#and this will probably be updated as well

[satoruxx]

THE SPACE BETWEEN COMFORT AND CHAOS.

✧ PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x f!reader | 6.8k words

✧ SUMMARY: wolfhybrid!toji, hybrid au, grumpy x sunshine, animalistic behavior, pining, jealous toji, more blood as a metaphor for love, we getting a little suggestive with this one, nothing too smutty but toji does have a few questionable thoughts, he's lowkey tweaking out

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: i'll be so honest i had the first half of this chapter written since like september but i got stuck with the second half. unfortunately i hit a wall with this series but now i'm back on track!! updates will probably still be slower just bc this semester is looking rough and i'm graduating but !! i have a lot planned for wolf toji dw :33 as always i'd recommend reading the previous parts before this one !!

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you have a date tonight.

even though you've said it's just a casual get together, toji knows it's a date. he can smell the giddiness rolling off of you as you bounce around your apartment trying to get ready, his eyes following your every move.

"so how long will you be out for this date?" he questions, trying to keep his voice even and casual as he leans against the doorframe of your bedroom. you're standing in front of your mirror, fixing your hair with a critical eye, and embarrassingly enough, toji can't look away.

"it's not a date," you stress with a quiet laugh, eyes sparkling with amusement. "and i should be back around eleven hopefully."

well at least you plan to come home.

(to him.)

toji lets his head rest against the wall, pursing his lips to bite back the snarkiness he wants to express. "well what am i supposed to do while you're gone?"

"i don't know, whatever you want." you grin at him through the mirror, teasing. "do wolf hybrids howl at the mailman?"

he snorts in return, crossing his bulky arms over his chest with a wry smirk. "'m not a dog."

"sure you aren't." you turn around to face him fully, gesturing to yourself with a tilt of your head. "this look okay?"

he bites back a sigh. toji isn't great with words, but he would love to tell you that you're quite literally the most attractive human he's ever met. his jade eyes travel over your figure, ignoring the instinctual rise of jealousy that is swimming in his gut because some other asshole gets to see you like this—all dolled up and pretty like you've dropped from the heavens.

which, to toji, you have. a guardian angel sent just for him.

"looks great," he mutters, nodding once at your ensemble. though he's sure you could make even the ugliest clothing look like perfection. you beam at him, grabbing your coat before bounding over to him.

"thanks toji!" you say his name with an absurd amount of sweetness, reaching up to poke your finger into his cheek. he rolls his eyes, making a show of playfully snapping his canines at your hand. a peal of laughter rips from your throat as you retract, and his ears flick at the sound, pleased. he has the strongest urge to squeeze you into his very being—all consuming.

toji follows you to the door, watching you pick up the house keys and slipping on your shoes as you ramble to him. "there's meat in the fridge and some leftover rice if you want it. oh and i bought those juices you said you liked—"

a fucking angel.

"—so make sure you eat well, okay?" you look at him imploringly, and toji inhales sharply. god he wants to wrap you up tight and keep you with him for the rest of eternity. but instead he's stuck like this, watching you go out to meet some other man while he aimlessly prowls your empty apartment. it's bad enough that the whole space reminds him of you—your scent heavy and sweet around him. but being stuck in your house without you there? that's another struggle all together.

toji didn't even mean for this to happen. god knows he's had enough of trusting humans for a lifetime, because all they can be are cruel and selfish and greedy.

so when you and him came face to face in that alleyway, all he wanted to do was scare you off and keep to himself—the only person he knows he can rely on. but of course, you are as stubborn as you are sweet. maybe that's why toji feels the strange need to always have you in his sight, to always feel you near him.

you're too good for this world, and he would rather gut himself than let anyone touch you.

so that incessant thumping against his ribcage and the swooping in his stomach that only happens when you look at him? that's just protective instinct—a way to repay you for taking pity on an animal like him.

it has nothing to do with feelings. he definitely does not crack a wry smile when you both share a meal. he definitely does not feel a surge of affection when he realizes that you've gone out of your way for him again. he definitely does not allow his tail to wag back and forth when you're excited or happy around him. he definitely does not mask his satisfaction behind a grumpy scowl when you reach up and scratch behind his pointed ears.

definitely not.

besides, toji needs to pull himself together. because if he cares about you even a little bit, he'll keep his distance. he doesn't want to be known as the animal who came and ruined your life.

he's sure you've told all of your friends and coworkers about him—the wolf hybrid you've allowed into your home. he supposes he should be grateful that you haven't been treating him the way most humans do—like a pet. no you've given him more freedom than he knows what to do with, and he's sure that your brain isn't even wired to see him in any other way than as an equal.

like he said, you're too fucking sweet for this world.

but toji knows that everyone around you probably sees him the way hybrids are supposed to be seen, and that's why nobody sees him as a threat. but toji can't deny the insane desire to be viewed as a threat. as a competitor—one that would gladly run in the race for your affection.

(but that's delusional. he knows that people would talk, would frown as you pass by. because you've crossed a line that society deems as dirty—wrong. he isn't worried about what people would say about him. no he doesn't give a shit about that. but the idea of anyone badmouthing you makes his stomach churn and anger spike.

so no. he could never do that to you. he cannot ruin you like that. to turn himself into the scum that took advantage of a poor little human.)

"yeah yeah," he waves you off, clearing his throat. he doesn't like that his brain goes to these thoughts so often these days. "get out of here now."

you stick your tongue out again, reaching for the door. "it's my house thank you very much!"

the wind is biting as it hits toji's skin, and it serves as a cruel wake up call to his reality. that there is no circumstances where you'd be going out to meet him in a situation like this. where he is the one on the receiving end of your sweet love and adoration. he approaches to lock the door behind you, lips slanted. just as you're stepping out, you reach a hand up. he stiffens as your fingers gently scratch behind his pointed ears, so very gently. a pleasant chill climbs up his spine, tickles his very nerve endings.

(he thinks he could die peacefully just laying his head in your lap and letting your fingers gently scratch at his ears.)

toji doesn't remember when you started feeling so comfortable touching him. he can't remember the moment he started feeling comfortable touching you. but if he racks his brain far back enough he can remember that strange sense of longing he started feeling when looking at you. can remember the instances where he'd push your face away when you got too close, heat crawling up his neck.

he holds back a shiver, steeling his expression into his normal unamused stare. yet he feels like his affection for you might be obvious if you looked too deeply into his eyes. you retract your hand with a grin, unperturbed by his moodiness. "i'll be back soon."

"you better…" he mumbles quietly. before he can stop himself, he's reaching up and placing his palm on your head, just like he did all those weeks ago. sure enough he can see the slivers of embarrassment creep into your expression, the subtle dip of your lashes and quirk of your lips. he had quickly realized how truly addicting this expression was to him—almost drug-like. he had chased after it shamelessly since then.

you give him a look, a semi pursed smile, and then leave him. he watches you until you disappear down the street, and he feels his mood sour further. he doesn't like how much influence your presence has on him. when he shuts the door behind him and is only met with the silence of your empty apartment, he starts to feel restless.

toji is no idiot. he knows that he is gradually beginning to care for you. he knows that he has already melted far more than he should've. but you're sneaky, managing to worm your way into the coldest corners and crevices and light a fire there.

but he hates that. he hates that he has even allowed his brain the luxury to think of you in that way. a rational mind has always been something he has been able to brag about, but somehow he finds that it fails him when you're around.

it takes about twenty minutes in your empty apartment for toji to feel like he's going stir crazy. he's not unaccustomed to you being away—but the idea that you're out with someone else just makes him feel irritated. he sighs, grabbing a jacket and slipping on his shoes. he picks up his set of keys from the bowl by the door before heading out into the cold. he doesn't really know where he's going, but he knows that he can't sit in your apartment for the next couple hours.

(not in this space that constantly reminds him of you. the space that is heavy with the scent that clings to your body and invades his senses late at night. drives him up the wall with restless need and longing in his muscles that he has not felt in a long time.)

the streets are brightly lit, and toji pulls his hood over his head before shoving his hands into his pockets. keeps his eyes on the ground because there is still that sting of paranoia that his past will come back to haunt him. honestly he would've been fine living with only himself to rely on. but the universe must have truly been praying on his downfall, because here he is—the oh so terrifying and feared wolf of the underground, being worried about something as silly as a damn crush.

he'd figured that this brief wave of attraction he felt towards you would disappear easily. in fact, all he planned on doing was taking advantage of your blatant kindness and open mindset towards hybrids. eat your food and gain some strength before moving on to the next city and becoming nothing more than a stranger who once dipped into your life. but no, you and your stupid smile had practically invited him in, open arms and generous comfort that made him feel sick to his stomach for even considering taking advantage of you.

that's the most frustrating part—your dumb sweetness makes it impossible for him to hurt you.

even now, when he feels this unreasonable sense of betrayal at the thought of you being out with some other man, he doesn't have it in him to be angry at you. of course toji isn't stupid. he isn't delusional enough to believe that he has any right to be angry about such a thing. you're perfection embodied in human form—he'd be an idiot to think that nobody else in the world would look at you the way he does. and he knows that they'd probably be better suited for you.

(what, as a washed up bitter old wolf hybrid, does he have to offer you?)

so yes, he's trying to convince himself that this is good enough. being able to share your space and take up a corner in your life. to hear your thoughts and hear his name fall from your lips.

his feet carry him forward without having a destination in mind. he briefly thinks that maybe he'll go to that one little restaurant where you often get takeout and bring some back for you. he's sure you'll eat on the date, but he's thinking about doing it anyway. a gruff smirk worms its way onto his face when he thinks about how you'll chide him for being buying food even though there were leftovers at home. you're so easy for him to read and that makes him ridiculously happy.

"toji?"

he freezes, brow twitching. bile instinctually rises in his throat, and he feels his hackles rising. his ears stiffen, claws lengthen, and he feels as though the hair on his body has stood on edge. it takes every bit of willpower to not bolt down the street, right back to your apartment. instead he can only stiffly turn around, teeth gritted as he comes face to face with his grandfather.

the old man's eyes are narrowed, but otherwise he shows no emotion. "so this is where you've been."

toji purses his lips, mind spinning with a thousand different ways to get out of this situation. he's screwed, royally. "i've been all over."

"it's been months. don't you think your little vacation is up now?"

"fuck off," toji snarls. his anger spikes so fast even he finds it a little unreasonable.

naobito lets out a boisterous laugh—grating and sharp. "how can i turn a blind eye when my damn investment is running around in the streets?"

"well you shoulda kept a better eye on me, huh old man?" toji snarls. he feels more threatened than ever before. his body is overwhelmed with a thousand different emotions. the horror of being caught and maybe being thrown back underground. the disgust at seeing the man he hates most in the world.

the pure unadulterated fear that consumes him when he thinks that he might never see you again.

he won't do it. he'll die before being dragged away once more.

"oh you're so entertaining toji." naobito pulls out his phone, the light from the screen illuminating his face in a way that makes him look strangely terrifying. "enough games. you've had your fun."

toji's lunging before he even realizes it, the growl that tears through his throat sounding almost feral. his right hand snakes around naobito's throat, and it takes all his willpower to not crush the man's windpipe between his fingers. his other hand is ready to strike, claws sharp and glinting in the moonlight. the old man's eyes go wide for a second, but then they narrow, and despite the difficulty, his lips stretch into an oily smile.

"you won't do it…" he chokes out, strained and painful. toji's palm tightens further, eliciting a wheeze from the old man. "you know what they'll do to you."

toji honestly doesn't care. in his mind, being put down wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if it means killing this bastard once and for all. but then he has a thought, and it all comes crashing down.

you.

he thinks of you and your sweet smile and welcoming arms and everything suddenly stops. because by chance if this fucker finds out about you, everything is over. toji's mind races. thoughts of his grandfather's men coming after him and finding you instead, punishing you for taking in the animal that so clearly didn't belong to you. ice floods his veins—chilling and jarring.

his grip loosens, and then he's backing away slowly. the goosebumps on his arms are almost painful, and he can feel his pulse thudding against his jugular as naobito stands and straightens his clothes. the old man clears his throat. "you can run all you want. you know they'll find you."

"i'll take that risk." toji wants to go. never in his life has he felt so inclined to run. he takes another step back, and naobito raises his phone again.

"do it," toji grits out, flashing his lengthened claws. the old man's eyes catch the movement, and even though his expression remains neutral, toji can smell the hesitation spiking as he stills. "i dare you."

"you even touch me and they'll lock you up for good," naobito spits. "maybe even put you down."

"well that's fine with me as long as i've ripped you to shreds." toji licks his teeth, eyes narrowed. "shame that brat naoya isn't here with you. i would've broken his neck too."

naobito lets out a mirthless laugh, but he doesn't make any more advancements. toji takes another step back, snarling. his grandfather crosses his arms, tilting his head with an amused smile. "you do all this drama, but you know you'll go back there on your own."

toji barks out a laugh, though it is strained with anger. "oh yeah? how come?"

naobito's smile becomes chilling as his voice drops. "because it's in you, toji. you're nothing but a rabid animal, and you'll crave blood soon enough."

toji's skin prickles. nausea churns his guts, and all he can manage to spit out is a growled "fuck you," before he's turning around and running. thankfully, the darkness of the night acts like a blanket—covers up his footsteps until he's sure he's far enough. for once he thanks the heavens for his animalistic traits; the speed with which his feet carry him is almost superhuman. he wonders if his damn grandfather is calling all the people he knows, sending them after him. but another part wonders if naobito is so psychotic that he would wait for toji to come crawling back.

both options are ridiculously plausible.

toji stops and thinks that maybe he shouldn't go back to your house. he could be leading his past right to your doorstep. but then he realizes there is no other place in the world where he is more safe, and then he's speeding up again. when he reaches your apartment, he hides in the shadows for ten minutes waiting to see if he's being followed. when he deems it safe, he quietly unlocks your door and slips inside.

the apartment is just as he left it, and toji finally releases a shaky breath. his heartbeat feels erratic, and he didn't even realize that he'd been biting his lip so hard, only now tasting the metallic flavor of his own blood.

(he ignores how easily his tense muscles seem to relax when your scent invades his senses once more.)

toji flops onto the couch unceremoniously, rubbing at his brow bones. what are the odds that he'd run into his damn grandfather in the streets and still be a free man? toji always figured that if he ever saw the old bastard again, he'd find himself either dead or back underground. after all, naobito zenin has always cared so deeply about his number one investment.

now the only thing on toji's mind is the fact that he might be putting you in danger. you and the sweet life you've so carefully built. the life that you shared with him so willingly—open arms and all. what right did he have to bring threats to that comfort and stability? you've been so good to him, and what has he done to repay that except constantly put you in tough situations?

he thinks that maybe meeting him in that alley was the worst thing that could've happened to you.

there is a dull throbbing that has settled between his brows, and toji puts his face in his palms, exhaling heavily. he wishes that you were here. wishes that you would open the front door and chatter away to your heart's content. wishes that you'd easily forget that fool who's taking you out tonight and look toji's way instead. wishes that you'd sit next to him on the couch and let the warmth of your arm bleed into his skin.

(he doesn't mind hearing you talk. your voice has a lovely timbre to it, not too harsh and not too grating. he thinks that the waves of your laugh would soothe the pain in his head very quickly.

he doesn't like that there's someone else. he knows it has nothing to do with you—after all you deserve someone who treats you well. someone who can lay the world at your feet even before you ask. and he understands that he is not that person and will never be that person so long as ears sprout atop his head and his teeth are elongated and sharp.

he is irked by the craving for warmth he has developed. he wonders why he doesn't miss his solitude. instead the empty space feels awfully full when you're around—not suffocating, just full. he thinks he wouldn't mind sharing that space with you for a long time.)

toji's fingers twitch in irritation, and he flops back, draping across your couch. his eyes conjure up floating patterns against your ceiling, and he cannot blink them away no matter how hard he tries. it is a struggle to dispel these thoughts—the oh so valiant fighter losing a battle as simple as this. it's almost laughable.

there is a sour taste in toji's mouth because he knows what this is. that damn feeling that everyone raves about. the one people are willing to do anything for. a blessing, a curse. able to make life worth living and yet wars were fought over it.

something he never deserved.

if he had common sense, he'd leave well enough alone. it's bad enough that he feels indebted to you, but bringing any other feelings into whatever arrangement you both seemed to have feels almost self-destructive. especially because he'd be the last person on earth to have a chance anyway.

he does not know why that conclusion feels so damn prickly.

toji sits up straight, eyes burning holes into the armrest of your couch. then he reaches over, grabs the tv remote, and turns the tv on to some random show. then hits the volume button more times than he probably should. he can't help it—the silence in your apartment is deafening.

another less than graceful flop back into the heat of your couch. heavy eyes bore into the ceiling once more. if he strains hard enough, toji can imagine your reactions to the dialogues coming from the tv. his lips pull up to the side, wry and somewhat wistful.

he's pushing his luck. you should really send someone to get rid of him. he's gotten too full of himself, thinking that he knows you so well.

toji thinks that if he focuses hard enough, he can find remnants of you in the couch's fibers. sweet shampoo, detergent, faint traces of curry, and the hints of your natural scent that pushes through all the artificial ones.

toji's eyes go unfocused the more attention he pays to that scent. invading his senses and pulling fatigue away from the sinews of his muscles like it's easy. behind his eyelids, his mind is able to conjure up an image of you—and he's honestly surprised at how detailed it is.

you've managed to fully consume him now.

(all that talk of sinking his claws into you when he hadn't even realized you'd gotten to him first.

soft, untouched fingers gently curling around beating muscle and tissue. sweet caresses of blood-filled chambers, honey slipping through the valves. addictive, drug-like. a shot of adrenaline.

one squeeze of your fingers and he'd bleed all over the place.)

toji inhales sharply. before he's even fully awake, scents are invading his nose. the bus, sweet shampoo, olive oil, pungent cologne.

he finds you. his shoulders relax. the door clicks open, your unique footsteps quietly pressing against the hardwood. toji suddenly feels all too weary, throwing a heavy arm across his face because he's still trying to remember what he was dreaming about—grasping at straws.

"you asleep?" your voice is quiet, probably out of consideration in case he really was sleeping. his ears flick at the sounds of your coat being pulled off.

"no," he responds—groggy. he doesn't make an effort to move, staring at the same ceiling he fell asleep looking at. your smile is etched behind his eyelids.

"good," you chirp. he hears the drop of your keys into the bowl. your footsteps get louder. "i brought food back."

a noncommittal grunt in return, and your laugh is almost breathless. your face makes its way into his line of sight. half smile almost wry, you bend over the back of the couch and study his expression.

the spark in your eye is lively, almost vivacious. it sends adrenaline through toji's veins almost instantaneously. he can't see the ceiling anymore, your face obscuring it perfectly. he watches your hair fall with the weight of gravity, studies it like it's a necessity.

beautiful, he wants to say. but he doesn't know how to articulate that word aloud. so it remains hidden in the backlogs of his brain that never see the light of day.

"did you already eat?" you ask, and he shakes his head no. he doesn't mention his failed attempt at going to bring you takeout. screw his damn grandfather.

he sits up straight, and you walk around the couch and take a seat next to him. "how come? you aren't hungry?"

"not really," he mutters, shutting his eyes. that throbbing between his brows has returned. when he glances at you from the corner of his eye, you're giving him a look that is comically skeptical.

"you're not?" your voice goes dramatically worried, and you lean over and press a palm to his forehead like it's the end of the world. "toji not being hungry? what, are you sick?"

he snorts out a sound that sounds suspiciously like a laugh, reaching up to tug at your wrist with an exasperated roll of his eyes. "don't be ridiculous. you're so dramatic."

you grin, watching him stand up and pop his joints with a groan. toji glances at you for a split second. the hair on the back of his neck stands, a chill running down his spine. he feels like someone is chasing him, getting closer and closer with outreached claws. claws that would crush you almost easily—like paper. he swallows, glancing over his shoulder to peek out your window.

darkness is all he's greeted with.

toji sighs heavily, massaging his temples. he realizes that you're still staring at him, so he forces a vaguely disinterested expression—so carefully neutral. "changed my mind. i'm starving now. where's the food?"

a beat of silence passes, and he turns to look at you expectantly.

balancing on your knees, you peer at him from over the back of the couch, a cautious look in your eye. "you okay?"

he bristles. he hates that you can take him apart like that. that you can see the irritation settling in the crinkle of his brows. that it somehow feels so easy for you to see right through him.

he briefly considers spilling his guts to you then and there, but then that one image flashes behind his eyes once more. the image of bulky soldiers holding heavy guns in your face, and the words die on his tongue. "'m fine."

you raise a brow, eyes raking over his expression. he can tell you don't believe him at all, but he doesn't want to discuss this any further. he's decided that he won't take such risks—not with you anyway.

you look less than pleased as you watch him stand up and walk into the kitchen, effectively cutting the conversation short. but you don't say anything, choosing to just attach yourself to his shadow and follow him. your hesitant expression makes him feel a little guilty, but he brushes it off.

toji is suddenly struck with the realization that you've been with someone else tonight. his mood dips slightly, but he tries not to be too obvious about it. "how was the date?"

he is surprised at the way your expression seems to sour. you cross your arms, huffing as you lean against the counter. "not great," you pause, before glaring at him. "and i told you it wasn't a date!"

"yeah right," he snorts, dropping your leftovers into his plate and throwing it into the microwave. the droning hum echoes in his ears as he turns to you and crosses his arms. "why was it not great?"

"well i don't know," you shrug, lips slanting. you hop up onto the counter, settling in like you're about to drop the next great american novel. "he just…wasn't how he normally is at all?"

the microwave beeps, and toji turns away to pull the plate out. he thinks that he can taste blood on his tongue, but he clears his throat and keeps his voice even. "it was one of your coworkers right?"

"yeah, but like…" you suck on your teeth, searching for words. "he was so self-centered!"

toji is grateful his back is turned to you, because the way he's grinning would seem really strange given the circumstances. the satisfaction that is thrumming through his veins is almost ridiculous.

"i mean at work he was always polite and stuff so i figured he'd be nice to hang out with—" you roll your eyes at your own naivety. "but no. as soon as i sat down he started going on and on about himself and i just sat there. i barely got to say a word about myself at all."

"sounds like he really likes the sound of his own voice." toji finally looks at you, and despite feeling relieved that the date didn't work out, the miserable look on your face makes him feel a tad guilty. the wolf sighs heavily, walking over to you with the plate full of food. "here, eat."

your expression goes blank, giving him a look that basically translates to 'are you serious?'.

"i brought the food back for you!" you protest. toji rolls his eyes harshly.

"if this date was as bad as you're making it sound, i bet you were too icked out to eat."

a laugh escapes your throat, and you shrug in a way that seems to be acquiescent. the wolf approaches you, a half smirk on his face that looks comfortingly familiar, and when he is right in front of you, you watch him stab his fork into the food before raising it to your lips.

it is all too natural—the way he offers and the way you immediately take.

your lips part and close around the fork. toji's eyes zero in on the movement almost instantaneously. he is embarrassed that he didn't think twice about the so obviously domestic action, but he can't backtrack now. so all he can do is watch your mouth as you savor the taste and chew, his own throat feeling oddly parched.

he hadn't realized just how intimate the gesture was.

even now he feels like he's invading your space. you're close enough that he can count your lashes and see the flecks of light in your eyes. he wants to know what you're thinking—if your brain is going haywire the way his is. but all he can do is peer into the windows to your soul and search for any hints.

he is not perceptive enough to find anything. all he knows is that you're looking at him with stars in your eyes and that same honey like sweetness dripping from your smile. his ears flick restlessly, and swallows with a bit of difficulty.

"thanks," you mumble after you've finished chewing, looking at him with deliberation. "you eat the rest."

"you sure?" he asks, not understanding why his own voice is coming out just as quiet. you nod wordlessly, giving him a grateful smile, and his tail unknowingly begins its steady back and forth movement. your tongue peeks out to wet your lips, almost nervously, and toji's eyes greedily trace the path again. there's an almost bashful tinge to your expression, and toji is reminded of the way you reacted the first time he told you he trusted you.

(warmth bleeding from your skin. eyes moving away from his gaze. licking at your lips. flustered.)

something in his soul had practically sung when he saw that expression. just like it's doing now.

toji is suddenly struck with the thought of how easy it would be to kiss you right now. you're so damn close, another step forward and he could capture your lips easily. a sharp inhale, claws twitch around the plate. his brain dives further into those thoughts almost instantly, and he curses himself for it.

(forget sinking his teeth into you. forget digging through bone and flesh to find the beating muscle in your chest. all of that pales in comparison to actually getting a taste. to have you at his mercy the way you've had him for all these months—a deliciously sweet vengeance. he wonders what your lips would taste like, what they would feel like under the drag of his tongue. quiet little gasps pressed against his greedy mouth, soft flesh against the scar cutting over his lips.

if he strains hard enough he can hear the ragged pants filling the space between you two. his mind is frustratingly skilled enough to conjure up images of your naked skin and what it would feel like under his hands.

he swears he'd be so damn careful. just to make sure his claws don't damage you in a way that only an animal can damage a human.

but he knows he can do it. with reverent fingers that are skillful enough to take you apart and make you sing. and oh how you would sing—he'd make sure of it. sweet sighs and moans and a whisper of his name in a way that only you can say. he'd map out every inch of your heated skin until he had each detail memorized, seared into his very being.

that's what loyalty means after all. giving you every single piece of himself and gratefully taking what you offer him in return.)

the wolf has to blink away the haze in his eyes, turning away while clearing his throat. he busies his hands with shoving food down his gullet, but his mind is still racing.

(he is too ashamed to admit that similar thoughts have kept him up before.)

when he tries to take a steadying breath, he picks up the change in the air. the various scents floating around the room mix together, and yet his nose is strong enough to pick yours out. there's a strange difference to it, a spike of adrenaline and something else that makes his mouth water.

(he thinks he knows exactly what that something is. he'd been able to pick these changes out his whole life. all animals could.)

this is ridiculous. he isn't some hormonal pup that lacks self-control. he'd crawled through hell and back and made it out just fine. your stupid sweetness should not be a weakness—not to him anyway. and no amount of vague daydreaming and unrealistic pining would change that.

his pointed ears twitch as he hears you hop off the counter. you stretch out the stiffness in your neck and sigh. "well anyways, i'm ready for this day to be over. i gotta figure out what to do about him."

toji stiffens, tail going rigid as he turns to face you again. his expression is steely. "what do you mean?"

"it's crazy but he asked me on a second date."

you roll your neck again, and his eyes zero in on your skin.

(if only you knew. a bare canvas. so readily available for his teeth to sink into. vulnerable, yielding, devoted. he'd let you sink your teeth into his neck too. only you. no one else.)

"what a fucking fool," toji scoffs, crossing his bulky arms. he leans back, feeling the sharpness of the counter digging into his tailbone. he looks at you expectantly. "you're not going, are you?"

"nah," you shake your head, smiling mirthlessly. your fingers come up to push your hair away from your face, and toji's finger twitch in tandem. "the whole thing was weird. i'm good ending it here."

"mmh good," toji replies casually. your head snaps up, and you look at him with an intensely interested expression.

"good?" you repeat, with a little scrunch of your face that looks awfully curious.

toji blinks at you blankly, mind stuttering for a second.

(he didn't realize how that would sound. how truthfully honest it was.)

instead he just gives you a glance before nodding. he reaches for a glass and starts filling it with water unceremoniously. "yeah, it's good that you're not going."

"okay…" you trail off, confused. he thinks he can hear obscure smile in your voice.

"i mean he sounds stupid from what you were yapping about." the wolf continues indifferently. his fangs scrape against his bottom lip, and the urge to bite down for his own foolishness is extremely strong. "and ugly."

"ugly?" you ask in surprise, and he looks up to meet your gaze. at your confused expression, he shrugs gruffly.

"yeah. ugly." he doubles down. he doesn't know why you're looking at him like that—like he's just acted completely out of character. it's making his palms sweat and he hates it.

you scoff out a laugh, strangely amused and almost disbelieving. "you've never even seen him."

(a flash of burning heat. a roil of the guts—churning and churning. shades of ugly green.)

toji wonders why you're even defending this fool, irritation flickering in his stomach. now he just feels stubborn—unrelenting. "he just sounded ugly."

you gape at him, though you're smiling while you do it. almost like you're saying 'wow, i can't believe you said that'.

he rolls his jade eyes, downs the water in a gulp, and sets the glass down with more force that he intended. "why? you gonna go out with him again?"

"no…no i'm not going," you answer, a finality in your voice. your gaze searches his face for answers, and he keeps his expression neutral with great difficulty. your eyes are wide and a little surprised, and there's an odd look of satisfaction in them. bewilderment, too. like something has just fallen into place—settled.

a beat of silence passes.

the whole moment feels suffocating, but in a painfully good way. for some reason, toji can feel sweat dripping down his shoulder blades and soaking through his shirt. he glances at you again, and when he sees that same expression, something in his chest does an exhilarated flip. he purses his lips, and then clears his throat. "well i'm tired as fuck. i'm going to bed."

"right," you say, and toji doesn't know if he's imagining it, but you sound a little breathless. he gives you a final look, and when you look back at him, it feels more intense than any other contact the two of you have had. your smile gets a little wider, eyes going frustratingly soft, as you tilt your head.

(so that's what it feels like to be on the receiving end of your sweet attention. honey eyes and sugary smiles. saliva drips from his fangs.)

"get some sleep," he says throatily. his fangs feel like they're elongating, claws feel extra sharp. his tail has resumed its side to side motion. and that fire in his gut has come back tenfold, searing and all consuming.

you nod, teeth sinking into the flesh of your lips. "i will."

you look like you want to say something more, but then your eyes go a little more softer, and when you look at him, he realizes he would willingly lay the entire universe at your feet. "goodnight toji."

all he can manage is a soft grunt and a subtle nod of his head, before turning on his heels and heading for his room. he can feel your stare on his back, and it sends pleasant chills up his spine.

your words echo in his ears.

(no…no i'm not going.)

when he's in the sanctuary of his room, he catches sight of the satisfied grin on his face in the mirror. a little smug, a little delighted, a little surprised.

the same grin that was plastered across your face as you stood in that kitchen.

(so fucking pleased.)

taglist: @h4wkz @babyblue0t7 @en-happiness @ourfinalisation @lymsfm @mahoubitch @teddybeartoji @deedeeznoots @polarbvnny @starmapz @nonamebbsblog @echodead @totallygyomeiswife @venussdovess @your-mum3000 @haydensjw @abadbitchblogs @marajafarli @twinky-wink @t4ters @17362939 @shadowlover321 @koko-1025 @daniella666girl @d1cklethep1ckle @an-ever-angry-bi @hibiscy @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @thisisew @crystaldreamland @namjooningera @call-memissbrightside @chugao @szired @keiva1000 @yoongies-bby @giamee @hypnoctiis @nappingmoon @tananaxx @twinklingbeautifulstars @friedchicken-tendou @cupcaketeddybehr @sp1racle @ninani-nanina @entumtum @huuuhwhaat @satorushousewife @moonlitreveri3 @seren-dipitt

if you asked to be on the tag list but don’t see your name here, it’s either because your blog was blank/empty or didn’t have an age. if your name is here but you didn’t get a tag notif, check your privacy settings !!

[21st-century-minutiae]

Semantic versioning is an early twenty-first century convention for labeling software changes. It takes the form of three numbers, Major, Minor, and Patch, separated by periods. These are not decimal points. Major, Minor, and Patch are all monotonically increasing whole numbers. 2.2.2 comes before 2.2.12, because 2 is less than 12.

Because semantic versioning is a convention, there are no hard rules. But there is some general consensus about the use. Generally speaking, a "Major" update, where the Major number increases and the Minor and Patch number are reset to 0, is one where there are breaking changes and major design modifications. If a software library is changing its general paradigm, especially if it is not backwards compatible, that would involve a Major release.

It is possible for two different Major releases to be in simultaneous, parallel development. Generally speaking, after a Major release, the previous Major version will only receive security and bug fixes as opposed to new functionality.

A Minor release, on the other hand, is generally not a "breaking" change, but represents new functionality or very important bug and security fixes. Someone using software that undergoes a Minor release probably doesn't need to change anything in their usage, but would have access to more functionality or better stability. When a minor release occurs, the Patch number usually resets to 0.

Patch releases are generally unplanned, off-cycle, quick fixes, usually limited to bug fixes or security vulnerability patches. Patch releases should not usually provide new functionality or break old functionality.

The humorous "pride" description of semantic versioning is not inconsistent with actual use.

Software engineers in the early twenty-first century will be very familiar with semantic versioning and might have opinions on the subject. Software users are likely familiar with it as well from experience.

[evertidings]

— DECEMBER 2024.

Accomplishments.

I thought I was forgetting something and then I realized it was my monthly update. Oops. So even though we’re a third into the month, here’s what I did in December.

To be quite honest, most (if not all) of what I did throughout the month was work on the Holiday Special. I’m really glad to see that it was well received (honestly, even though I’ve been doing this for a while, putting anything out is stressful so it’s always great to see positive feedback). I’m a bit of a slow writer so it took me a while, but I’m glad it paid off. I always love writing extra content for you guys anyway.

In terms of Chapter 12, I’m back at it this month and slowly chipping away at it. Still no estimated time for when it’ll be released, but I’m hoping Q1 of 2025. Of course, the break last month didn’t help in terms of productivity and word count, but at least it refreshed my mind. I had just finished up writing a big branch (probably close to 15,000 words) so I was pretty exhausted and tired of the content. That happened a lot when I was writing Chapter 11, which eventually led to a big burnout that I am trying to prevent this time around, because, well, it was not fun. But now that I’ve stayed away from Chapter 12 for a bit, I feel excited enough to go back.

I’m currently writing Eliana’s initial meeting with the Hunter and am trying to pinpoint how I want her to come off. Of course, I have a set personality for her, but determining character traits is one thing—actually making sure they are portrayed in writing is another. It’s been a bit challenging so far, but I do usually say that I like a challenge, so I think it’ll be fun.

I’m estimating the final chapter word count to be somewhere around 45-50k—possibly more if I decide to torture myself with another branch—so I’m at least halfway or a third of the way there. None of the chapters have ever surpassed 70k and I doubt this will, so I don’t have to worry there.

For the rest of January, I’m focusing on just getting as much done as possible. My four year anniversary (wtf) is also coming up for this game, so I’m trying to decide what to do for it. I want to write another short, but that would delay Chapter 12 even further so I’m not sure. Perhaps just a set of drabbles? Let me know if anyone has any ideas. As always, take care of yourselves <3

Stats.

Chapter Total: 21,850 words (+1640)

Game Total: ~533,280 words

[limethefirst]

I've been reading all your recent Shadow fics and they're all SO CUTE!!! It makes me so happy to see where Shadow sort of gets to have a second chance with a new Maria, one where he can keep them safe. I was wondering though, how do you think he would react if they dyed red streaks into their hair to look like him?

Red Hair Dye

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader (platonic)

warnings: none

summary: after a trip to the store you see a hair dye that reminds you of your favorite little hedgehog

a/n: hey guys sorry i was gone this week, school started back up so slow updates and i just went through a break up so just taking things slow, here's your request tysm for your patience! (This reminds me of when I had pink highlights 😭)

The store was quiet, it was late so it wasn't very strange. You walked through the aisles, looking at all its contents. It was a small corner store no more then a 3 minute walk from your place. Light jazz music played as beeping of machines echoed through the front of the store.

You stopped in the hair dye section, taking a look at all the colors, thinking which one you liked best, not that you were sure you were even going to dye your hair. Until you spotted it, a crimson red hair dye that looked like it was on sale.

Pausing, you stared at it a bit before ultimately picking it up. You looked at the brand, knowing it was a trust worthy one when it came to hair damage and color, so without a second thought you quickly shoved it into your basket before continuing to browse a bit more.

The trip was short lived and quickly you found yourself rushing to your bathroom, excited to try the new color you'd bought. Shadow was somewhere about but didn't seem to try and find you, seemingly hearing your rush to reach the bathroom, almost paying no mind to it.

Opening the box you grabbed everything inside, basically dumping it out onto your sink as you sorted through it. The instructions were simple, so you just went with the flow, prepping your hair and sectioning it the way you wanted.

After your hair was ready, you started to mix some of the paint, making sure to add the right amount of color so that it would be bright enough on your hair. After a bit of mixing you grabbed the small brush that came in the box, as well as the gloves. You slipped the gloves on slowly and started to apply the red.

It was a tiring process, taking you over 20 minutes to finally finish. By that point your arms were tired from being held up so long. Swiftly you exhaled and sat down against the wall, making sure your hair wasn't messed up.

A small knock interrupted your waiting. You slightly opened the door, not realizing how strong the smell of paint truly was, as the hedgehog took a quick step back, his nose scrunching.

"What are you doing?" He asked, arms crossed, not being able to fully see you as you hid behind the door, wanting to keep the hair a surprise.

You let out a small chuckle before playfully responding, "It's a secret," Shadow just gave a small sigh, knowing you wouldn't tell him till later with that type of answer.

"Don't take long then" Shadow said before turning away, probably going to go sit in your room, although he'd never say it he found comfort around you more then he did most. It was nice to be special.

You closed the door quickly, and sat in the bathroom a bit longer, waiting at least 30 minutes so that the dye would set. Shadow found it a bit annoying at how long you were taking and he was very curious as to what exactly that smell was, it was like chemicals. Maybe you were cleaning, but the more Shadow thought the more he knew it would not be cleaning.

You took a quick shower, the water was cold to make sure not a lot of dye left your hair. Once you were done the bathroom was a red mess that you'd hope would be able to come off later.

Drying yourself and changing you put on some of the lasting products in the box which were supposed to make the dye last longer as you fixed your hair, excited to show Shadow the result.

Walking towards your room you found Shadow on the edge of your bed, his arms still crossed and his posture straight as he kept his gaze steady on the novela in front of him. His eyes quickly changed over to you as he saw you enter, the first thing that caught his attention though was your hair.

It looked like you had red highlights in your hair, he was shocked to see your new look.

"I thought we could match!" You cheerfully said making your way over to him as he saw bits of red.

He let out a small huff of approval, "It looks nice," He now stood up, as you sat on the ground taking in the sight.

"So you like the emo highlights?" You jokingly asked him, knowing how Sonic and his friends had called him the emo hedgehog before.

Shadow just gave you a straight face before walking past you and out your door.

Quickly you sprung to your feet, apologizing as you followed him out, "I was kidding come back!"

[otakubimbo]

Sick Days

Sylus x MC!Reader

Sylus couldn't get in contact with you and he knew that being a hunter was a dangerous job but what you had wasn't an injury to your body per say. It was an injury to your immune system. AKA Sylus taking care of you when you're very very sick

OB: Hi I started writing this while i had covid back in august and I'm working on clearing out all of my old fic drafts so bear with me on any other updates

masterlist

A groan escapes your lips as you forcefully peel your eyes open. Your throat hurts, your head hurts, your body hurts, everything hurts. It took you a bit to register that the banging wasn’t in your head, but it was at your front door. Every cell in your body screaming at you to stay in your bed, but the knocking just wouldn’t stop.

As you sit up out of bed, your head immediately spins from the sudden motion.

“Fuck,” you attempt to steady yourself before fully getting out of bed, but it was hard. You tried to take a deep breath but that just caused you to have a coughing fit. The burn in your throat and chest is almost unbearable. The toll of whatever sickness you had had a harsher effect on your body than you thought. Initially, you assumed you could have just slept off whatever it was but now you were so sure.

Slowly, you struggle your way to the front door, blanket securely wrapped around you since you were freezing. Eventually, you get your door open as you glare at a well-dressed chest, your eyes racking up to see the owner of said chest. It was, of course, Sylus.

“Well, hello there, kitten. Nice to finally see you.” He smirks down at you for just a moment before noticing the state you were in, gently pushing you back to enter your space, closing the door behind him.

“What are you doing here Sylus?” You ask, your voice is scratchy and hoarse.  Sylus brow creases as he gives you a once over.

“Mephesto claims you haven’t left your house in two days, and you haven’t been answering my messages or phone calls.” He says as he raises a hand to your forehead to gauge your temperature. You swat his hand away as you realize what he was saying. Two days? You haven’t left for two days??? You were just at work yesterday when you got sent home, right? Holding your hand out, you request him to hand you his phone which he does with no complaint. Ignoring the picture of the two of you as his lock screen and notice that in fact it had been two entire days since you had been home. You shove his phone back into his hand and shuffle back to your room to look for your phone. There it sat on your nightstand, still on the charger, opening it up to see several messages and missed calls from Sylus of course but some from Luke and Kieran, a few from Jenna and Tara telling you to get well soon, along with a few from Rafayel, Xavier, and Zayne.

“I-“ you stutter as you sit down on your bed, “ I guess I’ve been in and out of sleep this whole time.” You say with a frown, attempting to rub the pain out of your head. As you go through the numerous texts, a coughing fit erupts making Sylus run over to rub your back. He tries to soothe you as your fit dies, rubbing your back gently as you calm down, taking the blanket from around you, pushing you to lay down and tucking you in. You hadn’t even realized that you were truly TUCKED in until Sylus is running a hand over your cheek and you can’t move.

“Let me out Sylus” You struggle from how tightly he tucked you in, but you didn’t have any real strength in you to get out.

“No can do, kitten. You’re sick and I’ll just have to take care of you.” He puts his hand on your forehead to truly check your temperature. You were burning up and it took everything in Sylus to keep a neutral face, he was worried about you. He had originally thought, you had just buried yourself in work again but seeing you in this state does something to his heart that he doesn’t like. You were such a strong woman and now where you were, weak and frail and not from any wanderer just from what was probably the common cold.  

“I’ll be fine, I can take care of myself.” You refute, struggling yet again but not putting up much of a fight. Theres a slight twitch in Sylus expression as he watches you.

“Please” Sylus voice comes out just above a whisper and you stop moving. It caught you off guard and you stopped fighting. “Thank you, so stubborn” he kisses the top of your head as you scoff.

You hadn’t even realized that you were falling asleep until you were being woken up by Sylus gently.

“What’s going on” you look around confused as you attempt to sit up, Sylus grabs your arm helping you as a rag falls off the top of your head.

“You have to eat something Kitten.” Sylus states as he grabs a bowl of some type of soup putting the spoon up to your mouth. You take a sip of it without complaint, it soothes but hurts your throat at the same time causing a groan to come out of your mouth. Sylus inhales a deep breath, gripping the spoon harder. You weren’t getting better, if anything it seemed like you were getting worse. Your skin was getting pale, your temperature wasn’t going down, and all you were doing was sleeping and while you were sleeping you were shaking. You were in cold sweat; he had to change the rag on your head almost every thirty minutes.

“It hurts, Sy” You grimace after you try to swallow another spoon full of soap. Your voice was so weak, you looked so frail, it was literally breaking his heart to see you like this.

Sylus puts down the bowl, “Just lay down sweetie.” He helps you get back under the covers and before he can even get back with another towel for your head, you’re asleep.

Now Sylus was a prideful man for sure, but for you, for you he would do anything, for you he would put aside his pride. He knew he couldn’t just call any sort of doctor because of the aether core in your heart, so he knew he had to call your doctor, Doctor Zayne. But oh, did he hate Dr.Zayne, YOUR Dr.Zayne. Sylus just knew that man was in love with you, your childhood friend who spent his life becoming a heart surgeon and then being your personal doctor. Tsk, he’s heard of the whole childhood friends to lover’s trope, he wasn’t a dumb man. He wasn’t dumb, but he was desperate, and he needed you to get better. It had already been a full day since he had been in your place, and you just kept getting worse. Begrudgingly he picked up your phone and did what he had to do.  

You don’t remember much in your sick haze. It was hard to even distinguish what was really going on or what was part of your fever dreams. You lucidly remember Sylus waking you up to give you soup and take medicine. You think you remember Zayne coming in which would make sense, he is your doctor, but you also remember Xavier? Maybe you weren’t particularly sure, it wouldn’t really make sense for him to be there, but you were sure you remembered seeing him.

Eventually, you gain a full sense of consciousness. Surprisingly, your body doesn’t ache like it has been and there isn’t an immense pressure in your head. You attempt to sit up when you notice a hand holding onto your arm, and attached to the hand was Sylus. A soft smile spreads on your face as you see him sitting most likely uncomfortably in a chair next to your bed. His head was laid beside you and his hand grasping onto your arm. You had no clue had long he had been there or how long he had been taking care of you. The pill bottles, half eaten soup and cups of water you don’t remember drinking or taking had to have come from somewhere and it wasn’t you.

“Ah, I see the kitten has finally stirred from her hibernation.” Sylus exhausted face meets your curious eyes.

“Yeah, I’m feeling much better.”  You say with a yawn and a stretch. The gaze he is giving you makes you feel small, causing you to turn away from him, “thank you”

His hand reaches out to grab your chin gently, “You had me worried, sweetie. You had a respiratory infection and pneumonia. What would have happened to you if I wouldn’t have come?” His jaw is set tight and you don’t think you would ever see the feared Onychinus leader looking scared. He was scared, scared he was going to lose you…...again.

“…… I’m sorry but you took care of me and I’m fine now. Yeah?” You say turning your head out of his hands in more embarrassment as you busy yourself with straightening out your night stand. As you pick up the bottle of pills, you notice you see that Zayne prescribed these. You glance between the bottle and then at Sylus.

He scoffs before taking the bottle from your hand, putting it back down “Well of course I had to reach out to your doctor. Your fever wouldn’t go down.”

“But you hate Zayne?”  You questioned as you tilt your head in a way that was way too cute for Sylus.

“I do not hate the doctor. I just don’t like how friendly he is with you on the occasion.” He scoffs at the giggle you let out, “And I’m aware that you are childhood friends, but the man should have some boundaries”

That makes you laugh even harder, not THE Sylus Quin talking about boundaries. He wouldn’t know a boundary if it shot him in the heart. It was sweet, he was being so sweet.

“Yeah, I thought seeing him was just a fever dream I was having actually. Funny enough, I thought I also saw my friend Xavier here.”

The noise that leaves Sylus had you holding back the biggest laugh that you could possibly muster. So in fact you had not imagine Xavier, he had actually been there and surprisingly Sylus let him in.

“Another one of your ‘friends’ who needs to work on their boundaries. He came over in the middle of the night questioning about your whereabouts after sending you NUMEROUS texts and phone calls. He was insistent on seeing you or he would have gotten your little hunter association involved and I didn’t think you would want that.” He groans with this cute pout on his face. “It seems you have a lot of these type of ‘friends’ who lack any type of boundaries. You should work on that sweetie.”

You reach out to grab his face making him look at you, his gaze softened when he saw your face “Thank you for taking care of me, Sy.”

He grabs your hand a places a small kiss upon the back of it, “Of course Kitten”

[mollysunder]

I've found new foil for my hat, and by hat I mean the "Mel is Guile" theory.

Look closely at Mel's concept art, specifically at the ornaments around Mel's hips and at the top of the train of her skirt. Do they look familiar? If your answer was no, don't worry, I might have figured it out.

Mel is wearing the symbols of Might and Vision of Noxus' Trifarix!

How am I sure? Well a few years back the Legends of Runeterra art team broke down Noxus' crest and incorporated it into the shape language of the three leaders that represented Noxus' Three Principles of Strength: Might, Guile, and Vision. Two of those three leaders, Swain and Darius, are actual members of the Trifarix, LeBlanc was probably included because Mel wasn't created by then and the devs have been adamant that LeBlanc is not Guile.

LeBlanc tangent aside, the portions of Noxus' crest that form Vision and Might are on Mel's back and hips respectively.

But how do we know that means Mel is Guile on the Trifarix Council and she's not just a Trifarix super fan or something? You probably didn't think the latter half, but the new Noxus map on League did answer the first half.

For League's new Noxus season, they updated their map to include impressions of Noxus' Trifarix Council. We have Darius as Might, Swain as Vision, and Guile whose face us obscured by the grass and flowers because Guile's identity is a state secret from the public.

If you zoom in on Guile, you'll notice there's an arch hovering over their figure, which could be a stylistic choice, but Mel's in-game model was revealed to included a fluttery ballroom shawl that hovers over her, especially when she activates her powers. Could it be a coincidence?

Possibly, but that's only if you don't notice the torso of Guile forms the Medarda diamond too!

Anyway I'll put my tinfoil hat back on the ground and go now.

[revelboo]

HELLO I was the anon who got a random blockee and was hoping for the soundwave figures and while I didn't get him I got Scavenger and he has my whole heart 😭😭😭 he's my lil booboo 🥰🥰 (I will be ordering soundwave tho and more I'm doomed)

He’s lonely. He needs friends 😃 Scrapper finally showed up after his tracking stopped updating Dec 31st and he disappeared off the face of the Earth. Two more to go.

Drive Pt 4

Constructicons x Reader

• “Thank you?” Part of you wants to ask if they’d hurt anyone stealing this stuff for you, but honestly? You’re scared to. Because it looks like Long Haul and Bonecrusher probably went on a crime spree. And Bonecrusher just keeps producing stuff out of nowhere to add to the pile. Food, clothes, small electronics, soaps and candles. Maybe they’d just demolished a mall? They mean well and they’re trying to take care of you, but you really hope they didn’t hurt anyone. Even as a guilty part of you is ridiculously excited about the food and soap.

• Bending, Long Haul begins setting your new things in the mini habsuite they’d made you. Noting that Scrapper and Scavenger had been busy while he’d been out and had tapped into the base water lines to make you a tiny wash rack and waste disposal area. Your little habitat now even bigger as they all keep adding to it. “You needed food and human stuff,” Long Haul mutters, embarrassed when you offer him a small smile. And it’s not like he’d minded. Getting to really let loose and destroy things had felt good. Freezing when you limp closer and lay a soft hand on his ped, he hesitantly brushes a servo over your head before turning away. “It’s either feed you or watch you die,” he adds gruffly, uncomfortable with your affection.

• Venting as you smile up at Long Haul, Bonecrusher reaches to gently scoop you up. Feeling little hands on his servos as he carries you over to his berth and lays back carefully rubbing your jaw. So small you feel insubstantial in his hands, and something about that fragility fascinates him. “You missed us?” He asks, stilling as you grab his servo and smile up at him like you’re not the least bit frightened. That trust shocking him. How can you be so small and not cower?

• Watching Long Haul pimping out your alien, Barbie dream house, you wrap your arms around Bonecrusher’s servo to keep him from petting from neck to navel and further south. It’s not like he knows better or means anything by it, but putting a stop to it as quickly as possible seems a smart move. “It was quiet,” you say opting for honesty. Because the six of them are constantly laughing and jostling each other. Loud and raucous in a way that reminds you of a frat house. Complete with the alcohol, or high grade as they’d called it. After realizing you’re safe as long as you play along at being their collective pet, you’d started consciously trying to make friends. After all, your survival depends on them.

• “Must have been boring,” Long Haul calls from the floor as he arranges boxes of food stuffs in a tidy pile in a corner. You’ll need storage space so this stuff isn’t just lying around. “I’m thinking cabinets and shelves,” he adds, looking at where Mixmaster and Hook are working on reports. Waiting for Mixmaster to vent at him, but set aside his report to help.

• Glancing at his brothers fussing with your space again, Hook checks on you and Bonecrusher. Making sure the much bigger mech isn’t being too rough with you, but so far he’s been shockingly gentle. And right now the huge mech is making a grumbling purr of his engines at you. Something he’d call out anyone else for. Getting punched in the face by Bonecrusher not exactly on his to do list, though, because his brothers definitely don’t warrant the same gentleness you do.

Previous

[starlemons]

Coffee and Crime ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ PART FOUR

Pairing ✦ mafia!bucky x reader

Word Count ✦ 3.6K

Warnings ✦ overall story has a 18+ content warning, MDNI, cussing, weapons (pew-pew), weapon caused injury (non-fatal), reader being a little self deprecating, insinuated crime

A/N ✦ this one is a long one! hope you enjoy! (added a little bit of a somewhat bucky POV for once as well)

PART THREE »»» Series Masterlist

I will update the series every 1-4 days depending on my schedule

Time seemed to speed by and next thing you knew it was the day of your date. Nerves riddled your stomach. 

You weren’t the most experienced in the world of dating. It embarrassed you to no end thinking about how you had only ever had one boyfriend. The ex in question and you having only dated for less than a year. 

You rubbed your eyes and peeled yourself out of bed, trying to shake the thoughts from your mind. After brushing your teeth and doing your skincare, you exited your room, heading to the kitchen.

Nat leaned up against the kitchen island, a small checkered plate was in her hand, a piece of banana bread sat on top of the dish.

“I already cut you a slice.”, she nodded her head towards the plate she had made for you.

“Thanks.”

The two of you ate in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet. 

“Nat,” you started, “What if he ends up not liking me?”

She shot you a dirty look.

“Quit thinking like that.”, she straightened up, walked over to you and put her hands on your shoulders, “Anyways if things don’t end up going well that’s his loss, you’re beautiful, and one of the kindest people I know.”

You smiled up at your friend, embracing her in a hug.

As she hugged you back Nat said, “Okay we have two hours until seven. Let’s go get you put together.”

She took you by the hand, dragging you to your room.

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Bucky Barnes was also wracked with nerves at the thought of your date. He leaned back in his office chair, one of his forearms thrown over his eyes.

“Buck, you’ve gotta relax.”, Steve chuckled at his best friend, “She’s just a girl, you’ve gone out with plenty of them, you’ll be fine.”

Bucky removed his arm from his eyes, sitting back upright in his seat. 

“Yeah but I wasn’t going out with those girls to date them.”

“Fair enough.”

“Look Steve, you’re just as aware as I am that most women don’t go for us for our personalities.”, Bucky shook his head, “I’m tired of being minimized to a checkbook or a pretty face. I want to find someone that I emotionally connect with, someone I want to do the little things in life with.”

Steve nodded at his best friend, staying silent to let him continue.

“I don’t know man, there’s just something about Y/N that just draws me to her. She’s beyond beautiful and I like that she seems to be the complete opposite of our world.,” Bucky pointed back and forth between him and Steve.

“Speaking of that, I was going to ask, how do you plan on telling her about your career.”, he used air quotes as he said career, raising his eyebrows at his friend. 

“I don’t know Steve, it’ll probably scare her half to death and she’ll want nothing to do with me.”, Bucky put his head in his hands, “How the fuck are you supposed to casually tell a girl, I’m the head of one of the oldest, and biggest mafia families in the city.”

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You looked yourself up and down for what had to be the twentieth time, feeling absolutely gorgeous. The dress you had picked was a dark midnight blue, with flowing bell sleeves. The hem of the dress reached right above your feet, a thigh high slit going up the left side of the garment. You wore glittering silver heels on your feet and silver jewelry adorned your ears to match. 

You had done your makeup, eyeliner and a dark plum colored lip. Nat helped with your hair, which was now pulled half up-half down. A small bow matching the color of your dress was wrapped around the pulled up portion of hair. 

Looking at the time on your phone you saw it was six fifty-one. In nine minutes Bucky would be gracing your front door, and your stomach immediately dropped at the realization. 

“Oh my God Nat I can’t-”

“Y/N, I’m not gonna listen to any bullshit about how you can’t because you’re too scared you’re gonna fuck something up.”, Nat cut you off, “Let go of all those negative thoughts and allow yourself to enjoy your night, you owe it to yourself.”

Your eyes welled up with tears.

“And don’t you dare start crying, you just did your makeup.”

You chuckled a little, trying to blink away the tears and fanning your eyes.

“Okay, okay no crying.”, you said, “I appreciate you Nat, I’m so lucky to call you my best friend.”

Nat pulled you in for a hug. Your moment however was interrupted by a knock at your front door. Grinning at you Nat shoved you in the direction of the entryway.

“You’ve got this!”, she said as she ducked down the hallway to avoid being seen.

You took a deep breath, smoothed down the front of your dress, and turned to the door. When you opened it Bucky stood in front of you; he wore a tailored black suit, a crisp white dress shirt sat underneath his jacket, and a forest green tie wrapped around his neck. He wore the same watch and rings he’d had on the two times you had seen him. 

“You look wow.”, Bucky said as he looked you up and down.

You blushed and thanked him.

“You look wow too.”, you stuttered out.

Bucky gleamed down at you, finding you adorable.

“Thank you. You ready to head out?”

You nodded your head, “Yeah I’m ready, let’s go.”

Pulling the door shut behind you, you locked it, and followed after Bucky. Once you made it outside, he approached a sleek black car, walking around to the passenger side, he opened the door for you. 

“Thank you.”, you said, holding onto his hand that he had extended to you, helping you lower yourself into the older Mustang.

He gently closed the door as soon as you were situated, coming back around the car to the drivers side, and getting in. The keys turned in the ignition, the car drumming to life, and the radio softly played a local station. Bucky shifted the car into drive and pulled away from your apartment, heading down the street.

The two of you drove in silence for a while, both of you almost too scared to talk. Almost. 

“How has your week been so far?”, Bucky asked, glancing over at you with a small smile on his lips.

Feeling your nerves slowly start to dissipate, you filled Bucky in on the absolutely wild interaction you had the day before at work; an older woman had come in and cut the entire line of people who had already been waiting to order, stating that because her grandson was supposedly Tik-Tok famous, she deserves special treatment. From there the two of you easily chatted back and forth, until you pulled up outside of your destination. 

The restaurant sat in the middle of a row of shops and other businesses. A decorative hanging sign sticking out from the restaurant wall read The Iron Man.

One of the valet boys hurried to the driver's side door, opening it for Bucky, greeting him, “It’s nice to see you again Mr. Barnes.”

He politely greeted the boy in return, moving around his car and opening the door for you, extending his hand once again to help you out of it. 

“This place is owned by a very close friend of mine.”, Bucky explained as the two of you approached the front doors.

Once inside your eyes looked around, absolutely in awe. Fairy lights twinkled around the dark restaurant, the curved booths were wrapped in a soft floral fabric, tables covered with perfectly bleached coverings, and a small vase of red flowers sat in the middle of each of them. 

“It’s so pretty in here.”, you said.

“I hoped you would like it, I figured this seemed like your vibe.”

Bucky couldn’t help but grin widely as he studied you. You looked absolutely immaculate to him, the dress you were wearing fit you perfectly, your makeup accentuating your already beautiful features. He also found himself rather pleased with the look of joy that was being expressed on your face.

The hostess led the two of you towards the back of the restaurant, your table being somewhat secluded from the others. Bucky pulled out your chair for you, helping you scoot it closer to the table after you sat. 

“Your server will be with you in a bit.,”, the young woman who sat you said with a smile, “And I’ll make sure to let Mr. Stark know you’ve stopped in Mr. Barnes.”

“Thank you.”

Both of you unrolled your silverware from your napkins, placing the linens in your laps and laying the cutlery out on the table. Lifting up your menu you began to read it, jaw almost dropping in shock of the prices. 

“What’s up?”, Bucky asked, noticing your frantic expression. 

“Everythings so expensive.”

He lifted his eyebrows at you, “Y/N, I’m paying, order whatever you want, price doesn’t matter, just get whatever sounds good to you.”

Your eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Yes, anything you want and it’s yours.”, he said, shooting you a big smile.

You took your time scanning the menu, trying to ignore the massive price tags by the dishes and only focus on what looked tasty to you. Finally deciding on your meal, you sit the menu down.

“Good Evening.”, a young man approaches your table, “My name is Evan, I’m going to be your server tonight. Can I get you started with any cocktails?”

“I’ll take my usual drink and the lady will have…..”, Bucky trailed off, waiting for your answer. 

“Oh I’ll just have water thank you.”

“Of course, I’ll be right back with those for you.”

Evan the waiter turned and headed towards what you assumed was the door to the kitchen area. 

“Sorry, not really feeling like drinking after what happened last time I drank alcohol.”, you sheepishly chuckled, rubbing your arms anxiously, worried the man in front of you might find you silly for your admission.

“That’s totally okay, makes sense to me, but you don’t have to explain yourself just because you didn’t want to drink.”

You smiled at him softly.

Evan returned to the table a few minutes later, bringing you your water and Bucky his old fashioned. Before he retreated again, he took your meal orders, steak for Bucky and lobster mac and cheese for you. The waiter reached for the menus, removed them from in front of you, and stated your food would be out shortly as he made his leave. 

Bucky and you talked a lot, the conversation between the two of you flowing with ease. You learned he was twenty-nine (a few years older than you), you both loved cats and literature, he told you about his love for cooking and baking, and you expressed yours for mixology. The two of you were deep in a conversation about possibly going to a cat cafe together, when a familiar man approached your table.

“Bucky!” Tony called, leaning down to embrace his friend.

Bucky patted Tony on the back.

“Nice seeing you again.”, Tony said as he turned to you.

You stared at him, trying to place him in your memory.

“Shit you don’t remember anything from that night, duh, I’m a jerk. My names Tony, Tony Stark, Bucky is one of my oldest friends, known him since birth.”, Tony lamented, extending his hand to shake yours.

“My name is Y/N”, you said, embracing his hand back, “It’s nice to meet you sir.”

The three of you chatted for a while, Tony yapping about old memories he had with Bucky, before he was pulled away by a frantic waitress, who whispered something in his ear.

“I’ve got to go take care of some urgent business, I hope you enjoy the food Y/N, and hopefully I’ll be seeing you around again soon.”, Tony winked at Bucky, waving at you as he made his exit. 

“I like him.”, you smiled at Bucky.

“Well don’t tell him that, you’ll just make his head bigger.”

The two of you laughed. 

You were beyond thrilled that the date was going so well. Bucky had so far been a perfect gentleman to you, making sure you didn’t touch a single door handle of any kind and pulling out your chair for you. Such simple acts almost had you turned into a swooning idiot. What really put you at ease, was the fact that the two of you could just bounce back and forth off of each other, not running out of topics of conversation. 

Evan appeared again, this time carrying a serving tray. He placed your respective meals in front of each of you, before he turned to leave saying he would be back in a bit to check in on the food and to enjoy. 

You reached for your fork, scooping up a big bite of your meal. As soon as the food touched your tongue you swore you were in heaven. This was the best mac and cheese you think you’d ever tasted. You almost moaned around your fork, savoring the test.

“How do you like it?”, Bucky asked.

“It’s amazing.”

The two of you ate in mostly silence, you too focused on your food at the moment to form a good conversation. You sat down your fork, having eaten almost all of your meal, and feeling like you were about to burst from the seams. Bucky on the other had eaten his whole meal, setting down his silverware on the empty plate that remained. You honestly weren’t surprised. With how beefy the man was, you knew he had to be able to put down some food.

“Do you want any dessert?”

“I think I’m going to explode if I try to eat any more.”, you laughed, hands holding onto your stomach.

“The check it is then.”, he laughed along with you.

Evan had boxed up your remaining food, bringing it back to you in a little bag. Bucky slid him a generous wad of cash, telling him to keep the change. Standing, Bucky made his way to you, pulling out your chair, helping you stand. He then reached past you, grabbing your bag of leftovers. 

“Thank you for dinner.”, you said to him.

“The pleasure is all mine.”, he responded, his empty hand brushing yours, as the two of you walked closely out of the restaurant and waited for the valet to get his car.

As you climbed back inside the Mustang, and Bucky shut the door, you felt as though you were a princess in some kind of fairytale. How lucky were you to be on a date with such a kind and sweet man. Bucky joined you back in the car, clicking his seatbelt into place and starting up his vehicle. 

“If it’s okay with you, I kind of wanted to just drive around and talk some more before I take you home? I’m enjoying talking to you way too much right now to end our date already.”, he admitted turning to you.

Your face blossomed red and butterflies churned in your stomach, “Yeah of course, I would love to do that, let me text my roommate really quick and let her know.”

Bucky beamed at your response.

You pulled your phone out, opening your text chain with Nat and sending her a message.

Y/N: Bucky and I are going to drive around for a bit, he said he likes talking to me ahhhh, dinner went amazing, will fill you in on everything when I get home!

She liked the message almost immediately and sent you back a response.

WIFEY: I told you to not worry! I love you!

Y/N: I love you too!

You and Bucky drove off down the semi-busy street and away from the restaurant. At first you had just been driving straight forward when Bucky all of a sudden began to change direction every few blocks. He made a left here, two rights there, another left, not really driving around with any destination in mind, at least that’s what you assumed. 

In all actuality, a few blocks back Bucky had realized that a large black SUV was tailing his car. As to not raise any alarm to you he continued on talking as though nothing was wrong. Mentally he noted that this was probably related to some of the business Tony had been referring to.

When there was a pause in your conversation, Bucky reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone and dialed Tony’s number. 

“Give me just a second sweetheart, gotta check on something really quick.”, Bucky said to you, reaching out and turning up the radio louder, hoping you wouldn’t overhear his conversation. 

You nodded, responding with an okay.

Two rings later and Tony answered, “What’s up?”

“I think part of the business you had to deal with wasn’t taken care of man. I’ve got a dog giving chase if you get what I mean.”, he whispered into the phone. 

“The girl still with you?”

Bucky glanced at you, “Yeah.”

“Shit. Head out of the city, I’ll track your location and the guys and I will catch up to you. We’ll get rid of the problem before your girl even notices what’s going on.”

Bucky hung up the phone without a good-bye. He took another left turn, followed by a right, getting off on a remote road that led out of the city and into the country.

You had purposefully diverted your attention from his phone call, focusing on anything other than Bucky, not wanting to be rude and eavesdrop. 

“Where are we going?”, you asked, worried slightly at the fact your date was driving you out to the middle of nowhere.

“Shit, this seems creepy to you, doesn’t it?”, Bucky questioned, seeing your expression, “I just wanted to drive out a bit to try and see the stars better.”, he quickly made up a lie.

It totally worked on you too, easing your worries. The car ventured even further into the country, fields of crops on either side of the road from you, the car behind you inching closer.

“You started to make me worried that I was about to become the topic of a true crime podcast for a second.”, you giggled.

Bucky joined you, laughing loudly, noticing in the rearview that the car pursuing you was way too close.

A loud pop sounded, something whizzing past your face, and the front windshield splintered with cracks. 

“Oh fuck!”, Bucky yelled from beside you.

He floored the gas pedal, speeding ahead of your attackers. Another pop sounded from behind you, the passenger side mirror gaining a hole through the middle. 

“Holy shit are they fucking shooting at us?!”, you screamed.

“Yes, yes they are!”, Bucky yelled back.

“What the fuck why?!”

He didn’t know how to answer you, glossing over your question, he asked one of his own.

“Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

You baulked at him.

“No I don’t know how to shoot a gun why the hell would I know how to shoot a–”, you were cut off as another bullet shot past your head., “Holy shit!”

“Okay well I’m going to need you to hold the wheel steady for me then!”, he instructed you.

Before you could give him a response, he let go of the steering wheel. You launched your body across the console, yanking the wheel to the correct position, keeping you guys straight on the road. Bucky reached to his left, opening a secret drawer of sorts in his car door. Reaching inside he pulled out a black pistol. You stared at it in shock, eyes flipping between the weapon and Bucky. 

Next thing you knew, he had turned around in his seat, aiming it towards the vehicle giving you guys chase. As he steadied the weapon, another bullet shot through the car digging into his left shoulder, an agonized groan leaving his mouth. Ignoring the burning feeling in his arm, Bucky realigned the weapon with his target and fired, successfully taking out one of the tires on your assailant's car. Their vehicle lost control, veering off the road and into the ditch. 

“Shit.”, Bucky hissed, as he faced forward, taking the wheel back over from you.

Bucky's arm was throbbing, white hot pain radiating down his arm. His attention was locked forward, focusing on getting you as far away from the shooters as possible. The two of you drove further and further away, finally stopping at the end of a dead end road. He threw the car in park, hurriedly reaching around for his phone. Finally finding it, Bucky immediately dialed Tony again.

As the phone started ringing, Bucky’s eyes finally looked at you. Your hair was tousled, shattered pieces of glass were scattered all over your dress, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost. 

Your head reeled, there was no way any of this was actually real. You reached for your forearm, giving it a pinch, feeling pain bloom from the spot you squeezed in between your fingers. 

You turned slowly, eyes locking with Bucky’s blue ones. The two of you sat there in silence for just a brief moment before you spoke.

“What in the absolute fuck is going on?!”

PART FIVE COMING SOON

TAGLIST IS OPEN!! LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ADDED!

TAGLIST ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ @danzer8705 @sebastians-love @mrsnikstan

[aurumalatus]

𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝟕]

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 3.5k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection, mentions of blood and injury

summary.

in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.

author's note. thank you all for waiting during my hiatus <3 turnfire is back, probably a bit sporadic for updates! still, i hope you'll join me in seeing the story through until the end! reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

↢ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗡𝗦

In the week that you’re apart, Kinich dreams of you five times.

It’s a welcome respite from the constant nightmares he’d been experiencing. They’d grown more frequent since your injury, lying in wait in the dead of night. He’d found himself trapped by them, thrown to a hellish dreamscape that saw you meeting your end over and over again. It always ended with the sight of your body, bloody and broken.

And he was always too weak to save you.

But since the contract, Kinich finds new power thrumming through his veins. He’d thought he was strong before, but this is different. He wonders if this is how it must feel to hold a Vision, to be one of the Archon’s chosen. Being afforded a power like that means protection and stability, however steep the price may be. And sure, his body is a high price.

But when he remembers your screams of pain and the tears running rivers down your cheeks, he really can’t bring himself to regret this deal at all.

Still, Ajaw’s power brings its own share of consequences, like actually dealing with Ajaw. Truthfully, he’s reluctant to let the Dragonlord anywhere near you—he tends to run his mouth, and he doesn’t want him saying anything unnecessary in your presence. 

He isn’t a great companion, not like you—he gets on Kinich’s nerves, both intentionally and unintentionally. But there is something to be gained from a power as great as his, a power that even Kinich is forced to recognize.

The first dream is nothing special. There’s no rhyme or reason to it; he dreams of running through the meadow with you, flower petals bursting and floating through the air. His next dream is similar, though this time it’s in the forest, river rushing alongside you. He dreams of the late nights you spend talking, of the dinners you’ve shared over candlelight, of your whispers under the stars. It doesn’t matter what it is, it’s you. 

It’s always, always you.

So, if sacrifice must be had, let it be his. 

Ajaw seems to realize it too, the weight of the bond they have forged. Ecstatic as he is to take Kinich’s body as his own, he knows that most people wouldn’t make such a deal so easily. He tries to question it a few times, wondering who this “special mortal” could be, wondering why Kinich would need his “awesome powers” to protect them. Kinich doesn’t care to answer—no one needs to know how he feels about you except you.

And, by the time he makes it back to your shared home, he’ll make sure that you know too.

He has the man in the ruins to thank for that oath. After he’d escaped the darkness, he’d made a small grave for the others who had embarked on that journey with him. He hadn’t had much onhand, but he tried—a small pile of stones, stacked precariously until they were about his height. Though he hadn’t known the other men well, he feels a sort of duty to their memory. After all, he had fought by their side, and no one deserves to die alone.

And now, he has the means to protect you, and to make sure that you never have to cry again.

On the seventh day, Kinich raises his head to the sky, one hand shielding his eyes as he gauges the position of the sun. If he starts the journey now, he could be by your side again by nightfall. Something flutters in his chest at the thought of seeing you, and part of him feels like he really can’t wait any longer.

“Ajaw,” he calls. The dragon is resting nearby, picking berries off of plants and scarfing them down. “We’re going home.”

He walks, and doesn’t wait to see if the dragon is following him. He’ll be able to tell based on the complaints that Ajaw is constantly spewing—he’d learned quickly how to phase them out of his mind.

“Your house?” Ajaw moans, still smeared with the juice of a Quenapa Berry. “What is it, a pathetic cave on the side of the mountain? Or maybe a cardboard box on the side of the road?”

Kinich rolls his eyes. “It’s a real house, and you’ll be lucky if I even let you inside. Now pick up the pace.”

The wind is good today, he notes, ideal for grappling. Ajaw scoffs, reluctantly following alongside his partner. 

“What are you in such a rush for anyway? Mortals get excited over the smallest things.”

Your smiling face flashes in Kinich’s mind. He sighs.

“Just feeling a bit homesick.”

/

“I’m home.”

Kinich’s voice floats languidly through your quiet house, comforting familiarity seeping into his bones. Something delicious is cooking—the smell of rich meat and spices wafts through the air.

On the table, there’s a loaf of fresh bread, a single slice spread with your favorite jam. Fresh fruit overflows from the basket on the counter, shiny skin promising ripeness. One of his old shirts is draped over the arm of the couch, sewing needle and thread strewn across the fabric. You’d kept busy while he was gone, evidently.

Somehow, simple as it is, the sight of your home at peace is almost overwhelming. After days spent in the dark humidity of the ruins, he suddenly feels like he can finally relax, if only for a moment. He lets the bag drop from his shoulder, falling to the floor with a dull thud.

There’s no response, but Kinich can see your shoes by the door and the faint sound of splashing water—most likely, you’re in the bath. Still, Ajaw fixes him with a look of disbelief. 

“Did you seriously make up an entire girl just to convince me you don’t live alone in the mountains? That’s pathetic, even for you.”

Kinich fights the urge to stomp the small dragon into the ground, opting to start organizing his things instead. Kneeling down, he unzips his bag, starting to pull out various trinkets and pouches of Mora.

“She is real, she’s just in the bath. Try not to be so annoying when she comes out, or I’ll punch you out.”

Ajaw turns red in irritation. “Just try it, servant! And you’ll see just what it means to be a Dragonlord—”

“Kinich? Is that you?”

He perks up immediately at the chime of your voice, excitement palpable in your words. There’s a scuffle behind the door—you’re rushing to change and greet him, he thinks, face warm. Even Ajaw seems to notice his change in demeanor, based on his mocking chuckle.

“Oh, how sweet. Your little girlfriend has been waiting for you.”

Kinich doesn’t even have time to retort, because the bathroom door flies open and you come bursting forth, wide grin splitting across your face. You clear the room in only a few steps—Kinich’s eyes widen at the sheer speed—and then you’re collapsing into his arms with all the force of a raging bull. 

He catches you anyway, heart nearly pounding out of his chest at the proximity, at the still-damp heat of your skin, at the way your arms wrap around him so tightly.

Spring blooms around him as he holds you closer.

“I missed you,” you admit quietly. Your breath is warm against his neck, but the feeling is pleasant all the same.

“I missed you too.”

After a moment, he holds you at arms-length, gauging the state of you. Your bandages are a clean, pristine white, and there’s less of them than when he left—your wound must have healed considerably.

Noticing his gaze, you smile, stretching your arms wide.

“I’m a lot better now,” you assure him. “We can start going on jobs together again soon!”

It’s a true relief to see you healthy and happy again. Though the guilt will likely never leave him, he wants to burden you as little as possible. 

“That’s good,” he replies, thumbing over your cheek. His breath hitches when you lean happily into his touch. “I’ll look for some good commissions next time I go to the outpost.”

Silently, he notes that the two of you will have to take some simpler ones first, at least while you’re still healing completely. And maybe for the time being, while he gets used to Ajaw’s power—he can’t risk hurting you again.

Someone clears their throat obnoxiously, and Kinich finally remembers that he hadn’t returned home alone.

Brows furrowed, you peek over Kinich’s shoulder to see the small, pixelated dragon floating there. He has an impatient expression on his face, like he can’t stand the lack of attention. 

“Kin,” you whisper, “I think something followed you home.”

“I am not something,” Ajaw roars, “I am the Almighty Dragonlord K’uhul Ajaw, the bearer of power that strikes fear into nations and gods, the pinnacle of strength and—”

“I found him in a cave,” Kinich interrupts dryly. “And now he won’t stop talking.”

Despite the bold introduction, you don’t seem intimidated by Ajaw at all—you’re peering over him curiously, poking at his tail and flicking at his feet. He growls in reply, already full of protest.

“It’s…floating,” you observe, in awe.

“It? You dare refer to the Almighty Dragonlord as an it? I oughta burn you to ash right here!”

Kinich shoves Ajaw aside, a sour expression on his face. Admittedly, he’s irritated at your reunion being interrupted.

“Try anything against her and see what happens.”

Ajaw grumbles some curses, but neither of you pay him any mind—you’re too overjoyed that Kinich is home, and Kinich is just happy to be in your presence.

“I made some stew for dinner,” you announce, practically skipping over to the stove. There’s a pot already boiling there—that must’ve been what he smelled earlier. “Your favorite. Ajaw—sorry, Almighty Dragonlord can eat too if he wants.”

When you bring it over to the table, beckoning him over, Ajaw huffs at his side. 

“If she’s inviting me to dine, maybe she isn’t so bad after all,” he comments haughtily, and Kinich resists the urge to roll his eyes. Leave it to Ajaw to change his opinion of you on a dime. Instead of arguing with the impossible dragon, he moves to clean up the rest of his things.

Ajaw pounces on the bread right away, tearing it to crumbs. It doesn’t seem to bother you, based on the way you calmly hum as you stir the stew. Really, it doesn’t seem like anything could ruin your mood at this point, and that thought makes Kinich smile in turn.

“If you’re planning on keeping him like a pet,” you say as you place three bowls of stew on the table, eyes flicking between him and Ajaw, “something tells me he won’t be able to learn many tricks.”

Luckily for you both, Ajaw is too busy scarfing down his food to hear. Kinich shakes his head, a half-smile on his lips.

“Not likely. We made a contract, actually.”

Your head tilts in curiosity as you take your seat. “Really? What kind?”

It’s not uncommon for Kinich to make deals—it’s what he’s good at, and he’s even better at following through. So it comes as no surprise to you that it would be the nature of his relationship with Ajaw. Still, you don’t expect him to continue:

“My body, for his power.”

A sharp gasp slips between your lips. 

When he turns to face you, your smile falters at the edges, a withering bloom.

“You…what?”

“It was a fair trade,” he explains calmly, checking his grappling hook. There’s a chip in the metal, he notes grimly, evidence of its overuse. “In exchange for my body after death, I get to—”

The clattering sound of your chair tipping to the floor has Kinich flinching, one hand outstretched instinctually toward you. When he looks up, your expression is like shattered glass—you’re clutching your stomach like someone’s just punched you.

“In exchange? For you?” Your words thin at the end, dying halfway up your throat. The sound makes Kinich’s heart twist. “Are you joking?”

It’s as though all the air has been sucked out of the room. Though he’d expected your surprise, he hadn’t expected the despair, the anger that burns in your irises.

“I promise you, it was fair,” Kinich reiterates. “As annoying as he is, Ajaw does have a lot of useful power.”

“But he’s taking your body,” you say. Each word comes out almost robotically. “That’s supposed to be fair?”

Hesitantly, he takes a step toward you. You shrink away, directly onto your fallen chair—you stumble and fall, a pained expression painting your features. Even as quick as he is to rush to your side, Kinich can’t help but curse himself internally.

Somehow, no matter what he does, he hurts you every time.

You recover quickly, climbing to your feet, and Ajaw merely watches, uncharacteristically silent. Kinich doesn’t really care what he thinks anyway—he’s far more focused on the glassy tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

“It’s only once I die,” he assures you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. You flinch at the feeling, eyes wide. “For as long as I’m alive, I’ll be stronger.”

You shake your head. “You don’t need that thing’s power, Kin. Give it back, we’ll be fine.”

From his place at the table, Ajaw sneers. 

“How ungrateful! You have no idea how many humans would scramble and die for the chance to use a sliver of my—”

“Ajaw,” Kinich breathes, a warning, stare never leaving yours. “Get out.”

Ajaw huffs. “Do you even hear her? She’s being totally unreasonable—”

“Ajaw.” Kinich grits his teeth until it’s practically audible, tone laced with frost. “Get. Out.”

The tension is so razor-sharp that even the Almighty Dragonlord slinks out the door, though he grumbles as he goes. You don’t seem to care either way, instead scrubbing at the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

Silence falls, a blanket of ice over the warmth of your home.

He hates it. He hates the way it reminds him of his parents, of the countless fights that occurred here, and he hates the broken sheen in your eyes when you look at him. It’s a far cry from your previous brightness.

“Please, Kin,” you plead, a near-whisper, “please, please give his power back to him.”

You grasp at his arms, tracing the tattoos etched into the skin there, like you’re trying to remind yourself that he’s still here. Small cuts litter his skin, evidence of the journey he’d endured before returning to you, and your frown deepens.

“I can’t,” he replies. “The contract is done.”

His words sink deep into your mind, a stone in water, the weight of what he’s done slowly dawning on you. He can see it in your eyes—the fear that takes root. The fear that one day, he’ll no longer be by your side.

With a sigh, you rise to your feet, moving toward the couch. Kinich follows.

“You have to understand,” he starts, almost begging, even as you walk away, “I only wanted to be stronger for you. I don’t want you to get hurt again—”

When you whirl on him, your eyes are burning.

“So it’s because of me? Because I got hurt?”

And really, it was, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t because of you, or any sort of perceived weakness of yours. If anything, Kinich thinks, it was his own that brought him this far—his own selfish desires for you.

“It’s not like that,” he murmurs, reaching for you. His heart pangs when you flinch away from his touch—you’ve never done that before in his life. “I’m stronger now. I can protect you now—”

“I never wanted you to protect me, Kinich!”

The pure volume of your voice seems to shake the walls of the house, and Kinich feels like it’s all crumbling down around him. He’s never seen you like this—nearly quivering with anger and disappointment, tears running endlessly down your cheeks. 

You can’t seem to decide where to look, but your gaze lands on his all the same. He almost wishes it didn’t—he can’t take the sorrow in your eyes.

“I’ve been learning on my own. I want to fight with you. I don’t want you to protect me, or hide me away, or sacrifice anything more for me. I just wanted to be with you!”

“We can still be together, it’s just—”

You gesture wildly outside, to where Ajaw is presumably waiting.

“Just that your life is tied to this…this thing now, and now not even your own body belongs to you. Do you realize how insane that is, Kin?”

And he wants to tell you that it’s not about Ajaw at all, it’s about you. It’s the fact that he’s always belonged to you, he wants to belong to you, and being strong is the only way he knows how to do that. He thinks of his mother, of the price of her smile—he would pay any price to see yours.

He wants to tell you that he’d thought of you every day he was away, perhaps every moment. He wants to tell you what he promised himself back in the ruins.

But he can’t seem to move an inch. He should say something, he knows. Comfort you in some way. All he can do is watch as you collapse onto the couch, old and fraying, stare fixed blankly to the wall.

And when he remembers the sight of your blood seeping through your shirt, he still can’t bring himself to regret this.

You hold your face in your hands. “We…we were happy, Kinich. Wasn’t that enough?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

You don’t answer.

And, as always, Kinich drowns in the realization that he’d hurt you again. His father’s voice echoes in his mind.

It’s your fucking fault. This is all your fault.

The deal had been fair, at least to him, and he was rarely wrong in these things. He’d gained a power to protect you. With this newfound strength, you’d have no reason to worry again. 

So why did it feel like everything was falling apart?

He’s never been good at these things—at feelings, at vocalizing them—but all he’s ever wanted was to be what you needed. But someone like him isn’t worthy of your light.

He really, really wants to be.

Kinich slinks to your side, careful as he kneels before you. Your head is still hung, tears dripping into your lap. He tries not to let the sorrow on your face deter him, at least for now—you deserve to hear what he’s been thinking all along.

Even if it’s too little, too late, he has to tell you.

His fingertips brush against your knee first, apologetic. For now, you don’t push him away. He finds comfort in that, somehow. Even when everything the two of you have built until now lies on the precipice, the mere sensation of your warmth is enough to calm him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you first,” he whispers, letting his hand drift toward yours.

You don’t reply, which makes Kinich think that you’re simply waiting to hear what he has to say. A deep breath fills his lungs, slow, the buildup of everything he’s longed to communicate all these years. 

Outside, the sun is falling to rest, leaving shards of fading golden light in its wake. Kinich watches its luminescence slip over your face, slow and winding. 

“I thought you were going to die back then. And it would’ve been all my fault.”

Even suggesting the possibility has something in his chest writhing and twisting, a chill settling in his bones. He’s lost too much until now, and he’s always told himself he could move past it. And yet, he doesn’t think he could ever stomach losing you.

“I couldn’t let that happen again,” he finishes quietly.

He can practically hear the gears turning in your head as you absorb his words. But your hand doesn’t leave his, and he holds steadfast to that feeling.

A sigh escapes your lips. 

“And I can’t let Ajaw have you, even after death. I told you I would always be by your side, Kin, and I wish you would trust me to do that on my own.”

His eyes widen, and he’s about to reply when—

A knock echoes at your front door.

You sniffle once, then twice, gathering yourself. Kinich moves to stop you—he’s sure it’s just Ajaw getting impatient during his timeout.

“It’s not Ajaw,” you assert, practically reading his mind. “It’s the couriers.”

The couriers? They don’t come here often—that fact hasn’t changed since his parents lived in his house. A seed of unease plants itself in his stomach. 

“They’ve been looking for you,” you sigh. Before you can take another step, his fingers wrap tight around your wrist, rooting you in place.

“Why? What do they want with me?”

The look in your eyes is far away, falling upon the lukewarm stew on the table. It was supposed to be a happy occasion, all of it. Instead, your lip quivers as you admit:

“The Wayob called for you. You’ve inherited an Ancient Name.”

And, despite all his efforts, Kinich feels the distance between you growing wider and wider.

[kiryoutann]

i wanted to rant about simon.

what do you think so far like what are your actual headcanons for the canon simon vs this simon from this series?

my feelings about the actual simon is quite vague. i've read far more fanfictions than bothering with the actual material so my picture of his is not really...constant? idk

but with this simon, he scares me. just to think about people that can engage in such romantic and sensual acts with little to no feeling involved.

or the mc's father. her dad makes me feel such an anger and injustice that i don't know how to express it and i know we probably won't get a satisfying update on him.

you don't like your wife fine i could understand the distance between them, but how can somebody forget their child no matter if they share the same blood or not, after all the time he raised her

leaving all that behind just to start a whole new life. how can that not eat somebody alive

OHH this is actually a good question. honestly for me, simon is probably one of the hardest character to write about because he doesn't give away too much. too calm. too know-it-all.

we're just gonna talk about the romance aspects!

but based on my head-canon of the canon simon, he has those younger years where he avoids romance, but not this actively and aggressively. it's more because he has too much on his plate (anger management issues, PTSD, depression) than because he think he's not good enough for some happiness (but he also doesn't expect/hope for it.)

canon younger (probably 6-7 years after he killed Roba) Simon lives his life without the need for things to turn out in certain ways. as he gets older (yes, the 2022/2023 ghost) and better mentally, he's become a little more open to the idea, though.

he's still not actively seeking romance, settling on one-nightstands and things that don't require any strings attached. however, he's not completely closed off to the idea too. if he has someone he likes AND TRUST (this is already a high wall to get over), he might act on it. but again, not really actively pursuing it and knows he doesn't need it.

and this might come as a surprise, but he's actually the biggest flirt out there—well, at least when it's only the two of you. when in front of his taskforce, he goes back to acting like he's the calm, collected, cool, stoic, scary lieutenant that everyone knows. can't have you ruin his reputation, right?

"it's private but not secret," with him. though it's not loud PDA, sometimes he lets his hands linger in places like your waist, your hips, shoulders. his love language is act of service, gift giving, physical touch—he makes sure to always appreciate you with compliments and love affirmations, but he's never really a man who's big on words.

WHILE THIS SIMON, hmmm.. he's a bit more complicated. and a mess. at some point, you can think of him as the younger version of canon simon we just talked about to simplify it, but even that's not really accurate considering the different ways they handle "all that sappy stuff" (as simon would say). this one actively and AGGRESIVELY avoids romance.

and while they both (my ver. of canon simon and this simon) sort to flings and one-nightstands, the canon simon is more careful and actually follows the boundaries he draws himself. while this simon outlines the boundaries, follows his rules until an interesting bird enters his orbit, violates them, and destroys them himself before he goes around saying "you read that wrong, darling."

NOW, ABOUT THE FATHER. . .

RIGHT! in my opinion, it's better for them to get a divorce actually and Dad still plays a role in MC's life rather than just leaving her. like, i know it'll still hurt the MC but, at least she can still have both of her parents even though in different houses! at least she doesn't have to feel neglected in her childhood.

okay, you hate someone you thought you would love forever, but abandoning your child? whose very existence was created because of you? talk about the Dad will come up in the sequel. hell, he'll even make an appearance with his two ballet loving new daughters. imagine how MC will feel.

sadly, this happens a lot in real life. fathers leaving and starting a new life without thinking about his "old" family. how people shame single mothers but never the absent fathers. people shame many women who have "daddy issues" or call them "fatherless" yet never call out men's incapability of being a real, PRESENT father.

[immortalmrwavell]

Teaching Obsession

(Original story posted July 19th 2022) This story has been mildly Updated

Note: James Tenner is not Mr Wavell. I just happened to use the same model who would eventually end up becoming the body of Wavell

This past year had been an… interesting year for Luke to say the least. He’d started a job at his local college as a teaching assistant last September and one of the groups he’d been assigned to help was being taught by Mr James Tenner. From day one Mr Tenner had caught Luke’s eye.

Mr Tenner was 41 years old and still looked absolutely incredible. He seemed to be one of those men that only looked better with age. Even his physique was incredible if the well fitted clothing he wore were any indication. Much better shape than Luke had ever been in, that much was certain. Most of the time the dashing middle aged teacher would be seen wearing an eye-catching suit or at least something that was smart casual. He was very well groomed with immaculate stubble and slicked back, styled hair that flecks of silver dotted throughout. At a glance you could immediately tell that he took a lot of pride in his appearance and it certainly paid off. Most of the time he looked more like a distinguished businessman than a college English professor. One could only wonder how he afforded everything. A wealthy family perhaps.

For each and every lesson Luke would assist alongside Mr Tenner, he would grow more and more obsessed with the man. Constantly stealing glances at the handsome professor, his body perfectly wrapped in the fabric of whatever suit he’d decided to wear that day. And if he was lucky Mr Tenner would take off his jacket, giving Luke an even better view of that hot teacher ass that pressed against those tight pants he wore. And though Luke didn’t interact with it, he would constantly hear the students whispering to one another saying how fit Mr Tenner was.

Now however it was getting near the end of the academic year. Luke only had one more lesson left to sit in Mr Tenner and after that they were done for the year. Who knows if he’d get to work alongside him again next year. Had he taken it for granted? After getting to spend all this precious time around that hot stallion of a man, he just didn’t want things to change. Well thankfully for him, maybe they didn’t have to.

Recently a strange package had arrived on his doorstep. After checking it was definitely for him and not a mistake, Luke opened it to find a letter sat on top of what looked to be a strange device that he certainly hadn’t ordered. Hell he didn’t even know what it was. Pulling it out, the device looked to be made up of two helmets that were wired up to a controller of some kind. Confused, Luke opened the letter to figure out what this was about.

What he read seemed unreal. The letter explained how the sender somehow knew of Luke’s obsession with his senior co-worker and that they simply wanted to help fulfill that desire in the greatest way imaginable. When it explained how the machine worked, one part of Luke’s mind was screaming that it was bullshit. Yet at the same time whether it be out of lust, desire or just dumb hope, he couldn’t help but want to believe it. It also went on to explain how there was a small vial in the box he’d probably need as well. There was no name to indicate who the letter was from. Only a single initial. “W”.

After sifting back through the box, Luke was quick to find the vial that’d been mentioned and placed it down on the table beside the machine. In that moment a grin broke out across his face as he imagined what this could possibly mean for him.

———

The next morning Luke arrived at the college as he normally would only today his backpack was a fair bit heavier today than usual. He was with Mr Tenner for the afternoon so he had to slug through the morning first while hiding his excitement. On the outside he was professional but on the inside he just couldn’t wait to get this first half over and done with so he could test out the gift he’d been given.

After lunch however, it was finally time. Luke was able to hide his lust-fueled desire for Mr Tenner behind a kind smile as he entered the room before sitting down and discussing the afternoon ahead with the older teacher. Since it was the last day and they’d done the final exams for the year already, today was planned to just be a fun lesson for games and socialising. That said, it ended up being a very chilled out afternoon with both Luke and the handsome Mr Tenner being able to relax as the students enjoyed their last lesson in this class for the academic year.

Once the students had been allowed to head home however, instead of leaving with them, Luke stayed behind. Today he had different plans. Instead he sat and chatted with Mr Tenner for a while in the classroom as the handsome professor finished up the last of his paperwork. Luke eyed up the strong cup of coffee Mr Tenner had beside him and immediately he knew that’d be his golden ticket. He waited for just the right moment when the dashing silver fox got up to grab something, leaving his drink unattended, for Luke to make his move. He whipped out the vial before pouring its contents into the coffee. Mr Tenner was none the wiser.

Luke watched with anticipation as Mr Tenner returned to his seat before picking up his mug and taking another hefty gulp of coffee. Then another, and another until he’d drunk every very last drop. Unforyunatly for him however, the caffeinated beverage didn’t seem to keep him awake and alert in the slightest. If anything he felt more and more drowsy the more he had and even now his eyes were beginning to flutter. As his vision began to blur, he knew something was wrong but it was already too late. The last thing he saw before passing out was Luke’s face twisting from fake concern into a look of… excitement?

Luke watched with glee as the forgoes older man’s head tilted back over the chair, dropping his pen to the floor in process. Mr Tenner was out cold meaning step one was complete. Now onto step two. Luke reached into his bag and carefully pulled out the two helmets along with the controller linking them. He wasted no time in getting Mr Tenner to sit a bit more upright before placing one of the helmets on his head. Once he was sure it was secured in place, Luke grabbed the matching helmet and slipped it on himself. Step two complete.

The young man grabbed the controller and looked down at the buttons. Finally onto step three. Thankfully the letter he’d got came with a few simple instructions on how to work the machine. There were quite a few different buttons but it was surprisingly simple once he knew what he was doing. He went ahead with pressing a few of them and adjusting some of the settings until he was certain the device was in the correct mode. With that Luke looked across at the gorgeous man he’d been crushing on for the past year, then down at himself and finally back to the device.

”Here goes nothing.” He thought to himself before activating it.

It was hard for Luke to recall what happened after that. There was a flash as the helmets sparked to life causing him to jolt around a bit. His vision quickly became blurry as he started to lose feeling throughout his body until finally it all faded to black… but not for long. The clock seemed to indicate that only around 15 minutes had passed before he started to come back around. Luke blinked his eyes open groggily, only now he was the one sitting behind the professor's desk, not in front of it. Even more surprising though was seeing his own unconscious body slumped in a chair before him!

Looking down at himself Luke was swift to notice the suit he was now wearing. It was Mr Tenner’s! And his body… it all felt so different. Older yet also stronger and slightly bigger. All the evidence pointed towards the machine doing exactly what it’d promised and yet his mind could hardly believe it. Luke grabbed the helmet on his head before tossing onto the desk and jumping up to inspect himself.

On impulse his hands started to explore the body hidden beneath his dress shirt. He could feel a solid pair of defined pecs far bigger than his former ones before moving down to feel the hard ridges of abs. This quickly tempted him to untuck his shirt and pull it out to reveal them and he wasn’t disappointed. Soon rubbing and smiling the firmness of his new abs along with a dusting of stomach hair he hadn’t had before.

Bringing those hands up to his face, Luke explored his facial features. His jawline felt more prominent, lips slightly fuller, a fine stubble in place of the short beard he used to have and he couldn’t help but notice his hair. The hairline receded a bit but most notably the gel used to slick back his hair and style it. He’d never been one to use any kind of hair gel before so it definitely felt odd but he could get used to it.

After that Luke had to see it. He snatched up the older teacher’s phone from the desk and switched on the front camera. The face staring back at him was none other than the very same man he’d been lusting over all year. Mr Tenner. An almost sadistic grin emerged on his face that would’ve looked very out of character for Mr Tenner as he started to further admire his handsome, mature new features. Loving how his face looked aged but not wrinkled due to the lengths James went to take care of his skin while also enjoying the silver mixed in with his styled hair. Just gazing upon his new visage was causing the bulge in his suit pants to grow larger and tighter… but he wanted to save the best for last.

Next he went onto grab at his biceps, adoring how they bulged inside the fitted suit jacket, showing them off perfectly. It was incredible how a body almost twice Luke’s age could be this fit… this strong… this magnificent. The professor had clearly put huge amounts of work into his body and now Luke was more than happy to reap the benefits. He gave his arms a flex, loving how the jacket and dress shirt underneath had to stretch over the muscle. By now his cock was begging for attention but he had one more thing he wanted to check out first. After giving his pecs another quick squeeze through his shirt, Luke’s hands wandered down to his powerful new muscle ass, gripping it tightly with both hands. Fuck he’d wanted to grab and squeeze this ass all year long but he never imagined it’d be on his own backside when he finally got the chance.

Just then his old body started to groan. Luke took quick notice of this, fascinated to see if the extra setting he’d input to alter the former Mr Tenner had taken effect.

James Tenner blinked his eyes open, astonished to see none other than his identical twin standing before him! Wearing his clothes!? He cursed out loud, demanding to know what was going on but as he did he noticed the difference in his voice and body. He was much slimmer than before and wearing clothes similar to what his Teaching Aid Luke had been wearing before. Come to think of it, his voice just now sounded somewhat like Luke’s as well… what the fuck was going on!?

Looking back up at his imposter, James couldn’t help but notice the sinister smile plastered across his face. He was about to say something when the other man spoke up first. “Get over here and kneel in front of me.” The suited man spoke with such confidence and conviction. His words rattled through James’ head. Every fibre of his being was telling him to obey this man. This doppelgänger. What was wrong with him? He tried so hard to resist but… “Now.” The man demanded in an even deeper and authoritative tone. After that James’ body moved on its own, scrambling over and dropping to his knees as he was told.

The once Mr Tenner was getting even more freaked by the second as the more he looked up at his former… handsome… mature… sexy body, the more turned on he began to feel. Like he just wanted to endlessly service it. But he’d never been into men before? He was straight! So why couldn’t he pull his eyes away from the other man’s bulging crotch?!

Then without warning James felt a hand grab the back of his head, pressing it against the bulge, or rather what should've been his bulge, before telling him to worship it. One part of his mind was screaming at him to get up and run but it was vastly overpowered by the suffocating desire to obey and worship his own former body. And so James soon found himself kissing, licking and sniffing at the outline of his imposter's cock.

Luke almost couldn’t believe it. Not only had the machine been able to put him in the hunky body of Mr Tenner but it’d made the original James’ mind completely subservient to his will. Now the former professor, now in Luke’s old body, was doing everything he could to please his new master. After watching James press his face against the significant bulge in his suit pants however, Luke finally decided it was about time to whip out his brand new cock. By the look on James’ face, he was just as excited as Luke was about it.

“Fuckin woah… now that’s an upgrade for sur-oooohhaah” Luke barley had a chance to finish his sentence after unleashing his new monster cock before James had his lips wrapped around it. So eager to suck away at the dick he used to own. Luke just went with the flow, pressing James’ head down while loving how incredible and sensitive this new dick felt.

As his cock was being worshiped, Luke felt the overwhelming desire to strip out of this suit and give his new body some proper appreciation. Buuuuut it was probably best to wait until later. After all, if he was caught naked on college grounds he’d more than likely be fired from his new job before even having a chance to start. Just this blowjob was enough of a risk as it was. With that in mind he pulled James off his dick momentarily to jerk himself off furiously. James could only watch in awe as his former body jacked his dick like his life depended on it. Luke was biting his lip with lust as he drank in just how fat his new cock was while pumping it. He couldn’t have asked for anything better.

It wasn’t long before Luke finally started to feel his new seed welling up. With that he plunged his cock right back into James’ open mouth with a grunt. Feeling that hungry mouth suction down on his dick yet again was heavenly with how close he was. And with just a few eager bobs of James’ head, Luke grunted as he exploded his professor nut down the younger man’s throat in a thick salty blast.

The body snatcher watched with glee as his former self licked the cum from his lips. He shoved his softening cock back into his suit pants before pulling his new boy toy up onto his feet. “From now on, your are Luke. You’re just a teaching aid here and you will only refer to me as either Mr Tenner or Sir. You got that?” The new Mr Tenner stated.

“Yes sir!” The new Luke replied swiftly and subserviently. “Will I be able to worship you again soon?” He asked even though his inner self was still screaming against it.

“My place tonight at 8:00. You’ll be doing a whole lot more than worshipping…” The new professor stated before giving his former self a kiss on the cheek. As he did, the device caught his eye. With a smirk he grabbed it, ripping out the wires connecting it to the helmets before dropping it on the floor and smashing it beneath one of his new dress shoes. “Just so you don’t get any ideas.“ He smirked. “I’m James Tenner now and there’s nothing you can do to change that.” He sneered towards the new Luke.

———

Just over an hour later James now found himself sauntering around the new incredible looking home he’d inherited. He didn’t waste much time stripping off his suit piece by piece, slowly revealing the adonis body beneath. It wasn’t long before he found himself standing before a mirror, admiring the full beauty of his new form. A light dusting of hair spread across two incredible pecs and a set of well defined abs. Arms that stretched most dress shirts he wore, threatening to rip through them. And of course the incredibly well sculpted ass he just couldn’t get enough of.

Now that he was alone, he was free to go full perve mode with his new body and life. Walking around the house fully nude with a constant boner. Going through all dirty clothes in the hamper and smelling the gym clothes this body had recently worn and loving how that scent was now his own. Sifting through his entire new closet and trying on style after style of clothes. He mainly went through the collection of suits Mr Tenner had amassed over the years but didn’t hesitate to try anything he thought would look great on him. Which, judging by how well it all fit him, was effectively everything. He enjoyed it far more than he should’ve. So much so that quite a few pairs of his new suit pants now had his ball batter splattered all over the inside, staining them with his seed. It almost felt like he was marking his territory as weird and primitive as that sounded.

The time just flew by in all his excitement and before long he heard his doorbell ring. The new and improved James Tenner answered the door wearing some casual but still incredible looking clothes to see none other than “Luke”, his new obedient slave. He invited the younger man in without hesitation and led him towards the living room.

“Alright boy, you should remember what this body likes to eat. If you make me some good food tonight I might consider taking off this shirt and letting you worship my pecs for a while. Then we’ll see how it goes from there.” James began smuggly, grasping at his cock a little before watching Luke scurry off to the kitchen. Happy with his new personal butler, he turned and sat down to watch some TV.

He already knew in the moment that this new life of his was going to be absolutely incredible. Bit by bit he’d been tapping into some new memories so by the time summer break was over he should be able to completely and utterly assume the full identity of Mr Tenner without anyone batting an eye! The only thing they’re going to notice is how much closer he is now to his teaching assistant from the previous year.

He still had no idea who sent him that machine in the first place but whoever it was, James was incredibly grateful for it.

[artstennisracket]

girl i know you're busy but holly molly a fic about patrick in a gay bar?? (inspired by caroline polacheck's so hot you're hurting my feelings 👨‍❤️‍👨🤭)

i saw this ask and i was like oh my gosh this is soooooo good!!! i always listen to the song on repeat for song asks, please keep the song inspo asks coming!!!

cw: nsfw (18+), drunk mutual masturbation, sexting

Patrick had been on tour for about a year at this point. It’s been almost 125 days since he’s last visited Art (not that he’s counting or anything). As much as he had somewhat adjusted to his new life, there was still things he missed about MRTA. Even though hates to admit it, he misses the structure. Having set class times, training times, he needed to have structure otherwise he doesn’t get much done. He also misses a certain blondie….

They actually had a conversation a few weeks ago. Patrick had been really feeling the distance between him and Art since they were both busy, Art with adjusting to college athlete life, and Patrick with tour. So they decided to schedule a time to facetime and give each other life updates. Towards the end of that conversation Patrick made a suggestion.

“I know we’re both busy, I just don’t like being-“

“-left out. I know Art. Well if we just sent each other updates throughout the day? It’s probably better for both of our schedules and we’ll still feel like we’re communicating.” Patrick suggests.

Art smiles, “I actually like that idea. That way we can just respond when we can.”

“Exactly.” Patrick smiles back.

A few weeks go by and so far their plan has worked flawlessly. They’ll text each other updates, sometimes accompanied by pictures, and it’s the closest they can get to living together again.

One night Patrick decides he’s going to go out at the local gay bar, get a drink, and maybe get to someone too. Once he gets there he takes a selfie with his drink to send to Art accompanied by a text, going out tonight let’s see where the night takes me.

A few minutes later Patrick is still sitting at the bar, watching everyone else on the dance floor. He sets his eye on a petite blond who seems to be here with his friends. They’re dancing and giggling together. Patrick is about to get up and make his move until he hears a very familiar song fill the bar. It’s their song. Well it’s not really their song but it started more like a joke.

…

One night after Patrick’s girlfriend slept over in their dorm room, she had used their bathroom to take a shower. She was playing music very loudly and Crazy in Love by Beyoncé came on. Art started mouthing the lyrics which Patrick made fun of him for.

Patrick initiated a tickle fight until Art agreed to sing the song full on. Funnily enough, Patrick already knew Jay-Z’s verse (from how often his sister would listen to that album). From then on it became their song. Whenever they heard it anywhere they’d start singing it horrendously.

…

Patrick sends Art another text, they’re playing our song. Usually around this time of day Art would be texting back immediately but he hasn’t yet. Patrick shrugs to himself and downs the rest of drink.

He starts scrolling through their texts from the last few weeks, focusing on the pictures Art has sent him.

Art is doing really well for himself, which Patrick never doubted. He was really proud of Art. Art was also one of the only people that really knew him, inside and out. Tashi knew Patrick but not on the same level as Art did after 12+ years of friendship. None of that took away from the fact that Art was just really…hot. Ridiculously hot. Too hot for his own good. From his soft curly blond hair, to his smooth (hairless) skin, to his absolutely perfect ass. Patrick could spend all day talking about how hot Art is. But he started to get a little sad. Art was so far away from him being super hot for everyone else’s viewing pleasure but what about Patrick? All he gets is pictures. He used to get to see Art being hot in person, all day everyday. If anything these pictures are making it worse, making him want what he can’t have…

Patrick’s starting to tear up a little, while Crazy in Love by Beyoncé plays in the background. He must look crazy. He’s trying to stop before it becomes a full on sob. So he wipes his tears and asks the bartender for a shot.

A few more drinks in, Patrick is now ready to approach the blond he spotted earlier. He walks over and is about to tap him on the shoulder when Patrick starts getting a bunch of text notifications. He checks his phone and it’s a string of nonsensical texts from Art.

a: wow you lokk so hit

a: did someine byy u a drunk

a: fick

a: wish u were here

That last text was sent with a picture of Art. It’s a selfie where his cheeks are flushed and his pupils seem to be dilated. He’s smiling really big with a red solo cup in his hand. And that explains it. He’s drunk and probably also high.

Patrick goes to text him back.

p: are you drunk AND high right now? i taught you so well.

a: jus a lirtle bit :)

Patrick’s surprised Art can even send a smiley face in the state he’s in right now. Patrick is also drunk but definitely not that drunk.

p: if anyone looks hot it’s you babe

a: realky? u thimk m hot?

p: always thought you were hot, don’t even get me started on your ass

And that was bold even for drunk Patrick. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Does that cross a line?

a: i thunk im hard

Now that’s a surprise, but Patrick can’t say he’s too far behind. He goes into the bathroom, going into one of the stalls to get a little more privacy.

p: me too babe, wanna see?

a: yedh pls

Patrick pulls his pants and boxers down. He strokes himself to full hardness before he takes a picture to send to Art.

a: thsts really big

p: just for you baby

a: csn i suvk it?

That goes straight to Patrick dick. He starts jerking off and Art sends him another picture. Art is in the bathroom at whatever frat he’s at. It’s a mirror selfie this time. Art has his shorts down but his boxers are still on, he has a hand down his boxers, presumably touching himself. And that’s so fucking hot. Jesus fucking christ. He still looks so innocent in that picture even though he’s clearly doing something not so innocent.

He wants to tease the tip of his dick on Art’s toungue until Art is begging him to fuck his mouth. And Patrick would. He would grab those blond curls and shove his dick down Art’s throat. He’s cumming only a few seconds later and he’s not proud of that. But you know what, if he was going to finish fast to anyone it’d be Art.

Patrick came all over the bathroom door. He takes a picture and sends it to Art.

p: next time that’ll be in your mouth

Art responds with a picture of his own. The camera was angled down towards his boxers with a very clear wet spot on it. He came in his boxers.

Art really is so fucking hot. So hot it hurts Patrick’s feelings.

[residentcelery]

January 8th, 2018. I posted the first chapter of A Lesson in Practicality. I was writing as an escape at the time and wanted to get back into stories.

I said I was planning on updating soon but since the chapter isn't yet ready (and I completely forgot about the anniversary), here's a small bit to tease for the next chapter.

Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and has been patient these past few years.

So... how about a small teaser for now? Enjoy!

Virgil stood from his spot on the floor, stumbling slightly as his legs were almost asleep. “Wait, so you just thought all that out? By yourself?”

Roman broke from his ‘heroic’ pose to gasp, turning back to Virgil. “Wha–excuse me! What is that supposed to mean?”

Virgil crossed his arms and scrunched his nose a bit in thought. After a moment of silence, he shrugged. “Nothing, I guess. I mean, Logan is your best friend, right? His smarts probably started to rub off on you.”

Aghast, Roman was speechless, mouth agape. He huffed and stomped his foot in place like a child throwing a tantrum. “Excuse me! I, for one, am smart enough to come up with plans on my own without you having to be so surprised, thank you very much! And another thing, Logan is not–!” Roman paused, red in the face, before letting out a huge sigh. “Ah, who am I kidding? He’s totally my best friend, isn’t he? I can’t even deny that one.”

Virgil smiled victoriously and closed the gap between the two. “Okay, well, how about we start planning where to go from here?”

[onboardsorasora]

hii, i was wondering if you have de-aged/ agere maxiel suggestions? i don’t mind whether it’s max or daniel who de-ages, but your series got me hooked and i’ve been looking all over for fics like it 🥹

thank you in advance if you can <3

hi bestie!!! I'm so chuffed that my fic awakened something in youuu!

Here are a few on ao3, I know there's probably a bunch on tumblr but the tagging system is a mess so if any other besties wanna come through with a link or name that would be super appreciated!

these are in no ranking order! just how they came up when I searched my bookmarks (so that probably means they're in order of most recently posted/updated):

Baby Steps by @awaywegofg Regressed Max/Caregiver Daniel - Love this fic, its 8 chapters in and I love the dynamic of the caregiver/little relationship between Max and Daniel. and its so bloody well written The Turkey Dinosaurs Verse by @33max Regressed Max/Caregiver Daniel - So lovely and well thought out. The series ranges a bunch of different themes and topics and theyre all so soft and soothing

It's You And Me (I Know It's My Destiny) by @sunsetmog Regressed Max/Caregiver Daniel - Help! this verse is so dang cute! (but also so achey (incredibly affectionate)) Its also cross posted, so you can also find it on their dash.

Crayons Verse by @burnishedvictory Regressed Max/Caregiver Daniel - Can't lie, I reread All Yous Are Good fairly often. Its just so... soothing to me. Its only been eclipsed by how often I pop in to read Day or Night

Ingenuous by @shirferraristrategy Regressed Daniel/Caregiver Max - Won't lie, it's been a while since I read this one. It's currently sitting in that deadzone of the middle of my bookmarks. Will be rereading this weekend because we love a hyper regressed Danyul!

Don't Have to be Alone by @puzzlebean Regressed Max/ Multiple Caregivers. its so soft and sweet and I love it so much!

Ok so! Idk if you also mean sexual age play fics, if you don't then all good and this is for besties who would be interested. Here are some sexual age play recs:

Maxy's Farm Verse by @cuddlebugsirius I love this verse. Its very soft, soooo soft! and so hot! :3

Daddy's Love in All Its Forms by @unremarkableyaks What can I say, it is exactly as it says on the tin! 2731 words of goodness :3

All I Needed For Another Day by Anonymous We love a delicious kinkmeme filllllll

Happy reading Bestie!

Other Besties, please tag and drop links in the comments for any I've missed!!

[lifeseries-ttrpg]

3rd Life TTRPG project Interest check!

Heya folks!

Admin Excel here to announce the official opening of Life series TTRPG project's Tumblr page! This will be your place to get all the updates regarding applications, timeline of the project, as well as ask any questions you may have regarding the project.

Today I also opened the interest check, so if you could take a while to fill it out, that's be wonderful!

Link to the interest check

Some more information that you might be interested in:

The project will most likely focus on reinterpreting 3rd Life as a TTRPG. If it goes well, I have plans for turning next seasons into their own manuals - however I think it's best if we take it one season at a time, to not overwhelm ourselves.

There is no solid date for anything just yet. I'm a college student and my schedule is pretty tight lately. The only thing I can say for sure is that if everything goes well, contributor applications will most likely open mid-late February. If you follow this page, this will be the first place where you'll get all the updates!

Until then, the interest check will be open so that you can submit your ideas. You can also drop them in the question box here and I'll try to answer as many of them as I can! There will also be a post in the future where I'll answer some of the suggestions/ideas/question that were submitted via the interest check.

So far, the project is in a brainstorming phase. I have quite a few ideas for characters, scenarios, mechanic and the overall shape of the manual - but this is why I'm turning this into a collaborative project, so that more people can show off their amazing writing and/or drawing skills and contribute. The more the merrier!

That's it for now! I'll probably make a pinned post about any important information as soon as they come up! Don't hesitate to ask any questions about the project!

[xiibiibby]

I rushed to make the update post last night because I was tired. But I'll make a better one now to include all the minor and not-so-minor changes I made, as well as explain why it took me a millennium to get this chapter out. Note: Some of these changes are game-breaking, and require you to start a new game. There's a reason I urged people to read the devlog!

Dead by Daylight: Unraveled Changelog:

Added Chapter 4.

Added more flavor text to previous chapters.

Added additional dialogues and interactions with Bastion in previous chapters.

Replaced BG art and theme of the Status Page.

Experimenting with Emoticons on certain choices.

PLEASE do not load a previously saved game!! Because of the changes I've made behind the scenes, those saves will NOT function correctly moving forward. You MUST create a new character.

Chapter 4 contains some fan service with—you guessed it—Bastion. Remember that you can enable or disable this mature content via a setting on the Customize Page!

I am aware of a formatting issue on certain mobile resolutions; I'm fixing this pronto!

Finally, here's an explanation regarding the huge hiatus. Warning: I get personal here.

I've been in and out of a deep depression for the past something or so years, as well as having gone through a number of wild, traumatic events during that period! Now, I won't get too in depth regarding those events, but they certainly made matters worse.

When I had energy to work on something, it didn't last for long. But if there's one thing that makes me happy, it's writing! :D So, I decided to put my personal problems aside and finally deliver the chapter update I promised a long time ago! Wrapping it up certainly gave me a lil' serotonin boost! (❁´◡`❁) And I hope to keep this up so I can get another chapter out soon.

Anyway, thank you for reading! <3

I know I should probably make an entirely new blog to devote to this specific project, but I honestly don't even have the energy to manage this one… I hope you don't mind the disorganized mess! 〒▽〒

If you have any issues with the new chapter, let me know!

Play the game here.