kiss meme: 16, 32, 45, 47. for osfyr and chef’s pick of partner. also these were randomly generated so i do not actually know what these are as i send this
you givea me the rights.... hohoho
readmore for the rights of anyone scrolling past this!
16. One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person.
It’s only right, of course it is, that Osfyr should be doing this. It’s their old friend they’re talking about, of course they want to find him. But as he’s watching them do the final check on their pack, Xerxes can’t help but be a little sad.
“It’s hard to go from Constant Boyfriend to No Boyfriend, you know?”
Osfyr jumps and looks over at the doorway to see him leaning there, a smile cracking their face. “Babe, I’m hardly leaving you forever. We can talk, like, SO many times per day, for a whole twenty-five words each!”
Xerxes’s lips quirk briefly before descending back into a pout. “But I don’t know how long you’ll take to find them,” he begins to cross the room, “and besides, doll, I’d much rather have you here...” His hands brush Osfyr’s waist and settle on their hips, but they turn away, laughing.
“X, why don’t I call Yelkian and ask him to stay here for a bit if you’ll be so lonely without me?”
Their voice is teasing, but Xerxes’s frown only deepens. “But I want you.”
Osfyr’s heart flutters a little at the sight and the sentiment, and all they can think to do in response is plant a solid kiss on Xerxes’s lips. They can feel his pout smooth out under their care, and by the time they break apart he’s smiling too.
“I’ll be home when I can. I’m only going off to find them in the first place, it’ll be easier to visit them when I have more to go on than drugged-out rambling. And I’ll call often.”
Xerxes’s smile is soft and loving. “Say hi to Drago and Jennifer for me, alright?”
Osfyr breaks away to buckle their bag shut before kissing him again, briefly. “I will.”
32. A kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after they part, neither person can open their eyes for a few moments afterwards.
They were going to have to fight, of course– no way around it. He’d been pretty sure they were going to win as well, but there’s never certainty in these things. He trusts Osfyr– enough to listen to them when they told him he wouldn’t be safe in the city, although he’s not sure he believes it. So he’s been hunkering down with their family for a time, with various degrees of tension– the parents and one brother have been mostly ignoring him, while the sister and the other brother are much friendlier. Still, it’s been a hard few days.
It’s a lovely late spring evening, and Yelkian is inspecting the burned-out shell of a house in the dying light when he hears a thump behind him. Whirling around, hands already in a casting pose, he sees Osfyr crouching on the ground awkwardly and looking up at him, relief and joy evident all over their face, and his shoulders relax.
“Well?”
“We won.”
And suddenly they’re crossing the short distance to him in a single bound, and pressing their lips to his, and all the air leaves his lungs in a single instant. Their hands come up to grab his face and keep him there and he’s not objecting, just rests his own on the small of their back finally finally finally and hangs on for dear life. When they pull back, their face is wet with tears, and for once in their life, they’re speechless. Their forehead presses against his, and the sounds of the grassland at night hit him all at once– they’re surrounded by a full complement of crickets. He doesn’t want to move from this spot.
“Hey,” they say, and it sounds like a promise.
“Hey,” he says back, and it’s a witting response– yes, that was alright, I’d like to do that every day until I die or you do.
They seem to understand, and they’re certainly not rushing to reunite with their family, so Yelkian is content simply to stand there in that crumbling town, feeling more stable than he has in years.
45. Kisses exchanged as they move around, hitting the edges of tables or nearly tripping over things on the floor before making it to the sofa, or bed.
The sounds of the party fade in the background, replaced with hurried footsteps and labored, stair-climbing breaths. “How the hell do you manage all these stairs every day?”
“I got used to it, weaksauce, and now I have these to show for my troubles.” Jupiter lifts her dress just enough to show off her strong calf, and Osfyr immediately misses a step and falls, because they are a Disaster. Jupiter stops and offers a surprisingly firm hand up off the ground, which Osfyr accepts graciously. “Don’t worry, though, we’re almost there, and I intend to have you much more than fall down at my feet.”
As Osfyr hoped, as soon as the door closes to Jupiter’s private quarters, they’re bracketed against it and being kissed senseless. One of her forearms is braced on the door by their head, and one hand is on the side of their neck, thumb stroking their cheek. They gasp, and squirm, but she’s got them tight, only pulling back to drop a line of kisses down their jaw and bite across their collarbone.
“As lovely– oh– as this is, unless you intend– hnnn– to have me against this door, we should probably move.” She responds with a wicked grin and a deliberate grind of her hips into theirs, and their eyes flutter closed. “To the bed, Jupiter.”
Her eyes twinkle in the lamplight. “I’m terribly sorry. Of course. Right away, oh saviour of Boralus–”
She’s cut off by another kiss, Osfyr planting their hands on her hips and walking her backwards towards... something. Osfyr’s never been here before, is the thing, and it’s sort of hard to navigate someone else’s house when 1. The lighting is practically nonexistent, and 2. Most of your field of view is filled with said person’s eyes. There’s a reason people tend to close their eyes while kissing. All this to say, Jupiter’s back hits another doorframe with an oof sound, and that’s just fine. Now it’s her turn to gasp as red marks are sucked into her neck, hands tangled in thick hair.
It doesn’t last long, though. “Osfyr– Osfyr this is the kitchen. I’m sure there are better places– fine, I’ll just show you.” She tries to push them, but they aren’t budging, and in the end she just sort of steers them towards her bedroom still latched to her. Except, then they nip a little at a sensitive spot, and she forgets completely that she was unpacking a new chest of dresses that morning, and suddenly she’s on the floor with a willing partner under her, eyes wide and panting, and then their hand is on her hip pulling her down and their other hand is on the laces of her dress and maybe the rug will do just fine after all.
Next time, they make it to the bed. The time after that, just the couch, then the bed again, then they make a game of it and aim for the kitchen just for fun.
47. A kiss paired with a tight hug, knocking the breath out of the person being hugged.
Osfyr wasn’t expecting it to break this badly. They’d tagged along last minute on a vacation with Jupiter and Krem, hoping to spark a bit more of a connection with their girlfriend’s boyfriend. They’d gotten attacked on the journey, though, and said boyfriend had been laid flat by, of all things, a dragon– an escaped “monk” out for revenge. Jupiter had saved the day while Osfyr was busy having a panic attack.
When they finally come back to themself, Jupiter is kneeling over Krem and pouring a healing potion down his throat. He sits up, sputtering a little, and gazes at Jupiter above him, and just wraps his arms around her and buries himself in her shoulder. Osfyr looks on as they try to stop shaking and sobbing. Eventually, they succeed, but they’re still crouched rocking in the dirt, oblivious to the world.
Without much preamble, Krem is kneeling before them, having untangled from Juupiter. “You hurt much? Are you doing better?”
They take a deep, shuddering breath and nod, finally looking up to meet his gaze– the intensity is startling, not least the clear depth of his worry for them, and they can’t help but to surge up, kissing him briefly but mainly wrapping themself around him as tightly as they can manage. He’s muscly enough to do a damn good hug, and Osfyr is also clinging tightly enough to make Krem wince.
“Ouch– bruised rib–”
“Whoops– sorry Krem–”
A shadow looms over the both of them, and Jupiter extends a hand up to each of them. “I’m glad you both got through that, boys.”
