course, realizing that only made Lan Xichen melt, following the other’s lead easily.

(Not blindly, of course. )

(He sometimes wonders if he will ever be able to do so, ever again, but those are thoughts for other moments.)

So he tilted his head and questioned to those brilliant eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

“I want…” And his face morphed, never losing its lines of determination and decision, but now being tinted in red as Jiang Cheng looked away from him, a very lovely blush taking over his face. His jaw locked and words quieter, as if they were being pushed through his teeth. There was shyness in his tune. “To tickle you.”

“Oh.”

Lan Xichen tried to not sound too teasy, but he couldn’t really hide the playful amusement taking over his tune, his expression, his gaze, his everything after such an adorable admission.

He didn’t really know what sputtered his lover’s mood all of sudden, but interacting with Wei Wuxian and his own brother always left Jiang Wanyin’s emotions all over the place. If what his beloved needed after this afternoon was to have him laughing hysterically until he was a mess, completely putty and willing under his strong and trustworthy hands, Lan Xichen hardly had any opposition to this.

(Which wasn’t to say that he wouldn’t look into some sweet… justice, later. Revenge is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, afterall.)

Tickling was always a concept that interested him immensely. The laughter full of joy and the touches that were both incredibly warm and completely unbearable, together with the playfulness of the teases and the care intertwined in every note of those steps made his heart softer and his stomach flutter pleasantly everytime such bonding activity was involved. Especially when it came to Jiang Cheng.

“Alright.” He said. “I won’t hold back, then.”

“You better not.” The one in purple bit back, but his words held no heat and there was a grateful line softening all of the hard edges in his body. He positioned his hands on Lan Huan’s ribs - a good starting point, not too ticklish so he would lose all his energy right in the beginning and yet effective enough that just with a few moments of drilling his laughter would already be bubbling out of his lips.

Jiang Cheng felt how Lan Xichen tensed instinctively under him and he curled his fingers close, just enough for his nails would graze on his skin, actually giving him a reason to tense up this time and successfully pulling a squirm out of the Lan.

Perfect. He just needed to keep going like that. Soft and light. See for himself what is so special about this technique that it’s worth giving up the adrenaline of seeing someone become undone with only a few touches, to watch them get hysterical, loud, free with the more effective and energetic tickly ministrations. See how long would it take for his lover to become a total mess, to completely lose the battle against the sensations and just let himself be lost in a sea of giggles and blushes.

Exactly. Just like that.

Soft and light.

Simple and clear as water.

His fingers didn’t want to move.

That was the thing, wasn’t it?

Jiang Cheng wasn’t gentle. Nothing about him was soft, or light, or caring. His fingers were calloused and his skin thick after years of handling Zidian and its electricity, of carrying oars and rowing around the countless rivers in Lotus Pier and holding his weight in fights since he was a child, not at all skilled in the finest arts such as playing instruments skillfully like Lan Huan or painting beautiful landscapes as Nie Huaisang.

His hands were the reason of more pain and tears than laughter and happiness. He was Sandu Shengshou and he carried that mantle with pride. It's what made him survive after the Wen’s massacre of his clan. It's what brought his entire sect rising back again, strong and new from the ashes and fire as he maintained every building, every alliance, every battle to prove their worth with his own sweat and blood, clawing, tearing and snarling his way up, up, up. Until Yunmeng was back to be one of the four most powerful and influential sects again. Until him, A-Ling and the entire world of cultivation had more than smoke and destruction to remember his family by. Until the other’s pity became respect and fear. It was what had been necessary at the time. He did what he had to.

(It was what destroyed one of the last remnants of his family and pushed his brother far and away. What left him angry and frustrated behind, hitting back at anything that got too close, completely alone in the world except for a nephew that he had to raise, too young to even remember his parents. It was what consumed his every action and every thought and every lashing until there was nothing left except hope and resentment.

And yet… He was still here. Trying. His nephew was now the leader of his own sect. Yet, he was blessed with Lan Xichen. Yet, his sect respects and grows under his direction and the rivers continue to flow and the lotus to bloom totally uncaring for the tribulations of his mind. Yet, his brother is finally back and they are still trying to fix all of that.)

(Trying.)

A hand pulled him right out of his merciless thoughts, smothering the hard lines of his frown. Lan Xichen’s eyes immediately found his own, staring at his surprised face for some seconds before lifting his torso and placing gentle kisses on his front, following the path of warmth and electricity that his touch had already started.

The care and intimacy made Jiang Cheng scoff and frown again but now for an entirely different reason, momentarily rendered unable to move to hide his flaming face until the other decided that all the lines of his expression had been thoroughly kissed and smothered enough, no more darkness or doubt filling his gaze.

Clear enough from his previous thoughts, that only made him get even more determined about his decision, not shying away from the leader from Gusu Lan’s sect when those brown eyes focused on him, plenty comfortable to just lay there and exchange silences until Jiang Cheng could gather and organize his thoughts.

“I want to be gentle.” He finally spit, words tumbling out of his lips before he could take them back.

The eyes crinkled on the corners and seemed to shine brighter in understanding and then something else, so strong that made it impossible for him to keep holding his gaze, feeling strangely bashful under it. The feared Sandu Shengsou humphed and turned away his gaze, again.

…That wouldn’t work. He had to be able to watch and analyze his Lan Huan’s every tiny reaction, every quiet sound and every hint of movement to map all his best spots and what tickling worked best, with this new technique. He may not be totally sold to this entire idea of “soft touches” yet, but that was no excuse to not do a decent job.

Jiang Cheng had never half assed any of the things he set his mind to do and he isn’t about to start doing that now.

He wasn’t sure of how successful he would be in that, however, when Lan Huan’s gaze kept capturing and rendering him defenseless with those beautiful stares again and again.

“Close your eyes.”

Lan Xichen arched an eyebrow, more amused than questioning, but he hesitated for half of a second. It was enough to make Jiang Cheng’s brain disconnect from his lips and words fall, blunt and true, from his mouth before he could stop them.

“I can’t do it with you looking. It’s frustrating and distracting.” (Mesmerizing. Beautiful. The only thing I could look at for hours and hours at the time.)

Once more, the other’s brown eyes got filled with fun and something before he complied.

“Alright. I will be sure to give you my oral report in the most detailed and thorough manner as possible afterwards, of course.”

“Shut it.” Jiang Cheng digged on his ribs momentarily, a hot flush of pride spreading on his soul at how that made Lan Huan immediately jump, a surprised squeak filling the air and almost convincing the one in purple to throw away everything else and just dig more and more until those and other delightful sounds ran loud and free across the room.

But, no. Now, he had another objective.

He stopped pressing so firmly on the skin, leaving his fingers only resting on the spot before slowly running them up and down on his ribcage.

Holding his breath, Lan Xichen waited. When no other attack came besides the soothing rubbing, his body inevitably relaxed little by little, melting with the ministrations.

“That is very nice.” His words came out less jokingly than before, shining with genuinity. Of course, lying was forbidden in the Clouds Recesses, however, a direct honesty was a rare threat that Wanyin was more than happy to enjoy. “Mm.”

Jiang Cheng hummed in acknowledgement and continued with his touch.

With no hurry, he took his time to let his fingers wander, lower enough to caress the dip of the other’s hips and then back up, deviating from his torso to massage his arms and shoulders and slightly press his thumbs in circling motions on the base of his neck.

For a moment he mused letting his hands go even higher to cup his face so he could kiss it. That idea was fastly discarded, though, since Jiang Cheng was pretty sure he could quickly be dissuaded from his new experiment if they were to follow this path. Lan Xichen knew how to be very distracting when he wanted to.

His hands continued to wander on that very same path for a few more minutes and soon enough Lan Xichen felt himself even more relaxed, as if floating in clouds, not even bothered by the small sounds that kept being fished from his lips again and again as the soft touch kept slipping and brushing on every sensitive part of his body before continuing with its path.

It was like Jiang Wanyin was mapping every single weak spot on his torso and purposely focusing on them with tiny scribbles and light scratches more and more.

With each new repetition, Lan Huan could only feel the tingles spreading further across his nerves, teasing and tickling them for seconds after the caring, a tad unbearable touch of the other went away, only barely starting to subside before those playful fingers were back to alight them once more, making the tickly sensations grow stronger and never really end.

Therefore, his relaxed sounds quickly began being interrupted by huffs of laughter and tiny notes on the back of his throat that were starting to sound too much like high pitched giggles to be ignored or pushed away.

Lan Xichen was so lost in those thoughts that he barely registered as the hands came to a stop on his ribcage, spreading across his ribs and on those awfully sensitive places in between them. Not until small, extremely controlled and tiny sparks of electricity made him jump, pulling a surprised, and uncharacteristically loud shriek from him, his mind and body falling too quickly from the clouds for him to try to stop its escape.

Jiang Cheng chuckled darkly.

“Oi, what was that?”

When he pressed his lips and didn’t answer, another spark of electricity teased the spot, and then another and another and another. Lan Huan felt himself grow giddier, not being able to help but squeak and yelp at each new attack on his poor ribs.

“To think that only Zidian could have so much effect on the very own Zewu Jun. Maybe I should have tried to use it earlier if I knew it could make you squeal like that.” The feeling of giggles in the back of his throat came back with full force. He bit them back. “Tell me, Xichen, how much longer do you think you could take it before descending into madness? You’re barely surviving those few sparks as it is. What if I decided to wrap the Zidian around you and unleash all this new power. How much time do you think you would be able to hold your laughter back, then?”

His eyes were closed but Lan Xichen could feel the other’s gaze on him, staring unblinking and attentively, drinking up his every reaction. He knew he could see how the light burn of blush started to take over his ears and spread lower in his neck, how his torso squirmed instinctively with each word. In a desperate attempt of defense, he scrambled for anything before his brain, who was trying really, really hard to not think about Jiang Wanyin’s words or otherwise he would die, caught up into a cute, very special detail about this new tactic of his.

“Have,” he gulped, taking a few tries before his words could come out with just a slight tremble on them, hiding the persistent joyful energy that kept trying to take over. By the way that Jiang Cheng’s fingers digged on his ribcage and began vibrating in a low, warning pace, he wasn’t very satisfied with this.

Still, no one could overcome a Lan in a battle of self control, even the most stubborn of their lovers. He continued.

“Have you been training harmless ways to use your Zidian lately, Sandu Shengshou?”

The fingers on his ribcage froze, and a very pointed silence followed his question. As a result, his smile got even bigger, making him want to open his eyes just to see the delightful effect of his words on his beloved.

Lan Huan decided to push his luck a tad further, putting all the fondness and warmth he was feeling in his words and tune until it spilled in every syllable and letter.

“To think my dear Jiang Wanyin could be so attentive and cute. Must have taken a lot of time and practice to achieve a fine skill like this one.” Then, with a more innocent tune. “I would love to hear all about how you accomplished such a dangerous feat to perfection all by yourself. How much restraint it must have taken.”

The implications were clear, even if he didn’t say anything else out loud, pulling his sleeved hand up to cover his playful grin.

Jiang Cheng felt his entire body, from his tip of his nose to the end of his fingers, burn, flustered, when he remembered all those times he had to test the technique on himself, learning how to control the power he could use in each attack. It took weeks until he had perfected the new tactics and made those tiny sparks spread a maddening, tickling feeling across every sense and a giggle sprouted in his mouth.

Only then he allowed himself to try it on others. Sneaking a few electric pokes and jabs to hit his disciples once or twice while correcting their forms during the training and watching them or jump away surprisingly or try to hide their initial squeaky reaction, especially under his usual frowning, serious gaze. It was the only way to be sure that it worked, of course.

So much work only so he could surprise his family in a future tickle fight, having now a new trick under his sleeve to put in good use.

Jiang Cheng growled in answer to the tease and his fingers crawled higher, filled with electricity while poking and prodding all their way up the other’s torso until it stopped just a few inches from his armpits. He watched with satisfaction the way that just the hint of his hands there made Lan Xichen wiggle like a worm from one side to another. Plenty of poorly concealed snickery titters filled the room the entire time, his hand shooting down again, showing his smile once more.

(Really, who did Lan Xichen think he could fool with this? Hadn’t he been the one to say he wouldn’t hold back? And yet he kept concealing smiles and holding up his laughter in every way. Hmph.)

(Nevertheless, Jiang Cheng couldn’t really say that the prospect of breaking his barriers bit by bit until he could no longer hold back his every giggle, chuckle, crackle and squeal didn’t fill him with new fierce, unwavering determination to keep going.)

“You want to talk about restraint, then?” Jiang Wanyin snarked, getting closer and feeling incredibly smug when that succeeded in turning Lan Xichen’s grin much wobblier and shakier.

His smirk shone, taking over his entire expression, sharp enough for the other to feel it without needing to see.

“I have a challenge. To see how much of your giant and stubborn self control will save you when you’re completely at my mercy.”

His words were taunting and, still, Lan Xichen couldn’t even pretend to feel truly threatened by them.

Somehow, his thoughts must have shown on his face because Jiang Wanyin let out those fond huffs he always did when he thought someone was being too cute for no reason and his tune got into a mix of soft and exasperated.

“But, if you’re already giddy and giggling like this-” to highlight his words he suddenly pressed on the pits, making a snort explode from him, his bubbly snickers that the other just described jumping on his throat and begging to be set free. The burn of his ears was back. “When I have barely even done anything? Maybe it won’t be a challenge at all. I didn’t even get to start with the real tickling and you already look so close to losing.”

Maybe it was the playfulness. Maybe it was how at ease and safe he felt around the other. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the new game. The joy of seeing how much fun Jiang Cheng was having, how vocal he was being about it. However, for once, Lan Huan didn’t even think twice about the words that were falling from his mouth.

“I am still not laughing right now, though. Am I, Jiang Cheng?”

There was a quick, sharp intake of breath and some seconds of dangerous silence. Lan Xichen felt the hair on the nape of his neck standing and a small hum of electricity charged the air.

A low, raspy chuckle that sounded so close to him made a kind of energy that had nothing to do with the Zidian run like crazy across his spine, sending all his nerves into a frenzy and his mind to tip the abyss of incoherency. Two hands laid on his wrists and started to pull them upwards until they rested nicely above his head, leaving his entire torso free from any form of defense.

His voice was really, really close.

“Don’t you dare to put them down or I won’t hold back.”

Having already played too much with fire, Lan Huan only nodded, letting the other concentrate once again in his attack. He took a deep breath and buried his reactions and snickers deep inside, relaxing his muscles and reining his expression and soul back into a calm and serene appearance, as if he was just getting ready for another afternoon of meditating.

Very well, if this was a challenge, he might as well give his best.

(No one could overcome a Lan in a battle of self control, afterall.)

Jiang Wanyin went back to a more upright position and stopped for a few seconds, eying the arms in front of him with a concentrated consideration.

Unexpectedly, he remembered a game that his Shiejie used to play with him when he was being too grumpy as a kid, which was, non-surprisingly, more often than not. The pang on his chest that always came when he thought about her didn’t feel as painful as it normally did, not when he was surrounded by Lan Xichen’s warmth and presence, when there was too much joy and happiness going around. It did, though, gave him an idea.

He laid one finger on the center of the other’s slender palm, and slowly started to swirl his digit over its lines and curves. The muscles under it trembled and his sharp attention was quick to capture how it made Lan Huan’s breath hitch for a moment before it went back to normal, face as calm as ever.

Jiang Cheng felt like a predator, slowly backing his prey into a corner.

Carefully, he continued drawing spirals on the skin, doing a couple of them before going up to lightly scribble at each finger, being careful to keep the touches light and soft as he went descending to the wrist. Every single inch of it got a good skittering and a few more swirls, dancing fingers continuing to follow their path.

Getting to the forearm, Jiang Wanyin changed the pace of his fingers and the pressure of his touch, now focusing and curling more his fingers and letting his nails drag themselves freely across his skin. Goosebumps follows his tickles, especially as he decided to take a break on the inner part of Lan Xichen’s elbow and dance, scratch and scribble on the most sensitive spots he found until now, quiet as ever as he used every ounce of his attention to catch and internally cherish every surprised, barely audible huff and puff of snickers from his lover with the breakeaned pattern.

The path across his biceps was even slower, with him doing everything to drag the moment for as long as he could before arriving at his primer destination: the armpit. His hand rested there, not even twitching as he saw Lan Huan hold his breath, waiting in expectation for his next move.

Because it would be foolish to think he wouldn’t have another one prepared. That he wasn’t as expectant as Lan Xichen himself for the moment that the dam would finally break and his usual merciless and energetic tickle attack would be unleashed upon every single tickle spot.

But Jiang Cheng was feeling mischievous. The game had barely begun, afterall.

So, with his other free hand, he started repeating the same tickly treatment on his other palm, and thinking that was it, Lan Xichen allowed himself to exhale, gathering his strength to keep up with the challenge, feeling a bit more confident for it, since now he already had an idea of what was going to happen.

That was until the leader of Yunmeng sect began pinching his armpit and a sharp gasp was suddenly ripped from him. His arms twitched downwards and his head turned just half of an inch to the side, cheeks puffing just the tiniest bit with barely concealed sounds before it all turned back to normal, his face going back to a serene, unbothered mask.

Still, no small details escaped Jiang Cheng’s attentive gaze: the way that his fingers curled every time he hit a sweet spot, how the skin around his eyes crinkled when a playful poke hit his pit, and, especially, how red his ears were getting, the color starting to spill to his neck with each passing second.

This was fine.

Jiang Wanyin could be patient. Precise. Unwavering.

There was one yet to be born who was able to win against him when it came to stubbornness.

Therefore, he continued his double attack, assaulting the defenseless armpit with gentle, quick pinches that felt like tiny kisses on his skin at the same time that his other hand concentrated all the skittering and dancing on the other ticklish arm.

The longer he went, the more his tranquil façade began to slip, each and every single occasion being followed by way too smug chuckles that made Lan Huan both want to kiss his lover, let everything go and let himself giggle non stop or even worse: whine in protest.

The thing that Lan Xichen failed to consider when accepting this challenge was a very simple one: he did not realize how absolutely maddening and unbearably quiet this all would be.

Silence had never bothered him, of course. Yet, right now it only left him with no other option but to concentrate on everything happening around him: on the way his lover kept scribbling, pinching and poking his tickle spots calmly without ever, ever moving away. On the soft tingling touches following his every twitch. In those attentive eyes that kept watching his every reaction, every move and smile. All of his sharky intakes of breath, gasps, yelps and quiet snickers seemed to resonate in his ears and across the room like they were being amplified. There was only one thing that interrupted them:

Jiang Wanyin’s teases.

“What?” Said one taunted as he finally, finally decided to move on from his poor armpits. His relief, though, was very short when he pressed on his higher ribs and vibrated. Lan Huan’s back arched and a snort almost broke his barriers. “You thought it was over? Not so soon, I still have much, much more places to explore. Is the challenge getting too hard for you already?”

He didn’t answer, too much concentrated in keeping his composure as those horrible, unfair and worming fingers quickly scrambled to wiggle on the base of his spine, their light scratches making him want to jump from his skin. His body tried to move both far away and much closer from the sensation.

“I can see your arms coming down, Lan Huan. Keep them up, I said. Have you forgotten about my promise that quickly or are you testing me? Do you really want me to destroy you with tickles that bad?”

Lan Xichen held his breath and squirmed lightly in the same place. Usually Jiang Wanyin’s merciless teasing was accompanied by an equally ruthless tickling that would leave him laughing hysterically, too occupied with his own inelegant and extremely loud crackling to even think too much about his words. As they were right now, however, he was just unable to tune every provocation and every tickle out.

Even if he stopped pressing his lips so tightly and let his control crumble, the leader of Lan Sect was pretty sure that his bubbly giggles and childish squeaks wouldn’t even come close to subdue his lover’s sentences. No one could ever dream of being able to outshout the very own Sandu Shengshou, afterall.

Those hands crept higher, jumping from his spine to press on each and every rib on its way for so quickly, so, so fast that the touch only lasted a few seconds before the fingers scrambled away as if his skin was made of fire. The pokes came one after the other in a rapid succession that teased and left more ticklish sparks across every nerve. At this point he couldn’t even distinguish if Jiang Cheng was using the Zidian or if all the anticipation and gentle scribbles made him infinitely more ticklish, muscles tensing and trembling with every touch.

Lan Xichen found himself on the brick of letting his control go and his snickers and chuckles free. His arms and armpits still tingled from the previous attack and every instinctive twitch of his torso made a new wave of phantom tickles tease them, his entire body feeling just like a giant, ticklish spot.

His lips were wobbly and a smile was finally able to blossom on them.

His arms went down.

“Lan Huan,” Jiang Wanyin warned once more.

A single finger began scribbling and prodding at his spine, way too close from his shoulderblades too be a coincidence and Lan Xichen wanted to kick out the pent up energy that didn’t stop flooding his veins. His back once more arched a piece of time longer than the previous time. Lan Huan caught himself and forced it to relax again into the laying position, bringing it right back to the assaulting finger. It was quite counterproductive, since it made him want to squirm away all over again. “Put your arms back up.”

Lan Xichen felt like he had all the reason for the pout he showed the other, still he hid it all the same behind one of his sleeves.

There was simply no warning before the hand on his spine pressed on and drummed in a full attack on the spot, making his entire body spasm with the force of the crackle he had to hold, torso squirming away but unable to truly escape from the tickles.

Jiang Cheng’s previous other free hand latched on his side and began squeezing. His entire body now bounced, cheeks puffed out with all the laughing being held inside. Still, no sound left him. Thoughts and feeling zig zagged in his mind in a totally undignified frenetic manner that would certainly make his uncle and the elders of the clan go into qi deviation if they knew.

“I told you, didn’t I? Arms up, Lan Huan.”

Lan Xichen kicked, pressed his hand firmly on his mouth and squirmed on the same place, feeling like laughter was about to break and fill the entire room in any second now. He managed to endure a total of half of a minute before his arms were shooting upwards again and, just as fast, the hands there were just now mercilessly assaulting his ticklish with all the kneading and drilling of an energetic tickle attack, went back to caressing softly at his skin.

He quietly muffled a tiny, surprised squeak. Somehow the light, sweet scratches felt even more awfully tickly now than before and Lan Huan barely had any willpower left to keep his bubbly, high pitched reactions inside as he tried to take his breath back.

“I can see your barrier cracking.” Jiang Cheng’s voice was suddenly horribly close and he hummed in response to the teasy words. No matter how giggly and silly he sounded now or how fireflies batted their wings like crazy in his belly or how his lips couldn’t stop curling upwards and his face started getting redder than ever. It was only a hum. “I can see how your eyes crinkle and how your smile grows bigger and bigger with every tiny, smallest move of my fingers. I can feel how your muscles tremble under them, before you regain your control and force them to relax. I can hear your giddiness and how you hold your breath every time I find a new defenseless, sensitive spot. I know how it’s taking longer and longer for you to gather your restrain and hide all of these little details.”

At that, he purposely focuses his attention in prodding and wiggling his fingers in the place where Lan Huan’s stomach and side meet, pulling another loud snort from him.

“And,” Jiang Cheng continues, his usual rough tune coming out like a pleased purring of a predator that circles his prey. “Above it all, I can see how you try to move your face away from me, Lan Huan. But you’re not getting away. No. Not after all the effort I used here and not until I get to see how much of a laughing, blushing mess I can make our elegant Zewu Jun to be. Until you won’t be able to look at me without feeling giggles filling your throat and a smile taking over your face. Until I get to hear every squeal, every snicker, every delightful, uncontrollable reaction you have to offer.”

Lan Xichen felt like he was going to explode. The gentle tickling continued as slow and as light as always, sweet and lovely as if nothing had happened at all, in a total contrast from the absolutely unmerciful and on point that it was every tease. Each word seemed to hit his sensitive ears and coax him closer to giving up from a challenge that he never really cared about in the first place.

Jiang Wanyin seemed very aware of all of this. The leader of the Lan Sect wondered when did they become so crystal clear to each other.

“And then, when all of your barriers break, when your self control and restraint can no longer save you from me, I will keep on tickling, keep on teasing and keep on getting all of your smiles, squirms and giggles, over and over and over again.”

A quick pinch kissed his hips and Lan Huan let a giggle escape from his lips.

And then another and another and another. Suddenly, the room was filled by a high pitched, quick and loud giggling fit that he hardly indulged in his daily life, making his ears feel like they were on fire when, with each passing second, they only continued to grow more uncontrollable and ring louder, being interrupted only by a couple of snorts before continuing their song and dance.

A white flash suddenly appeared in Jiang Wanyin’s field of vision and in a blink those long sleeves were concealing his lover’s smile again.

Jiang Cheng huffed, rolling his eyes at the sudden bashfulness of the other and Lan Xichen didn’t need to open his to see the fondly exasperated grin that always accompanied those moments.

After a few pieces of second when he saw that the other wouldn’t really move, the one in purple robes tried to take his arms away from his face. However, the Lan simply dodged from his grip, giving Jiang Cheng only a glimpse of that full dazzling smile before it was gone again, sleeves fluttering skillfully in and out of his hold when he kept trying to push them out of the way.

"Stop hiding your face!" For once his exclamation didn’t even pretend to sound annoyed, the threat hidden in his words losing any and every heat as it got mixed with a bark of laughter. “Wasn’t you the one who was all about not holding back just minutes ago?”

Lan Xichen merely chuckled. Jiang Cheng kept fighting to pin, once more, his energetic arms.

In the end, he was successful, of course.

His lover had been barely trying, afterall.

Still, he felt a tad breathless, little from the quick roughhousing and much more because he was suddenly hit by the full image of Lan Huan’s handsome, gorgeous face. He could feel his own skin heat up as he momentarily froze in the same place.

Lan Xichen lightly pulled his arms in protest, unaware of the other’s struggles. "It's stronger than me!" He giggled a defense and the way that it sounded like it was only two seconds from becoming a screech broke Jiang Wanyin out of it.

Once again, a huff left his mouth.

The hands stopped their dance on his hips. It took three heartbeats, but Lan Xichen felt his pinned wrists being pressed a bit stronger on the mattress and the weight on his thighs shifted forward. If that hadn’t indicated that the Yumeng sect leader moved closer, the voice hitting his absurdly red ear certainly would.

“You know who else is stronger than you?”

There was a hint of a growling in his tune that made bells ring in alarm in his mind, nerves getting alight with electricity.

For a moment he almost gave up and opened his eyes, wanting to see what was happening, but the anticipation on the air was already stronger and Xichen wanted to hear where it would go if he didn’t tip it any further. The hands on his wrists gave them a squeeze that was both too much of a warning to be a purely comforting touch and way too soft to match the threatening tune that fell from Jiang Wanyin's lips.

“Me.”

His breath now teased the skin of his neck, making electricity to fly across the tickle spots to his mouth, expanding his smile. "So I will repeat myself just this last time: keep your arms here, nice and far away from that pretty face, or I will do it for you. Deal?"

Lan Xichen’s snickering now had less to do with the tickles and, just for the fun of it, he tipped his head to the side, as if thinking about his answer.

(If that opened the path of his neck for more attacks, it was simply a coincidence. He hummed a not-so-controlled giggle when his lover caved to the cute sign and laid a quick kiss on the base of his jaw. Good, he was starting to think he would have to pout for it.)

He could feel those gray eyes glued on him as the silence stretched and the squeezing of his hands quickly changed to a firmer hold of his wrists in an answer of a question that hadn’t even been voiced in the first place.

"Oi, I am going to break your legs!” This time, Lan Huan really couldn’t help the playful tilt of his tune as the snickers grew to full chuckling, his reactions being totally unleashed and all over the place. They sounded just the tiniest bit hysterical, but the teasingness of it couldn’t really be ignored. Jiang Wanyin made it too easy. “Tsk. I thought it was against the great Gusu Lan's rules to be impolite. Disrespecting and leaving another Sect Leader without an answer is an offense that is not taken lightly."

Truly, the words had slipped from Lan Xichen’s lips even before he could truly ponder about them.

"Maybe some people just like to think before answering, Wanyin."

(Lan Xichen ignored the irony.)

Before the other's growl could become stronger and his hands got free for the only purpose of absolutely destroying him with tickles until he took every single syllable back, Lan Xichen quickly lifted his torso and planted a giggly, placating kiss on his cheek, opening his eyes just about time to see that lovely red blossoming across Jiang Wanyin’s entire face.

With his expression completely relaxed, the surprise and fluster successfully whipped away the frown that naturally appeared anytime he was provoked.

With this, truly, Lan Huan couldn't really be blamed for the other couple of pecks he stole before the feared Sandu Shengsou came back from the surprise and turned away, hair falling in front of his face in a poor attempt to hide it while his hands continued to rend him immobile.

"I will keep my arms up." He chipped, because even with his pokes of fun, the feeling that he would never be able to see Jiang Cheng’s hands getting close again without breaking into a sea of crackling snickers and the phantom tingling that kept playing with his nerves like a guqin, he was still having too much fun playing with this new side of his lover and he would actually hate to take the teases too far.

"Feeling very confident today, aren’t you?" Lan Xichen felt his eyes widen. There was simply no other way to describe it, but when the other’s gaze fell on him, it could only describe them as hungry.

"Let's see how much breath you'll have to tease me when we're done."

Just like that, those hands were back, making him want to curl into a ball when, even after everything, no energetic, quick and destroying tickle attack assaulted his hips in a kneading, clawing and drilling dance that he knew so well and prepared for. A kind of attack that would have him lose control and laugh immediately, not caring at all about rules or pretenses for minutes at time.

Instead, this touch was light, traveling across his sides. It wiggled and scratched at any and every inch of skin, careful to not forget a single spot.

Remembering Jiang Wanyin's first request, he closed his eyes, trying his best to not take the other's example and try to hide his own blushing face behind the curtains of his own hair. The tiny, unusual giggles flooding and spilling from his lips hysterically were back.

They continued like that for a couple of minutes, Jiang Cheng actually feeling impressed with how Lan Xichen kept his arms - shaking in a far image from the how composed they were in the beginning of the game - up the entire time, especially as his pokes and pinches now deliberately focused on the most ticklish spots, wiggling and skittering more and more frequently as the seconds ticked by.

It didn’t take too long before he started feeling antsy. With all his lover’s most sensitive and weak spots being successfully mapped out so he could focus entirely on them and with the challenge no longer running there wasn’t a lot to focus besides the extremely cute reactions of his beloved, which was something he could indeed watch forever, but also something that he knew he could make it become even more adorable. That nagging feeling that he just needed to do something kept him agitated.

Usually, with his usual ruthless attacks, that would be the moment he would find himself spilling how precious and important Lan Huan was to him. How his presence warmed the coldest of the nights and his smiles brightened the greyest of his days. In those moments, though, his words were accompanied by a loud crackling or hysterical laughter, making it impossible for the other to even see how much vulnerable he decided to be.

It was easier this way, when he was sure that his beloved wouldn’t take the chance to start praising him and make him freeze, or even worse, stutter over his words, quickly turning the tables about who the blushing mess was.

(Gods, Huan was simply merciless when he stuttered, throwing one praise after another in a quick succession before he could even think of getting his footing again, refusing to not let the full extension of his own affection to show with his, as well.)

Jiang Cheng was definitely not a fool to even think to start, in that sweet, calm pace of the melodious giggling fit, a battle he knew he would not win.

Technically, he knew that Lan Xichen in no way minded the silence, he was the brother of Lan Wangji, after all. Yet, he found himself thinking about some other tease, a game or anything he could say or do to see which more reactions he could get.

At the sudden thought of his brother in law, an idea appeared in his mind. A kind of… provocation he saw him using earlier, if he could even call it that.

It was silly, but it was worth a try.

He lowered his voice in a tune he knew that it affected the other immensely, raspy and paused.

“Lan Huan.”

“Yes?”

The answer was as quick and eager as ever, no tilt of playfulness of flustering falling from it. Embarrassedly, Jiang Cheng felt his face get on fire.

(How would he know that this wouldn’t work! When he himself still felt as defenseless and soft as the first time Sect Leader Lan used his given name when he continued using it every single day?)

“Wanyin?” Lan Xichen tried again when no answer came, opening his eyes only to see the other quickly deviate his gaze, blush deep in his face, a giant pout resting on his lips. It only made him laugh harder, albeit confusedly.

“Nothing.” He grumbled. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not important.”

Lan Huan opened his mouth to disagree that there wasn’t anything unimportant when it came to Jiang Cheng when the assaulting hand decided that this was the perfect moment to claw on his belly, drumming and scratching fingers way too close to his bellybutton to be a coincidence. A shriek cut his thought process and opened the gates for all the high pitched series of squeaks that left his lips, snickery fit growing up a notch.

“Jiang Wanyin!” He protested at the clear attempt of distraction, refusing to break contact and close his eyes again.

That is how he managed to see the exact moment Jiang Cheng faltered for a second with his words. Suddenly the redness of his face was painting from the tip of his ears to the tip of his nose and a shudder clearly went through him. Tiny pinches, much quicker and persistent than before, as if demanding his attention, began traveling all across his stomach.

He giggled hysterically. Yet refusing to stop until he discovered what was that about.

“Jiang Cheng!”

His eyebrows furrowed in pure concentration, which gave the Lan a fun contrast with the giant smile plastered in his expression.

“Sush. It was nothing.”

Why was he reacting like this? Nothing had happened in those last moments and all Lan Xichen did was…

Wait. Could it be…

“Jiang Cheng?” He pushed the words through his high pitched giggles again, not caring how each syllable was completely consumed by his giddy, bubbly and quite silly reactions.

Jiang Wanyin couldn’t stop the way that his blush worsened at this crawling to his neck. His lover’s entire face brightened in understanding.

“Jiang Cheng!” Lan Huan looked like a kid being presented with his favorite toy as a gift. His voice was absolutely delighted, joyful and completely unbothered about how adorable and sweet he made Jiang Cheng’s name sound like this. His tittering and chuckling painted every syllable and sound in a maddening manner that made Jiang Cheng feel like he could keep tickling and listening to it forever.

It was a dangerous weapon.

He sticked his finger on his bellybutton in retaliation, scratching the walls and prodding the spot in a way that he knew would make the other go insane with ticklish sensations.

Those chuckles quickly evolved to a loud, belly laughter.

Lan Huan’s back arched with the new attack and slammed back on the mattress, legs kicking uncontrollably at the sensations. In an alarming sign, Jiang Cheng saw him opening his mouth and quickly sent his other free hand to dig and drum on the rest of his stomach, spidering, squeezing and kneading everywhere he could touch in hopes of making him lose his breath.

And still…

“Jiang Wanyin! Jiang Cheng! Cute Cheng!”

Each word was shouted in joy, nothing like the usual calm and proper way Lan Xichen usually held himself. With his heart melting and his chest feeling just like it would explode, Jiang Cheng decided, he has no other option, truly.

In a swift and quick movement, he freed his hands and turned around, latching on his knees and squeezing.

The sound that came out of the other’s mouth cut across the entire mountain chain, a mix of a shriek and loud crackling filling the air immediately. Jiang Cheng almost stopped right on his tracks with the sheer volume and force of it, quickly turning back to see Lan Xichen completely boneless on the mattress, head thrown back, mouth open wide and eyes crinkling in the corners as squeals and chortles mingled with his unstoppable laughing fit.

It did nothing to stop the warmth filling his soul.

Lan Huan could barely think about anything else but the tickles, how they demanded every ounce of his attention, took over his every thought and danced in every nerve, especially when those playful hands decided to wiggle their way to under his knees and scribble on the horrible, awfully sensitive soft skin there as if their lives depended on it, drumming and scratching non stop.

Well, he had quite asked for this.

Still, when a couple of curious tickly sparkles touched his knees and made all of his senses explode in tingles and laughter and tickles and snorts and tickles, his body automatically jumped to a sitting position and his arms engulfed the other, face immediately hiding on his back in a poor attempt to muffle a loud screech.

The sparkles, squeezing and drumming continued for gods know how long. Lan Xichen could feel his entire body bounce with the force of each one of his crackles, giggling and squeaks. Jiang Cheng’s own amused chuckles accompanied his, even if the Lan wasn’t really able to make out the teasing words he uttered from time to time and made his back rumble, too occupied in feeling like he was going mad with tickling.

His body moved before his mind, once more. In a blink he was crackling too much to keep himself upwards and in the other he was smashing his lips against Jiang Cheng’s and muffling his laughter until the assault of his worst spot stopped and his reactions lowered to a string of non-stop snickers.

Jiang Cheng scoffed, but turned himself around and adjusted his pose so they could continue the new activity more comfortably.

Lan Xichen jolted and grinned in a truly ungraceful manner when those two hands came to rest on his sides, but they only rubbed firmly on the skin, the new giggles created by the scare being quickly kissed away as the other refused to let Lan Xichen be distracted by anything else that wasn’t him.

It didn’t take long before he melted completely again, his arms coming to rest on Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders and the blush painting his ears now for a completely different reason.

They separated to take a few gulps of air, lingering smiles and shining gazes focused on each other for a few moments. Already recovered, Lan Xichen found himself diving right back in, locking their lips together and pressing closer and closer.

That is, until the traitors, lying hands on his sides, digged on the sensitive spot with all their might. His arms came crashing down and his body tried to curl in a defensive ball, but it was already too late. A new round of loud laughter spilled from his lungs and jumped excitedly from his tongue, filling the room once more in a high pitched tune.

He couldn’t really help the squeal and trashing when Wanyin made sure to whisper the teasing growl next to his ear, again, voice still breathless from all their kissing. “You really thought that that would work, huh? That it would be so easy to distract me? Just a few pecks, then I would forget everything and you would be free to go and be a teasing bastard all over again.” He chuckled and rested his mouth on the base of his neck, every word rumbling and tickling. “I told you before, didn’t I? You will be at my mercy until you have no more breath left to provoke me ever again. I never go back on my word.”

And then he promptly began delivering a giant, unending raspberry on his neck.

Lan Xichen laughed and laughed and laughed for some more minutes until there were tears prickling the corner of his eyes and hiccups began ringing together with his giggles.

The very moment those appeared, though, the playful hands immediately stopped their playful assault to massage and rub softly until the leftover tingles disappeared. The raspberries metamorphosed to pecks and kisses all over his face that got him melting on the spot in no more than a couple of seconds, shoulders still lightly bouncing with the ligering tittering that followed them.

Silence stretched across them like dogs and bunnies usually do, on their lazy days.

“Jiang Cheng.”

“Hm?”

Lan Xichen waited until those gray eyes were on him and let his smile shine unashamedly. His lover huffed, fond.

“Should this one give you the report now, Sandu Shengshou?”

“Oh, shut up.”

The sect leader Lan chuckled.

That was the only warning Jiang Cheng had before, in an elegant flash of white, he found his entire world spinning until his back hit the mattress and his hands were firmly held above his head. A weight settled on his thighs, pinning him on the spot. Those brown, crinkling eyes were now just inches from his face.

He tried to squirm and pull his arms down, but the grip was as moving as the mountains that surrounded the Cloud Recesses.

“Since my report won’t be necessary, maybe I can explore other… techniques to show you my observations and feelings?”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened with understanding. He tried harder to free his arms to at least have a lieu of a shield to protect his currently defenseless tickle spots. His mouth was already betraying him, his lips wobbly turning upwards.

Lan Xichen kept watching him, serene, no hurry at all.

“They do say that there is no stronger way to bond than to share similar experiences and I would be happy to assist in yours .”

“Lan Huan! Don’t! Do not dare!”

He trashed and buckled, squashing as much as he could the already bubbling titters filling his chest, the kind face above him seeing right through his frown - in the way that he called Lan Xichen by his birth name, how the Zidian didn’t crackle or activate like it did when his master was in danger, in the softness still lingering on him, the excited glint in his gaze, in the very same way that they already had this song and dance plenty of times before - and so effortlessly continued to pin him on the mattress, winking before starting to lower his face, bit by bit.

“Lan Huan, I’m warning you! I will-”

“I love your smile.” The sentence was calm and playful, but Jiang Cheng’s voice still got caught in his throat, frozen. Both because of his words and the tiny, careful and light nibble that hit the ticklish back of his ear, barely pecking the skin over and over again. “I love how beautiful and cute it is, when it’s tiny or big,” Another nibble. “When it’s soft or determined.” Another one. “When you’re aware of it or not.” Another. Another. Another.

“Shuhuhut up!”

Amidst his demand Jiang Cheng let out an uncharacteristic snort.

An answering chuckle rang like a bell and set his cheeks ablaze, stretching his grin wider as he turned his face to press it firmly on his shoulder. The other’s breath made him lift his shoulder in an attempt of defense, only for the ministrations to change to his other ear, more praises and loving teases pouring like rain and making him feel more and more silly, tickly, shy.

(Loved).

He endured exactly three more compliments (he had to put a stop when Lan Xichen started to point out how he went out of the way to take care and make little nice gestures that should go unnoticed because they’re not a big deal at all!) before snapping, again, with no heat.

“Why don’t you stop saying nonsense,” he tried squirming and scrunching his neck, but the other only hummed dangerously in warning, making tingles and tickly shocks spread like flames on his nerves. He attempted to control the snicker painting his words, unsuccessfully. “And put your mouth to good use?”

“So demanding…”

Still, Lan Xichen acquiesced and took a deep breath. Jiang Cheng closed his eyes, preparing for the killer raspberry that would come and finally put him out of his suffering.

Only for a continued, light gush of air hit his skin, pulling those low, anticipatory giggles from him.

“Soon, Wanyin. First, I must tell you all the endearing, lovely things about you that keep making me swoon and fall in love all over again while I watch this blush take over your beautiful, adorable face. Then, after I’m done, you're going to tell me all of your favorite spots for the day and I will tickle every single one of them, maybe using that delightful technique you just spent so long teaching me all about today, maybe testing how loud and carefree I can make you sound. What do you think?"

Lan Xichen yelped and jolted away when harmless sparks hit both of his hands, making them tingle and automatically let go of the other, which was enough for him to dislodge the Lan from his spot with a hard buckle, throwing him back on the mattress and quickly turning around to run away from the bed.

Before he succeeded, however, Lan Huan jumped and locked his hand on his wrist, maintaining his grip even when Jiang Cheng twisted it left and right and pulling him closer and making the one in purple robes lose his footing.

He then quickly adjusted himself on the bed so the other would fall right on his side and Lan Xichen could quickly finish this game of cat and mouse.

However, Jiang Cheng used the impulse to turn around and barrel him on the mattress, limbs getting entangled as both of them get lost in giggles, playful growls and some non heated pushing and pulling each other around.

It took a few minutes until he finally had the opening he was waiting for. Brown eyes shone when Jiang Cheng got distracted, too proud of managing to get on top of him during the brawl. With a fast swipe, one of his hands captured the other’s wrist and pulled upwards. His legs did a quick word in locking themselves around the other’s one pair. Unbalanced, Jiang Cheng fell on his chest with a shout and his free hand held his waist close, body rolling and putting Lan Xichen right on top, again.

Hair fell on his face in a mess of untamed strands as his erratic breath matched Wanyin’s, smiles shining bright. He could feel the way that his ribbon was crooked on his forehead and his usual pristine robes got wrinkles. None of those details went unnoticed by Jiang Cheng, who smirked at him with a sharp smugness, even if his general state was just as bad.

Lan Xichen almost kissed him again.

Instead, though, he took a deep breath, reigning the joyful smile in his face and the childish snickers playing in his throat.

When he opened his eyes, there was now a honed resolutioness on them, his smile became a smirk and his face got closer to the other.

"Do that again and I will have to put my sect’s ribbon and spells to a good use.” As always, his voice rang light and sweet, but with an undertone of something low and dangerous that made the very own Sandu Shengshou shiver. “Alright?”

It was not a question.

Lan Xichen nuzzled his neck sweetly. “Thank you for expanding my collection even more with all your wonderful reactions.”

Oh, gods, Jiang Cheng realized with wide, excited eyes. He was going to die, wasn’t he?

“Shall we begin?”

[~*~]

Random Thoughts:

Jiang Cheng, watching Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan: urg, look at them, so head over the heels for each other, absolutely shameless, no respect at all for anyone who is near. It’s like they have no sense of self preservation at all

Lan Xichen: a

Jiang Cheng: Oh my goddd it’s Lan Xichen hi hi hiiiii <3 <3 :3 <3

Jiang Cheng to me is just aaaaa! The fact that he hates Wei Wuxian and keeps guarding his flute even after 13 years. The way that he follows Jin Ling in his every night hunt. How he was the only one to not chase Wei Wuxian when his identy was revealed. He handing Jin Ling the Zidian just like his mother did to him

I keep thinking about a continuation where, while they're still starting to get closer, Wei Wuxian start having more tickle fights in front of Jiang Cheng - both attacking Lan Yuan, Lan Jingyi or his own husband - until he finally has enough of him looking so gloom and doom everytime he does so and decides to take the matter into his own hands <3

Look, I'm going to be honest, I just need more of everyone in mdzs laughing, playing and being silly, okay? I need more of that happiness and if for that I need to write my own content and spend hours daydreaming about them in cute tickle scenarios so be it <3 <3 peace and love on planet earth

Maybe I will write something with the juniors in the future? Add some pure, playful and joyful fluff in the story. They are just way too precious and def deserve some more laughing in their lives. And Wei Wuxian just have such perfect, amazing tickle monster vibes iugtfrdefrgyu

Also, enjoy this amazing video of Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen that I can't stop thinking about.

#Maybe I got some names wrong jugfdedfgh I am still getting used to them and it's been very interesting so far!#Ticklish!Lan Xichen #Lee!Lan Huan #Lee!Lan Xichen #Ler!Jiang Cheng #Brief Lee!Wei Wuxian and Ler!Lan Zhan #Brief Ler!Lan Xichen and Lee!Jiang Cheng #Kanene's fic #Kanene's fanfic #THAT ALMOST COSTED MY SOUL BUT IT'S FINALLY DONE LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO #Gosh. Everytime I think about Jiang Cheng I just remember that quote that is like 'there ws love. it didn't change anything. it didn't save #-anyone. but there was love and that is important.'#dead on the floor sobbing #ANYWAY DID YOU REALIZE HOW AFTER JIANG CHENG JUDGED WEI HE ALMOST ENDED UP RESTRAINED LIKE HIM??? TEHEE THE HYPOCRESY TEHEE #The Lans are simply something else indeed. how much stamina can a single body contain #Wei and Lan wasn't even supposed to appear for so much but I started thinking about Wei giggling while Zhan looks at him in complete awe #and then when I woke up there was like 3000 words on the doc. crazy how life happens fr fr #mdzs tickles #mdzs tickling #The way that I had to hold myself from writing Lan Xichen getting his revenge you have no idea-#Xichen and Cheng show each other ur smiles without covering your faces new year challenge

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no-saints-around-here · 1 year

Text

Feet Kink

Yandere TR Boys

Masterlist

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if there is anyone as depraved as I am take this as me calling you out directly but also calling me out - but after that one episode where Taiju had his bare feet on the table...aksjdnaskjdn considered me sold hmmmmhmmmm feet feet feet

p.s. not edited cause its 5am here, i'll go through it tmr

tw: feet kink, all things feet and toe related, oral, nsfw, save yourselves it’s too late for me

Izana would be the most accepting of his latest kink, and also the most blatant, because it would make perfect sense to him in his head. Most likely already in a relationship with you, and you were his and only his and he was only yours, so it would be little surprise that this boy would fall heads over heels for any part of you. This boy had always been a huge fan of you in socks; would do anything to convince you to wear his favorite pair of thigh highs that cling to the meat of your thighs ever so wonderfully and serve to highlight every contour of your foot. Quickly discovers that your feet triggered something primal in him when the two of you were fooling around on his bed and he playfully asks you to rub one foot on his crotch - a logical step forward all things considered. Definitely a foot fucker: sure Izzy likes to be inside and finish inside you as much as any other guy, but its those times when he catches a glimpse of your socks-covered feet peeking out from the blanket or when you wear his favourite heels. Makes him feral, doesn't matter what you're doing or what time it is, his pants are coming down and he'll be rutting his dick against those lovely feet before you even know what's happening. Doesn't keep his latest kink from you, just tells it as it is - not like you can get away from him. Can cum whether its against the sole of your feet or when he's sticking his tip between your toes, or the best, when you're jerking him off with your feet - really doesn't matter. But if you're not there in person for him to satisfy himself, Izzy feels fine making do with either your socks or shoes - they do smell like you anyway. Never bothers cleaning up though, this baby boy wants you to know he was there. But it's not just his feet that he liked worshipped; Izana 100% thinks his feet are equally perfect. Would make you worship his feet like he does yours, maybe you could give it a quick kiss now and then? Definitely frequent pedicures where you two take turns filing and painting each other's nails, because no one else was allowed to touch your feet ever again. And afterwards no doubt it would be alternating between giving you oral and then licking your feet and sucking your toes while he fucks you into the mattress. This delinquent would start becoming especially fussy with the state of your feet (like he does your hands really) and with the type of shoes you wear: makes your wash your feet everytime you come back from the filthy outside. Throws out any shoes he disagree with immediately (even against your will) because Izzy doesn't want you to wear any old pair - doesn't want you to hurt or wear out your feet. Now any brush of a shoe against your own is taken as a personal insult to Izana, and an accidental step is a death warrant. Will not hesitate to send his gang out to punish anyone who thinks every step you take is not the next coming of Christ.

Next in line would be Koko, who catches you fooling around and trying out Inupi’s heels just that one time through a crack in what should be a closed door and can never get the image out of his head after that no matter what he tries. Doesn't help that you already remind him so much of his one that got away or that your feet and ankles looked as dainty as Akane's when you put some high heels on. It would take time for Koko to come around and accept that he had taken a particular interest in your feet, not to say accept that he had a brand new spanking fetish. Likes to think of himself as a arbitrarily normal dude with normal taste, but finds himself increasingly looking forward to seeing what kind of shoes you were going to turn up in next. Finally caves and accepts whatever depraved soul he had left when you leave a pair of your bedroom slippers behind in his place so that its easier for you when you want to sleep over. One sniff was all it took to have him already ready to blow a load, and imaging your feet sliding into the slippers has Koko tipped over the edge, his dick in a vice grip as he cums. And then a second time just minutes later after this boy very tentatively licked the insole. No amount of money can buy what he just experience, the mind-boggling orgasm or how much this boy submits himself to the worship of your feet. Don't be surprise if one fine day Koko suddenly turns up out of the blue to clear out your shoe cabinet of all the footwear he deems below you - anything that this baby boy thinks doesn't suit you goes straight out the window. And then its out to shop. Constantly brings you out to boutique luxury-brand shops to try shoes of all kinds and materials, eyeing not only what kind would show off your perfect feet in the best way, but also mentally calculating if the material would hold the smell, or if it would be too difficult to clean after he licks it. Money is not an issue with pampering the fuck out of you and your feet - he has to have them in the best possible shape. Koko does think about what it would be like to have you pressed your socked feet against his cock from time to time, but his main focus are your shoes and socks - easy to take, easy to replace, and exactly what he needs to get off. Don't mind having others touch your feet, but only when he is there to personally supervise and drag you off if he doesn't approve. Otherwise Koko is happy to do it himself, and you for him. Can be coaxed into admitting his fetish to you, especially if he judges that you would be more than willing to indulge him.

And on the other side of the spectrum, Taiju had an absolutely rude awakening to his feet fetish, and this boy was not very pleased about it. With how Christian this boy is, it's no surprise that Taiju would take it upon himself to wash your feet every time you return home after an outing with him - thinks of the whole ritual much like how Jesus would wash the feet of his disciples. Plus he just likes you to be clean from the filth of the outside world in general - who knows what kind of germs people carried? As time passed, slowly but surely, Taiju would find himself taking more and more note about your bare feet and how much he liked the shape and look of them. From the curves of your calves to the way your dainty ankles led down to nicely shaped feet. But he would just brush it off as normal - it is normal to love and appreciate every part of your darling. But then you'll have an especially difficult day that had you in tears, and Taiju leans over to plant a kiss on your foot after his usual washing, and boom. Hard on. This boy doesn't understand what just happened, so suppresses his sudden urges and instead bundles you into his arms and carries on. Then it happens again that night - while fast asleep, you toss and turn in his arms, Taiju still awake watching you mumble, and your feet accidentally rubbed up against his crotch. He almost creamed himself, startling awake in an instant, releasing you to roll onto the other side of the bed. What just happened? Denial denial denial, not sure what else you expected from him - to Taiju, it starts off as constant mental accusations. You did something to him, because he's normal. Having an attraction to feet is not normal, and he is a good man. Liking feet was sinful. Then it turns into: it's because it's your feet, and you were wrong for tempting him. And that's what this boy ends up sticking with, this sorry excuse for his newly found feet love. Would never show it outwardly or when you're awake - this is the sort that Taiju would only indulge in in the cover of night when you are already fast asleep. Especially fond of licking your feet and between your toes, which he tells himself its less sinful then going after your shoes because your feet are connected to you, and you are his. Becomes a habit, a necessity even, for him to be a stable or even good mood the next day - this boy can be very grouchy when he wants feet and doesn't get any. Starts becoming very protective and controlling over your footwear, because he can't show any outwardly desire due to your temptation. No more open-toed slippers/sandals/shoes of any kind, only covered footwear that didn't show off the curves of your feet. Keeps your shoes in a special cabinet under lock and key that only he has access to, and you have to ask him to take a pair out for you to wear. Makes you model those sinful kinds of shoes for him at home in the privacy of the bedroom, but pairs it with lingerie or a nice dress so that Taiju can tell you its the clothes that pulls him in. Washes your feet with more fervor that usual till you can't stop giggling cause it tickles, and starts hinting at you to do pedicures so they look good. No admissions ever - admitting its him would mean he was sinful, so it would always your fault for having such good looking feet. Yuzuha and Hakkai guess that its something at night that gets their older brother in a better mood but can't be sure what, so they start putting sleeping drugs in your food.

Kakucho would be the one to fall over himself scrambling to have anything to do with your feet I would say, but as much as possible he keeps his love of all things feet on the down-low as much as possible due to just how conscious he is about himself. This boy would never admit to anyone just how easily your feet got him off, not even to himself, but no matter how hard he tries, can’t peel his mind off how nice they are. You were absolute perfection in his eyes, and of course that extended to your feet as well. Discovered his attraction when you accidentally slipped in front of Kakucho when he was over at your place and your feet landed straight on his face - you were of course extremely embarrassed and apologized countless number of times, but the Tenjiku second in command was too busy trying to hide his blushing face and his raging hard-on from when your toes pressed against his lips. Would be in denial for as long as he can take, but every time he thought he forced himself to forget about it, one sighting of your feet in open-toed heels would send him reeling again. From then on, you would be surprised to find this delinquent suddenly becoming so helpful - Kakucho had always been helpful of course, but never this much. Helps you lace up your shoes whenever you need, trips over himself to help you take off your shoes whenever you go shopping or whenever you come over to his place or him to yours, offers to give you foot massages after a brutal day on your feet. And then when you stay the night at his place, he steals your shoes away after you’re fast asleep to sniff and jerk off. The smell of you having worn the shoes the whole day is strong, and usually thinking about your delicate feet in them is enough to get Kakucho off, though if he is being especially daring and the pair is easy to clean, he’ll cum directly into the shoes while ever so gently pressing his lips to the top of your feet, taking great care not to wake you, before proceeding to hastily wash all the evidence off once he was done. Pretends to be asleep the moment Steals your worn socks for especially desperate days. Feels super shy for having such a weird kink, but you were angelic, and how could he resist? Dream about one day being able to suck on your perfectly manicured toes while you either praise or shame him, but knowing this baby boy, Kakucho would be stuck on the side lines for a very long time. Because even if you were the sort to be willing to help him fulfil his fantasies, Kakucho has that underlying anxiety that you would find him weird and leave him. He can't live without you. Never dream about you touching his feet though, oh no - he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if someone as perfect as you stooped to having to touch his feet.

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alexanderlightweight · 1 year

Note

Thursday! I'm the anon who sent the kid Malec prompt and I'm totally taking you up on that offer to send another one

I was waiting for next Wednesday to send this but no time like the present.

Magnus finds out alec can walk and fight in high heels cause he taught himself to help Izzy and he goes wild

of course anon! I'm glad you did and i was super happy to be able to fill this! I hope you enjoy it. it is a part of an ongoing verse which is mob!wife alec which I hope you don't mind

<3 lumine

“Oh, well isn’t this a lovely surprise.” Magnus can’t help but pause as he watches Alexander from where he has one leg hanging off the bed and the other curled over his knee as he secures his shoes.

His very tall, very delightful knee-high boots with at least four inches of heels.

Alexander smiles at him, eyes softening as he puts his foot down.

“I thought if I tried your six-inch heels, I might be a little too tall.” And Alexander frowns, “I don’t enjoy ducking every time I go through a door and mundane establishments are always so small.

“Darling—” Magnus asks, breathless with delight. “Are you going to wear those for me, tonight?” There is another business meeting tonight, on the mundane side of things and Alexander has been a delightful distraction each time.

“I have to look the part.” Alexander tells him wryly, as if his boy doesn’t delight in teasing Magnus with his insistence of dressing up to mob wife perfection each time.

“Oh Alexander, I’m hardly complaining.” Magnus steps closer and kneels, smirking up at Alexander as he pulls a boot to his knee. “Let me tighten them for you, lovely.”

Alexander swallows, staring down at him in awed surprise.

It’s always so sweet, when Magnus’ boy does something as delightful as this and then doesn’t expect or anticipate Magnus’ reaction.

As if they’re going to be anything but late, now that Magnus has seen the glory of Alexander in heels.

The black leather caresses the curve of his calves and the gold buckles glint, as if threatening to pop off. Magnus tightens each strap and feels Alexander’s muscles tense under his touch.

Alexander may not have started this intentionally, but Magnus is hardly going to let such an opportunity pass him by.

“Perhaps we should skip tonight.” Magnus muses and his fingers massage through the leather as he leans forward so that his mouth is practically kissing the zipper of Alexander’s pants. “

“Isn’t tonight when someone important and new is coming to town?” Alexander manages to ask, voice hoarse as he tries to be a vestige of common sense and responsibility.

Magnus rolls his eyes, getting to his feet and using Alexander’s thighs to grip as he pushes himself up. Alexander groans under him, as if the touch is hurting him but Magnus knows it’s the fact that he’s resisting that hurts his boy so much.

“Well, if you insist.” Magnus sniffs, absolutely prepared to sulk until Alexander is more than prepared to make it up to him. “Honestly, hiding the fact that you can wear heels from me.” Because Alexander is graceful as he stands and while he’s even taller now, a denizen of danger in the shadows, he adjusts easily to the height and his balance is impeccable.

“Someone had to figure out how to teach Izzy to fight in heels.” Alexander murmurs and then he frowns, “your lips are further away now.”

“Oh, I can fix that.” Magnus promises with a purr, and he changes his own shoes to something sober and tall, a heeled boot with knives in the toes. After all, he might need to kick a few mundanes away from his boy and it never hurts to be prepared.

“Better.” Alexander agrees, leaning down to kiss him without a single wobble and then his boy is gliding over to Magnus’ vanity and looking over the jewelry there. “What do you think?” He asks as he holds up a black leather necklace.

It’s very close to a collar, in fact it is one and Magnus swallows, his heart suddenly pounding louder than he can hear over.

“Sweetheart, you are making this very hard for me.” He chides, coming up to Alexander and running a hand up his neck, palming the rune he adores there. “Are you trying to make sure you don’t leave our bed for the rest of the weekend?”

Alexander simple smirks at him and hands the collar over, a dark glint to his eyes as he pretends he isn’t watching Magnus in the mirror.

“It’s a little bland,” he taps the middle of the collar where various pendants normally go. “I think your initials would fit, don’t you?”

Magnus has the leather around his neck, sealed with a gold MB that matches the buckles of Alexander’s boots and Magnus’ own.

“I am going to burn the entirety of the mundane criminal world if tonight is anything other than extremely important.” Magnus promises him, pulling Alexander into a kiss as he claims him with a promise of what is to come.

#writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #malec #shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #lumine writes #my fics #my fanfics #my ficlets

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scarrletmoon · 2 months

Text

okay

not to sadpost on main bc i do appreciate those “your friends don’t hate you!” posts but the problem is that when i suspect someone has an issue with me and won’t say it, ive been right. like i may be autistic but im highly sensitive to when someone im close to is upset with me and then continues to pretend like everything is fine, and it’s happened more than once

granted, it turns out the people who made me feel this way were kind of bad friends/totally incompatible no matter how much fun we had initially. i guess there’s just something about me that makes some people put me in the “tap dancing court jester” category in their heads bc the second i express how actually depressed or anxious i am, suddenly they want to run away fast but dont seem to know how to do it. so they just (unintentionally i think) project deeply uncomfortable vibes at me until i break down, and sometimes even then i don’t get a straight answer

im so worried all the time that im an awful person and people can smell it on me but keep waiting for me to guess that they don’t like me anymore, and it means im not always fully honest about how i feel around people i like bc it’s happened more than once

so i have a tendency to hold others at arms length bc i know i can be too much and too annoying and it’s a lot better to reject myself and walk away (yeah my fave character is ed teach, why do you ask) than have someone turn around months later and be like “actually you’re kind of a dick and i haven’t liked you for months”

i choose my close friends very carefully now and they just have to people who’ll be upfront with me when they’re feeling off — even if they’re not entirely sure what the off feeling is! — bc otherwise i just. completely fall apart. i am so scared all the time of turning into my mother. and when someone is my best friend, i REALLY mean that shit. so i just. idk. maybe my boundaries don’t make sense but there’s also a part of me that just can’t be friends with someone after i’ve hurt them in a certain way bc i can’t forgive myself. which is a me problem! but like. why would you want to be friends with someone that self centered. why would you want to be friends with someone who keeps stepping on your toes. at a certain point, me apologizing isn’t going to override the very real sting in your toes, even if it was all an accident

ANYWAY this is getting away from me and i just woke up so i probably shouldn’t personal post on main bc doing that has also gotten me into trouble bc people think im trying to vague about them so they’ll come and beg me for forgiveness or something but that’s not!!

“get a diary, freak” yeah you’re right, the internet isn’t my diary and i shouldn’t have used it as one since i was 12

anyway. anyway. this is gonna be a fun week 🙃

#scarrlet rambles

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izamationbroker · 1 year

Text

Gee, I wonder who they're talking about! ☆

Now, before I get into the nitty-gritty about this post, I want to make clear of one very important thing:

I don't care whether they headcanon Izaya to have ASPD or not.

In fact, this post isn't really going to be much about Izaya at all. Sorry if you were hoping for a big debate, but per my disclaimer about fandom discourse, I really don't care when people disagree with me. Everyone has their own headcanons, and they're free to enjoy those headcanons however they want.

However,

What rubs me the wrong way about this post is the vaguepost slander and blatant ableism they cite as their evidence.

The language they use to describe people who headcanon Izaya as having ASPD is consistently and intentionally derogatory in an attempt to emphasize inexperience and discredit. That's crossing the line for me from "let it be" to "stepping on my lawn". I know they didn't directly mention me, but it the statement above it's hard to think of anyone else they could have possibly been referring to. That's a deliberate attempt to put me down and start beef from my perspective.

I addressed this at the very beginning of my original essay on Izaya, making clear that I was not a psych professional and that I relied a lot on basic research and the experiences of loved ones who had ASPD. I admitted that I hadn't read all of the novels. I wrote that essay in response to an ask from a friend who wanted me to go in detail about it. Naturally, differential diagnosis is a thing, and on top of that, this is a fictional character we're talking about. It's only fair that different people will interpret the text in different ways.

I was in no way trying to make the case that it was canon, because the only way one could argue it's canon is if Narita said so himself. I won't step on other people's toes about their headcanons if I don't agree with them. Just because I don't personally headcanon Izaya as autistic doesn't mean I'm going to make a long-ass post "debunking" the very possibility and vague the guy who did a writeup on how Izaya fits the criteria (No, in fact I was actually inspired by that post for the format of my own on ASPD).

This person, on the other hand, felt such a visceral disgust to the very notion that this fictional character could possibly have ASPD, that they felt the need to make a post to "debunk" it, like some kind of gross rumor. What does that say about how that person views ASPD and the real people who have it?

That brings me to my second issue with this post: The blatant ableism.

This post makes two main points about why Izaya couldn't have ASPD, and both of those points reek of ablism. "Lack of remorse" is a complex issue in the realm of ASPD, and I see it all the time with my brother and partner, who both have ASPD. From what I understand from the post, the poster seems to believe that people with ASPD are simply incapable of feeling remorse. That is really not the case. In fact, the quoted diagnostic criterion in the DSM V they are referencing says this:

"7. Lack of remorse, as indicated by being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another"

It's more than just a "lack of remorse," the DSM expands further to describe that this criterion is met when some either displays indifference or otherwise rationalizes their actions. Furthermore, there is a marked difference between regret, guilt, and remorse. Like I said, it's a complicated matter.

I know my partner has talked about it already on their own blog, but I wanted to restate it here: People with ASPD are capable of feeling remorse is select situations with select people. For example, in my essay about Izaya, I mentioned that he regrets how Mairu and Kururi turned out because he raised them. They're his family, and very close to him. It makes sense that they would be important to him and exist as an exception to his tendency to rationalize everything he does.

My brother and partner regret things all the time, but usually that's more because of outside consequences rather than internal belief that what they did was wrong or that they hurt someone. Sometimes they feel guilt, but it's quickly rationalized away before they could ever take action on it. In certain circumstances, they have felt true remorse, and because they almost never deal with it, it's probably one of the most painful things they've ever experienced. To make the blanket statement that people with ASPD simply do not experience any form of this complex emotion is extremely dehumanizing and ableist, disregarding the possibility that people are complex and should not be limited a stereotype.

The second point this poster made was that Izaya's disregard for social norms could be explained away by his IQ, and to that I say

What year are you living in?

IQ is a funky little quiz that tests your logical and spatial reasoning rooted in eugenics as an excuse to dehumanize people who don't score high enough. There is nothing social about it, and even if there was, science in this day and age have discarded its relevancy. It's been reduced to a quirky number that puzzle game apps use in their mobile ads to entice you to download them. "People with an extremely low IQ are not capable of understanding the social norms"? Just say they're r*tarded and call it a day. Seriously. Autistic people everywhere (myself included) would be disgusted at this display.

TLDR: Don't gossip and spread ableist propaganda. Oh, and

Stay off my lawn.

#tw ableist language #tw ableism #aspd #discourse #the broker speaks #I'm not putting this in iza's tag this has nothing to do with the headcanon itself

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shywhumpauthor · 11 months

Note

creepy whumper for Noah?

So this is my first time posting something like this that’s more than an implication. In my writing before I’ve never really written anything with the purposeful intent that this piece ends with. There is and will be nothing explicit within this series. Just read the cw. The “creepy” and “whumper” part don’t come in until the very end. Also I didn’t edit very well so if there’s typos or something please let me know

Wait

Directly following The Newest Decor

Surveillance Masterlist

Cw: aftermath of torture, implied future noncon/assault (nothing explicit is mentioned and it’s never outright stated, just intended implications, and then scene cut right after), kind of forced nudity (non-sexual, open shower setting), stress position, restraints, light manhandling, descriptions of physical abuse, mentions of mass murder/death, burns, mention of branding

Noah couldn’t move for a while after he was finally let down.

His limbs felt like the muscles had been torn to shreds, ligaments ripped free from the bones and stretched out like an elastic, no longer able to draw enough tension to move.

The guard who had cut the cable stood back by the door, which he had left cracked open on his entry, allowing Noah time to just lay there like a crumpled piece of fabric dropped in place while the blood flooded back through his extremities.

No amount of time would ever be enough, Noah thought faintly, finally able to turn his head and rest his cheek against a cool spot of the wood. The pressure hurt, pushing against the fresh scald marks that burned red against the side of his face. They were nothing like the old burn scars that speckled across his ribs and thigh, even patches that had been placed by a steady handed lighter. Those had been bad, enough to sear through the skin and leave blistering welts along the edges.

These weren’t enough to do anything more than irritate just the surface of his skin, but that was just enough to push him past the breaking point.

The coffee had long since gone cold and dried against his skin, plastering his hair to his head and making the floor around him sticky. He could feel it, tight like a film across his cheek, over his forehead, where he hadn’t been able to do anything but blink rapidly to keep it out of his eye. Even now, his arms that had been released from the restraints felt completely, achingly numb. He hadn’t dared to move yet, terrified of the world of needling fire that would stab down his body now that the circulation was somewhat released.

The guard had pushed him onto his side when he had released Noah of his bonds, a boot prodding against his ribs. At the time, he hadn’t really understood, the pressure combined with the freshly released tension in his chest enough to steal his breath for a few long moments, but now he could comprehend. His mind was clearing, slowly, the fog dissipating until only the tug of exhaustion weighed on his mind—but he could think straight, at least battle through some of the disorientation.

He would not have been able to move himself, Noah admitted with an embarrassed certainty as he twitched his fingers and toes for the first time, gritting his teeth as pins stabbed all up his legs. On his side, his legs had been freed from their trapped position, folded under his weight. Able to stretch them out, movements agonizingly slow as he tried to counter the cramps with patience. It didn’t do much to stop the pain jolting up his legs like fire.

The guard gave him time to sit up himself. It took long. Too long. Eventually he was able to get his palms beneath him and push up, groaning as he did so. Only once he was upright and his head had stopped spinning, the guard stepped forwards to take his arm, pulling him up the rest of the way. Not rough and wrenching, a firm hold to support the weight that nearly made Noah’s knees buckle as his lightheadedness rushed across his senses.

Noah couldn’t remember the last time someone had waited, actually paused and waited until he was ready to take the first steps. He was so used to being dragged, tugged along by a hand on his arm of in his hair before he could even get his feet under him, it felt almost strange. He knew not to get used to it.

The guard’s palm was cold and tight against his bicep, escorting him out of Declan’s office. Slowing his pace when Noah paused or stumbled. Setting an even step that Noah could keep up with, for the most part.

He led him down the hall, out of the nice part of the northern wing. Deeper into the sector, through a locked door that he had to scan his badge at and into a hall that matched the cold, industrial design of the rest of the compound. He recognized the path, somewhere through the disoriented haze, following the path the guard led without much falter. The guard only stopped briefly before at a closet of types, once again scanning his badge for access before gathering a fresh set of clothing and a towel from the stacks of linens, as well as some toiletries.

Noah appreciated the shower room much more than he had the hose and freezing cold water. This one reminded him a bit of the one back in the Chamber, ten or so shower heads lined against the two long walls. A small raised tile beam across the floor a few feet away from the wall, separating each shower into a different section with its own drain.

Though, the ones back in the chamber were nicer. They had dividers, and curtains, allowing for a shred of privacy among the recruits. The water would sometimes even grow lukewarm, but at the very least they were never freezing.

These were sometimes worse than freezing. Cold, relentless jets of water that beat against his back, feeling like bullets against his skin. There was no privacy here. The half walls that framed each shower section barely came up past his waist, and provided nothing but a ledge for the toiletries he was provided to sit. A bar of soap about as long as his pinky—or at least, what his pinky used to be—and one of those small plastic bottles of shampoo like the ones given out in hotels. The later was a newer addition to the routine. Maybe Declan had finally gotten sick of Noah’s disgusting, greasy hair, especially now that he was becoming more of a regular in the eyes of the meeting attendees.

The guard let go of him once they had entered the room, door sliding firmly in place behind them. The familiar black cameras stood out against the white and grey tiles, tucked in the adjacent corners of the ceiling that touched the wall with the door. Noah hated to think about this room’s intended purpose, so he tried to push his mind away from it all. Just be happy that it’s not the hose, he told himself.

He couldn’t help but wonder just how many people had walked in here before him. How many terrified, stuttering steps as they filed in rows, scrubbing their skin and hair just to be torn to shreds an hour later as the dummies in the demonstrations. Wonder just how long it would be before he was part of that line. Would he even be able to tell that time from the rest? Would they bunch him with all the others, or would Declan find it funny to make one last twist. Have him get dressed into a fresh pair of scrubs only for the fabric to be torn to shreds as his body was destroyed beyond recognition.

“Five minutes,” was all the guard said, passing Noah the soap and bottle, nodding towards the first shower on the left.

Noah had long since gotten used to being naked, especially in front of the guards. Every time, he still felt the faint flicker of humiliation in his chest, but he had learned to swallow it back and suck it up. If he acted unbothered, they would usually leave him alone. And this guard didn’t seem to be too interested in much of anything.

Still, he ducked behind the half wall before peeling off his shirt, the fabric clinging to his skin with the dried coffee. He dropped them over the wall, having to brace a hand against it as the world lurched for a moment, before he pressed the metal button and the shower sputtered to life. It took a few moments for the jets to settle into their chosen temperature, which seemed to have no influence other than the plumbing’s twisted humor. Today, though, the water was almost bit freezing cold. He tried to avoid standing directly in the spray for too long. He washed his hair first, leaning forwards so he could rinse the soap from the overgrown locks without subjecting the rest of his body to the fucking ice water.

“Thirty seconds,” the guard warned, which Noah supposed was more than enough. He turned around, letting the water beat mercilessly against his back. It stung against the welted flesh, tearing through the healing brand, but at the same time it felt almost good. Soothing. The cold numbing his muscles until the ache was concealed under the ice.

The water shut off automatically maybe twenty seconds later, not that Noah was counting or anything. He pushed his hair back from where it had plastered against his face, swiping away some of the excess water from his eyes. A moment later he stepped out of the small shower sector, hunching in on himself slightly as he held out his hand for the towel.

It took him a second to realize that the guard wasn’t holding it. Or the clothes he had gathered for him to change into. The fabric lay crumpled in a messy pile in the corner.

Noah’s brow knit with confusion, looking up to the guard’s face.

The guard was staring back at him.

His expression was blank, lips pressed in the same bored line. But there was something behind his eyes, something that made Noah feel unsteady as he stepped forwards.

“What-” Noah’s voice crackled slightly, the words falling off his lips as water dripped from a strand of his hair onto his chest. “Wait,”

He saw the baton as the guard’s hand moved towards his waist, a strike of fear spiking through his chest, but it wasn’t the electrified rod he was reaching for.

———————————————————————

Tag list: @pickleking8 @blood-enthusiast @t0rture-me @sparrowsage @enigmawritesstuff @whump-me

I’m going to start maybe adding in a few characters to the series. Not anyone really important, just some side characters with actual names that can help move things along sometimes. If anyone has suggestions on what I should write for Noah, please lmk!

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