#500 word limit instead

[kingsofeverything]

…

[buckets-and-trees]

EVERY MINUTE OF IT

Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Bucky x Female!Omega!Reader Word Count: 4k Summary: Claimed unequivocally by Alpha Bucky Barnes, leader of the growing HYDRA faction, that's not the end of it. But what exactly is in store for you? What will it mean to be his Omega?

Content/Warnings: omegaverse; reluctant attraction; power dynamics; mild manipulation; threats; dirty talk; explicit smut: spanking, vaginal fingering, biting, rough sex, choking, edging, orgasm denial, slapping, spitting, oral (male and female receiving), unprotected vaginal intercourse and insemination, dacryphilia, overstimulation, erotic picture taking

Author Notes: Part three to what I never planned on being a series - the Alpha Bucky April drabble was only 500 words, the next part hit 1.5k, but this... well, let's just say this Bucky absolutely had his way with both me and my muse. This one will be a make up to tick orgasm delay/denail for MARCH of @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ; and the dialogue, alpha, and pet prompts for the second week of Hot Bucky Summer (thought this was going to be a short little thing I was going to whip out before week two had finished, but alas hahaha).

A/N 2: We've seen only a bit of his rough side up to this pont, but in this part we will truly see mean Alpha Bucky. Don't say I didn't warn you - here and with the actual content warning list.

A/N 3: I tried not to write any plot with this porn, but a minimal amount forced its way in.

He had made good on his threat, using your body for pleasure and for show under the full moon until there was no one left to watch, but you were not sure he had been keeping close track, instead merely taking you over and over until they grey hours of dawn. You had been too exhausted to register anything much after that – being carried away, a car ride, being tucked into a bed.

You had woken up in the afternoon alone.

Alone for the first time in three days.

On hearing you make your way to the bathroom someone had brought in water and left an impressive spread of food that lasted you through the afternoon and evening. You grazed and slept.

Your body and mind had been pushed beyond all previous limits, and so the sleep and rest had been most of those first few days after the full moon and the conqueror’s bonding ritual.

But now, a week on, you are tired, restless, and impatient.

You were in a spacious penthouse, you had been offered many luxuries, well fed by a personal chef, attended to by an assistant, your only restrictions being denied access to a phone or internet and barred from leaving the premises.

Should you have chosen an unplugged retreat or vacation, it would be perfect.

After contemplating and debating internally all morning, at lunch you make your decision. You finish yet another delicious meal, wipe your mouth with the beautiful linen napkin, and then set it down next to the bone china and plated gold utensils. The staff begins to move around you, and your assistant approaches.

Before she can speak, you take a deep breath and say, “I need to see him.”

There’s no question of who you mean.

She nods. “I’ll make the request.”

Whether pet or prisoner, you've been left alone for more than seven days. As such, you do not believe your request will be seen as any sort of priority, so when you see the more formal dining table set for two for dinner later that night, your mouth drops open for a moment, and you stop in your tracks.

You turn to your assistant – even though she tries to afford you most of your privacy, she is ever on the edge of your presence. She looks as surprised as you. “I was given no response other than that they’d take the request under consideration.”

You nod, then pace, padding barefoot across the hardwood floor in front of floor-to-ceiling windows, until you finally hear a rustle and then the commotion of activity that signals his arrival.

Your heart races, but it’s only a few more moments before the large and imposing alpha, Bucky Barnes, appears in front of you.

“Omega,” he says with a mere nod of his head, no pretense.

Your eyes narrow a fraction, wary of his seemingly easy demeanor. “Alpha.”

“Shall we?” he asks, and motions to the table.

You nod and take a seat as he does.

Within seconds, the meal is brought in by two attendants and the chef, and Bucky thanks and praises them very simply.

He occasionally looks at you throughout the meal, seeming to regard and appraise you, but does not speak.

Before long, you huff, and he looks up sharply, pinning you with his steel blue eyes, harsher than at any point since he’d arrived. “What?” he demands.

“What is all of this?” you start, gesturing your hand to indicate the penthouse. “And where have you been?”

He sets down his knife and fork and straightens a little more. “Is it not to suited to your liking? You can change anything you want. This is your place.”

“My place?” you ask.

“Yes, your place. It is not far from the place I’ve taken up residence.”

The revelation is not surprising, but somehow more irritating. “And what? You’ve had me and now you’re discarding me?”

“I should have thought you’d want your own place.”

Maybe you should want your own place, away from him. And yet…

“I should be wherever you are.”

“What?” he scoffs. “So you can be embroiled in my affairs and bring me down? ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?’”

The accusation wounds you, though you know it’s only logical – and you know what you’re thinking and feeling isn’t logical. You have done so much thinking - the irrevocably logical and illogical pieces at war in your mind - that you have determined to put off thinking about it altogether. At least as much as you can for now.

“I’m not your friend,” you state, trying to keep your voice as even as possible, “but I’m not your enemy either.”

“What should I call you then?” he challenges.

You raise your chin a fraction. “I’m your Omega.”

He doesn’t speak or move immediately. Instead, his eyes somehow fix you even more intently. There’s a burning in your chest under his scrutiny, but you remain still.

Finally, he stands and moves toward you, the two of you never taking your eyes off the other.

“You are my Omega.”

He comes to stand behind your chair, and you remain unmoving. He takes your chin in his left hand and tilts your head to expose your neck to him. He leans down and noses along your jaw, inhaling your scent and putting your body on alert. You feel the curling tendrils of want stir in your core, already awakening for him. He tilts your head even more and draws his teeth along the side of your throat, causing a shiver you can’t suppress, and he chuckles darkly and licks at the fresher of the two bonding marks he gave you. His hot tongue, insistently pressing at the bite elicits a small noise from you, and your right hand shoots up to card into his hair. Your full omega side wants him, has started to slicken your pussy for him. You can feel it. You know your alpha can smell it.

He bites over the mark, but not roughly enough to break the skin, and you arch up for more, but he pushes himself back up, away from you and the crook of your neck.

“So needy,” he remarks, “I like this.”

The first few days you’d spent with him, he’d kept you full of his cock, tortured with pleasure, overwhelmed, exhausted by him and the recipient of a seemingly insatiable lust unleashed on you.

This feels like the predator is going to play with his prey, and you bite your lip. He pushes your head, tilted to the left, to the right to drop into his other hand, clearly testing your compliance. It’s gentle, but it’s dominant. Back to the left, then to the right, and then he dips to nip at your ear, and you gasp.

Bucky releases your head from between his large hands then pulls your chair away from the table.

“Up.”

You stand. He puts one hand on your hip and ushers you around the edge of the table and to the side, in the middle, and turns you to face the wide expanse of mahogany and its centerpiece of fresh flowers – white peonies, white roses, white hydrangeas.

“Put your hands on the table,” he instructs.

You press the palms of your hands onto the smooth, dark wood. Your omega side is ready – even eager – to comply, and with your own long game to execute, you know you must play out whatever game he desires now.

“Arch your back,” is his next direction.

Keeping your breathing even, you do, hips jutting away from the table, on display for him.

The back of his hand lands at the nape of your neck, and he drags his knuckles slowly down your spine. Your body rocks back, seeking more, as he reaches the small of your back, and he hums in self-satisfaction.

While his vibranium hand plants itself on your hip, he moves the other around to skim slowly over your stomach, then up your rib cage, and to your breast. He gropes the round flesh through your shirt and bra, but the fabric does nothing to quell how the pressure stokes the fire growing in you.

You feel the heat of him press up your back as his hand moves now up to your neck, turning your head to kiss him. You push back against him, and he ruts his bulge slightly into your ass. Your lips are hungry in the kiss, but he only provides his lips for you, receiving what your lips want to give and not pouring anything back in return.

He moves his hand back down to your chest, this time slipping beneath the neckline and going flesh to flesh to palm your breast. He kneads diligently, almost methodically, and you know all of this is designed to warm you up, tease you, get you burning for him. He’s still largely a stranger to you, but you also know you can’t resist him. He’s spent so much time already playing with your body. He knows where and how to touch you to make you respond to him after those first days and nights spent naked with him.

Bucky moves again, ending the kiss, drawing away from your back and removing the hand from your breast. You whine, but that hand goes to the small of your back again, the vibranium hand squeezing your hip as he forces you spine to resume the harsh curving posture for him once more.

“We’re only getting started, Omega. Be patient.”

You huff, and he laughs.

The fingers of both his hands slip into the top of your waistband. He slowly pulls your pants and underwear down over your hips, and down your legs to mid-thigh. It restricts your bottom extremities, and that plays into the mental game he’s clearly playing with you. His hands move up the back of your naked thighs, and then he palms your ass with both hands. He squeezes both cheeks, goes back to palming them again, then withdraws his right hand and slaps that cheek harshly. You jump and yelp, but he merely goes back to palming and squeezing, soothing the smacked flesh. Then another slap, and you hiss at the sting over the lingering smart of the first slap. His vibranium hand continues groping your round flesh, but instead of soothing the second smack, his flesh hand dips down to your dripping hole, where he inserts two fingers, then quickly adds a third.

“Alpha,” you moan, and your head falls back, eyes closed both to hold back a couple of tears and to bask in the barrage of sensations.

He doesn’t answer, but his fingers continue dipping in and out, slow and shallow.

He delivers another harsh slap, then immediately returns to the maddening fingering until you’re keening and trying to hump his hand.

Abruptly he grips your hips with both hands and turns you around to face him. The cool metal hand grips you by the neck, tilting your face up helplessly to him, and this kiss is messy, demanding, teeth nipping at your lips. You kiss him back as well as you can as he is in full control of your head and holds you where he wants you. Both your hands hold tightly to his forearm, and you squeeze the bulging muscles there.

His other hand goes to the cut of you again below, but there’s more fervor there this time. He plunders your mouth and plunders your pussy, and you’re losing your breath, but you have no wish for him to relent as you feel the powerful orgasm you crave building and barreling towards you. His fingers curl against the spongy spot on your inner wall. His thumb is demanding against your pulsing clit, and his tongue is licking dominantly into your mouth. You’re trembling and clutching at him, moaning, only when your breath hitches, inches away from bliss, he pulls back.

You cry out as he looms over you. His smirk is cruel, and his eyes spark with fire.

“Alpha!”

He licks his one of his fingers, just one.

“Alpha, please,” you groan.

“My well-mannered Omega,” he coos. “We’ll make a mess of you yet,” he says. You’re unsure whether it’s a threat or a promise, but you have no space or time to think as he moves you again, hoisting and pushing you by the grip on your chin around and away from the table until your back is flush against the wall.

Bucky pushes you down to your knees, pinches your mouth open, then spits on your tongue. "Swallow it."

You don’t think, just swallow as his eyes bore into yours as he towers over you.

He strokes his thumb over your cheek – nearly a caress – and you can’t help leaning ever so slightly into his touch. Then his thumb moves from your cheek to your lips, tracing them before pressing down to open your mouth again. He inserts two of the fingers that had been in your cunt, and you close your mouth and begin to suck without him having to say so. The look on his face shows his approval. As you suck, there’s something so soothing about it – the weight of his fingers pressing down on your tongue, the steady rhythm - that it that lulls you even further into a state of submission for him. Your eyes begin to droop.

He chuckles and withdraws his fingers, wiping them on your face. “Don’t want you lulled away so soon in our evening.”

He begins to unbuckle his belt, and you reach for the button and zipper, but he bats your hands away and slaps your cheek.

You look up sharply at him, reaching to soothe your cheek.

“Ask nicely for your Alpha’s cock, Omega.”

His first nights with you were about physical domination. This is the other side: yielding, submission.

You think best how to ask, before saying, “Please let me put my lips around your cock, Alpha.”

He unbuttons his trousers but keeps his eyes on yours. “Tell me how you want me to use your mouth, Omega,”

“I…” you bite your lip. You aren’t a stranger to sex, but speaking so directly about it isn’t something you’ve done with any of your partners in the past.

Bucky lowers the zipper. He pushes the band of his boxers down far enough to free his cock, and you whimper. He fists his arousal slowly. “You want it, then tell me what you want exactly. You’ve already let me use your body in so many ways, we both know you want more. What are you craving?”

You wait only another beat before answering, “Want you to fuck my throat.”

You are impressed at the evenness of your own tone in that moment, and his lips tick up as well.

Bucky widens his stance, then leans down to wrap his left arm around your head, holding it – almost cradling it – in the crook of his elbow. The he pushes his cock to your lips, you open for him, he pushes in, and starts truly fucking your mouth. The first few thrusts are slow, but insistent. He fills your mouth with more of him with each of those first thrusts. Then the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. He thrusts out and in again, again, again. His other hand strokes your cheek. Then he slaps it, and you groan around his cock.

“Mmmm, fuck you feel good,” he echoes your groan. “Gonna take all of your alpha’s cock down this pretty throat,” he says, and his hand moves down to your neck, feeling himself push in there.

Your eyes are tear up, and the tears quickly start to spill over as he continues to use your throat, never removing himself completely now that he’s overtaken your mouth. He slaps your cheek twice in quick succession and you sob around his cock as much as you can manage. It’s growing harder to breathe, and your chest heaves. You brace yourself against his thighs, and he straightens and pulls out of you.

Bucky moves quickly, taking you by the shoulders and tossing you into the middle of the floor – rough but not violent.

“Clothes off,” he barks, but it’s he didn’t need to employ an alpha command to get you to comply. You barely have enough time to discard your pants and underwear the rest of the way, and only manage to get your shirt over your head in the time it takes him to get naked.

He’s on you the next instant, covering your body with his. With his chest pressed down against yours, you feel how his breathing is just as heavy as your own, glad he’s not as unaffected as he’s tried to play off in this encounter.

You hitch your thighs up around his torso and squeeze your knees around him.

But he doesn’t give you what you’re most anxious for yet, instead pausing to study your face.

“Such a pretty mess,” he admires.

Heat pulses through your body, his praise undeniable to your omega side.

He dips his head to lap up some of your salty tears, tongue dragging slowly up your cheek. When he draws back again, he merely looks at you. His eyes seem to be searching for something, but you don’t know what. You try not to give him anything outside of this moment.

His pelvis is lodged between your hips, so you squirm beneath him, hoping your hot, dripping cunt will call him back to your pressing needs. He groans and drops his forehead to yours, another sign he’s not as cool and detached as he was at the outset.

“Please, please fuck me, Alpha,” you beg.

“Fill you up with my cock? With my seed?”

“Yes, Alpha!”

He draws his hips back and you reach down and help line up his cock with your hole. He spears in with no mercy, and you don’t need or want it. You groan together as he fills you completely.

Your mouths meet again, and it’s a combination of rough messy kisses, nips and bites, licking, mingled heavy breaths. It’s primal and there’s no organized thought from either of you as he continues to fuck you.

The pace at which he thrusts is relentless and just what you need, but also not enough.

You want more and you whimper and beg through your kissing for it.

Bucky continues fucking you and pulls away from your lips, but in no way is he done overwhelming you. Leaning heavily onto his vibranium arm planted next to your head, he moves his other arm and presses his inner wrist up and down your neck insistently. The sound that escapes your mouth is broken and needy as the flooding of his scent directly In and around you engulfs and overwhelms your senses. He sucks on your original bonding mark until you are a heaving, panting, crying mess, clawing at his back, unable to even put coherent words together to beg for him.

His shifts just enough that his pubic bone grinds down against your clit as he pounds into your pussy. You are practically vibrating with the impending orgasm, and as your alpha can undoubtedly sense that through the bond, he bites down on your mark, and you scream and fly into your release. Your walls clench hard around him, and he growls through two more powerful thrusts before he shouts, and you feel the heat of his seed start to fill you up. He pumps and pumps until he’s left every drop he can inside of you, then collapses on top of you.

He doesn’t move, pressing down into you with all his weight as you both recover from the ecstasy you’ve just experienced. You almost move to stroke your fingers up and down his spine, but you quell that omega impulse. You do allow yourself to keep your hands on his back though – still, but connected to this man, your alpha, who dealt you such rough but undeniable pleasure.

Finally, Bucky pushes up off you, but surprises you when he scoops you up and carries you away bridal style, heading toward your bedroom.

“Alpha?”

“You really want to live under the same roof?” he asks.

 “Yes,” you answer simply.

He glances down at your face, brows furrowed, then looks back ahead as he heads down the hallway.

“Okay then.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” he affirms, entering your room.

He tosses you onto the bed, and crawls up over you again. He reaches beneath your back to unclasp your bra, and you let him pull it from your shoulders and throw it off to the side. Closing the gap between your bodies, you relish the feeling of his bare chest against yours, his chest hair teasing your nipples. He grips your chin yet again, this time with his vibranium hand, and looks into your eyes with a steely, cold stare.

“If you’re anything other than the good omega I require, I will send you back here, but it won’t be like this last week has been. You will be in absolute exile. Don’t test me – there will be no chances.”

You give a single nod of your head.

He pushes up and leans back then, kneeling above you.

“But you don’t want to jeopardize or risk that, do you?”

“No, Bucky.”

It’s the first time you’ve called him anything other than alpha and he clocks that, you see the flash of acknowledgement in his eyes.

“You want to be with your alpha, you want the limited freedom you know I can give you if I choose to, but you also have your own agenda”

It wasn’t a question, and you know you can’t fool him – you know he is too smart for that, and you know he knows you are intelligent in your own right. He made it clear when he closed in on your people’s territory that’s why your compliance and claiming you as his omega was part of the deal of surrender to spare any more bloodshed.

“Cross me and your future will only be visitations when I require you to service my ruts.”

You don’t doubt his threat.

“Do we have an accord, Omega?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

The words you two exchanged the fateful night of that initial surrender.

He nods.

“It seems fitting to seal it by kiss.”

You sit up and then kneel before him on the bed, he bends his head down to kiss you. It’s fervent, solemn, but he cuts it off before it develops into anything more.

“Stay here,” he orders, sliding off the bed.

That was an alpha command – wholly unnecessary except to remind you of his power.

You scowl at his retreating form, then huff once he’s out of the room.

He’s quick, and when he comes back in the room, he is slowly stroking his cock with one hand, and holds his phone in the other. He steps up to the edge of the bed.

“A kiss here, as well,” he says, pushing his hips forward.

You crawl to him, lower your head, and kiss his cock. He nods at you, indicating he expects more. You take the tip of his semi-hard cock into your mouth, lave your tongue around the tip, and then suck, looking up at him. He takes a few photos, moaning at your ministrations.

“Fuck you couldn’t look more pretty and more ruined,” he whispers. He tosses the phone down, then pushes you off him and back onto the bed, manhandling your hips to get you planted in the center of the mattress with your thighs splayed open obscenely.

“Only fair for me to finish sealing the agreement and kiss these lips as well.”

He dives in like a man starved, despite the rounds you’ve just finished. He pulls your next orgasm quickly from your fluttering pussy. You would be surprised, only you’ve come to accept that he has already acquired a dangerous – and delicious – knowledge of your body.

He looks up at you and grins and then goes in immediately for another.

You try and push him away and close your legs, feeling overstimulated, but he growls and roughly forces your thighs open again.

“Your one chance of being my good omega is already begun. So, you’re going to let me eat the pussy that belongs to me until you’re a sobbing overstimulated mess and think you can’t possibly take any more, but you will. And since this should be the last night we ever spend in this bed, when I’ve had my fill of lapping at your sweet, dripping cunt, I’m going to see if I can’t fuck you hard and long enough to break the bed.”

You can only hope your gamble to deal with the devil of HYDRA will not be your undoing.

full Fine Line Collection

Everyone check your pulse, please. Mine is gone.

I'm not saying this is officially a series, but I think we HAVE fallen into a collection territory... Unless y'all are through with this Alpha Bucky...

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[cb-writes-stuff]

I am doing a note challenge thing

UPDATED RULES

5 comments per person

No spam reblogging—only a few times a day, please

No tag limit

White means the milestone hasn’t been reached

Orange means it’s reached but pending

Green means it’s reached and done or ongoing

25 notes - Start brushing my teeth every morning after breakfast (if/when I remember)

50 notes - Buy little bells to put on my backpack (to go ding ding when I walk)

100 notes - Start doing a little bit of Japanese review every day

150 notes - Be more consistent about using Tuesdays after class to do online class work

200 notes - Draw a new PFP for myself

250 notes - Get back to reading Stormlight Archive (it’s been like. A year. I never even finished the first book.)

300 notes - Purchase solid-color thigh highs

350 notes - Learn a new song in Japanese

400 notes - Write a continuation of Too Many Hats (continued from whatever I last wrote, might do this anyway but no guarantees)

450 notes - Purchase patterned thigh-highs (I will need suggestions though)

500 notes - Start going to social events at college

600 notes - Post a recording of my singing (a Japanese song ofc, those are easier)

700 notes - Draw a PFP/banner (idk which) featuring my facets

800 notes - Buy shirts and stuff from games/things I like (instead of not being attached to my shirts)

850 notes - Stop only eating food I brought with me / generally get more protein

900 notes - Be more consistent about going to bed before midnight

1000 notes - Infodump about the magic system in Project Opal

1250 notes - Start writing Too Many Hats updates regularly and post it on tumblr

1500 notes - Post Too Many Hats to AO3 as well

2000 notes - Consider that maybe it is possible for me to be happy, somehow

5000 notes - Stop ignoring things that might help me (not telling you what they are though) (I’m never gonna get this many notes)

Every 50 notes (up to 5000) - Write 100 words in Project Opal

[ljubimaya]

𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐌'𝐒 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒

With the weather getting colder, you might find yourself cuddled up in blankets and sipping on some hot chocolate. Perhaps you would have an old, rugged looking book right on your coffee table waiting to be picked up. With fairytale season being in full swing, perhaps you would like to indulge in some nostalgic stories of enchanted forests, wicked witches, cursed princesses and bloodhungry beasts?

But oh, were your favorite fairytales always this 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨?

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓

GRIMM'S NIGHTMARES is an exclusively dark content collab inspired by the dark fairytales collected and written down by the Grimm brothers.The central theme of the collab are dark fairytales, but you are more than free to enter the collab with mythical figures (werewolves, vampires, ghosts, etc) without any fairytale in mind. Despite being inspired by the Grimm brothers, you are more than free to be inspired by other classic tales from around the world. 

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

𓆩𓆪 You have to be over the age of 18 to enter

𓆩𓆪 This collab is strictly a x reader collab

𓆩𓆪 All fandoms are welcome to enter

𓆩𓆪 Aged up characters are allowed, but please don’t age them down 

𓆩𓆪 Your entry has to be a minimum of 500 words long, otherwise the sky’s the limit

𓆩𓆪 Be aware that this is a dark content collab first and foremost. You are allowed to go as crazy as you would like, but make sure to tag all the trigger warnings accordingly

𓆩𓆪 As mentioned previously, you are free to enter with a mythical figure instead of a fairytale

𓆩𓆪 To enter, you need to send me an ask or message with the character(s) and the mythical figure/fairytale you wanna base your fic on

𓆩𓆪 You are allowed to submit up to two entries

𓆩𓆪 You are allowed ro write one fic with up to three characters (character x reader x character x character)

𓆩𓆪 No double entries!Meaning I won’t allow the same character in the same fairytale au (for example, I won’t allow two people to write about vampire Toji). First come, first serve

𓆩𓆪 I take the right of not accepting your entry. To ensure the best possible experience for me as the host, and you as the writer, I will have to make sure you don’t fit my dni criteria 

𓆩𓆪 Make sure to tag me and use the tag 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐌'𝐒 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁 so I can reblog and add your fic to the masterlist

𓆩𓆪  The soft deadline for the collab is the 1th of April 2025. Please notify me if you need more time or if you would like to opt out of the collab  

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐒

TOKYO REVENGERS

Werewolf! Baji Keisuke x Fem! Reader (Inspired by The little red riding hood) by @/ljubimaya

Mad hatter! Hanma Shuji x Reader (inspired by Alice in Wonderland) by @6ronze

Demon! Baji Keisuke x Reader by @keisukes-number1

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE

Demon King! Sylus x Reader by @aztecbrujeria

JUJUTSU KAISEN

Vampire! Gojo Satoru x Reader by @avatarofstars

Death! Geto Suguru x Reader by @sugurouge (Inspired by Death's messengers)

ARCANE

Warwick/Vander x Reader by @fortluocha (Inspired by Beauty and the Beast)

MY HERO ACADEMIA

Dabi x Reader by @amalainse (Inspired by The Frog Prince)

HAIKYUU

Oikawa Tooru x Reader by @amalainse (Inspired by The Little Mermaid)

[nonotnolan]

Group Project

"I don't care if most people skip this step," Aiden said, taking a pre-swap photo with Nathan. "I still don't completely trust Swapper technology, just... I don't have many other options. Professor Carmichael has been riding our asses all semester, and this damn group project is worth 50% of my grade. I, uhh... I appreciate you doing this for me."

"You're the one paying me," Nathan said, grinning into the mirror with two thumbs up. "As long as you follow the basic rules, I don't really care what sort of extra safeguards you want to throw in. And don't worry, I think it's cute. Commencing swap... now."

Aiden barely had time to panic before he found himself staring up into his former face. The biggest shock was feeling Nathan's coiffed hair brushing against his forehead. The nerd came well recommended by Frat Row-- at this point, he probably spent more time outside of his body than inside of it. Certainly it hadn't been Nathan spending time at the gym to earn these arms. He had graduated college last year, but instead of getting a full time job, he hired out his services to anyone who needed to pass tests or make presentations. At $500 per swap, the legality was the only barrier to making it into a career. "So, you remember the rules, right?" said Aiden's body.

Hearing his voice like that was incredibly odd. "Yeah, we've got to stay swapped for 48 hours or else the Campus safety test will know we used our Swappers. You aren't liable if you get caught, I already paid you up front, no refunds. We had to jailbreak our Swappers to override the 12 hour standard limit, so I'll get arrested if I try to contact customer service. Anything else I'm missing?"

"No hard drugs, but any amount of sex and alcohol is fair game," Nathan said, as he reached into Aiden's waistband to fondle his new package. "Nice dick, my guy," he said, giving him another thumbs up. "That's gotta be, what... at least seven inches?"

Aiden blushed, deeply embarrassed to see his body acting so corny. "A bit under seven and a half, yeah," he said. "Aa-anyway, I'll be at the house if you need me."

"Have fun," Nathan said, giving him an exaggerated wink and slapping him on the shoulders. "I've swapped with several of your brothers. I know you're gonna have a good time."

Preston was outside, taking advantage of one of the last warm afternoons before fall turned into winter. "Damn, bro, you hired Nathan? Looks like someone was worried about failing their classes. So, who are you?"

"It's Aiden," I said, feeling very self conscious about my newer, frailer body as I found myself staring at Preston's hairy chest.

He just laughed. "Wait, Aiden? I didn't even know you had a Swapper! Damn, dude, you must be desperate to pass."

"I... yeah," I said, avoiding eye contact. Was Nathan a gay man? That was fine if he was, just... did that sort of thing stick to the body? He'd never really noticed the cleft of Preston's chin before, but he was-- Nathan's body was-- incredibly horny.

"A word of advice, Newbie," he said, sitting down his book. "Most of the Swapper nerds, or at least the ones worth hiring? They're gay men. Don't try to fight it. Just enjoy the ride. You'll be back to your no-homo self in 48 hours." He flexed his chest, letting his pecs bounce. "Or maybe you'll be a bit more worldly," he said, laughing as Aiden tried not to sneak a glance. "Getting a compliment from a gay dude feels real good."

Aiden practically sprinted toward the main doors, eager to escape the awkward situation. "Yeah I'll keep that in mind thanks bye," he muttered, cursing Nathan's gym shorts and their inability to hide an erection.

"Well, damn bro, look who it is! Someone hired Nathan!"

Sitting over in the lobby were two other guys who were using their Swappers for the weekend. The guy in black was probably Carter-- the dude had a lot of Puma gear, and it was possible he'd changed shirts at some point. Besides, it was hard to imagine anyone else scowling that hard. The blonde guy, however... that could be anyone.

"Uhh, hey... guys..." Aiden said, quickly learning that Nathan had a foot fetish. "You, uhhh... you also have a group project tomorrow or something?"

The blonde guy just laughed, closing his laptop as he stood up. "Oh, I've got a group project in mind, alright. I was just telling Carter here, even though both of us look like twinks, neither one of us are really bottoms. But with Nathan's body here, well... I think that solves our problem. Don't you?"

He nodded, following wordlessly after the two men as they entered the nearby library room for more privacy. Just enjoy the ride, Preston had said. Aiden suspected he was going to be doing a lot of riding tonight.

[themyriadpoet]

Hey, guys! I gift another fic for @pompadourrguy, featuring TFO Starscream and cybertronian!reader who are both tired as HELL.

Recharge

Warnings: None

Word Count: 500 +

Long into the hours of twilight, you studied near your desk, alone and focused on the task at hand. Stopping Sentinel. Plot after plot, you worked, trying your utmost best to not only end the scourge of a false Prime, but to please the spark of the one you held the most dear. The High Guard toiled tirelessly, but you aimed to surpass even your greatest limits. Competence was key, and procrastination and insubordination couldn’t be tolerated.

Still, you possessed quite a few doubts, namely one that involved your sparkmate. Starscream. Lately, the amount of recharge that he was receiving was truly concerning. It was too little, far too little for your liking. 

But how could you convince him to rest?

Just as you felt yourself nodding off, you heard the sound of a vocalizer clearing. Surprised, you lifted your helm to lock optics with Starscream. For a moment, he lingered near the doorway before entering your shared quarters with a casual sway of his frame. 

“Oh! Sir!” You quickly stood. “I didn’t see you there.”

Starscream smirked, finding amusement in your words.

“Interesting. I was standing here for some time.”

A bit ashamed, you blushed and played with your digits.

“Oh…”

He neared your desk, observing the various blueprints and schematics. As he did so, you paid close attention to his movements and his expressions. He was slow, much slower than usual, only furthering your belief that he was not receiving the proper recharge.

Before he could even speak, you stepped forward.

“Uh, Starscream, can we…talk for a moment?”

The mech cocked his helm to the side.

“I suppose we can.” He sat on his reclined berth. “Does something bother you?”

After finding a chair to sit across from him, you allowed a sigh to leave your dermas. Instead of thinking of what to say, you decided to just be honest and speak from the spark. 

“I mean, I’m in no position to question your work ethic, however, I…I worry that you haven’t been receiving adequate recharge.” 

Starscream didn’t respond right away. His crimson optics glistened as he thought to himself, his wings twitching lightly. He gazed at you, his expression firm but softer than ever before, seemingly absorbing your appearance. 

“Well, in that case, I could say the same for you.”

You blinked.

“Really?”

Starscream’s stare hardened only slightly.

“Of course. Everyone can notice how tense you are.” He frowned, leaning backwards a bit to think some more. “As integral as the mission is to our cause, I…cannot ignore the needs of my conjux.”

Your spark fluttered at his words, a shy smile gracing your faceplate. It was rare of him to display such softness to anyone, but you supposed that you were the exception, being his beloved and all. 

Starscream patted the space next to him.

“Come. Sit with me. I’ve already notified Soundwave and Shockwave. We can recharge for a short while.”

Slowly but eagerly, you did as he told you, nestling against his frame on the berth. With your servos and legs intertwined as best as they could be, Starscream turned his helm towards you with a faint grin.

“Comfortable?”

“Very.”

As the two of you fell back into a slumbering position, you drifted off into recharge without even noticing it. 

With his frame against yours, Starscream began to speak.

“My dear, I-”

But you were already fast asleep. 

With no one watching him, Starscream smiled, pressing his helm against your faceplate.

Divider Credit: @/diviniyae

[illyrian-dreamer]

Congratulations on 500 darling!!!!!!!! Can I please request 30 with azriel? Thank youuuuuuu 🤍🤍🤍🤍

Confessions at Starfall

Azriel x Reader one shot

Summary: It's the night of Starfall, and you're hopelessly in love with the Shadowsinger. When Azriel keeps flirting with Elain, you're pushed to your final limits.

HELLO AND WELCOME TO DAY 1 OF 5 FOR 500!

Thank you @cityofidek for requesting 30 - Unrequited love/pushing loved one away.

Warnings: None.

Words: 3,048

--------

It was the night of Starfall, and you were utterly miserable. 

Sitting at the dining table with your family, the rest of the inner circle exchanged jokes and light-hearted conversations as plates of steaming roasts, vegetables and pies were passed around. While it was usually your favourite holiday – the night ahead promising dancing and celebration, you were feeling far from festive. 

It had everything to do with the male you loved, who sat across from you now, dotting over Elain Archeron. His eyes rarely left her, and you would know, because yours rarely left him. You noted the way he sat, his body tilted slightly in her direction, his wings folded back to make provide her more space to move. To the untrained eye, it wouldn't look like much – but for Azriel this spoke volumes. 

That was the kind of detail you had learned to read over the past year. It had been twelve excruciating months since you had realised your own feelings for the Shadowsinger. Gone was the comfortable friendship you two shared – instead it was quickly replaced with blushing, timidness and uncontrollable awkwardness, all thanks to you. And while you once held out hope that Azriel might notice, or even return your feelings, overtime your friendship had drifted – pushing him further into the arms of the middle Archeron sister. 

Elain made you seethe with jealousy. It wasn’t her fault, she was nice really, all be it a bit simple. But she had a way about her, like a doe-eyed fawn their first steps. It made you uncontrollably angry the way people would line up to help her, especially the males. Not to mention her undeniable beauty. You knew she and Azriel made a very handsome couple. 

So you sat here tonight, marking every bit of attention the Spymaster gave Elain, longing for him to look at you the way he did her. Jealousy didn't even begin to cover it. 

“Y/N?”

You blinked, not realising Azriel was speaking to you even though you had stared off straight in his direction. You coughed, straightening in you seat. “Sorry, pardon?” Your heart beat at the thought he might have started a conversation with you. 

“Can you pass the potatoes?”

Your heart dropped, and you tried to hide the disappointment on your face. Of course he wasn't interested in talking to you, he hadn't in weeks. Without replying, you passed over the dish, reaching straight for the white potatoes instead of the orange kind. Azriel didn't like how sweet they were, and you knew that. It was the kind of detail you remembered about someone when you’re hopelessly in love.

“Ooh, can I please have the sweet potatoes?” Elain chirped. “They’re my favourite.” Of course the sweetest female in all of Prythian liked yams the most. You had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. You passed the dish over silently, and watched Azriel load up his plate with those too. It took everything you had to stop the scowl that twitched at your eyes. 

You pushed your fork and knife to the centre of your plate, suddenly having lost your appetite. 

————

The luminescent glow of the stars shooting above had been going for over an hour, and the party was in full swing. You breathed in, letting the magnificent sight lighten your heart the way they did the night sky. 

Gathered on a large marble terrace of Rhys and Feyre’s river home, almost a hundred guests had come in fine gowns and suits to celebrate the event. 

Wearing a dress of midnight blue that sparkled with night, you laughed lightheartedly as Cassian and Nesta joked with you, champagne in hand. The musicians at the base of the terrace reclaimed their seats, raising their instruments and beginning a new set of elegant melody. 

“I hope you don’t mind Y/N, but I must show off my mates dancing,” he winked at you before offering his hand to Nesta. She smiled, placing a delicate hand atop of his, nodding to you before being lead to the dance floor. 

Couples now twirled and stepped in unison, the sight almost as magical as the sky above. You felt a large presence slide beside you, and your heart fluttered as shadows caught the corner of your eye. 

“Are you enjoying your night?” Azriel had finally come to spend some time with you. 

“Of course,” you lied, smiling softly as you gulped the rest of your champaign, earning a slight raise of Azriel’s brow. “And yourself?”

Azriel nodded. “It’s as beautiful as always.”

“Yes, it is.” You couldn't help but stare straight into his hazel eyes, your heart lurching as your words hung with double meaning. Ask me to dance, you begged in your head. We dance every year on Starfall, c’mon, just ask me. If Azriel was paying any attention, he would have read your pleading gaze. But he wasn’t, of course, because his eyes fell beyond you, at the pretty Archeron who wore a gown of delicate blush. 

You looked down, suddenly overwhelmed with insecurity as you smoothed the ripples in your dress. Of course he didn't like you – you looked like a witch of death compared to the femininity that blossomed from Elain. 

“You look quite beautiful tonight.”

Your heart leaped. Your anger from earlier quickly vanished as you breathed in to thank Azriel, already blushing. But as you looked up, your heart immediately sank as you realised Azriel wasn't complimenting you at all, but rather Elain, who had made her way over. 

It felt much like being punched in the gut.

Your mouth was dry as you silently watched Azriel offer her an arm, her petite hand slipping through as he guided her to the dance floor. 

That felt much like being kicked in the gut while you were down.

You couldn't help the steady flow of tears that now stained your cheeks, or the broken crumple that formed on your face. Unable to withstand any more blows, you fled the party.

————

Slumped against the frame of a large window, your body shook with cries so hard they fell silent. You didn't care if it was the most special night of the year, you had never felt more abandoned, underserving and unloved. 

You were crying too hard to hear the footsteps that trudged up to the lookout room you were hiding in, and you didn't hear the faint knock at the door. It wasn't until Cassian placed a gentle hand on your shoulder that you noticed his presence, his face soft with concern as he crouched next to you. 

You blinked back at him, your vision completely blurred by your tears. You were broken and there was no hiding it. 

“I love him, Cas,” you sobbed, your voice break halfway through as a cry shook through your body again. 

“Oh, Y/N,” Cassian said softly, his voice full of understanding as he immediately embraced you. You flung yourself to him, wrapping your arms around his solid waist as he rocked and stroked your hair. You weren't surprised that Cassian knew, anyone could have noticed months of hopeless pining and one-sided puppy love.

You continued to cry, your voice muffle by the embrace. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing Y/N! There’s not a thing wrong with you.”

“Then why doesn't he love me?”

“Because he’s a damn fool.”

You sniffed against his chest, trying to regain yourself. “But he loves her.”

Cassian sighed, the strokes on your hair pausing for just a moment. “I’m not sure that’s true.”

“Of course he does. She’s perfect.” Jealousy was not a good colour on you, but you were unsuccessful at hiding the bite in your words. 

Cassian drew back, levelling his eyes to yours. “I know it hurts right now doll, but I promise, any male that doesn't see you for the beautiful, intelligent and fiery bombshell you are, is an outright imbecile. Even if it is my own brother.”

You chuckled at that, shaking your head as you gently wiped the makeup your were sure had stained under your eyes. “Thank you Cass,” you whispered, reaching for his hands tightly. He stood now, leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead. 

“Will you come back to the party with me?”

You forced a fake smile, but shook your head. “I happiest up here. Thank you though Cass, I mean it.”

Cassian nodded, throwing a tight smile of sympathy before ducking out of the room. 

You paced to the other side of the viewing room to the window facing the terrace below where celebrations continued. Dresses of all colours fanned against the marble of the terrace, the music flowing up to the height of the room. And the stars, Gods they were beautiful. 

You saw Cassian rejoin Nesta, his arms snaking around her waist as they admired the view. Next to them were your High Lord and Lady, and beside them, a dress of pale blush. Your heart stung with envy at the site of Elain, and you narrowed your eyes as you scanned the crowd for Azriel. 

“Y/N?”

You jumped, whirling on the spot to find Azriel sheepishly standing in the doorway. 

You cleared your throat, quickly wiping under your eyes again. He had hurt you, broken you without even knowing it. You straightened your spine – the least you could do was have your pride. 

“Are you ok? Cassian said you left the party.”

You nodded tightly, not trusting yourself to speak. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The words flew out of your mouth too quickly. 

Azriel frowned, stepping through the door towards you. You stiffened, drawing one step back. “Go back to the party Azriel,” you said tightly.

“Have you been crying?”

You scowled. How dare he note that detail when he was the one who caused it. “Don’t pretend to care,” you spat. Gone was the ache in your heart from moments ago. Seeing Azriel here now, it was quickly replaced with fiery hurt.

“What?” Azriels brow was now contort with confusion as he reached for you. You stepped back again, your arms folding over your chest.

“Why are you angry with me?”

“How can you ask that?”

“Is it because we’ve been distant lately?” So he did have some clue after all. You didn't answer, instead breaking from the intensity of his stare, your eyes focusing outside as glowing spirits that shot past the other side of the window.

“Listen, I know I haven't been around much, or maybe it’s that we haven't spent time together lately. But things have been difficult between us for a while now Y/N. I can't help but feel you’re pushing me away.”

A scoff escaped you before you could stop it. “I’m pushing you away?!”

“Yes!” He exclaimed, his hands outstretched. “For months now. You don't open up to me like you used to, every time I look at you, you look away, and you never suggest spending anytime together.”

You blinked at him, biting your lip as you tried to process what he had said. You hadn’t realised that in an attempt to burry your feelings for Azriel, you had actually pushed him away. 

“Tell me, what have I done?” Azriel’s voice was pleading as he stepped closer.

“You haven't done anything,” your voice was barely a whisper, and you were unable to meet his eyes. You had stepped away so he could explore his feelings for Elain, that was your truth. But when was the last time he made an effort for you? “But you can't pretend like you’ve been trying either, Azriel.”

He sighed then, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re right, I’m sorry ok? I’ll make more of an effort from here on.”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes again as you blinked quickly, casting your gaze sideways yet again. You couldn't tell him – it would ruin everything.

For once, Azriel caught on to how upset you were. “You’re still angry with me?”

“Gods, Az! I wish I was angry!”

The male blinked at you before frustration overtook. “Well perhaps you could stop talking in riddles, and actually tell me what’s wrong!” he gritted.

You let out a quick breath, shaking your hands as you blinked upwards, trying your best to stop the tears that welled. “I can’t,” you whispered. It would kill you to say it, and it would kill everything you two had. 

Azriel’s gaze softened when he saw how tortured you were. Uncrossing his arms, he walked over, cupping the side of your face. “You can tell me anything, Y/N. Just tell me, what’s going on?”

His hazel eyes scanned your face, begging you to open up. But there was so much at stake here, and even if you confessed, you knew his heart lay with Elain. 

You shook your head, moving out of his hold. “If you can’t see it for yourself Azriel, I don't know what to tell you.”

Azriel frowned. “You’re speaking in riddles again.” 

You threw your hands up in defeat. “Perhaps I am,” you sighed, suddenly drained of any energy you had left. “Listen, I’m exhausted. Please Az, just enjoy the rest of your night, ok?”

“I’ll walk you to your room.”

“No,” you said too quickly. Guilt struck you at the twinge of hurt on Azriel’s face. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” Your voice was tight, and you quickly turned your heel, leaving Azriel still and silent as he watched you leave.

These feelings – these stupid, foolish, unrequited feelings. They hurt you and everyone involved, and you hated yourself for it. It was obvious Azriel didn’t return your affection, so why did you have to drag him down and cause a scene? You needed to do better, needed to push your love for him down, burry it in the depths of your heart so it would no longer get in his way. 

————

You were in your room for barely an hour before there was a forceful knock on your door. You jumped, pulling down the length of your silk night slip as you spoke out loud. “Who is it?”

You door flew open then, Azriel’s large frame filling the entrance as he stepped inside, his expression wild, with another emotion you couldn't quite place. His wings were outstretched, and you could tell he had winnowed here hurriedly as his chest heaved with quick breaths.

Shocked, your eyes darted over him in panic. “Azriel, what –?”

Azriel stalked towards you, closing the distance as he towered over you.

“You love me?”

You gawked, your eyes moving back and forth as you tried to connect the dots. “Who–?”

“You love me?”

Cassian. You gritted your teeth and your fists clenched. How could he share something so private? 

“No! I mean, yes, I mean, I have feelings for–”

“You, love, me…” he repeated, slower this time. It was no longer a question.

Your body burned in shame – you needed air. Pushing the double doors to your private balcony open, you grasped the railing as you tried to breath deep. Azriel was right on your tail.

“Az, I’m sorry. I’ll get over you. I promise. These feelings, they’re— they’re only temporary, I swear. I—I’ll get over you–”

Azriel bought a single scarred finger to your lips, hushing you instantly. You swallowed, panic in your eyes as they darted between his hazel ones, trying to read his reaction. As per usual, Azriel’s face was unreadable, the only movement was the gold that swirled within them. 

“How long have you loved me?” he asked, his voice cold as ice. You felt as if you were tied to a chair, under his interrogation. 

“Twelve months,” you whispered against his finger, your cheeks stinging in shame. 

Azriel raised his brows. “So for a whole year, you have loved me, without so much as a thought to share that information?”

Your frowned in confusion. “I had no plans on telling you, Azriel. I didn't want to get in your way. You and Elain–”

“What of Elain and I?”

You levelled a look at him now. “C’mon Az, its clear you have affections for her.”

“You have no idea how I feel.” There was a bite to his words, something you weren't used to from the Shadowsinger. “I am a friend to Elain, because her transition as fae has been difficult. I enjoy her company, that’s true. But I am there to support her as my High Lady’s sister, and a member of our family. If I am someone she can trust, someone she can open up to, I will be there to support her.”

You sighed. “I understand that Az, but–”

The finger returned to your lips, cutting you off. “That does not mean –” Azriel drawled, his voice low, almost dangerous. “– that I have affections for her.” He was dancing with your emotions, using them against you to teach you a lesson.

You blinked back at him, your heart fluttering with realisation before denial quickly took over. “You love her,” you whispered, more to yourself, refusing to believe the dynamics you had built in your head were an embellishment of your own idiocy. 

“I do not.”

“You do.”

“I do not.” Azriel’s voice was a growl now.

He moved in closer, and your heart began to thunder. The finger against your lip fell to cup your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. Azriel’s eyes swirled with dominance, his expression almost predatory as shadows danced between you. He leaned in close, his fresh scent filling your nose as his lips were now mere inches from your own. 

“I have affections for someone else,” he said huskily. “One might even say I love her, for many years now.”

It took all that you had not to gawk. Instead, you kept your eyes on his. “Don’t mock,” you replied, your voice a half gasp as you tried to control your breathing. 

Azriel’s mouth pulled into a smirk. “I’m not mocking.”

You flicked your gaze to his lips, then back up to his eyes, your expression bewildered and completely uncool. 

“Azriel–” was all you got out before he closed his lips over yours, his arms snaking around your waist as he dipped you back, kissing you as the stars continued to fall around you.

--------

AN: I just want to say another HUGE thank you to anyone who's been following along with my fics, you mean the world to me <3 I hope you liked this story, I would love to hear any feedback you have. Please take care, and comment if you'd like to join any of my tag lists ✨:)

Tag list:@kennedy-brooke @cosmic-whispers @jazmin2211 @psychobookaholic @fieldofdaisiies

[malebodyexhibit]

To Break in New Clothing

The guy paid me $50 to wear this jockstrap everyday when I went to the gym. He asked that they get exceptionally sweaty. I’m not one to turn down money for dignity, so I agreed.

I had a suspicion of what he was doing with my jockstrap when I gave it back to him, but that just made me more turned on. I took a drink as I rested between sets. With the 3-inch inseam shorts, I could feel the summer breeze airing my puckered hole. I took a breath and rubbed my hand along my hairy chest, smearing the sweat down my abs toward my dick and balls. Speaking of balls, I adjusted them, rubbing the jockstrap cloth deeper into the swampy groin. I guessed I like the thought of the guy inhaling my stench while he jerked off. He wasn’t attractive, but the fact he wanted to breathe in my man musk was enough to make me precum, and maybe I should charge him more for how much of my precum I soaked the dirty jockstrap with.

When I met the guy again, he handed me the money and I made a show of slipping off my shorts, then pulling off the jockstrap. The rush of cool air caused an immediate reaction to my sweaty cock, but I tossed the strap to the guy and dressed myself again. I was hoping for a bit more, but the guy thanked me and left. I was a bit disappointed. I was hoping for some begging, some desperate attempt to check me out, but nope. It was suspicious, so I decided to follow the guy. What was his deal?

It took a while, but I found the guy in the hills out of the city limits. I hid myself behind some rocks, peeking from the corner, conspicuous as I was with no underwear in running shorts. Then what I saw was impossible.

The guy placed the jockstrap on the ground and uttered some words then... the jockstrap transformed into a cute twink. His hair was messy; he was nude; he was drenched in sweat; and he gave a relaxed, content grin to the guy. He looked beyond satisfied. He pulled on some shorts, and it looked as if he had just completed a run. He was so sweaty.

“God, you stink,” the guy said to the nude twink. “Did you enjoy your day out? I can’t imagine why you like it.”

“I enjoyed it,” the twink said. He slurred his words as he was buzzed. A lazy smile melted on his lips. “He was a sweaty boy today. We worked out and he messaged me against his cock. He was getting hard and I drank his precum. I think he likes it just as much as I do.” The twink started to walk towards the guy.

“Hey, stay away. Take a shower first, then pay me.”

“Why would I shower? I wish I could smell like this forever. Maybe you could make me his gym sock, but I would miss his dick. He finally broke me in, but I’m gonna be broke at this rate.”

I could’t believe what I was hearing. This whole time, the jockstrap I wore and abused with my sweat was actually a person. The thought was hot. With this info, I imagined all the ways I could play with this gay guy--make his dreams come true. I stepped from behind the rocks. Both men glanced at me with wide eyes.

“Hey, I’m gonna need my jockstrap back,” I said. I walked closer to the twink. He smelled absolutely ripe. He smelled like my gym bag, and he needed to get back there.

The twink gave a nervous smile and backed away. “Look man, there must be some misunderstanding.”

“No no, I don’t think I missed understood anything. I want my jockstrap back. I’m not finished with it yet.” I stared him in the eye. “Maybe I want gym socks instead or even a cum rag.” I turned to the other guy, “How much to get what I want?”

The guy stammered and settled on $500. “You say these words to change him.” He spoke something in another language. “And if you want him to become something else, just say it also. But make sure you change him human every once in a while.”

“Why?”

“So he can eat.” The guy seemed confused at my question. “And shower and live his life.”

I stared them both in the eye. “He eats when I tell him to and his life is over. My cum rag shouldn’t worry about his life.” I spoke the word and watched the twink shrunk and fell into the street as a piece of clothing. I swear I saw him smiling, and I had smiled back.

[bokettochild]

Sorry this is like 600 words instead of 500, but this is one of my favorite interpretations of Twilight's backstory ever, and I would love to hear more (given I've understood the prompt right, which I hope that I have). This is from Rope Burns.  “I grew up on a military base,” Twilight snorts, “trust me, soldiers are as dumb as rocks.” 

  And well, Legend having a family isn’t that crazy in comparison to that. 

  Warriors starts, staring at the rancher, blinking slowly as though still trying to process the words of the other. “I’m sorry- you what?” 

  “I thought you grew up in Ordon?” Wild questions, turning to his mentor, confusion on clear display. 

  Yeah, Wind has a feeling that Wild’s story is well and truly over now, but he supposes it’s worth it. Learning something about their rancher is, he supposes, better than hearing the rest of the story the cook had already spoiled the ending too, especially as the limit of their knowledge about the rancher at this point is that he’s from Ordon, used to work as a ranch hand, and is descended from Time and Malon somehow. The fact that he’s a hero goes without saying, but the ranch hand nearly never shares anything about himself, even though he seems to love talking about his hometown and all the people in it, to the point where some of them feel they know the village and its residents already, despite still not having been there yet. 

  Yet, the rancher is grinning as he leans back, the sprig of hylian rice between his teeth bouncing some as he flashes a wolfish grin at them. “Well, yeah, sort of.” 

  “Sort of?” Time nudges his pup, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Their leader isn’t keen on them being cryptic with him, even though he frequently does so himself. The hypocrite. “Explain.” 

  The rancher chuckles, a nervous little thing, but obediently pulls himself up, resting his weight over his knees as he looks around the fire at all of them, eyes glinting slightly. “Well, y’see, I a’tually grew up in a citadel on the edge of Hyrule.” 

  Warriors jaw drops so fast. “Holy Hylia you’re a military brat.” 

 He can’t help it; he bursts into laughter. Yes, objectively, it’s funny to see Warriors so shocked, but from an outsider's perspective it is so, so much funnier because he’s met Warriors parents and sisters, and he’s seen for himself the proof that the captain is anything but the sissy city boy Twilight likes to accuse him of being. No, the captain was born in Hebra, so far out from cities that he thought Kakariko was huge. Meanwhile, it turns out their “country boy” actually grew up in a military base? Not the country? It turns out Twilight is the military brat and Warriors was the hill-billy? How the turn tables have turned! 

  The rest of the heroes stare at him, confused, but the captain just rolls blue eyes, pinching the tip of his ear to make him shut up. “Ignore him.” 

  Twilight’s dark gaze flicks between them, but apparently, he determines to listen to the captain for once. “Right, so, my dad was a’tually a knight from some family o’ knights or summat, an’ my mom comes from desert folk, so I grew up on the border studyin’ with other knights’ kids to take on our fathers’ duties ’n protect Hyrule one day.” 

 The stares are very, very evident by now, although Legend’s in particular is strangely intense, studying the other with his mouth half open like he’s got a question about the rancher’s words.  

 Broad shoulders shrug, a bit awkward as the rancher grins at them. “My friends growin’ up were dumber’n rocks, an’ every knight I’ve met since is the same, so yeah. Knights ‘re stupid.”

Ooh, this one will be fun!

So, I actually was taught, coming into the LU fandom, that Twilight was basically raised in Ordon, with some people saying he came as a small child, mayb Rusl found him as a baby, all aloe and needing care, or maybe he was brought there by the hero's shade when he was still small, but nearly every source I looked to in the fandom said Twilight was young when he, the only Hylian in the village, cae to Ordon.

But then I read the Twilight Princess Manga! Chapter 6 of the manga, aptly titled "Link's Past" shows us him as a young boy, about nine or ten, living, as Twi says in your selection, in a citadel on the hylian border. Twilight's explanation (telling his story to Rusl) in manga goes thus:

"As it bordered the desert, my old home town was responsible for frontier security. It was ruled by the Rufflio, a family of noble ancestry. Upon becoming adults, we were to protect the frontiers of Hyrule. The young boys, holding onto the pride of that duty, spent their days training in the ways of the sword." (Twilight Princess, Volume One, Chapter 6, by Akira Himekawa)

In the past, I've never had an opportunity to address that. if you follow my works, then you know I draw heavily on the manga in regards to Legend's history and past, but I write Twilight much less than legend (understatement of the year). That said, their manga's definitely give me a better take on their characters, whereas Four Swords and Minish Cap were more fun than informative, and Ocarina of Time just made me think Time was a pain in the ass and a freaking weird kid (I have not finished the manga yet for that reason, despite owning it).

I wasn't really planning on talking about Twilight's past here at all, but it sort of sprung upon me in an inspired fit and I decided, what the heck? Why not!

The references to his mother being of the "desert folk" is in reference to how some people like to headcannon that twilight is part Gerudo, which I thoroughly enjoy and support! So, for fun, his mom is Gerudo.

His dad though? Well, you see, that comes up in the manga too! Not his dad specifically, but actually, Ashei's! The TP manga actually has Ashei tell Twilight that she is one of the last descendants of the Knights of Hylia (also known as the Knights of Hyrule, depending on the translation/game version), and that Snowpeak fortress is actually their ancestral home!

Now, you may be saying "Ketto, I've heard of the Knights of Hylia before, or at least, I think I have?" and if you've been around my blog/fics enough, you sure as sugar have! the Knights of Hylia are, famously, the group of knights who worked beside the sages mentioned in A Link to the Past to seal Ganon away! More importantly though, they're the descendants and carriers of the legacy of the Hero of Time!

So, if Twilight is cannonically Time's descendant, that would mean that one of his parents was likely from the families that made of the Knights of Hylia! Mystery solved!

Additionally, this would make him and Ashei very distant cousins. And for extra kicks, since Legend is also, famously, descended from the same line of knights (albeit in another timeline) he would also be their cousin! I've been tempted to address that for forever, especially with the Snowpeak detail, because honestly, I get a kind of Kaer Morhen vibe from it and SO want to play with that, but I digress!

Twilight's ancestry is part Gerudo, for fun, and descended from Time, which is fun I don't have to create because it's cannon! He grew up on the edges of Hyrule for the most part, and when he talks aout being picked on by the other kids in this fic, it's because they are sort of aggressie to him in the flashbacks he has in the manga. Granted they're a bunch of boys aged 10-13, so they're all a bit aggressive to each other, but I imagine, being probably the only part Gerudo among them, he did get picked on at least a bit, hence the premise of this fic :)

-

Bonus! Legend's staring is, in fact, because he really, really, really wants to ask twilight which Knight Family he hails from. He is making a connection and he's not sure what to think about it LOL

Warriors on the other hand, who I fervently headcanon as Celtic, is, like Wind, realizing that a reverse-uno has been played here. He, a peasant from the far north and abject poverty, is traveling with the descendant of a famed family of well respected knights who was likely living in a major trading town (thus likely rather well off) and yet somehow, he's the one who get's labeled the stuck up city kid, and Twilight is believed to be the home grown honest backwoods farmer fella. I actually posted a few things about that while writing this thing, and I may or may not visit that idea more fully in a fic one day, but yeah, that's what's going on for our vet and captain right here.

Thanks for choosing this one! I actually had a lot I wanted to share about it and hadn't been able to before! And the fact that this is a recent one I can actually remember working on definitely helps LOL

[the-muse-of-not-writing]

KOSA is becoming a bigger and bigger threat

if trump get elected, there's an almost 100% chance that KOSA will be passed in 2025.

KOSA is a mass censorship bill that will allow the government to not show certain things online, saying its to 'protect kids'.

the things they want to "protect" kids from include LGBT, reproductive healthcare resources, and resources for marginalized groups. but really they'll just censor whatever they want. including information about whats currently happening in the middle east.

(i do NOT have any solid proof for what I'm about to say, so please, unless you can find hard information about it, don't take it as fact: i think that twitter only letting people see ~500 tweets per day is in a similar vain to KOSA. i heard someone say that the reason this change was made was to leave people uninformed for when the time comes to vote. I've also noticed social media sites getting...stricter? over just the past year and a half or so)

parents will also be given access to their childs search history, which could put the child in danger if they don't live in an accepting household. these children wont be left with any safe online places to go.

not only that, if this bill passes, your data will no longer be encrypted!!

even though this bill is targeting kids, this will effect adults too. if you want to use a social media sight, not posting on it just to use it, you will have to dox yourself by uploading your ID online. for everyone to see.

what can you do to help?

call and email your senators. the combination of both will yield the best results. email your senator multiple times. its very common for them to not pay attention to things like this unless they're being bombarded.

signing petitions, telling friends and family, spreading the word. i will have some linked here on the post, as well as some sources that will go more in depth than i did.

if i got anything wrong or have spread false information, please let me know.

i wish i could have found it again but i couldn't: it was this website where you would type out your own personal experiences on how the internet was important to you, what it helped you with, and your reasons on why KOSA is harmful. i remember it being a google form that i had found.

[pearlzier]

i’m thinking about making bots fr ( i have two rn but they’re old and i didn’t know what i was doing )

any tips? <3

OMG YAYA CLAPS MY HANDS EXCITEDLY UHH

[{character("")

age("")

gender("")

birthday("")

nationality("")

sexuality("")

species("")

body("")

appearance("")

likes("")

dislikes("")

personality("")

profession("")

background("")}]

i use this template here for all of my bots <3

when it comes to filling it in with information, i usually use wiki fandom to help me, but also my own hcs and stuff for the likes and dislikes usually. for personality, i usually just use adjectives + if its on wiki fandom i see what i find applicable and i use that to help me as well 💓

UHHH i usually stay away from describing what user does or putting user's dialogue since the bots usually have a tendency to start describing what user is doing for you and that's just 💔 not it LMFAO so yeah i mostly keep it just the bot's pov ALSO MAKE THEM ON THE WEBSITE for the uhm 2048 limit instead of 500

for the character description, the 500 word one, you don't have to fill it in since the bot'll still work fine without it but when i do, i put a more casual blurb and summary kinda thing about the character and how they're reacting to the scenario or feel about user !! idk whether any of this is helpful but we move

[steddiesongfics]

Steddie Song Fics 2025 Schedule

Welcome to a new year of song fic challenges! We will still be doing monthly challenges, but instead of releasing them on the first day of every month, I wanted to give you the entire schedule up front in case you want to plan ahead. Some additional fun challenges may pop-up throughout the year, so keep an eye out!

JANUARY - This month will focus on any song that has new in the title or the song itself. Maybe it's about new love, maybe a new start in life, or maybe about feeling brand new. There is no word count limit for this month.

FEBRUARY - This month is all about love. Whether they are in love already, falling in love or out of it, or aren't sure if they know how to feel it at all, pick any song that talks about love. There is no word count limit for this month.

MARCH - This month is a free space. You can use any song you want! The catch is that the word count must be between 500-2000 words.

APRIL - This month's challenge is to pick a song by your favorite boyband or girlband. Think old school (Beach Boys or The Beatles) or newer school (One Direction or Little Mix). There is no word count limit for this month.

MAY - This month is an open space, BUT there are two rules: The fic must be an AU of some kind AND the word count must be between 500-5000 words.

JUNE - This month is all about summer: songs that remind you of the beach, vacation, being out of school, etc. The word count must be between 300-2500 words.

JULY - This month will focus on songs written AND sung by women. There will be no word count limit.

AUGUST - This month will be songs from the 80s in any genre. There will be no word count limit.

SEPTEMBER - This month will be songs from 90s in any genre. There will be no word count limit.

OCTOBER - This month will focus on haunting songs. You can take that literally (Halloween hits like Monster Mash) or go with something more subtle (songs with 'ghost' in them). The word count should be between 500-2500.

NOVEMBER - This month will be songs from 2010-present. There will be no word count limit.

DECEMBER - This month is for holiday songs, classic or new. The word count should be between 500-5000.

Check the pinned post for all other rules and to check this post any time!

[writingjourney]

I DONT REMEMBER IF I SUBMITTED THIS ALREADY BUT LIKE-

Copia cuddles!!! I need them!!! I need to smoosh my face into his silly chest I need to wrap my arms around him and nap!!!!

I'm sorry I took so long to reply. You're so right anon, I know for sure that this would fix me. I need to shove my face into his tiddies and sleep for a whole day 😭

// anyway, here's a short blurb, content: just under 500 words, gn!reader, napping in his office after he (literally) caught you falling asleep at his desk ♡

He tries to keep his hand as steady as possible. Your head weighs heavy on his wrist but this is still better than if it met the hard walnut tabletop in front of you. Copia barely caught it, your drooping face, and he’d reached out before he could think too much about it. Now he sits at the most awkward angle, bent into your direction with his gloved hand floating in midair between your cheek and his desk. 

You’re drooling into his palm, neck bent in a way that promises a painful cramp any minute now. A decision has to be made if he wants to use his hand again. He could finish his reading with you napping on him – his desk chair is spacious enough – but he has to get you into a safe position in his lap first. 

When he starts pulling his hand in the direction of his chest, you snore into the quiet of his office and he startles so violently that he almost drops your head. It’s quite impressive how deeply you have fallen asleep within such a short time frame but then again he knows you’ve been working harder than is healthy, short nights and long days sacrificed to the very translation he is reading for approval right now. And you did such a good job with it.

Copia hooks his other arm around your waist, securing you with his hand safely spread over your belly. Then he pulls, trying to drag you over, and for a moment he thinks his spine might snap. This is not the angle he should lift you in but his choices are limited. With a deep inhale he heaves you into his lap, exerting all the strength he can conjure into his lanky arms. He huffs out the deep breath he took once you settle, falling slack against his upper body. If this won’t convince you to finally get some rest and take a break then it will be a Papal order next.

A sigh tickles his neck then and for a moment he thinks you wake. But instead you burrow deep into his chest, nuzzling for a moment before you release another snore. The angle is still awkward and he pulls you upwards until your cheek rests safely atop his shoulder. Your legs are swung over his and he repositions you until you’re secure within the confines of his desk chair, feet dangling over the armrest. 

Only when Copia feels your even exhales tickling his neck does he pick up the translation again. But as he tries to regain his focus, his gaze is weary and he can’t quite read the words. Your sleepiness seems catching and with your soft body atop his like the world’s most precious weighted blanket, he finds it easy to give into temptation. Perhaps he can rest his eyes for a moment as well, just a few minutes.

BTW if you like this sort of fluffy thing, you should check out @ramblingoak ‘s little nap series here and here for similar nappy vibes :) ♡

[etherfabric]

How to Foster Peace + Lyrics

Choose a pile by which picture you resonate with the most.

If your mind is too busy to clearly decide, take a few deep breaths, and use the finger of your non-dominant hand to hover over the images. One will give off the most subtle yet prominent signals, like tingles, a magnetic pull, or temperature. This is your pile. Multiples are also possible.

You are the ultimate authority over your life. I merely provide my perspective. Sometimes the Universe lines you up with something that doesn't resonate with your truth, so you have contrast to find out what does. Never give away your power.

Pile 1

3 of Wands, 10 of Wands

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

You have to broaden your perspective on what help can look like. You are clinging to superficial indicators that not everyone can authentically hold, and remain overwhelmed by your burdens because of it. You might have a favorite outcome and are so hyperfocused on it that you don't even consider a lot of second best opportunities. Those could relieve you bit by bit instead of one big miracle. Stop seeing certain things as "beneath you", swallow your pride and admit to your very normal human need of support in general. Let the helpers have a little more say in what that might look like and don't argue against every minute detail. They probably offer what they can give best, and you don't know the effect this can have on you until you fully let it in and be the receiver for once.

Lyrics: "Rockland County" by Regina Spektor

Condescending down the stairs I'm condescending down the stairs I look out for a moment Condescending down the stairs I'm condescending down the stairs I look down at the bottles

I just know I got something coming If I got anything coming at all I just know I got something coming If I got anything coming at all

Pile 2

9 of Wands, 5 of Pentacles

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You need to find an outlet for your frustrations to foster more peace in your life. To you, that seems like a contradiction; give in to the aggressive voice inside my head for peace? Well, it depends on how you go about it. To not hurt anyone in this cathartic process, choose a time of privacy and maybe an object to express yourself with. Punch a pile of laundry, rip old newspaper to shreds, cry into a pillow, write the word "fuck" 500 times in your journal, let yourself have violent daydreams, scream at God herself - the possibilities are endless. But you have to face this side of you. The steam is buildung up pressure in the container that is you, and believe me, you want to let it out on your own terms. Otherwise you risk something outside of your influence pushing you over the edge in an inappropriate setting. This could harm you and others way more than it has to. Surpression is a short term coping mechanism, and you have reached the limit.

Lyrics: "A Cannon" by Regina Spektor

I write you a letter, I hope you feel better I hope you forgive the transgressions I've given you love and I've given you anger as well And I meant them both

Somebody's got to tell all the people to be like the water Somebody's got to tell all the people to be like the water

I would if I could, but I can't, so I don't My heart breaks too easy, my words get all jumbled And when I wear lipstick Then no one understands me at all...

Pile 3

5 of Pentacles, Ace of Pentacles

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

You have some serious intergration to do. I feel you going "Another thing?? I am already doing so much! I can't do any more!" No, but that's the thing. You are doing so much to get away from the "bad" feelings that need integration. The pain, the sadness, the grief, the despair, the hopelessness. The goal isn't to build a life without any of these things. The goal is to grasp opportunities for authentic self expression whenever they arise, observe what blockages still hold you back, and explore how they came about. The goal is to become whole again; to incorporate those aspects of yourself you weren't safe to express before.

Every human has the capacity for darkness and a need to be authentic in that regard. The question is whether we accept and embrace it in our conscious approaches, or wear ourselves down fighting ourselves. As soon as you let yourself fall apart and let nature take its course, you will see you didn't need to hold it together that tightly anyway. It will feel like being stuck forever in this pit, but just for a couple of moments. Sooner or later, everything fades. What goes down, must come up again.

The next time you feel the darkness creeping up, walk intentionally towards it instead of running in the other direction. You will survive, I promise. This darkness holds a truth about your past that wants to be heard and felt like it deserves.

Lyrics: "Just Like The Movies" by Regina Spektor

You are mistaken cause I do not bite Over the Williamsburg bridge on a bike And if he loves me then why does he leave? And if he loves me then why does he lea— Lea-ee-ee-ooh-dee-no Aah-de-da-de-da-aaaah Don't say goodbye like you're burying him Cause the world is round and he might return Don't say goodbye like you're burying him Cause the world is round and he might re—

Pile 4

The Moon, 9 of Swords

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

I see a crisis of faith in one or all aspects of your life. Doubts are creeping up, and they feel awfully truthful. The places where you used to turn to for confirmation are suddenly empty and lifeless, and you feel abandoned by a higher power.

If God doesn't send you signs, selfmade is fine. Become your own God for a moment. How can you give yourself a little faith back again? Maybe it's affirmations written on your mirror, or a ritual you designed yourself whenever you need that extra reassurance. Maybe it's that one friend who sometimes can be annoying with their constant positivity; now might be a time where you can benefit from their perspective.

Whatever it is, practice believing something intentionally. It will feel a little icky at first, like a conscious self-gaslight. Just remind yourself that this isn't a lie, you are reintroducing the truth to a part of yourself that has no emotional access to all the small and big miracles you already experienced. Let them see it with their own eyes. Start from the beginning. Make an event out of it. Like a second spring in your spirituality. This part probably saw you thriving in your faith, and now feels comfortable revealing itself to hopefully join the party.

Lyrics: "December" by Regina Spektor

We are not evacuating this house, We don't believe in you and your wrecking crew. We are not evacuating this house, We don't believe in you and your wrecking crew. We don't believe in you and your wrecking crew We don't believe in you We don't believe in you, We don't believe in you We don't believe in you, We don't believe in you... We don't believe in you

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

Hopefully this was of some use to you. I love getting feedback on my readings, so don't hesitate to leave a comment if you feel called to do that.

[guangshi-091305]

Alright, another idea for you! For the danmei club prompt ask thing:

NingXian, Burial Mounds settlement days, Wen Ning lovingly bullying WWX to take care of himself. Sad eyes/ puppy eyes are fair use, regardless of what wwx says.

Gimme bittersweet. Maybe alpha!Ning? Do sentient corpses still have scents?

Yes they do, cuz I say so. But I am limiting Wen Ning's alpha-ness to just scents, being able to mate/bond and using the bond to feel what his mate feels. No sex for poor dead guy oop. Zilia, this isnt just for Jaq, this is for you too because you're the first person in my orbit who started chanting "NingXian. NingXian. NingXian".

Instead of 500 words, have 4.1k (what a horrible number) words instead!

“Are you alright?” He couldn’t hide the concern in his tone. Wei Wuxian had just come out after his self-imposed heat confinement and he looked terrible. He was gorgeous as always of course, but the Burial Mounds were hard on the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation too. Although the way he looked now was way worse than he usually did which seemed impossible yet here they were.

“I am fine, all good, see?” He assured or tried to. The hoarseness of his voice gave away how long he had been screaming for an alpha who would never come. Wen Ning was seeing alright.

“Sit here, I’ll bring some broth. Heats are already hard on omegas and they get worse if you intentionally starve yourself.” He pushed him to sit on a fallen log and Wei Wuxian startled, a guilty expression contorting his face. Wen Ning had a good idea of the self-sacrificial bullshit going on in the omega’s head that made him so reckless with himself.

When he handed the bowl to him, Wei Wuxian immediately began employing his puppy eyes. Now, Wen Ning wasn’t a strong man, wasn’t one even in life and as an alpha, he really couldn’t remain unaffected by an omega he cared for but this was ridiculous. “Eat,” he said and the omega pouted harder.

“This is too much A-Ning! We could give half of it to A-Yuan, or Popo or-“

“Eat,” he simply said but then decided he much rather keep vigil unless Wei Wuxian tried sneaking away to give his food over. “Want me to feed you?” He asked and Wei Wuxian grinned and nodded.

The smile left his face when Wen Ning took the bowl from him and his cheeks darkened to a rare rosy hue that would have Wen Ning swooning if he wasn’t busy trying to coddle him. He’ll revisit that sight and fixate on it later. Right now, he was going to enjoy Wei Wuxian sputtering about not being an invalid. The omega wasn’t the only one who could turn the tables and fluster others. 

“This is ridiculous, I could’ve shared this much food with someone. It's being wasted on-”

“Xian-ge!” He turned and widened his eyes, pouting slightly and Wei Wuxian gulped and clamped his mouth shut. Wen Ning wasn’t above playing dirty and he knew exactly how susceptible Wei Wuxian was to his own puppy eyes. Hell even Jiejie wasn’t above falling for them so who was Wei Wuxian in the grand scheme of disguised manipulation?

“You don’t fight fair,” he whined and focused his attention back on the bowl, as if glaring would make it vanish into thin air A beat of silence passed as Wei Wuxian scowled and then downed the entire bowl in one go, sputtering about radishes and the lack of spice.

There's more ofc, but please go read it on AO3 :D

Please give a round of applause and listen to the song that inspired the vibes and how I went about this fic! aka REFRAIN by Miyano Mamoru!

[ouiouimochi]

Your Hands

pairing/s: keiji akaashi x reader

wc: 500

warning/s: wow i actually had someone beta read for once, wonky phone format, character may be ooc (how do u write him)

note/s: happy birthday akaashi! you pretty pretty man this was hella rushed again sigh

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙

On the 5th day of simpmas, my true love gave to me

“What's this, (Y/n)?”

In your hands rested a small gift, carefully prepared for Keiji, who looked genuinely surprised — well, as much as he’d allow himself to show, at least.

You two had been walking home together when, without warning, you pulled him aside to give him his present. The scarf you wore reached the lower half of your face, but it couldn’t conceal the soft, contented curve of your lips.

“Happy birthday, Kaacchi!” you chirped.

Keiji didn’t mind the nickname at all. If anything, it reminded him of the time you’d tried calling him by his formal surname, only to stumble over it and mispronounce it. Too proud to admit your mistake, you stuck with “Kaacchi” instead, and eventually, it became the way you always called him.

As he took the gift from you, he couldn’t help but notice how cold your fingers felt in the brief contact. He watched as you pulled your hand back into the warmth of your coat sleeves, attempting to warm them.

“You didn’t bring your gloves?” he asked, worry edging his voice.

You laughed sheepishly, explaining how you’d been in a rush this morning and almost forgot his gift altogether.

“Thank heavens I didn’t!”

Keiji sighed, shaking his head. He quickly tucked the gift into his bag, then reached for both of your hands, carefully folding them into his much larger ones. Your hands seemed tiny in his, but the warmth he gave them filled you with a comforting heat — the same warmth that was now creeping up your ears. Let's just blame it on the chilly air.

Then, unexpectedly, he exhaled into the space between your hands, his warm breath bringing relief to your frozen fingertips.

You stared at him, wide-eyed, while Keiji remained focused on warming your hands. You were practically gaping.

“All better?” His blue eyes flickered to yours. Afraid that words would fail you, you could only nod.

He nodded back and gently took your wrist, starting to walk again.

“I should get you home soon so you don’t freeze.” His calm voice couldn’t quite hide the concern beneath it.

Just when you thought the surprises had reached their limit, he intertwined his fingers with yours, then tucked both of your hands into the warmth of his coat pocket.

You walked side by side, the quiet of the evening wrapping around you. The cold air no longer seemed to bite, softened by the warmth you two shared. Keiji’s presence beside you was all you needed, and like the usual with him, words weren’t necessary.

The soft crunch of footsteps on the path and the close proximity was enough, both content in the peaceful silence as you two trudged your way home together.

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙note/s: take a shot every time I mentioned hands, cold, and warmth— I kinda realized I didn't specify or even hint how old you two were… I imagined this scenario during highschool or college so it's all up to you!

taglist: @justwinginglife , @minasfwoopyponytail , @ryescapades , + anyone else who wants to be added!