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regretisstoredintheme · 1 year

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Turtle Blush + Hand-holding

A/n: more brainrot?? More brainrot. I love making headcanons on different ways characters blush, it’s my favorite thing ok???? And the turtles are my hyperfixation at the moment… I just can’t stop thinking abt how they would hold your hand bc they’ve got 3 fingers instead of 5!!! there are complications!!!!! Also I wanted to draw blushy turtles so yeah.

— headcanons under the cut —

BLUSH!!

Most to least amount:

Raph

Donnie

Leo

Mikey

—

Raph:

How he blushes

This boy will sometimes go full face red, but most of the time it’s all in his cheeks. They go rosy red all the time and his shoulders will blush too. IK IT LOOKS LIKE I PUT SOME ON HIS PLASTRON BUT I DIDN’T REALLY MEAN TO??? 😭😭 when he blushes he absolutely can not look you in the eye, he’s mumbling, stuttering, doing calculations of how to get out of the situation, (kinda like he did when locking up Ms. cuddles) and will start to back up if you get closer. Yk his lil nervous laugh? His lil “hAhAAHH..”? That’s his go-to reaction if you say anything about his actions (which you’re bound to) or if you brush your hand on his arm.

Why he blushes

It’s pretty easy to get Raph to blush, he just feels so lucky to be with you and the surprise that you love him too doesn’t fade too fast through your relationship. In like the first 6 months he’s like this, so when you give him a kiss on the cheek he’s an absolute MESS. And Mind Raph makes sure he knows it, feeling horribly embarrassed about his stuttering. This also goes on for a while before that insecurity calms down, allowing him to feel more comfortable in his own shell.

When he’s more comfy, even then he’s easy to fluster. If you catch him staring at you, he’s already embarrassed. He’s looking away with a slight blush, avoiding you— but if your gaze is steady, still staring at him - now he’s real flustered. Laugh playfully and he just might explode.

He likes to cradle you in his arms, he’s always wanted to be a protector and you put him at peace. He feels pure serenity when you’re near, and he adores cuddles. However, when you ask him for snuggles— he’s burning up, stammering through trying to say “I’d love to” , “my pleasure” , and “yes please” at the same time. “My yes… eh— pleased to— wait- yes the please.. my love to!! Oh god..” (he’s face palming fr.) Although, when you finally get situated— with his racing heart, he’s wide awake. He isn’t going to sleep until he can stop focusing on your face snuggling into his plastron, acting as a ball of warm sunshine to drown out his sleepiness.

Spoiler Alert: he pretty much just waits for you to fall asleep first.

—

Donnie:

How he blushes

Donnie feels like the type to have a nose blush— and also I dunno why but I could see his shell blushing??? Even if only at the edges, It just seems so canon to me. His fingers go pink when he’s nervous, but those aren’t exactly a giveaway because they also freeze when he’s cold. He feels his mouth go dry when he blushes, thats how he knows he’s turning red, so he starts fiddling with the edge of his purple mask, trying to act natural while he pulls it down further over his blushing snout.

In this state, he’s really overstimulated, even the slightest chair creek would prick his nerves, so if you give him any attempt at physical contact he’s either short circuiting or smacking you away, unable to process the feeling. (It’s mostly the latter) ESPECIALLY IF ITS A NOSE KISS!!! He usually melts into your hands, but if he’s overstimmed, he will not hesitate to ATTACC.

He apologizes after, embarrassed that he bat you away.

Why he blushes

Easy, you outsmarted him. He’ll be throwing on his emotionally unavailable bad boy image, strutting his stuff, bantering with you — and then you will throw in a flirty comment that makes him have to just process for a minute. Usually he can bounce back, but if it’s something reaally flirty, then he’s just like 😀 … FOR LIKE 5 MINUTES HFJDHDJEB GIVE HIM A SECOND HE’LL FIND A COMEBACK

After he does so, he gives a small smirk, kinda proud that you were able to stun THE Donatello, smartest, bravest, most courageous turtle of all time— if only momentarily. “You won for once..” he marvels, “huh— I’m impressed.”

Also you doing something really cute, like doing an equation wrong but looking at him with absolute glee at getting through it— waiting for his approval. he is LOSING. HIS. M I N D. He’s trying not to squeal because “LOOK AT MY PARTNER. LOOK. LOOK LOOK LOOK LOOK AAAAAA OH MY GOD” but the last thing he wants to do is flaunt the way Leo of all people does— he’s more civil than that. (Imagine how a badass villain shows off their partner.) if anyone says anything about “pff what an idiot” when you’re doing something he thinks is absolutely adorable— he is pulling out his disposal unit immediately. He considers it the highest offense when someone insults his intelligence, so the same goes for his partner.

—

Leo:

How he blushes

Leo doesn’t really blush in his face, no— the red marks on his face will occasionally glow with heat, but the real place he blushes is his neck. It goes beet red and he’s trying to cover it up because he’s embarrassed. Not only does he blush, but his hands get real clammy, and he’s constantly trying to pretend they’re not. He WILL avoid holding your hand if you’ve made him flustered. if you’re insistent on it, he’s wiping his hands on a shirt he’s wearing or tries to play it off that he was exercising.

Why he blushes

It is really hard to fluster THE Neon Leon. He may melt into your warm hands or blush a little when you’re being cute— he’s definitely capable of being soft, HOWEVER!!! As someone who is so bent on keeping up a carefree persona, it would take a lot to get under his skin. Mikey says so himself in the Lair Games, “nothing gets to Leo.”

He panics when a one-liner doesn’t work. He’ll make a few more with complete confidence, but If you don’t like his flirting, he’s shifting on his feet, rubbing his neck, and slowly backing himself up into a corner. He has a similar reaction when you catch him in a lie, he panics— but he brushes it off with somewhat ease. You’d have to try really hard to get him flustered. Such as, well— He likes the little things about people, because he likes to figure people out, and he’s got a soft spot for you, so say… a blue flower in your hair, formal wear, having that edge of confidence, staying in close proximity while holding onto his arm and gently sprinkling in praise to the conversation…

His brain is frying, slowly but surely!! Be prepared for a jumpy and stuttering Leo.

—

Mikey:

How he blushes

Contrary to popular belief, I don’t think Mikey would visibly blush. Sure he gets that lil buzz in his cheeks and they feel warm when he’s flattered— but they don’t go red. Out of all his brothers, since he’s the smallest, I feel like he’s the most cold-blooded. and due to this, he doesn’t have much blood rush to his face, and he’s got the COLDEST FUCKING HANDS YOU EVER DID SEE. How those hands threw a skyscraper we will never know— but they are only warm when he’s cooking something bc of the heat from the oven.

(SIDE NOTE— HE NEVER??? BURNS HIMSELF??? Doesn’t matter if he scrapes the side of the hot ass cookie sheet he’ll just go “ow?” Check it, and be like “we’re good :)” DRAXUM MADE THEM FOR WAR AND HE’S OVER HERE LIKE “hehe I almost burned myself oopsie”)

Why he blushes:

I’m sorry sweetie, but you can’t fluster Mikey. The most you will get is flattery, and he feigns shyness because he’s a lil shit. He will unabashedly laugh and giggle when you do something cute and is the most clingy lil shit to ever exist. He will rant about all the reasons he loves you for hours, just because he can’t hold in the excitement. If you get embarrassed by it, that’s just a bonus for him!! He’s cooing over you and hugging you tight, swaying back and forth gently.

You’re beginning to wonder if he can feel embarrassment at all— you’ve tried everything. He’s just happy to be with you no matter what, and you are the only thing that could make him sit still for more than 5 minutes. So no, sorry, Mikey doesn’t get flustered ♡

The only way he would actually get flustered is if you lied about something to make him look stupid. Then he’s tearing up, betrayal in his eyes as he tries to explain in a panic. But you would never do that to him, right? .. right?

—

Hand holding!!

Coldest to warmest hands:

Mikey

Leo

Donnie

Raph

—

Raphie:

Idc how big you think your hands are, Raph’s hands ENGULF yours. If you hold onto just one finger he will probably combust on the spot. He just thinks it’s so sweet!! Will probably baby you if you do that. His hands are a gentle lukewarm, but don’t seem to drop colder. It’s really nice during the summer months since neither of you have to worry about being all hot and sweaty. He squeezes your hand when he’s nervous, if you pet his knuckles he will melt into your grasp once more. IF YOUVE GOT FRECKLES/BIRTHMARKS ON YOUR HANDS, HE WILL KISS THEM!!!! THAT IS A THREAT!!!! He does it because he thinks they’re pretty— If you get all blushy then he’s backing up, a familiar rose dusting his cheeks. He didn’t realize it was a big deal, he was just appreciating them!!

He holds your hand often, it lets him know you’re safe and that he doesn’t have to worry as much. As someone with horrible object permanence, holding your hand is a great way for him to know where you are— especially since he feels ‘too big’ and doesn’t want to bump into you. He worries about his spikes, so when he knows you’re right by his side, he can relax a little. If you’re in a crowd, he does the mom thing where he holds your hand so you don’t get lost— losing sight of you kicks off his fear of being alone, so there is no way he is letting you get lost in the crowd.

—

Dondon:

Donnie isn’t a fan of hand holding. He’ll take a hug and will hold you in his lap but he doesn’t usually find himself with his hand in yours. It’s quite overstimulating at times, so when he does, it’s mostly because he’s trying to guide you somewhere or apologize for something. He gently grasps your wrist, his thumb sometimes rubbing in small circles.

Most of the reason he doesn’t hold your hand dead-on is because of the temperature difference. If your hands are warm he doesn’t like the sweat and if your hands are cold— well he’s cold blooded of course he wouldn’t like it 😭😭 Your wrist is the perfect temp in his opinion, and nothing will stop him from taking advantage of that. (ESPECIALLY IF YOUR LOVE LANGUAGE IS PHYSICAL TOUCH!!! He does it to tell you he loves you, even if he can’t say it aloud.) he rarely holds your hand unprompted, unless he did something stupid or was hyperfixating for so long that you got bored and left his lab. When you leave he can tell, getting upset that he can’t feel your presence anymore. “Dove?” He’ll turn in his chair, trudging out of his room at realizing you disappeared. He grabs your wrist gently, his head on your shoulder as he sulks— silently begging you to return.

—

Mikester:

It doesn’t matter how he does it, he’s intertwining his fingers with yours. He doesn’t care if it feels uncomfortable, but if you do, he just gently cups your hand with his. Randomly when holding your hand he’ll pulse his grip in little patterns— sometimes it’s to the song in his head, other times it’s just on the fly. If you copy his rhythm, you’ll quickly find yourself in a memory game where you have to match the beat— the terrapin slowly making it harder to remember. Every time you pass a ‘level’, he gives you a quick peck on the cheek!

He loves to hold your hand, no matter how cold yours are, his is always colder— so he adores the warmth!! If you complain about his cold hands, he’s giving a mischievous smirk, and suddenly you find yourself constantly defending from his devilish torment. You can’t escape him now, every time you go up to him for a hug or snuggle, his cold hands sneak up to your neck, freezing you instantly. He laughs like a little boy with his first balloon every time it happens, apologizing sweetly before going to freeze you again. HE HAS A KILLER DEATH GRIP, DON’T TELL ME HE DOESN‘T. If you try to let go of his hand he grabs it back and looks at you with an evil cheeky smile, whatever you had to do with that hand you’ll just have to do while he’s holding it.

—

Leoser:

May or may not have gotten some inspiration from @pianocat939 BUT ANYWAYSSSS

Leo likes to pet your knuckles when he holds your hand, as well as give it a chaste kiss whenever he feels like it. He definitely does the prince thing where he gets on one knee, it makes him feel so gentlemanly and if you laugh that is a huge bonus. He is more of a hug-person, wanting to be close to you at all times, but he will hold your hand a lot more often if you don’t like PDA. HE DEFINITELY SWINGS HIS ARMS WHILE YOU HOLD HANDS DON’T TELL ME HE DOESN’T.

He splits your four fingers in half when he holds your hand, mostly so it’s more comfortable for the both of you. He whines if you let go of his hand, even if it’s something small like an itch on your face. He pretends his hand is floating away when you let it go, chuckling if you panic and grab it back/being dramatic and holding a ‘funeral’ for his hand if you let it ‘die’. His hands get calloused from holding his sword all day, but he does manicure them, so texture depends whether he’s done them recently. He thinks your hands are the softest thing ever, and constantly asks for your ‘routine.’ HE WILL PAINT YOUR NAILS!!! refuses to paint them anything but shades of blue, saying you’ll have to find someone else if you want to betray him anything different.

—

A/N: THIS . THIS IS THE REASON I HAVE BEEN SO HELD BACK WITH REQUESTS. THIS MF!!!!!! >:((((

Nah I’m just playing I loved writing it and I promise I’ll get back on track now ♡

—

#ROTTMNT #ROTTMNT headcanons #rottmnt mikey #ROTTMNT Leo #ROTTMNT Donnie #ROTTMNT Raph #Leo x reader #donnie x reader #mikey x reader #raph x reader #regrettable writing

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randomingoftherandomness · 3 months

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The way Jihyuk's confession is tinged with such sweet sorrow... Let me explain.

I'm probably off base and just. Reading into the acting choices that Na Inwoo is making right now, but like. It's so sad. Like, he's saying it and you as the audience knows he means it, but there's this sense of "ah, but i know she won't actually say yes even if i bare my all to her". And he's doing just that. He's laying it down on the table for her to see that he's absolutely sincere about her and he is 100% sure and serious about her.

But what thrills me to no end about his confession is how he also lays out the boundaries for her without disrespecting himself. He tells her to take her time to think about it but not to reject him outright, and how he won't pressure her or push the issue, and in the next moment actively SHOWS her and articulates to her that he won't be jumping into the same taxi as she is and will be taking the next one.

Jihyuk continuously walks the talk when he tells her she can rely on him. He fulfils his promise to teach her martial arts and gives actionable advice. He is quick to notice (something Jiwon picks up on) that her proposal is getting hijacked and tacitly plays along. Of course, you could argue that him being from the future has already given him insight that the Manager in charge is gonna land himself in hot water, BUT STILL :D

Is it any wonder how he is the greenest green of flags? ;A; Also sidenote, the way Na Inwoo was acting out the confession scene reminded me a lot of this very beloved cinematic moment of mine

And to a slighter degree, it reminded me of the moment where Hua Cheng tells Xie Lian "... I am your most ardent devotee"

i'm gonna go scream into a bed of moss rn

#marry my husband #na in woo #park min young #kdrama #i started 2024 with a drama that has me in a chokehold #gab writes stuff #je ne regrette rien

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mylittleredgirl · 2 months

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the number of times i will go back into a fic to add or remove one single word or maybe move it to somewhere else in the same sentence can’t be healthy. i’m tormented by a mildly popular text post of mine going around that i am sure could be funnier with one fewer syllable, which i also added and removed 3 times in the drafts before posting. it’s not compulsive, it’s genuinely not harming me or preventing me from sharing my work, it’s just like somewhere in the intersection between perfectionism and an inability to let go i’m there ten days after posting wondering if an exclamation point instead of a period would meaningfully alter a reader’s experience, like a philosopher spending six years contemplating the nature of existence through a single grain of sand and okay, i started this post to make fun of myself but i just remembered that my linguistics tag is “language is my one true love” and writing is more like gardening than a race. something can be done when it’s done because there’s a print deadline or a hard frost or you have to put down the shears and see about the rest of your life, but in all other cases it’s just endless potential for noodling around in the dirt until you don’t feel like it anymore. there has never in history been a home garden in growing season where everything is done. i like to pet tomato leaves and maybe clicking “edit” on an old fic when i reread it to change three words and then change them right back is like that. i’m posting this one with no more fuss because i’m going inside to make tea.

#that last line already bothers me but i will leave the pencil icon alone and be at peace 😌#conclusion: it’s not a problem but it IS weird #full respect to everyone churning out 20k+ fics or two chapters a week you’re a wonder of nature #and i think this post may hold the clue to why i. regrettably. can’t do that #people who write in only one direction i don’t know how you do it but thanks for making the world run #i admire and covet your bountiful harvest while pulling weeds in last year’s garden in december idk why i'm like this but i'm having fun #on writing

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sionisjaune · 9 months

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Cardiac surgeon Lewis and anesthesiologist Nico, his ex from med school (the worst years of his life), forced to spend hours together during surgery because they are unfortunately the best in their respective practices… this is a good metaphor for Nico joining the Sky commentary team post silver war

#if i knew anything about the world of medicine i would write this #picture nico in a pristine white coat frowning in the corner of the room #and lewis up to his elbows in organs trying to ignore him for eight hours straight #they have regrettable sex a few times and fall back in love in their forties #brocedes

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highqueenofelfhame · 1 year

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who am i posting two drabbles in the same week??

rowaelin // 2709 words // masterlist

It was always easy to tell if Rowan had a good or bad day at work.

When it was good, he would sweep in and drop a kiss to Roux’s chubby cheeks if she was awake. If she wasn’t, he would disappear upstairs to check in on her before coming back down and getting a rundown of the day from Aelin. Sometimes she would heat up leftovers from dinner for him to eat, others they would sit and finish whatever movie held her attention before she slipped out and retired to her home in the renovated pool house for the night.

When it was bad, the signs started as soon as he pulled into the driveway. The lights would flash through the window, the garage would open, close, and then… silence. It could be anywhere from five minutes to an hour before he would get out of his car, slowly push the door shut, and quietly trudge in through the mud room. Aelin would barely hear him put down his keys and bag by the door. His footsteps up to Roux’s room were nearly nonexistent if it weren’t for the creaking of that fourth step from the bottom.

Sometimes he would get into the tiny twin sized bed with his daughter and fall asleep shielding her with his body. Other times he would sit with her while he decompressed before coming down to check in with Aelin on how the night went. On the bad nights, he seldom ate anything at all. He just went through the motions of getting ready for bed until he inevitably passed out from whatever hours-long surgery he’d endured that day.

Tonight was no different. Aelin tried not to count the ticks of the clock above the fireplace while she watched tv, her stomach twisting with anxiety at the ninety-two minute mark. An hour and a half was almost the longest he had ever stayed in his car like that. She knew it was turned off, so there was no need to worry about fumes. It was just the idea of him sitting in the dark silence while trying to unravel the tragedy of the day that was eating at her.

The last time this happened, a young girl about Roux’s age had died on his operating table. It wasn’t anything he had done wrong, no. The little girl had just been too badly injured in the car accident. Everyone knew it was a long shot to save her. She’d barely had a pulse when they wheeled her into the operating room, her heart having stopped twice in the ambulance on the way over.

It wasn’t a story she had learned from Rowan himself, but from one of his closest friends at a barbeque for Roux’s fifth birthday a few weeks back. Aelin’s heart had broken as he quietly recounted the nightmare to Aelin where Rowan couldn’t hear, the two of them sipping their beers while keeping an eye on the father to make sure he didn’t get close enough to hear. It had ended with Aelin needing to turn away to wipe away a few stray tears before anyone noticed, and Fenrys gave her a brief hug. The pair had been busted then, Rowan’s eyes narrowing slightly at the blonde man beside her. Caught red handed learning a story he didn’t want to speak of, she had thought.

There had been a few other times since then that he’d taken his moment of silence, but nothing this long since that had happened. It had Aelin’s mind reeling with what might have gone wrong, her body itching to make her way to the garage to check on him and make sure he was okay. But there was a line there that she didn’t want to cross. She didn’t want to intrude on whatever process he underwent to come down after a hard day.

But her eyes didn’t leave the garage door, her body turned so she could see his face when he came in. As much as he needed to be sure that Roux was okay when he had shitty days like today surely was, Aelin needed to make sure that he was okay, too. For a thousand and one different reasons, she ignored why that was. She was his nanny, he was her boss, and she was only worried because she cared for him in the way that all nannies cared about the families they worked for that treated them well. Right?

The movie she’d paused was long forgotten, the brand of the television bouncing from side to side on an idle screen. It was another three agonizingly slow minutes before the garage door opened, the scrape of the sill against the floor as deafening as it was startling. And then there was the look on his face.

Much like a couple months ago, his face was hewn from stone. Even from here she could see the signs that tears had slipped past the iron clad dam he usually had on his emotions. Red cheeks, slightly puffy under eyes. His nose had been kissed by grief, raw from how many times she assumed he’d blown or wiped at it with a tissue or his sleeve. The usually straight posture he had was deflated with shoulders that slumped inward.

The one thing different about this than the others was that he had immediately zoned into where she sat on the couch, his eyes roving over her face and what he could see of her body. Almost like this time it was her that he was checking on, that he needed to know was okay.

Aelin opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a single finger before making his way upstairs. When he was halfway up, he looked at her over his shoulder one more time before she would disappear from his view.

The soft jiggle of Roux’s door handle being turned was her cue to rise from the couch. Her feet carried her to the kitchen where she immediately started a kettle for some tea and then began pulling the night’s dinner from the fridge to warm him a plate. If he didn’t come back down, it would be there when he did. Worst case scenario, she would just force him to eat breakfast in the morning even if it meant waking him from a dead sleep.

Fifteen minutes hadn’t passed when she heard that creaky step announce his descent. Aelin stayed quiet in the kitchen, readying two mugs on the island for tea while the microwave hummed a quiet song behind her. If she wasn’t always so acutely aware of Rowan Whitethorn, she probably wouldn’t have heard his bare feet as he made his way into the kitchen. Still, she said nothing in case he didn’t want to talk and simply proceeded to make his tea precisely how he liked it.

As she placed the kettle down on a dishrag, Rowan’s arms braced either side of her, locking her in place where she stood. He was so close that his chest was pressed against her back. Even through their shirts she could feel the heat radiating off his body, off his biceps that rested against her shoulders. And then his forehead was gently resting against the back of her head while he took a deep breath, almost like he was… savoring the way she smelled. Like she hadn’t been wrong when he first walked in and she was the one he’d needed to know was safe.

Instead of freezing up like her body wanted to, she kept up the task of making the tea. Or trying to, anyway. The few times she had been this close to Rowan had always resulted in her brain short circuiting, and more than anything she was trying to not make a mess of the boiling water and the glass cups she handled with shaking hands.

“I made you tea,” she whispered, pushing the cups toward the side of the counter with the barstools.

“Thank you.” More-so than usual, Rowan’s voice was low and gravely. Another tell that at some point he had almost definitely been crying. The only other time he sounded like that was first thing in the morning or the few times she’d been around him when he was drunk and exhausted, accent heavier than usual and voice so low it gave her goosebumps.

Instead of replying she just nodded slightly so as to not disturb him. He simply kept breathing in the scent of her lavender shampoo, each exhale tickling the back of her neck and shooting small zips of electricity down her spine. The microwave beeped three times to proudly alert that his dinner was finished, but neither of them moved to deal with it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Moving her gaze from the tea, she looked down at his hands. His knuckles went white at the question and he inhaled deeply one more time before turning her so she was facing him.

Their faces were so close that she could count the small smattering of freckles he had across his nose from summers spent in the sun. The rich green of his eyes were more prominent than she’d ever seen them, the color enhanced by the vessels that were bloodshot. Gold and brown and every shade of green she could name was swirled in his irises. They weren’t just green anymore than hers were just blue.

“I lost a patient today.” His words weighed heavily between them despite being barely more than the minty breath across her face.

“I know.” Rowan nodded once, his fingers ghosting over her hip. For several heartbeats she watched his hands almost touch her, graze her skin, and pull back into fists before starting the process over again. Like he was fighting himself not to touch her even though he wanted– or needed– to.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, looking up at him through thick lashes. “You can– it’s okay.”

Consent seemed to be the key. Rowan was tender as he gathered her up in his arms, treating her like she was one of those cups behind them that might break if handled too roughly. Knowing he needed some sort of physical affection, she melted into him easily. That thing that had been brewing between them, that she had convinced herself was all in her head, was now a wire pulled taught as she pressed her cheek against his chest.

Rowan let out a shaky breath, his lips pressing to the top of her head in a lingering kiss. Her own arms wrapped around his sides, hands sliding over the muscles of his back before meeting in the middle. With feather light touches, she traced invisible shapes and lines with her fingernails over the fabric of his t-shirt. One of his hands cradled the back of her head with his thumb making soft soothing strokes over the side of her neck. The other was splayed across her back to keep her tightly pressed to him.

She didn’t have any complaints. He was freshly showered– likely using the facilities at work– and smelled like pine and snow and so distinctly Rowan. Aelin wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but the way he smelled was quickly becoming one of her favorite things in the world. And even if this was all only in her head, she would take this small gift from the gods and run like hell with it.

The cocoon of his arms shifted around her and he pulled back enough to look at her face. His fingers slipped between the silky strands of her hair until they rested in the little dip at the base of her skull with his thumb on her jaw. So much emotion swirled in his eyes as she looked up at him, not knowing what was going to come next. Her heart pounded like a timpani all the same.

“The woman that died on my table tonight shared a birthday with you.” Aelin noticed the way his throat bobbed as his thumb brushed the corner of her mouth. His brows were furrowed, his muscles tight beneath her fingertips. “I didn’t know that until after, but… her hair was almost the same golden hue. Her eyes were blue. Not like yours, nobody has eyes like yours. But they were still blue. And in the brief second I saw her barely conscious before she was put under, from across the room they looked close enough.”

“Rowan–”

“I couldn’t save her. I tried but I couldn’t save her and all I could see was you on the table.”

“I’m right here,” was the only thing she could think to say. It seemed to be just enough because he nodded, leaning forward to rest his brow against hers. Their breath mingled between them, his eyes falling closed as he steadied his ragged breathing. Aelin was almost positive she could feel his heart thundering away in his chest– or maybe that was her own pulse she felt down to her fingers.

Rowan’s eyes opened once more to search hers, his calloused thumb catching her full bottom lip as he said, “I think it’s about time we stop dancing around this, yeah?”

“Not like this,” she whispered, the words falling like stones between them. His head lifted, eyebrows pinched together. “I don’t– I don’t mean no. I don’t–” Aelin let out a shaky laugh and moved her hands to his sides. Rowan didn’t move away, which was good considering the bang up job she was doing with words at the moment.

“You think this is just a grief response.”

“I think you’ve had a really long and hard day and I don’t want you to do or say something you’re going to regret tomorrow–”

“I could never regret you, Aelin.”

And then his lips were pressing softly against hers, asking permission where she didn’t feel like she ever needed to give it in the first place. For months she had known that she was his, however he wanted to have her. That she had desperately wanted it to be this but never would have pushed without him giving in.

So she kissed him back fiercely, relishing in the way his hand tightened on her hips but softened where he held her face. She breathed every second of the moment in, the same way she had all the others. It had been months of push and pull, of subtle touches and words with double meanings. Rowan and Roux were everything that she wanted for her future. She just couldn’t believe he wanted her to be part of theirs.

They kissed until the tea had cooled and his dinner was cold. What he had been hungry for wasn’t food, she found out, when he carried her all the way up to his room and quietly shut the door behind him. He had been starving for her, to feel his hands over her soft skin, to feel her nails leaving marks across his back. Rowan swallowed up her moans as quickly as she released them from swollen lips and chased her own release with his own.

They both drifted to sleep like tangled vines. When she was the first to wake just after the sun came up– her biological clock alerting her that Roux would be up and wanting breakfast soon– anxiety had begun to pool in her stomach. What if he did regret last night? If it had all been the result of grief and him needing a warm body to coax him into a dreamless sleep? He was her boss, and she loved Roux more than any of the kids she had ever nannied for. What if she had just thrown that all away on a whim?

Her mind was reeling as she laid beside him. Back and forth she went about whether or not she should quietly leave, and just as she decided that she maybe should, Rowan began to stir from his deep slumber. His arm tightened around her waist, tugging her closer as he rubbed his nose against her shoulder. A laugh almost escaped her lips, but worry had an iron-clad grip on her nerves.

It all vanished, though, when he opened his eyes and saw her next to him. Because the moment his sleepy eyes met hers, Rowan smiled.

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sciderman · 11 months

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WHERE is the web kink fic

my 7000 wips… ugh, oh, my 7000 wips…

#😔#I think the next fic I’ll finish it regrettably the spideycablepool fic I said I’d never write #don’t tell anybody #sci speaks

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ventiswampwater · 11 months

Photo

sawn off pump-action

bo sinclair x afab!reader

rating: explicit

wordcount: 1.2k

Reader POV. Go on and bring him his gun, sugar. You ain’t got nothin’ to be scared of.

So, I know this was from a prompt which literally ONLY asked me to tell you what I’d write HYPOTHETICALLY for it. But then I fell into a fugue state and stumbled out covered in blood, clutching this filthnasty in my evil little hands. Sigh. Here we go again, I GUESS.

Thank you @languidcryptid for the brainworm!! Mwah!!💕

⚠️ Canon-typical violence. Gun kink. Stockholm syndrome. EXTREMELY dubious consent. It’s heavily implied that the reader is actively assisting with/participating in the murders. Religious imagery and symbolism. Weird prose. Odd tenderness. Biting (Bo receiving). A blowjob in Doc Sinclair’s office. Light sprinkling of daddy and mommy kink. ⚠️

Using this fic as an opportunity to plug A Gun is a Lonesome Creature by @visceravalentines!! If you’re in the mood for IdiotMan™ being nasty with his stupid shotgun, this is required reading!! A fic of all time!!

God tastes like sweat and gunpowder in your mouth.

Love tastes like that too, sometimes. Not always, though. Sometimes it’s the queasy swirl of your stomach you had as a child when you ate too much, too fast.

When you think about it, you’ve always been hungry. You’ve always wanted something in your mouth.

Bo’s hand is on the crown of your head, fingers lightly combing through your hair.

You can’t remember what you’re celebrating—which anniversary is this, anyway? The one with his hand around your throat or the gravel cutting into your knees?

You run your tongue along the barrel of his gun.

Maybe it’s the other one, when he shook you awake and sat you on his lap on the porch. You were shivering in the early morning chill, watching another day spill out from the clouds. His hands had slipped under your shirt, stroking up your waist. You always stay in moments like that for too long, leaning into his touch. That’s your fault, really.

The sun was cresting over the tree line when he kissed your neck. He told you that this was the only place left in the world for people like the two of you.

What kind of people?

Sinners, angel.

You lick at the muzzle, circling your mouth around it. He’d made you bring him the shotgun shells. Held them in his palm and asked you to kiss them. Once for luck, once for love, once for the road.

The safety’s been off this whole time.

Go on, baby.

He’d promised that he wouldn’t hurt you. His promise doesn’t mean much. Once, he’d promised that you’d always hate him.

Ain’t it funny how these things turn out?

His mouth hangs open as he watches you take your death between your teeth, swallowing your lips around cold metal.

There’s a ghost in this room and it looks like a fissure of broken glass hanging in a frame on the wall. You can’t prove anything to ghosts, they’ll never listen. They don’t see things like you do.

That won’t stop him from trying.

When he’s had his fill of watching your lips slide up and down the gun, he eases it out of your mouth. You watch as he sets it down on the desk.

The chair creaks a bit when he sits in it. He beckons you over and you go to him, watching him loosen his belt. Lowering yourself onto your knees, you scoot forward.

You’ve bled for him. He’s seen you kill. Sometimes the blood was yours and sometimes it wasn’t. It washed off all the same.

Impulsively, you reach forward and grab onto his arm, pulling it towards you to peer at his wrist. His skin is corded there, ringed in a thick band of shining scar tissue.

You close your eyes as you drop a ring of kisses along it. You kiss him like you’re asking a question, each press of your lips begging if it’s good enough, if he likes it. He doesn’t seem to have an answer for you, but he doesn’t pull his hand away.

“Doin’ it all gentle.” He mutters. “I’m not made of glass.”

You hesitate for a moment before you raise your lips to the side of his hand. Experimentally, you open your mouth wider, teasing your teeth on his skin. He hisses out a breath when you nip at him, a light hum at the back of his throat. It almost sounds like contentment, but you know better (don’t you). You soothe the bite with a lick, tracing the ident of your teeth with the tip of your tongue.

“Sweet thing.”

You bite him again, harder this time. He flexes his fingers, shifting slightly in the chair.

“Does it hurt?” You whisper.

He chuckles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You can’t hurt me, baby. You’re too soft.”

Soft isn’t you. That’s just the skin of your thighs. But then again, you don’t expect him to know the difference. The bruises on them ache as you lean forward, rubbing against each other.

He tugs his hand away and you pull him out of his boxers. The gun is on the table behind you. It feels like it’s aimed at the back of your head. He thought of you! That’s sweet of him.

You wrap your lips around him with a moan.

He feels better when he isn’t made of steel. Craning your head forward, you trail a long lick up the underside of his cock. Sometimes it feels like you’ve known him forever. Often, it’s like he’s the only person you’ve ever known. He twitches against your tongue, huffing out a sharp breath.

You love him enough that you’d shoot him once in the chest, right under his heart.

You pull back, lifting your mouth off his cock.

You want him wheezing on the ground, cradled in your arms. That’s what love is—watching someone die. He shouldn’t have taught you that if he didn’t want you to dream about it.

“Is it good?” You ask, wetting your bottom lip. “Do you like it, daddy?”

Your prayers are sloppy things, but he’ll take them. You’re not sure who you’re even worshiping at this point. God, thick and warm in your mouth? God, a killing thing on the desk? God, in the thoughts inside your head?

You could ask whose jewelry you’re wearing, but you don’t have to.

“Yeah.” He murmurs. “Keep goin’, mama.”

And you do, because this is the only thing you want (other than the killing, and you’ll have to wait for that).

You get lost in motion, in heat, working your head up and down. Saliva pools in your mouth, running down his cock. The pressure of his hand at the back of your head feels like security.

Most of the time, the belonging doesn’t seem to go both ways. Not in this town, not even for sinners. You’re his, always, no exceptions. But he’s hardly yours (if he’s anyone’s at all). You listen to the uneven hitch of his breathing, stroking your hands up his thighs. Heat coils low in your belly, pooling wet and anxious between your legs. He shudders as he fucks up into your mouth.

He lets out a strangled groan as he cums. Head tipped back; eyes closed. This is when he’s yours. He can’t be anyone else’s.

You can feel him softening in your mouth. You pull back slowly, sucking gently at the tip. You won’t waste a drop. Unlike him, you keep your promises. He chokes out a shaky breath, his hips jolting forward as you bob your head. His fingers tug roughly at your hair.

You can’t hurt me, baby. You’re too soft.

You’d like his lips on you next, his tongue. He’d tell you that was selfish. But maybe he should close his mouth if he isn’t hungry.

You could take the place of the gun on the desk. Push the papers off the edge, knock the books onto the floor. This is only his house as much as he’s willing to prove it. And when you’re stuck performing for the dead, how much can you ever truly own?

Taste me and tell me if I’m like the barrel of a gun, or the cold metal of the blade in your back pocket, or the morning dew on the grass when you use my skin to keep you warm.

He can leave more marks on your thighs, bite you hard enough that he gets your blood in his mouth. He’ll have to kiss you after, though.

Sinners share things here.

You can be the one made of metal for a bit.

#no fuckin idea where this came from. but here it is dsjjfdshjhfdsjfdjh #mento eel-ness #house of wax #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #slashers x reader #slasher fandom #x reader #my fics #eventually I will write smthn for another fuckin character. I swear. but for NOW #<-he's my favorite!!! regrettably!!! UNFORTUNATELY!!! TRAGICALLY!!!!

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poorlittleyaoyao · 1 year

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“I think I will write a self-indulgent fanfic,” I said. “I could even publish it anonymously, so it can be bad. I will just look up this minor detail in canon. And also this real-life system since they’d use a different one than I do. And also this particular set of customs. And also the lunar calendar. And also—”

#TOP OBSTACLES TO ME EVER WRITING ANYTHING TO COMPLETION:#1.) lack of focus #2.) my own nitpickiness #the average reader will not give a shit but I doooooo #regrettably my knowledge base is not in line with my personal standards and I am very aware of this

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blondedonaldduck · 3 months

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If I knew how to write songs I would absolutely make some for a hypothetical Ducktales musical that would never actually happen for many reasons

#i’m (regrettably) reverting back to my musical theatre phase #so naturally the normal thing to do is combine two interests #it prob wouldn’t even be a coherent musical just a bunch of random songs i felt like writing #my dream would be to have a youtube channel where i did stuff like this unfortunately i am very camera shy

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1o1percentmilk · 8 months

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i am trying so so hard to make hatojosetou happen u guys

#lmao i already distracted myself by creating a whole ass website #actually the fic i was distracting myself from was slight shimatori buuuuuuut i keep procrastinating on it bc i don't know #-how the deep web works it's very simple otherwise #BUT ANYWAYS hatojosetou how the hell do i even get these three in a room together #how do i make this fic unserious and silly (because that's what they are) when i am regrettably a very serious person u_u #do i stick them all on a helicopter and fly them out to the canadian wilderness after a cult group? do i make them bicker and argue #-the whole way there only to have them collaborate and use their own strengths against whoever their opponents are?#what's their motivation? control? is this the world's worst bratting session? do they do it for the fun of it all?#what kind of psychosexual mind games can i put them through? what kinda blackmail does everyone have on each other...#and how can i get this to also embody mob psycho's themes.. or do i do away with that entirely and create my own themes #all of these questions and more in my hellbrain. but i'm thinking about it! it's fun! but so hard!#also i use ''u guys'' very loosely i write my fics for myself #milk (normal)

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regretisstoredintheme · 1 year

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Could I have a yandere rise! turtles with a fem (or GN) s/o who sleeps a lot, like A LOT, but reader would wake up when what the yandere turtles wanted or something serious or etc. Wants some affection? granted. Listening donnie's blabbering about the invention he made? all ears. Movie marathon? lead the way sir. something like that, what would the yan! turtles react?

DO YOU REMEMBAH!! THE 21ST NIGHT OF S— HAAAHHHHHH??????

What’s this??

*snatches paper*

A Request??

“Anonymous asked: Could I have a yandere rise! turtles with a fem (or GN) s/o who sleeps a lot, like A LOT, but reader would wake up when what the yandere turtles wanted or something serious or etc. Wants some affection? granted. Listening donnie's blabbering about the invention he made? all ears. Movie marathon? lead the way sir. something like that, what would the yan! turtles react?”

A/N: Ooo… I like where your head’s at, it’ll be my first time writing the yan boyos, so this will be very interesting. Some of this is inspired by @pianocat939 ‘s adaptation, but lets be honnessttt when is it nottttt

—Yandere!Turtles x reader with hypersomnic tendencies —

Disclaimer: I’m not saying reader has it, just a few symptoms. I don’t condone anything these Yanderes do, this is pure fiction, and should stay that way.

—

Raph

It worries him, a lot.

He had asked Donnie to do a full checkup the moment you slept over 11 hours in one setting.

Once he found out there was nothing necessarily wrong, he settles down a little, but he still gets nervous whenever you sleep too much.

He finds himself shaking you awake more often than not, making sure you still had a pulse. At this point, the only way you can get uninterrupted sleep is by quite literally snuggling him into compliance.

You wrap a lazy arm around his neck, and he all but short circuits, all his rebuttals melting away as he nuzzled into your grasp.

He appreciates that this means he can go on missions without worrying that you’re scared without him, cuz’ you’re dozing away in his room, keeping his stuffed animals company ♡

His trust isn’t broken too easily, he tends to make your excuses for you, however, if you’re consistently trying to escape, it’s trouble. After the third attempt, he’ll start locking the door when he leaves on patrol, unintentionally guilt tripping you everytime he has to leave. But you wouldn’t do that, so there’s no worry, just because you’re too sweet ☺️

Speaking of when he has to leave!! He’ll always notify you— you won’t just wake up cold and alone, he’ll gently shake you awake to let you know he’s heading out. Sure he wanted you to sleep through it so his poor little darling wasn’t terrified, but if he knows he’ll be a while, he wants you to know.

Sometimes he’ll just leave a note. but either way, if he leaves? you’ll know.

On occasion, he’ll knit while you cuddle up to him, it just helps melt all his anxieties away, and if he gives you a sweater then you’ll definitely wear it, right?

It’s possible he tries to get you moving on occasion, suggesting you train with him or even go on a walk with him (not outside, literally just around the lair.)

If he does watch movies with you, they’re high action so you both don’t fall asleep. He’s more focused on you, honestly, he wants to know so much about you it’s honestly a little unsettling. Because you’re asleep all the time, he feels like he hasn’t gotten to know you as much as he wants to— so he’s practically memorizing your personality. He’s stuck in the middle, like he knows so much about you and yet nothing at all.

Sicky-Sweet. whenever you start yawning or acting sleepy, he’ll start babying you— asking if you want him to rock you or if you want a snack. He coos over you nonstop, caressing your face with his hands and leaning in to place a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“Regret!! Why is he so double sided? One moment he’s scared the next he’s sweet??” Exactly. Raph’s never been level headed. he tries to be!! Ohhh he tries to be. but you trip. him. up.

He has no idea how much of a loose canon he is, and it ends up hurting the people around him. He gets fidgety when someone so much as mentions how much you sleep, and he’s trying to suppress the sudden urge to punch their lights out as well as desperately explain why there was nothing wrong with you.

Leo

He doesn’t mind. Not one bit.

Out of everyone, he’s probably the one that likes watching you sleep the most other than Mikey. (Creepy ass hoes)

You will never wake up without him either right next to you- playing with your hair and holding you close in his arms, OR CROUCHING OVER YOU WITH THE CREEPIEST F-KING SMILE ON HIS FACE.

“Did you need something?” You ask groggily, eyes focusing in on him. “Nope.” He responds, not even bothering to shake his head. “So I can go back to sleep?” You raise a brow, “Yeah yeah! goaheadbemyguest. :)” he waves his hand to brush off the question, still grinning as his bloodshot eyes bore into you.

If he ever goes on missions while your asleep, he locks the door from the outside— Yknow, just in case you get any ideas ♡. That way, If you need anything, you can just text him!!

and he’ll come running~

“What’s that Raph?” He taunts his eldest brother, smirking as he opens a portal, “Sorry I can’t hear you~ (y/n) needs me!!”

“ Leo do NOT portal away— GHHAH.” If the red-clad turtle had hair, he’d be pulling it out. “we have a foot clan situation here!!”

Leo doesn’t care in the slightest. he never really did. He considers the missions a responsibility he can easily neglect in favor of you. He doesn’t even want to be on the missions, really. He wants to be with you. Your text telling him how horribly dehydrated you are, or starving, or sluggish.. it brings him pure glee. Please have a need he can cater to.

He adores it, your look of helplessness without him— he loves the feeling of making that all go away, and sure it hurts staying away from you for an entire day, but the sound of you calling him, asking him to come home is like wedding bells music to his ears.

Out of everyone, he’s the most likely to pull you out of bed. He adores your sleeping face, but how can he help you if you’re sleeping? So he shakes your shoulder, insisting you just had to see this new movie he picked out.

Hyperactive. He’s not always snuggling up to you, sometimes he’s bouncing off the walls, and the only thing that will calm him down is you. You’re his antidepressant, his stimulant, and his pain relief all in one. He leans forward in his chair when you speak, his eyes dilating in a lovesick manner at the sound of your voice. He’s pretty sure he’s addicted to you— he could listen to you talk all day.

If you sleepily fall over, he is definitely the type to make a “did you just fall for me?” joke. Both canon and Yandere. Don’t tell me I’m wrong.

He considers your sleepiness as a weight off his shoulder, providing for you was so much easier than he thought!! Almost— too easy..! Heheh…

Too easy…

Hey… you weren’t— avoiding him, were you? No.. you couldn’t be! Not after all he’s done for you, right?

Right?

Donnie

He acts like he doesn’t mind it

After all, from all the cameras he kept in your room, he knew of your tendencies even before you had picked up on them.

Cool Temper. To me, he seems like a very patient Yandere, after all— in his family, he always had to bargain for things that he wanted: uranium, attention, his father’s love— even since childhood! he’s used to it. Honestly, he seems like the type to kidnap you for your anniversary— leaving a love note on your bedside table, lined with a muted, absorbent toxin that would put you to sleep the moment you finished reading. He knew you were susceptible to it, his plan was foolproof, after all, you slept all the time.

In any case, he makes it his number one priority that you’re comfortable while sleeping.

He modified his desk and chair so you could sleep beside him, and snuggle if you so desire. Its become more of a lengthy couch than a chair, but— anything for you.

He treats you like a cat in only one retrospect: if you’re clinging to him- suddenly he can’t go on missions. “Sorry, brothers of mine, I can’t move, I got a ‘cat’ on my lap.”

He tries not to wake you, he feels absolute bliss when you snuggle up to him, addicted to the overwhelming sensation of your touch.

If he ever does feel the need to talk to you, he’s gently brushing his cool hand against your face, analyzing the way your eyes fluttered when you regained consciousness.

He smiles gently, “There’s something I would like to tell you.”

You sit up, leaning against his shoulder to gaze at his monitor.

He had altered it to use an old type of projection, GameCube-style. yknow, the ones that you had to hold up to a lamp because they hardly projected any light? Yeah.

He made it a little easier to view, of course, he still needs to use it, but he knows that looking at a bright screen when you’re tired is the worst. In fact, you actually indirectly improve his sight because of this.

If you start to doze off during his speeches, he feels a little offended, but then his delusional mad scientist brain reasons that it’s because his voice is so soothing.

He can’t help his slight hint of annoyance, though. He was really enjoying talking at to you!

If he really gets in his head, it’s possible he might start thinking you’re sleeping to avoid him. He would ask you about it, trying to seem nonchalant to mask his desperation.

You’re gonna have to reassure him, tell him what you love about him, and the like, because if you are avoiding him, you’re in for a world of hurt.

He’s not above making a ‘cure’ to your sleepiness, and he’s not above giving you his cure without your consent. If this is to spite him, he will take away your one refuge. He should be your safe space! Sure he kidnapped you, but you’re not still mad about that, right? It didn’t matter, because you’d be singing his tune once you lost three days of sleep, someone who sleeps all the time can only handle so much loss of energy.

Mikey

Delusional.

He reasons that the reason you’re so sleepy is because you’re tired from your trials in a mortal body!! His goddess is completely perfect, and there’s no way they could ever get sick!! and if they did, he would literally curse the gods until he were struck by lightning.

Makes you whatever meal you want in bed. His lovely darling shouldn’t have to exert themself!! Not when they’ve already done so much by simply breathing in his direction (not like they had a choice—)

If you’re a still sleeper, he draws you. Taking pictures simply isn’t his style, a mere camera lens could never capture your grace, nor how much adrenaline you gave him. Only his dedicated hand can capture every single detail in your relaxed form.

He’s the one who likes watching you sleep. When he’s not sketching your face, hands, pose, etc— he’s looming over you, unable to keep his hands to himself. How can he? When his goddess is right there and laying so perfectly. You’re practically begging to be in his arms!! and he is nothing but devoted to your happiness, right?

If you’re a restless sleeper, tossing and turning - he spends a lot of time in the kitchen, whipping up an incredible breakfast for when you inevitably complain about a nightmare you had. He’ll always be there for your nightmares ♡ what kind of devotee would he be otherwise?

Wakes you up with hymns he wrote himself, and he’s an excellent lyricist. His obsession shows no bounds, and he gives you a sweet kiss to your forehead as your eyes flutter open— letting him stare in those beautiful eyes.

Maladaptive. When he lays next to you, he feels like he’s in a coffin (in a good way?? Strangely??) it reminds him of the fact that death itself could not tear you two apart. Nothing could hold him back from his dear, and he would fight that so-called god bear handed if they dare lay a finger on his darling.

and how blissful you’ll both be, buried side by side beneath the grass and dirt, roses encompassing your tomb. How happy he’ll be settled into your side just like this, white and orange flowers laid amongst the beauty of him and his divine.

You were a work of art, your death would be just as beautiful as your life. He only wished to be by your side, six feet below the earth didn’t matter in the long run.

He would wake you only for necessities and movies. He loves laying by you, but it’s hard to know everything about his goddess when they were asleep all the time.

When you’re awake, he’s consistently peppering you with sweet praise, the words sticking to your ears like honey as he holds you close.

He laughs at every comment you make towards the film, smooshing his cheek to yours and adding on if he sees fit. He thinks everything you say is like music, the melody putting him at complete ease.

There was no way you weren’t a goddess.

—

A/N: JESUS CHRIST WRITERS BLOCK HAS BEEN KICKING MY ASS— I’m so glad I finally got this finished 😭😭 I hope you enjoy!! I know it gets a little wonky near the ends, but I hope that’s okay. ♡

—

#ROTTMNT x reader #tmnt x reader #Leo x reader #donnie x reader #Raph x reader #Mikey x reader #regrettable writing #yandere turtles #yandere leonardo #yandere donatello #yandere raphael #yandere mikey

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randomingoftherandomness · 6 months

Note

When Ziyu had the horrible idea to sneak in the Zhi lineage to find evidence of Yuanzhi's guilt he never thought he would be stuck with Jin Fan in a wardrobe forced to hear his two cousins fucking for hours.

Useless to say that the next day he almost couldn't face them, especially when he spotted a red mark on Yuanzhi's neck

🌶️🍋🌶️🍋🌶️🍋🌶️🍋🌶️🍋🌶️🍋

"Remember how I said that you don't think before you decide on something? I was wrong. You barely have a thought about anything at all."

Ziyu chooses to ignore Jin Fan. Hopping through the window of Yuanzhi's room, he takes a quick look around for anything that can stand out enough to be used as evidence of guilt. Strange. It almost looks like no one lives here.

But what's stranger is the two pillows on the bed and the sight of a coat hanging up that was definitely not in a style that Ziyu has ever seen Yuanzhi wear. In fact, it looks like something Shangjue would wear instead.

"There's nothing here," Jin Fan says, taking a peek at the stack of books on the study table. "It looks barely lived in."

Ziyu moves to open a closet door, when they hear the sounds of footsteps coming their way.

"Quick!"

Jin Fan grabs him and bodily drags him into the closet. The doors are left ajar, with enough space for Ziyu to have an excellent vantage point of the bed. There's so much room in the closet, so Jin Fan crouches down while Ziyu remains standing.

Soon enough, the sound of the door opening creaks through the dark. Yuanzhi starts lighting the candles in the room, the silver ornaments in his hair making gentle tinkling as he moves. He hums a nonsensical tune as he goes, and it hits Ziyu that Yuanzhi must not spend a lot of time here if his servants won't bother wasting candles being lit.

The door opens again, then closes.

"You're here," Yuanzhi says. Ziyu frowns and angles himself for a better look.

Shangjue steps into view, looking thunderous and tense as he scans the room before letting his eyes fall on Yuanzhi. Something about the way he is watching the way Yuanzhi cross the room has the hairs on the back of Ziyu's neck prickle and rise.

"Yuanzhi."

The way he says Yuanzhi's name is something he has never heard from Shangjue. It's a tone of voice that expects to be obeyed, yet weirdly, Yuanzhi does the exact opposite.

He moves to the screen by the bed and starts shedding his clothes, still humming. After he has taken off his outer layer, he starts to undo his hair ornaments, gracefully sitting down in front of his mirror.

"Did you need something, Gege?"

Yuanzhi looks unperturbed, concentrating of untangling his hair and moving to massage his hair oil through his dark locks. Ziyu is so focused on what Yuanzhi is doing, he completely misses the way Shangjue stalks forward, alerted only by the way Jin Fan jolts by his hip.

Shangjue moves to press his hands on Yuanzhi's shoulders. Ziyu sees the way Yuanzhi stills. There is a growing tension in the room and it's eluding him why that could be.

"We're in my room," Yuanzhi says after a beat. Not deterred even when Shangjue says his name again in that tone, he continues to comb his hair. When Shangjue does not pull away, Ziyu sees the way Yuanzhi blushes to the tips of his ears.

"You know why I'm in my room instead of in yours." There's a measure of upset in his voice.

Shangjue actually looks abashed at this. "I know. But did it really mean you won't come to bed--"

"My bed is there. Your bed is in your own room and I'm tired," Yuanzhi hisses. Setting his comb down, he looks at Shangjue in the mirror. "I don't want to talk about this."

It's clear now that Ziyu and Jin Fan would not be able to get out of this without looking like absolute assholes at best, beaten into a pulp at worst. This is something that is clearly private. The dynamic between them is one Ziyu himself has never seen in all the years they've had growing up in orbit of each other.

What cements it as something they've overstepped into is the moment Shangjue hauls Yuanzhi up by the back of the neck, dragging him to the bed and throwing him on it, front first. Barely giving Yuanzhi a moment to recover, Shangjue flips him onto his back, pressing him down and pushing his hands through the front folds of his inner robe, and starts kissing him up the side of his neckline, dragging his mouth down the line of Yuanzhi's jaw.

That triggers something in the younger man, because he starts pushing at Shangjue's chest, ruddy red with anger, making a soft muffled growl into Shangjue's kisses. "Gege!"

"I can't stop, Didi. I need you," Shangjue says, voice pooling back into that smoky, dangerous tone. "Please."

This makes Yuanzhi stop for a beat. The only sign of defiance is the flinty glare he is giving Shangjue. "This is why I told you to take it easy--"

"Didi..."

Yuanzhi pushes himself up on his elbows. Eyes searching Shangjue's face, he eventually sighs. "You're lucky I'm still loose from this afternoon."

Something about that statement has Jin Fan bumping into Ziyu. He barely has the time to ponder as to why that could be because Shangjue is back on Yuanzhi, pulling him into an all-consuming kiss that looks more like Shangjue devouring him whole.

Ziyu can't look away when Shangjue -- the same Shangjue who probably doesn't have the word 'gentle' in his vocabulary -- move back enough to give Yuanzhi a smile.

"I'll make sure it still hurts tomorrow."

Shangjue drags his hands under Yuanzhi's knees, spreading them wide. With barely more than his hands, he tears at Yuanzhi's clothes. With some distant, dulled sense of dread, Ziyu realises that they can see everything from where they are.

Every pale swath of skin exposed into the candle light. Every moment Shangjue's licking into Yuanzhi's mouth. Every point of contact their bodies are making on the bed.

Then Shangjue does something down his front and Ziyu sees the way Yuanzhi blushes a deeper shade of pink at the sight of it, lips parting on a moan when Shangjue shifts his body between his thighs, full-on shuddering, toes curling, when Shangjue surges forwards.

Yuanzhi gives out a bitten off cry. "Wait. Wait--" He turns his body to the side, hair pooling on the bed. "Ow, ow, ow..."

He doesn't say anything else. He can't. Not when Shangjue takes him by the waist and bodily pulls his lower body against him. Ziyu spies the way Yuanzhi falls back like a puppet with its strings cut. Shangjue seems to give into some primal need when he undresses with no care to where everything falls, because he starts thrusting the second he's naked, grunting with every slap of flesh to wet flesh.

The choir in the room is a crescendo of lewd pleasure. "Gege...!"

For someone with his didi's ankles at his ears, Shangjue coolly whispers, "You don't have to say a word. I already know. You love it when I use you for your hole, don't you? Pretty little thing like you needs a cock in you at all hours of the day. What a pity for my little slut... I don't like sharing my toys."

"Gege, gege, gege..." Yuanzhi moans, hands gripping Shangjue's shoulders, urging him on. "Gege...!"

In a blink of an eye, Shangjue pulls his cock out of Yuanzhi with a wet, slick sound. "Hold yourself open."

Yuanzhi scrambles to comply.

In the dark of the closet space, Ziyu tries to breathe as shallowly as possible. He doesn't dare look at Jin Fan.

What he does keep his eyes on is the way Shangjue's face softens in fondness at the sight of Yuanzhi's red ass cheeks, but what draws Ziyu's gaze is the puckered flower winking as it oozes out come.

"Beautiful."

Shangjue bullies his cock back into Yuanzhi in one smooth movement, punching out a drawn out whine. It seems to delight Shangjue because he is bringing the palm of his hand to press down at the small bulge at his lower belly that Ziyu quickly realises is very possibly the shape of Shangjue's cock.

"A-ah," Yunazhi moans. "Ge..."

And that's all he says before he stiffens, coming untouched all over his belly. "Such a messy little slut," Shangjue coos, even as he cruelly picks up his thrusting, reaching up to wrap a hand around Yuanzhi's throat.

"Mine."

Yuanzhi blinks up slowly at Shangjue, his eyes still clouded with that haze of bliss. "Yours," He breathes. "All yours."

The sounds of skin to skin is a rhythm that beats itself into ZIyu's skull. More so when he sees Yuanzhi physically shake through another orgasm, wetting himself in time to Shangjue growling when he pumps himself in Yuanzhi.

Shangjue pulls Yuanzhi into an embrace, sitting back even as he fucks his seed deep into Yuanzhi. For a moment, there's no other noise other than the soft lazy kisses peppered with quiet sighs and moans.

"Didi, how do you feel?"

And just like that, the Shangjue gege Ziyu has always known to be indulgent and doting on Yuanzhi is back. But what does throw him off is how his voice is thick with a languid fondness that he has only ever heard between Lady Wuji and his Father.

"Like I'm going to have trouble walking tomorrow," Yuanzhi grumbles. "You'd better be prepared to fight on my behalf if Gong Ziyu and his merry band of ruffians start anything."

Smacking Shangjue on his shoulder, the sound is loud enough that Ziyu knows it definitely has to hurt, Yuanzhi glares.

"I told you I didn't want to sleep in your bed tonight," He continues, wriggling away only to be caught again in Shangjue's arms. "You should go back--"

"No."

Yuanzhi blushes. "Your betrothed is probably waiting for you."

"The only one who has the right to share my bed is you. The only wife I'll ever have is you," Shangjue says, sounding for some freakish reason, happy about that statement. It comes out coaxing and Ziyu feels himself reeling a little.

How long has this been going on? From the way Yuanzhi is beaming in an almost thrilled way when Shangjue says he'll burn his bedding in the front courtyard of the Jue residence just to appease him, its telling Ziyu that this side of their bond is one that they've probably worked very hard to keep private.

Not for the first time, Ziyu feels like he's a trespasser looking in on something intimate and sacred, especially when Shangjue leans in to kiss Yuanzhi on the temple.

"Come on. Let's get cleaned up."

"Wha--"

Shangjue gives Yuanzhi little warning when he picks him up, pushing his still half-hard cock back into Yuanzhi. He gives a hiss at that, but otherwise seems comfortable enough to wrap his arms around Shangjue's neck. Long, lean legs wrap around Shangjue's hips when he moves to stand.

"We should... We should grab some fresh clothes. I think there's a set of your robes in that closet there."

"It's fine," Shangjue chuckles, pecking the corner of Yuanzhi's lips. "Why do I need to get dressed when I'm pampering my pretty little wife? Besides," Shangjue pauses, flitting a glare to the closet where Ziyu and Jin Fan are. An icy sense of fear runs up his veins and he feels the way Jin Fan goes statue still. "We should air out the room."

"Air the room?" Yuanzhi parrots. The word trails off into a moan when Shangjue starts walking.

"Yes," Shangjue kisses him again breezily. "If we are to sleep here tonight, we should air out the room. We won't know what manner of pests might have made their home here while we were gone."

Ziyu hears little else after that. The second they can't hear their footsteps, Ziyu cracks the door open. With a tacit agreement to not look at the mess at the bed, they quickly open a window and jump out into the cool night air and into freedom. He catches the way Jin Fan resolutely does not look at him and he respects that by not looking at his Jade Guardian more than he has to.

How he is going to be able to look at Yuanzhi at their morning meeting with the Elders, he really has no clue. Not especially if he can still see the reason why he has to have an extra pillow on his seat.

#gong shangjue x gong yuanzhi #shangzhi #juezhi #my journey to you fic #gab writes stuff #my journey to you #SPICIEST LEMONS ON THE MENU TONIGHT #SPICYYYYYYY #Je ne regrette rien :)

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